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#not like. couldn't hold a plank. i have never been great at holding a plank and am worse now than i was 6 months ago.
as per the youtube program i'm attempting with my fave fitfluencer du jour, saturday was shoulders, sunday was abs (my nemesis because my abs are the weakest abs in the history of abs), and then yesterday was full body which meant it was the first time i was doing any kind of lower body exercise and i thought it was nice that it started with a full body day since only half the time was spent on lower body stuff so maybe it would ease me in but ohhhh my god standing up and sitting down today has been torture... today was supposed to be glutes but my butt was like Absolutely Not so i did one of the fitfluencer's shorter upper body workouts to give my butt a break. really looking forward to a week or two from now when i will still be getting sore but not in a way that is like. debilitating. i may take tomorrow off or do like just some chill cardio depending on how i feel when i wake up because today i feel Groggy although it is hard to identify a cause there given that my sleep cycle has been totally fucked for several months/my whole life basically. on the bright side the past two nights i've gone to bed at a reasonable time and slept almost a solid 9 hours which is like an unheard of combination for me and does feel delicious.
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amoristt · 10 months
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anon: can you write a ghost x reader fic about y/n being wrongfully accused of being a spy and she makes a run for it and ghost finds her? YESSSS . LOVE ITTTT
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-as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - wanna tip me? heres my kofi!
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The Accused | Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader
- Heavy footsteps, the air thick, the wall in front of you even thicker. Never did you think that beige wallpaper would be such an obstacle in your way as the echoing sound of footsteps gain on you. The door is shut tight, but the room is still under construction and lacks any furniture to help barricade you in. There isn't even a fucking closet for you to hide in. The only thing other than light brown plank flooring and a door with a half-painted white frame, was a window overlooking a yard.
It was roughly a five-story drop- too high to continue your run unscathed, but at this point, you've got some pretty heavy options to weigh. On one hand, potentially cut your life short, on the other, get caught and dragged out fighting.
Not that it would be much of a fight. You didn't even have time to grab your gun or knife before you made your escape.
Your heart aches. This wasn't right. While you weren't sure what dirt Shepherd had on you, what documents had been falsified as evidence of your alleged 'treason', but whatever they were they must have been pretty damn convincing to have Graves up in arms almost instantaneously. Tears bite at your eyes- had been since you first ran, but now they were heavier. Angrier. You wipe them harshly and red blotches bubble at your cheeks.
Shaking, you bring your radio to your lips. You can't hear them, but they can surely hear you, switched to a different station so you couldn't use their chatter to work around them.
"Please," you damn near sob. "Please, there's a mistake. There's been a fucking mistake, I haven't done anything. You really think I'd do this to you guys of all people?"
Grave answers your pleads like a poison, settling deep into your lungs, replacing all the air in its wake.
"Enough running. Come out and no one has to get hurt."
There was no use in arguing, you realized. They would never hear of it- not the people that truly mattered when it came to imprisonment, anyways. Even if you could convince your humble squad of your innocence, it would never hold up in the end. Besides that, by the way Graves spoke to you, the way he had looked at you, like you were a fucking bug that needed squashing, told you all you needed to know when it came to fighting against Shepherd's allegations.
You knew, ultimately, that running wasn't going to exactly help your case, but you didn't know what else to do. It felt like everyone had turned against you in a moment. You hadn't even had time to process anything. One moment you were joking with your crew, and Graves scampered off the take a rather important call.
Shepherd, was all he had said before disappearing.
And god, when he came back, red-faced and tense, the accusations poured.
Soap tried to defend you. Ghost fought to question, to figure out what the fuck was happening, but the supposed 'evidence' was apparently damning enough to convince Graves through and through that you were a spy.
A rat.
Ghost's voice, laced with desperation and confusion, when Graves began to 'explain' your betrayal haunted you. More so than the act of being accused of treason, even. You just stared at him, past that skull mask, into those familiar dark eyes. Even now, as you ran for what could possibly be your life, that half-hidden expression was all you could see.
The moment Graves brought up arresting you, and even moved to try and grab you, your brain damn near malfunctioned. Your body reacted on its own.
You fucking ran.
Though you weren't sure how someone had found you, this was the position you were in now. The curtains blew out with the breeze, soft and inviting, almost like it was beckoning your jump. They unfurl before you like great wings, and you stare down at the green grass below. You'd surely be crippled by this fall. If not that, it could very well kill you.
Your heart seizes, your lungs struggle to take in air as panic begins to sets in like vines creeping over your nerves. For a moment, you freeze. There was no other way out.
But then there's a slam on the door behind you, so great that the frame creaks and sharp chunks of wood launch off and scatter onto the floor around you. You flinch and your body once again takes priority over your mind, tossing your leg over the sill and swallowing hard. You're going to have to make the jump for it.
You heave yourself up and over, planting your feet flat on the sill, your entire body shaking with both fear of the leap and the deeper issue at present. One hand braces against the top of the window, the other covering your mouth.
Behind you, the door bursts open. Wood splints and tears as it slams into the wall.
"Enough!" A voice shouts, thick with accent and heavy breaths. "You're going to break every damn bone in your body."
You can practically feel Ghost's gun pointed straight at you. You cringe.
Would he pull the trigger?
"Might as well do it now before someone else does trying to beat a confession out of me that'll never fucking come." You didn't mean for your voice to carry so sharp, so laced with the pain and hurt of being hunted by your own friends.
By Ghost, of all people.
How could he be so fucking blind after everything you'd been through together? You wanted to reach out and smack him upside the head. You'd patched each other up more times than you could count, you trusted him with your life, he'd trusted you with his.
Or so, you had always thought.
But the way he's looking at you has to second guessing.
But, ultimately, you knew the game at play. He was a good soldier- the best. He was a former lone wolf, distrustful to his core. You'd worked so fucking hard to get close with him and now it was all crumbling down. Even if you stayed and explained yourself, there would be no point. You would be arrested, processed, thrown in jail labeled a traitor to your country and more people than not would be celebrating it. You'd never see the light of day- shackled and stuffed into a prison so far off the map that God himself would struggle to find you.
And you would be damned if you were going to just sit there and accept your fate. Even if it meant you appeared just as guilty as Shepherd had painted you. You just needed to get away for a bit, collect yourself, and have the time to figure out what the hell was going on. But it seemed that was never in the cards for you. 
The ground below looks menacing, but more forgiving than the fate that awaits you.
You can hear Ghost taking heavy steps forward, and you wonder why he hasn't just come up and ripped you from that sill already.
"Get down," He barks, and you shake at the tone, refusing to look back at him. Defiance shines through as you refuse to climb down.
"I'm not going down for something I didn't do!" Exasperated, your knuckles whitening with your iron grip. It takes what feels like eons to prepare for gravity to play its course, but in reality, it's been mere seconds. You try to force down air through the boulder in your throat.
For a moment, everything stills. You knew the outcome that was bound to come to this. You knew, deep down in your heart, that your fate was not a good one at this point. Either you die on impact, or you'd be wheeled into the interrogation room on a stretcher. That alone makes your skin crawl- interrogation. Knowing you had not a single detail to offer despite the amount of 'tactics' that would be used on you... The torture would essentially be never-ending.
You were well and truly fucked.
"I have to do this." You try to keep your voice level, but it betrays you. You hear Ghost suck in a sharp breath, the sound of his gear shifting. At this point, you don't even care if he shot you. At least you'd die with the person you loved.
"You don't." Ghost's voice is quieter, closer. Now you can really hear it- the sadness. The desolation. It wracks you to your very core.
With a hasty glance over your shoulder, you take in the sight of him. Maybe the last sight of him you'll ever get the chance to see. His looming figure stands feet away, gun still fixated on you. He looks defeated. Or, perhaps, torn. Riding that fence and teetering on the edge between believing you or hauling your ass back to Shepherd kicking and screaming.
Tears well in your eyes when realize his finger isn't even on the trigger. You nod at him sadly.
"I do."
And then, you give yourself to gravity. For a split second, you're weightless. Without much family back home, you found yourself thinking about your squad. How would Soap react? Gaz, or Price? Would they try to find your innocence, or would they take your cowardly actions at face value? Would Graves struggle with the weight of your life if he discovered his manhunt had been unwarranted?
Would Ghost be okay after firsthand witnessing such an awful, selfish act?
Would he ever forgive you?
With a sickening crack, your body slams into the brick wall of the building and you're left dangling in place. Your shoulder screams as you hang, and when you snap your attention toward the searing pain, you see two large hands grasped tight at your wrist and elbow.
"Damn it!"
Ghost's voice reaches you like a bullet had been ripped through your chest. He'd caught you, holding fast and unrelenting. You tried to fight, struggling against him, trying to reach up and pry those fingers away but they didn't budge.
It was over. You'd been caught. You were going to fucking prison and forever labeled a traitor to your country and everyone you ever knew. Everyone you ever fought with, and for, would remember you as a rat. A stain on the fabric of the U.S. Army.
"Let go!" You cry, feeling yourself reeling back into that room with Ghost's unwavering grip. "Just let go!"
Ghost grunts a sharp no before you're hauled up, into the room, and held fast by his arms caging you against him. He crushes you to himself, fingers near digging bruises into your skin and he's shaking you realize. Tears well up and flush past your waterlines, disappearing into the cloth of his gear. You haphazardly beat on his chest with a loosely formed fist.
"They're gonna fucking kill me" You sob. "It's not me, I didn't do anything."
You feel Ghost's arms leave you, and you realize now is when you'll have to surrender. You'll have to hang your head low and saunter away and into the clutches of the armies worst. You're crying into your hands now, not caring what you look like. Not caring this was the first time Ghost had ever truly seen you cry. And god, did you cry.
"Simon, please, I didn't do anything. It wasn't me!"
He's silent as he watches you fall apart right in front of him. Though he uncurls his arms from your shaking frame, he doesn't back away, looking down at you, like he's unsure of what to do. Unsure of what to believe anymore. As you press your forehead to his shoulder, your legs threaten to give out from underneath you.
"Why is this happening." Your voice escapes you as a whimper, broken up with sharp, painful breaths. "What could I have done for someone to do this to me of all people? I know I'm not a saint, but,-" Finally you look up at him, babbling. "Fuck, what do I do?"
Ghost's eyes narrow as he watches you, taking in every word. He places his hands on your shoulders, the first familiar gesture you've felt yet.
"You think you've been framed?" He asks, tone cool despite the waves of emotions in his eyes. You nod.
"That's the only explanation I can think of, but why? I would never do this to my country, my home." You flicker your eyes up to his own. "I would never do this to you."
You can see him trying to work it all out in his brain. Weighing the evidence he'd been presented with versus the fact that he fucking knew you. Knew you like the back of his hand, knew you without even having to think about it. He knew you as he knew himself, and he just knew you wouldn't do this.
"So what is it then." He starts harshly, so terribly confused it brings about anger, like he needs the answer right now because he doesn't know what to do next and time is running thin. 
Shaking your head, you shrug. "I don't know. I just-... I know that there's something going on here. Maybe by mistake, maybe intentionally, I don't know. But I didn't fucking do anything."
Ghost digests your words. You continue.
"I just need time to figure it out and I don't have it. I've got 141 and god fucking forbid, the Shadow's coming for this at this point." your face falls. "...Did anyone try to defend me after I left...?"
Ghost stiffens and swallows hard. You nod, laugh hoarsely. Of course.
"It was fast. There wasn't time to think." He offers. It made sense. You wondered what would have happened if anyone found you up here. If it had been Soap, or Gaz. Or Graves.
His eyes are softer now, his breathing leveling. Surely he's made a choice, but you aren't sure of which. You pray it's in your favor, that he realizes that this is you you're talking about. You pray he remembers all the time, the trust. As you watch him, like he's miles away from you, you can't help but notice him staring at you like you're just mere arms reach away.
Like you'd never left his arms at all, actually. Still flush against him a crying mess of pleads and hurt.
"Ghost, how copy?" Grave's voice pipes up from Ghost's radio.
You still. Ghost lingers a moment, like he doesn't want to answer, his eyes dart from his radio and then back to you, and you press your lips into a tight line.
Don't fucking answer it, your mind begs. Don't do this to me.
When Graves repeats himself, urgently this time, Ghost drags the radio begrudgingly up his clothed lips. Mouth running dry, hands shaking, you take a step back.
'Please,' You mouth. Ghost shakes his head and refuses to meet your gaze.
He was going to turn you in, after all.
He was a good soldier.
You, in that moment, recall the moments you spend side by side with this man. This scary, intimidating man, that you'd found comfort in. The person you plucked from the litter and thought to yourself, this one.
And he hadn't wanted you in. You bulldozed your way through until he found himself picking you out in crowds, remembering all those little things about you that no one else seemed to give a damn about. Waiting for you in the morning, sharing his thoughts and time.
You had always hoped, in another world, you two could enjoy life without all the pain together. A life outside of the army. 
Surely, it would have been enough.
Face downcast, you hear him take a breath to speak.
"Clear." He says. "No sign."
There was no stopping the tears that spilled down your cheeks at that moment, mouth covered to muffle yourself, crouching down as your knees shook.
"Sonofa bitch! Regroup back at point A." Graves says with a sigh.
"Copy." Ghost says quickly, shoving his radio back into his belt. He takes a knee in front of you, and his hands cup the side of your wet face. You eye him, babbling thank you over and over again, sick with fear, gratitude, and confusion. A cocktail that left an unnaturally horrendous taste on your lips. He retrieves a hand just long enough to set his knife down o the floor in front of you.
"Now you've got time." He says matter-of-factly, but you can still sense that urgency in his words. He wants you to escape. To figure this out and come back to him his friend and partner.
He takes your discarded radio and switches it to the proper channel so you could keep tabs on their whereabouts and plans. The voices of your squad chatter on the line, Soap's voice above all wondering how the fuck this was even happening. Bless his heart, he even mentioned being worried for you, which was quickly shot down by Graves reminding him of your betrayal.
As Ghost crouches before you, massive, all-powerful it seemed, you watch his eyes. He pats your cheek. His gloved finger points to the window.
"Ever try a stunt like that again, I'll kill you myself." He bites. You nod, struggling to compose yourself. He stands and your mind begs for him to stay, to be with you during this, but you know he can't.
He lingers in the doorway like he's thinking the same thing. 
"I will... Do what I can. Watch your back, soldier."
And then he's gone, and It's silent save for your harsh breaths. You shakily pull yourself up from the floor, grasping the knife he'd given you- his favorite blade entrusted to you. You'd wait for nightfall and make a run for it, find shelter day by day, and hopefully reconnect with him somewhere to go over what the hell was going on.
You prayed he'd find a way to convince them of your innocence, ask the right questions to the right people, and have more players in your court.
It would likely be your only way out of this awful nightmare.
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nomoreusername · 11 months
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Good Liar
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Pairing:Gally x female reader
Summary:When someone thinks you're Gally's girlfriend, you cover up the truth with jokes.
I groaned as I carried the planks of wood across the Glade. I'd been lugging them along all day. I'm pretty sure my back's permanently bruised from the amount of times I'd slammed them over my shoulder.
"Not like that you shank!"Gally yelled at one of his Builders. I rolled my eyes at his usual attitude. It's pretty entertaining to see them all flustered. If you really knew him he wasn't even close to being intimidating.
"Do you need a hand?"Gally offered as I added another plank to the pile.
"I don't know Gally. You look pretty busy yelling at that poor guy over there,"I replied, with mock sincerity.
"You're hilarious. Do you want some help or not?"He asked again.
"I have a few more over there. It'd be great if you'd just help with the rest."
"Maybe I should be Gally's girlfriend. Then, he'd do more than yell at me,"The guy from earlier mumbled.
"Excuse me?"Gally asked, turning around.
"I just meant you're so nice to your girlfriend. I didn't mean anything by it,"He shrugged.
"That's the greatest I've heard all day,"I said, holding back a laugh.
"Did I say something wrong?"He asked, confused. "Not at all. I've been looking for a new joke,"I responded, pretending to wipe a tear from my eye. "So you're not a couple?"He asked.
By now I couldn't hold back my laughter. Gally was not amused which only made it better. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but it's probably the best part of my day.
"Not a couple,"Gally grumbled. He had actually gone red in the face. It made me unreasonably happy to see Gally close to being speechless.
"It's really not that funny,"He mumbled.
"It absolutely is that funny,"I disagreed.
"You're such a shuckface."
"I should probably go back to work,"The guy muttered.
"Oh definitely. Gally probably wants to rip your head off,"I warned.
"Are you done?"Gally huffed.
"If I have to be. Just help me with these planks."
"No. You're being a shank,"He scoffed, before leaving.
"Good call. I'll see you at dinner loverboy,"I yelled.
That was so ridiculous. Us? A couple? What a bad match. I'm only thinking about it because it's funny. I'm definitely not covering up my hidden feelings.
I'm also a great liar so I guess we'll never know.
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skatetome · 2 years
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Destined and Dreamed Of
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Pairing: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1462 words
Warnings: None
Author's Note: no season 4 spoilers, in fact, i would say robin's personality in this was more how she was in s3. reader is referred to as a woman obv
Blue lights flicker as bodies dance on each other. Music, that's pretty much entirely consumed by the booms of the bass, blares in everyone's ears. The room reeks of vodka and perfume. What most would consider a sensory overload was an absolute luxury for Hawkins kids. If Karen and Ted hadn't been out of town, Nancy, and her self-proclaimed co-host, Mike, would've never hosted this party. Robin Buckley seemed to be the only one who wanted the couple back in town.
The girl's bitter glare directed itself towards you talking with Steve Harrington. The boy pulls the cup up to his lips, the same ones Robin hoped had never touched yours, and took a sip. She watched as Steve used his words to try to serenade you.
When she thought things couldn't get any worse, you smile at Steve and place a hand on his elbow for a moment. Robin couldn't take it anymore; the sight of her best friend and the girl she was in love with flirting with each other made her nauseous. She ran up to the top floor of the house, shoving bodies out of her way in the process. She walked into an empty bedroom without locking the door behind her. It just didn't come to mind.
Robin slid under the bed, struggling in the process. She silently begged for no bugs or rats to accompany her. She focused on the vibration of the bass from downstairs to try to calm herself down. She stared up at the wooden planks holding up the bed as she thought about every possible reason why you touched Steve's elbow. Her mind raced through scenario after scenario, none of them being the reality.
———
"So, Y/N, when are you gonna talk to Robin?" Steve asks, a curious smirk forming on his face.
"Tonight," You smiled, humoring Steve's temporary excitement. "If I can get the courage, that is."
Steve's face dropped the moment you finished that statement. He was, rightfully, tired of you making excuses to not keep your word about confessing. This was probably the fifth time you've told the boy your plans to pursue your dream (and hopefully destined) lesbian romance with Robin Buckley. It was tiring for him to hear both you and Robin gush about each other when you've never even talked. And, quite frankly, he almost felt guilty for being the one thing stopping you two lovebirds from getting together.
Who wouldn't? Hearing the words 'she definitely doesn't like me back though' over and over again from two oblivious requited lovers, who happened to be his best friends, was heartbreaking. It was like Steve knew you both needed a boost of non-liquid courage, which is what drove him to give you that boost verbally.
"I have a proposal, you gotta hear me out, though." Steve convinced.
"Go ahead?"
"How about you confess to Robin tonight?" The wingman watched as your mouth opened, but quickly finished his statement before you could speak. "Now, I know exactly what you're going to say. 'Steve, I can't, I'm too scared!'. My suggestion is that you go up to that bedroom up there, away from everyone else, and practice what you'll say to her."
Rehearsing how you'd confess to a girl was something you never thought you'd be doing. But, you appreciated the fact that Steve wasn't requiring you to confess to Robin, but he rather gave you a choice. It wasn't something he'd ever done before, so you told yourself you'd give it a try. Hell, all you had to do was practice. And the idea of getting out of such an overwhelming setting like the room you were in didn't sound too bad.
"Great idea, Harrington." You smiled, giving the boy a pat on his free elbow, the one that wasn't being used to slip from a plastic cup. "I'll see you back here soon."
With that, you ascended up the stairs of the Wheeler house. The amount of 'excuse me's you gave out on the way was probably the most you spoke that entire night. Once you reached the top of the stairs, you approached the first door you saw. You assumed that was the one Steve was referring to, but either way, it was a party — meaning the house was pretty much destined to be explored.
———
You pulled the door of the room towards out and locked it right after you entered. You walked right to the bed, where you sat down and stared at the wall in front of you while your mind generated some ideas of how you'll confess to Robin. An amount that seemed like thousands of words were placed into possible combinations for you to confess to your crush with.
Meanwhile, Robin was panicking under the mattress, where she laid half-awake. It's not like she could look to see who it was, since that'd be horribly creepy on her behalf. She tried listening to the unknown person's breathing pattern or any other sounds their body made, but she just couldn't tell. Not even the back of the glossy white flats she could see from her spot brought anyone to her mind. Suddenly, she was awaken by the sound of an inhale that wasn't her own.
"Okay. Hey, um, can I talk to you for a sec?" You asked, imagining that the wall in front of you was your beloved, Robin Buckley.
"Fuck, she doesn't know I'm under here, right?" Robin thought to herself, her heart racing out of her chest.
"Yeah, um, okay. I brought you up here to tell you something, um..."
"She can't be talking about me, then. Thank God."
"Robin, I, um, have a crush on you, and I have for months..."
"No way. Okay, I have to get out from under here."
Robin quietly wiggled herself from under your opposite side of the bed. She slowly moved herself into a squat to see who it was on the side across from her.
Her eyes widened as she started taking in the woman's features. Then, it quickly registered inside her mind who she was seeing. It was Y/N, the girl she considered the love of her life — even though they hadn't ever talked.
Without thinking, she ran to sit next to you on the bed. Shocked, you look over at her and have a similar recognition process to hers. The girl you were imagining the wall as was right next to you. You looked her up and down to make sure she wasn't a hallucination, or, somehow, Steve.
"Um, how did you get here?" You ask, a nervous laugh coming out with your statement.
"As creepy as it sounds — or, is, I guess — I was under the bed. I wanted an escape from the party, and I thought this bedroom was the easiest place to go." The wide-eyed girl stuttered, matching your post-statement nervous laughter.
"You heard what I said, right? Because I don't think I can get the courage to repeat myself."
"Yeah, um, I did." Robin pauses and looks at the ground. "Y/N, I... like you too."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I just couldn't figure out how, when, and where to tell you."
Robin was adorable when she was nervous. The ever so slight rasp in her voice combined with the shakiness made you want to just kiss her right then and there. But, it's way too early for that.
"Funny that you say that, actually, since Steve was actually the person who answered all of those for me. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be up here practicing — or actually — confessing to you."
"Can I be fully honest with you?" Robin asks, continuing after your immediate 'mhm'. "Watching you talk to Steve made me so... jealous. I wanted you to talk to me like that. I wanted you to smile at me like that. I wanted you to see me how you see Steve."
Wow. Knowing that Robin was so in love with you that she got jealous of you talking to Steve made you feel powerful. That said, it also made you feel sad for putting Robin through that jealously without intending to do so. An idea to make her feel somewhat better popped into your newly-confident mind.
"As cheesy as it sounds, I can kiss you in a way I'd never kiss Steve, if you'd like that?" You smile.
"I'd love that."
You grab her chin and push your lips onto hers. The kiss you two shared was everything you'd ever dreamed of. The way your lips molded together perfectly, and the way your passion intertwined through this kiss made you confident of the fact that this romance was, in fact, one you dreamed of and what was destined for the two of you.
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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 7 months
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NCT Spooky Season [Day 14]
The Lonely Lovely Mansion
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TW: Ghosts? Genre: Romance, Comedy Pairing: Qian Kun x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 1.0K Prompt: A casual walk through a haunted mansion
[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Yesterday] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]
Notes: Kun is my ult OKAYYYY Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.
Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!
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"Hey, honey," you leaned into your husband, keeping your voice below a whisper, "I know we really want a house but... there has to be other options."
"No, I agree," Kun nods. You both look at the house in front of you and the realtor slapped on a big smile on her face.
"So, what are we thinking?" She throws her hands up to gesture to the house. "It's very Victorian, so elegant!"
"Yeah," you forced out the enthusiasm and you and Kun both gave weak smiles. "We have to get out of here," you whispered to him.
"I know," he holds you a little closer, "let's just play along for now and then we'll leave," he whispers.
"So!" The realtor opens the door with some difficulty and with a key you were sure was centuries older than you. "This is the foyer," she gestures for both of you to look up and you swallowed harshly when you saw the array of cobwebs hanging off the chandelier. "Oop, looks like the previous owners forgot to get rid of this old thing," she looks at the broken mirror.
"Ahaha," your laugh couldn't have sounded more fake, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Here's the kitchen," she leads you into the next room and you move your foot to avoid the strange puddle of red on the floor.
"How long has it been since the last owners moved out?" Kun asks while eyeing the layer of dust on the stove.
"About sixty years," she nods.
"Wow, I wonder why?" You let Kun move you to a less precarious place as he runs his hand along the large fissure in the wall.
"And, before we forget, the living room is right over this way," the realtor takes you into a larger room and smiles with her hands on her hips as you shriek.
"That's a big ass spider!" You shout.
"It's fine, it'll be gone by the time you both move in."
"What the hell?!" Kun steps back, pulling you with him as the large spider takes notice of you.
"Let me just-" the realtor grabs a plank of wood and slams it over the spider's head, the thing simply being stunned instead of dying. "Anyway, lets go to the second floor," she ushers you out of the room and slams the door shut behind her. "Go ahead!" She urges you to go up the stairs and, as soon as you and Kun took one step on it, you heard the whole thing creak and you swear you heard something break.
"Um..." You looked worriedly around and Kun continued up, testing the floorboards with each step.
"Seems stable," he says.
"Oh, yes, very," the realtor catches her breath and walks past the both fo you. Hesitantly, you followed.
"Here's the main bedroom," she opened the largest door and, well, this whole room screamed haunted, that's for sure, and when the old painting hung inside suddenly fell that only confirmed everything for you. "Whoops! That darn draft," she laughs and closes the door. "Anway, the room next to it here could be a great guest room," she opens the next door to reveal the peeling paint and uneven floorboards in it. "Or..." her voice has a teasing tone to it, "it could also be a nursery," she grins and you and Kun laughed awkwardly.
"You mentioned this house had three bedrooms? I only see the two doors," Kun says.
"Right, right, we kind of have to work for the third bedroom," she says. She gestures for you both to follow her and she stops at the end of the hall, feeling for a certain wall panel before pressing on it and the wall pops open. She pulls on it and you and Kun gasp. "Whoops! Who left this here?" She laughs at the bible hung up by a string in the middle of the room.
"Nope! No, no, no!" You shout and turn around.
"It's a no, sorry, this is far from what we're wanting for a home," Kun explains while you both rush out.
"I know, it's a bit of a fixer-upper," the realtor insists.
"Fixer-upper?! This place should be demolished!" You narrowly avoid the hole in the floor.
"With some TLC you'll be able to make this home amazing!" The realtor keeps going.
"No thank you, we don't have that kind of money," Kun says unlocking the car quickly and waiting for you to get inside first.
"Should I put you both down as a maybe for this house?"
"No!" Your shout was apparent through the window.
"No, not at all," Kun says with a tight-lipped smile. He slides into the driver's seat and floors it.
"Damn it!" The realtor curses behind them. After a short while, you let out the breath you'd been holding.
"She was fucking crazy," you said with disbelief.
"I know... trying to sell us a house like that," Kun shook his head slowly. "Are you okay? You didn't get hurt, did you?"
"No, luckily," you shuddered. "You?"
"I'm fine," he does a quick look through of his hands and wrists. "Not to mention that giant spider, holy..."
"They couldn't have even cleaned a little before bringing us in there?!"
"Exactly! If they wanted that house out of their hair they could've at least put some effort into making it look nicer," Kun groans.
"I'm pretty sure the last owners were murdered there."
"Yup, I was."
Kun slammed on the brake and you both jerked forward, held back by your seatbelts. Nervously, you both turn to each other, before you look up at the rearview mirror, spotting the man who sat in the middle of the backseat. He waves at you.
"Hi," he grins.
"Oh my god!" Your hands covered your mouth and Kun was frozen.
"Finally! Someone who toured that damn house can see me!" The ghost relaxes against the seat. "I'm Yangyang!"
"Whatever was in that house is making me delusional," you covered your eyes.
"Nope! I'm definitely one of the ghosts of that house! And, now that I finally found people who can see me... I'm gonna need you both to make the investment."
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@witchcraftandburialdirt asked:
Upon the dock they stood, the nightly tresses of his benefactor seemed to frolic amongst the salt soaked wind, flavored by the very sea whose waves seemed to bow before his beauty, though no pleasure crossed his features as he gazed outwards in the direction of home. Home which now felt so foreign and far as the promise of unfulfilled joy consumed his very being, a bitter fate which he had paid for marked into reality by plank falling onto timber. The gulls' aubade to the morning sun resounded in the man's ears as screams, as if to weep upon the agony of passion below them, a sweet poison coursing within the man's veins which was placed upon him throughout the passage of time-- one where the fury of the field was the only place solace existed. Yet in the silence of the slain and the intimacy inside woven walls, the man found only the whispers of Tarhos' voice; deep and rumbling like thunder over wheat, and yet…so tender in his words. As though each was entreating for the grace and mercy the knight had never received within his life span, a hushed cry meant solely for him. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to imagine the night without that voice, without being held so comfortably, without his blue eyes to stare into and lips to kiss. 
The vision reminded him of the Hell priests would warn of. How could he ever be happy again without having him by his side to hold and cherish?
The paralians were swift to cut the ropes, releasing sails which eagerly caught the tempest within their canvas. Before this time…long ago, those great sails would have been the victory banner of Christ, stitched together with angel's raiments as they were hoisted into the beautiful azure of the morning sky. Yet this covenant of hope was embittered, what would have once brought him joy had burned into ash on his tongue. Freedom and home…did they truly mean anything now with this burning fire within the cavern of his chest which only cried for one thing? One simple, lovely thing that would be ripped from his hands the moment his foot stepped onto that ship. That single movement would throw Tarhos into his past with only a marbled face carved from memory to be his bride. How foolish could one be, to toss a life of sunshine and quiet meadows away if only to be beside one man who brought such brutality and anguish? To stand so close to that which he had longed for, only to now feel half-hearted and bereft about such a blessing; it could never amount to the whispered prayers placed against his neck within the nights' hours.
Not when blood soaked hands cradled his hips as though holding communion, a reverent touch remarked by the essence of fluttering desire brought to life by the breathy refrains which left their lips after each shared kiss. How the Knights' breath and voice filled his spirit with the tolling of death bells and the song of church choirs; a cacophony of dread and brilliance wrapped into a singular man which held his heart tightly–as if ready to feast upon it. By now that carnivorous carnal hunger was less a blanket over them both and moreso a red threaded border which swaddled this newfound emotion. That which vexes all men, what it meant— and how that feeling would doom him, but alas…Tarhos was the one thing he would never repent for. He swallowed the pit of misery in his throat, feeling it build into a slowly filling pool of dread ── He couldn't do it - he wouldn't, and so, his plush lips parted to speak:
“I … I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you, like this, forever. Even after life.
── Medieval Verse
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There was something always so solemn about the coast, it's beautiful blue waves lapping against the pale beaches with hundreds of ships some trading bodies like they were cattle put to auction. He was no stranger to cages like that. Huddled together with other men and women passing disease between each other like the very air they were breathing was caustic to their lungs. The same venom held even now when he knew what the plan was, what the maiden had asked of him so long ago. The ache in his chest wasn't the air this time as much as he would pretend it was. No. Haruko had swiftly become his entire world.
Every scream from the gulls sounded like a murder and the unfurling of sales like the wings of a great beast ready to snatch him from his grasp, but he had no right to demand the other to stay. While the knight knew cages and long roads very well, the maiden knew the sea and the shackles below deck. Passed between lords like a prized canary to sing for their amusement his wings had been clipped every time they grew back. He knew the snarling cornered animal in his tent when they first met far better than most. He was just a bed warmer to the captain, a piece of flesh to keep his rabid dog satisfied and yet... he never touched him.
The silence was deafening, but all he could do was watch. For all his faults he would never force someone to stay near him. Haru was his own person just like he was even if most wouldn't see it that way. He watched the wool of the maiden's dress flutter in the wind and the last call for boarding overtook the gulls screams before the maiden's voice pierced the silence and a wave of relief like he had never known washed over him, "...I want you to stay too." A quiet admission, but relief flooded every word. The knight helped the maiden down from the dock and back into his arms.
If there was divinity he had found it in every fiber that made up the warmth of the man in his arms as if he were the rib plucked from Adam to make Eve. He was everything he never wanted to let go of.
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oreoskys · 1 year
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Scales and Sails pt. 1
Next Chap.
Sounds of a rope being pulled taught against a pulley, followed by a splat.
Pain seared through Vil's arms and tail, as he thought about how it was humiliating to be so unceremoniously thrown onto the deck of a ship. Although, the pain was quickly stopping him from making any more coherent thoughts. Digging his nails into the cold wooden deck, he rose his head and glared upwards through sopping strands of hair.
Of course, fate willed that this was the worst possible scenario. Peering down at him, seated atop of a wooden crate was a pirate but not just any pirate;
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The captain of the Drowned King.
Notorious for their senseless slaughtering of merpeople. This was a nightmare. How could he be so foolish...
Going even meters close to the surface was a risk, even if the rewards were great. He believed he had found a lost crate filled with shining jewels... and a mirror. It was so delicately crafted that he was mesmerized. Vil didn't even notice the harpoon that wedged itself into his tail. Right above where ankles would be on a human. Trying to swim away was excruciating, so he tried to hang on to a rock instead. That didn't work either, he could feel his flesh ripping and taste the blood in the waters around him. Another harpoon, directly into his arm. Vil let out a cry and his gills pulsated frantically. From there, he knew where this was going. Straight onto the deck, glaring at the captain. Her face, along with her uncovered chest had multiple large scars, some going town her torso, some further.
Maybe if they were a little deeper I wouldn't be in this situation. Vil scoffed, mustering enough strength to prop himself up with an arm. Her arms were covered in tattoos of various plants. None of which he recognized.
It was strange, the captain wasn't what the stories described.
She was perhaps even worse.
The captain finally spoke, slapping a hand against her thigh and barking out an order to her first mate, "Jack!" She called, a growl in her voice, but no apparent malice on her face.
That changed when her eyes met Vil's. She leaned forwards and tilted her head, the feathers that adorned her hat moved along with her, except for the occasional breeze that changed their flow. "Get the brig ready, we don't want this gem slipping out of our hands, do we?"
The captain stood, grabbing the sword that was wedged between the planks and giving one last sneer to Vil before disappearing below the deck.
He would have been offended at how rude this was, if he weren't just kidnapped, bleeding out, and now destined for some horrible demise at the hands of whoever these pirates decided to sell him off to.
Would his scales become makeup for a noble lady?
Would his fins become adornments on a kings' throne?
He shuddered at the thought. He hated to admit it but he was scared. From what little he had seen, Vil knew the horror stories from wounded merfolk were true.
The first mate, a wolf beastman apparently named Jack, stood in front of where his captain was sitting shortly before. His stare was different from the captain's, it was... well, Vil couldn't quite tell. He didn't have any time to figure it out either, because he was picked up and slung over Jack's shoulder. Despite the situation, it wasn't the worst view imaginable. The first mate was clearly very well built. Be it from personal training or hauling merpeople around, Vil didn't know.
And then he was seated on a cell floor, it was a strangely delicate gesture, followed by a SLAM of the cell door. Still Bleeding, his tail began to itch, and a burning sensation took hold as he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning in pain as he reached out to the steel bars, trapping him inside the small cell. He'd never been claustrophobic before, but the gravity of the situation began to fall upon him. Like a boulder trapping him under and crushing him, stealing the air from his lungs.
Air, he gasped. His gills were gone. Vil had to blink a few times, and feel where his gills once were to believe it. His tail was gone. In the place of it were two human legs peppered with patches of scales. On the ground around him was what looked like a jellyfish made out of snake shed. Or perhaps the reverse of that... With this shock, Vil felt suddenly very cold, as if he had just been exposed to a chill he was once immune to.
Steps sounded from the stairwell again as the first mate appeared to be carrying a bundle of cloth, and being tailed by a small, red-headed person.
"You've shifted already?" Jack asked, it seemed to be rhetorical, whatever that 'shifting' was made Vil feel like he was peeled out of his own skin. "The first time's always the worst, I hear" Jack continued, dropping the pile of cloth, clothes, Vil assumed he'd seen some before while exploring some cargo wrecks, near the bars.
"So you'll clothe me, but you'll also let me bleed out?" Vil scoffed, he didn't expect to, he was shivering and his voice felt hoarse. Terribly so.
"That's what he's for" Jack tilted his head down to the short man, "He's all yours Riddle. Let me know if ya' need me to hold 'im down" He crossed his arms, letting out a huff.
"You're awfully confident" Vil spat back.
"You're awfully wounded" The redhead, Riddle, retorted. His eyebrow was quirked, as if what he just said was common sense.
But, Vil supposed it was. He was in no condition to fight back, especially now that he had legs that he did not know how to use, and a gash in his arm.
The gash was hideous against his once-perfect skin. Bright red mingling with the saltwater dripping off his arm.
"AUGH" he cried out, when a cloth dipped in some kind of cleaning agent was pressed against his wound. The pain, mixed with the strong smell from the mystery substance made his mind go blank.
It was searing. It was horrible. He felt he could die at any moment.
Panting heavily, digging his nails into his own flesh.
He went out like a light.
Next Chap.
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password-door-lock · 8 months
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Mystictober Day 14-- Pirate
You've been aboard the Magenta for roughly a day and a half, and in that time, you've come to understand that nothing you thought you knew about pirates was even remotely accurate. They do bathe, thankfully, at least as much as the average person does, and (if your present situation is anything to go on) they do take captives. There have been plenty of opportunities for you to walk the plank in your brief time here, but none have been taken— in fact, the Captain has explicitly prohibited her crew from harming you in any way, even going so far as to put you in the care of her first mate. Still, you have a reputation to maintain as a representative of your kingdom and the heir to its throne.  
“You won't get away with this,” you hiss when Unknown finally makes his way below deck to check on you. It seems like the thing to say in this situation.
He doesn't seem particularly intimidated— then again, he never does. “Is that so, prince(ss)? It seems like I've already gotten away with it. You're here, aren't you?”
You suppose he's technically correct, but he must know what you meant. “My crew will come back for me.” Or the palace will send a fleet of ships, though you doubt they’ll be able to catch the Magenta— assuming she’s the only vessel in the Mint Eye fleet, which she definitely isn't. All that gold needs to go somewhere, after all, and it certainly wouldn't fit aboard a single ship.
“Oh no,” Unknown feigns terror, though it's clear he's trying to restrain his laughter. “Whatever will I do? I couldn't bear to fight them off a second time with twice the crew, while holding onto all their assets!” He cackles. “Really. They don't even have a ship anymore— do you want them to come after us in rowboats?”
“I didn't think of that,” you admit. It is true that the Mint Eye pirates stripped everything of value from your ship before sinking it, but news will reach the palace eventually, and then they’ll send more ships to track you down. Of course, you likely won’t be allowed at sea ever again once you’re returned to your kingdom, and you doubt you’ll have a moment of privacy until you take the throne, for fear of the pirates returning. “But you still won't get away with this.” You're beginning to question this mantra of yours, actually, no matter how many times you say it— but Unknown doesn't need to know that. Apparently, plundering ships and wielding a sword can burden a person with a very impressive ego.
He shakes his head. “You know that's not true, prince(ss).”
“What do you want with me, anyway?” You still don't fully understand. You have yet to so much as converse with Captain Rika, and her first mate has either been sworn to secrecy or (more likely) found a great deal of enjoyment in stringing you along— which is to say that he has not answered a single one of your sundry questions.
“You don't need to know that.” Unknown establishes himself across from you, placing both elbows on the table as if to claim it, just as he seems to claim everything that falls under his gaze. Perhaps that sort of behavior is par for the course in his line of work. “But I already told you I'd be good to you.”
That's a subjective promise, though you are reluctantly willing to admit that he hasn't broken it so far. He's given you regular meals, clothes to wear, and a bed to rest in, though the latter two provisions are clearly his own, and you have yet to sleep a wink since boarding the Magenta. Unknown kept his lantern on all night as he made an extensive entry in some sort of log book, and you get the feeling that tonight will be no different. “You're holding me against my will.” Though that is not much different from your situation at the palace— why else would you have taken to the sea? At least this arrangement will give you stories to tell and something to do with your time.
Unknown rolls his striking green eyes. He’s certainly handsome, if you like men who board ships that aren’t theirs and leave with gold that doesn’t belong to them. “You're welcome to leave at any time.”
“But I don't have a boat!” And you wouldn't know how to get it to land if you did have it, though you neglect to share this with Unknown. He would find it funny, no doubt, and mock you for your pitiful lack of what he considers “basic skills.” Of course, your upbringing, much like his, was anything but basic.
“Hm,” Unknown pretends to consider the trap he's sprung for you. “Then it looks like you'll be staying here for a while, prince(ss). May as well make yourself comfortable.” He smirks at you, knowing very well that he’s already won. There was never a battle to be had— if anybody had bothered to ask you, you’d have chosen the Magenta over the palace any day. 
“You're insufferable,” you complain, though, in truth, your discussions with Unknown have been the highlight of your time aboard this vessel. He's certainly the most interesting person you've ever met, and he's easy on the eyes, as well— not that this matters to you. Your assessment of his character is entirely objective, regardless of any feelings of attraction that you may or may not be harboring. “Did you know that?”
“Mhm,” he smirks, rising to lean all the way across the table so that he can speak close to your ear. “But you like me.”
You bite your lip, more to restrain your laughter than anything else. Though it's strange, you feel at ease around Unknown— or, more at ease than you ever felt in the palace, at least. The courtiers expected you to play the role of a proper royal heir, but here, you feel no obligation to be anyone but yourself— and though you know he’d never admit it, you get the feeling that Unknown is interested in more than whatever you might be able to bring him. Though, if he’s seeking a ransom, you could certainly bring him quite a lot. “I don't see how that's relevant.”
Unknown just laughs. “Cute,” he decides, stepping away. “Now, be quiet while I finish my work.”
You roll your eyes but say nothing. Yes, you could get used to being a pirate, you decide. It can’t be all bad, if you get to stay with him. 
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milarqui · 1 year
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Scarlet Lady: Captain Hardrock
Directory | Riposte
“Hey, Nino, where's your boy?” Alya asked as Nino adjusted the loudspeakers.
Kitty Section – the group their classmates had formed – was going to play as part of the city-wide concert Paris was going to enjoy today, and they had been invited on board of the Liberty, Juleka's mother's house-boat, where the group would be at. And, currently, they were helping organize everything so it would make for an awesome concert.
“He had something to do with his pops, he's coming after,” he said, testing the connections were alright. Alya winked at Marinette while doing a fist pump.
“That's great news, huh, Marinette?”
“Yeah!” the girl replied, smiling. “It's always great when Adrien can hang out with his friends!”
She walked away, picking up stuff while humming a melody, ignorant of the look Alya was giving her.
This girl's level of denial is amazing.
Suddenly, the box Marinette was holding to act as an improvised bin was taken off her hands.
“What are you doing, buccaneer?” Anarka, Juleka's mother, said, grinning.
“Oh, uh, cleaning?” she said. While the place was nowhere close to a pigsty, it was absurdly disorganized and could use a dusting or two.
“Ha! We don't clean here! Didn't ya hear from Juleka?” Anarka said, throwing the box in such a way that everything Marinette had collected became spread around the deck. “We keep it lively here! Everything goes on the Liberty!”
“Bonjour!”
Marinette gritted her teeth. Even here, she couldn't get rid of that.
“A princess is coming aboard!”
“Chloé?!” Marinette exclaimed, groaning.
“Aw, what?!” Nino complained.
Juleka walked up to her mother and pointed at Chloé.
“Everything goes on the Liberty except her,” she said, and Anarka nodded. She had heard enough of what the rich girl had done to her daughter, and there were limits on what she'd allow.
“Ugh, no red carpet?” Chloé complained as Ivan confronted her.
“Chloé, what are you doing here?”
“I'm here to see Adrien, obviously!”
“Huh? How'd you know about that?!”
“I heard he was coming and decided to grace your pitifully small concert. Aren't I the nicest?”
Ivan didn't bother with answering, knowing that the truth would come in by one ear and out of the other.
Instead, he grabbed her by her arms, effortlessly lifted her, put her back on the dock, and with Juleka and Mylène, pulled the plank.
“HEY!” Chloé shouted, as her plans were so easily foiled.
----
Since they had time to kill, Anarka decided to instruct the neophytes in the art of sailing (mostly Alya and Marinette, since Nino was still busy with the sound system) about some of the things that helped her run her house-boat.
“See, mateys, never put metal next to the compass, ya hear?” she said, holding a metal statue of a hand throwing the horns, and putting it closer to the compass. “The metal attracts the needle, like a magnet.”
“Whoa, it's going totally crazy!” Alya noted, picking the hand from Anarka and seeing the compass needle turning every which way around. She gave a knowing grin at Marinette. “Remind you of anyone in particular? Maybe a blonde someone??”
“You mean you and Nino?” Marinette innocently replied, and Alya began to blush heavily as this particular attempt to poke fun at her friend backfired. “Wait, neither of you are blonde.”
“No!”
----
“Those idiots are gonna regret kicking out a VIP like me!”
Why couldn't she just grab the earrings and leave?
“Chloé, you weren't invited! Let it go!”
Seriously, what was the use of being the voice of reason for a girl that refused to listen?
“Oh! Yoo-hoo, officer! I want to file a complaint!”
And, as luck would have it, it had to be the one officer that would likely take Chloé at face value.
Tikki prepared herself. Someone was going to get akumatized out of this.
----
Adrien played the last notes of the song, feeling his father's piercing glare behind him.
“Let's stop here,” Gabriel said, and he began to stand up when his father's next words cut through him. “Practice more and play it for me later.”
“But père! My friends' concert! You promised!”
Seriously, what was the use of Gabriel promising anything when he would just as easily break that promise without a thought?
“Not after that poor performance,” Gabriel replied, and Adrien felt ready to call BS on that. “You need focus.”
Gabriel left the room, followed by Nathalie, and Adrien remained sitting, crushed by yet another broken promise and losing the chance to be with his friends for his free time. With no one else in sight, Plagg slowly came out of his hideaway and floated towards Adrien.
“Hey, kid, don't take it too hard, K?” he said, in an uncharacteristically mollyfying tone; after everything he had seen Gabriel do, he knew Adrien wasn't going to take it well.
Much to his surprise, Adrien didn't answer, which left him worried.
“Are you okay?” he asked, approaching him further – until he saw Adrien was checking something in his phone.
“What do you think, pink dye or blue dye this time?” Adrien seriously asked. Plagg felt a bit weirded out by the question.
Well, at least he wasn't moping about it...
----
Nino's phone sounded out and he quickly picked up: by the melody, it was likely Adrien.
“Hey, man, what's up?” he asked, and Marinette and Alya turned to look at their friend, waiting for news on when he would arrive –
“Oh, no way, really?” Nino said, his upbeat expression turning sour. The girls knew what it meant. “Your pops is hella harsh.”
Nino listened a bit more.
“My favorite color? Why do you need to know my favorite color?” he asked. And he was as mystified by the request as the girls... before he listened to Adrien's answer.
Which made him turn in shock and alarm.
“ADRIEN, PUT THE CREDIT CARD DOWN!”
Whatever it was that Adrien wanted to do, Nino convinced him to, at least, hold off on it for a while before he did something drastic, much to the girls' relief, before Anarka came by again.
“Marinette, right?” she said, and Marinette nodded.
“Yes, uh, captain?”
“Since I relieved you of cleaning duties, would you go to Luka's cabin and tell him we're waiting for him for the rehearsal?”
“Sure!”
Anarka gave her directions to Juleka's brother's room – which, given that they were still in a house-boat, wasn't that hard – and off she went, knocking on the door before carefully opening it.
“Hm?” she mumbled, noticing there was someone meditating on the bed.
Oh! A cute boy...
She may love Chat Noir, but that didn't mean she was blind to anyone else's looks.
Then the cute boy – who had to be Luka – opened his eyes and smiled.
Gah! Cute boy looking at me!
And thus began one of the problems she'd always hated.
“Ma-Ma-Marinette!” she tried to present herself. “Uhhh, your mother told me to tell you to join the blood-GROUP!”
WHY AM I LIKE THIS? she thought, blushing heavily. The moment she calmed down, though, she was able to look down and away. What a great first impression, Marinette.
----
Being interrupted in his meditation by a pretty girl was not what he expected to end up with, much less his sister's friend that had helped her with the photos. Seeing her blush and shake her arms around was somehow a great combination of cute and funny, but it was clear that she didn't think the same, because she now looked unhappy.
“The group is waiting for you,” she managed to say. He thought he'd try to break the ice with a small joke.
“Hi, Ma-Ma-Marinette!” he replied – and immediately realized he had screwed up.
AHH! he thought. Instead of laughing, Marinette now looked even unhappier than earlier. You made her sad, fix it, quick!
Quickly looking around, he picked up his guitar and pick and showed them to his guest.
“Sorry, I communicate better with this. Wanna hear?”
“Okay...” she replied. Alright, he had a chance to fix it, he couldn't waste it!
----
As the last notes of the song Luka had chosen vanished, she felt her mood rise in happiness. He was an artist with his guitar!
“That's amazing,” she praised. “How'd you do that?”
“Music is clearer than words,” he replied, smiling, as he began to stand up from the bed. She looked around, and noticed a familiar poster.
“And you like Jagged Stone?”
“He's my favorite singer.”
“Mine too!”
Smiling, Luka gave her the pick he had just used to play his song.
“You can keep that if you want. I have plenty.”
Marinette admired the object in her hand. It was a simple pick: triangular, plastic, with a drawing that resembled Jagged Stone. But Marinette knew that it hid that, much like her own needles, it could create works of art in the right hands.
“Oh! Thanks!”
“Let's go join the 'blood', funny girl,” Luka said, opening the door, and Marinette felt her heart doing a skip... before she began to slap her face.
What are you doing?! she thought. Your heart belongs to Chat Noir!
She knew Pollen was looking at her with bemusement, but it wasn't as if she could explain what was going on to her!
----
“This year for the Music Festival, the City of Paris has organized a whole series of free concerts with great stars in prestigious places!” Nadja Chamack happily proclaimed in her news cast. “You'd have to be a complete loser to miss it!”
Adrien felt like punching the TV screen, but instead he chose to hit his table in annoyance.
“Why do you mock me, Nadja?!” he called the reporter out, even if he knew she couldn't hear him.
“Hey, at least you can watch online!” Plagg tried to console him, but Adrien wasn't going to take it.
“I only cared about my friends' concert, Plagg. I'd sneak out if Père wasn't gonna check on me later,” he replied, annoyed with his kwami partner.
“Is that all? Then I'll give you a private concert!”
Plagg cleared his throat and –
“CHEEEESE! You astound me!”
Adrien quickly covered his ears. He really understood now why Plagg was the Kwami of Destruction. He was destroying his ear drums, his brain, and the good name of music itself with this outright abomination against nature he was belting out. He didn't even have the decency to speak of something nice!
He wasn't one to scream imprecations. The one time he had told his father (through Nathalie) to fuck off was one of the few times he had.
But here and now? It deserved the cluster bomb of unprintable words that poured out of his mouth.
----
As she saw her brother coming out from under the deck, and into the stage, she could tell he had had a life-changing experience. The fact that he was blushing like mad made it obvious what it was.
“You met Marinette, didn't you, Luka?” she teased her elder (by just a few minutes) brother, who looked away, still embarrassed.
“Shut up.”
----
Alya watched as Marinette coming from the cabins' section, and noticed how intent her best friend seemed in looking at the stage.
“Whatcha lookin' at?” she asked, looking in the same direction as her, and realizing someone new standing with the others. Quite the nice-looking boy, if she had to say it.
“Hm? Oh, was I staring?” Marinette said, shaken out of her stupor.
“Is that Luka?” She gave Marinette a teasing look. “Is your compass moving towards a new statue?”
“Whaaat?” Marinette waved her away. “No! That's not – I just think he's cool! And nice. And so mature! He's really got it together.”
----
Meanwhile, on the stage, someone had not got it together yet.
She's looking at you, keep it cool man! Ahhhhhhhhh!
Fortunately, by the time the sound was on, and his mother picked up a microphone to act as MC, he was able to redirect his nervous energy towards what it really mattered right now.
Which was giving an awesome concert.
“Alright, First Mate Luka! Whenever you're ready!” his mother announced, and he readied his second pick of the day. He had to begin this in the most awesome of ways if he wanted to impress Marinette! He brought it down –
“STOP RIGHT THERE!”
– and he stopped.
“Huh?!”
Everyone looked to the dock, where a police officer they were quite familiar with stood, showing his badge and speaking through a loudspeaker.
“Mme. Anarka, we've received a noise complaint!” Officer Roger Raincomprix shouted, leaving everyone dumbfounded – particularly since they had not even played a single note.
“A noise complaint?! From who!?” Anarka demanded.
“Yoo-hoo!” Chloé called out from the police car.
“Oh C'MON!” everyone who had had the displeasure of knowing the rich girl yelled in unison.
----
As Anarka turned to the intrusion, the officer continued to speak.
“Mlle. Bourgeois has been traumatized by your playing!” the man yelled, and her daughter's bully hid her false tears behind her hands.
“It's true! They deliberately tried to deafen me with their music!”
“ARE YOU AN IDIOT?! We haven't even played yet!” Anarka shouted back through her ship's bullhorns.
“I have a witness, Madame!” Raincomprix said. And that really irked her.
“Ha! I knew you were a landlubber, but I didn't know you were a bootlicker too!”
She knew she had hit a nerve when the officer cast away the loudspeaker.
“Oh, you wanna go there?!”
“Bring it, you scally wag!” she dared the man, who immediately pulled out his ticket book.
“No authorization to dock here, no concert! And the mess! And the decorations!” He began to write down. “A ticket for your attitude, for provocation, for my sea sickness, and cuz I can!”
He realized too late that he would be unable to actually hand the tickets over, given that the plank was now missing. So, he resorted to folding them into planes and throwing them at Anarka, who surprisingly waited for them to reach her before balling them up, throwing them away... and exploding.
“YOU BILGE RAT SCUM!”
“And one for name calling!”
Then a black butterfly landed on her ship's binnacle.
----
He had to admit that this was... strange.
He prided himself in ensuring everything remained organized and in place, as it was the only way to make sure all worked as expected.
It was one of the reasons why he disliked the heroes – they threw off his plans to succeed.
And no, he wasn't a control freak like that employee of his had once said when he thought he was away. He was lucky he was only fired for putting two mannequins for that expo in the wrong order. That would teach him for misrepresenting his boss!
But now... he was in the hands of a woman that thought herself an anarchist – and actually followed on it with her children! He had even akumatized one of them. It was a wonder they weren't a wild bunch.
Well, he could roll with it.
“Captain Hardrock, I'll give you an indestructible ship to blast your music for all to hear!”
“Oh, yeah, that's a way better plan! I was just not gonna pay the tickets.”
Given what he had learned, he seriously doubted she would have had paid the tickets, anyway.
----
She smirked at the losers in the boat. They thought they were smart for pushing her out of the ship? Well, now they would learn to respect their betters!
“Bet you wish you'd let me on now~!” she sing-sang.
“BOOOOO!” Césaire, Couffain and Lahiffe booed. Ugh, seriously, here she was, lowering her standards to raise theirs, and that was how they thanked her?
Then her eyes turned to the guy next to Couffaine.
Whoa, wait, who's that?! He's cute! Dresses like trash, though.
“Who's that?” the cute boy asked, pointing at her.
“You know, her,” Couffaine said.
Yes! Try not to swoon from my name alone! she giddily thought; she knew all boys were in love with her, they just needed to meet her to prove it!
“Chloé Bourgeois.”
Immediately, the cute boy's face turned into something that, if she didn't know better, she would say was disgust. Which, in the Chloé equivalent of a Central Processing Unit, was something that could not be processed.
“Oh, her,” he said, and the Chloé Processing Unit was unable to register the fact that he sounded like he disliked her, since it was impossible.
“What's that look for?!” she asked.
The sorry excuse for a boat suddenly began to shake and transform into something like a ship from those pirate movies she saw. She barely remembered them, 'cause the only good thing about them was the cute boy that was the hero, but she did remember him piloting a ship like the one that now held the losers.
“Oh no!” Dupain-Cheng said, as the cute boy looked to the back of the ship.
“Maman?!”
She looked to the back, and saw a woman wearing some atrocious get-up that she wouldn't get caught in dead, along with make up that made her look like a clown and hair that looked like it was one of those characters in that super-boring thing she saw Adrien watching one day before she got him to change the channel.
“Your mother has set sail, cut-throats! I am Captain Hardrock! There'll be only one concert in Paris!” She began to turn that wheel-thing, and the boat began to move. “Next stop, Jagged Stone and the Eiffel Tower!”
“Chloé, that means your father is in danger!” Tikki said, popping out from her bag.
“Meh, just his lame orchestra.” Seriously, why did Tikki care about that? It wasn't made of important people, after all.
“What about that XY guy you like so much?” Tikki asked.
She panicked.
“Oh no, not XY!”
She couldn't allow this Akuma to hurt her favorite singer!
----
“To your instruments, sailors! Blast the decibels!” Captain Hardrock declared, but her children and the rest of Kitty Section laid down their instruments and looked at the Akuma.
“Maman, no,” Luka declared, trying to get her to stand down. Unfortunately, Akumas were not known for peacefully standing down.
“A mutiny, is it?!” She waved her spyglass, and suddenly chains flew out from somewhere in the ship. “Liberty! Capture these rats and send them down the hold!”
One chain went around Ivan and Mylène, who were face to face.
“OUCH!”
“Are you okay, Ivan?”
Another, around Juleka and Rose, with the former hugging the latter from behind.
“JULEKA!”
“It'll be okay, Rose.”
The third, around Marinette and Luka, who were (fortunately for their sanity) back-to-back, although that didn't keep them from blushing.
“Omigosh I'm so sorry!” Marinette babbled.
The last chain went for Nino and Alya, who were placed in a 'compromising' position.
“I'm not touching I swear!” Nino said, looking everywhere but the girl that was now 'trapped' between his legs.
Quickly, the deck below them disappeared, causing them to land in the cabins that had been turned into jails.
----
“Paris is once again under threat of attack,” Nadja Chamack said, matter-of-factly, as the title under her stated No Fun Allowed.
Finally! An excuse to get out! Not the one he wanted, of course, but it still worked out the same!
“Woohoo! Plagg, I'm ungrounding us!”
“Wohoo,” Plagg repeated: he was still salty about Adrien's complete lack of enthusiasm over his cheese song. But he still complied when Adrien called out the magic words, and Chat Noir jumped out of the window, using his baton to quickly reach his target in one of the Seine's docks.
“I can even check in on my friends–” he thought, but then an unwelcome sight showed up next to him.
“SCAR?!”
“There you are, alley-cat!”
“Good feeling gone,” Chat Noir complained.
----
In the jail that was also Luka's room, Marinette and Luka were struggling to get out of the chains trapping them together, unsuccessfully, as they were too tight to slip out of.
Marinette noticed, from the corner of her eye, Pollen slipping out of her purse and opening the lock with a bit of magic, causing the chain to fall from around them.
“Wow! How'd you do that?” Luka asked, surprised.
“It was–” Pollen began to speak, only for Marinette to quickly grab and muffle her, to avoid her from blowing up her secret identity. She then cleared her throat, in an attempt to mask the error.
“Erm, with this!” she said, showing the pick Luka had given her earlier.
“You're amazing, Marinette!” he said, standing up and opening one of the windows. Before they could jump, though, heavy steps sounded near the door. “Here she comes!”
And he waved her towards the bed.
Marinette jumped under just as a boot opened the door, followed by the Akuma.
“Traitorous knaves!” Captain Hardrock declared, aiming her sword at Luka. “Capture him.”
Under the bed, Marinette silently bid Pollen not to make a noise, which the kwami fortunately understood, knowing that they were in a pickle.
“That girl... she won't be able to go far,” the Akuma said, before dragging Luka away.
As soon as she was certain she was on the clear, Marinette transformed, and Marigold jumped out of the window, giving a way round to mask where she was actually coming from.
She really didn't want to give Hawkmoth ideas about her identity!
----
Atop the Liberty's deck, things weren't going very fine for the heroes, as they were unable to get closer to the Akuma without her using her power.
“Capture them!” she ordered, and chains flew at the two. Chat Noir was able to deflect them by twirling his baton, but Scarlet Lady, less skilled, quickly got her arms trapped.
“Hey!” she shouted.
“HA!” Marigold shouted, and a strike of her spinning top broke the chains holding Scarlet Lady.
“Marigold! You made it!” Chat Noir exclaimed, relieved.
“Haha! It's harder to sneak away than I thought!” Marigold said, scratching the back of her head.
“Ha! That just proves how much of a new-bee you are!” Scarlet Lady laughed, but Marigold glared back at her.
“Must be easy for you since you don't have friends,” she retorted.
Further discussions had to be put on hold when Captain Hardrock interrupted with a repetition.
“Capture them!”
Deflecting the chains, Chat Noir turned to Marigold.
“Got an idea where the Akuma is?!”
“Somewhere on the barge!” She had not been looking when the Akuma landed, but it was likely somewhere near the wheel.
“Then I can settle this with a Cat–”
“NO!” Marigold shouted, using her spinning top to catch Chat Noir's arm. “She has hostages! They could drown if you sink the ship!”
Chat Noir gulped at how close he had been to make a mistake.
“Oh! Good catch!”
“So? The cleansing spell will bring them back,” Scarlet Lady said. She said it in such a nonchalant tone that Marigold (who had known what little regard she had for other people's lives when The Gamer attacked) was shocked.
“Huh?!”
“Good lord, Scar, no,” Chat Noir said, disgusted.
The group split off: Chat Noir went up to distract the Akuma, while Marigold (and Scarlet Lady) went down to free the hostages.
----
Chat Noir put all his fencing skills into fighting Captain Hardrock. It was a bit hard, as most of his training was about dodging and thrusting, and this required more like parrying and slashing, but he was doing fine.
“Scally wag! Landlubber! Bilge rat!” Captain Hardrock insulted.
“That's bilge cat to you!” If she was going to insult him, at least she should use the proper insults!
----
“Scarlet Lady!” Rose and Alya exclaimed, as Marigold tensed her string.
“Let's get you out of here!”
With quick swings of her weapon, the chains holding the teens were broken down, and they stretched out a bit before they got ready to leave.
But Luka had something else to do, and picked Marigold's hand.
“Marigold! Is Marinette okay?!”
“She's okay! She's the one who warned me!” the heroine said, and Luka smiled.
“Wow, that girl is brave...”
Someone else in the room didn't share that appreciation.
Why's he so focused on Clumsinette?! Scarlet Lady thought. She knew what she could do, though! The cute boy would drop the new-bee like a hot potato when he saw this!
“Scarlet Lady will save the day with Lucky Charm!”
“Yay!” Césaire said. At least she had good taste.
Then the Lucky Charm landed on her hand.
“Eh? What's this?”
It looked like the thing the Akuma had used on her, but it was still a mystery.
“Well, save us, hero,” Marigold said, scornfully.
Scarlet Lady was about to make a retort, but suddenly two objects fell from atop.
Chat Noir's baton in its split form.
“Hoho! Your Miraculous will be my war treasure, minou!”
Marigold quickly jumped on the ropes to climb up.
“Chat Noir!”
“That idiot!” Scarlet Lady said, not caring much about him.
The two heroes left behind Chat Noir's baton... which Luka picked up.
“Guys, follow my lead.”
----
Marigold managed to force Captain Hardrock to step away from Chat Noir and freed him, but they still had to deal with the Akuma.
“HAHAHA! Liberty! Onward to City Hall!”
“Oh nooo, not the lame orchestra,” Scar said, once more showing her lack of care for anyone that wasn't herself.
Suddenly, the boat began to lurch.
“Whoa–! What?!” Captain Hardrock exclaimed. Then she looked, and there, at port, the group of 'mutineers' were forcing a large pole into the bottom of the river. “You–! Mutinous scallywags!”
The 'mutinous scallywags' were Kitty Section, along with Mylène, Alya, and Nino, who had managed to enlarge Chat Noir's baton to make it drag along the riverbed, but they had soon noticed a problem: Chat Noir's baton might be nigh-unbreakable, but that didn't make them nigh-unbreakable. It was taking the effort of all seven of them just to keep the thing in place.
“We're gonna be so sore tomorrow!” Luka declared as everyone put their all into forcing the ship to run aground.
“Stop redirecting my ship!” Captain Hardrock shouted, brandishing her large sword and jumping to slash them. “Haaaa! HRK!”
The change of sound was because Marigold and Chat Noir had grabbed the Lucky Charm and jumped so as to drag the Akuma towards the most obvious place for the butterfly to be: the binnacle.
“An opening!” both heroes shouted at the same time, dragging the Akuma away as fast as possible until it slammed into the binnacle.
Unfortunately, they had been going so fast that, while they did manage to chain Captain Hardrock up, they also crashed into each other.
Marigold internally complained: she wanted to get closer to Chat Noir, but not like that!
As for the Black Cat Hero, he attempted to make a sense of where he was until he touched the closest metallic surface.
“C-Cataclysm,” he said, destroying the binnacle and freeing the blasted butterfly.
Fortunately, Scar was actually able to do her job and purified the butterfly before using the Miraculous Cure.
Of course, that was more than enough to set off her hateful side.
“Your hero has once saved the day!” she declared, even though she hadn't even tried to fight the Akuma.
“Uh, didn't we save the day?” Nino pointed out, and Scar glared down at him.
“NO!”
Ignoring the usual, Chat Noir approached Marigold, smiling.
“That makes three Akumas now, right?”
Marigold looked at him, wondering what was going on... until he rose a fist.
“Bien Joué, partner,” he said, and Marigold felt like she had received every Christmas present she wanted for the next decade right now. But, instead of jumping in joy that Chat Noir was finally warming up to her, she mirrored his move.
“Bien Joué!”
And they bumped fists for the first time as Heroes.
----
Adrien managed to return home just a few minutes before his father arrived to his room.
He wasn't sure why the man was so intent on putting up some impossible standards, but, well, he could try.
“Play, Adrien,” Gabriel ordered, and he had an idea.
“Actually, Père, I was hoping we could play together?”
“Together?”
Was he wrong, or was there a tone of something weird in his voice?
“You know, since I can't go to my friends' concert,” he reminded his father.
Gabriel adjusted his glasses as he sat next to him.
“T-That won't be necessary, you may go to your friends' concert,” he decided.
Adrien quickly cheered.
“Really?!” He hugged his father. “Thank you, Père!”
----
Gabriel knew he had very different intentions to what his son thought.
He can't know I haven't played in ten years!
----
After Luka played a few notes, Officer Roger checked the sound level meter he had been assigned for this task.
“Well, it's a few decibels above the limit...”
Chloé was smirking, certain that she would get her way once more.
“But, what the heck, it's the music festival!” the officer said, putting the device in his pocket, much to everyone's joy.
“WHAT?!”
Well, not everyone's joy.
“They're breaking the rules!” Chloé yelled. “Do I need to call my Daddy?”
“Funny you mention that,” Officer Roger Raincomprix said, leaning down to give the spoiled brat a very nasty smile. “My daughter and I looked into it and turns out the Mayor doesn't actually have the kind of jurisdiction to fire me!”
Chloé sweated. So much for her plan.
And, for once, she understood she had lost this round, and beat it back to her home.
Much to Adrien's luck, as he arrived just a few minutes later.
“Hi, everyone!” he greeted as he stepped into the Liberty.
“Adrien!” Nino cheered, and Adrien's eyes went to the deck – and one of the instruments.
“Whoa! An original ZX20.4?! Sick!” he said, approaching the electronic keyboard with awe.
“You can play that, dude?” Nino asked.
“For sure!” He had played on one like this several times, and he had trained to play the piano for long.
“Then welcome to the band, Adrien!”
“Thanks!” he told the unknown boy. Then he asked the question. “What band?”
----
The concert was in full swing, and Kitty Section was now playing what they hoped would be their first hit.
“I Love Unicorns!” Rose sang, surprisingly intense for such a sweet girl. “Almost as much as my girlfriend!”
And she pointed at Juleka, who stopped playing her bass as she turned to look at Rose, both blushing and horrified.
“That's right, Paris, France! I have a super hot gothic girlfriend!” Rose continued, even as Juleka tried to beg her not to put her in the spotlight.
She had picked the bass precisely to stay out of it!
----
The crowd formed in and around the Liberty cheered as Luka's guitar strummed the last notes of the song, and the band bowed to their grateful public.
“That's a wrap!” Luka announced, and Adrien jumped off the stage to meet his favorite fan.
“Marinette!” he said, happy that she had been there to watch.
“Hey!” she greeted him, smiling. “That looked like fun!”
“Yeah, it was great!” he replied, sitting next to her. “I've never gotten to play with others before! Did I look alright?”
Marinette giggled.
“Yeah, super cool!”
“Really?!”
He couldn't think of higher praise.
With the post-concert party going on, Marinette apologized so she could check on the girls, and he kept looking after her, until Luka approached him.
“You know Marinette?” he asked.
“Yeah! She's awesome, right?”
“Oh yeah, really sharp too.”
“Exactly!” Luka did know how wonderful Marinette was!
“Really quick on her feet.”
“You wouldn't believe the plans she thinks up!”
“Very cute too.”
“Gorgeo–”
Wait.
He turned to glare at the sudden rival that had sprung out of nowhere.
What do you think you're doing? he asked with his eyes.
Luka just smiled back at him.
The gauntlet has been thrown.
----
After a long day, Marinette was finally back at home, and she admired the photo that was the jewel of her small collage, hanging next to the mysterious pendant she had received for her birthday.
“I feel so guilty for getting caught in Luka! Forgive me, Chaton!” she said, caressing the photo of her Chat Noir sticking his tongue out.
“You have no reason to feel guilty about liking multiple people!” Pollen cheered from her sit at her knees.
“Really?” Was she blushing? Yeah, she was blushing.
“Of course! It's natural! Queens often have many consorts!”
“Huh?!”
Wait, consorts? As in plural? More than one?
“You have your chivalrous knight to fight for you, and your lovely bard to sing your praises!” Pollen continued, ignoring her meltdown. “And a romantic prince to–”
“You lost me at consort!”
----
Syren
@zoe-oneesama Hawkmoth thinks he's the orchestra director, but he can't play a note worth a damn!
OK, sorry for the wait. I've been visiting family this past week, and having times to sit down and write were not easy to find. But, well, here we are, with Luka's debut.
Next chapter, we'll have what @msweebyness has been waiting for: the first part of the Kim/Ondine pairing's day in the limelight. Hope it's fun!
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Movement and Fitness
tw: diet culture, ed
So, my relationship with fitness and exercise have been... interesting.
Growing up I never saw myself as athletic. I was the kid that read books during recess and I never really did any sports.
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In my college years I really got into Kpop and wanted to look like my favorite idols. Grant it, I was already very thin but want "long lean lines" so I started eating even less then the dismal amount I ate and started doing pilates and yoga on youtube. I think I was doing the blogilates challenges at the time. Although it never lasted long. I would have two weeks of being "consistent" and then not do anything for months.
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This went on for years where I barely ate and occasionally did yoga or pilates. Also when I did eat I made sure it was always "healthy, organic, natural, low carb" etc.
Overtime I started doing yoga more for the mindfulness of it. In my mid 20's I really got into hot yoga. It was a great stress reliever, but I still wasn't eating very much and I still saw movement as a means to burn calories.
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Then the pandemic hit. I was at least doing hot yoga (albeit slower paced) twice a week prior to the pandemic shutdown. Then the studio closed and I switched to working from home and didn't move at all for almost a year. I think I was averaging 500 steps a day. Any fitness I had been maintaining prior was all out the window now.
Then in May 2021, I woke up with a pain in my stomach worse then anything I had felt before and I have had some debilitating cramps before..... When I got to the hospital there wasn't any clear cause but they proposed my lack of movement and barely eating was causing damage to my digestion..... The pain subsided when I had food and walked around at the hospital. After that I realized I had to make some changes. So..... the next month, I bought a peloton XD
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As for diet I did a deep dive into nutrition and eating and found the AMAZING Abbey Sharp and Elaina Efird on youtube. Actual registered dietitians giving good quality advice. I started getting into intuitive eating. Although in the beginning I had to still track to make sure I was getting enough as prior I was getting around 1,000 calories a day and now was shooting for at least 2,000.
Then the peloton effect. So one great thing about the platform is the don't talk about diet culture at all. Its all about joyful movement, getting stronger, doing hard things, and having fun. It was such a mindset shift. I went from wanting to stay super thing to wanting to be strong and do cool things. I ended up buying the peloton tread six months after the bike.
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Although it was a reality check. When I first got sucked into the peloton world in June 2020 my fitness stats were:
Could only lift 5 pound weights and barely do a dead-lift with 10 pound weights (peloton has strength classes on the app)
Longest I could last was a 15 min cycling class where I had to stop and catch my breath halfway through.
Standing for longer then 5 minutes made me lightheaded.
Couldn't hold a plank on my knees or do one push on my knees
I had 0 core strength
Walking longer then 5 minutes left me winded.
I was at least semi flexible thanks to all the yoga......
I was objectively very weak......
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A year and a half later I can:
Use 15/20 pound weights for upper body and 30/40 pound weights for lower body.
I can do 5 full pushups and hold a plank for 90 seconds
I can stand for long periods of time without getting light headed
I can do 45 minute cycling classes and have done hour long cycling sessions.
I have a strong core!
I can go hiking with my friends and keep up! I've also taken hour long hiking classes on my tread :)
I'm more flexible and can now do crow, half moon, and warrior 3 in yoga!
I put on weight and muscle and although I'm no longer "societal thin" I feel so much better in my body and have adopted a body neutral stance. I care what my body can do and not what it looks like.
I feel so strong now!
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But in 2023 I have a new fitness focus and an evolved relationship which I will talk about in my next post!
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johnsamericano · 3 years
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𝒯𝒽𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎 𝓁.𝓉
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This is a continuation to ten’s fic I wrote for 23 days of NCT, which you can read here. There will be more chapters to this, so I hope you enjoy!
warnings: mentions of sex.
summary: Your mother hires the most wanted tailor in town to design a new dress for the ball, who turns out to be completely different from what you’d expected. But you couldn’t allow yourself to catch feelings for him, not when you were finally so close to marrying your childhood crush.
Threads of destiny m.list.
“Is everything alright, miss y/n?”
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been locked in your room for about ten minutes now. Do you require my assistance?”
“Please, I'm having trouble with my corset.” You tried fastening it by yourself, but it turns out your arms weren't that long.
The maiden twisted the doorknob, walking in with her head down to avoid any sort of eye contact. Her cold hands slid along your back as she tied up the piece of clothing, triggering memories of what had just happened a few moments ago. Once again, you could feel that warm sensation installing at the bottom of your tummy.
“Mr. Seo looks very handsome, he's dressed in a white suit.” She said with a hint of mischief.
Ah yes, the white suit. A popular tradition amongst the town inhabitants. Whenever a gentleman intended to ask for a lady’s hand, he'd dress in all white to meet with the male in charge of her family.
You knew it was bound to happen, but not so soon, especially after your short encounter with the tailor.
“That’s...great.”
The special corset Ten had confectioned had to be discarded as neither of you knew how to adjust it. You never had the chance to look at the dress with it on, but it didn't look so bad with a traditional one.
“Let’s head out, Miss y/n.” The maid bowed, leading the way to the spiral staircase.
Johnny looked extremely handsome, his black hair perfectly slicked back as he spoke with your oldest brother, his best friend. But for some reason, the butterflies in your stomach didn't awaken at the sight of him like they usually did.
“There she comes.” Your mother stood up from the sofa she was sharing with your father, a bright smile plastered on her face. “You should leave for the ball already, it's getting late.” She encouraged.
Johnny and your father exchanged a firm handshake as if they were sealing a deal. Had he already asked for your hand?
“May I?” He extended his muscular arm your way, your fingers wrapping around it delicately, almost afraid you'd ruin the white fabric if you squeezed too hard. “Let’s get going.”
While riding on the carriage, Johnny was wearing his brightest smile, playing with something inside his pocket.
“You look adorable.”
Adorable. You didn't want to be adorable, you wanted to feel sensual, just like Ten had made you feel almost an hour ago.
‘Stop thinking about him.’
“Thank you, you don't look so bad yourself.” Johnny loved how cheeky you were, it was hard to find a woman like that in a small town like yours.
“I talked to your father.” He declared, unable to contain his excitement. But why couldn't you share his emotions?
“Really?” His hand rested on top of yours, warm as it squeezed your fingers, an improper action for an unmarried couple. Not as improper as letting another man touch your naked body, of course.
‘Stop thinking about him, y/n!’
Throughout the rest of your short trip, none of you brought up the topic again, but his hand remained on top of yours. The ride was calm, no sound but the birds chirping outside. A beautiful spring day.
“We’re here.”
If you’d known what awaited you inside the ballroom, you would've run in the opposite direction as fast as possible.
Not even half an hour into the event, Johnny dragged you along to the dance floor, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly while he gave small steps around the center of the room. Dancing was the only acceptable time where a man could touch a woman, and Johnny never missed the chance to use said privilege.
Normally, you enjoyed being pressed against his muscular chest, but not today. All your mind could think about was the tailor’s body, how well-formed it looked even though it wasn't nearly as big as Johnny's.
“Is everything alright?” Johnny inquired worriedly, his eyes looking for your lost ones. “Are you feeling sick?”
To be honest, you were. All those pairs of eyes staring at you with big smiles made the knot in your stomach tighten. The motive of the party was getting clearer with every person you saw leaning to whisper something to another with their eyes still glued on you.
“Everything’s alright.” You closed your eyes.
Just like your grandma used to say: out of sight, out of mind.
“Sure?”
“Sure.”
Nonetheless, Johnny decided it was best to take a seat, just to avoid any incidents. He sat down with a very pale version of you right at the center of the large table. Something was definitely going to happen.
“You made it!” With a dashing smile, Johnny stood up, walking towards a figure you knew all too well. “Look who’s here, y/n.”
Was this a divine punishment? Cause it sure felt like it.
“The dress turned out better than I expected. Nice to see you again, lady y/n.”
“H-how...?”
“We’ve been friends since we were kids, I recommended him to your mother.”
Ten remained as calm as ever, offering a comforting smile as his friend explained the nature of their relationship. But your mind was drifting to earlier that day when you let a simple tailor like him touch you. Stupid, stupid y/n.
“My lady?” He called for you with his high-pitched voice.
“Huh?”
“If you're not feeling well, I'll call the driver so we can get you home. Parties always come and go.” Your soon-to-be fiancee was about to stand up when you finally snapped out of it.
“I’m fine. You were saying your families had been friends for generations?”
“Oh, yes!” Your sickness was soon forgotten as he resumed the story. “He’s the first son of a foreign aristocrat family, though he gave up the family business to be a tailor. Quite a strange man as you can see.”
“A wealthy tailor, how odd.” It's all you had to say about the newly acquired knowledge.
An hour later, a group of maids came into the ballroom with treats of every flavor and cups of tea with the smallest flowers painted on them. Considering how nervous you were, having Ten just a seat away from you, you stuffed your mouth with every edible item on the long table. Johnny had taken notice of your strange behavior already, but he remained silent, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere the guests had created.
Right after the tea, the long table was quickly taken out of the room by trained butlers, leaving the dancing floor clear for any couple to dance on its elegant and shiny, cedar wood planks.
“May I have this dance?” The band had just installed themselves at a corner of the room, ready to start playing as soon as someone gave them a cue. Everyone seemed to be looking at you, expecting you to be the one to open the dance floor.
“You may.” Your elegant fingers wrapped around his hand, only squeezing lightly, a gesture proper of a lady like you.
As Johnny made his way to the center of the ballroom with your hand still in the warmth of his own, all eyes were fixed on you, the most popular couple in town. You were expected to be married by spring next year, though the idea didn't seem nearly as exciting anymore.
With a hand in the curve of your waist and the other one holding your fingers, he started spinning around, pacing his steps with the melody playing in the background. His chocolate orbs were staring into your soul with a tender smile, anxious for what would be coming after the ballad ended.
“Do you like me, y/n?” He didn't give you time to articulate an answer, the words coming rapidly out of his mouth as the beat started dying. “Because I sure do like you, and even if your feelings aren't as strong as mine, I'll make sure to even them throughout the coming years.” The room was silent, only the crack of his knee echoing through the fancy walls as he kneeled, pulling out of his jacket a small, wooden box with your initials and his written with gold. “Will, you, Lee y/n, do me the honor of being my wife?”
You were supposed to be looking at him, smiling at the good news. But your eyes were busy scanning the room, looking for him. Once your eyes met, he simply smiled, raising the glass of champagne he was holding as if making a toast.
He knew. He knew from the very beginning, and still, he decided to play innocent and steal your precious flower.
“Yes, my dearest Johnny. I'd be honored to spend the rest of my days with you.”
His lips gently pressed against the back of your hand, the sudden warmth of his plush, rosy pillows sending chills through your spine. You turned back to your now-fiancee right when Ten’s hand tightened around the glass, the tips of his fingers turning white from the pressure.
He envied his friend, for he’d never be able to have a lady such as you by his side. After all, despite his family’s wealth, he was nothing more than a simple tailor.
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tevatstavern · 3 years
Text
Yang overload.
- Chongyun's positive (Yang) energy seemed to have gotten stronger lately, and it's starting to get out of hand more often than needed. Maybe a little talk about it won't hurt.
[chongyun x g.n reader] [no t.w] [slight fluff]
a.n I do apologize if they're always slight fluff, ehe I'm no good at fluffy fluffy yet! And the short summaries too;; (´;ω;`)
-•-
After a while of nothing but staring at the beautiful sight around Liyue in Wanmin, you've suddenly felt suspicious with Chongyun's present behaviour.
He seemed a little dazed, it was also accompanied with a emotionless face. You would've thought he was reflecting on his life as an exorcist. But, no. It wasn't anything like that all!
Infact, it was the complete opposite.
All he could ponder about in his mind was you. Though, It may seem like it was way too cheesy and unromantic to him. After all, he didn't have the time to have such fun or acquire a small crush on a person.
But that seemed to changed today.
With a sigh, you stirred your iced water with a graceful slide with your fingers. The ice cubes clinking slightly when touching the inner parts of the glass cup.
It was no secret that you were gifted a vision by the gods. It was no different on how the others had gotten them as well.
Flabbergasted by the sudden news, you immediately made your mind up to help the ones in dire need with your vision! Of course, it wasn't always a perfect and clean run helping out, but the compensation were definitely rewarding.
After all, with great power comes with great responsibility.
Well, to start off your day, you went ahead and tried to find a glimpse of a blue haired exorcist during the marketplace below, early in the morning. Since he seems to be here for a reason, and definitely was not intended on resting.
So you decided to tag along with him before and during his commissions given by Katheryne.
It was a mess trying to clean up the scattered Cor Lapis that suddenly spurred out of his hands the second he turned around to see you waving. And by total accident, you've managed to blow 1 away from the ground and straight to the ocean.
You've never felt so guilty yet quite amused this year. Wincing, as he came back drenched, bangs almost fully covering his eyes. The wooden planks also wet from his steps.
"Sorry! I- I seriously still don't know how to control this well! I'm so sorry-"
"Its alright, All that matters now is that I've gotten my Cor Lapis back. It would've been a disaster if it swept across oceans. It was good I manage to swim my way there on time."
And Giving him his homemade ice popsicles didn't even do the trick at all!
"..."
"..."
"...so, feel better?"
"No. The heat is slowly rising up an- and I can't seem to stop it- I- I think I might've eaten something hot while I was chewing!"
"Want me to make a sweeter version instead? Or do you want me to fetch some Cyro Whopperflower's real quick instead?"
"It- it's alright! just make the popsicles please!"
This weekend, chaos was happening more frequently around him, and you were sure it was bound to continue like this in the next weeks. Besides, you weren't sure if he was in the right mindset this afternoon after all the things that had happened this morning.
Of course you knew he was strong enough to handle such issues and problems himself! But, maybe it's time for you to intervene.
And so, with a nervous glint in your eyes, you opened up your mouth, "Hey.." you spoke out, His eyes seemingly snapping back into reality as soon as he heard your voice, before making an eye contact with you.
"Huh? What is it? My apologies, it seems like I've dozed off.." apologizing, he immediately averted his eyes. Oh dear, is he heating up quicker than usual?
"Its alright, really. I just wanted to ask if there was anything wrong lately. Uh, like your Yang energy?"
"It's nothing to worry about.. Recently, my Yang energy has gotten stronger over the past few weeks and I've been trying to restraint it as much as I can." He confessed, clearing his throat in the process before lifting one of his hands up to grab his iced drink.
With a tilt of a head, you hummed in response. "I don't know about you, but I think that's something to worry about. Any explanations on how it gotten stronger?"
"No, sadly. I'm still trying to find the reasons to it, still no luck. But that's not what matters now, we still have a commission we haven't done yet."
"Wait what? I
thought we finished them all already!"
"Ah.. about that, its not really a commission but instead, clues and information's on spirits I've managed to get a hold of."
"And who did you get it from?"
"Xingqiu, he truly is a good friend, isn't he? With this much research and clues, we'll surely find a good one amongst these papers!" With a small and gentle smile, he sends it towards you. Placing the papers right in front, your eyes scanning through each information given.
'A Blue haired demon destroying a cart of popsicles in Qingce Village?'
"..of course." Ending the topic with a sigh, you took a sip of your water, watching as the sunset slowly get overtaken by the moon and stars. Chongyun did the exact same thing as well, watching as the skies split apart to show the bright moon.
Oh dear, did he managed to catch feelings for you during his travels? He could feel his heart beating.
Touching his face with his hand, he felt the heat slowly becoming more apparent. Sneaking a glance of you near him, his eyes softened.
How would he even confess to you? It was hard confessing without feeling so mushy and awkward, but now, since his Yang energy gotten stronger, it was impossible to even spit the words out at all!
It was in a perfect scenario already! There was barely any customers near, the night sky, with you by his side. It was all set. All he had to do was tell you and everything would be complete!
With a shaky hand, he gripped the glass before sighing. 'Alright, all I have to do is tell them before it's too late!'
Feeling his cheeks heat more than it did before,
He then sputtered out his confession.
"[ y.n ]. There's something important and urgent I need to tell you." Grabbing your attention immediately, you snapped your eyes towards Chongyun. "Yeah? What is it?"
With both of your eyes interlocked with one another, your heartbeats beating in a synchronised beat- you felt like this was a dream. This exact scenario that went through your head before.
His comforting yet sharp eyes staring directly at you with such intense passion, you felt like you could melt at the sight of it. The street lights and lamps that illuminate his face, and the blush plastered across his face was enough for you to replicate the same expression.
"[ y.n ] , uhm.. I.."
"Yeah?"
"Uh, I...."
Oh, well, this wasn't going as planned for him was it?
Nervously gulping, he averted his eyes from you. Watching you stare at him with a blush apparent on your face was enough to make him feel heated up and embarrassed.
Raising his hands, he gripped them together for support. "I..." He spoke, slowly turning his words into incoherent words, mumbling silently to himself before the heat finally got the best of him.
Immediately noticing how red he've gotten, you hastily replied to him to calm down. Grabbing his hand by the action, and gently letting him take hold of the iced drink himself.
But alas, it only worsened as he realized you were holding his hand for a mere second.
"Chongyun!" You yelled out, quickly getting out of your seat before grabbing ahold of him by the arm, the wind blowing in slightly to prevent him from falling over quickly.
Settling him back to his seat in the Wanmin restaurant, you sighed. The blush still visible in your face. The fire behind you cackling as footsteps from another person suddenly is being heard.
Giving your full attention to the entrance, your shoulders tensing up in anticipation, as you waited patiently. The footsteps growing louder and louder, only to be relieved that it was Chef Mao.
"Hey! Didn't know you two were still here, I was about to close up the restaurant." He grinned, walking inside the restaurant as he immediately went tidying up.
"Oh, we were just watching the sunset. I guess we've stayed for too long." You chuckled, Chef Mao could only laugh in return.
"Wayyy too long. Well, you might need to ask for some help if you need to lift a man up." He replied, his words motioning to Chongyun. His back faced to you as he placed the utensils back to their places.
You shook your head in disagreement, despite the fact you knew he couldn't see you. "Nono, it's alright. I think I can bring him to Wangshu Inn with no problem. So, How about I help you clean up, Chef Mao?"
"If you say so, and of course, I couldn't say no to that, even if I wanted to!"
Chongyun awoken with a groan, his hands immediately shielding him from the sun rays that sneakily came through the window binds.
"Huh..? Where am I?" He muttered to himself, eyes blinking twice, before he sat upright. Taking a quick scan around his surroundings, he immediately knew where he was.
"Wangshu Inn. But why am I covered in-" his sentence was cut of by the sight of you sitting down on a chair, your head laying on top of the bed. Your lips curling slightly downwards probably from the dream you're having.
Eyes widening slightly, he took the peaceful image of you in his mind. You looked so graceful sleeping,
despite your messy hair that managed to look quite fluffy to touch. The soft rays of light shining through, your body illuminating softly, giving you such an angelic aura. It almost felt like a dream to him aswell.
With a smile, he patted your hair, running his fingers through your hair. Even if it was tangled. Before placing a small yet gentle kiss on top of your forehead.
He doesn't remember anything that had happened to him during that night, like all the memories have been swiped away from him in a millisecond.
But, he was greatful to have a peaceful morning with you finally in it this time.
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endlich-allein · 3 years
Text
Once again, @iinchicore was very kindly to translate an article for me. This is the interview with Till and Joey in MetalHammer (January 2021). The boys tell about their journey in the Amazon and their future projects together.
A big thank you, lots of kisses and a big hug to @iinchicore ♡
Till Lindemann & Joey Kelly : Friendship Without Limits
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MetalHammer: How did the preparations for this journey differ in comparison to your Yukon trip?
Joey Kelly: We took along different equipment. While riding on the Yukon we used sturdy Canadian kayaks, which we couldn't find in Colombia. So we took along our own foldable 15 kilogramme kayak. Due to the climate, our choice of clothing was also different. Besides, the Amazon is much more dangerous than Alaska. There are many dangerous animals, small and big ones. You can find snakes, crocodiles and piranhas, which is why you shouldn't bathe in the river. You have to move differently on the Amazon than on the Yukon, where you only have to keep your distance to bears and elks. Amazonia is a jungle, where only those animals survive who eat the others.
Your first river journey led you to the Yukon, now you travelled on the Amazon. Was there a reason for why you picked that river exactly?
Till Lindemann: We were considering to travel along the Chinese Yangtze or the Lena in Russia, Siberia. Siberia was my favourite, but Joey convinced me to go to the Amazon. We have both been there before and knew a little about how to prepare and what to expect. One thing we knew right away was that, in regard to the nature and people, South America was much more exciting – Siberia looks similar to Alaska. That wouldn't have been all that interesting for our second book. Now the contrast is much greater: Alaska is austere and glum, the Amazon is the exact opposite with an entirely different wildlife and vegetation. Don't forget the wonderful colours of South America!
Any fascinating experiences of nature?
TL: It is really rare to spot an animal in the jungle. You can hear them everywhere, but they hide or are disguised very well. With the help of the local guides we observed snakes, birds, monkeys and a tapir. We saw pink dolphins and watched them do their jumps on the river. Because of their skin-like colour the locals believe they're incarnations of their dead loved ones and worship them.
How did the locals at the river react towards you?
TL: Reluctant, at first. You go to them and, for example, ask whether you can stay the night. They don't really talk much in the beginning, but after a night with a lot of Cachaca they warm up to you. Usually they were interested in our fishing gear. Most of them had never seen something like it, as they were used to fishing with rolled up strings and nets. I was amazed that every village we visited, no matter how remote the location, owned fridges with cold beer, they even had solar energy. Huge satellite dishes to watch football. For three days we visited one particular village. There was a storm, so they allowed us to stay. There was an older guy who had fallen off his stilt house, drunk, and broke his foot. Two young men went to the neighbouring village, a day's journey away, to get the shaman. The man should have belonged to a hospital, but that was entirely out of the question for him. It either heals on its own or it doesn't. We bandaged his foot and supplied him with pain meds. Then we continued drinking.
Did you plan beforehand what you wanted to see during your journey?
TL: Yes, a coca plantation. We knew that they existed there everywhere. At first, it was a lot of back and forth. They were staving us off, but after a lot of endless waiting and our patient agreeing to it, they allowed us to go. Along with two attendants from the village, we paddled down a branch of the Amazon that became narrower over time. A labyrinth of branches we would have never found our way out of. Eventually, we ended up at one of the countless plantations. It wasn't harvest time, however, so the leaves weren't ripe yet. But you could see all the tools for it: mashers, bags, and hundreds of bowls. And a little storage.
Did you try the coca leaves?
TL: Yes. We were on the plantation. They hid the plants below banana trees, so you couldn't see the plantation from the air. I did try a few coca leaves, but there is no sorcery about it. You just stay awake and feel energized. Everybody is chewing on them there, it's like coffee, just ten times stronger.
Did you reach your physical limits during this journey?
TL: The body adjusts to the climate pretty quickly. After three weeks you don't sweat all that much anymore. Even the sun doesn't bother you as much anymore, because you're thoroughly cooked anyway. But the humidity requires getting used to. The people there are handling it very differently. They own to pairs of shorts, two t-shirts and beach slippers, and they walk around like that all day.
JK: The climate there is exhausting, you're sweat-soaked after only three minutes. Personally, I don't mind it, but to people who aren't used to it it's a pain. The route we went on was quite difficult in parts, it was very serpentine. You had to paddle the whole time, you had to steer, then there were shoals or the water became too flat, so we had to relocate the boat.
You didn't capsize though, like it happened to you on the Yukon?
JK: No, the water level during that season was way too low. Later on, when the water comes in from the Andes during the monsoon season, the level rises by 15 metres. It drowns out entire forests.
TL: I was there once during the monsoon season. Back then only the tree tops were peeking out of the water. That's why they build their houses on stilts, so the water doesn't reach them. Many villages are located on mountain tops, as the water level won't rise that high.
Considering the many preparations and daily challenges, did you ever find time to relax during such an extensive journey?
TL: Travelling on the Yukon wasn't stressful, because we were sleeping on the sandbanks. Those experiences made travelling the Amazon even easier. As the sun goes down very early there, our only concern was to make camp before 6PM. Whenever we found a good location we sometimes made camp even earlier than that, instead of travelling on and risking not finding a good spot. That only happened to us once, so we had to sleep in the jungle, which wasn't all that bad either.
With a camp fire and night watch?
TL: A camp fire, yes, but we didn't need a night watch. You have to trust your guide, those guys know what they're doing. Our guide went ahead a couple of metres with a bit of string and, within a few minutes, came back with six piranhas. Then we turned on the grill and ate. Piranhas are really tasty, like giltheads.
Did you gain more respect for nature due to this journey?
TL: I had a great respect for nature before that already. Still, I couldn't hold myself back from taking pictures with snakes. I love snakes, Joey thinks they're scary. (laughs)
What did you learn along the way?
JK: I asked the Indians to teach me how to fish with a cast-net and pulled animals out of the water, which an aquarist would usually pay thousands of euros for. Scalars, discus fish, loricariids, sisorid catfish, catfish in all shapes and sizes.
Here in Europe we read a lot about the fact that these romantic times might be of the past soon, due to the systematic ecocide. Is that what you saw over there?
TL: When you approach Leticia you can make out the slash-and-burn methods used below. We assume that every minute jungle area the size of 1.5 football fields gets cleared, for soy plantations or pasture areas. The search for gold is also devastating for the nature. They use mercury to wash the gold out of rocks and clay. The mercury ends up in the rivers, in the fish, and then inside the people.
JK: The Amazon traverses through the entire continent. It is so broad and deep, there are even bigger ships cruising the river than on our rivers here in Europe. They carry natural resources, mainly wood. You can find a sawmill every couple of kilometres. They carry the tree trunks there and cut them along the length (4m by 1,20m or even 4m). Those planks then get transported either by ship or overland, a systematic deforestation of the Amazon area.
TL: You find a lot of filth in the main stream: huge tree trunks, garbage, bags full of plastic, and a lot of wood waste. It's illegal, but everybody does it. Very obviously, even during the day, nobody cares.
Are the locals not aware of the drastic situation?
JK: The sawmills pay the farmers 250 to 300 euros for one tree trunk. The sawmills sell it for 2.500 euros, and then here in Europe it costs up to 30.000 euros.
TL: As soon as they saw us, the lumbermen turned off their chainsaws and fled into the forest, yelling: “Piss off!” They were afraid that those pictures would be seen by the world. Same thing for the fisheries. Usually, the fish leave the lagoons during the dry season and swim back into the main stream, because the lakes dry out. The law allows it that they cast a net over half of the lake, so that a part of the fish can swim past. Now, the fishermen close off the entire lake, with up to ten nets. No fish can get past that anymore, only the very small ones. They're overexploiting the area high and low. They even steal all the turtle eggs from the clutches. It didn't used to be that way, back then they would leave half of it where it was.
Do you think that could change, if other types of income would replace the exploitation, like tourism?
JK: I don't think that the parts Till and I went to would be suitable for commercial tourism. Let's be honest, the biggest income is ensured by the coca production. You would travel right into a drug area. We could only move around freely there, because the government was taking care of the cartel conflicts at the time. Apparently, the military is now in charge of the coca trade.
TL: Corruption is the order of business. A policeman is earning less than a coca farmer. Thus, bribery and blackmail are commonplace. Almost all of it is illegal: fishing with the many nets, the gold-seeking, the wood clearing and the coca plantation. The areas are huge and hardly controllable. Since president Bolsonaro is in power in Brazil, the clearing business went up by 30 percent. Bolsonaro announced officially that the Amazon is a product, and that's how the people treat it. They expel the indigenous people and allocate them to surrogate areas, their land goes to the gold-seekers and their prospecting rights. The surrogate areas aren't of any use, however, so they don't live in villages anymore, but in small cities. That'll turn out to be very problematic in the future.
Was it a bizarre experience to you to live with indigenous people, even though it is said that there is no room for the white man?
JK: I've seen tourism in parts of the world where I'd have never expected it. An example would be the South Pole. Once I reached by goal there a plane landed, six tourists came out and paid several thousand dollars for a four to six hour long stay. I thought there was a lot less tourism at the Amazon than anywhere else. The only tourists who travel there are either extremely rich Americans or Russians who come in by helicopter, no matter how expensive the journey. As long as they were there once in their life, took a picture with an Indian and a monkey, then they fly back to Bogotá. All in all, you only meet natives here.
TL: You have to differentiate. There are also motor boats and Americans with sun hats on, sleeping in their loggias. But not in the area we were in. There were children there, who pulled at our pants and ran to our kayaks, because they had never seen anything like it. A canoe made of plastic! They only know boats made out of wood. The kids played with our fishing poles, the angling reels, and were amazed by our lures and wobblers. They had never seen something like that before. They only knew of the hooks, where you put a little meat on. There was a lot of curiosity.
Did the journey affect your friendship at all?
TL: Our friendship didn't get any better or worse, it's been a good friendship before. We want our travels to be periodic. Joey and I want to grant us this sort of time off every two, three years. We realized we're getting better at it. We drove down rapids. While travelling on the Yukon we would have peed our pants, but now we're capable of really daring manoeuvres among waves that are 1.5 metres high. You get well attuned over time, become more experienced with the daily routine, the luggage, moving around.
JK: That was one of the reasons why we planned out the next trip right after our Amazon journey. We paddled down the Rhine in August 2020. We decided to do this during the Corona pandemic, because like that we didn't have to travel through so many countries and still got to tell the entire river's history, which led us through Switzerland, Germany, Liechtenstein, Austria, France and the Netherlands.
Do these travels to the Yukon and Amazon satisfy your wish for solitude?
TL: Like we said, we already travelled along the Rhine. The Nile will be next. The Mekong river is also on our list, but with the goal to start at its origin. These journeys are really important to us. We might have published up to six books some time. We still have a couple of goals ahead of us: The Nile, maybe the Mississippi, one Russian river and the Mekong. Like that we would have visited a river in almost each part of the world.
Which seems to be a difficult goal to achieve, considering the current Corona pandemic...
JK: Sadly so. Because even if Germany will be cleared of the virus, that might not be the case for Tanzania, where the Nile originates, or in Egypt, where it ends. There are five countries in between, after all.
Symbolically, what did you take home from this journey?
TL: Humbleness! And gratefulness for what we have. At the same time, however, a sort of incomprehension for how we live here in Europe. With so much waste, lunacy and luxury. The people we met didn't really have anything. Property and wealth don't mean anything. The huts, the boats, tools, even the TV, it all belongs to everyone. You eat and drink together, and most of the work is done as a community. They say people are happier there. I won't be the judge as to whether that's true, but life there is simpler, more manageable, and thus people there live more modestly. In Germany people get up in the morning, rush to the office, are stuck in traffic, sit at the computer all day or manage machines, rush back home in the evening. In comparison, it's very relaxed at the Amazon. The people go to bed early, when they wake up they go fishing, hunt or raise manioc and corn. Life there is structured in a very simple way, it's been reduced to only the bare necessities.
What is the first image you see when you think of Amazonia?
JK: Looking back, I'm always thinking of this one boat ride very early in the morning. It was still foggy when we started paddling. To the left of us I can still barely see riverside, apart from that only fog, I can only see for two, three metres. We are on the Amazon without knowing what's ahead of us. It's quiet, there is no wind, the water is calm... That was a great experience.
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crewman-penelope · 3 years
Text
Old Debts
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Fandom: James Bond / Rami Malek
Chapters : 19 of 21
Characters : Lyutsifer Safin, Tatjana Safin ofc, Luc Dupont omc, Marie Dupont ofc, James Bond, Moneypenny, Q, M, Felix Leiter, William Tanner, Blackmarket tycoon Yuri omc, Secretary of state for defence Ben Wallance
Relationship : Lyutsifer Safin / OFC Character, James Bond / Eve Moneypenny
Warning : Lemon🍋, crime, terrorism, espionage, double cross, dub-con, death scenario💀, racism, politic drama, apartheid subject, torture🔪
Rating : MA
Gene: Crime / Drama / Terrorism
Summary : New terror cells got their hands on Safin's weapon via the russian blackmarket, and neither Safin nor Bond are pleased. Not to speak of the FBI, the CIA and the MI6.
Note : non of the characters belong to me, nor did I get any money from it. This fanfiction is written for entertaining purpose only.
19. His quantum of solace 💀
06:00 Bond woke up. He stretched and bump his head on the wall, a reminder that he was on a ship, laying in a short bunk. Grunting he rubbed the back of his head and took a deep breath.
An arm under the small cushion he thought about the situation yesterday.
The Antipode was still making her rounds, waiting for more 'items' breaking the water surface.
Thus far they collected different pieces of the submarine hull, parts of engine, lots of food and - - bodies.
Bond pressed his thumb and middle finger on his eyelids and rubbed them. He would never forget the scene yesterday.
The marines, angling after them.
The moment, as he stood there and watched as they got the body of Safin on board.
His typical clothes, the marine blue coat, heavy boots, but the eyes open, white and blind.
None of the crew made a comment about Safin's face, non cheered. It was the body of a drowned sailor they had fished up. That could have been one of them.
The really heartbreaking moment was as the captain had sent for Tatjana.
Bond had watched her, circling the body of her husband, wet and cold laying on the planks of the ship.
How empty her face was.
As she kneeled and took his hand in hers, kissing the knuckles, he had to look away. Staring in the blue sky he heard nevertheless her wailing.
'Stop being so sentiment.', Bond warned himself with a knot in his throat.
The world had lost a threat. Tatjana was free. 'The boys will be growing up without a father', his brain reminded him.
"Fuck that!", Bond spoke loud in the room, as the cabin door opened.
"And a good morning to you, brother." Felix grinned. He had noticed Bond's words. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Why, Felix?! Why are you so bloody joyful so early in the morning?"
Felix entered the cabin fully and closed the door. Walking closer, he rested his arms at the bunk rim and smiled like a Cheshire cat.
"Firstly, the coffee in the cantina is great. Not to speak of the breakfast.", he jested. "Secondly, if you could 'finally' get your arse out of the bunk and had your coffee, we have to talk to Tatjana."
Bond narrowed his eyes and braced himself on his elbow to focus on Felix's sorrowful expression.
"I have two questions.", Bond started, in mood for a tease. "Why didn't you bring me a mug of this magical drink to my bunk-" Felix laughed loud out by that, "and.. couldn't that wait? Giving her a bit of peace?"
Felix stepped back and shook his head. "The FBI is on its way. Pissed that one of their agents here in the brig. Captain Ulysses made a report.."
Bond groaned and slipped out of the bunk. "Let me guess. They want to arrest her?"
"For someone who had not yet his first coffee you are on the ball."
*
The HAYTNMYC II laid on the ground of an underwater plateau like a grey, huge elephant, wounded, but still with the will to life.
The engine was set on hold and the chemical oxygen generator wasn't running. Absolute silence laid inside the boat, the rooms pitch black, beside the little lamps around the measuring devices and the echo console.
All men were laid to rest with order to sleep, to spare oxygen.
Safin sat in his chair in the COM room, his eyes closed, his arms crossed around his chest. He was halfway slumbering in the darkness, but in the back of his head he ran through the past hours.
Was there something he could have predicted? Some better way to fulfil his plans? Did he come to a deadlock in his revenge? He could have done better. But he understood now, why he couldn't succeed in his plans.
Bond.
He had underestimated him. He and his friend Leiter. Safin was still curious about the FBI though. What their part was to play.
He sighed to open his eyes and searched for the fine light of the echo console. He looked at it, until he faintly could make out the shadow of the operator, sitting there. Listening.
"And?", he asked lowly.
"Still making their rounds.", the operator whispered.
Safin nodded to himself and leaned back again, gazing with open eyes in the darkness.
The navy were probably still fishing wreck parts out of the ocean Luc had shoot up on the waterline, simulating a hull break. Safin wondered if this little scheme had worked out. And if Tatjana had understood the message.
"Luc?", he whispered in the dark room, and he got at once an answer from Luc's voice, left button in the room.
"Six.", his right hand answered at short as possible.
'Six hours of oxygen left.', Safin understood.
"Sleep.", he ordered with soft voice. He reminded himself that he wasn't the only one who had let go a loved one.
Here, in the darkness, tons of water pressure on the boat shell, the air stuffed and not knowing if his men and he will ever see sunlight again, he smiled. It mattered not that he could die. At least he would die with his men. On his ship.
'The woman are safe. My son's life spared.' That was the quantum of solace to him.
Taglist: @dorminchu @poptod @thefluffiestseahorse @rathernotmyname @edteche2
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niquoroyal · 5 years
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