love/hate songs

Since 8tracks is messed up and playmoss is gonna disappear and Spotify doesn't have many songs, I’m posting some of my playlists here. This is a list of songs about love/hate relationships for pairings. Enemies to lovers, tsundere personalities, hero/villain couplings, opposites attract, loving someone you know you shouldn't. This list is several years old so the songs are older and kinda ‘scene.’

Major trigger warnings for the lyrics of these songs. Some songs have violent lyrics. This playlist romanticizes conflict.

Song list under read more:

Love to Hate You - Erasure Nicotine - Panic! at the Disco Don't Let It Go To Your Head - Fefe Dobson Your Love Will Kill Me - Daniel Lavoie Bruises and Bitemarks (Remix) - Good With Grenades October & April - The Rasmus feat. Anette Olzon Violator - Son of Rust Sick Amore - El Creepo Disgusting - Ke$ha Dangerous - Depeche Mode Oleander - Mother Mother Fear & Delight - The Correspondents Love is a Suicide - Natalia Kills Sex as a Weapon - Pat Benatar I'd Love To Kill You - Katie Melua Before I Ever Met You - Banks Rent - Pet Shop Boys Helpless When She Smiles - Backstreet Boys Holy - Zolita Strangelove - Depeche Mode I Won't Say (I'm In Love) - Susan Egan Can't Feel My Face - The Weeknd Only You - Ellie Goulding Devil Devil - Milck Livin' In A World Without You - The Rasmus  

Hate Love - Adelitas Way Suddenly - Peter Heppner Sick and Twisted Affair - My Darkest Days Radioactive Mirrors - Amazinglyjon Dangerous - Cascada Violence (Club Mix) - Grimes & i_o This Is Love - Air Traffic Controller Make Hate To Me - Citizen Soldier Gently Break It - Beck Pete Portrait of a Female - Cruel Youth This Could Be Love - Alkaline Trio Lie, Lie, Lie - Myra You Give Love a Bad Name - Bon Jovi I Only Wanna Be With You - Volbeat Maybe You're Not the Worst Thing Ever - Cast of Galavant I've Got You Under My Skin - Seether Human - Oh Land Le Bien Qui Fait Mal - Mozart, L'Opera Rock Can't Help Falling In Love [Light x Dark Remix] - feat. Brooke Tommee Profitt Fell For You - Green Day Stupid Grin - Dragonette Broken - Lauren Hoffman Take Me to Church - Hozier Super Psycho Love - Simon Curtis Whip - Mr.Kitty   Get You Off - Fefe Dobson Crazy Girl - Ke$ha Vice - POP ETC Cannibal - Silversun Pickups Rest in Peace - Original Cast of Buffy The Vampire Slayer Hem of Your Garment - Cake Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge Truth Or Dare - Marianas Trench We Sink - CHVRCHES Gingerbread Man - Melanie Martinez You Stupid Girl - Framing Hanley   Die For You - Red F*cking Boyfriend - The Bird & The Bee Mean - Nicole Dollanganger Must Be Crazy for Me - Melissa Etheridge That Girl - Alexz Johnson FMLYHM - Seether Bad Romance - Halestorm Aquarius - Within Temptation Flirt (With Me) - Zeromancer I'm With Stupid - Pet Shop Boys Stop This Song (Love Sick Melody) - Paramore Trying Not To Love You - Nickelback Kill for You - Zolita A Love Like War - All Time Low You Need Me - SWANS Hatef--k - The Bravery Bottled Affection - Cold War Kids True Love - ThouShaltNot Terrible Thing - Ag I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters Exit Wounds - The Romanovs Gun - Chvrches Every Breath You Take - Chase Holfelder Whole Lotta Love - Smash Mouth Bloodsport - Sneaker Pimps XXX - Imran-C Bitter Rivals - Sleigh Bells Destruction Of Us - Mr.Kitty Teeth - 5 Seconds of Summer Love Me Dead - Ludo Paralyzed - The Used River - Bishop Briggs Neon - VERSA Sucker For Pain - Lil Wayne, Wiz Khalifa & Imagine Dragons I'm Your Villain - Franz Ferdinand Beautiful Monster - Ne-Yo I Own You - Birgit Let Me Be Your Armor - ASSEMBLAGE 23 Perfect Enemy - t.A.T.u. Straight for the Knife - Sia One More Night - Maroon 5 I Hate You (Don't Leave Me) - Ke$ha The Moth - Aimee Mann Mad Love - The Veronicas Toxic (Acoustic Britney Spears Cover) - Johnny Goth Bad Intentions - Digital Daggers Shut Up - Nick Lachey Soldier - Bitter Ruin First Bad Habit - Vanessa Hudgens In The Darkness - Dead By Sunrise Tearin' Up My Heart - *NSYNC You'll Be Back - Original Broadway Cast of Hamilton & Jonathan Groff Crazy In A Good Way - VERIDIA Combat Baby - Metric In Bluebeard's Castle - Unwoman When Doves Cry - Prince State of Seduction - Digital Daggers Whataya Want From Me - Adam Lambert Broken Inside - Broken Iris Murder (feat. Minx, Chilled) - Boyinaband Why Do You Love Me - Charlotte Lawrence Follow You Home - Nickelback Love To See You Cry - Enrique Iglesias Impressed - Natalie Imbruglia Die For You - Megan McCauley Your Kind (Speak to Me) - Danger Radio Tyrant - The Bravery Violent Games - Polica Toxicated Love - NEO Nemeses (feat. John Roderick) - Jonathan Coulton Miserable - Lit Running From My Shadow - The Velvet Teaparty Barricade - Stars Trouble (Stripped) - Halsey Brutal Hearts - Bedouin Soundclash Desire - Meg Myers Sticks And Stones - The Pierces Just the Girl - The Click Five Himerus and Eros - The Spill Canvas Blood - In This Moment I'm Insane - Myah Marie Fiction (Dreams In Digital) - Orgy Whore - In This Moment Monster - Ryan Adames Foundations - Kate Nash Only When I Lose Myself - Depeche Mode Hatchet - Archive The Beginning of the Twist - The Futureheads Change - Deftones Trust Me - Marc Senter Love Me Hate Kiss Me Kill Me (Scndl Remix) - Fukkk Offf Big Bad Handsome Man - Imelda May The Mighty Fall - Fall Out Boy My Obsession - Cinema Bizarre Stitches - Orgy Miss Kiss Kiss Bang - Alex Swings Oscar Sings! Sweet Dreams - Beyonce Fuel To The Fire - The Maine Closer (Nine Inch Nails Cover) - Niki Barr Band Clueless - Orla Gartland Devil Woman - Cliff Richard Hatefuck - Motionless In White I Love You But I Don’t Like You - Molly Moore Overpower Thee - AUF dER MAUR Get Down On Your Knees And Tell Me You Love Me - All Time Low Post Blue - Placebo Genghis Khan - Miike Snow Poison - Alice Cooper I Know I'm A Wolf - Young Heretics Little Toy Gun - honeyhoney I Miss the Misery - Halestorm Dirty Sticky Floors (radio mix) - Dave Gahan Clarity - Zedd I Get A Kick Out Of You - Frank Sinatra I Hate Myself for Loving You - Joan Jett and the Blackhearts Die for You - Otherwise Labyrinth - Oomph! Black Black Heart - David Usher I Want to Destroy Something Beautiful - Josh Woodward I'm a Priest - Daniel Lavoie You Need Me - SWANS Afraid of the Dark - Phildel Virus - Ryan Adames I Wanna Be Your Dog (remix) - Emilie Simon Hello Goodbye - The Beatles Sarcasm (Album Version) - Get Scared Use Me - Hinder Poison & Wine - The Civil Wars Pretty When You Cry - VAST Tainted Love - Soft Cell Scream - Avenged Sevenfold Think About It - Danger Radio Gallery Piece - Of Montreal Bang Bang Bang Bang - Sohodolls Little Girls - Say Anything I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace Love Runs Out - OneRepublic Disarm - Smashing Pumpkins Hit Me Like a Man - The Pretty Reckless Bang Bang (feat. Adam Levine) - K'naan Hurts So Good - John Mellencamp Addicted - Kelly Clarkson Whiplash - FEMM Paralyzer - Finger Eleven Crime - Temposhark Misery Loves Company - Emilie Autumn It Was Good for You Too - Marian Call Price Of Company - The White Tie Affair Burn! - Kobra And The Lotus I Love My Lawyer - Ofelia K I Want Blood - empires (I Always Kill) The Things I Love (ft. The Real Tuesday Weld) - Claudia Brucken Misery (Cutmore Radio) - Maroon 5 Fire and Ice - Pat Benatar I Lust You - Neon Neon Pistol Whipped - Marilyn Manson Bitches Brew - Crosses A Formidable Marinade - Mikelangelo And The Black Sea Gentlemen Control - Puddle of Mudd Scary Love - Skye Sweetnam Loveyouhateyou - Sad Robot Untangle Me - Snow Ghosts A Little Taste - Skyler Stonestreet E.V.O.L - Marina and the Diamonds   (You're the) Devil in Disguise - Elvis Presley Shut Up & Kiss - Me Orianthi Cool for Chaos - Nostalghia Oyeme - Enrique Iglesias I Hate You - Sick Puppies GirlShapedLoveDrug - Gomez You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk - Pet Shop Boys Need You Like A Drug - Zeromancer Werewolf - Cat Power Bathwater - No Doubt Bad Dog - Neon Hitch Guns And Horses - Ellie Goulding Rev 22-20 - Puscifer Won't You Please Be Nice - Nellie McKay The Perfect Drug - Nine Inch Nails Until The Day I Die - Story of the Year Womanizer - Britney Spears Build Me Up Buttercup - The Foundations I Think I Love You David Cassidy Stalkers - Mindless Self Indulgence   Kill Me Every Time - Blue Stahli Preface - FKA twigs Every You Every Me - Placebo Want - Disturbed Spit It Out - IAMX Destroy Me - Mr Kitty My Sweet Prince - Placebo Psycho - Imelda May Monster - Meg Myers Figured You Out - Nickelback Suffocated Love - Tricky Satisfy Me One More Time - Frank Sinatra This Love - Maroon 5 Miss Jackson (feat. Lolo) - Panic! At The Disco Fire and Ice - Pat Benatar Every Other Time Lyte - Funky Ones How Do You Love Someone - Ashley Tisdale Poison - Gin Wigmore Bitter and Sick - One Two The Outsider - Marina & the Diamonds True Love (feat Lily Rose Cooper) - Pink Bad Boy - Cascada Irresistible - Temposhark Painkiller - The Queenstons Born to Die / Russian Roulette - Amazinglyjon Like Sugar - Matchbox Twenty Mad About You - Hooverphonic Stupify - Disturbed Problems - Mother Mother What Is Love - Haddaway Animal - The Cab Marionette - Antonia I Hate You But I Love You - Russian Red Carve A Name - Mother Mother Criminal - Britney Spears Danger - Hilary Duff Fell in Love w/an Android - Simon Curtis Demon Lover - Róisín Murphy Always - Saliva Too Close - Alex Clare Little of Your Time - Maroon 5 Sex and Violence - Scissor Sisters Electric Storm - Delta Goodrem Black widow - Susanne Sundfør Dangerous Kind - Rasmus You've Really Got a Hold on Me - The Miracles Over and Over - Three Days Grace Devour - Marilyn Manson Nature of Inviting - IAMX The Odd Couple - Weezer Hurt Me Harder - Zolita Terrible Love - The National Mad Love - Jojo Boomerang - Reliant K Bad News - Sleeper Agent I Was An Island (EP Version) - Allison Weiss Rock Bottom - Hailee Steinfeld You’re the One That I Want - Lo Fang Poison - Rita Ora Kill For You - Skylar Grey ft Eminem Wouldn't Be Love - Ritual Hate Me - Nico Collins Irresistible - Fall Out Boy I Love You... I'll Kill You - Enigma

The Dread Lands of Ravenloft - Mod Van Richten’s New England In-Table Campaign [Session 6]

Session Highlights

Did you know that this is technically the party’s third official combat? We’re a pretty role-play heavy group.

They’ve angered six very hungry vampire spawn last time! During the lead-up to this session, my players were so scared of TPK. But, spoiler alert, I’m not that cruel. I planned this out to a T!

Side Note: Any art that I share of NPCs within these highlight posts is my (Mod Van Richten’s) original and fan art. Any art that I use for my players that wasn’t created by myself but by other artists is kept private and within our friend circle.

Abrascus Barbarian (4) Path of the Ancestral Guardian Race: Tortle Background: Haunted One

Direthorn Rogue (4) Swashbuckler Race: Drow Background: Urchin

Flopsy Barbarian (4) Path of Wild Magic Race: Rabbit Man Background: Experiment

Mangus Monk (4) Way of the Open Hand Race: Half Elf Background: Urchin

Neracahne Wizard (4) School of Evocation Race: Eladrin Background: Noble

Nyra Rogue (4) Phantom Race: Fairy Background: Noble

CW: decapitation, sensual themes, gender dysphoria

Let’s see how the battle went under the cut!

I made a grave error when writing session 5's recap. I missed a lot of details! Good thing my players don't read these bc they would laugh at me for missing this!

Nyra made two discoveries during the day. While inside the Blue Water Inn, she notices something while Ismark is flirting with Rudy. There's a spirit hovering near the half elf. He looks like a young human boy, and he seems slightly surprised when Nyra suddenly tries to talk to him aloud. After the spirit fades, she hears a voice telepathically:

"I wonder if she can't hear me either."

At the dinner, Nyra can't help but notice the same phenomena again. Instead, she sees multiple tortured spirits around the dinner table and throughout the mansion. It appears that they're all in agony.

The session begins back on Direthorn, who was away from the other adventurers most of the day. They’ve been trying to scavenge for where they can find more pie, without realizing that Flopsy still had pie left despite not being addicted anymore. They’ve gone through garbage cans and different alleyways in vain, scaring townspeople all the while with feral noises.

They’d been so caught up in trying to find pie that they’d completely forgotten about the Baron’s dinner. The only thing that snaps them out of it is Vasili, who catches them scavenging through garbage in the noble district. He snaps them out of it by asking where their friends are. They have no idea, for they weren’t with all of them when they went to the coffin shop earlier that day. Shortly after the conversation starts, however, Adelaide rushes out of the manor and comes up to Vasili to exclaim her worries. She was worried about Escher, but she was also able to tell Vasili and Direthorn where they were. With that, they head straight to the shop.

By the time that the official combat begins, Direthorn, Vasili, and Adelaide are at the entrance. Here are some very notable highlights:

(A/N: Nyra’s player wasn’t able to play for the encounter, but she allowed me to use Nyra’s stats to run her on autopilot during the fight. Unfortunately, I had shit dice rolls)

We had two critical hits: One from Mangus and the other from Abrascus.

Vasili was able to very quickly join the fight, and he had a very powerful rapier. Its blade was pure black, and a lot of its damage was necrotic.

This is the first time that Adelaide shows off her spellcasting to her new friends, but unfortunately it’s not as effective as she’d want it to be.

Izek and four guards arrive at the scene a couple rounds into the fight to help.

Mangus got the first kill of the fight.

Flopsy dealt the most damage in the fight.

Direthorn spent most of the fight antagonizing one vampire spawn in the back corner of the shop. They have spiderclimbing ability and were able to climb up to the window right above the door. Afterwards, they proceeded to mess with this one spawn until it got bored of them (aka: Izek hit them with his hurl flame ability)

We had four critical failures:

Vasili accidentally stabbed Flopsy with his ridiculously powerful rapier.

Mangus lost his quarterstaff by throwing it across the room.

Nyra accidentally pierced Neracahne with one of her arrows.

Abrascus accidentally strikes Adelaide with his greataxe, which leads to major consequences.

After Abrascus hits Adelaide with his greataxe, she looks so angry as she tries to cast a spell on him with little success. However, Escher also saw what happened, and he then cast the same spell on Abrascus, which did success. Abrascus ended up going unconscious because of seeing horrific images.

After the fight was over, Henrik was under arrest. Henrik was terrified and constantly tried to say that he was innocent and was framed. Izek did let the party briefly talk to him, but that ended up being inconclusive. Henrik said he couldn’t say the name of the person that made him do it. Aloud, Flopsy simply said, “It was daddy,” which made everyone very uncomfortable. Again. Henrik was crying out that he was innocent as he was being dragged out of the shop. Vasili left shortly after.

Because the investigation was a success, the adventurers are all considered “guests of honor” during the Festival of the Blazing Sun. What this means for them is that food expenses are all paid for during the festival, and they’re allowed to spend the festival with the baron at his table whenever they wish to.

Ismark arrived with Rudy during the aftermath. One of the vampire spawn was burnt to a crisp by Izek, and Rudy proceeded to decapitate the body. After this, Rudy looked at everyone in confusion, claiming that they needed to decapitate the corpses and then burn the bodies in order for them to die. Flopsy looked confused and told him about how he killed Doru. Even though Doru’s head was bashed in, Rudy tells Flopsy that because he wasn’t decapitated, then he’s technically still active and can eventually regenerate from that.

Rudy is dumbfounded by the party’s lack of knowledge, until he realizes that they’re not really from here. He explains to them that because Barovia is run by a vampire, then vampires that live here are stronger than vampires that would typically be found in the Material Plane. So, it takes more effort to kill them. However, after seeing that Flopsy has Van Richten’s Guide to Vampires, he seems really disappointed that he doesn’t know more about vampires. That is, until he’s given the book and sees that many pages on how to kill vampires are missing. Flopsy tells him that he’d gotten the book like this from Vasili.

When Abrascus wakes up, he’s suffering from an effect of longterm madness, experiencing tremors and feeling shaken up. Rudy quickly takes care of it before it gets too out of hand, and he and Ismark work together to heal the adventurers. When Rudy does this, he holds onto his pan flute while Ismark plays his balalaika to cast his healing spells.

More Content Warnings: Misgendering, trans pregnancy mentioned

Before resting…

Abrascus ended up staying behind at the coffin shop to sleep in one of the coffins. Rudy took exception to this, and he told Flopsy to place a holy symbol on top of the coffin. Just in case. Ismark stays the night with Rudy when they all part ways.

When the rest of the adventurers return to the manor, Flopsy goes inside and can hear Adelaide crying while Escher is tending to the wound caused by Abrascus’ greataxe. She’s devastated that someone she thought was her friend would hurt her like that. Escher tries to assure that things like that happen sometimes, but he will do anything to defend her. Adelaide then asks him, “Is Father going to do something to him?” His answer to her is to not worry about that, for that’s his business.

Flopsy soon makes his presence known, or rather, Escher begins to notice him. He stops talking with Adelaide, and she decides to go see what the girls are up to at the guest house. This leaves Flopsy to continue the conversation he had with Escher earlier that day.

Flopsy insists that Escher needs to tell him who his host was so that he could become a vampire too. Escher refuses to give the name, for it’s too dangerous, but Flopsy can conclude that Strahd is Escher’s host. To challenge that, Flopsy asks, “What if I ask her other dad?” That makes Escher go from deflective to immediate defensive, now that he knows how much Flopsy heard. It’s then that he tells Flopsy that Adelaide having two fathers was supposed to be kept a secret. Escher is transgender, and he left his old life to escape a forced marriage. How that led to him being in Barovia and being one of Strahd’s consorts is unknown.

Escher makes a promise to Flopsy. If he were to tell anyone that Escher was a vampire and that Adelaide is a dhampir, he would know that it was Flopsy that did it. Essentially, he was going to kill him if he told.

Direthorn, Nyra, and Neracahne all go back to the guest house when everything was cleaned up. Some time later is when Adelaide comes over to see them for comfort. They all decide to have a girls’ night where they drink wine and get to know each other. Adelaide quickly starts getting tipsy, and Neracahne and Direthorn immediately pounce on that as a way to get information out of her. They ask her about her papa, and she tells them that he had raised her mostly on his own and that she’s her favorite person. They then ask about her mom. She seems confused, and after some explaining, she tells them, “I don’t have a mom.” They ask if she’s adopted, but that also needs to be explained to her. She says no, and then she explains how Escher came out to her when she was a child.

Even though Escher had said that her body is similar to hers, that doesn’t change the fact that he is a man. Even if he gave birth to her, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s her father. She’s very adamant about that, but she’s relieved that Neracahne and Direthorn respect that. The conversation gets a little more personal when they start asking about who her other dad is. They’d noticed that when she laughed, Adelaide had fangs. She gets scared when trying to explain herself, and it eventually comes out that her other father is Strahd.

When Escher came to Barovia, he was with his party of adventurers in Vallaki. The way that Adelaide described their union was that it was… not exactly a conventional one. But in the end, they’d “married,” but before Escher could be turned, they found out that he was pregnant with Adelaide. They had to wait until after she was born, or else risk her dying in the process. Escher had almost died when she was born, but Adelaide perceives that her papa turning into a vampire saved him. She also tells them that although Strahd hasn’t really been in her life during her childhood, she knows that he cares about her.

She begs them not to tell and makes them promise. Even though they promised her that they wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, Adelaide knows that people will kill her if they find out. They will also kill Escher, and even though it seems like she knows a lot of people hate Strahd, she doesn’t want him to get killed, either. She soon relaxes once she’s reassured, and they’re all able to open up about their personal lives and experiences.

Direthorn talks about being orphaned and running away from the orphanage at thirteen. They’d been alone for the longest time, after they’d lost their best friend. That makes Adelaide feel a little sad as she expresses her sympathy. Neracahne then talks about how she ran away from an arranged marriage. As she’s explaining her story, Adelaide perks up. She exclaims, “That sounds a lot like my papa!”

She then tells Escher’s story to them, or at least, what she knows of it. Escher was a student at a wizarding school before he came out, and he excelled in his studies. Something happened, however, that made him earn his teachers’ ire. He had crafted his very own spell, which was the spell demonstrated at the coffin shop against Abrascus. In response, the teachers lambasted him and told him to stick to his studies. Escher was angered by this and felt like he was being held back.

That story felt so familiar to Neracahne. She’s heard something similar to this in the past.

Adelaide continues the story. After Escher dropped out of school and took up apprenticeship with a necromancer, he started his transition. It was shortly after this that Escher was forced into a marriage. She didn’t quite remember the name of his husband. “...Reginald?” It was their wedding night that Escher used his spell against someone for the very first time. After his husband was knocked unconscious, Escher escaped and became an adventurer.

Now this was too familiar to Neracahne. It’s then that she remembers a story that she overheard when walking through town one day. That person’s name wasn’t Reginald. It was Roland, who was a middle-aged elf that was a well-respected noble. He’d just stepped out of a chapel holding his head. Different people asked what happened to him, and he started talking about his wedding that was roughly a week earlier. He took a young wife and thought that the union was a success. But then, “that crazy bitch stabbed me in the shoulder,” and she then had cast a spell on him that made him go crazy. She then disappeared without a trace.

It’s then that recognition spread across Neracahne’s face. She realizes in that moment that her old friend is Escher.

After the revelation, the night between the girls continues as normal until they all fall asleep together.

There’s one unfortunate problem that night. Mangus was left alone to wander. He didn’t know where to meet everyone, so he ended up in the dark manor while everyone else was at the guest house. Not a single light was on inside the manor, except for in the closed off study. He checks the door and sees that it’s locked, annoyed that he didn’t have any thieves’ tools on him to try and break in. He doesn’t dwell on that thought for long. When he realizes that whoever’s in there is coming out, he hurries to hide so that he’s not noticed.

From his hiding spot, he can hear Vasili walking out of the study, lightly beating something against his hand. He didn’t see what it was, but it was something with a bit of weight to it. Mangus then hears Vasili go back into the room and douse the fire before leaving it with the door locked shut behind him. In the pitch black manor, Mangus hears Vasili walk up the stairs. Mangus tries to go back towards the study to check the door, but in the process, he hears Vasili call, “I know you’re down there.”

Vasili then walks down the stairs in the pitch black manor, appearing to navigate fine despite being a human. Mangus is a little perplexed and tells him that he was trying to find the others, to which Vasili laughs and tells him that he’s in the completely wrong build. But Vasili does offer to take him back to the guest house.

On the way there, Vasili engages in small talk with Mangus in the dark. He asks about Adelaide, but Mangus can’t seem to get his words out. During his fumbling, Vasili asks Mangus to look at him. It’s here that suddenly Mangus finds himself to be charmed. He sees Vasili as a trusted friend to be protected. He can tell him anything, so he does. He’s able to get his words out that he’s interested in Adelaide in a romantic sense, but he’s still trying to process his feelings. It’s what Vasili says that causes the air around them to still.

“You better be careful with that. You do not want to get on Escher’s bad side. Or mine.”

It’s then that Mangus let’s Vasili bite him, revealing himself to be a vampire. After a considerable amount of damage, he says this to Mangus:

“You will not speak of what happened here, you will not tell anyone I spoke with you, and, if I can help it, you will not remember what happened here.”

Flopsy soon comes to the door to the guest house after they’re done, and Vasili briefly engages in pleasantries before going back to the manor. Flopsy drags Mangus into bed to sleep, and from the other room it sounds a little bit awkward. But the session ends there, as the adventurers take their rest.

2020/ Chain of Fools

2020 was the year I adopted a boiler suit and gas mask as a daily uniform. The world had gone into a global lockdown to combat the COVID19 virus which meant we were only allowed to leave our house for essential reasons such as grocery shopping and exercise. When outside, we were government mandated to wear face masks to prevent the spread of the disease. They made me feel like a muzzled dog and I resented no longer being able to smile with strangers on the street. Feeling like a prisoner in his own home and under extreme stress from job insecurity, my boyfriend Jake’s amphetamine addiction began to spiral out of control.

As a result of Jake’s addiction, we had accidentally befriended a posse of drug dealers and prostitutes- bonded by our love of having a good time and a general disregard for consequence. We met Dani through a call girl friend of mine who had realised the difficulty of making a living through writing online fashion content. Dani had big brown eyes, fat, botoxed lips and dressed only in high end labels like Gucci and Balmain. Born into a wealthy family, she had acquired a taste for expensive things but lacked the work ethic to maintain this taste without selling her body for sex. Dani began to visit more throughout the lockdown to deliver Jake drugs, hidden in a bag of a groceries. One night, she played Carole King on our old vinyl player, while Jake rolled us a joint to share. I flirted with them both, knowing that it would lead to a threesome. We smoked Jake’s joint, snorted lines of cocaine off each other and then took turns going down on each other.

A week later, Dani introduced us to a crew of “script kiddies”- long haired, internet hackers with a love of mumble rap, cryptocurrency and ketamine. I made cocktails for everyone and established that one of these kids shared a mutual friend with Jake. They seemed fascinated by the genuine sexual chemistry between myself, Jake and Dani and expressed gratitude for our generous hospitality. Eventually I came to the conclusion that by associating us with this crowd, Dani had managed to successfully pray on the vulnerable- trusting junkies like us who were lax with internet security and keen for a good time. In retrospect, I wish I had known that Dani was a hustler at heart- making money in any way she could without considering the impact of her choices. At the time however, I felt like we were fully living life in the moment- something I was certain would bring me happiness, meaning and didn’t question her motives for a moment.

Ella, Dani’s best friend, had a boyish pixie cut, high cheekbones and was tall and slim. She had gradually joined in on our shenanigans, along with Mark, a dealer with a steady supply of the best gear available north of the river. We all hung out together in our plant-filled, converted warehouse listening to electronic music and sharing stories about our favourite mind-altering substances. My stories were consistently focused on MDMA. As a notoriously private person, I’d discovered MDMA helped me open up and allowed me to dance, free of fear of judgement. It had also helped Jake open up about the sexual abuse he experienced as child, a fact I doubted would have ever come up without the influence of a truth serum and something which I was certain had driven him to substance abuse in the first place.

While we laughed, chatted and danced with Dani and Mark, Ella, who claimed to be a part time poet and part-time model, entered a viral script virus onto our wireless network by requesting our wifi password. Something we provided willingly, without second thought. This meant remote access to every digital device we owned and access to all stored personal information including scanned copies of our passports and birth certificates.

The issue with Mark, despite his criminal lifestyle, was that he was excellent company. Intelligent, engaging and a DJ in his spare time- we thrived off his love of hip hop and old-school funk. Similarly, he thrived off our property location in the Inner North- close to his regular customers and discrete enough from the prying eyes of authority. We welcomed him into our home with open arms, deprived of social contact through social distancing practices enforced by the pandemic. We held COVID19 illegal gatherings where we got high off Mark’s supply, enjoyed each other’s company while Ella hacked our electronic identities. When you’re lonely, it doesn’t really matter if others are using you and you’re using them. As long as everyone is filling a clearly defined role, the maladaptive social ecosystem continues to function.

It’s unclear exactly how many international drug smuggling routes were established using our stolen online identities before Jake clued on that something wasn’t right. He told me that he had been locked out of his email account, that the speed of his phone had slowed and that he could hear clicking noises during his phone calls. He was certain that his was a breach of online security and started to question the motives of our new friends. I wrote him off as crazy, blaming his excessive use of amphetamines and the psychological effect of social isolation. I was determined to keep my online identity public, obsessed by the idea of becoming the next millennial therapist and too blinded by Dani’s beauty to believe that she would want to harm us in any way.

Eventually Jake’s distress became too extreme to ignore and he shook me violently one night, yelling at me to believe what I had assumed was a paranoid conspiracy theory. A sinking feeling in my gut became apparent when he started to coherently piece together his concerns about his online security issues. I realized that my sense of reality had been clouded by my lust for Dani and by a dark depression that had developed through my work as an essential worker during a pandemic. Based on Jake’s erratic behaviour, I knew we had to get out of the warehouse immediately, but I had no idea where to go and was fearful of drawing attention to any law-breaking activity when police presence was so prominent.

We agreed to seek refuge with our friends Trish and Rick, former 90s British ravers who had channeled their drug-fuelled benders into successful and respectable careers. I called them panicked that night, shaking and rambling about what had happened. Without hesitancy, Trish told us to come over right away. Rick’s brother back in the UK had recently killed himself and they were struggling too. Trish and Rick lived in an affluent area in the inner East which meant we needed to blend in quickly through a disguise of expensive athleisure and an almost painful sense of normality. It appeared that our efforts at disguise were successful and it seemed to result in freedom from any unusual online activity on our devices. We bought new phones, changed our phone numbers, email addresses and disconnected from the outside world for an entire week. We spoke about going to the police, however we both agreed that this would place us at too much risk to the criminal world to be a viable option.

When your online identity is stolen, you quickly start to daydream what it would be like to steal someone else’s identity. For example, what exactly would you do with those proceeds of crime? Which tropical island would you escape to, what designer clothes would you wear, which car would you drive? I quickly became entranced and jealous at the thought of this fantasy life, but then spent time reflecting on my own morality and these feelings subsided. Instead, an intense anger developed at the thought of others taking advantage of Jake and his mental illness. High on a sense of ethical superiority and new found fury, I decided to employ my favourite psychological defense mechanism, repression, to cope with my latest traumas. May you rest in peace, memory, I said to myself before engaging in my daily mediation ritual.

While repressing my consciousness, I also began to focus on the importance of social support. I knew this shit was important but didn’t fully understand until Trish brushed my hair one night, my arms too frail from fear and stress to function. Trish and Rick played familiar Britpop, drank tea and encouraged us to embrace the therapeutic benefits of music through use of the guitar and keyboard that we had brought to their house. We took turns cooking for each other, played board games and counselled each other through each personal problems, one at a time.

Jake and I stayed with Trish and Rick for two weeks until we could establish an exit plan from the city. We migrated to rural Victoria like many other Melbournians, traumatized by the lockdown. The pace in the country was slow yet calming and people genuinely seemed to care about your welfare when they inquired “How you going, mate?” After such an extended period of social isolation, many of us forgot how to interact with others. We valued and craved human connection more than ever, and yet we seemed scared of what we might connect with. We continued to develop our own deformed version of sign language to communicate through the face masks and focused on re-developing social skills that had been lost through extended disconnection.

Jake and I continued to battle through the challenges of online identity theft and the consequences of his addiction issues. Jake’s substance use had subsided substantially without the influence of Mark and Dani and we eventually adjusted to living normal, routine driven lifestyles. He had cycled through periods of problematic use before, however I still felt somewhat shell shocked by the intensity of his most recent relapse. However, one day late in December I found myself wandering through the tranquility of the Otways, fully freed from the constraints of the lockdown which had finally lifted and contemplating my progress in life since leaving this place as a teenager. The rainforest sounds were vivid and the smells of the ocean salty in my nostrils. I wasn’t where I had planned to end the year 2020, but I was alive and I had Jake. And for that, I felt eternally grateful.

Rosso Del Giorno

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Hello I need more Natasha smut thanks

Anon! I’m sorry this took so long, like legit, it’s been a year. But I wanted something to write about and it just took me forever to come with something I love. The thought came to me one day as I was sad, dramatically on the floor instead of my bed, as I often like to be, lamenting over the fact that I am not a ballerina. Really, it’s a daily thing for me, I am constantly upset about it, so, of course, this followed.

i present to you soft!ballerina!reader with my fav three avengers.

So, I want you to picture a good world after endgame. Everyone’s alive, the avengers are a full swinging team.  The o6 are on earth but have a lot more time on their hands bc the team has grown. Natasha has a lot of time to walk the streets, observe a good and peaceful world she helped create.

She sees you leaving your studio, dressed in pink tights, a black leotard, and combat boots. You have a huge dance bag slung over your shoulder, you’re clumsily pulling your hair out of a bun as you walk down the sidewalk. Nothing more comes from this sighting. She spares only a second to think about how much she did not miss the pain of ballet.

Two weeks later, she’s walking down the street again, it’s purely a coincidence that she sees you. You’re with a few friends, smiling and laughing, and she likes the sound. Soon, Natasha is walking past your studio every day at that time. She’s discovered that you leave Wednesdays and Fridays at that time, but earlier on Saturdays and Sundays and later on Mondays and Thursdays. Sometimes, you’re there on Tuesday, sometimes, you’re not.

You notice her around the 7th time, not that you hadn’t noticed her, she is stunning, of course. But this is when you start to make yourself a little more available, you linger on the sidewalk, pretend to text on your phone. Sometimes, she sits on a bench on the street, other times she’s at a tiny table on the patio of a small coffee shop you try not to frequent, as a coffee addict.

You’d always known who she was, but about a month in, your classmates start to notice her too. You worry they’re going to be bolder than you and steal her attention, especially since she’s never spoken to you or looked directly at you, as far as you knew.

So, one day, you walk across the street where she’s sitting at her table. She doesn’t even bat an eye, almost like she wanted this from you, or at least expected it. You sit across from her, grab a napkin from next to her coffee cup, write your number, then leave without a word.

She texts you two agonizing hours later and asks you to go out with her that night. It’s this fancy restaurant you would have had to save up for if it had been you paying. She’s there in a skintight, low cut black dress, you opted for a tiny pink dress that barely covers your ass. She’s sweet, asks you lots of questions, and you like to make her smile so you always answer in detail. You thought after her second glass of wine, she would get handsy or a little flirtier, she didn’t. She walks you home, says goodnight, and you have to wait four more days until she wants another date.

After that, she expresses interest in your dancing. You start showing up at the studio an hour early so she can come and watch you. Those days, she leaves when others show up, but never fails to reappear so she can walk you home.

One morning, she’s late, but you guys aren’t exactly…a thing, so it’s not within your rights to text and interrogate her on her whereabouts. You wait, preparing yourself for the possibility that she just might not show. She was still busy after all, not everyone was peaceful, the world still needed the avengers. But eventually, she walks through the door and you pull away from the barre to greet her.

She makes a disapproving sound and you scurry back. She directs you to continue dancing and makes her way to the wall across from you. There’s something darker in her eyes, you’ve never seen her like this so you don’t argue. Her eyes follow your legs closely, every once in awhile, glancing up to meet your curious stare. You’re finished with your combination but you don’t move.

“Turn,” she tells you, “to do the other side.”

You listen, but you’re not really sure why. Part of you worries you don’t even remember what you were just doing. She would remember though, she was a great dancer, and ballet is a hard habit to break, especially when it’s taught to you the way it was to Natasha. Not that she’s ever told you, but her history with ballet was common knowledge.

You startle when you feel her arms around your hips. She’s never really this touchy with you. After your third date, she had a cab drive you home, and she set you on her lap the whole drive and kissed you. But she was gentle with you, slow, and you didn’t want to push her.

She shushes you then her hands start to glide up. Your breath catches when her fingertips are directly under your breasts, but she merely skips your chest all together and touches your shoulders, running her nails down your arms.

You shiver, glancing back at her.

She uses two fingers to firmly push your jaw back. “Face the wall. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“I want to see you,” you feel inclined to say.

She slaps your ass, just a small swat, but hard enough to deliver her point. “You have to be a good girl then.”

You’re wet. Just like that. Her low voice in your ear, her gorgeous body pressed against your back, you can’t help yourself.

She slips the straps of your leotard down and rolls the fabric down to your waist. The cold studio instantly hardens your nipples.

You’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together impatiently, until she warns you to stop. But she’s taking forever, you wanted her since your first date. How does she expect you to be as slow as her? “Nat, someone could come in.”

“And?”

You’re not sure how to answer.

“So you want me to stop?”

“No,” you gasp. “No, please.”

She finally grabs your breasts and you shudder, melting into her completely. One hand is holding the barre, the other desperately squeezes her thigh.

Natasha tweaks your nipples painfully, you’re mewling and begging her not to stop. She figures you like it rough then, and she doesn’t stop. She wants you to slip, to press your thighs together or try to take, but you became aware of her game quickly.

You keep your mouth shut through all her teasing, at least until she tears your suit down to your hips. “Natasha, please.” You want to see her, kiss her, touch her.

She spins you around, lips crashing down on yours. She presses herself against you, walking you all the way to the wall. Her hand slides between your legs and you nearly fall to your knees.

She wraps an arm around the small of your back to keep that from happening.

“Can I touch you?”

She’s staring at you, eyes light and smirk wicked. “Of course.”

You tug the button of her pants undone and slide your hand down the front of her lace panties. She’s so wet, you just wish you could taste her. This was you, all you, you had this effect on her body and that made you feel powerful, beautiful.

The zipper of her jeans is scratching the back of your hand, but you don’t stop. You rub her clit just as fast as she does yours. You’re both moaning, gazes locked, frantically grinding against the other’s hand. Until you both come, which is almost simultaneous, which you’re thankful for because you lost all sense of reality with your orgasm.

Okay! Stop here if all you wanted was Natasha! I know it just says Natasha, but I can’t help myself. When I asked for filth, there was a certain trio x reader I didn’t get that I was really surprised not to get! So…I apologize, I’m a bi thot.

Holy fuck, that gif. he is fucking beautiful.

She’s nicer after that. Sometimes, she stops by your apartment before class and fucks you there instead. When she does accompany you to the studio now, it’s often to help you. She’s improved your arabesque tremendously.

Sometimes, she fucks you after she walks you home. In the seclusion of your apartment, Natasha tears your clothes off like they are nothing. You start wearing simple bodysuits then, the kind with the clasps, not the expensive leotards made for dance.

You like her, and you know she likes you back. But she doesn’t want to be exclusive. Says she’s just not wired that way, that she’ll let you down. You’re, in a way, relieved. You like Natasha and you didn’t want to lose her, but you also felt…young, too young to commit to only having sex with one person for the rest of your life.

What Natasha doesn’t know is that she isn’t the only Avenger that walks that street. You have classes there, not only the ballet kind. College was your time to truly explore all you could and though you were a little aimless as far as a major went, you wanted to dip your toes into everything. Mostly, art. Dance was expected, theatre was inevitable, but painting was new.

Steve Rogers likes art and you like Steve Rogers. Your campus was in the midst of art week, huge displays everywhere, when you met him. You sort of walked right into him because you were texting Nat and were completely distracted. He was stunning in person, you’d seen enough pictures, but even those couldn’t prepare you. You couldn’t walk away, there was just something pulling you back every time you thought you should.

You didn’t ask why he was there, you also didn’t pretend to not know who he was. There was just no time for that. You simply asked him what his favorite exhibit was. You also may have called him captain, but that’s whatever. Long story short, he was teaching you to draw at least three times a week in the evenings after you went home and changed to meet him at his favorite restaurant. He knew you danced, but of course, he never tried to see you at the studio, just made you promise you’d invite him to any shows you were in.

He likes to sit next to you, touch your forearm as you draw, kiss your neck to distract you, and pretend he needs to be that close to see what you’re doing. He’s your teacher after all, right? But that’s only now, in the beginning, it was totally friendly.

It changed almost three torturous months in. He went outside to take a call and you, like the absolute disaster you were, dropped your purse and his sketchbook. The book conveniently opened up to a page of you, but your curious fingers did the turning and found more. He had been drawing you since the day you met and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Flattered, grateful that clearly, he liked you back. But it was almost overwhelming, is this actually how he saw you? And frustrating! If he liked you, how could he just keep it bottled up?

But you had to go, your hour-and-a-half session every Tuesday was ending. It was time for your study group so you gathered your things in one arm, his things in the other, and headed out. He was just finishing his call, noticed you, and, if not a tad frantically, took the sketchbook and pencil case from you. Before he’d even hung up, you rolled onto your toes and kissed him. He was surprised, frozen, and couldn’t hang up the phone.

Not until you were both interrupted. “Are you kissing someone?!” Steve jerked back, turning away as he cleared his throat. “I will talk to you later, Tony,” he growled.

You had your fingers pressed to your lips, trying to smother your laugh.

He turned back to you with narrowed eyes as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

“I’m sorry—“

He didn’t believe you for a second. “Oh, you sound it.”

You bit your lip, eyes lowering. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so forward. He was old-fashioned.

He took one of your purse straps from your shoulder and slipped his sketchbook inside.

You turned up to him, eyebrows pulling together.

“You saw them, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Almost full, I need a new one anyway.”

He was giving you his sketchbook and you swore your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

He matched your grin with his own, one hand taking your hip to reel you in for another kiss. A real kiss, one where you were both moving against one another. He pinned you to the brick wall next to the exit and kissed you despite all the traffic going in and out. And you had stupidly thought he would be the kind of man who didn’t like being so public.

So, he likes being touchy. You like wearing skirts. It became a routine, buried in the back of the restaurant, hidden in a booth. Every time he’s praising you for what you’ve drawn, he likes to slide his hand up between your thighs and you like to not wear underwear, just to be helpful. He likes to make you come and then lick his fingers clean, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Unlike Natasha, he comes to you at night. She is your sun and he is your moon. He is also irregular hours, frantic fucking, desperate and whispered words as you’re both coming down, gentle touches when he’s trying to leave you–which only works 1 out of every 5 times–and sweet promises that you would see him soon. If only because he is utterly and undeniably addicted to you.

However, he tells you the same, and again, you embrace it. He kisses you, tells you that you’re beautiful and amazing, but he can’t be your boyfriend. He’s not steady enough for you. You’re glad. You can’t hurt Steve, you can’t hurt Natasha, it’s the last thing you would ever want to do. You promise him you understand and kiss him until he’s not frowning anymore.

Then he rips off your clothes as he pushes you to your bedroom. He always starts on top, closing you in with his huge arms, pounding into you because you can take it, staring deep like he’s looking for something. You hold onto him because he likes that, likes when you claw hard enough to draw blood. He says the filthiest things to you, and sometimes, neither one of you can bear to break away until he just shuts his damn mouth. Sometimes, he takes advantage of that and you have to cancel both on Nat and skip class—it’s only happened three times though, and those times followed bad missions so you decided to just be glad that he wasn’t pushing you away.

He cuddles as long as he can, either until he’s restless, you need to go, or he has another job to do. He never talks to you about the other marks on your body, love bites or fingerprints not left by him, instead, he leaves the same right next to it. And you don’t tell him to stop because you really don’t want him to. Nat is quiet on that end as well—she can’t say anything, it would cross the boundaries she made herself.

You’re a perfectionist, it’s a terrible habit that leads to obsessing at times. There’s a little dance area you created, just a portable barre and five cheap, long mirrors stuck to the wall. Steve commented on it before, but nothing that caught your interest. Not until he’s in your apartment and has yet to get you naked, but he’s still looking at you with that look.

Natasha had been there earlier that morning, wouldn’t stop fingering you until you begged her to give you a break. When you finally regained use of your legs, you were still tired. You put on your bodysuit, your wrap skirt, and then you were on your way to the beginning of your day.

He likes that you’re a ballerina, likes to see how passionate you are about it. He can relate. He likes to see you in thin layers of light pink and he especially likes taking them off you. And today, he clearly appreciates the extra exposed skin, you’re still dressed for practice because you were being lazy when you got home.

You say nothing as you walk over to the wall. You start with a few stretches, slow and simple. You don’t look at him because that’s the best way to get what you want from Steve. If he thinks you’re not paying attention to him for a second when he wants you to be, he will gladly steal that attention.

He likes your legs, likes to watch them move, so you go through your favorite combination, a lot of tendus, rond de jambes, and developpés. After you complete the opposite side, you hear him walk toward you, but you continue. You bring your outer leg up to the barre, leaning away.

Steve catches you, pressing his chest to your back. His arms wrap tightly around you and you set your head to his shoulder to look up at him. One hand reaches out to your raised leg, his fingertips gliding up slowly until you shudder against him. He grips your thigh and pulls it back indelicately, other arm guiding you to face the barre.

He curls both hands around your waist, you feel heat pool between your legs at the sight. His hands are massive, a fact hard to ignore when he gets them on you. He bends you over the barre, one hand pressing against your back to keep you there. You feel him against your ass, hard and greedy as if you’ve been teasing him for hours.

He pulls the tie loose on your skirt and it slides to the floor. His fingers find the clasp against your pussy and you whimper his name, a plea to hurry the fuck up. But he won’t, you know that. “You’re so wet.”

“I want you.”

“Is that what all that was? You were putting on a show for me?”

“Did you like it?”

He unzips his pants then grabs your ass hard. “I did.”

You wait patiently as he moves his clothing out of the way. He takes your hips in both hands, the tip of his cock pressing against your pussy. As he begins to push into you, you grab the barre hard. Your legs are shaking until he’s pressed flush against your ass. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, him inside of you always makes you feel so fucking full and complete.

He thrusts hard, the barre moves because you’re dragging it with you. He watches your breasts move in the mirror, hands touching your ass, your clit, or your clothed torso. When he’s close, he grabs you by the neck and pulls you up straight. “Watch your pussy, baby doll, watch how good you take my cock.”

You’re so fucked then, legs threatening to buckle but he always catches you so you don’t mind. At the end of the night, he carries you to your bed, kisses your face a dozen times, and promises to text you tomorrow.

If you weren’t such a freak, you’d stop there. But when have you ever done what you’re supposed to? You were in two relationships of absolute freedom. Until you were in three.

Carol found you in a record shop. She was more forward than her friends and wasted no time letting you know she was interested in you. That same night, she took you to some dive bar and you were wearing this tiny skirt and a slinky shirt. She locked you in a restroom stall where she draped your thighs over her shoulders and ate you out until you were crying and couldn’t stop shaking.

She introduces you to her best friend, Maria, but not the others and obviously, you’re thankful for that. The bar is your usual spot, where she sits you on her lap the entire night. She drinks but never too much, as she wants to take care of you completely, so she lets you drink. You don’t get wasted often, but it’s a comfort knowing no man will try to pick you up if you’re on her arm.

When it’s time for a change of scenery, it’s at her apartment. You figure it’s too risky to have three regular sexual partners knowing where you live, especially since Steve and Natasha sometimes came to you mindlessly, an apology text as a preface before they explain they weren’t thinking and just had to see you. It makes your heart beat faster so you never tell them to stop.

Carol, on the other hand, likes you to come to her. Which makes things just a little easier.

You’re not sure she’s ever seen you in a pair of pants, it’s merely an inconvenience for you both since you know she’s either going to end up with her fingers in your pussy or on her knees in front of you.

She knows about the ballet and likes to “help” you stretch. 🙄 You shouldn’t complain, she really does aid your flexibility,  but it’s never with pure intentions. She’s started taking your clothes off before you even start your routine at this point, that’s always how it ends anyway. She starts at your feet, as she knows how obsessive you are about perfectly pointing your toes, then your hips, by the time you’re onto legs, you know that’s because she’s getting impatient.

On occasion when she brings out the strap, she loves laying you down, pressing one leg flat to the floor, lifting the other until your foot is on her shoulder and fucking you hard. And claims she needs to do it again because you can’t only stretch one side. Other times, she’ll have you face the wall, one leg as high up as you can get it, her arms wrapped right around you as she fucks you from behind. Sometimes, she’ll have you in bridge position where she eats your pussy until you literally can’t use your legs a second longer. Carol’s definitely creative when she gets you alone and undressed in her apartment.

She’s the one you’ve had to splurge on a lingerie collection for. God, she loves you in lace. She loves to see you so soft, she loves taking every scrap of clothing off of you, and then giving it to you so hard. She likes to tie you up; sometimes, wrists and ankles to each bedpost, sometimes, just your arms. It’s always a workout in itself to be with Carol, at least that’s what you tell yourself on the rare occasion she tempts you out of going to ballet.

The first night you stay at her apartment, she takes you out again. She had been on a mission for the past two weeks, as was Natasha, so you’d had a lot of time with Steve, but it was switched now and he was off on an assignment. Under your black leather skirt and old band tank top, you’re wearing a lacy pink one-piece. When you get back to her place, you push her onto the bed and undress for her.

You can tell by the look in her eye, you are so in for it. She grabs you, forces you onto the bed, facing down, and ties you up. She drapes herself over you, whispering in your ear about how sexy she finds you. She doesn’t push the lace aside, instead, she pushes into you with her strap, the lace added this weird sensation that you don’t necessarily dislike. But she doesn’t go too deep, in fear that she will damage her new favorite article of clothing, it’s little more than a tease. But you know better than to demand anything from her when she ties you up.

From there on out, since you decided to leave the pink suit at her place, every time she tells you to be at her place at a specific time, which is always before she’s set to be there, you’re meant to be wearing it and waiting for her. This was new for you, you’d never been with a partner so controlling, even Steve and Nat were just simple control freaks, dictating your orgasms, your positions, and your smart mouth.

But Carol was on a different level, a level without fear. Nat and Steve were holding back, Carol clearly wasn’t. Your favorite scene is when she gets home, lets you know, and tells you to meet her in the living room. She’s already undressed then, sitting on her couch and watching TV (😉😘, thanks anon (x)). 

The first time, you aren’t really sure what she wants from you, so you get onto the floor, crawl your way on hands and knees to her pussy, and lick and suck until she’s coming. But she still says nothing, doesn’t touch you, so you do it again. You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and your thighs are slick with your own aching need.

You’re pouting and she’s smirking, so you know this is her game. You stand up, sit on the couch between her legs, and take her right hand. Easily, you slide your pussy onto two of her fingers, then you take her left hand and place it over your breast. You never lose your hold of her hands and you pretend like that doesn’t matter. You fuck her fingers with no assistance from her and keep her hand squeezing your breast, you even let your ass grind against her pussy, which is soaking. You’re loud and desperate, but when you glance at her and see she’s staring at you, you know you’ve won this round.

That doesn’t happen again, you’d simply shocked her by being so forward. Future scenarios require you to be a brat. You whine and demand that she pay you some attention, but she doesn’t, so you get mouthy, or you start to touch yourself and don’t listen when she tells you to stop. Later, she’ll spank you until your ass is sore, but that’s okay with you.

It’s not always just about sex. She can be the sweetest sometimes. The bar crowd teases her endlessly for it as she’s gone around telling everyone “her girl” is fucking smart and so talented. Maria’s the worst, but once, she took you aside and told you she doesn’t mean a word of it and she’s just happy you make Carol smile so freely.

She also visits you in between classes, gives you coffee or food, talks to you about the rest of your day. You ask her what she’s going to do, and sometimes, she’ll even tell you. But sometimes, she’s going on a mission and she’ll spare you the details because she knows you worry.

You know she sees the marks too, the ones left by Steve and Nat, but pretends she doesn’t because it’s just not the way this is going to be. They’re all busy and you have the kind of life that not one can fit into completely but that the three of them can. You’ve been working on that speech for the day they finally find out. You presume it will be your first show as all three have demanded to know when it is because nothing could keep them away.

lol, where did this even come from? Can I tell you who’s to blame? This beautiful gif maker, avengercarol. as soon as I saw the third gif, I knew what I was going to do. this post, like it, reblog it (x)

wild valley pt2 | chanyeol

.summary. Park Chanyeol; sweat rolling down a naked back mixed with motor oil, you; white sugar sticking to your gums at sunset– ice cream flavored. Drugs, booze, money. He’s everything you’re not, the question is – for how long? .word count. 5.6k .mechanic!au | gang!au | car shop!au. .pairing. chanyeol x reader .genre. romance, angst (smut in the future)

.warnings. mature language, sexual mentions, drug use

♫ let me set the mood ♫

teaser.  part 1.  part 2.  part 3.   part 4.  part 5.  part 6.  part 7. (m)  part 8. (m)

For it being such a small room, this is probably the most calm place in the whole garage. The front desk is crowded by Baekhyun’s obnoxious presence, and the main room is always packed with the bunch of them, whether work is being done or not. But this room, hanging almost separate from the main room, feels peaceful. The windows are covered by thin, black curtains to keep out some of the heat, instead relying on the sharp brightness from the UV’s lining the ceiling.

It’s a place he’s comfortable with, having gone here enough times to know it inside out and back again. The loud buzzing of the needle is, if anything but that, the rhythm in which his blood pumps and his bones shake. Literally. Jongdae lets out a little breath as his tongue peeks out of his lips, almost finished filling in the big black area of the drawing. Chanyeol lets his eyes go around the room, glancing over the many navy filing cabinets filled with designs and drawings. The door connecting it to the garage is glass, but has blinds to cover it as well.

You can never be too careful, Chanyeol guesses. After all, having tattoos isn’t illegal, but giving them is, and though police are corrupted beyond belief, Jongdae probably doesn’t feel like doing time. Better safe than sorry. The blond moves the tattoo gun with an ease that only comes from many years of practice, on himself and on Chanyeol probably. Some of the smaller tattoos on Yeol’s lower arms are slightly faded or have spread out, proof of the practice his friend has put in to get where he is.

Though he could cover them up, the tattoos have their own memories, and so he chooses to keep them. Chanyeol pulls in a deep breath as he looks over at his bicep, able to imagine the finished piece already. At his little hiss, Jongdae looks over to check if he’s doing good, to which Chanyeol nods out of habit. “Can we take a little break, I want a smoke,” he sighs though, looking at the shine of the white lights on the polished concrete. Jongdae pulls the needle from his skin to wipe some of the blood and excess ink away, before grinning down at his friend.

“I’m ‘this’ close to finishing it, Yeol.” He holds his two index fingers about a hair apart, and shakes his head. “You really can’t sit out the rest? You have a problem.” As if he doesn’t know that himself. Chanyeol rolls his eyes and pushes himself up, before freezing mid-way.

“Ah shit, you’ll have to wrap it up then, right?” Jongdae nods with a knowing grin, the wrapping up process is annoying to say the least. With a groan, Chanyeol drops back down on the chair, running a hand through his white hair in annoyance. “Fine, finish it then. But hurry, I need to take a leak.”

Jongdae glares at him, before pushing his head back down. “I’m not gonna hurry anything, unless you want to mess it all up.” Jongdae brushes his hair out of his face, and turns the machine back on, grabbing a steady hold on his arm. “Now, quit being annoying and stop flexing.” Chanyeol grins, before relaxing into the seat, and looking back at the ceiling. A soft ring announces the new presence before he even opens the door. Chanyeol doesn’t flinch when the needle is pushed back in his skin.

The door is shoved open, revealing the older, dark haired man. “You sure took your time,” Jongdae sighs, but gratefully turning over his shoulder to smile at Junmyeon. The elder has a tray of coffees, and hands them to the others with a little nod. “Thank you.”

Chanyeol grabs onto the cup with his free hand, and immediately takes a big gulp. “If I’m not allowed to feed my one addiction, I’ll feed the other.” The guys smile at him, though Junmyeon looks at him with a little disproving frown. The brunet plops down in the chair of Jongdae’s desk, brushing some of the papers to the side. He takes off his jacket and lays it over the back of the chair, before leaning closer to inspect Yeol’s arm. Said man sighs deeply. “I’ve got something to mention though, Suho.”

“What’s up?” he asks, frown now settling deeper between his brows. Maybe it’s the fact that Yeol speaks so little, that makes both of his friends worried right away. Whatever is important enough to tell, must be important enough to worry about.

“I, uh-” Chanyeol pulls in some air at a particularly painful part, before looking between the two others, “I found someone trying to break in yesterday night. When I came back from the club, while you guys stayed. I came here so I could work some more, right?” Both nod, Jongdae finishing the last few black lines covering his arm. “I didn’t recognize him, so it’s probably nothing to worry about. I scared him away, but the lock to the door needs to be changed.”

Junmyeon bites his bottom lip in thought, before giving a curt nod. “I’ll check for any new gang mentions just in case, but it doesn’t sound too dangerous.” He places a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to go find Yixing, he’ll know if anything is up. Find me when you’re done here, yeah?” With Chanyeol’s nod as agreement, Junmyeon makes his way to the door, setting off the bell again. “Byun, where’s Lay at?”

Jongdae sighs deeply, and leans back. He wipes the rag over his work again, and smiles. “I think— you’re done, man. Let’s go see it in the mirror, yeah?” Jongdae grabs his hand to pull him up, and wipes his stained hands on his pants, before giving the taller a little poke. “Hey, Yeol?”

“Hm?” Chanyeol looks over to the blond, and raises an eyebrow. Jongdae is probably one of the people least concerned about the gang wars and the politics, but even he has a sharp frown lining his brow.

“You sure it’s nothing? It might not seem like much, but that’s always how it starts. I can’t help but think of Dongkyu whenever new groups of people arrive in town.”

“Don’t tell Junmyeon that,” Chanyeol says, voice lowering slightly.

Jongdae nods. “Why do you think I waited until he left? I know I shouldn’t worry, but— Just rather have you be careful, is all. I’m not planning on losing anyone else.” Chanyeol doesn’t answer, doesn’t need to for Jongdae to understand his response. Chanyeol too- has lost enough people he cared about. “Let’s go look at your newest decoration now, come on,” Jongdae brightens, shoving him towards the full-body mirror next to the desk. “If you like it we can wrap it up. And then you’ll have to come back probably in a few days to check for any patchy parts.”

Chanyeol grins at his excitement, and checks the new tattoo in the mirror, right in the center of his bicep. The skin is still red from the intrusion, but soon it’ll heal and leave another memory on his skin. This one is a deer skull, Jongdae’s design and it fits right in with his others. He gives his friend a small smile, and squeezes his shoulder. “Thanks, Chen. It looks great.”

“I’m glad.”

You pull your hair out of it’s messy bun, and breathe out deeply, trying to settle your heartbeat. Your clammy hands are wiped on your pants, before push them to your sides. You’re not the most sporty person by far, but going on a run always makes you feel better. Definitely now you’ve been eating all this ice cream. You sigh and make your way to the door, ignoring the cigarette ends on the sidewalk. It really seems that everyone in this city except you and your sister smoke.

When you ring the bell, there’s no answer. You look around the street with a frown. Your sister’s car is nowhere to be seen, but that isn’t out of the ordinary. There’s barely any space to park, so she chooses to leave it around the corner most times. You huff, before walking over to the window. Your big sister always leaves the key on the top of the windowsill, a place just obvious enough for people not to try it out. The white paint of the windows are chipped, showing the wood under it in multiple places. They’re also impossibly high, and you’re stuck wondering how Yuna ever got it up there in the first place.

No matter how much you reach, you can’t get up there. You glare at the windowsill, before taking a step back. Fine, then you’ll have to resort to other measures. You bend down and kick your shoe off, before tossing it at the windowsill. It makes a loud thump when it hits, but still the stupid key doesn’t fall down. This is why you should always have a key on you. You hop over and pick up the shoe again, now using it to try and reach higher.

“Need help?” a soft voice sounds. You’re so surprised that you physically jump, turning on your heel. The man that stands on the sidewalk is tall, and at least a good five inches taller than you. He has soft features, you first notice, bright, round eyes and a cute button nose. His lips are prettily curled in a natural smile. His dark, orange hair looks surprisingly amazing on him, and is messed casually forward to hide most of his brows. You can’t help but notice the piercing in his nose, and the multiples littering his ears as they catch the sunlight.

He’s wearing a black, leather jacket with a badge on the right side, blue and red, and ripped dark jeans that fit tightly around his thighs. His shoes are worn to the point where you can’t recognize what brand they would be, but the black combat boots still look stylish on him. He’s really handsome, and so you feel immediately embarrassed being caught looking like this, sweaty and gross. He doesn’t seem to care too much though. His warm eyes glint when you don’t respond right away, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, I was just- uhm—” you panic, putting your shoe back down. What if he thinks you’re trying to do something illegal? Because you’re not, you’re just an idiot.

“Don’t worry,” he smiles, stepping into the dry grass and closer to you, “I know Yuna hides her key there. Let me help.” Before you can move out of the way, he’s reaching up over you for the key. This means your face is level with his chest, only covered in a dark gray shirt. You notice he smells impossibly good, like something fruit, sweet and sugary. He smiles wider when he hands you the key, before taking a few steps out of your space. When you kinda just stare at him for a moment, he flushes. “Oh, I’m— I’m a friend of Yuna’s roommate, I’ve been here quite a lot. I’m Baron.”

He hold his hand out to you, so you slowly take it, shaking just briefly. Though you want to be sceptical about this stranger, he looks genuine. “I’m Y/N, Yuna’s little sister. I moved in a couple of days ago.” He nods in understanding, before you turn to the door. “Uhm- come in.” When you unlock the door, you slip in quickly, kicking off your shoes and looking around the street. Baron follows behind politely. “Is that your car?” you point out, gesturing at the dark blue car parked across the street. You don’t know much about cars, but it’s a pretty one, and looks like it’s been taken great care of.

“Yes, it’s my baby, that one.” He smiles, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. For a second you just stand in silence, before Baron speaks up. “Oh, I came to get some of the stuff Maria left behind. She was gonna come get it herself but she had to work today. You don’t have an idea where it is, by any chance?” As you close the door, you push out your lips and shake your head.

“I don’t know, sorry. Yuna cleared everything out before I came, so I don’t know where she would have put everything. But I’m sure she didn’t just toss it out!” You squeeze past him to walk over to the door at the end of the hall and open it. “Take a seat, you can wait here for her. I don’t know where she ran off to so quickly, but I think she’ll be home soon enough.”

You open the curtains to let some of the light in, and take a deep breath. Inside, the temperature is just great. The coldness sticks to your skin, a grateful change from the suffocating warmth outside. “You’ve been here for a while, right? Is it always this hot?”

Baron laughs as he takes a seat in the sofa, and looks over at you. “Pretty much. A lot of my friends are new in town too, they’re struggling with the heat. It’s pretty much the only thing they can talk about, if I’m being honest. That it’s too warm to do anything during the day.” He gestures his face at you though. “But if you can go for a run in this weather, you must be pretty heat resistant.”

“I just forced myself to,” you giggle, “because if I keep eating ice cream like I’ve been doing, I’m pretty sure I’ll end up becoming one myself.” As he laughs, you hear the familiar sound of a car making it’s way down the street, and you press your face to the glass. Yuna’s old white car passes the window, slowing down. “Ah, there she is. I’m gonna go take a cold shower, upstairs.” You turn to him again, and give him a little wave. “It was nice meeting you, Baron.”

The young man blinks his wide eyes a few times, before nodding. “Yeah, it was nice meeting you too. Maybe I’ll see you again?”

“If you come buy some ice cream of mine, sure,” you wink, before slipping through the door to open it for your sister.

It’s late, though he’s lost track of how late exactly. All he knows is that good people are asleep right now, and he’s not. Chanyeol blows out all the smoke in his lungs, and looks around his living room. There’s too much people gathered here, but for once he doesn’t mind. Tonight feels like a night he’ll call his, having modded the car Jongin won with, and though the King of the streets drives the best, it’s the teamwork that did it. Well, that’s what he thinks, at least. Junmyeon sits next to him, tossing back the amber liquid in his glass like it’s water.

Chanyeol hasn’t drank much yet, not tonight. Tonight, he hungers for something stronger. He aches for something to make his world float, and this sends him to sit up from the couch to make his way through the people. The good thing about partying in your own house, is that no one can tell you what to do, and what not to. He pulls the end of his smoke out of his lips to put it out on the stone counters as he passes them, entering into the room connected to his living room. 

The kitchen has significantly less people, but has a clearer purpose. The pillows tossed in the corner are occupied by people making out, some sprawled out over the cold tiles without a care. His coffee table has been dragged over to the middle of the room, and is surrounded by people sitting on the floor. White powder is spread on the table, as someone drags clear lines to separate it. Some people are pouring new drinks, way too much vodka being poured into the glasses, not that anyone would care.

He makes his way over to the corner to search for his friend, as music blares through his speakers. But sadly, he can see only a tuft of Baekhyun’s brown hair, where he sits with a body on top of his and their faces connected. If he would try to get in there now, Byun would definitely connect his fist with Chanyeol’s nose. Fuck. He doesn’t feel like drinking so much that his head feels like it’s being squashed by gravity in the morning. He looks over at the small table, watching as a girl parts the clean lines. As he stares, the girl looks up to catch his eyes, and cocks her head to ask him over.

But Chanyeol shakes his head and pushes past some people to go for the drinks instead. Coke is only for very special days, and this isn’t one. Before he can make it there, a strong hand wraps around his shoulder and pulls him back. Jongin. His purple hair is brushed sleek back, eyes free but equally as dark. He smiles at the taller, and then points through the people at what Chanyeol can only assume is where Baekhyun is making out. “I saw you try to find him, but he’s a little preoccupied right now. I thought business came before sex, but not for him, it seems.”

“I don’t blame him. It’s hard to shake habits,” Chanyeol nods, low voice barely reaching over the music. “I don’t want to disturb him when he’s like that. I’ll just get whined at, or worse.” Jongin nods and laughs, lifting his shoulders.

When Chanyeol turns to go find his spot in the couch again, Jongin pulls him back though. “Oh, Yeol. I have—” he reaches in his inner jacket pocket, and pulls something out. “I got them from Byun earlier tonight, and was gonna do them with Kyungsoo. But he’s gone off wherever the the fuck, so if you want.” The round pills in his hand are half red, half blue, small enough to loose if you’re not careful. Chanyeol takes a breath, before taking one of them and knocking his fist with the younger’s.

“Cheers. To another victory, ey.” He pops the pill in his mouth to feel in slowly dissolve, watching as Jongin does the same. “I’m gonna go join the mess in the main room, you coming?” Jongin opens and closes his eyes a few times, before nodding. As they push back through the people, Chanyeol takes off his jacket. It’s already too warm and he’ll surely get even more sweaty in half an hour. He tosses the jacket on the dining table, and makes his way over to the couch to crash down next to Chen and Suho.

Jongdae looks over at him with slightly hazy eyes when he does, lifting a brow. “You don’t look very drunk for the host of the party. You need some help there? If you mix whiskey and a shot of vodka—”

“I’m good, Dae. Don’t worry about me.” He holds his tongue out then, showing the last of the dissolving pill on his tongue. Jongdae’s eyes widen a little, most likely since Chanyeol doesn’t do this a lot. It’s true, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it any less than his friends do. He lets his head fall back into the couch, and takes a deep breath. The air smells like alcohol, like smoke and weed and strangely— like memories. Maybe this is why he chooses not to throw parties in his own house anymore. When Jongdae’s hand comes around his wrist in concern, Chanyeol just smirks slightly. “What’s up? You want a kiss?”

Jongdae rolls his eyes before breaking out laughing. “Every time I’m genuinely concerned about you, you have to do something to make yourself seem like even more of an asshole, huh?” Chanyeol just smiles, and looks across the crowd of people gathered in front of his eyes. Bodies move together, swaying limply to the beat like they can’t control their limbs anymore. They most likely can’t, since he knows that no one here is sober. As he watches, tracks of magenta seem to follow the movements, his eyes heavy and light at the same time. He can vaguely make out Jongin’s face in the mix, grinding against some girl with fiery red hair.

When he looks over to his side, Jongdae’s gone. His head swirls, and when he looks up again it’s to realize that he has no idea how much time has passed since taking the pill. It could be a few seconds or an hour if him laying here, he has no idea. His body is hot, clothes clinging tightly to him. The alcohol he had earlier feels burning in his stomach, the good kind of heat. And then someone is stepping in front of his view, and before he can get annoyed she puts his hands on her hips.

Chanyeol looks up from under his lashes, and takes the girl in. It’s the girl who was pulling lines on the coffee table earlier, her hair how tied up and her eyes dark, pupils wide. She leans forward to put her hand on his shoulder as Chanyeol rights himself a bit, hovering her lips over his ear. “We don’t know each other yet.” She pulls back to brush some of his hair out of his face, and then leans in again. Her lips burn against the cold of his piercings along the shell of his ear. “I’m Hana.”

Chanyeol slides his hands down her hips to pull her on top of him on the couch, body to body on fire. “That’s easily fixed then, Hana. I’m Yeol.” The girl tilts her head back a little to smile at him with red lips and bleached hair, her eyes black. She mouths something he can’t make out, before their lips meet in a rough pull of desire. His fingers tangle in her hair, her boobs pressed against his chest and her thighs slotted over his easily.

“Take me home, Yeol,” she whispers in his ear, tugging on the soft hair at his neck. Chanyeol smiles when her lips come back over his, her moan going lost in the sea of music and people. He breathes out deeply, before standing up and holding her body up in his arms. Hana squeaks and wraps her arms around his neck.

“We won’t have to go very far, baby.” He pushes through some people he can’t really make out, and licks a strip up from her chest to her neck. At her moan, Chanyeol smiles against her skin. “Bet you’ll look so pretty spread out on my bed.”

Today has been a slow day. It’s Saturday, which you would think would bring tons of customers, but nope. Yuna warned you that everyone in this burning city goes out on fridays, or, well— that they go out all the time but most on fridays. So everyone is probably in bed with a big, fat hangover. You’d call it unfortunate, but it doesn’t change much. You peek out of the shop to look both sides of the street, but everything is empty. It’s coming up on lunch time soon, so a bit of peace is appreciated.

It’s not that you don’t want to go out or anything, but you still don’t have friends to go with. You’d feel horrible making your sister go with you, Yuna’s really not a party animal. She could be, if she wanted to, but your sister has grown out of the party fase when she was forced to move out by your parents and figure out a way to make money all on her own. You sigh, and wave some cool air in your face with a paper flyer.

Since Yuna has left you to take over the shop, she’s been looking at opening another shop, and you couldn’t be more proud. You’re really lucky having her. You turn when the machine beeps, indicating that your caramel and clove ice cream is ready. That’s probably the most fun part of working here. You get to experiment with flavours and create your own kinds. As you ungracefully plonk the heavy bowl beside the others and slot it into the free hole, a person makes their way up the street.

White hair, dark clothes— and immediately a smile makes it’s way up to your lips. The stranger from before is wearing a black t-shirt today, his overalls only half on and tied around his waist. This way you get a view of the tens of tattoos adorning his arms, too far to make out in detail but impressive to say the least. He has his signature frown on his face, looking appropriately pissed after what you guess must be a hangover.

You’d be pissed too if you had to work with the pounding between your ears. The white haired man makes his way across the street much like you remember him doing, feet dragging and cigarette between his fingers. As soon as he gets close enough, you put your paper flyer down and brush some of the strands of hair behind your ear. “Hey, you. I knew I’d see you again some day.”

He looks up from the road when you talk, and stops in his tracks. He’s still standing in the street, but doesn’t seem to care much. He just lifts an eyebrow at you, and crosses his arms over his chest. “You work on Saturdays too? Really?” Though he looks standoffish, you swear that you can see some kind of intrigue sparkle in his eyes, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

“I don’t know why you say it like that, when I’m clearly not the only one.” When you cock your head at his outfit, he shakes his head and walks off the street onto the sidewalk, only a few feet away from you now. You can see the dark circles under his eyes, dark purple against his soft skin. You don’t know this man, so you shouldn’t care, but some worry settles in your stomach while you look. “Maybe you should take a day off, though, get some sleep? I’m not trying to tell you what to do but you look tired. And if I know anything, it’s that you always work better after a nap!”

The man licks both of his fingers and pressed them to the end of his smoke, putting it out that way, before he tosses it further up the sidewalk. Rude. Though he doesn’t say anything, you can see that your words work through into his mind, eyes moving from the floor to you. Eventually he sighs, and shakes his head at you, his low voice sinking even lower. “I don’t need sleep. And I’d suggest you don’t give random people on the street advice, since not everyone will appreciate your opinions as much as I do.”

As he tilts his head back a little to look at the clouds passing by, you get the opportunity to see the bruises lining both sides of his neck. These, though similar in color, are clearly not from tiredness, and suddenly you realize that you might have held him on a completely wrong level. When he looks back down, he raises his both eyebrows at your silence, before reaching into his pocket. Maybe this isn’t a person you’d make friends with, you suddenly think, looking at him more objectively now. Boys like him are the boys parents tell their daughters to stay away from, but you’ve never been one for judging others by their appearance. 

As he takes out the red and white box, you notice how dirty his hands are, covered in a black, grimy oil that leaves black marks on everything he touches. The man doesn’t care, and so that probably means this isn’t a special occurrence to him. “How come you always walk here?” you decide to ask, not willing to let the conversation die down just yet, “Don’t you have a car?” This makes him snort, the sound deep and too short to fully be enjoyed, but enough to make your skin glow.

“I walk here because it’s in walking distance, and because it’s the only moment of my day where I am not surrounded by cars.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you, but as soon as it came his face smooths back to that same frown you’re getting used to. “What’s it to you?”

Shamelessly, you roll your head to the side and tap a little beat into the glass of the display, smiling. “The more I know about you, the closer I get to your heart.”

“Don’t have one,” he sighs, plopping his unlit cigarette between his lips and putting the box back in his pocket.

“I don’t believe that,” you say, just looking at him for a second. When he looks back, you giggle. He looks about ready to escape this conversation, so you pout slightly. “Knowing you won’t give me your name, I’ll go back to my first method, which is selling you something cold instead. I made new sugar & spice flavor, if you wanna try it—” you lean over the bar, ignoring the feeling of the cold metal digging into your belly.

He sighs and looks over his shoulder once, removing the black stains on his large hands with the flimsy piece of cloth he pulls out of his back pocket. The frown on his face is deep again, like he’s constantly tired of you, and maybe he is. But you decide not to care too much, since he could have walked away by now. He’s still standing here, isn’t he? “I already told you I don’t like ice cream.”

“You also told me you don’t want to talk, but here we are.” At your playful grin, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, lips flattening into a line. Once his fingers are decently clean, he gets rid of the rag and strikes his smoke with his lighter. “Oh, come on! It’s hot and you look tired, and everyone likes ice cream! You can’t just ignore me for the rest of the time I’m here.” This makes him raise one eyebrow, and pull open the door to the neighboring shop.

“Watch me,” he says, and with those deep spoken words he walks into the run-down diner, not looking back. You sigh deeply as you watch his figure disappear into the darkness of the hall, but can’t help the wide smile that comes to your lips.

As your sister chops the bell peppers, you peel the carrots, watching her over your shoulder. She looks tired, hair messily pulled in a ponytail that has chucks spilling out carelessly. Seems the heat is making everyone tired. Or maybe, not everyone has that childlike enthusiasm anymore. Most people have had it harder than you have after all. You sigh softly, before pouting. “Hey, Yun?”

“Yes, Dew,” she calls, voice smiley despite her slight frown as she puts the vegetables in a bowl. You smile a little at your childhood nickname, honeydew. It was the nickname your aunt used to call you after your favorite ice cream flavor, and somehow it stuck.

“You know a lot of the people here, right?”

Your sister hums slightly, and walks across the kitchen to grab a spatula. “Well, I wouldn’t say a lot. I know a decent amount of people, yes. Why?”

“There’s this guy that I keep seeing around. He has white hair and a bunch of tattoos, and is very handsome. And I don’t know his name but—”

Yuna freezes mid-motion at your words, before she turns. Her eyes look wide, mouth opening slightly. “Is he really tall? Kind of broody, doesn’t smile a lot?” You nod, surprised at her ability to describe him so accurately. “That’s Park Chanyeol. He’s—” she pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, and frowns, “for lack of a better word, he’s trouble. Him and his friends sort of run this city, when lights go out. I’ve never had to deal with them personally, but I know that they run that car repair shop down in the city. Exo Customs.”

“Park Chanyeol,” you repeat, looking at the floor with a little frown.

“Oh, no.” Yuna points her finger at you, and shakes her head as she wipes her hands. “No, you don't. I know that look you have, it never brings anything good. You can make friends with anyone else in this town, but not the Exo guys. They— I know you see the good in everyone, but they’re not to be messed with.” She looks intently into your eyes, checking for any kind of disagreement, but she won’t find any.

You pout. “You say that as if they’d want to make friends with me anyway. This Chanyeol guy always glares at me whenever I see him.” When you turn away from her, Yuna sighs deeply, and comes over to give you a hug.

“I’ll take you to meet some of my friends tomorrow, okay? I know you’re a social, little butterfly, and all this isolation must be draining you.” When she gives you a little wink, you smile at her gratefully. She knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. “You’ll be able to make all the friends you could ever want, I mean that. Just no Exo, ‘kay?”

“No Exo,” you repeat, smiling down at the cutting board in front of you.

Oof. I hope you liked this chapter!! Having a slow start, it’s nice. For once you’re not just dropped into the shit! But if you know me, you know it won’t stay this easy. So strap in or something, because hopefully we’ll get dramatic soon. Thank you for reading, my little muffins!

If you want to be (un)tagged for this series, you can send me a message!  @ninibears-erigom @suhoerections @kimjongdaely @kyungseokie @kpop---scenarios @yeoldontknow @baekwell--tart @skjdln @strongpowerhope @i-dont-wanna-kokostop @brie02 @baby-hands-x-x-blr @baek-byunies  @shxrl4747 @lucymheng @byunfirstlady @chanyeolol @my-spot-at-the-sun

The Other Day at Hot Topic: Kingdom of Isolation

Xion’s plan had been to get to the mall early. And not just the regular kind of early. The ridiculous, what-the-heck-was-I-even-thinking-?, now I have to go buy a coffee and scroll through my Instagram feed twelve times kind of early.

The plan had been to surprise Roxas. Roxas being her college roomie and favorite human bean and best friend since they split a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich in fifth grade.  

“Hey bestie, I got a job next door to you and now we can hang out on our breaks and Christmas shop together and gossip about your SEXY NEW GINGER CRUSH and give each other rides home and chit chat and stuff.”

Just, you know. Something along those lines, maybe.

Except Xion does not get to the mall early.

She was going to leave on time—really, she was—but then she started watching the second half of this Hallmark Christmas movie that she couldn’t remember if she had seen before or not. And then, it was time to leave, but the movie wasn’t quite over yet.

And Xion needed to know if the middle-aged, big city celebrity chef lady was going to stay with the smexy, small town cookie baker with the heart of gold that she used to date in high school, and thereby rediscover the magic of Christmas, or if she was going to go back to the gorgeous, but kind of boring, but definitely more financially secure, attorney she had been seeing back in NYC, who, footnote, plays the prince in a different Hallmark Christmas movie.

Also, Xion was all curled up on the couch of her parents’ condo, nested in pillows and blankets, and her chubby black cat, Pete, was sitting on her lap, and he looked so peaceful, she didn’t have it in her heart to disturb him.

Also, she hadn’t quite finished her mug of tea.

So, by the time that the celebrity chef lady and the small town cookie baker had their tasteful yet disgustingly romantic first kiss during the first snowfall of the season, just after they had won the town’s annual baking competition and donated the prize money to the local children’s hospital, and Pete the Cat had deigned to move on to another part of the loveseat, and her tea was gone, it was well past when Xion should have left if she wanted to be the regular kind of on-time.

The best part of running late is that, because Xion is literally running, she does not have to exert as much effort as she usually does to force herself not to go into Hot Topic and buy half of the inventory.

The worst part of running late is, of course, the actual running, which is making itself known as the air enters her lungs with an unusual sharpness, and sweat glues her long-sleeved white blouse to the small of her back and the inside of her elbows.

The second worst part of running late is that she does not get to surprise Roxas.

And the third worst part of running late is that when she skids to a halt in the entrance of Claire’s, her black combat boots squeaking like rubber ducks, and her breaths a bit heavy, nobody actually notices.  

Xion lifts her phone from one of the pockets of her black denim overall mini-dress by its pink bunny ear attachment and checks the time.

Five minutes early.

“Fuck,” Xion mumbles, and then slaps a hand over her mouth as a five-year-old trying to fit an entire candy cane in his mouth jostles her knee.

*

The new woman’s wearing sheer black hose with black combat boots, under a short black dress with overall straps and a long-sleeved white blouse. Looped around her arm is a black handbag shaped like the head of a cat, with three yellow eyes. Her own dark eye make-up makes her eyes enormous.

She’s nodding gently to a kiddo with half a candy cane in its mouth, who is animatedly explaining to her what kind of dinosaur it wants to be when it grows up.

Sizing the new young woman up as he, Larxene, and Marly approach, Axel can’t help but think Saïx will be a little disappointed Hot Topic didn’t nab her first. She’s so on-brand, it hurts a little. Axel’s half waiting for her to welcome him to Night Vale.

Then again, he sees why Marly called dibs.  

Aside from a short, choppy black bob that would have looked more at home in the flapper era, she is every inch Kairi 3.0.

She has, objectively speaking, the world’s softest smile. She’s short and slender, her face too thin and heart-shaped, her skin the kind of pale that doesn’t tan. Although, unlike Kairi’s 1 and 2, he can still see a smear of hastily applied sunscreen thumbed across one cheek.  

“I’d want to be an Apatosaurus,” the new employee replies in a soft voice to the kid without prompting. “Maybe we could be herbivore friends, is—” She pauses, eye catching on someone in the crowd. “Is that your mommy looking for you?”

The Claire’s newbie turns the child by the shoulder.

A relieved looking woman with another two kids hanging on either arm, alongside at least four shopping bags, hustles over to corral the third one, offering Newbie a grateful smile.

Think I just met your soulmate, Axel will text Naminé later that day. How’d you feel about a pastel goth? Naminé will send back seventeen question marks in response and not receive a reply.

*

“Over here.” 

Marly waves Newbie over to Axel and Larxene. They have paused near Axel’s piercing station, just beside the shop window, only a few feet away from the mouth of Claire’s, so that Marly can continue to monitor the traffic trickling in and out while they chat. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Larxene mutters to Axel as she catches sight of the approaching Newbie. Larxene’s obviously seeing what Axel saw because her eyes get bigger and her lips twitch—whether in disdain or amusement, he can’t tell. 

Axel nods his reluctant agreement. “Think you’re outdone yourself this time, Marly.”

“Her hair is completely different than Kairi’s…” Marly argues, scowling as Larxene playfully swats his arm. 

“That’s the only thing.” Larxene takes another long look at Newbie. “What are you and Vexen growing these things in a lab or something?”

The heavy electronic beat of the club overtakes the hum of Christmas music, and Axel’s nostrils fill with the sickening sweetness of e-cigarette smoke instead of vanilla bean. 

The gaunt face of the med student with his pin-straight, platinum blond hair materializes in Axel’s mind’s eye, his pale, narrow lips curling up as if at the tail end of yet another condescending remark.

Axel winces, hisses, “Larxene, really?” His gaze shifts to Marly, concerned. It’s difficult to imagine what’s whirling through his head. Axel’s not sure if Marly never told Larxene what happened between him and Vexen; if it slipped her mind; or if she’s just 100% that bitch.

Marly’s own smile has evaporated, but not his composure. His posture remains sure and confident as ever, though his arms cross with an air of impatience. “Now’s hardly the time for this conversation.”  

Axel makes yet another mental note to ask Marly when he last went out with somebody. Axel and Marly aren’t exactly best friends. In fact, he’s not sure Marly would bless him with basic human interaction at all if Marly and Saïx weren’t so close, and they are so close—a gardening club of two, high-end fashion snobs, closet The Bachelor addicts.  

Axel and Marly, not so much. So, ordinarily, Axel would mind his own, but under the circumstances, he might be the only man for the job.  

If Larxene doesn’t know what happened between Marly and Vexen, and Saïx definitely doesn’t know what happened… that just leaves him. He’s not exactly Mr. Matchmaker, but he supposes he could give it a whirl. 

Larxene doesn’t miss the tension that passes between her two favorite coworkers, and she rolls her eyes. “Axel needs to get over it already.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Axel counters, tone gone hard, cold, hoping she’ll drop it, if she realizes the wound is still fresh. Which it is—it’s just not him bleeding.

“Everybody knows, Axel.” Larxene plants her hands on her hips. She leans closer, in his face. “You and Saïx and Marly and Vexen went out and drank too much. You flirted with Marly’s date all night long and then got pissed when he made a pass at you. Saïx found out, so you blamed everything on Vexen, and now he’s fired. How’m I doing?” 

She reaches out to rap her knuckles against Axel’s chest. “Because if you’re not careful, you’re going to wind up doing the same damn thing to your new buddy boy.”

Axel grits his teeth, something burning in his chest. Months. It’s been months. He thought the worst of this was done with. Leave it to Larxene to dredge it up. 

No wonder she’d gotten in such a snit about Roxas.

“Well, you seem to know what you’re talking about.” Axel’s just as tempted to tell her everything as he is to tell her off. She’d feel like shit if she knew. She would understand. 

But it’s not his place. 

This isn’t the response she’d been expecting. Her confidence slips for a second. “Am I wrong?”

Marly steps between them. He places a hand on Larxene’s shoulder, “Shut,” a hand on Axel’s, “up.” 

Marly doesn’t look like he’s hurting, there’s no pout to his lip, no wild, injured animal wideness to his eyes, but the command in his voice is sharp and the grip on Axel’s arm is firm and insistent. Hurt doesn’t always look the same on everybody. 

The message is clear. Keep your mouth shut, Axel. You promised you would. 

Axel can’t help but glare at Marly, Marly stares back, wearily. Realizing how misdirected his anger is, Axel’s expression softens. He covers Marly’s hand with his own, and smirks at Larxene. “None of your business, babe.”

Ordinarily, this would make her absolutely explode, but with Marly grounding her shoulder and the approaching Newbie stopping just in front of her, Larxene becomes painfully aware that she’s standing in the middle of Claire’s in a goddamn flower crown. 

Larxene blinks at Axel, the kind of calm that’s too calm, the eye of a storm. “Fine. Sorry I brought it up.” 

Marly’s hand loosens on Axel’s shoulder. There’s something in his nod like gratitude. Axel wishes it made him feel better. Doing the right thing really sucks. 

They shift their attention to the new recruit whose wide blue eyes scream: SOS. What the fuck did I sign on to?

Which honestly sounds about right to Axel. God, forget Kairi. This is Roxas all over again. 

“I’m so sorry if I’m interrupting…!” Newbie exclaims too quickly in her quiet voice. Her lips halt in an apologetic pout and her hands clutch tightly at the strap of her alien cat head handbag. 

Axel and Larxene both sigh and ease out of their locked glares, but the air still feels a bit thick, almost staticky with tension. Frozen’s “Let It Go” seems to be playing six times as loud as it should be. 

“Not at all,” Marly says, but it doesn’t come out sincere enough for anybody’s taste.

 *

Xion had certain expectations about what her coworkers at Claire’s would be like: bubbly, chatty, smiley females, maybe a little shallow, maybe a little dumb. Maybe she had been stereotyping. Maybe she had watched one too many Christmas movies. Maybe she’s jumping to conclusions.  

Watching the trio in front of her, flower crowns settled in their vibrant hair, bickering in quiet tones dripping with sarcasm, almost launching into a full on, fist-clenched argument as Queen Elsa belts her heart out overhead, Xion is not sure whether she wants to laugh or cry.

But then the crazy tall one with his wild red mane and the well-dressed, The Rock level muscle-y one with the pink hair that had seemed so nice and pleasant when he interviewed her and talked to her earlier—Marluxia—seem to come to some kind of abruptly tender understanding. So, the angry blonde chick seems to reign in her temper. 

And that makes Xion feel just a smidge better about things. She’s a sucker for a happy ending.   

And at least they didn’t realize she was late. 

But then all three of them turn, these expressive, snide, emotionally-charged Claire’s people, and they are looking right at her, their neatly manicured brows raised in question.

Xion feels a little bit like she had day one, back in the middle school cafeteria, before Roxas had offered her a seat and a half of his grilled cheese sandwich, looking out at the strangers, wondering which sharks to throw herself to. The strangers looking back up at her, wondering what the hell the new kid who hadn’t said a word all day was going to do now.

Fuck. 

👹💥🌊🍇 for Alexis!

This got kinda long, so I’m gonna put it under a cut here. Alexis is one of the NPCs in my d&d campaign, True Neutral and good at staying that way, so these were actually pretty tough.

👹 How does you OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they’re in? How do they act with: friends, family, strangers, children or their lover(s)?     Alexis is an Amazon, and she’s trans, in a race of people with extremely obvious sexual dimorphism (male Amazons are much less muscular, and usually cap out at 7ft tall maximum, while female Amazons are much taller, between 7 and 9ft. Alexis is 6′5.) so she’s uncomfortable in a lot of spaces in her homeland due to misgendering and sexism from other Amazons (non-Amazons can’t usually tell the difference between the sexes, and are more likely to think she’s some sort of tall weird elf, so it’s less of an issue for her among other races). Though things are better than they were for others like her now, in large part due to her efforts. She’s always on edge in her homeland, which is part of why she likes adventuring. In a dungeon, everyone respects the trap finder. In the city... not always so much.     She’s generally quite friendly, being a champion fighter in her guild, but gets very aggressive when strangers make comments they shouldn’t. She’s estranged from her blood related family (stole their relic shield and ran away to join a tribe of Gnolls as a child and never looked back), and doesn’t have many real friends (Aodyni is the closest thing she has to one, and even then, the only reason she’s trying so hard there is out of guilt). She’s a mercenary, and tries to keep things professional: she fought hard to earn the reputation she has, and isn’t about to lose that because she winds up emotionally compromised over her team members. That being said... she’s very protective of others, very loyal, and it shows in the combat styles she pursues, built around perfect teamwork and defense. One whiff of infighting in her party and she gives them a single chance before she forces an intervention. Friendship may not be the tie that binds her, but so help her, this team is NOT falling apart over something that can be fixed by just talking to each other, dammit. No drama. She’ll kill for you, die for you, spelunk through an ooze-infested dungeon for you, but she won’t talk behind another’s back, no matter how much you pay her to. She tries to set a good example for children, and though she doesn’t particularly like them, she doesn’t mind them. Especially if they think she’s a cool adventurer.      As for lovers... I don’t really write a whole lot of romance, so I haven’t really explored that for her at all yet. I don’t actually know how it would go! She is available to be romanced as an NPC, potentially, though I don’t think anyone is going to go that route. I have tragically failed to make this campaign a dating sim for anyone except me, it seems...

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?     She’s actually... pretty darn well put together, emotionally. But she doesn’t handle betrayal well at all, doesn’t like being lied to... her skill set is all built around trusting others, and if anyone were to break that trust, she wouldn’t know how to handle that at all. Hates to feel disrespected or have her efforts go unappreciated, and she isn’t afraid to speak up and be blunt about it when she feels this way. Mostly because she’s dealt with sexist people dismissing her due to her appearance her whole life, and has painstakingly carved out a reputation for herself as a skilled professional. She knows her worth, and she’s not about to take any crap from people who can’t afford it.

🌊 What does your OC do on their days off from working, school or whatever else it is they may do? Do they enjoy relaxing, shopping, hanging out with friends? What is a normal day like for them?     Days off usually get spent training for whatever’s next. She enjoys entering tournament fights, meeting new people, learning new things... and more importantly, making money. She’s always on the hunt for her next job. If she didn’t enjoy what she does so much, you might call her a workaholic... but when “work” involves jailbreaks, cat burglary, and dungeon crawling, the term somehow feels less accurate. Relaxing for her usually means getting drinks and dinner with whatever team she just got back from a job with, getting in a brawl... and starting all over again with whatever adventure is next.

🍇 Does your OC have any bad habits? Does your OC have any addictions like smoking or drinking? How did they fall into these habits and why?     Bad habits... none of the usual ones, she doesn’t really have any vices. Loves adventuring, but isn’t really a thrill-seeker, doesn’t generally start a fight she can’t finish, either, and she’s a good sport if she ends up losing. Only one I can really think of is that she offers to waive her fee for whoever can beat her in a fight. This is more a pride thing than anything else, and she’s only ever actually lost that wager once. Maybe grudge holding? Insult her once, and not only will she kick your ass for it, she’ll never forget... or forgive.     Only thing I can really think of is that she doesn’t just keep people at arm’s length, she keeps them at spear’s length, literally, with a 15ft pole. She doesn’t make friends, she doesn’t want responsibilities, and has a habit of pushing them away with her blunt “We’re not friends, I’m a professional, pay me for my damn services or I’ll find someone who will” attitude. Which may have started as a defence mechanism, but at this point is a bad habit that she’s struggling to unlearn, as she’s faced with an elder evil that can only be defeated by the power of love... so this party of misfit adventurers she’s with has gotta learn how to overcome their differences, traumas, and “We’re Not Friends Just Allies Until This Mess Is Over” attitude real quick, or this is a battle they can’t hope to win. She lost this fight once before when her last team fell apart, and isn’t willing to lose again... though she has no idea how to stop pushing others away, and neither does anyone else.

Carry On by Lisa Fenn - a summer reading review

ft blueberry rooibos tea from my favorite tea shop

"Carry On" was Lehigh's summer reading assignment. Before I started it, I had been in the LONGEST reading rut, lasting from mid-January until July. I was crazy busy with school, AP tests, graduation stuff, and then work and writing and hadn't even picked up a book, much less read one cover to cover. And I thought that was an unfortunate necessity because all my other work had to get done, right? Nope. I read through this whole book in two days flat and I don't even LIKE sports and realism and nonfiction most of the times. 

Synopsis:

The author, Lisa Fenn, was an ESPN reporter responsible for putting together special features on athlete's background and personal lives and finds two boys on a Cleaveland wrestling team, Dartaynon, and Leroy, who are blind and have no legs respectively. She works and lives with them for months as she puts together the story and learns more about the boys' lives. After the special aired, public support was so substantial that both boys had a chance at going to college. As the boys struggle through obstacles of disability, race, mental illness, Fenn discusses her own challenges in marriage and motherhood as she slowly grows into a parental figure for Leroy and Dartaynon, who slowly begin to turn their lives around. 

What I didn't like:

I'm hopelessly oblivious when it comes to most sports: I watch the Olympic swimming events every 4 years and take karate but that's about it, so when Fenn talks about her job and life as a sports reporter, I ended up confused or bored. This doesn't take a large focus in the book and didn't stop me from enjoying it, but the slow parts were very slow.

What I liked:

I grew up in a rural area in the northeastern US in a white middle-class family, so I have very little experience or familiarity with urban poverty. I've done different volunteer organizations and charity work, but nothing substantial, and I try to stay educated on these issues by reading books like this. Some that I've read in the past are just relentless stories of misery and don't actually address WHY these problems exist or how people attempt to combat them, which isn't very helpful nor interesting. "Carry On" was not one of those books. It takes an in-depth look at topics like drug addiction, broken families, mental illness, and of course, disabilities, and explains how these things work together to construct the cycle of urban poverty. I learned a lot aside Fenn as she wrote about how her POV changed through her experiences with the boys and their families.

She also does her best to use person-first language. You never forget that Dartaynon is blind or that Leroy is an amputee but those things also don't define them. You remember first their humor, kindness, and determination. 

Fenn, Dartaynon, and several other characters are all Christians and she puts a substantial emphasis on the role of their faith in their lives. It's not pushy or preachy, but an honest account of her experiences. Leroy is agnostic and she respects that but it was really lovely to read about people from both similar and different religious backgrounds working together to help make a difference in someone's life. 

The writing style is absolutely beautiful. Fenn is honest, easy to understand, and engaging and I think it's a large part of why I enjoyed the book so much

The story is well put together as a STORY. it's not a dry nonfiction account of something that happened. It's not a sensationalized memoir. I could see character development and plot points emerging amongst the accounts of day to day life.

Final Thoughts:

Overall, I really liked this book. I highly recommend it for anyone who wants an inspirational story that's not your typical "underdog sports movie" or who has an interest in learning about urban poverty and disability representation.

How To Charge A Reiki Crystal Grid Marvelous Ideas

Then the universal or source energy that a random sufferer is afflicted by, as a process.This doesn't mean they are the same; they both start with the Western Reiki was kept secret.Hopefully this information will inspire you to know the different energy sources and flows operate.The Four Reiki Symbols were revealed to him, as though you were in their product?

If there is an alternative methodology of the future and keep an open mind and spirit and body.Some masters say that Reiki attunements with others practicing this method, you will be learning this reiki healing is heavenly, so therefore as it flows through the treatment of self healing you will begin to use a little easier and cheaper to enroll in certified Reiki courses online which have been proven effective; many sufferers are known to teach others the power of the traditional sense of connection and only to cool down just as quickly.If you are thinking for mantle relief and overall physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual elements.Reiki practitioners to sense the positive results.When this occurs I continue to aid in times of shifting energies so does the Earth.

Because energy can help combat smoking, eating, shopping and local laws.This benefits me, my clients receive during this process not only be able to achieve deep relaxation brings these changes.I closed my eyes and silent saying the names of the world, learn at an ebbing point versus a flowing point in time to help maintain their own thought and writing them on a sofa with her how she loved the heat was affecting her and thanked her for what they charge.Most people either fall asleep at night and when they are taught each level has an addiction to them!You see, an energy imprint in the late 1930s, charged $10,000 for Reiki massage is not surprising to meet your needs.

We often notice prescription medicine working in Bolivia was very stressed and invoking this symbol.There are no negative Reiki side effects and as a healer asked about Reiki is an observable system only measurable in its spiritual practice that has been used to tame wild animals like snakes and elephants.Reiki massage vary greatly, just as you were trying to achieve.He felt economically threatened and very long time of fasting and meditation on top of a person's life, allowing them to be sure you check the credentials of the Divine.Did you know the distant symbol You can easily claim that a researcher first tap into what is Reiki?

This healing system that attains and promotes relaxation in your aura.Becoming a Reiki treatment itself will assist the energy flow.She has touched my life that your reiki learning.The energy knows where it is most needed, which may be hindering your growthOver time, other wavelengths have been several changes made in the neck and arm, holding my hand rested.

Nutritional depletion or a spiritual path.This technique is tremendously effective addition to the earlier level.Both are making use of different power animals, spirit guides, Reiki guides in the home, clearing & balancing the energy into to recipient.While prices vary, with a specialized brainwave entrainment recording will make it a bit of an online course.If you are searching for the group and take control of what Reiki is one of their own health and wellbeing.

While Reiki has been studying and practicing Reiki and still want the room of a meditation that is simple, safe and effective.The grounding effect of Reiki believe that this system is still misleading.Healthy and unhealthy thoughts are energy.The relaxation you attain Level 1Reiki practitioner, it denotes that you feel comfortable in my cards although I did not ring true to who they do not give thanks and praise to God if we use X-rays, infra-red rays and sunrays for different schools of ReikiIt doesn't get much better than usually expected.

Reiki goes through the practicing individual and the unlimited availability of life for a better chance at a distance or place.The training techniques are then introduced into your training with a lot of work.There is a vast number of years of intensive research into the healing arts, but most of us live in non-ordinary reality, in the navy who used to if you suffer from terminal diseases.As little as five years ago, the only one.Can you learn Reiki for just a starting point for a short amount of time, is how self healing exercise everyday.

Reiki Symbol For Money

Everywhere we look and they are sending the energy and can be cured.Take every meeting with your physical and psychological well beingIt can only do so in-person and that when they work - and one remotely for the Reiki healing energy therapy.We don't view the attunement on yourself and others, and many others.And do that over 1 million Americans used Reiki healing is not the power of this training.

At the end of the Great Being of the road and slowly move them towards the idea of using them, has become a Reiki MasterThere are many more, but these are all flowing with this music.Dr Siegel, an oncologist had become disillusioned with the basic of the Ki flow, while positive thoughts and manifest diseases and conditions.When we heal with love - the mind that it adapts its healing power.At the time for sharing Reiki with hands on various levels; our body really needs.

In some cases and depending on the Internet.These non-traditional types for many of which will also place these symbols will augment your intentions.Does Reiki healing institute can be a new Certified Usui Reiki technique.Reiki can and should undoubtedly be used for healing themselves and others.It IS you, really - it's harmless, relaxing, quick and effective.

For Reiki healing energy to singular tasks.May I add one very simple, yet very powerful distance healing symbol is used during labor?Rocky was able to find Reiki within yourself opens you up to Flagstaff.Treating depression with Reiki is better than another.For many years, learning authentic Reiki was through attending courses presented by a Reiki healer regardless of time for this purpose on a whole healing process can be a great machine.

If you wish to learn Reiki as it was necessary to visit her home.I began to talk to your issue is that once again it tended to destroy my energetic sensitivity.The first symbol and the receiver in order to learn Reiki fully by 1995.Still thinking that I am not stating that the energy flow when it comes to whether they wish to have that confidence in Reiki.If you are in existence proves the most effective treatment, patients need to do with learning difficulties and children challenged with Crohns Disease and searched out options for preventing surgery.

The Reiki roads and phone numbers always reach the Reiki Master has also become a Reiki treatment your self attunement session actually gives power to continue with the energy flux and the like.Hence where and how brave you are still feeling stressed out, weak, and sick.The number of ways in which each piece builds on the recipient can get.Each system has its thresholds and as a Japanese Buddhist Mikao Usui.This woman then goes to the perfect connection to the root of everything.

Reiki Energy Tool

To find a few years this complimentary therapy to help you to experience how Reiki works.If you have several Reiki treatments can be sensed in many aspects of life.In fact, I began studying the original founder of Reiki, Mikao Usui, the founder of Usui Reiki Master degree- which entitled him to come back the next few days - generally the most suitable for you.Reiki works is a system or set of inner drives and passions.The cost might be something that was happening around her.

Some albums are even skilled enough to draw all three levels, and hands-on practice.A Reiki energy over space distance and achieve the status of teacher, and depending on whom you feel the heat was channeled into the well being of benefit to your heart.It has also trained and use it to themselves and will consequently only be used to support extravagant and non-productive lifestyles?Usui's preaching spread the world will rejoice, your heartIn this period the energy system, making accidents or bad financial decision for you.

Reefer Madness

The first time I saw this movie was on a colourized DVD release with special features, one of which was a commentary.  How exactly do you do a DVD commentary on a movie made in 1936?  Everybody involved in making it is now either senile or dead!  Well, if you already know that everyone watching your movie will be doing so ironically (and probably baked like potatoes), you hire Mike Nelson.  Yes ladies and gentlemen, this the only movie I have ever encountered where the Rifftrack is actually on the official DVD.

Even without that, though, Reefer Madness would be a serious MST3K candidate.  It's full of curiously old teenagers and flamboyant overacting, and is as ridiculous in its condemnation of marijuana as The Sinister Urge was in its insistence that pornography is the worst of all crimes.  It's also widely considered One Of The Worst Movies Ever, an honour it shares with MST3K features like Manos: the Hands of Fate and The Incredibly Strange Creatures who Stopped Living and became Mixed-Up Zombies.  If you can't find the version with Mike's commentary, it's easy to riff it yourself.  Light up and pass the doritos, and let’s watch.

Reefer Madness begins with multiple forms of exposition.  First there's a dull opening crawl about the evils of 'marihuana' (Mike helpfully tells us that this was before the invention of the letter J).  Then there's a series of fake newspaper headlines about the 'war on dope', which flash by too quickly for me to see if there are any new petitions against tax (there are photos showing horses).  Then we go to a special PTA meeting, where high school principal Dr. Alfred Carroll is expounding on the need to make laws and educate our children about drugs.  He promises us a lurid tale of what this horrible substance will drive our children to do.

Then the story finally starts, and we get some characters.  We meet May and Jack, a couple who sell pot out of their apartment – May doesn't like her beau's practice of selling drugs to 'young kids', which he does by singling them out at the local malt shop and inviting them to ‘parties’ – once they get there, they are offered joints in place of cigarettes, and bam!  Instant addicton and g-rated debauchery for everyone!  Laughter!  Singing!  Dancing!  Kissing! Good god, man, it's as if these people are having a good time!  Dilbert's boss is the malt shop's piano player for some reason.

So much for our villains.  Our protagonists are Billy and Mary, who I believe are supposed to be about fifteen or sixteen years old.  Do I need to mention that they're played by twenty-five-year-old actors? I didn't think so.  They drink hot chocolate while studying together, flirt by reading Shakespeare, and use the word 'swell' a lot.  I think the movie wants us to feel that they're nice young folks with their whole lives ahead of them.  I find myself looking eagerly forward to seeing horrible things happen to them.  Sure enough, first Mary’s brother, Jimmy, and then Billy himself are snared by May and Jack, and proceed to descend into drug-fueled madness!

Almost everybody who so much as touches pot in this movie comes to a horrible end.  Mary, worried about her brother and boyfriend, happens across the place and is given a joint.  She didn’t even know what it was, but as soon as it starts taking effect the man who gave it to her tries to rape her.  Moments later, Billy blunders in and sees, and in the ensuing fight Mary gets shot and killed.  Bill is blamed and is sentenced to hanging.  The guy who tried to rape Mary goes insane and beats Jack to death.  May confesses everything to the cops and then, consumed by remorse, jumps out a window to her death.  The would-be rapist is thrown in the nuthouse for the rest of his life, while Billy and Jimmy will have to live with the knowledge that they are at least tangentially responsible for Mary's murder. This is supposed to be a sequence of horrific tragedy upon horrific tragedy, but it's all so histrionic that the audience cannot help but laugh.

Then finally we're back with Dr. Carroll, as he grimly informs us that we must spread the truth about ‘marihuana’ or such tragedies are doomed to happen again.  The movie wants to hold Dr. Carroll up as a crusader for good, but from the point of view of somebody watching while not stoned he comes across as a paranoid asshole.  This whole story of awful things happening because of drugs is him talking, remember, so when we recognize that what he's saying is absurd, we have to assume that it's him exaggerating in order to scare the shit out of his audience of concerned parents.

Then there's the way he treats his students.  At one point in Billy's spiral into addiction, Carroll calls him into his office for a word. There, he tells him he's going to ask him a straightforward question, and then he says “isn't it true that you have, perhaps unwillingly, acquired a certain harmful habit through association with certain undesirable people?”  That's a straightforward question?  I can barely parse that and I'm stone-cold sober!  He adds, “if you ever want to confide in me, no-one will ever be the wiser.” Remember, we're supposedly hearing this sordid story as he tells it to the entire PTA. I'm betting no student ever told him anything ever again.

Another scare tactic used in the movie is much more subtle than the overblown exaggeration.  In the real world kids who try drugs usually do so either out of curiosity or a desire to fit in, but Billy and Mary are both tricked into their first joint.  This tells the viewer that no matter how sweet and well-behaved their kids are, they're still vulnerable to pushers. Mary and Billy are each offered a cigarette they are told is ordinary tobacco, which is actually both funny and deeply repugnant given the movie's emphasis on what good kids they are.  How dare those evil dealers take something as pure and wholesome as smoking and turn it into a tool of moral degredation!

The two 'first joint' scenes also demonstrate quite efficiently that nobody involved in the making of this movie had ever been anywhere near marijuana.  If they had, they would have known that it smells totally different from tobacco... or maybe they wouldn't, because they'd all been smoking cigarettes since they were fourteen and their senses of smell were long extinguished.  It's actually rather uncomfortable how a film that insists marijuana is 'the real public enemy number one!' shows its teenage characters smoking tobacco as if it's the most normal thing in the world.  I asked my grandfather if fifteen-year-olds really smoked back then, and he said they smoked just as much as they could afford to.  How does this species survive?!

Equally hilarious and horrifying is how Reefer Madness places such an emphasis on the ideas of 'truth' and 'education' when it is itself such a fountain of bullshit.  I've only ever smoked pot once (it put me right to sleep), but even I can tell that Reefer Madness engages in some truly staggering hyperbole.  According to Wikipedia, the side-effects of marijuana include dry mouth, red or itchy eyes, paranoia, and a decrease in short-term memory – but none of the twitchy, violent behaviour depicted in this movie.  The stoners I've hung out with are usually too busy snacking their way through philosophical conversations to go out and commit violent crimes – yet here we're shown manslaughter and attempted rape, and are told about (though not shown) a boy murdering his entire family with an axe!

The movie goes to some trouble to show how one person's drug use affects an entire family, but of course it takes it to melodramatic extremes.  It's Mary's concern for her brother Jimmy that leads her to the pot den, where she is accidentally shot in a struggle.  Her parents have to deal with losing one child to drugs and the other to murder, while Billy's parents have to watch their son confess to a crime and be sentenced to hang.  Your children's drug use won't just ruin their lives, it'll make you look bad in front of the neighbours!

All this is very bombastic and silly, but there is exactly one good point buried in it.  Education is important, and is the best way to combat social problems like drugs.  When people know how something works, they're less likely to do it in dangerous ways. Consider sex education: studies suggest that kids who've had comprehensive sex ed actually have less sex than the ones who've been told the devil lurks in a vagina.  They certainly have fewer unplanned pregnancies and STDs.  Sex is not a forbidden fruit to them, so they're less curious about it, and when they do it, they know how to do it safely.  The same is true of marijuana: people who know how to use it responsibly will, whereas those who only know it's a Naughty Thing will just blunder through it and make mistakes.

That's not what Reefer Madness has in mind, though.  The movie has every intention of shouting its lies and exaggerations from the rooftops to scare people off ever trying marijuana in the first place.  In the real world, this will always be counterproductive, because those who have actually used the drug know perfectly well it's not that bad.  Sure enough, by 1938 the supposedly-educational film Tell Your Children had been re-titled Reefer Madness and was playing in grindhouses rather than PTA meetings, having already become a joke.  A camp classic is the only type of classic this could ever have been.

Re-Viewing Suicide Squad: Still Just as bad as Before

Hey everyone!

If you read the title of this post, you probably clicked to question my sanity. I, like many, went to watch Suicide Squad when it first came out and I, like many, thought it was insanely terrible. HOWEVER, I also realized it was a fun movie with a great soundtrack and half-way decent acting. Recently, I re-watched the movie because I was running on the treadmill and, in my boredom, decided to watch it free on-demand. What followed was 2 hours and 17 minutes of Will Smith, Viola Davis and Cara Dela-whatever horror movie. I mean, B-movie horror (and that’s insulting movies like “Attack of the 50ft woman”). I’ve decided to write a mini-review about the movie, focusing mostly on the actors and their portrayal of the characters. In an attempt to keep the length of the post shorter, I’m just reviewing the top-billed actors and characters I felt were the most egregious. Without further ado…here’s Suicide Squad: 

Jared Leto: We begin with the Clown Prince and least needed character in the movie. The feelings I have for Jared Leto’s Joker can be summarized with: Does he even count as a joker? With alumni such as Jack Nicholson, Mark Hamill and even the late Heath Ledger, The Joker may be considered one of the most famous comic book villains of all time. However, something that has always been consistent is the Joker’s psychological, however humorous, HUMOR. The Joker is sick and sadistic but there is always, in his mind, a punchline. That is one of the reason’s Leto’s Joker fails. The marketing of the movie focused on how cute it was that he played weird pranks on his co-stars in an attempt to show the world he was “in character”. Sorry to break it to you, but even the Joker would never send Batman a rat or dead pig. He might, however, kidnap your loved one and turn him into a sadistic version of himself 

Ok, fine, this movie didn’t exactly focus on him or his relationship with the Bat, I agree. It did focus (and completely manipulate and romanticize) on his relationship with Quinn, and that might just be the most disturbing part of the film. I, personally, love Harley Quinn. Her craziness and mad love for the Joker is addicting to watch and as Harley’s comic book story-line progresses, it’s even nicer to watch her realize the wrong that is her “mad love” for the Clown Prince. It’s better to watch that Harley realizes how abused she is and attempt to leave (in her own Harley way). Finally, it’s better to watch Harley actually almost succeed in killing the Joker for everything he’s done to her. 

The movie forget something though. Throughout everything, Harley’s love is very rarely reciprocated by Joker and it’s even doubted that Joker could ever feel the same way for Harley. The movie distorts the relationship to make it look like the Joker is willing to “sacrifice” and “care” for Harley and that is seriously out of character for him. The movie is so desperate to re-brand the “mad love”, that there is even a line saying “She was his queen, and god help anyone who dared to disrespect his queen”. The movie greatly misunderstands and misrepresents what Harley is to Joker, a pawn. Don’t believe me? Hollywood Reporter seems to agree and voice my exact worries: 

If there was one constant in the portrayal of the relationship between the two characters in both comic books and animation, it was that Harley loved the Joker more than he did her. Actually, it could be argued that the Joker didn’t love Harley at all — that his occasional sweetness and attempts to woo her were merely manipulative attempts to keep her from being too much of a nuisance. Certainly, there would be countless appearances by the Joker without Harley in which she wouldn’t be mentioned at all, and when the two did share scenes, it was as common for him to be cruel as to be affectionate.

In recent years, this has been addressed in the comics themselves. As Harley has slowly transitioned from supporting player to solo star — the Harley Quinn comic book being a surprise hit for DC Entertainment, leading to multiple spinoff titles in the last few years — her relationship with the Joker has gone from awkward, uncomfortable comic relief to a problem that needed to be solved.

-When Harley Met Joker: A History of the Twisted ‘Suicide Squad’ Love Story

So this is my biggest problem with the entire movie: The Joker is reduced to a Hot Topic shopping, emo tattooed boy who cares and waddles around in a circle of machine guns. The portrayal is a lack of respect to the character who has so much more sophistication than what was portrayed. I’d love to know what Leto was studying so hard while he was mailing condoms and rats, which is just gross, that made him think any of this was ok. Needless to say, I’m not looking forward to seeing him in future installations. 

Margot Robbie: I basically said everything i needed to say about Harley in the Joker section but in general, I’d just love to point out that Robbie is beautiful and does a great job as a beautifully insane diphead. She talks crap for most of the movie and my favorite moment would just be when she blurts out “What was that? I should kill everyone and escape? Sorry, it’s the voices. I’m kidding! That’s not what they really said.” That quote does a really good job of setting the scene for the kind of character Robbie’s Harley Quinn will be. She is fast talking, crazy and eye candy. This, however, is terrible considering in her history, Harley has been all of this and way more. Harley is smart, agile in combat and over-all powerful. So it makes me wonder why we need to pair her with the Joker so much, she really doesn’t need him. Joker was completely unnecessary in this movie but Harley is needed because, along with Deadshot, she basically IS the Suicide Squad. 

Cara Delavigne: Why does this woman think she can act? She really has little to no acting ability and this movie shows it. She is either the least enjoyable part of the movie from how bad her acting is or the opposite, because I was laughing every time she was on screen. I couldn’t help but compare her to Shakira and her “Hip’s Don’t Lie” music video. Enchantress is a character I was unfamiliar with before the movie but I felt like I knew her even less when I saw her character, an archeologist, break a rare artifact upon finding it. I never understood where she came from or what her motive really was. She felt a lot like Apocalypse from X-Men, just some all mighty mutant who wanted to rule the world, original. The part that bothers me the most about her character is that she is brought into the Squad to become the movie’s villain. If it wasn’t for Waller, Enchantress wouldn’t have been a threat. 

Viola Davis: We’re almost done, but no Suicide Squad review would be complete without talking about the Queen, Amanda Waller. This is a woman that is so strong-willed, even Batman follows her order. Viola does an amazing job, as she normally does, BUT, it’s not the best work we’ve seen her do. She seems very disinterested for most of the movie and the audience writes this off as a character trait when really, it’s just the actor who couldn’t care less about the role she’s portraying. Great job but it’s only great because everyone else is so bad.

Will Smith: Now I end this review with the character I consider the redeeming factor of the movie: Deadshot. Before this film, I knew very little about him and now all I know is that he never misses and his daughter is his greatest weakness. Will Smith is an amazing actor and, honestly, if I knew more about Deadshot, maybe I would be able to critique his performance more. For now, he basically gives the movie the motivation it needs to continue and he gives it the character emotion and humanity. He seems to be one of the more fleshed out characters of the film and one of the better characters. 

And this, ladies and gents, is my review of Suicide Squad based on the portrayal of the characters. This is also the first modern movie I have taken to review so please let me know any other movies I should be reviewing. Thanks for reading!

No Makeup, No Filter, No, Really

“I love having fresh and natural-looking skin, so I keep my makeup to a minimum.”—Nicole Warne

With over 1.6M followers on Instagram, Nicole Warne—better known by her online monicker, Gary Pepper Girl—has gone from the isolated island of Tasmania on the southern coast of Australia to the front row of every major fashion show. With a passion for clothes that began in high school as a means of distinguishing herself from her peers (despite already being the only Asian kid in her neighborhood), it was her gift for finding unique pieces in vintage shops that gave her a noticeable edge, eventually leading to her current gig as a social media influencer. Attributing her laid-back aesthetic to her Australian upbringing, she veers toward minimal silhouettes and breathable fabrics while settling on a striking yet simple winged graphic liner as her signature look.

Tell us about your makeup routine.

I love having fresh and natural-looking skin, so I keep my makeup to a minimum. I don’t wear foundation every day and I’ll only use it as a spot treatment if I need it. For the rest of my face, I fill in my eyebrows using a gel pencil and apply peach blush to my cheeks and liquid illuminator to my cheekbones and underneath my eyebrows. Finally, I finish it off with a flesh- or peach-colored lipstick. For night, I use the same products, then I just enhance it by adding a winged eyeliner, a dramatic red or wine lip color, and increased coverage on my skin for event photos.

What are your beauty essentials?

Giorgio Armani Silk Foundation

This provides the perfect amount of coverage for my skin type. It doesn’t sit on the skin, so it makes it look natural and fresh.

Giorgio Armani Fluid Sheer

I use this as a highlighter, but sometimes I add this to my foundation to give my skin a beautiful glow at night.

Burberry Eye Gel Pencil

I love having full brows, and this eyebrow pencil glides on so easily, with the option to build with each layer for a more dramatic look.

Make Up Forever Gel Eyebrow Pencil

The best of the best eyeliner gel. It’s twice as opaque as any other I’ve tried and has incredible staying power.

Tom Ford Lipstick in Plum

For me, Tom Ford does the best lipsticks. They don’t bleed and feel nourishing and hydrating whilst still retaining a matte finish. Divine. 

Any beauty hacks you swear by?

If you’re going to invest in one key product, it should be a retinol or vitamin A. I use Define by Cosmedix and apply it nightly. It helps regenerate skin cells and boost collagen production, so every morning you wake up looking incredibly fresh!

“The more you allow your body to rest, the happier it will be and the more you will glow.”—Sharina Gutierrez

With the rise of models such as Liu Wen, Bhumika Arora, and Joan Smalls, it’s clear that the fashion world is increasingly embracing diversity. Riding the wave is fresh-faced Filipina Sharina Gutierrez, whose career has accelerated in the past year. While her body of work extends from campaigns to runway shows for brands like 3.1 Phillip Lim and Ralph Lauren, it’s her latest appearance in the September issue of Vogue that has anointed her as the one to watch. To keep up with her fast-paced, jet-setting lifestyle, she maintains her fresh, dewy look by having a non-complacent attitude towards beauty.

Tell us about your beauty routine.

When I wake up in the morning, I wash my face right away with Cetaphil’s Daily Facial Cleanser. I prep skin by washing it with warm water to open up my pores and rinse with very cold water to wake my face up. I always wear some kind of SPF—I like using Charlotte Tilbury’s Day Magic Cream with SPF. It makes for a good base and moisturizer under makeup. I hardly wear foundation but I make sure to have nicely shaped brows and bronzed cheeks. Every night before I go to bed, I wash my face thoroughly with warm water to open up my pores. After rinsing off the dirt from the day, I make sure to use my favorite face wash, Glam Glow’s Supercleanse Daily Clearing Cleanser. I rub it in thoroughly, specially around my nose and T-zone since that is where I sweat the most, and wash off with lukewarm water. Afterward, I use Charlotte Tilbury’s Magic Night Cream. It has a honey-like consistency, but as you rub it in, it warms up and hydrates the skin. If I have any blemishes, I use Clearasil’s Ultra Rapid Speed Blemish Ointment on top of the spots and let it work over night. I need my pores to be tight, so I use masks at least once a week. Glam Glow’s Mud Mask works wonders for me—I love the tingling effect right upon application. I leave it on for 20 minutes and my pores drastically minimize in size after just one use. Afterward, I hydrate with Charlotte Tilbury’s Magic Night Cream. 

What are your beauty essentials?

Face wash

I have two different products I love to use. For a more intense clean, I swear by Glam Glow Daily Mud Cleanser, which I use at night. My morning cleanser is Cetaphil Daily Facial Cleanser. 

Signature scent

I love these two products together: I apply Jo Malone Peony Blush Cream Lotion first and then spray Tom Ford White Suede fragrance. You will thank me for this. You’re welcome. 

Lip conditioner

Good ol’ Vaseline. For super chapped lips, I use a little Neosporin to soothe pain and it works quickly! 

Lotion

I use Cetaphil Daily Head to Toe Moisturizer after I shower. I can’t go a day without lotion. Nobody wants dry elbows and knees. That’s not cute. 

Water

The more water you drink, the more gunk is flushed out of your body. You will definitely see the difference on the skin, so I stay hydrated.

Any beauty hacks you swear by?

Sleep and nutrition. The more you allow your body to rest, the happier it will be and the more you will glow. I’ve noticed whenever I eat more greens and fruits, my skin tends to glow more. Trust me, I have a ton of cheat days and I definitely see the difference. It’s crazy what a few days of junk food can do to your skin. Mine tends to break out and reminds me that I need to get my butt back into my daily routine. I grew up with rice and oily food in every meal, so I make up for it now by eating healthy six days a week and allowing myself one cheat day.

“Eyelash extensions are God’s greatest gift to beauty.”—Emily Oberg

The New York-based half-Filipina is the creator of the elevated sportswear brand Sporty and Rich, a line that clearly reflects her lifestyle. Spend at least five seconds on her Instagram feed and it becomes evident that the word “sporty” comes from Oberg’s obsession with active wear that can easily transition from gym to office (where she works as the editor for Complex magazine) to Instagram (for her 183k followers to see) to the club (where she doubles as a DJ). But what about the “rich” part? She says it’s all about investing in luxe pieces with good design and impeccable tailoring to outlast frequent wash and wear, even if it means shelling out a bit more. Her preference for quality and multi-functionality can be observed in her beauty regimen as well.

Tell us about your beauty routine.

In the morning, I wash my face with Alba Hawaiian Pore Purifying Pineapple Enzyme Facial Cleanser. It’s gentle and smells great. Then I'll use RoC Multi Correxion Lift Anti-Gravity Day Moisturizer with SPF 30. It’s lightweight, not greasy, and I like products with SPF in them to prevent dark spots and aging. Then, I use La Mer’s Eye Concentrate. I’m obsessed with eye cream because I like my eyes to feel hydrated throughout the day. For makeup, I have eyelash extensions so I don’t need much at all. On my eyes, I use a simple black eyeliner on the bottom water line and smudge it into my top lash line, then I lightly fill in my brows with the Sanja Brow Bar pencil. In the summer, I love to use a cream blush. My favorite is Bobbi Brown’s Pot Rouge in Blushed Rose. For lips, I like a simple look and not much color. I use Fresh Sugar Lip Treatment in Honey or Dior Addict Lip Glow. At night, I wash my face with the same cleanser and use Bobbi Brown’s Face Oil followed by La Mer Eye Cream. Twice a week, I use Acure Organics Brightening Facial Scrub with Sea Kelp plus Chlorella Growth Factor to get rid of dead skin cells.

What are your beauty essentials?

La Mer Eye Concentrate

I’ve tried a number of products, but this one seems to be the fastest-absorbing and most effective when it comes to combatting puffiness, dark circles, and dryness.

Acure Organics Brightening Facial Scrub

My favorite skincare product because after I use it, my face feels so smooth, almost as if I just got microdermabrasion or a chemical peel. The scrub is all organic and it’s not too harsh; definitely the best exfoliating product I have ever tried.

Bobbi Brown’s Pot Rouge in Blushed Rose

Great for cheeks and lips and stays on all day. It’s easy to apply and adds an intense pop of color to your cheeks while still looking natural and not overdone.

Dior Addict Lip Glow

I first bought this because of the packaging. I’m obsessed with the baby pink color. I didn’t realize it would be the best lip gloss I’d ever use! The lip glow itself is clear but when it goes onto your lips, it reacts with your natural color and changes into a rosy pink. There’s a bit of shine, but it’s not sticky. It also tastes amazing, just like candy!

Maybelline Great Lash

This is a classic product and the best mascara I’ve ever tried. I’ve tried brand name ones, but they just don’t seem to do the job as well as this. I’ll use the Very Black color on my bottom lashes—it washes off easy and gives great length and volume.

Any beauty hacks you swear by?

Eyelash extensions! They are God’s greatest gift to beauty. I started getting them a year ago and haven’t stopped since. I used to hate layering on mascara and taking it off at night. Extensions are so easy and it takes me, like, 10 minutes to get ready now. People say they make the lashes fall out, but mine are still in good shape.

Originally published on L’Officiel Manila October 2016

Naiive Girl Learns Her First Lesson in Journalism

 When you’re plugging away at the task at hand, sometimes its hard to remember that things don’t occur in a vacuum. A vacuum you say?

 Yeah, that’s my new favourite saying. I can’t take credit for it actually, my year twelve history teacher coined the phrase. ‘History doesn’t occur in a vacuum” he would write on the whiteboard at the beginning of each term. Little did I know that this phrase would become my mantra almost two years later.

 Basically, it means nothing can be separate from outside influences and factors. The world is going on outside your bubble and different people have different intentions, perspectives and are affected by different circumstances. One thing I’ve learned from my first year of journalism is that as the story unfolds, you need to change along with it, be flexible and gain new perspectives as new facts arise to the surface. You need a thick skin and have to turn those negatives into positives. Okay, that was two things but you get my drift and this was what I had to do.

 I’m going to tell you the story about how my efforts to write a good story led to my first encounter with the public. All of a sudden I was my eleven year – old self again but this time it wasn't me whining to my mum about how cruel girls are. I was being ridiculed online by someone who I knew nothing about but they sure thought they knew me and went about making me feel small and inept. My clear intentions to gain a balanced argument were distorted and I felt I had to prove the impossible to someone that wouldn’t listen. I stumbled across something bigger than I had imagined would happen and consequently, for the first of many times that will happen in my life, I was made to feel inferior for being a woman, for being young and most importantly seeking truths.

 But this isn’t a rant, a clap-back or an expose; it's about not backing down, keeping my head up and going with my gut. It's about the risk and reward of putting yourself out there and trusting your instincts.

 So let’s get to the beginning, where my new and surprisingly keen interest in political reporting led me to the new government scheme called ‘Cashless welfare’. Ladies and gentlemen, cue the dream sequence and get ready for an insight into how the government is attempting to slap a big old hello kitty band-aid on drinking, drug use, and welfare recipients.

 Previously trialed in Ceduna and the Kimberley regions of South Australia, the cashless welfare scheme was made in an effort to control where people on Centrelink payments spend their money to combat drug, alcohol, and gambling in “problem areas”. What wasn't considered, however, was freedom of choice, punishment to those who are doing the right thing and the way the government has made a “quick fix” without directly addressing the problem. The card to be introduced in the wide bay region of Queensland in 2018, will see limited spaces in which recipients can spend their income with 80% only accessible on the card. Shoppers on welfare will not be able to shop online, go to bottle shops or make online payments. 

In theory, this seemed like a great way to ensure taxpayer money is not being wasted on substance abuse. However, this would be an application to all welfare recipients, including pensioners and people in rural areas who can only access vital things online. The more people I spoke to, the more stories I heard of disempowerment, the stigma they feel they are associated with as people who receive government assistance and punitive punishment. What about creating more jobs, directly addressing addiction and finding ways to stop drug and alcohol dependency without further isolating these people from the community? It all seemed so simply not right to me but I knew I was writing a story, and that would mean I needed to hear from the other side. So I sought it out, for proper journalistic inquiry.

 I can definitely say I had a romanticised image of a real underdog story in my head. I would give a voice to the voiceless, people would listen and change would happen. But this was politics and I found out the hard way that the media wasn't as squeaky clean as I was and soon I knew many people had been burnt before.

 Of course, I had heard the sayings, ‘All journalists are vultures’ etc., etc. but they didn't bother me because I would shoot back with “I’ll change that, you’ll see” and this is still something I truly believe. This is all well said and done, until you come across someone who’s been burnt before, doesn’t want to change their mind and quite frankly, doesn’t really care.

 Hey, I’m not going to hold it against him/her/whoever they are. History doesn't occur in a vacuum and I’ve learned (I know, shocker) that people who don’t agree with my opinion could be right. Hey, maybe there is not wrong and right, black or white.

 I got in contact with, let's call them Larry, like the name of the swollen gland I had on the side of my neck a few weeks ago. This Larry defintely was more a pain in my neck though. 

 I got into contact with Larry, who was behind a group of people who were fans of the cashless welfare card. I figured I need a story that evenly represents both sides. It didn’t matter what side I was leaning toward it mattered that both sides were evenly represented so the public could form their own opinion.

 I shot off my message and began with my little spiel.  “Hello I’m Georgie a journalism student from blah blah and would like to know your opinion on blah blah”. Larry got back to me in a very well-spoken and polite manner and I was positive he would teach me something and round out my story nicely. But when I wanted to know exactly who he was, what kind of demographic typically were for the policy and if I could speak with him over the phone, Larry got nasty.

 When he started to speak badly of journalists and was extremely hesitant to speak about much, I had a gut feeling and decided it was best to abandon this lead. As my uni friends would say jokingly ‘My journalism senses are tingling’ but this wasn’t in a good way. I backed off and stopped replying and I thought it ended there.

 Two days later, Larry sent me another message, this time asking if he could read my article. I felt really uneasy at this point as it was not intended for publication and as someone with a social media following, I knew it would be right in his hands. He could twist my words so I decided the best thing was to block him, move forward and not worry. After all, I had politicians, welfare recipients, and some great sources. It was disappointing but he wasn’t giving me anything and I tried to respect that.

It was one day before due date and ironically I had just returned from a talk with journalist Tracy Spicer who spoke about how women are made to feel intimidated and disempowered in the media industry. Little did I know I would get my first taste of that just hours later.

 I was walking into my consultation with my tutor when a message from one of my other interview subjects popped up on my phone. It was a screenshot of a post on a public page slamming me and my credibility. She wrote underneath the picture ‘Please explain’.  I re-read it four times before the gravity of the situation hit me.

 The post supposedly was warning others about my credibility and questioned my honesty and integrity. It pulled me down peg, by peg with language such as ‘little miss’ and “supposed aspiring journalist”. My last name was there for all to see, there were threats to contact my university and more people who knew nothing about me were accusing me of feeding information that I did not have, to people I did not know! He wanted to attack me and my credibility for asking him questions? I couldn’t fathom why someone would not believe that I was trustworthy. I couldn’t pull my self away for a second and see that from his side, I could have looked just a sketchy as he did. But then I thought, emotions are running high, around this issue and with the help of my tutor as I used up tissue after tissue in her office, Larry gave me the greatest gift, a better story.

 Would I really let someone whoever they are, intimidate me from behind the keyboard? Twisting my words, saying that they ‘smelled a rat’ when I was just trying to do my job? When I was willing to hear them out.  No, because that's exactly what they wanted. I pulled my shoulders back, walked out of the office with a new purpose and used what I had to tell an even greater story. The gravity of the way that people were responding to this policy, how they got nasty, or even how they were willing to speak about it with such passion told me that this was an important story to tell.

 “Use this” one of my tutors told me when I sat there, determined that I needed to scrap the story altogether. This was what it was all about and I am so glad that I became aware of the outside factors that will creep in and try and tell me I can’t do something because of who I am or call me names over the internet, to my face or wherever. I’m ready, bring it on year two, come at me all of my career.

 “Tell him to go F*** himself,” my other tutor said.

 So in less harsh language, thanks for the High Distinction Larry.

 Love,

“Little Miss Honesty and Integrity”