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redhawtriot · 4 years

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Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.

I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me.

HnM 💕

Tag-list: @steggy4ever @library-trash @watevermelon @glimmadora-ble @persephones24 @dragonempress123 @your-pri-ncess @broken-from-fandoms @hot-pocket01 @tsukineho

Month 1, Month 3

--Month 2--

No.

You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.

However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.

No. No. No!

The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.

“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet.

Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.

How could this happen? How could you be… pr...

A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.

Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.

You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.

Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.

Well, excluding his rippling muscles.

You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.

You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!

With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.

But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Swollen eyes.

Red nose.

Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.

“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.

The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’

The little shits.

“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.

Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:

Boss Lady

[2:50 pm]

Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.

Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.

Think. Thin.

No carbs. No red meats.

NO ALCOHOL!!!

Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.

Kimi:

[3:31 pm]

Hope you made it home safe last night!

As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone,

Boss Lady

[4:45 pm]

Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.

You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.

Tomorrow. 5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)

Inches! Inches! Inches!

You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.

Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.

Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?

When do people even start ‘showing’?

You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.

Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?

You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.

Or damn kids for that matter.

Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?

To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.

Until now.

After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

You paused.

Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.

That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…

Shit.

Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.

But not even they could save you now.

Fuck you really were alone.

That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.

So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?

The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.

The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.

Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.

Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.

“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression.

“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”

His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”

“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.

“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”

You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.

“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”

Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I… didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”

His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--

“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,

“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,

Shit! What the fuck were you doing?

You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible.

“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled.

From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.

You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’

He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.

In fact.

As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.

One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”

“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,

“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again,

Deku:

[1:00 pm]

Good Luck on your runway thing today!

You:

More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨

Deku:

I could help? Bring comfort snacks?

You:

Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB

You would literally be stampeded by women

Wait that sounded too good🤔

You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***

Deku:

You haven’t been eating?!

Since when?!

You:

That’s not what I said.

Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️

Deku:

Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.

I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!

If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,” Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.

You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.

You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.

“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.

Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”

All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”

Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.

You:

[1:33pm]

I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪

Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?”

You hadn’t even notice that you had been.

Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it.

But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.

Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act.

You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?

The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi.

You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent.

The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.

“W-what sizing you up?!”

You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”

“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”

The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.

“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use.

You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.

“No. That’s not what I meant I—”

“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,

“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him.

“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”

Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,

“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.

“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”

“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”

“Y/N!”

“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did.

“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin.

You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”

“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”

You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.

“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”

You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self.

Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.

His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”

“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.

“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly.

“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.

He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century.

Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”

Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze,

“Wha...?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”

“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you?

“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock.

“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor?”

“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?

“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”

“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”

“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you.

“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”

He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...

The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.

Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed? Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.

Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.

It made things extremely real.

Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party.

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK*

When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?

The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so.

Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.

The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all, “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”

A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves.

“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”

“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself.

“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...” You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.

“Agency? Hero agency?”

“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.

Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that

Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time!

He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).

What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?

“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,

“What the hell are you doing, round face?”

Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust.

It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest.

But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,

“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.

He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.

As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard.

“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”

The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze.

“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”

“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully.

“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer.

“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.

“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued, “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”

“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”

“You just live your life like normal!”

“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”

Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.

You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.

As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.

“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!

“Just really damn tired suddenly.”

“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”

“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house,

“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”

You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape.

You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away.

Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--

“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you.

You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift.

“We need to talk!”

One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway.

“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed.

That’s when it hit you.

“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization,

“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.

Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.

With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academi #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagine #mha imagines

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Why Tom Holland Was Terrified of Playing a Bank Robber in Cherry

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All of a sudden Tom Holland is everywhere. He’s got two movies out right now–the sci-fi thriller Chaos Walking and the drug/crime drama Cherry–and the latter is making its premiere on Apple TV+ this weekend after a limited run in theaters. He also recently wrapped production on the long-developing adaptation of the Uncharted video game franchise, and he’s currently working with director Jon Watts again on their third standalone Spider-Man adventure together, Spider-Man: No Way Home.

In Cherry, based on the best-selling semi-autobiographical novel by Nico Walker, Holland stars as the title character, a young Cleveland man who joins the Army after his girlfriend (Ciara Bravo) announces she is going away to college. He returns home from Iraq with PTSD, develops an opioid addiction, and eventually turns to bank robbery to support his habit.

The often harrowing film is directed by Anthony and Joe Russo, making it the first motion picture directed by the Cleveland-born brothers since 2019’s Avengers: Endgame. Cherry marks Holland’s fourth collaboration with the Russos, following Endgame, Captain America: Civil War (2016), and Avengers: Infinity War (2018), but his first time working with them without a superhero costume.

Cherry is also one of two recent movies, the other being last year’s grim The Devil All The Time, in which the British actor steps away from his generally sunny, innocent demeanor to take on a darker, more tormented character. We touched on that, working with the Russos, researching the world of addiction, and more–including little nuggets on No Way Home and Uncharted–when we hopped on Zoom recently with the young Mr. Holland.

Den of Geek: What did you respond to in the character of Cherry, as well as the script? What was your emotional and visceral response to his story?

Tom Holland: I think my initial response was that I was terrified of the idea of playing this character. It’s the type of role I’ve definitely never done before, and I was a little sort of apprehensive and questioned whether I could do it. Knowing that the Russo brothers were going to be there to support me through the job is what kind of tipped me over the edge into saying yes. But my initial response was, “I don’t think I’m the right person for this job because I don’t know if I can do that.”

You probably had a level of trust established with the Russos from working on the three Marvel pictures you did together. Did that make you feel comfortable right away?

Yeah. Absolutely. Still, I had that element of awe when it came to the Russos because they were the directors of the Avengers films, and I was still very much the new kid on the block when I was making those films. It was really nice for me to get to know them both on a more personal level and, obviously, that level of trust grew as the film progressed. It grew and it grew and it grew, and it’s now to the point where Joe and Anthony could ring me up, and I would be on set for them in a heartbeat. The trust between the three of us definitely grew.

How is their style of directing different on this? Was there more of a personal rapport because of the fact that they’re not dealing with the same kind of visual effects as in the Marvel movies or servicing 50 different characters?

I felt a little spoiled to be honest, because I was getting their utmost attention. But I mean, their direction style didn’t change in the way that they spoke to people, in the way that they addressed people, in the way that they treated people on set. But the style in which they would use the camera or the way they would get you to portray or work in a certain scene is very different because, obviously, it’s a very different type of film.

But from a logistical standpoint of how they made the film, they were basically the same two guys, just having fun. It’s nice to see two people who are so in love with cinema just having a good old play and figuring it out as they go along.

Was it interesting and maybe refreshing for you to do a film where you’re not in the Spider-Man suit for so much of the movie, and you’re not acting against a green screen?

Absolutely. Working on green screen and blue screens and wearing a spandex Spider-Man suit is amazing, and it’s awesome and I love it, but there’s something freeing about everything on set is what is in the shot, what is in the story. I don’t have to imagine anything, because everything is a tangible asset and is right there in front of me. It’s a different process, and I love both equally. But it was nice to kind of have a change of pace and dive into something a little bit smaller.

How was it working with Ciara on her first feature film? Was it easy to establish the rapport with her?

We were so lucky with Ciara. I remember when I watched her audition tape, when the boys had cast her, and they sent it to me just to say, “By the way, this is the girl who’s going to play Emily,” for the first time in my career, I was so intimidated. She just has this gravitas that she brought to the character in her take that was so amazing.

I was really excited to work with her and I was really happy when I found out that her and I were very similar and had a lot in common. We became very, very good friends, which was so valuable for us, because this film was such a difficult film to make, physically and emotionally. The fact that we got along so well meant that we could help each other through the process. She was like my emotional support person, and I was hers, and it was great. We were a little team.

Do you take a role like this, or something like The Devil All the Time, knowing that these are going to not just challenge you as an actor, but show a whole different side of you to an audience that maybe only knows you as Spider-Man?

I love playing Spider-Man, and I think it comes with its own set of challenges. I think sometimes people overlook that superhero films do require performance, a character arc, building up a backstory, an objective of where you want to go. It’s just these films are very different. They’re very different in style, but they’re not very different in the way that you make them. The process of making a film is pretty similar. They just spend less money, and it’s less blue screen. But, yeah. I enjoyed the sort of creative freedom of making a film a little bit darker.

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By Alec Bojalad

Did you get to meet and talk with Nico Walker? I know you did meet with some people with addiction problems, as well as some veterans.

I’ve never actually met with Nico. We were supposed to meet a few weeks ago, but for some reason, our schedules kind of got a bit jumbled up, and we couldn’t get together. But I hope to meet him. He’s obviously the one person that I’m really nervous about watching the film, because we took a portion of his life, and we turned it into this piece of art, and I hope it’s something that he likes.

But we did loads of research when it came to speaking to veterans and people suffering from PTSD and substance abuse, and it was so valuable in the making of this film, because I couldn’t have made this an authentic experience for the audience without having that information from those people. I’m very grateful that the men and women I spoke to were very open to talk about the things that they’d been through, which were sometimes very harrowing.

What did you learn that maybe you hadn’t known before and were able to apply to the part?

Wow. I could go on and on. I think one of the biggest things for me that helped drive a lot of the motivation in the scene was that once you’re hooked on heroin, all you can think about is getting more heroin. It was a really good kind of catalyst to tell these stories authentically. I think that was one of the most valuable things I took away from my research.

What was the most physically challenging aspect of the shoot?

The most physically demanding portion of the film was dope life, when I was losing all the weight, and I was skinny, and I was having to starve myself. And robbing the banks was tiring, because I was so weak from being so skinny and frail, I guess. So that would easily be the more physically demanding aspect of the film.

Apple TV+

You also play this character as he ages over 15 years. Is it fair to say this is the first time you’ve actually played a character who’s aged over that kind of span of time?

Absolutely. On The Lost City of Z, a James Gray film I did, there was quite a large progression in age, but I was no way the lead of that film. A lot of my stuff sort of happened off camera. Obviously in Cherry, you are with this character from the beginning to the end. That meant that I had to do a lot of the growing on screen, and it was difficult. It was tricky, because trying to play older, to me, felt very fake. That’s where I was so lucky to have my amazing makeup artist, Rachael Speke. She did a wonderful job of aging me up throughout the course of the film.

It was difficult, and I just had to trust the Russos and that they knew what they wanted and they were happy with what they were getting. But it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to do.

Is that something that you would like to apply to other characters? As you continue to play Spider-Man, would you like to see him age a little more noticeably, if it’s appropriate?

Yeah. Peter Parker is a character that everyone knows and loves. It would be really interesting to sort of find a side to him that people haven’t seen before. Whether or not we do that, I don’t know.

What can you say about Spider-Man: No Way Home in terms of how it expands the MCU and how it evolves Peter’s character?

Well, there’s not really much I can say, obviously. What I can say is that I’m having the time of my life making it. It’s so fun being back with Jacob [Batalon] and Zendaya, and [director] Jon Watts. The film is incredibly ambitious, and I’m delighted to say that we’re succeeding in making it. It’s going really well. We watched a fight scene that we had shot a few weeks ago, and I’ve never seen a fight scene quite like it in the MCU. I’m really excited for audiences to see that.

You also just recently wrapped Uncharted. What do you think people will see in that if they’re not fans of the video game?

Well, an interesting idea and one that I really think lends itself to our film, is that when you watch a video game film–if you’re a fan of the games–I often wonder, “Why would you watch the film?” Because it’s less immersive. You can go and be that character. Why would I just want to watch that character?

But what we’ve got is we’re telling the prequel story of how the character, Nathan Drake, became this worldwide known character. For the fans that love the games, they’re getting an aspect of the story that they’ve never seen before. And the people that haven’t played the games are getting a really nice introduction to a character. It kind of works for everyone.

It’s a really fun film, and the action is amazing, easily some of the coolest action I’ve done so far. I had a lovely chat with Tom Rothman, the chairman of Sony, he saw the film, and he’s over the moon with it. If the boss man is happy, then everyone is happy. We’re really good.

Cherry premieres on Apple TV+ on Friday, March 12.

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fwoopersongs · 3 years

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何必诗债换酒钱 - Notes

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Clean version here and thoughts under the cut.

I saw the song translation notes made by @shelterfromrain a while back and thought, wow! what a fantastic idea it is to share the results of the rabbit holing (that you inevitably end up engaging in when doing this) and leave a record for your future self while at it too! Currently some of the song and poetry translations on fwoopersongs do have little notes, but those were casually written on the fly and after so long, the thought process behind certain choices often get forgotten, which is such a waste... Long story short - I’m doing it this way from now on!

This song was requested by @peerlesssqq on twitter - which may or may not have bumped it up by like a year on my list (yes, I’ve been sitting on it since 2018 and you’ll see why) - and I had WAY more fun than expected, so 谢啦 ~ It was a delight to receive your DM request. I was happy for days!

Some background: 《何必诗债换酒钱》 is the theme song of 【文定乾坤】- a collection of musical works that feature notable contributors to Chinese literature in ancient times, poets and the like. Oh, and I did notice that the MV on bilibili looks like it could be a promo for a webtoon or game. Who knows? I’ll be checking out the rest of the songs, that’s for sure!

The following part of this post will be my thoughts for first the title, then each section - the intro, verse 1 & 2 and the chorus, ending off with some final comments.

Disclaimer first though (otherwise later you read already then feel like beating me up): Everything in this post is only my interpretation of the song. I have quite limited familiarity with mainland literature and culture, so of course don’t expect much xD Here you’ll only find a story-loving banana who jiak-ed kantang too much in her youth and now regrets it a whole lot. 说好了哈 I’m pants at analysis, worse at Chinese, and am not at all good with words ok?

Title

So《何必诗债换酒钱》, let’s start off with the word here that’s unfamiliar to most of us:

诗债 | shī zhài or a debt of poems/poetry debt is a legit thing! - All you authors and artists out there might be familiar with it - It’s what you call the resulting debt when a poet promises to write something for another person but hasn’t done it yet. Procrastination has apparently always been the curse of content creators.

In fact, in the Bai Juyi’s poem that came up on the 诗债 baidu page《晚春欲携酒寻沉四著作先以六韵寄之》- possibly addressed to a friend he owes - he was complaining of illness, old age and writer’s block. But then oh, he goes on and then I passed by a party where they had drinks, and was quite up to my gills & totally out of it for some time, and THAT’S why I’ve done you dirty and owe you ever so many poems. I don’t really understand the last two lines but apparently he then offers to bring a drink for this person he’s talking to, mentions a wish to meet a winter goddess (????? pretty girl? or the snow? idk which), and starts reminiscing the times that were like a precious string of pearls they had singing at Yang Pass. Most likely farewells, but without context I just don’t get it. Anyway bribery and misdirection huh? I see what you did there bro, and I’m sure the person you attempted to distract saw it coming too...

何必 | hé bì, is a rhetorical question of Must you really? In the case of this word, 何 functions as roughly ‘is it that’ and 必 as ‘it must be so’.

换酒钱 | huàn jiǔ qián is of course, exchange for money to purchase wine.

‘Must you really promise poems in exchange for money to buy wine?’ then is the literal translation of 何必诗债换酒钱.

So here is the question: Is alcohol worth a poetry debt? Onwards to the answer!

Intro

生就诗骨算来三百篇 Born and already a poet to the bones, (with) three hundred works counting up to now.

浪掷秦淮长安风流李杜王白 Spending lavishly in Qinhuai and Chang’an, free/unrestrained as Li and Du, Wang and Bai;

余下十分便随意肩上担 whatever left is divided in ten parts, casually thrown over a shoulder

权作金玉铜板相谢好人间 and taken for jade, gold and coin, a big thank you to this good world!

I interpreted the 生 in the first line as 天生 i.e. innate, natural born talent, so this first line describes someone born with a gift for poetry with ‘three hundred’ works to their name. Although... that three hundred should not be taken too literally, it’s more likely to be an allusion to collected works like the 16th century anthology of poems, Three Hundred Tang Poems. After all, Li Bai, Du Fu, Wang Wei and Bai Juyi are the most famous Tang Dynasty poets… and they were all name-dropped in the next line!

浪掷 | làng zhì was a new phrase for me, and means something like spending freely and lavishly or willfully wasted. Of course Chang’an was the capital during the Tang Dynasty and it was the world's most populous city at the time. One can only imagine how prosperous it must have been… and what fun things were there to spend your money on! The banks of Qinhuai river and that general area was once a gathering place for noble/wealthy families, scholars looking for a good time (and some say, the red light district xD). Though by Sui/Tang, that area was no longer doing as well due to political shifts. So the mental image I got from 浪掷秦淮长安 is of someone gallivanting through places of interest, from the bustling and prosperous to the dilapidated.

风流 | fēng liú is as always, hard to translate with no full equivalent in english. The feel it gives me ranges from, ‘cool, dashing bloke on a galloping horse with their cloak/robes/hair flowing elegantly in the wind’ to ‘pleasure seeking dandy who totally knows how to enjoy life, all the courtesans know him by courtesy name!’.

The third line started with 余下十分, which will not make any sense - why leftover? Divide what by ten? - until its put in context with the following:

Three hundred poems 算来三百篇 + 权作金玉铜板 pretend they are gold/jade/money (权作 | quán zuò just means to take one thing for another temporarily.)

The load thrown over the shoulder 肩上担

Spendthrift behaviour on tour 浪掷秦淮长安

The TITLE: bro so u wanna promise poetry in exchange for money to drink? why.

Let’s take those precious poems that can be exchanged for gold - a whole bagful of scrolls, and now I’m so rich I can scatter my money down the streets of entertainment districts and the capital! The very image of a 风流 poet, reckless and free spirited.

// Folks, please learn from this silly girl and do not read songs (or poems) line by line. They need to be appreciated at a distance, not one inch from your eyeballs.

Verse 1

两分与月劳烦身前打点 Two parts to the moon, (may I) trouble you to take care of me while I’m alive.

哪处巍峨峰峦当借我悬来观 Wherever there are majestic peaks and ranges, do lend me (your light) to hang and see by.

三分典高楼好与长风赴宴 Three parts pawned for the tall building, good for attending the banquet alongside the wind,

遍寻可爱星子唾手一把玩 searching for charming little stars, easily caught to play with.

Now we get to see how the poet is spending his ‘wealth’. This verse is a lot more literal as compared to the introduction, so there’s not much to say.

打点 used here is so interesting! Because it’s what you call bribing someone in a superior position to smoothen your path ahead (so to speak). Thanks to a childhood of tvb drama, I vaguely associate the type of people who would 打点 with rich merchant or minor noble fathers who want to give their sons an easier time at court. Either that or lower ranked officials with less moral scruples. Anyway, what’s being said in the song is something like: here is 20% dear moon, I’ll have to trouble you to bless me for the rest of this lifetime, and also please lend me your light to see by when I have need of it at scenic spots *for art*. The moon is a muse for many poets in all its forms after all… 明月, 圆月, 孤月, 残月, 冷月, 江月, 秋月 and so on.

Actually that whole sentence 劳烦身前打点 is so playful and fun that I put it in quotation marks to emphasize it. We’ve only just begun. Is the speaker already drunk?

And with the third line, 30% has been spent. Just noting here that 典 | diǎn can be read as pawn or mortgage. Another interesting thing to note would be that this imagery of ascending a tall building 高楼 and reaching out for stars 星子 in the last two lines of Verse 1 brings to mind one particular poem, famously attributed to Li Bai. Following translation by yours truly.

《夜宿山寺》- Overnight at the Mountain Temple 危楼高百尺 | dangerously towering a hundred feet high 手可摘星辰 | the stars are within reach 不敢高声语 | one dares not raise their voice 恐惊天上人 | for fear of disturbing the deities

Though the two probably have nothing to do with each other, doesn’t the reverence in the tone of this one bring out the playful irreverence of the other? So. Much. Fun. I adore the whole feel of 遍寻可爱星子唾手一把玩 SO MUCH.

Verse 2

两分与桥歇脚南北行船 Two parts to the bridge where travellers on foot and by boat from the north and south can rest,

欣然八方风物闲话半日茶碗 delighted by the scenery all around, idly chatting half the day away over bowls of tea.

三分典流水润色枯瘦石山 Three parts for the running water, moistening the gaunt stone mountains

又将天地一展伸手试浓淡 and again spreading heaven and earth wide, reaching out to test the viscosity (of the water).

It took a few listens, but in the end I really enjoyed the aesthetics here. And again, this verse is quite straight to the point albeit with two things I cannot understand.

The first point of confusion for me is why the lyricist chose to use 桥 | qiáo, a bridge as the place for people to rest on their journeys. I assumed here that this in reference to a pier or dock, assumed also that he is donating funds for this structure to be built or repaired. However, if that were the case 坞 | wù would have been enough - 船坞 was supposedly invented only in the Song Dynasty though, so maybe that’s why another word was chosen. But it’s not like there is any incidence of 桥 being used to mean ‘dock’ either!

The second thing that confuses me is the use of 典 for 流水. In verse one, that 典 was referring to the poetry works sold to reserve the venue for a banquet. That usage was apt. Here I suspect it might be for parallel structure, because there is no alternative reading for 典 that might allow one to use their 30% 三分 to do anything to flowing water 流水. That’s the literal reading, of course.

If we’re taking this a little less literally, it can be interpreted as borrowing the scenery (figuratively, since the place would not belong to anyone in the way you might own a property) to admire. It also expands on the second line’s mention of the surrounding view 欣然八方风物; there is running water which completes 润色 and brings the appearance of the gaunt and rocky mountains 枯瘦石山 closer to perfection.

润色 | rùn sè means to polish, to bring to greater heights. When you say something has been 润色 it is made more brilliant and closer to perfection by that addition. It can also mean moisten.

We always hear ‘rivers and mountains like a painting’ 江山如画 - originating from Su Dongpo’s《念奴娇·赤壁怀古》- used when the scenery is wonderful, because how often is real life as ideal as what we can imagine and depict? And that is exactly what is described here. The feeling out if the ‘water’ is concentrated or diluted 试浓淡 is used in answer to 一展 unfurling. 浓淡 of ink to 一展 of painting scroll. The land and sky seem like an ink wash painting, so beautiful that the viewer cannot help but reach out to run their hand through the water.

Chorus

Chorus Part 1

若趁游兴直到酣 If we take advantage of our wanderlust and go roaming till it is sated,

千字文章不值钱 classics and essays shan’t be worth a coin.

诗换花词换雪 A poem for a flower! A song for snow!

再作檄文斗天官 Another denunciation for those heavenly officials!

Starting off with three new terms for me: 游兴 | yóu xìng means enthusiasm for travel. 酣 | hān can mean having a great time drinking, or being very satisfied and satiated. 檄文 | xí wén is a type of official document written for important announcements, declaration of war, or denunciation and condemnation of certain people or actions.

While I still feel this need to go out to see the world, I shall keep on the road until I am satisfied. Who cares about writing, who cares for study, it’s all worthless to me. I do what I want. And what I want is to write a little poem in exchange for a flower, some lyrics for a flake of snow. I’ll even write a denunciation against those officials in heaven (immortals). Fight me!!!!

I point again at Verse 1 with climbing the tower to play with stars. It’s no longer just playing nearby, now he wants a go at the gods.

Among the four parts of the chorus, this one is the simplest for sure. The lines mean exactly what is said. It also feels the most chaotic and mischievous. Is the speaker drunk? Is he high on something? One thing’s for sure. He’s out of money.

Chorus Part 2

何愁不得一样我 Why feel troubled that (I) cannot have another just like me?

知交尽向话中添 for one who understands you and is understood, look entirely towards stories to fill that place

唐解元嵇中散 people like Tang Bohu (first in provincial examinations) and proud, upright and stubborn Ji Kang

且驰大梦任疯癫 Just chase that great dream, allow yourself to go mad.

I feel like the first two lines are quite straightforward, though they might not appear so on first reading: How could there be a need to feel sad or troubled that I have no like-minded equal. To find a true friend who understands you without need for words, and whom you understand in return, all you need to do is turn to those tales and stories 话中 for people to fill 添 that place.

唐解元 - People like Tang Yin, courtesy name: Bohu 唐寅, 字伯虎 (1470–1524 AD), noted painter, calligrapher and poet of the Ming Dynasty. Tang Yin led a life full of ups and downs that really cannot be covered in a paragraph’s worth of song translation notes. You can check out his wiki page if you’re curious though! There’s a little more on him where I cover the last line of this section. He is addressed as 解元 | jiè yuán here which is the term for the top scorer of the provincial examinations (second stage in the Imperial examination ladder). It is also an honorific for scholars. Tang Bohu is both.

嵇中散 - People like Ji Kang, courtesy name: Shuye 嵇康, 字叔夜, (223–262 AD), one of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove - a group of friends who wisely kept themselves aloof from the dangerous politics of the Court, and devoted themselves to art, refinement and debate, of the Three Kingdoms period. He was a Daoist philosopher, musician, writer and poet.

An accomplished musician, the qin composition 廣凌散 | guǎnglíng sàn is attributed to Ji Kang, though some versions of the story claim he learned it from a ghost while stopping at a pavillion on his way home. 嵇中散 was one of the names he was known by because of his appointment to the position of Attendant Counsellor, 中散大夫 | zhōng sàn dàfū, a civil official unspecified duties in the court of Cao Wei.

When Ji Kang was sentenced to death for his attempt to testify for a wrongly accused friend, three thousand scholars petitioned for his pardon to no avail. It’s said that at the execution ground, while they waited for the appointed hour, he had his favourite qin brought out and played a brilliant interpretation of Guanglin San that is now forever lost.

Do go read about them both if you have the time!

I would like to point out for the last line that 任 is to allow, to indulge, and it’s just such a heady sensation to say 任疯癫 - indulge in the madness! throw yourself in and don’t look back!

There is an easter egg here too. A nod to a poem by Tang Yin which can be read as his stance on his lifestyle choice after the alleged accusations of bribery in the final step of the Imperial examinations left him disgraced, and unable to pursue a civil career. Thematically the line does not call back to the poem at all, similarities end with the choice of words: chasing the dream 驰大梦 and indulging madness 任疯癫. I leave an excerpt below. Translation again by me.

《桃花庵歌》- Song of a Plum Blossom Cottage // 若将花酒比车马 | if tawdriness and wine were compared against fine carriage and steed 他得驱驰我得闲 | he would have to drive and work hard for speed whilst I have my idle rest 别人笑我太疯癫 | others mock me for my madness 我笑他人看不穿 | i am amused for they do not perceive 不见五陵豪杰墓 | can’t you see that at the Emperors’ mausoleums and heroes’ graves 无花无酒锄做田 | there are no flowers, no wine, only land ploughed for farming

The second part of the chorus isn’t related to the first, but it has the same theme of showcasing the untamable (unhinged xD) spirit of the speaker. This time, the people he admires ‘intellectual equals’ and kindred spirits are featured, the 任性 feeling here has been pushed to greater heights.

Chorus Part 3

敢夸洒落何须酒 If one dares to boast of carefreeness, why, they hardly need wine.

不煮黄粱也称仙 Even without brewing millet they would still be called Immortal.

镜湖桌白梅盏 The tables in the mirror-like lake, white plum blossoms in the cups,

等来春风恰开宴 await the spring breeze which arrives just in time for the feast to start!

Li Bai is regarded as both the god of poetry 诗仙 and god of drunkards wine 酒仙 because he wrote some of his greatest poems while drinking. The first two lines seem to be gently poking fun at that. Like hey, if you dare to claim to be all groovy, surely you have no need for alcohol? Just like how an immortal would still be an immortal without wine, your writing talent should not need any stimulants. This would be the time to mention that 黄粱 | huáng liáng is also known as millet, a type of grain that can be used to brew wine.

洒落 | sǎ luò has a few meanings, like shower down or blame, but the relevant one here would be 洒脱 generous, uninhibited and open. For me it feels similar to 风流 in that there is that ‘free, and exhilaratingly unrestrained’ element. 洒落 is in the most positive sense, being always open to having a good time, but without that dissolute or vaguely whirlwind-romance like connotation of 风流.

It feels like the intensity is letting up a little here - this is a light-hearted and frivolous song all the way through, but the words 洒落, 称仙 and imagery of a clear lake, white plum blossoms and the crisp spring breeze are grounding and sweet. Spirited in a different way from before.

Chorus Part 4

四角天地也醺然 The four corners and heaven and earth are also tipsy,

醉极自有桃李搀 when I’ve overindulged, my students will be there to help.

快意只笔下讨 Gratification can only be claimed from beneath the brush;

何必诗债换酒钱 is falling into poetry debt worth that money for drink?

New words: 醺然 | xūn rán just means drunk. A new word for me though! 桃李 | táo lǐ is literally peach 桃 and plum 李 (李花, also known as 玉梅) flowers, and is a metaphor for students. The term originates from a story in 《韩诗外传》which was set in the Wei Kingdom of the Spring and Autumn period (771 to 476 BCE). There was once a highly ranked official who was sacked from his post and left for the north. He met another gentleman and remarked that the people he helped before did not lift a finger when he was in need. This person replied that, if someone were to plant peach and plum trees in spring, he could relax under their shade in the Summer and taste their fruit in the Autumn. But if that person were to plant weeds, nothing can be done with their leaves in Spring and there would only be burrs to hurt himself on in Autumn. Clearly the people the unfortunate gentlemen had helped before were not worth his effort. Students ought to be carefully selected and carefully cultivated as one would a tree.

Reading the four corners and heaven and earth 四角天地 are also tipsy 也醺然, I imagine the world sort of spinning around the speaker because he is drunk. But that’s okay, because his students (or the trees xD) will be there to support him.

快意 | kuài yì is the feeling of sudden relaxation, and then lightheartedness and joy. In this line, I felt like the intention would be closer to 畅快，爽快 and so chose gratification, because really writing is like scratching an itch isn’t it? Pleasure from satisfaction of a desire. Phrasing it as 笔下讨 is so very fitting though, because 讨 can be interpreted - somewhat contradicting - as either to demand or to beg. What could be more gratifying than having squeezed out the perfect sentence or word under your figurative pen?

So so so after all that, 何必诗债换酒钱? What do you think, is alcohol worth the poetry debt? Is Mr. Poet actually drunk and about to dig himself a deeper hole of owed poems to get even MORE drunk, or has he just been thinking about it all along? :)

Thoughts

This has been such a fun adventure following our madcap big spender from the shining Chang’an to the inviting Qinhuai, shadow of great poets in tow and all. We’ve done everything from talking to the moon and seeing the sights by her light, to boating down a river, dragging fingers through the water. It was sort of like being on a backpacking tour, except with with someone contemplating opening (or perhaps regretting opening this can of worms?) poetry commissions instead of singing in the streets?

Dear reader, if you’ve reached this point of my post, thank you. I hope you enjoy the song as much as I do now!

#何必诗债换酒钱 #translation notes #i made a new years resolution and this is step one #i had so many more things to say lol but it's like 1 am and i need to go to bed #this took way longer than i thought it might

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rogerthat-taylor · 5 years

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Numbers on Flyers (Roger Taylor x Reader x Ben Hardy One Shot)

Summary: You were flatmates with Roger and one evening, while meticulously duplicating flyers for Queen’s upcoming gig, he picked up the phone and heard another boy, Ben, asking to speak to you. For the first time ever, in your decade-long friendship with Roger, he was undoubtedly jealous.

Warnings: None

Words: 1.3K+

A/N: I was inspired to write this back when Roger posted a flyer he had made for one of Queen’s gig back when they were starting out. This has been in my archive since then but I never really got to go back to it until now. Also... I kinda did an overly ambitious thing whereby I kinda imagined the other guy to be Ben Hardy so we’ve really got the best of both worlds here iDk but yeah. There's meant to be a part 2 to this but let’s see.

“Where’s Brian?” You grunted while you stood one-legged by the door trying to kick off your shoes.

You were exasperated from a long day of back to back lectures and beyond relieved to be home even if home referred to a grotesquely unkempt flat and an empty fridge all of which can be expected for you shared the flat with two university boys. It was either this or an overpriced tiny dorm shared with a complete stranger. Besides, Roger had been a dear friend since childhood, perks of having a neighbour who was the same age of you growing up, and Brian - well, Brian had always been a delight dating back to your very first introduction to one another upon hearing his interest in sharing the flat.

“He’s doing a project at someone else’s” replied Roger, barely looking up from what he was doing to acknowledge your presence, “God knows when he’ll be back.”

You nodded as you trudged towards the table he was at, curious as to what he was so engrossed in that he failed to say a decent hello or some sort of greeting.

“You’ve got an exam coming up?” you questioned right before your brain could process what was on the table.

His usual pile of books and files where nowhere to be seen rather, the table was scattered with loose leaf of papers identical to one another. Some of which seemed to have been organised and separated. This was all very curious because it almost looked as if he had been doing an art project.

“Nope, exams were last week,” he replied, eyes still glued to what he was doing. One hand on the paper, the other wrapped around a marker as he slowly and very meticulously wrote on a fresh white paper, “We’ve got a gig coming up next week. Could you pass me that paper over there?”

He finally looked up but only to point at the stack of papers at the corner of the table you were standing at. You obliged, taking the paper that was on top of the others.

"Not that one," he said, "that one."

"Thank you," you chuckled cynically, "The whole pointing to one group of papers is really helping out."

"Yes! That one!" He said when your hand grazed on one of the many papers. You pulled it out from the pile only to find that it was identical to everything else but not according to Roger who took it from you without any form of gratification and proceeded with adding onto it.

"Loving the whole attitude, Rog," you rolled your eyes making your way to the kitchen, in hopes of finding anything edible when the house phone rang.

Roger jumped up and sprang to the phone as if he was expecting a call.

"Hello?"

Empty; just like your stomach, the fridge had been empty of food just as you dreaded.

"Y/N," Roger called out, "The call's for you!"

Surprised, you head out to Roger to find him frustrated.

"Why is there a boy calling?" he mouthed as you took the phone from him.

You shrugged, "Hello?"

"Y/N!" greeted Ben, the boy you took Linguistics with, "I was wondering if you if you were free next Wednesday evening? I'd like to take you up on that dinner I promised."

"Next Wednesday?" you voiced out to Roger in hopes that he would gather enough to understand that you had been subtly asking him if they had a gig that night.

He shook his head and mouthed, "No, you can't that night."

"I'm afraid I'm not, how about Thursday night-"

He shook his head yet again, "Nope."

"Wait, I'm sorry, I meant Frid-"

"No-"

"Okay, look, Ben," you cut Ben off for the umpteenth time, "Why don't I call you back when I get my schedule for next week sorted out?"

"Sure, of course," he said delighted as he recited his contact.

You took the closest paper and pen to you, which unfortunately happened to be one of Roger's flyers, and penned down Ben's number accordingly.

"Oi!" Roger tried to take the pen from you but failed as you managed to dodge him.

You read out his number to confirm, "Alright, I'll get back to you as soon as I..."

Roger had been trying to take the flyer with Ben's number from your hold only crumpling the paper.

"As soon as I sort things out," you continued, "Goodbye!"

"What was that?" You and Roger raged in unison, "What do you mean-"

"Actually," Roger took a step back and returned to his seat with his flyers, "I don't care - I don't have the time for this.

"The time for what, exactly?" You pressed on, aggrevated and confused.

You heard the markers screech and scratch against the paper as you noticed how much more aggressive and messier Roger has gotten with his handwriting. The once used to be pretty flyer has turned into one that was evidently rushed and ruined.

You took the marker from him, earning yourself a growling Roger.

"What do you want?" He probed.

"We're just gonna take a break from the markers-"

"I'm not jealous!"

Your eyes widened, "And no one ever said you were, hun."

"Then give me back my marker," he grumbled on.

"You're not in the right state to be doing these, look!" You held up his recently ruined flyer to reiterate your point.

"I'm fine," he lied and faked a smile, "See! All good and dandy."

"Liar," you called out.

"Fantastic song, if I do say so myself," he shrugged, his eyebrows still creased together.

You sighed and smiled, bringing the pad of your thumb to graze over his eyebrows in an attempt to soften the frown and somehow it did. There was absolute peace and silence as the both of you locked eyes as if searching something in each other's gaze, something evidently there but not quite so clear. You felt your heart pounding louder as the ends of his lip curved ever so slightly into the teeniest, cutest smile. He bowed his head down chuckling slightly to himself.

"Look," he said, looking up, "We just have a lot of gigs coming up next week and Brian and I don't want you missing out."

"Our flat doubles as your studio, do you really think i'll miss out?" You laughed, elbowing him.

"It's different and you know it."

"So a gig every night?" You pressed on as if needing him to confess something.

"No - Wait, yes," he stuttered.

"And you want me there every night?"

"Yes."

"If you say so," you shrugged off and stood up from your seat.

You smiled as an indication to you obliging to his request.

"Help me distribute these flyers, will you?" He tugged on your wrist before you could leave the table.

"Only if you say please," you teased.

"Please."

You nodded before turning away with Ben’s numbers in your hand, heading to your room. The way Roger had reacted was all very peculiar and whatever it made you feel was equally baffling but whatever it was, you knew better than to dig deeper into it. Whatever you and Roger shared had always been platonic and you both knew it was for the best anyway. Too much was at stake, you've been each other’s best friends since young - you just couldn't risk losing that.

"The trash bin's that way," Roger called out pointing to the kitchen, implying that you throw the flyer that had Ben’s number.

You laughed it off, careful not to add meaning to all his gestures. Little did you know that deep down, Roger was a raging mess. His heart had been pounding out of his chest and his palm had been engraved thanks to his nails digging into them in frustration. He had never felt this way about other boys going after you and he didn't quite comprehend why this was happening now but one thing seemed clear: he and you were the unbreakable pair and whether that was only a platonic sentiment was something he has yet to find out.

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piperdelaprim · 5 years

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Headcanon: If Piper made a coming out video (Piper x Tara)

[Yes lads, this is another Tiper piece, with a little bit of a different format. She won't mention her by name, but now you'll know who she's referring to.]

Also, to keep this shorter on the dash, I’ve added the “keep reading” cut after the intro! Sorry for not adding this before! Also this took me 2 months to finish it be like that sometimes tho

Piper: [mellow] Hi guys...

[After saying that shyly, she For about 10 seconds, Piper, while sitting down, stares at the camera and then shifts her focus to her laptop screen, examining how she looks with a rare casual outfit while contemplating on her next set of words.]

Piper: So I don't think anybody's ever gonna see this. I highly doubt in God's name that I'm ever gonna post this somewhere,

[Piper slightly chuckles at her own statement, but quickly shifts back to her serious tone]

Piper: ...but I have to say it. To somebody--er, somethin' rather.

[She chuckles once again]

Piper: As a lot of people know, I'm...well, not poor. I grew up very wealthy, and very fortunate.

Piper: [Her tone raises slightly] So damn fortunate that I got bored of it! [Yet another chuckle] Kiddin', kiddin', but I didn't feel like I had a life to live, uh, I didn't feel free, is a better way to say it. I kinda knew as a kid that I was missing a lil' somethin' in my life. Of course when I was a little child I didn't get this dang philosophical, but it was always there. And I know, I know. I pro'lly sound privileged as hell, but at the end of the day I'm grateful for everything I've endured thus far, but that's not the point here.

[Piper lets out a large sigh before continuing with her story]

Piper: My momma and poppa...though I love 'em to death, God bless their hearts, they wanted me to get married as soon as I can. I was...well...I ain't sure if this is how you say it but, conditioned to think that, that um...I was gonna get married...like a normal girl would! [Pause]

Piper: [Sarcastically] Well, I'm still not married!

[Piper pauses to drink the water cup beside her and then looks at the camera again for a couple moments before continuing]

Piper: And I really wasn't sure why I felt like nobody ever felt like they were...you know...the one! I mean, my life is already so dang crazy, I don't brawl for money or fame, but to, uh, release all the anger within me--to make up for all the times I couldn't resist what I was told to do. The funny thing is...I'm well over the adult age--and I still don't feel so free. I suppose I'm independent, but not exactly...free. If that makes sense.

[About to talk about the most serious part of her life, Piper lets out another big sigh]

Piper: I was set up with many different men by my family, and most of them were very kind and courteous toward me. They were all very good men, but fallin' in love with them was very hard for me to do--it ain't somethin' that came naturally. Well, I ain't been in love for a very very long time. Last time I was in love--it was many years ago--it didn't seem to work out, and lookin' back, it's hard for me to understand why things happened the way they did. Maybe it truly wasn't meant to be, I don't know, but the stars...didn't align. [quietly] They...uh...never did. But anyway, now it's a different time for the rest of the world; we're becomin' more open to each other and we're becomin' more accepting of things I couldn't have imagined being okay when I was growin' up. I'm talkin' about...being gay.

[Nervously, Piper laughs quietly to lighten the mood for herself]

Piper: Being gay, in my household and my family...was...unheard of. I'd like to say even forbidden. We're Christians and they said we can't be gay. I don't even know who the hell "they" is, but it was made sure of that I cannot be gay. It was even an insult I heard growin' up--and my, my, people thought it was a brutal word. Many of my classmates used to say it left n' right thinkin' that their dignities would be stripped for good! And frankly, because of the cruel world we live in, I thought bein' gay was weird, not normal, sinful even. 'Cause to everybody else it was, and I was predetermined to think the same.

[Piper suddenly starts smiling widely out of nowhere, and starts to chuckle, thinking fondly of the next thing she is about to say.]

Piper: Sorry! I get pretty damn giddy thinkin' about this part. I'm just...well I'll just tell you. So anyway, fast forward to present day. I brawled for the hell of it, just for fun. I thought I was straight but life didn't treat me very well.

[Piper suddenly remembers this aspect of her life and the mood shifts back to its original serious tone, but slightly more mellow.]

Piper: I got shit everyday. Sometimes just for breathin'. And it sucked for me. I didn't fit in because people were scared o' me. I was lonely, I was sad, I was...empty to the point where I thought disappearin' would be the answer. It wasn't great to be me at the time. There were such beautiful people havin' the time of their lives out in the battlefield--some o' them so madly in love with either each other or with life as a whole. And I was as jealous as a girl could be. I wanted that so darn badly that my anger built up too much to the point where I just shut everyone out. I also became too violent out in the battlefield and accidentally physically hurt too many people that didn't deserve a scratch. It began to all be too much.

[Piper then remembered the good part about her story, and she starts smiling brightly once again]

Piper: Anyway, this is what you’ve been waiting for, them little happy moments! It’s still a secret, sorta. But at least I can talk about it. So, um, I met this lovely lady in town one day, and I was feelin’ kinda hopeless so I went to talk to her about stuff, ‘cause I had no one. I thought I was a lil mad for just goin’ to some random stranger and ask ‘em about what I should do about my sad ol’ life. And to my surprise she read me like a book...with her cards! [laughs] It was crazy! She just clicked with me so fast, it was somethin’ I never felt before. You know, it made my heart race a lil.

[She laughs again, except more nervously]

Piper: I’m actually a little nervous right now talkin' about her 'cause it's so scary but, obviously what we have was more than what meets the eye! [She laughs nervously again, but then continues to smile] I'm so nervous talkin' about this because it was against everythin' I knew. It didn't feel right at all, but my feelin's couldn't take it anymore. I was already so restricted in my normal life and everythin' prior to it, I couldn't let this opportunity to be happy go. Again, I thought I was a fool tellin' er how I felt. I mean, what if she wasn't...you know?! But like I said my own happiness was on the line. All the signs added up, for some odd reason I was confident enough that my chances were high. Ah, haha...my mom always taught me to shoot my shot...ahh she might be a lil' disappointed at me though! Well anyway, that new lovely lady with a mask told me she felt the same, and at that moment I never felt more free in my life. I was so scared to my stomach, I was scared of rejection, not only from her but from the rest of the world. Even though it felt so wrong to do, the feeling afterward felt so right.

[Piper takes a short breath and takes a sip of water.]

Piper: Well, I've been ramblin' and ramblin' but I will say this last thing. Love can fix a lot of things--not everythin', but a lot. I still got my issues, life ain't gonna be dandy forever just 'cause I found my lover, but consider this: do things because of love, doesn't gotta be that icky, cheesy type o' love that I was talkin' to you about, but it could be your family, your friends, whoever or whatever, alright! I realized I brawl 'cause I hated myself, not 'cause I loved the adrenaline or the glory. I also realized that I denied this part of me for so long cause I was scared, and I hated feelin' more outcasted than I usually had. I'm still tryin' my best to set myself free, but it's a process that became a little better for me to handle. Just don't do things outta hate or outta fear, it ain't good for you, it ain't good for nobody.

[Piper's cell phone rings, once she finishes her sentence, she picks it up]

Piper: [on the phone] Hey love! How much did you earn today? [She smiles as the person on the other end speaks] That's good. I would be more than happy help you if you wanted, it's what I should do for you, but you keep on sayin' no! [Inaudibly, the person on the other end speaks as she laughs happily]

Piper: [on the phone] I'll come by later for sure! I don't exactly need a readin' though, I'd just love to talk normally. Did you want to...

[Piper uses her cursor to stop the recording before she could finish her question to the person on the other side of the line.]

...

And scene. I hope you enjoyed it! This was a long time coming but I'm so happy I was able to finish it!

#brawl stars #brawl stars piper #brawl stars tara #tiper #brawl stars headcanon #headcanon #brawl stars headcanons

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hysterialevi · 5 years

Text

When the Devil Cries pt. 34

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

Author’s note: Real quick, I just wanna thank you guys for sticking with this story for so long. There aren’t that many chapters left (I’m estimating only about 1 or 2 after this one), and the fact that this fic is almost over has me feeling emotional lol. I hope you guys enjoy the last few parts of this story, and again, thanks for being there for all this time :)

From Arthur’s POV

O’CREAGH’S RUN

A COUPLE OF WEEKS LATER

“You got everything?” Hamish asked, eyeing my bag.

I shut the leather flap closed, placin’ my hands on my hips.

“Yeah. I think so. Eddie and I should be ready to go.”

The veteran limped over to me and patted me on the shoulder, displaying a warm smile.

“Well then, you boys stay safe out there, you hear? Things can get pretty wild on the roads nowadays, but you already know this. I just hope your plan to get out of America works for you.”

I nodded in agreement, gazing at Eddie through one of the windows as he readied the horses outside.

“Yeah, me too. Lemme tell you, it’s been one hell of a journey, runnin’ around with that boy, but...I know it’s gonna be worth it. I just have this...feelin’ in me, you know?”

Hamish followed my line of sight and peered at Eddie with an almost fatherly expression, reminiscing about the times when he was our age.

“I believe that feeling is called ‘hope,” he replied. “You become very familiar with it when you fight in a war. Sometimes, it’s all you have. Guns are fine and dandy, sure, but what happens when you don’t have one? That ‘feeling’ is the only thing you can hold onto, and if you’re lucky...it might just save your life.”

I took my attention away from the pianist for a moment and changed the subject, curious to know more about Hamish’s past.

“Sounds like those were bad times,” I remarked seriously. “How anyone survived that war is beyond me.”

Hamish raised a brow, appearing confused. “You wasn’t around back then?”

“I was,” I corrected, “but I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Just a lil’ boy. I hardly remember anything from back then.”

The veteran let out a sigh. “Consider yourself lucky. Ain’t nothin’ pleasant to remember about the Civil War. Colored folk were in chains, our people was beatin’ them, and of course...there was death. Everywhere you went. Sometimes, the bodies lay so thick, you coulda walked across the whole field without your boots touching mud.”

I shook my head in a sympathetic manner, lookin’ Hamish in the eye.

“It’s a good thing those times are behind us, then.”

He gave me a weary expression. “Behind the government, perhaps. But not us. There’s still conflict in this country every single day. A thousand little wars ragin’ on in the unseen corners of America. That’s why you absolutely cannot let anything happen to you, or Mister Ryan.”

Hamish paused at the mention of Eddie’s name and switched to a more inquiring tone, leaning casually on his crutch.

“Say, how did you meet that man in the first place? I’ve spoken with Eddie a bit, and he says y’all haven’t known each other for that long, but the two of you seem real close to me.”

A chuckle escaped me. “I ran into him in Saint Denis. Quite literally, actually. I had just come stumblin’ outta some pompous saloon and accidentally slammed right into him. It was...memorable, you could say.”

Hamish returned the laugh. “Tell me, what was Eddie like back then? How’d a simple pianist end up running around with America’s most wanted?”

I backtracked through all the months I’d spent with Eddie, the memories bombarding my head like the continuous flash of a camera.

“To be honest, I couldn’t quite tell you. He was a kind, law-abiding citizen who had never killed a man before, and then...there was me. A rotten, ol’ thief come looking to pick that city clean.”

The other man smirked at that, clearly not buying it. “And yet, Eddie insists you’re one of the noblest men he’s ever known.”

I grinned in response, carrying on with my story. “Well, I suppose Eddie just...brought somethin’ out in me. I saw the struggles he was dealin’ with, and I wanted to give him better. So, I helped him out with his troubles, taught him how to survive, and gave him shelter within the gang, but...now that’s fallen apart, too.”

I sighed in a despondent tone, glancing at the floor. “...Seems like that happens all too often, nowadays.”

An encouraging glint twinkled in Hamish’s eyes. “So it does. But you’ll make it through this, Arthur. You and Eddie. I know a survivor when I see one.”

I picked up the leather bag and slung it over my shoulder, preparin’ to head outside as I spoke with Hamish along the way.

“I just...I wanna give Eddie the life he deserves, y’know? But I dunno if I can do it.”

The veteran followed after me, still remaining optimistic.

“Why not? You’ve gotten this far, ain’t you?”

I stopped right in front of the door, turnin’ around to face the old man.

“Well, yeah, but how long will we be running? I’m a criminal, for god’s sake. An outlaw. I’m constantly on the lookout for Pinkertons, bounty hunters, rival gangs -- how in the hell am I supposed to help Eddie find a normal life when I can’t even find one?”

Hamish chuckled lightly, pointing out the obvious. “You rely on yourself too much, Arthur. Remember, you ain’t bearing all this weight by yourself. Eddie’s there to help you just as much as you’re there to help him.”

The veteran laid a hand on my shoulder, attempting to reassure me. “I know it’s comfortable believing that you’re capable of findin’ all your own solutions, but the reality is, sometimes you need other people to fill in the blanks. You haven’t been able to find a normal life, Arthur, because you ain’t meant to do it on your own. Don’t be afraid to lean on Eddie every once in a while. The boy’s strong. He can take it. You just gotta let him know what’s goin’ on.”

Falling silent for a minute, I took what Hamish said to heart and thought about it for a while, suddenly changin’ my whole perspective on my relationship with Eddie.

I...I supposed Hamish was right.

I had gotten so used to fixing my own problems and building up my own pride, that I forgot there weren’t no shame in askin’ for help when I needed it.

Things was just always so tense within the gang, and everyone was concerned with their own problems, that eventually, I learned to look out for myself. Didn’t even take a moment to step back and consider that perhaps, I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

I knew Eddie was capable of protecting himself, and of me, but I was just too afraid to let him do it.

I rested a hand on the doorknob and simply stayed still for a moment, listenin’ to Hamish as he continued to talk.

“Love goes both ways, Arthur. Whatever you’re willin’ to do in order to keep Eddie alive, I know that man feels the same way about you. It’s how love works.”

“Wait,” I said, pausing for a second. “...Love? How did you know that we were...” my voice trailed off awkwardly, causin’ me to clear my throat. “Did...did Eddie tell you?”

The veteran chortled. “Didn’t have to. The bond between you two is pretty obvious. In fact, I suspected it from the moment you set foot on my doorstep. I just never said anything ‘cause I didn’t wanna pry.”

My face started to feel hot with embarrassment, and I sheepishly rubbed the back of my neck. “Ah. I see.”

Hamish quickly offered some reassurance, noticing my mood.

“Hey, you’ll get no judgements here. I must admit I’m a tad surprised, but frankly...” he sighed, his eyes sinking with profound sorrow, “...I’ve seen the damage unfair judgement can do. My own partner -- a colored woman -- was killed years ago because of it. ...You just take care of Mister Ryan while you’re out there, alright? And yourself.”

I nodded firmly at that, somewhat more relaxed now that our secret was out in the open.

“Oh, believe me. I will.”

A paternal smile radiated on the old man’s face and he pulled me into a hug with one of his arms, happily pattin’ me on the back as he said goodbye.

“Then I wish you luck. I’ll miss your company, Arthur. Yours and Eddie’s. It was a pleasure havin’ you boys stay.”

I laughed warmly at that, opening the front door.

“Heh, well, thank you for everything you’ve done. Y’know...this might be the first time I’m leavin’ someone’s house without any of their belongings.”

Hamish shook his head in an amused manner, separating the hug. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. Let’s just see if you can keep it up.”

I stepped out the door and made my way into the crisp weather outside, throwin’ one last wave at Hamish as he stayed behind.

“I’ll do my best.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Strollin’ away from the quaint cabin as a light breeze whistled past me, I approached the horses while Eddie secured our stuff onto their backs and whistled to himself, his face shielded from the sun due to the Nevada hat sittin’ on his head.

His leg was looking much better now, thanks to all those weeks of recovery. He still weren’t able to walk or run as well as before, and it had been a while since he last left the house, but the man didn’t require a cane to get around no more. At least, not most of the time.

I was just happy to see Eddie on his feet again.

It scared the hell outta me, watchin’ him go through all that just ‘cause of one bullet. There was a lot of pain and frustration involved with his healing process, and part of me worried he’d never be able to walk again. As for the other part, well -- I was just grateful that he was still around in the first place.

After all, it didn’t look like many of our people survived Rodrick’s attack back at Beaver Hollow. And considering what happened to fellers like Kieran, or Lenny, or Strauss...I considered ourselves lucky for gettin’ away how we did.

I only hoped our luck would last long enough for us to get out of America.

Our plan at the moment was to get to Saint Denis and hop onto the next ship to England, but I had seen enough of my friends get killed to know that nothin’ was ever that easy. The road to freedom was rarely ever a straight path, and I doubted this one was going to be any different.

I supposed we would just have to wait and see what the future held.

“Morning, handsome,” I called out cheerfully, slingin’ my bag over my horse’s saddle. “You ready to go?”

The pianist fed his mount a quick snack, patting him on the neck.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. It feels like ages since I last stepped outside. What about you, Arthur? How are you feeling?”

I let out a hesitant sigh, admittedly nervous about going to England.

“...I’m ready,” I answered, not sounding as sincere as I hoped. “Just...not quite used to the idea of livin’ halfway across the world yet.”

Eddie picked up on my tone and gave me a concerned look. “If you’re uncomfortable with going to England, we can always go somewhere else. There’s still time to decide. Remember, this isn’t just about me. I wanna make sure you’re safe too.”

“Well...where else would we go?” I asked. “Ain’t like we got a lot of options.”

The other man offered some suggestions. “Canada, perhaps? Or even Mexico, if you prefer.”

I waved a dismissive hand, goin’ along with our original idea.

“Nah, both of those places are too close. I’d feel better knowin’ we had some ocean between us and them Pinkertons. If they’re gonna come after me, I wanna at least make ‘em work for it. Besides, accordin’ to Javier, Mexico ain’t the best place to lie low right now.”

The pianist shrugged uncertainly, takin’ my word for it. “Well, alright, I guess.”

I came to a halt, noticing that Eddie still had a worried expression on his face.

“...Look, I’ll be fine,” I reassured him. “I just need some time to wrap my head ‘round this whole thing. I’ve never left America before. You know this. England’s a whole new world to me.”

The other man clearly wasn’t convinced about my commitment to this just yet, but decided to trust me anyway.

“...If you say so. Just let me know if you change your mind, okay? I don’t wanna drag you into something you’re not willing to do. And besides, the more backup plans we have, the better. I hate to be the pessimist, but there really is no guarantee our trip to England will go smoothly. And that’s assuming we even reach Saint Denis.”

I chuckled sarcastically, unhitching my horse. “You certainly know how to comfort a man, don’t you?”

Eddie smirked in response. “I learned from the best. Anyways, now that we got that out of the way...” he mounted his horse, stickin’ his boots in the stirrups, “...shall we get going?”

I followed his actions and climbed on top of my own mount, makin’ myself comfortable in the saddle.

“Yes, let’s.”

Turning away from Hamish’s lone cabin, the two of us began trotting at a casual pace as we slowly made our way back to the road, finally resuming the seemingly eternal journey we started months ago.

I couldn’t lie -- I was gonna miss O’Creagh’s Run. There was just a certain air to the place that offered a sense of sanctuary, and I always felt like we was hidden from the rest of the world whenever I wandered near here.

I supposed I was just more a nature person. America had its flaws, sure, but part of me honestly wished we could stay. Ever since I was a little boy, the view of lively meadows, never-ending forests, and purple mountains crowning the horizon always made me feel at home.

Somethin’ about them just brought you closer to the sky, I guess. They seemed to compliment the stars like nothing mankind ever built, and no matter how large people made their cities or how brightly they lit them up...I knew the wild west was always gonna have my heart.

It just made me sad to know that those times were comin’ to an end.

All them years I spent runnin’ around with Dutch and Hosea -- creating our own society and riding across America -- they were nothing more than a handful of lost memories now.

Hosea was dead, Dutch had lost his mind, and I...well, I hated to admit it, but the era of outlaws and gunslingers was over.

Despite all our efforts to stay ahead of it, civilization was spreading rapidly across the whole world, and people like me had no place in its society.

If I was gonna keep Eddie alive and hope to have a future with him, my entire lifestyle was gonna have to change.

My criminal background, my time spent runnin’ from the law, my love for a freer life -- it would all have to go. I would have to become a...civilized man, and live in a civilized place.

I didn’t know if I was ready for that kind of a difference, but what I did know was that I loved Eddie. And regardless of how much I longed for another life, that man meant more to me than anything else right now.

Even if it meant giving up everything I had in America, I was gonna do whatever it took to help him...because I knew he’d do the same for me.

I just hoped we’d be able to reach Saint Denis first. We were finally nearing the end of this harsh journey, and Lord only knew what sort of obstacles we was gonna face along the way. I had a feeling neither Atticus nor the Pinkertons were going to let us go that easy, but if I had any say in it, they weren’t gonna stop us from reaching England.

Nothing was.

~~~~~~~~~~

A COUPLE HOURS LATER

EASTERN NEW HANOVER

Roaming through New Hanover’s wide, open fields, Eddie and I ventured down a path that would lead us alongside the Kamassa River and straight into Bluewater Marsh, hopefully taking us to the northern region of Bayou Nwa before the day ended.

So far, things had been peaceful enough except for a few random crazies on the road, but...we had yet to run into anything life-threatening.

The weather was only partly cloudy, the roads were empty, the birds were soarin’ in the sky, and our heads were still on our shoulders. S’far as I was concerned, that was a win in my book.

As for Eddie, the man seemed content with our plan and didn’t show as much hesitance as I did, but there was still a certain...melancholy surrounding him. Sorta like he was about to visit a cemetery or something.

Though, the more I thought about it...he kinda was. After all, the last time Eddie set foot in England was when his family had just been murdered, and his previous partner, Nathaniel, was killed.

Goin’ back to that place after all these years...I imagined it must’ve brought back some terrible memories for the man.

I knew from personal experience that there weren’t nothing pleasant about returning to an old graveyard, and the longer Eddie stayed silent, the more I worried about his well-being.

I leaned over in my saddle and brought my horse closer to the other man, wantin’ to check up on him.

“Hey, Eddie,” I said, peerin’ at him from under my hat. “You doin’ alright there? You seem kinda...preoccupied.”

The pianist took his eyes off the road for a moment and glanced at me, his brow furrowed with suspicion.

“...I won’t lie to you, Arthur,” he replied in a perturbed voice. “I’ve had a strange feeling ever since we left the cabin. Like...someone’s watching us.”

I took a look at the surrounding area, scanning the trees to our side.

“You see anyone?” I questioned.

“Not yet,” Eddie admitted, “but the feeling’s still there.”

“Well...just keep your eyes open,” I warned. “I doubt it’s Atticus, but there’s still plenty of bandits in these parts. Could be them.”

The pianist wasn’t so sure. “Maybe, but bandits don’t stalk you, do they?”

I let out a troubled sigh, shakin’ my head. “Not usually, no. Again, like I said -- just keep your eyes open. We don’t need any surprises.”

Tryin’ to ease Eddie’s nerves, I decided to switch topics and took on a softer tone, hoping to calm the man down a little.

“Listen,” I began, “when I asked if you was doin’ okay, I was more referring to the fact that we’re going back to England. To your homeland. I know you haven’t seen it in a long time, and I was just...curious, I guess. About what’s on your mind.”

Eddie chuckled in response, though it sounded more like he was laughing at himself.

“You know, it’s the strangest thing. From the moment I set foot in the States, I spent every second wishing I could go back home. I missed London. I missed my family, the people, the buildings, the culture, the way of life...”

I jumped in. “But now...?”

“But now...” he continued, “I honestly wish I could stay here. In America. With you.”

I grinned, admittedly a tad surprised. “Is that so?”

Eddie returned the smile. “I’m afraid it is. But...I know it’s not safe for us here anymore. I know we have to leave. It’s just -- I’ll miss America. Despite everything we’ve been through.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” I reassured him. “We’ll come back someday.”

The pianist smirked. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Ridin’ in silence for a few moments, a random thought suddenly crossed my mind when I glanced at Eddie’s mount, causing me to raise a question.

“Hey, I just noticed something. Whatever happened to your other horse, Bullet? I haven’t seen him around for a while.”

Eddie frowned at that, sighing mournfully. “He died, I’m afraid.”

My eyes sprang open in surprise. “Died? When?”

“He was shot down when Rodrick attacked our camp,” he explained. “I didn’t even get the chance to try to save him.”

Bewildered by the news, I thought back to the ambush and replayed all the events in my head as clearly as I could, suddenly realizin’ something I completely missed before.

If I recalled correctly, I took cover behind a dead horse at some point during the shootout. It was right after Eddie had just been shot in the leg and I was tryin’ to make my way to him.

...That must’ve been Bullet.

“Aw, shit...” I breathed out. “I’m sorry, Eddie. He was a good horse.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “he was. I’ll miss that big brute. I’m just glad it wasn’t you.”

I leaned to the side and placed a hand on top of Eddie’s, comforting the pianist.

“Oh, you know I wouldn’t let that happen. And neither would you.”

Smiling warmly at the comment, Eddie’s face radiated with affection as he tightened his hand ‘round mine, gazing lovingly at me.

Just before he could reply however, a third voice suddenly cut him off from a distance and darkened the mood with a sense of dread, causin’ us to stop dead in our tracks.

“A sweet sentiment,” their voice flatly observed, “...but I’m afraid that’s all it is.”

Turnin’ to see just who the hell had interrupted us, I brought my focus to the opposite end of the road and spotted a mysterious man sitting on a horse, only to quickly recognize the Pinkerton badge shining brightly on his coat.

There was a large array of other agents protecting him on both sides -- all of them armed to the teeth -- and the more I searched the thick trees surrounding us, the easier I started to notice the sons-of-bitches hidin’ in the bushes.

I guessed Eddie’s instincts were correct.

“...Shit...” I cursed under my breath. “Milton.”

Eddie paused. “Wait, you know this man?”

I kept my voice low, makin’ sure that the bastard couldn’t hear me.

“He’s one of them Pinkertons,” I explained with a whisper. “He’s been hunting Dutch for months now. Even before I met you.”

“...Dammit. What should we do?”

I signaled Eddie to stay back with a simple gesture, remindin’ him to remain calm as Milton slowly approached the two of us.

“Just let me do the talking,” I said. “Don’t shoot anything yet.”

Eddie was obviously unsettled by the encounter but followed my lead anyway, keepin’ his hand close to his holster.

“...If you think that’s best. Just be careful.”

I gave him a nod, ensuring that I would.

Finally bringin’ my attention over to Milton, I tapped my spurs into the side of my horse and steadily trotted closer to him, wandering down the road alone as the other Pinkertons kept their guns nailed onto me.

I didn’t dare take my eyes off of Milton’s friends -- especially not that sleaze Ross -- and with every torturous second that passed by, I could feel Milton’s glare practically piercin’ through me more and more.

It was evident that he didn’t intend on lettin’ us walk outta here alive, and just by studying his arrogant demeanor, I could tell he had already captured some o’ the other folks in our gang.

My only question was who.

“Mister Morgan,” Milton greeted as I came to a halt. “Nice to see you again. It’s been quite a long time since we last spoke.”

I sighed to myself, already wishin’ I could kill this man. “...I do my best to avoid you.”

“So I see.”

The Pinkerton’s iron sight traveled over to Eddie, leading him into his next question. “...I assume that’s Mister Ryan?”

I followed Milton’s gaze and briefly glanced at the pianist, surprised that he knew him.

“Oh, there’s no need to be shocked,” Milton remarked, noticing my expression. “Micah Bell hardly left anything to question, after all. He’s been quite the informant as of late.”

An irritated breath escaped me. “Of course. Well...what is it that you want?”

The agent rested his arms on the horn of his saddle. “I want many things, Mister Morgan. Van der Linde, most of all. But also...you.”

That triggered a sense of alarm within me, but I decided to hold it back for now.

“So...what,” I asked, tryin’ to hide my agitation, “you here to kill me? Claim the price on my head? Is that it?”

Milton nonchalantly shook his head. “Not kill. ...Not yet.”

The Pinkerton raised his hands in a diplomatic manner and slowly walked towards me, closing the distance between us until there were only a couple meters left.

“I’ve come to make a deal, Mister Morgan.”

I let out a scoff. “A deal?”

“I’m offering you a chance to surrender,” Milton continued, disregarding my reluctance. “Lay down your weapons, and come with me peacefully. If you tell me where to find Van der Linde, I promise you won’t be executed.”

I refused to humor him.

“Ol’ Dutch? I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

The Pinkerton obviously didn’t believe me. “Is that so?”

“I’ve lied about many things in my time, agent,” I countered, “but that ain’t one of them.”

Milton’s mind remained unswayed. “Even so, my offer still stands. You may not know where Dutch is at the moment, but I’m sure a man like you would know how to find him. Help me locate Mister Van der Linde, and you have my word you won’t swing.”

I shrugged. “And you expect me to just believe you?”

The agent’s expression hardened with impatience. “You don’t have a choice.”

Cocking their guns as a warning, the other Pinkertons immediately assumed a more hostile stance as they cornered me and Eddie within the confines of this road, preventin’ us from going anywhere.

There were far too many of them for us to simply escape without a fight, and judging by the faint rustling I heard from behind me, I could only assume they had blocked us from the rear as well.

We were trapped.

“So,” Milton said, readying his own pistol, “what’s it going to be, Arthur? Shall we handle this like civilized folk...or do I need to order my men to open fire?”

Observin’ the Pinkertons with an alarmed glare, I started to grow restless as my heart began to pound heavily and I slowly realized just how many of them there actually were.

It looked like an entire goddamned battalion had ambushed us, and for as far as the eye could see, there were nothin’ but Pinkertons blocking us from every direction, making me feel as if we was trapped in a human cobweb.

It was clear to me that we had to get the hell outta here as soon as possible...but I just didn’t know how.

Eddie trotted closer to me and kept his voice hushed, whispering in a panicked tone.

“There’s too many of them, Arthur,” he stated, his eyes frantically dartin’ around. “If we start shooting, we’ll be slaughtered...!”

I glanced back at him, adamant that we would make it outta this.

“We can’t surrender now, Eddie. We’ve come way too far. If they take us, we’ll go straight to the gallows. You think that’s any better than dyin’ here?”

The pianist found himself at a dead end. “Well -- what else can we do? Do you believe Milton will actually spare you if we surrender?”

I shook my head. “I doubt it, but it don’t matter anyway. I ain’t gonna become a traitor like Micah. If Milton wants Dutch, he’s gon’ have to find him himself.”

“No,” Eddie disagreed, “Dutch betrayed you, Arthur. Not the other way around. You were his son and he almost killed you...! Don’t you want him to answer for what he did? Perhaps this is your chance.”

“I ain’t in the revenge business, Eddie.” I reminded him. “If Dutch is gonna die by my hand someday, so be it. But I won’t give these snakes the satisfaction.”

The other man sighed out of discouragement.

“Very well, but...” his voice trailed off into a grim silence, leadin’ me to urge him on.

“What is it?” I questioned.

Eddie gazed at me with an expression sharpened by genuine fear and clenched his jaw out of distress, knowing damn-well what the near-future held.

“...I don’t want to die, Arthur,” he confessed morosely. “If we don’t do what Milton says, his Pinkertons will kill us right here. We’ll...we’ll be dead. ...I’m not ready for that.”

I let out a heartbroken breath at the statement and bit my bottom lip, reluctant to admit that Eddie was right once the dreadful news sunk in.

We...we truly were done for, weren’t we?

We couldn’t surrender, and we couldn’t fight all these men either.

Just like that, all our efforts to get outta this country had been snuffed out like a dying candle because of these goddamned Pinkertons, and for the first time since I met Eddie, I was powerless to stop it.

...This was where we were gonna die.

This was how our journey was gonna come to an end.

These were my final moments in this godforsaken world, and the retribution for all the sins I had committed had caught up to me at last.

Even if I had to die today though, I refused to let the Pinkertons use me as their toy.

I was gonna go down fighting like the outlaw I was born to be, and I’d do it side-by-side with the man I loved.

There weren’t no glory in this kind of death, but perhaps there would be peace.

“...Arthur?” Eddie asked, bringin’ me back to reality. I could tell he was waiting for a decision. “What are you thinking?”

I steadily lowered my hand so that it was next to my holster and glared at Milton with an unbreakable stare, somehow tryin’ to comfort Eddie even in the face of imminent death.

“...We stand our ground.” I said with a heavy heart, attempting to remain strong for both our sakes. “Milton’s a goddamned fool if he thinks we’re gonna surrender.”

To my surprise, Eddie didn’t even question the choice and simply reached for his own revolver, barely wavering as he walked his horse to my side.

“Then I’ll stand with you.”

I gave Eddie a look of profound remorse, hopelessly wishing I could whisk him away from this mess.

“You know I love you, right?” I whispered compassionately, unable to believe I was truly sayin’ goodbye to this man.

“There’s no doubt in my mind.” He confirmed, maintaining his composure. “I love you, too, Arthur.”

Finally done with waitin’ for an answer, Milton raised his voice and called to us from the other end of the road, demanding a decision from us.

“Well? Have you made a choice, Mister Morgan? Will you accept my offer? My patience grows thin.”

I threw the Pinkerton a steadfast grin and lightly scoffed to myself, strangely amused by the fact that, despite cornering us, he still lost this battle.

“Not a chance, Milton,” I replied firmly. “...I’m afraid we’ll be outlaws for life.”

The agent responded with an ice-cold glower.

“...So be it.”

Boldly elevating his arm into the air with an open hand, Milton signaled the other Pinkertons to prepare for a fight.

“You chose this path, Arthur,” he announced, narrowing his eyes in anger. “Let it be known that I offered you mercy.”

The rest of the Pinkertons readied their rifles, eagerly taking aim.

“May God spare you from the suffering you’ve inflicted on His creatures, Mister Morgan,” Milton prayed apathetically. “...Because I certainly won’t.”

Striking like a thunderbolt, an unexpected bang echoed throughout the entire field as everyone instantly froze and birds soared away in the distance, all of us stuck in disbelief until we noticed a bullet hole buried in Milton’s skull.

It didn’t look like the agent had realized what had happened just yet, but after about a second of staring blankly into the space ahead of him, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground, rendering us speechless.

I hurriedly searched for the source of the shot, only to spot Rodrick Kinglsey mounted on a horse in the distance.

Goddammit...

That son-of-a-bitch found us.

The madman cocked his smoking repeater and chuckled maliciously, goading the Pinkertons into a fight as the rest of Atticus’ gang joined the scene.

“You government boys did us a huge favor,” he mocked, “but we’ll take it from here.”

“Shit!” Agent Ross exclaimed sharply, finally snappin’ out of his state of shock. “There’s more of the bastards! Open fire!”

Not even wasting a single second, the Pinkertons began raining bullets on Atticus’ gang as guns fired off in every direction and smoke filled the air, forcin’ us to ride blind while horses frantically trampled all over the scene.

“Eddie!” I shouted over the commotion, “RUN!”

Takin’ this opportunity to flee, the pianist and I immediately hauled ass away from the battlefield as we shot down Pinkertons and outlaws alike, not sparing even one bullet during our escape.

Unfortunately for us, some of Atticus’ men had managed to single us out from the crowd -- including Rodrick -- and started to chase after us, shootin’ wildly as if there was no tomorrow.

“Shit!” Eddie yelled, dodging a bullet that just barely missed his head. “Where are we going?!”

I gestured in front of us. “Just keep headin’ south! We’ll try to lose them up ahead!”

Whippin’ my reins with a sharp tug, I glanced over my shoulder and fired a few shots at the men behind us, struggling to keep my aim straight with how much my horse was diggin’ its hooves into the ground.

I managed to kill one of Atticus’ men and sent them crashin’ into the dirt below, practically turning them into a human tumbleweed as they rolled through thick billows of dust.

It looked like the Pinkertons were keepin’ the rest of their gang busy with all the chaos surrounding Milton’s death, and fortunately for me and Eddie, I had yet to see any sign of Atticus Rose himself.

Though, if Rodrick was here runnin’ after us, I had no other choice but to assume he was close.

We would have to deal with him sooner or later.

“Arthur, look!” Eddie called out, pointing ahead. “There’s a bridge!”

Peering over the wavy hills laid out in front of us, I leaned forward in my saddle and gazed through the numerous trees, makin’ out a long hanging bridge not too far away from us.

It was positioned just above a colossal waterfall and connected the gap between two massive rock formations, both of which towered over the land like a pair of skyscrapers.

That could be our way out.

“Get across the bridge!” I told Eddie. “We’ll cut it down from the other side!”

The pianist glued his eyes onto the multiple people ridin’ behind me, instantly slipping his pistol out.

“That might be harder than you think...!”

Bringin’ my attention back to Rodrick and his men, I signaled for Eddie to follow my lead as the two of us started gunning them down together, both of us desperately tryin’ to pick up our speed.

It wouldn’t be too long before we’d be crossin’ that bridge now, and if we didn’t put enough distance between ourselves and Rodrick’s men, our plan to trap ‘em on the other side would’ve been one of futility.

“You go on ahead!” I exclaimed at Eddie, killing another one of Atticus’ people. “I’ll make sure these bastards stay back!”

“What? No!” Eddie rejected. “I’m not leaving you here, Arthur!”

I hurriedly reloaded my pistol. “Look, that bridge is too narrow for us to cross it at the same time anyway, so you may as well just go in front of me! Now, hurry!”

Letting out a reluctant sigh, the pianist pondered the dilemma for a moment before snappin’ his horse’s reins and bolting ahead, rushing directly towards the bridge’s entrance.

Just before he had any time to react however, I suddenly noticed a small group of Atticus’ men hidin’ on the other side, ready to cut the bridge down right as Eddie was about to cross it.

“Oh, shit,” I cursed, “Eddie! STOP!”

But it was too late.

Even though the pianist had already yanked the reins back with a great amount of force, the poor animal still slid onto the bridge’s rickety planks due to its incredible speed and let out a panicked neigh as the structure came swingin’ down, causing both the horse and Eddie to go plummeting towards the waterfall.

“EDDIE!” I yelled, immediately hopping off my own mount. I sprinted towards the edge of the cliff and looked down, only to see that the man was now dangling from a thin ledge as the waterfall raged underneath him.

“A-Arthur!” Eddie shouted back, his voice strainin’ with effort. “I can’t hold on much longer!”

“Here!” I said, extending an arm. “Grab my hand!”

Before I could get anywhere near the man though, the sound of someone cocking their gun abruptly reached my ears, leadin’ me to come to a halt.

It was Mister Kingsley himself.

“...I wouldn’t do that if I was you, sunshine.” He warned, wearin’ his usual grin. “You might hurt yourself.”

I steadily rose from the ground and turned to face the crazed man, secretly panicking on the inside about how Eddie was about to fall at any second.

“You son-of-a-bitch...” I muttered lowly, clenchin’ my fist. “What d’you want with us? Atticus, I understand, but you -- what the hell do you get outta this?”

Rodrick sauntered towards me and smiled widely, shrugging casually.

“Entertainment, my good sir,” he answered simply. “Entertainment. You see--” he let out a melodramatic sigh, “everybody’s so boring, nowadays. They’re always bein’ held back by polite manners, or etiquette, or some goddamn pretense.”

Rodrick gestured to me. “You though? You’re so easy to rile up. All someone’s gotta do is point a gun at Mister Ryan, and you’re ready to kill a man.” An amused chuckle escaped him. “You can pretend to be a good man all you want, Arthur. Everyone knows you’re just as rotten as the rest of us. Nothin’ but another thief with larceny in his blood. Ain’t no shame in it though. In fact, that’s what I like about you.”

I strengthened my gaze and glared at Kingsley, starin’ him down.

“I used to be like that, but not anymore.”

He scoffed in a bored manner. “Pfft...come on, Morgan. Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscious suddenly. All because you helped one man? What about the other men in your life? Lenny? Strauss? Hosea? All of ‘em died ‘cause you felt Eddie was more important. Tell me...d’you feel like a hero yet?”

“Shut your mouth, Kingsley!” I snapped, raisin’ my voice.

“Or what?” He asked with a smirk. “You’ll kill me? I’m the one with a gun in my hand, sunshine.”

Rodrick strolled closer to me and playfully tapped the barrel of his pistol against my hat, clearly enjoying himself.

“Oh, how easy it would be to put a bullet in your head right now. I could take away everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve achieved. I could destroy Eddie’s entire life with just the simple pull of a trigger, and he’d never see you again. I gotta admit...havin’ that much power at my fingertips -- it’s almost addicting.”

Kingsley suddenly pointed his gun away from me and took a few steps back, reachin’ for his knife.

“...But I won’t do it. After all, where’s the fun in shootin’ such an interesting creature like you? Naw...you and me, we’re gonna fight man-to-man. Outlaw-to-outlaw. Killer-to-killer.”

He brandished his knife and began circling around me, encouragin’ me to follow his actions.

“Well, come on then, sunshine! Do your worst. ...Show me exactly what kind of a monster Dutch van der Linde created.”

Barely givin’ me a chance to fight back, Rodrick aggressively lunged forward and started slashing erratically at me, sporting an insane smile as the sky grew darker above us, and the rumbling of thunder lurked in the distance.

By now, the clouds had evolved into one, monstrous shadow that blotted out the sun and stretched across the entire region, leavin’ just enough room for a slice of sunlight.

As for Kingsley himself, the bastard fought more like a wild animal than a man and moved sporadically around me, makin’ it even more difficult than usual to read his patterns.

“What’s the matter, Arthur?” Rodrick taunted, throwin’ a punch at me. “You ain’t got any fight left in you?”

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, I hurriedly reached down and whipped out my own knife before retaliating with a few solid cuts to his chest, rippin’ through the fabric of his suit.

Despite managing to make Rodrick bleed however, the wound didn’t seem to slow him down at all. He simply bounced back from the injury as if it was nothing, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said it actually fueled him to fight harder.

The man suddenly grabbed me by the collar and slammed me against a nearby boulder, knockin’ the wind outta my lungs.

“Gonna have to do more than that, Morgan...!”

Forcing his knife towards my throat, Rodrick wrestled with me as I desperately tried to push him away and practically crushed his hand with an iron grip, making my arm tremble due to the amount of strength I was puttin’ on it.

The two of us scratched and clawed at each other like a bunch of animals and nearly tore each other apart in the mud, our faces becoming more and more bruised as the fight carried on.

“Why won’t you just die...?!”

Closin’ my fist, I repeatedly slammed my knuckles into Rodrick’s cheekbone and damn-near smashed his face in, doin’ everything I could to get the madman off me.

Luckily, with one final punch to the nose, I put enough power behind the attack to send Rodrick reeling and shoved him away from me, afterwards tackling him to the ground.

Keeping the man down with my weight, I began pressing my own knife into his throat and struggled against his resistance, lettin’ out a pained groan when Rodrick started twisting the skin on my wrist.

There was blood streaming down from his nose at this point, but even with the numerous lacerations decoratin’ his body and a broken nose, Kingsley still brawled with the same amount of prowess as he did before.

He jabbed his knee into my gut and threw me off, takin’ a second to regain his footing.

“You fight like the devil himself, sunshine,” Rodrick growled in a deranged tone. “I almost don’t wanna kill you!”

Rising back to his feet with an unbalanced sway, the maniac loosely charged at me again and aimed straight for my throat, tiredly trampling through the soupy mud beneath our feet.

Thanks to his fatigued state however, I managed to grab him by the shoulders and hurl him in a different direction, pinnin’ the lunatic against a tree as I practically held onto him for support, admittedly more beaten up than I cared to show.

Determined to put an end to this vicious fight, I wasted no time in takin’ hold of my knife and immediately thrusting it forward, eagerly planting the blade deep into Rodrick’s abdomen as the man’s eyes widened in shock.

It was the first time I had ever seen the outlaw in a state of fear or pain, and as malignant as it might’ve sounded, just gettin’ the chance to watch that cocky grin finally be wiped off his goddamned face granted me with a dark sense of satisfaction that I had never felt before.

I drilled the knife even further into his stomach, almost snarling at him while his hot blood stained my hand.

“You’re wrong, Kingsley,” I said through gritted teeth, stabbing him again. “I am a good man.”

I drove the blade into him one last time, twistin’ the weapon inside his chest.

“...But only when I need to be.”

Watchin’ the life vanish from his eyes, I didn’t even bother to blink as Rodrick writhed in pain and blood gathered in his mouth, causing him to choke.

His face was red with agony and the veins in his forehead protruded from his skin, makin’ me think they were about to burst.

Though, to my surprise, Kingsley managed to conjure one, final smile and let out a hoarse laugh, revealing the bloodied teeth beneath.

“...Oh...you got me, Morgan...” he wheezed out. “...You got me. My only regret is...lettin’ you kill me before going after Atticus. My, my, what a show that would’ve been...”

Rodrick weakly patted my hand, uttering his last words.

“...Go on...and raise some hell, would you, sunshine? I know it’s gonna be beautiful...it always is...”

Drifting into a deathly silence, Rodrick’s body finally fell limp as his last breath escaped him and his hand slipped from the knife’s hilt, allowin’ me to relax for the first time in a while.

I couldn’t believe he was actually dead.

After so many months of him tormenting me and Eddie -- there were times when I felt like the bastard would never die.

He just seemed so invincible. So welcoming to death. So...inhumane.

But I was foolish to think in such a way. It was clear to me now that Rodrick bled just like every other son-of-a-bitch on this Earth...and boy, was I glad that he did.

Removin’ my blade from the man’s torso, I stepped away and let his body collapse to the soaking wet ground, instantly bringing my focus back to Eddie now that Kingsley was dead.

I had no idea if the pianist was still latched on to that little piece of rock on the cliff face, but to think that he already fallen to his death made me sick with worry.

“Eddie!” I called out, kneeling by the edge. “You there?”

Thankfully, I got a response.

“I’m here, Arthur! But the rock’s too wet! I-I can’t climb up!”

I reached a hand down, suddenly realizin’ just how much blood was covering it.

“Come on! I’ll pull you up!”

Grabbing onto my arm, Eddie grunted with effort and hoisted himself onto my level, usin’ the thin ledges in the cliff’s side as leverage.

“I got you, darling,” I comforted, helping him over the edge. “I got you.”

Finally returning to the surface, Eddie gladly plopped himself on the grass and simply sat there for a moment, briefly catchin’ his breath.

“Jesus Christ...” he panted out, “that...that was close. Thank you, Arthur. I would’ve slipped soon if you didn’t help.”

“No need to thank me,” I replied, also out of breath. “Let’s just get the hell outta here...and go to Saint Denis. I’ve had enough of this goddamn place.”

Eddie nodded in agreement and stood up from the ground, only to freeze mid-action when he noticed Rodrick’s body sitting against the tree.

The pianist paused for a second, staring blankly at his corpse.

“Wait...Rodrick’s dead?” He asked, clearly in disbelief. “...You...you killed him?”

“I did.” I said firmly. “And I’d do it again.”

Contrary to what I expected, Eddie sighed in regret and hung his head low, recalling all the encounters he had with that lunatic.

“That crazy bastard...” he whispered softly. “Both him and Middleton pursued me for years. I never thought I’d be blessed to see the day he died. My only regret is that I couldn’t help you finish him off.”

I laid a reassuring hand on Eddie’s shoulder, urgin’ him to look away.

“Well...he’s as dead as they come now, thank God. We should move before we end up like him.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Come on, let’s...”

Eddie suddenly paused, jerking his head around in confusion as if he had just heard something.

I shrugged. “What?”

The pianist brought his gaze upwards, leadin’ him to point towards the sky.

“Arthur, look.”

Following his line of sight, I turned around and saw a magnificent rock formation dominating the landscape in the distance, as well as a group of people who were fightin’ on top of it.

The rock was shaped like an anvil and tilted towards the clouds with an incredible height, almost as if it were a ramp to the heavens themselves.

Once I took a better look though, I realized that the people standing atop weren’t just some random passersby. The majority of them was Pinkertons...and they were fighting Atticus.

“It’s Atticus,” I remarked nonchalantly. “So what?”

Eddie gave me a resolute stare, formulatin’ a plan in his head.

“...We have to kill him, Arthur.”

I pulled back at the idea, lookin’ at the other man in bewilderment.

“What? Eddie, we can’t--”

“--We have to,” he reiterated, taking hold of my hand. “If we don’t, he’ll never stop chasing us. Atticus already followed me to America. What makes you think he won’t follow us to England? This is our chance to eliminate him! Rodrick is dead, and the Pinkertons have him cornered. We can do this.”

I let out a deep breath, still tentative about the proposal.

“...You know how I feel about vengeance, Eddie.”

The pianist persisted. “This isn’t about vengeance. We’ve been looking at this all wrong, Arthur. We’re never going to be free if we just...keep running! We need to face Atticus head-on. We need to kill him. Otherwise, this journey’s never going to end. You know that.”

Chewin’ on my lip in thought, I pondered the decision for a while as I weighed our options, genuinely torn about what to do.

On one hand, I knew Eddie wasn’t gonna leave this place so long as Atticus still breathed. They had too much history. Too much to settle. They both needed closure.

And on top of that, I couldn’t deny that I conceded Eddie’s point about Atticus chasin’ us halfway across the world. That old man had done it before, after all, and I’d seen how relentless he could be for myself.

What worried me though, was the number of Pinkertons we’d have to fight through in order to reach him. They was givin’ him hell at the moment, and I wasn’t sure if Eddie and I would be able to kill that many people on our own.

I mean, we barely escaped death not too long ago. The last thing I wanted to do was tempt it even more.

But, then again...I knew Eddie well enough to know that once he had his mind set on something, it’d be foolish to get in his way.

As much as I wanted to just leave and high-tail it outta here, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Maybe this was our chance to get rid of Atticus.

Maybe we could finally put an end to this godforsaken war, and close this chapter in our lives.

We just had to be brave enough to do it.

“...Okay,” I agreed at last. “You’re right. Atticus needs to die.”

Eddie’s expression perked with hope, and a glint of excitement twinkled in his eyes.

“You mean, you’ll help me kill him?”

I nodded assertively and thought back to the day Eddie and I killed Middleton, swiftly takin’ out my revolvers as the two of us made our way to Atticus.

“For you...anything.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

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cyclone-rachel · 5 years

Text

Pay the Asking Price

a Supergirl fanfic

chapter 1

Kara knew, regardless of who or what she found, that her life would change once she opened the pod.

Change even more than it had in the past year- because after becoming Supergirl, and learning to defend her city, she’d just stopped her first alien invasion. She’d managed to keep Myriad from killing almost everyone and neutralized Non, while J’onn had taken care of Indigo. She’d launched Fort Rozz back into space where it belonged, even risking her own life… and after almost dying, she figured she deserved a little bit of a break. She needed time to slow down, to process what she’d gone through and make sense of it all.

But after the party she and her family had thrown, of course there was something to disrupt it once more, and in this case it was another pod.

Another Kryptonian pod, to be specific, although when she did indeed open it and get a good look at the person inside, she knew its passenger was anything but Kryptonian.

“Oh my god.” She said, looking down at the unconscious Coluan.

J’onn landed a moment later, following her gaze and taking a step back once his eyes landed on what Kara was looking at.

“This… complicates things.” He said.

“Yeah, he couldn’t have landed at a worse time.” Kara agreed, looking down at his hands and trying not to imagine them squeezing around her throat. “But we still have to help him, don’t we?”

“Yes.” J’onn said. “He may be more of a threat to us alone- at least, once he wakes up, he’ll know he isn’t, and if he’s anything like Indigo he won’t kill us first.”

“He might not be anything like her, we don’t know.” Kara answered. “But I guess that can wait until he wakes up.”

J’onn nodded, and Kara lifted the alien into her arms.

“Follow me.” J’onn said, and she did, without question.

After casually breezing through the whole Oh hey, there’s a DEO building in the middle of the city that we never told you about talk, Kara was more than ready to see the DEO’s new guest, the man who fell to Earth.

He was still sleeping, hooked up to monitors and currently lacking a shirt after his other one- black, with three silver dots in an upside-down triangle- was taken off in favor of placing the electrodes for the monitors. Winn was already in the room by the time Kara and Alex arrived, J’onn soon following them.

“Well, at least we don’t have to figure out where he’s from.” Kara started, pacing around him. “But why would he have a Kryptonian pod?”

“Okay, you may know what kind of alien he is, but maybe elaborate for the audience at home?” Winn joked. “All I know is, as soon as he wakes up I’m not letting him get anywhere near this.”

He holds up his tablet, before pulling it close to his chest and crossing his arms over it protectively. “I just got this thing, I’m not about to risk it being hacked by some-“

“Hey, hey, we don’t even know if he is a Brainiac.” Alex said.

“That’s right, Indigo said that symbol signified the Coluans- that’s her people, Winn.” Kara answered.

“Duly noted.”

“So he could be anyone.”

“Yeah. But, all we know right now is that he’s comatose, but his vitals are stable, and his breathing is normal. And I’m going to be running more tests on him until he wakes up.”

“Good work, Agent Danvers.” J’onn said. “Keep monitoring his condition, he still could be dangerous.”

Kara wanted to sigh- but then again, she knew he was right.

“So what do you suggest we do? Lock him up until we know for sure?”

“No.” Kara said immediately.

“You don’t have the authority to make that call.”

“Yeah, but I found him, and who knows what he’s actually like?” Kara answered. “He could be lonely and scared, just like me, and regardless of the planet he’s from he deserves to be treated like our guest for now. Okay?”

Alex and J’onn looked at her for a long while, then back to the unconscious man, before relenting when they looked at Kara again.

“Very well.”

“Alright. But, sir-“ Alex said, focusing on J’onn. “I would request that Winn help with the investigation. We need someone to analyze the pod’s telemetry, and Winn does read Kryptonian.”

“I also read Coluan!” Winn pointed out. “Although for the ship itself, Kryptonian is more relevant. But hey, maybe if he wakes up and can’t speak English, I could talk to him for you?”

“We’ll talk about that when we get there.” J’onn answered. “But if you want to prove your worth, Mr. Schott, find out something my team of highly-trained alien experts can’t.”

“Challenge accepted.”

“Let’s go.” J’onn said, Alex and Winn following him out- with Winn extending a hand toward Kara as he did.

“We’ll figure it out, Kara, I promise.” He said, as Alex and Kara walked out together, though Kara couldn’t help but take one more look at the Coluan, and hope he would wake up soon.

“I just invited Superman to visit our mystery guest.” Kara answered. “Fair warning, he might be…”

Kara coughed.

“Just, you know. This may surprise you.”

“Understood.” Clark said, as he followed J’onn. Alex and Kara joined them in the room, just soon enough to see the shock on Clark’s face.

“He landed on Earth last night, in a Kryptonian pod.” Kara explained. “We don’t know who he is.”

Clark could hardly stop the smile that was growing on his face, as he turned to her and answered, “I do.”

“Wait, you- you what?”

The brakes on Kara’s train of thought came to a screeching halt, as she stared at her cousin, who had pulled up a chair beside the Coluan and was currently gently brushing his hair back, whispering in his ear.

“I don’t think he can hear you.”

“Yeah, I know, but… there’s always a possibility.” He answered. “He’ll be okay. Hopefully before I leave, he’ll be awake and I can say hello to him.”

“You haven’t even told us who he is!”

“You used a quantum scan to determine his age, right?”

Kara sighed.

“First thing we did.”

“And did you X-ray vision him for foreign objects, like a cybernetic data core?”

“Clark…”

“Just making sure.”

“Fine, yes. He has a data core- no duh.”

“But will you tell me-“

“Okay!” Winn said, strolling in. “So, my handy-dandy translator just decrypted the pod’s data log. But…”

“But what?”

“Part of the data is missing.” He answered, holding up his tablet with a visual aid on it. “The data starts after he passes through some kind of disruption… but that can’t be all of it.”

“It probably isn’t.” Clark answered. “But it might’ve been destroyed while passing through the disruption, or he additionally encrypted it to keep it secret.”

“That’s… very specific.” Winn said, looking at him suspiciously. “How would you know?”

“Well, just to get things out in the open- we were friends.”

“What?” Kara asked. “You, and a-“

“A Brainiac? Yes.” Clark said. “But I didn’t know that at the time. How do I explain… you’ve been in the Fortress of Solitude, right?”

“Yes…”

“Did you see a ring there? All gold, with an L on it?”

“Yeah, but…”

“That ring comes from the future. The 30th century, to be precise- although the last time I visited, it was the 31st. Those who wear it are part of a superhero team, called the Legion of Super-Heroes- and, not to give many more spoilers, but they were inspired by you and me.”

“What?”

“I know, but I’ve seen our statues- they’re pretty impressive.”

“Oh my god, you went to the future? We have statues?”

“Yeah, when I was first starting out as Superman- you know, just casual saving lives, hadn’t even put on the tights and underwear yet- the Legion came and found me, in Smallville.” Clark answered. “They took me to their headquarters, and I trained with them. Learned from them, as they’d learned from me. It was… one of the best experiences I’ve ever had in my life, and I’ll never forget it. Or…”

He looked down at the man again.

“Or him. Although, he’s a bit older than when I last saw him. Probably around your age, Kara.”

“So what’s his name?”

“Querl Dox.” Clark said, pronouncing it with care. “Brainiac 5- or, as his friends call him, Brainy. Which I did, because…”

“Right.” Kara answered.

“The others doubted me, at first. I didn’t exactly look like the Superman they so admired. But Brainy never stopped believing in me. We saved each other more times than I can count, and I know the whole Legion really helped me onto the path to becoming Superman, but Brainy… he’s my hero. And a good person. You can trust that he won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“Well, of course we can take your word for it.” Kara said.

“I should hope so.” Clark said. “Take care of him.”

“We will.”

“And if you have any questions, please ask.”

Winn looked down at Querl, before meeting Clark’s eyes again, nervously.

“Yeah. We will.”

“Alright then, I’ll leave him in your capable hands.” Clark said. “When he wakes up, let me know.”

“Will do.”

Kara sat by his bedside, after everything.

It was late at night, and Clark had already gone back to Metropolis, was already missing her. She was already missing him, too, but he eventually stopped texting, and she put her phone away to watch Querl as he slept.

“I know what it’s like to be a stranger on this planet.” She said. “Stranger to this time period, even. So when you wake up, I’ll be here for you. So you never know what it’s like to be alone.”

Suddenly, activity spiked on the monitors, and Querl sat up, breathing heavily.

#papa don't look #supergirl au #supergirl season 2 au #fanfics #rachel talks about stuff #gosh i don't know what brought this on #but i hope it's okay #title comes from 'undone' by ffh #full line is 'come undone surrender is stronger i don't need to be the hero tonight'#'we all want love we all want honor nobody wants to pay the asking price'#and refusing that and being the hero is probably brainy's defining thing #it might not fit immediately but still

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pillowblaster · 6 years

Text

Greetings mortal! Are you ready to buy?

Seeing there's been interest in some lore behind the Guncaster, and I released the update lately, I might as well bother to exercise my writing skills again (if there are any) and explain some fun tidbits behind the new shopkeeper and perhaps his background, being older than GC itself, cause why not~

Art by Cage - DOCTOR, MY EYES APPEAR TO BE SWOLLEN!... WHAT?! TOO MUCH PORN? IMPOSSIBLE!

Hereby I present you Nithor Flaynithere - dragon deity of endless snarkitude!... Okay, patron of fury and courage actually, but that includes endless snarkitude. Formerly keeper of the eternal flame. Starter of a bloodline of dragons with anger management issues. As you know me, obscenely powerful cause I am sucha funny overkill guy, but he has his flaws and drawbacks to overcome. Cygnis is obviously his direct descendant somewhere down the line; don’t wanna tie my hands with an exact generation.

Cyg's Ancestor job at first was being a sort of head of security in the Dominion - think like where Olympus was an HQ for Greek gods, it was such place for the gods of Vernazij (Can just read it as Vernazi - I also have a thing for silent H’s in names, just in case), his homeworld. His top priority was tending to the aforementioned flame. He didn’t question things the way they were, as much as he started to grow bored... and suspicious. A branch of fellow, godly brethren, he could tell for sure, was plotting something. There was an ages long conflict going between them and the rest of the mostly-content deities and the inhabitants of the mortal coil ever since the whole universe was a thing.

Whaddaya starin’ at? I swear on me mum I’ll punch ya in the gabber, ya spineless tosser~

Oh yea, speaking of the universe!... The legend goes like this: An almighty deity had left their two descendants into an empty void, with a well of matter, energy and space to shape their own universe in a way they deemed fit, both as a test and as a testament to what he thaught them. But of course, being siblings with different concepts on what their world should be, it led to an obvious conflict of interests. They both ended up in the well after typical argument with just a bit more cosmic power involved. It caused a big bang of sort and they got absorbed into their own creation. Once things settled in a little after the initial blast, first deities and supreme beings got formed, forged to carry out their will. Yes, they were still waging petty conflict between themselves even after they got evaporated, go figure. They went onto forming massive armies to fight and prevail with their concepts of forming the universe. From the ashes of broken matter and the corpses of destroyed creatures - the universe kept on forming itself on its own whereas the first inhabitants didn't even notice that miracle even going. They were too busy killing each other.

As the fight had progressed, some planets did form their own life!... But didn't quite make it due to the whole conflict of cosmic proportions. They became the victims of collateral damage. Still, as the shaping force kept going and the destructive forces kept on dwindling, only inhabitants of few planets across zillions of them were able to survive, step back and come into conclusion that their conflict at this point was undesirable and pointless. They realized everything was already formed out of chaos, without much of their involvement. They were too busy fighting over missed opportunity. Now it was just a battle of who would take control over the results of said uninvolvement. The deities of one of such cases came into agreement. They decided to sit back and see how things will go on from here, as much as that was an uneasy peace. They named their home - Vernazij. (It supposed to mean something metaphorical for all the forming that world went through, but again, couldn't think of anything clever enough yet. I AM SUCHA GREAT STORYTELLER HOLY SHIT~)

You have a ‘what’, napping in your living room?

Over the course of years, things have stabilized - respective roles that were fitting given gods’ particular set of skills were given, treaties were made, tasks were completed... suddenly, Mortals! Local gods went “They look so familiar! And adorable~”. Powerless, fragile creatures that often resembled the deities, they were another byproduct of the self-sustained world creation. The gods didn't have much ideas on what to do with them, seeing they were pretty weak. so they had let them be. That was until some of them helped their mini-me’s, or did quite the opposite. Their fear or reverence resulted in worship. Worship gave them power, so gods started unhealthy competition over the mortal souls in their respective fields, forming alliances, breaking them, stabbing themselves in the back, or protecting themselves from the others - generally, you know, your favorite part that divides or brings everyone together - politics. Every god could store their worship as some kind of power, as much as one spot wasn't decidedly taken over. The irony of no one being courageous or dedicated enough to become the patron of courage. All brave acts sparked as an eternal flame instead. Nithor was denied to become its patron by old gods, saying he was “not ready”, whatever that meant. So he was just protecting the flame and the whole Dominion instead.

Sir, we are late for burning time!

As the time passed without any relatively bigger conflicts, some of the older caste of gods, still having in mind “the great plan” and the responsibility behind it, feared the day when the Great God will visit their plane. They predicted it might end up with a total disaster, seeing how they seemingly failed to carry out the will of his children. As they were scheming about taking the universe's fate into their own hands, the mortals were rather unhappy with how the old gods were ignoring them and grew to be a force to be reckoned with. They somehow breached into Dominion, which technically was impossible for mortals to do so. Nithor tried his best to fend off the angry mob off (despite his obvious disdain towards old gods, duty was a duty). But that was too much for him, even for years of staying valiant. He tried his best to keep the mortals off the premise of the eternal flame without killing anyone (no word about work-related harm, though), the flame got dispersed and tainted, and looked for a nearest, suitable vessel to claim, which happened to be him - being the best, viable candidate.

I should probably make some pics depicting the story instead, but laziness. Look at that thicc boi lazy it out~

As the things calmed down, he begrudingly resigned from his job as a keeper, considering that the flame was no more and he failed to keep the place secured. The old gods got banished from Dominion onto Vernazij’s plane. Being unaware of his state as a wielder of the slowly self-corrupting flame, he took on a life of a demigod and an adventurer as his longed form of a vacation, seeing how he was done with the godhood. He went onto numerous adventures, met a lot of folk, got married, had kids, stabilized his life... All was good and dandy, despite the more and more obvious problem of the flame rearing out, but nothing that he couldn't manage - he just blamed it on some magic diarrhea of sorts, being as oblivious to his status as ever... Well, that was until huge accident happened. Or more like, an incident. A one that had changed the world forever, which got named in the legends as the Deadmaker's March.

That whole mess was orchestrated by his old god workmates - starting from leaving a breach in the Dominion’s defenses for mortals to enter, then letting the eternal flame to be disturbed. Their exodus was also obviously predicted part. They knew what the flame was capable of and wanted to weaponize it, but it needed a vessel... which Nithor was an obvious candidate for, but they needed both him and the flame to be unstable. After getting him on the edge by destroying his family and everything he valued from behind the scenes - Nithor went onto a rampage Vernazij has never seen before and thereafter. Only by combined forces of all mortals and all the gods they were able to seal him away, as defeating nor controlling him was impossible - every single act of force against him was only making him stronger and even more furious. The old gods initial plan had failed, they wanted to rebuild the world from its ashes as it should be in their eyes. Still, they got their much-sought retribution after having a hand in the process of capturing him. Their scheming continued.

Mona Lisa as fuck.

And what about Nithor? As much as they tried to fool him, speak into his senses to become their ally in their quest for the control over the universe “for the greater good”... He saw through their intentions of destroying anything that doesn’t want to abide to their will or worldview, which made him hate them with all his guts - he valued his own and the universe’s freedom of choice above all. After spending three millenias in fury-blinded seclusion, he breaks out from his prison, dead-set on murdering them all and anything that dares to stand in his path. As a last act of the prison's purpose, it used all the energy it stored by draining his unrelenting fury to get him back into senses, and seal it away. Unphazed by that event, he sets forth on a mission to kick the old gods' butts into oblivion (or whatever constitutes for them as butts) by retrieving his old gear as a keeper, getting control over his horrid power and single-handedly dealing with all of them. However, as three millenias worth of time was more than enough for them to prepare a whole plethora of nasty surprises, such as painting him as an evil villain in the eyes of the whole world and themselves as icons of pure intentions (imagine that whole narrative in history for past millenias is painting you as a Sauron of the universe) - his mission became harder and more complicated than ever. They hid the truth under unparalleled amounts of lies, and destroyed any evidence they could find that could prove otherwise. The fact that Nithor had all the looks and wits of a supreme asshole didn’t help on his case, either.

I am a tallyman of your mistakes. I am the executioner for your sins. Now face what you have poured into me, for what I’ll pour into you.

...Hot damn, that actually sounded pretty intimidating, go me, bwa-ha ha!

Most of his allies are either gone in the sands of time, or still mad at him, if they didn’t bite the dust yet. He scored couple millions of deaths during his grudge-filled killing spree, so you can imagine how many souls are willingful out there to get near or even think about hearing him out... Quite the contrary, with a little exception that are the depths of Taumthegos - the local equivalent of Hell. He is being revered there for obvious reasons.

A cynical jerk by trade, Nithor’s temptation to do the easy thing and go ballistic is strong. But he is not without a heart, even after everything he went through and people hating his guts, he refuses to do so. He felt partially responsible for all the mess he got involved in and wanted to prove everyone wrong and show who’s the real enemy here. He kept finding clues about old gods’ mischief during his time of absence. The problem was, with all due respect for his pure intentions, his rather abrasive nature. More often than not, he screwed up his opportunities on coming out as a good guy. He was hellbent on getting shit done and ignorant about anything that wasn’t helpful towards his quest, rather than approaching the people who were interested in hearing him out and finding a common goal. He still had plenty of humor and determination (and lack of common sense) to go against the whole world which hated him so much for sins of days long past. And a whole journey to go through to learn again how to be a decent being. The truth is the ultimate value, no matter how painful or regretful it might be - he will bring it out.

So lemme tell you Victor, the story of the great!... Meeee!... Crap, that sounded better in my head. I should have just used my name or something. Should I start over?

Considering that Cygnis and his descendants are a thing and I am writing this whole ordeal in retrospect, you can safely assume that he had succeeded in getting his good name and life (to a degree) back. But what constitutes of his adventures, how he knows about Earth and its fineness of culinary such as the casserole and how he got in touch with his late grandson?

...Those are stories for another time!

Tl;dr yada yada that’s a lot of bullshit. Kerist, that was stressful to pull off. Hoping that at least it’s somewhat enjoyable, to a degree.

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txnystarkimagines · 7 years

Text

Paradox (Part 1/?)

Disclaimer: This story contains triggering content that includes: violence, abuse (both domestic and sexual), as well as emotional trauma, anxiety, and PTSD. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED. I repeat, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED,OR TRIGGERED. I apologize for inconveniences caused by me.

Pairings: Peperony, eventual Tony Stark X Reader

Words:1600

Author’s Note:So here it is! The first part of the fic I have been planning since the last two years.

Permanent Tag List: Permanent Tag Lists@sybil-howlett @palaiasaurus64 @sherlockholmesisbae @redroomproperty@alwaysoutoftheordinary @withouthannah @metaphysicalmisha@andybubblebath @secretninjachild @whatshernamemaria @pou-noikiazeis-to-oneiro @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive @niallandsebastianaremylife @raindancer2004 @v-esperteen @purpledolphin-f @sour-kangaroo1998 @princeffreeshgoddessofgreatbooty @melizzzabeth

Paradox Tag List: @melizzzabeth @lovely-geek @fanficqueen306 @whatshernamemaria

Masterlist

Paradox Masterlist

Request here/Tags are open.

Things the reader needs to know before reading it:

This is an alternative universe where Iron Man 3 takes place before Iron Man 2 and before the Avengers.

Consequently, Tony does not get the reactor taken out before the Battle Of NewYork.

In addition, Pepper’s EXTREMIS was not fully cured.

Tony Stark is younger in this story, approximately 36-38.

The age difference between the male and female protagonists is slightly more than usual.

Eleanor is 27.

Eleanor stood at the reception of Stark Tower, drumming her fingers against the granite top. It was February, almost March and NewYork was so god damn cold. Even as she stood in the fully, centrally heated reception area, gusts of cold air could be seen coming out of her mouth as she breathed. The glass walls of the tower were all fogged up, and almost everyone had a cup of coffee on their hands, and scarves wrapped around the necks, cocooned in thick warm coats. Eleanor too was no exception, while she did not have the cup of coffee with her, her clothing choices were quite similar. Though she regretted dressing to impress today with only sheer tights cover her legs, she was still shivering. Eleanor had been out all day applying for and giving job interviews. But no she wasn’t here to apply for a job in Stark Industries. She was actually here at the request of her long time and only friend Pepper Stark wife of Tony Stark, better known to the world as Stark’s PA,with a different last name. It came as a shock to her when the couple decided to not reveal the information to the world and settle on a small wedding, with only close family and friends in a private island. Even more so when they decided to hide their new born son Exton, now six months old from the world.

“How may I help you miss?” The lady at the desk snapped Eleanor out of her thoughts.

“Oh hey, I am here to meet Ms. Potts.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No I don’t, but I am sure she has the slot booked."She replied.

"Yes, you do. Sorry for the inconvenience, here is your pass. Please make sure to keep it with you at all times and return it when you are leaving.”

Eleanor only smiled in return, making her way down to the elevator, fortunately empty. Some old rock music lightly played in the background, as the lift made its way up to the top most floor, the penthouse Stark suite. She wondered what was so urgent that Pepper wanted to talk to her about, the last time she met her was three weeks ago.

The elevator doors opened right into the living room.Right opposite was a whole wall made of glass, giving a view of the foggy New York skyline and the Empire State Building right adjacent to it. The sitting area was a huge circular step down portion where a couch wrapped around on one side, with huge chairs on the opposite side, and a cocktail table in between. A modern abstract chandelier hung up, with the fire place reflecting off of it.

“Look what the cat brought in."Tony greeted Eleanor as she entered. In his lap rested the little bundle of joy, better yet Exton, as he previously cooed and played with him.Tony Stark, a father and a good one. Who would have thought? She scoffed internally.

"Stark,"Eleanor nodded at him."Where is Pepper?"She asked, deciding to take a seat in the sitting and have a little talk with him.

"In bed, where else?"He looked at her.

"What about the reports?”

“Not better, if not worse."He stated cynically, with an undertone to his voice.

"How much time does she have?”

“She is not dying.” He snapped.

“Stark,” She sighed.

“No, she isn’t. I have got the best doctors on spot, I have research projects going on down in the lab with various others around the world. She will not die."He seethed. "Anyways why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” Eleanor got up,“She is my friend. For fuck’s sake, Tony!”

“It’s Mr. Stark to you.And no you aren’t. Why don’t you stop pretending that you are here for her and not for the charity?”

Eleanor’s heart panged at the thought, but she ignored it, there was a lot worse she had endured.This was nothing.

“You are unbelievable!” Eleanor exclaimed, storming out of the room and up the stairs that led to the bedrooms floor.

Is that what he really thought of her? That she was a gold digger, only caring for her best friend’s bank balance. It was true that Pepper had helped her settle down after the divorce, buying her an apartment and all, because she had nothing except her clothes at that point in life. And honestly she had tried to refuse the offer but Pep was just so damn persistent! But she had promised herself that one day she will pay back each and every single penny, even if it is ten years down the line she will, Eleanor promised herself.

Reaching the door of the master bed, El knocked loudly.

“Come in."A frail voice came from the other side.

Just as the precaution she peeped her head in before entering. "Hey!"Eleanor greeted.

There she was, the great Pepper Potts, bed ridden since the past few months. She was almost half of what she used to be, with even thinner frail hair than before. Her eyes seemed sunken, and her collar bones jutted out of the top she was wearing in an unhealthy manner.

"How are you?” Eleanor asked for Pepper’s well being, taking a seat in the lounge chair next to the bed.

“Dandy,"Pepper mumbled, as Eleanor placed her purse down on the floor.

"So..”

“So..” Pepper imitated her but ended up in a coughing fit.

“Here take some water."Eleanor immediately got up from her seat.handing her the glass from the well-organized nightstand.

As she waited for Pepper to settle down Eleanor played with the loose threads hanging from her black scarf.

"You said you wanted to talk to me about something?"She asked.

"Yeah, we kind need Tony here for that too."Pepper replied.

"Pep.What is it? You are worrying me."Eleanor spoke.

"Uh..”

“Pepper, it’s ok. I am pretty sure it’s not that bad."She assured.

Pepper took a deep breath.

"IamgoingtodivorceTony.”

“Huh?”

“I am going to.Divorce Tony. My Husband."Pepper stated with pauses in between, waiting for Eleanor to take in the information.

"WHAT?"Eleanor stood up in shock."Are you crazy? Are you out of your mind? Did he do something? Did he cheat? Because I swear if he did I am going to kick his ass and not even his Iron Man suit will be able to save him."Eleanor rambled.

"No, it’s nothing like that."She coughed."Take a seat El, please.”

So Eleanor plopped back in her seat. “Pepper, seriously what the hell?”

“Look, El. I was gonna tell the both of you at the same time, but I think telling you beforehand is better."She took a deep breath, not used to speaking so much in her condition.

"Pepper, honestly I am honoured that you decided to tell me before anyone.But I am not at all glad about what you are doing or why even? And all things aside, why would you wanna tell him as well as me at the same time?"You asked."But most importantly why?”

“I wanted to tell the both of you at the same time because when I divorce him, I want you to marry Tony.”

Eleanor’s eye’s widened in shock. She didn’t even have the temperament to process what she was saying and stand up in shock.What the actual hell? Was Pepper out of her god damn mind? She admitted that the redhead was sick, but not this much.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I want you to marry my husband.”

Eleanore broke out into hysterical laughter. “Rea-lly?"She spoke in between laughs. "Nice one Pepper. Glad to see you still have your humor."She stated, calming down.

"I am serious Eleanor.”

“You have got to be kidding me."She calmed down.

"No, I am not.”

“But why?”

“Becuase I am dying.You honestly don’t think I don’t know that?"Pepper’s voice broke."The pain gets worse every day. I know that the EXTREMIS is killing me. Tony doesn’t know but I have asked JARVIS to tell me about my vitals every three hours and they get worse every passing second.My organs are literally eating each other and a point will come when every nerve, every vein, every vessel in my body is going to burst. And there is nothing that can be done about it.Even right now as I speak it hurts so much, but I am doing it. I am doing all of this for the sake of my child and husband. When I die, I need to know someone will be looking after them, that I am leaving them in the right hands. And you are the only one I trust enough to do so. So I am asking you right now, as a mother, as a wife, as your friend, as a sister, and as the person who saved you all those months ago, will you do it? Will you marry my husband?” // thoughts? //

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x pepper potts #tony stark imagine #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #paradox #robert downey #robert downey kr #rdj #tony stark #tony stark angst #tony stark smut #pepperony #txnystarkimagines

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hpgal-with-httydpals-blog · 7 years

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Imperatore et Lupum (pt. 1)

aka @asktheboywholived‘s The Empire AU, with a few minor tweaks to make it more of my style. I really hope google translate didn’t fail me on the Latin.

In the age of Ancient Rome, there was a royal family, who’s records were lost to historians, and who’s story was never told. Even if it were to be found, the modern day person might have assumed it to be myth, or folk lore, as the family had ruled over the age of Rome that held the most magic of all. It was also the darkest.

They were known as the Black’s, a family so powerful, they were deemed as Gods to the common people, and were considered untouchable.

All, except the young heir, Sirius Orion Black.

He would be of age in a year, and would soon take the throne. All of this would be fine and dandy, if the boy had already found a wife.

As the family walked in parade with the elite’s on their way to the grand Colosseum for a gruesome show, he and his passionate mother had a whispered, though aggressive conversation on his bachelorhood.

“You’ve met every girl who’s worthy of the throne, not only in the city, but in the whole region!”

“Perhaps the woman I seek is not apart of the elites.” Sirius responded smugly to his mother’s bereavement.

“I would rather die than see you married to an unworthy, commoner.” The Empress hissed.

Sirius chuckled humorlessly, and thankfully the rest of their walk was held in silence.

The show they were on their way to see, was mostly a show for those participating in it. In the last week their had been an uprising in a community of creatures known as Beasts. The Beasts look identical to other townsfolk during the daytime, but once a month on the full moon, their true nature was shown in full. They were also known to be particularly aggressive during other time of the month as well, in fact, it took most of the standing Roman army to combat them.

Typically, Beasts were used as slaves, or weapons. In fact, Sirius knew of many Beasts who worked both in the palace, and in the fields that grew the families own personal food - untouchable to the public.

The pack of Beasts had been thriving just under the noses of the the Emperor, and had managed to start a full scale takeover of the city. However it seemed insignificant, as the army had massacred over half of their already small population. The survivors were meant to battle to the death in the arena, overlooked by the elites and the royal family, so that they knew their place even as they were slaughtered.

Sirius had found this a rather cruel fate, as he had been silently cheering the Beasts on. The Gods only knew had badly he wanted to see the end of his parents reign. Sirius saw how cruelly they treated their own people, and while he wanted to help them, he had no interest in becoming Emperor.

He had no interest in watching the bloodshed either. Sirius had spent his entire life in the palace, where on more than one occasion he saw slave being whipped, or simply saw them being dragged away, kicking and screaming, towards the Colosseum, or to some other cruel form of death.

Not to mention, what his own family did to one another when no one was looking.

They entered the grand arena, and were immediately greeted by a man Sirius knew to be Fenrir Greyback. He was a Beast as well, but he had long ago made an alliance with the royal family, and had lead the army against his own kind himself.

“Good morrow, Your Majesties.” He said with a toothy grin that made Sirius shudder in both horror and disgust. “I’m sure this will be a fine show.”

“How many are there?” His deranged cousin Bellatrix asked with an obvious tone of joy.

“Twelve. All had been close in the pack. Now we watch them fight to the death.” Fenrir said, a taunting laughter was evident in his voice. Bellatrix let out her own bark of twisted laughter, and that was all Sirius really processed before he started zoning out the world around him.

The royal family took their seats in their box, waiting for the show to begin. Sirius wanted to be anywhere but where he was. He hated these public displays of murder a backstabbing. The thought that some of the elite brought their young children to these events made him sick. He knew that for the next few weeks, he would have nightmares of the arena, the tigers and lions that came from who-knows-where, the gladiators and the beasts who mercilessly beat already dead bodies just to make sure they would still get out of there alive. The blood that splattered the floor, the walls, and the warriors themselves.

Before long, Sirius noticed the tall, almost regal looking man who was being lead to the center of the arena, hands tied behind his back, by a guard who wore a uniform that covered their whole body, so that no one would notice their true identity.The heir of Rome knew who this was. The leader of the group, who was going to be made a public example of. Sirius hoped that since the man had some rank, the execution would not be so brutal.

He was sorely mistaken.It was the longest, bloodiest, most painful looking execution Sirius had ever seen in the arena, and that’s saying something. The man was repeatedly stabbed until no inch of his body was left unbloodied except his head, before that too was walloped off with one stroke of the guards sword.

Sirius grimaced, he closed his eyes but that did not block out the sounds, and if he covered his ears it would be too noticeable, and his family would ridicule him for months, and inevitably force him to go watch more of these events.Instead, Sirius thought it best to try and concentrate on other matters.

He turned to look at his mother, who had her eyes locked on the arena, he expression calm as she slowly fanned herself with the ornate, lacy hand fan his cousin Narcissa had gifted her with just hours before.

“Mother,” he started softly so that no one else heard. “I’d like to make a deal with you.”

The Empress turned to face him. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“I’ll let you pick who I marry, so long as I am allowed to have affairs of my own.”

His mother narrowed his eyes. “You want me to turn a blind eye on your disloyalty?

“It wouldn’t be disloyalty if she knows I’m doing it,” Sirius insisted casually. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind if my future wife had her own affairs.”

She seemed to ponder this. “If I let you do this, you must produce an heir and carry on the reign of Black.”

“Of course.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

Just then, gongs rang throughout the stadium, and the gates that lined the arena slowly raised open to reveal the chained Beasts.

The fight to the death had begun.

Remus was in chains. As one of the few Beasts who survived their failed revolution, he found himself prepared to face his death at the hands of his allies.

The chamber was dark. The only light came from a tiny eye flap, which had been opened so that he could see his leader, the only father he ever remembered, one of the few people he still respected, brutally executed.

Remus had never felt so scared before. He prided himself in being extremely brave, but the prospect of having to fight the vary people who had practically raised him, until they were all but one dead? That terrified him. After Romulus’s death, Remus found himself freed from the chains, but not the chamber. He didn’t remember anyone coming into unfasten the shackles, nor did he remember them even simply falling away. But then, he heard the mighty ring of gongs echo loudly through his small, temporary room, and the gate in front of him began to open. He was pushed by an unseen force into the arena, and the gates slammed shut again. He looked around. He recognized all the remaining survivors. The woman who watched over the little one’s while their parents trained, the man who had taught him how to fight, the man who did the night watch, the woman who had beat him once during training. Out of all of them, he was at the most disadvantage. He was the youngest. but Remus doomed himself to his fate already. One of these people whom he had once loved, would become his murderer. He told himself that he would only fight in defense. He thought all of this in the span of two seconds, because before he knew it, they were charging at each other, and the killing had begun. The rest of his time in the arena was a blur. He defended himself when he needed to, at one point killing one of the men. He vaguely recognized a feeling of disgust welling up in his chest. Remus had hoped that they had all thought like him, that they all were wary of killing each other just for the entertainment of the Roman public. But instead they had fallen for the bait, they were killing each other, scratching each other, ripping each other apart with their own hands. They kicked up so much dirt and dust that he couldn’t see two feet in front of him. They were becoming the animals they had fought to show the world they weren’t all of their time together had fallen to pieces right before Remus’s eyes. Then, when the dirt and haze cleared, he realized that nine out of the twelve were dead. How long did it take? Only thirty minutes? An hour? Two at most, though Remus knew in his heart it didn’t even take that long. He watched the other two fight, tired out, weakly wrestling each other. One of their hands tightly around the other’s throat and then - Blood splattered the arena floor, and Remus’s face. He blinked, wiping away the blood to see that the other two were skewered together with a spear. They fell to the ground dead. Remus turned to see who had thrown the spear. His face hardened. Fenrir Greyback.

Remus felt hot anger well up in his chest. This man was just like the rest of them. He had come into their pack saying he wanted to join their cause, but really only wanted to destroy them all for the Royal family of Rome. Remus had suspected him from the beginning, and yet he had been too late to act -

Greyback turned to face the royal box, bowing before he spoke loudly so the entire Colosseum could hear.

“I’m sparing this one.”

Sirius admired the Beast who did not engage of any of the fighting. He kept his eyes on him, hoping that his inevitable death would be less painless than the ones happening all around him. Sirius liked that the boy still had his dignity.

Although Sirius was hoping he would come out on top, he doubted the young man would make it to the end of the fight. His defensive skills were a sight to be seen, but if he attacked no one, he would never win.

When there were only three Beasts remaining, they sent Fenrir to finish them off. Sirius felt a pang of pity and the boy he’d been watching watched the other two battle it out, his face an expression of shock and horror, which doubled when they were both speared through the middle.

When Fenrir turned to kill the last of the Beasts, he did something that surprised them all thoroughly.

“I’m sparing this one.”

It wasn’t like Fenrir to give up the chance to kill anyone. Though some part of Sirius was happy the boy would live, there was a spark of fear that flared up in him when he caught a glimpse of his mother’s face. She was livid.

She stood, and looked as though she was going to shout back at Fenrir to finish the boy off, but Sirius stopped her.

He didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he grabbed her by the skirt of her dress and whispered privately to her.

“I choose him.”

She stared at him for a moment, then turned back to Fenrir in the arena.

“Take the survivor to the palace. He’s to become a slave for my son.”

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ambieec · 6 years

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DAY ONE

Whoa. INFORMATION OVERLOAD. Ryan and I showed up bright and early for our blood work today to start the embryo freeze process. The waiting room was filled to the brim with women/couples. I felt horrible having to bring Roman with us- I felt like we were getting the side eye a lot.

But those women don’t know that I have cancer and lost an ovary 5 months after he was born. And that it could come back and take both ovaries. Or that chemo could leave me completely infertile. Or worst case- take my life. They just see a healthy baby-and a seemingly healthy YOUNG mother and probably wish they had it as good as I do.

Looks can be so deceiving can’t they?

This just goes to show how everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.

After the bloodwork, Ryan took Roman home and I waited to meet with a nurse and to get an ultrasound before attending the 2 hour IVF class.

Whew. Busy day.

I found out I have around 7 follicles in my right ovary. Hopefully enough to produce 10 eggs. To better our chances since I only have one ovary and will be producing half of what I normally would, we are using ICSI. This is where they examine the spermie wormies under a microscope, pick the best looking ones and inject them directly into the center of the egg. 70-80 percent of those will form into blastocysts. At my age, probably half will be genetically normal and survive a 5 day culture where they can be genetically tested. We are *hoping* for 3-4 genetically healthy embies to freeze but that’s a bit optimistic I think. But, we are both young- so we have a higher likelihood of them being normal. I would be happy with 2!! (FINGERS CROSSED GIRLS)

Sounds complicated huh? IT IS. And expensive as shit so if this doesn’t work, we’re going to be shit outa luck. Luckily our insurance covers $20,000 of infertility benefits. But we are easily going to reach that maximum- most likely on this cycle. WITHOUT EVEN TRANSFERRING AN EMBRYO. To help minimize the costs, we’re paying certain things out of pocket because we can get a major discount. Such as a $700 vial of medication. AFTER DISCOUNTS. WHICH IS ONLY THREE DAYS WORTH AND I NEED AT LEAST 4 REFILLS. YEA. Do the math. 😫😫 Luckily, (well- not luckily, fortunately is a better word) I was able to receive most of my medications for free due to my cancer diagnosis. Except for the most expensive one 🙄. The nurse feels sorry for me and is trying to find me some free refills/donations of the $700 one. FINGERS CROSSED.

IVF is not cheap. At all. We are VERY fortunate Ryan’s job offers amazing insurance and that we have this benefit in the first place. Many people don’t get this luxury so we’re super thankful for it. The scariest part is even going through all of this- physically, financially and emotionally, there is no guarantee we will come out the other end with another baby in the future. But we can at least try. That’s all we can do.

So anyways, I attended the IVF class. All was fine and dandy until I learned I had to inject myself every night with NEEDLES. WITH AN “S”. Yes. Every night for the first week, I inject myself with two medications into my stomach that I have to mix and administer myself. Next week, three medications. And on trigger day, a long ass 2 inch needle. Right in the ASS. Sorry Ryan, you have to take one for the team because there’s NO way I can do that one myself. We practiced for about an hour on fake butts and I felt pretty confident I could do it. No big deal.

Until I sat on my couch tonight for 20 minutes, gathering the courage to poke and inject myself with the medication. ITS NOT FUN PEOPLE.

AND NOW IM HAVING A HOT FLASH.

Gotta love hormones 😂

I also looked at Ryan and thought, you asshole. All you have to do is go into a room on retrieval day, jerk off into a cup (which is pleasurable) and you’re done. MUST BE NICE. Meanwhile I’m injecting myself multiple times every night, suffering side effects like hot flashes, mood swings, fatigue, bloating, etc, getting a probe shoved up my hoo-ha at least every other day to monitor the eggs, and a massive needle up the va-jay jay to remove said eggs.

MUST BE FUCKING NICE.

But I’m not mad. I’m thankful it’s possible. I’m thankful for my life. I’m thankful that we are already blessed with little Roman. As shitty as this whole situation is, I can’t help but be thankful for what I already have.

Anyways, that pretty much sums up day one of the IVF process. I’m going to try and document each day because:

1. I want to remember every moment of it. The good, bad and ugly.

2. If anyone who reads this is considering or going forward with IVF- this is what to expect.

Anyways- I’m going to enjoy this beer and hit the hay. Unfortunately we have an alarm clock that has been deciding that 5am is a good wake up time.

Lord help me 😫

#infertility #ovarian cancer #ivf treatment #ivf #embryo

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heartnhustleblog-blog · 7 years

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Fear and Success go hand in hand

The best learning lessons are in your failures. Without failure, we would never learn.

So many people I know, including myself put so much pressure on themselves to be perfect. We have become so afraid to fail this day and age, there is no wonder why anxiety issues are at their all time high. In an era where we are constantly forced, if not literally shoved in our faces, to compare ourselves to the success and progress of others. From personal experience, this makes it almost impossible not to be afraid to fail. Its almost like, were all racing up this super steep mountain trying to make it to the top, and if you just make on little false movement you’ll completely lose your place, and end up at the bottom with all the other failures.

FEAR is such a powerful word, with so much context. I think most people live a life doing their best to steer clear of it. To fear something means its bad, end of story. If you are put into a fearful situation, you are putting yourself in immediate danger.

I say, “BULLSHIT.”

Fear is your ego guiding you to stay the same.

Ego is lazy, ego hates change. Ego hates change because ego likes to stay in control. Ego would rather stay in a warm comfort blanket because it is easier that way. If you want change, if you want progress, if you want success, you need to challenge your ego.

Fear is not scary. Fear is just another way to say “Maybe” “what if” and “let us see”. Fear is temptation, challenge and a learning lesson all in one. Fear is chance and faith. It gives us the foundations to build trust. If you are afraid that’s a good thing! It gives you the first steps to beginning a journey, but you have to keep traveling forward to see the outcome.

Fear creates progress

If Bilbo didn’t agree to go with the dwarfs the Lord of the Rings would of never been written. He didn’t want to at first, if fact he was just fine and dandy hanging out having second breakfast for the rest of his life. That was Bilbo’s ego. We know this because eventually, deep down, we found out that adventure was exactly what he had wanted for a very long time.

How many times throughout your life have you been afraid of something, only to do it again and again so much that it just became second nature. Do you think your baby self was super confident to walk? No. I’m pretty sure your brain told your body many times that it was pretty freaking scary. You probably fell a lot, and sometimes it sucked, and each time your brain was like “ I dunno man, maybe we should keep crawling.” But after every failed attempt you learned something new, and eventually you took your first step…and then fell again. After many failed attempts you got the hang of it. Now, you don’t even think about walking, its just natural. (excluding the nights after one too many tequila shots and bad decisions).

My old roommate and I have a saying, “It is just like traffic.” When we first moved to the city, she was terrified to drive on the freeway. For someone who has never had to, it is pretty damn scary. For the first few months she avoided driving at all cost. Until she met a boy, and was forced to endure the horrible concrete jungle maze of the city. Eventually, she got used to it. So much so by the end of our first year living in the city driving on the freeways was like second nature. In fact, it was optimal…learning the freeway system was easier than learning all the intricate side streets and dead ends of the city. That doesn’t mean there were many wrong turns, traffic jams, and very close near death experiences involved. Eventually though, every close call and wrong turn she learned more about the system. To the point that it was just part of life. So now, anytime we are in a situation we fear but it is vital to adapt to , we say to one another “its just like traffic.”

I am my hardest critic. At this point in my life I have lived past caring about the expectations of others. I could give a flying rats ass about what a majority of the population thinks about me. However, my biggest fear, is letting myself down. I have such high expectations for myself, that I am constantly afraid of disappointing myself. As a result through the years I have learned one thing. I would rather try it, and learn that I suck at it or don’t like it, than live my whole life wondering “what if.” My curiosity for experience out weighs my fear of failing. By now, I have become so good at failing that I’m pretty sure I could make it my career. The amount of experience I have from my failures have become so vast and broad that in truth, I could. For a long time I was uncomfortably obsessed with a guy. We had a couple little exchanges over the years but nothing to serious to render us to be the next Niccolas Sparks novel. One random night a friend convinced to text him to see how he was and to let him know I was thinking about him. The idea literally almost gave me a heart attack it made me so nervous. It had been about six months since our last encounter. Things were weird, and honestly didn’t really go so smooth. Finally after a few confidence lubricants (cocktails) I finally decided to hit send. My heart sank waiting for his response. I was so nervous I was shaking. In truth though I knew it was something I had to do. I was thinking about him, and I was curious about his new life. The worst that could happen was that he wouldn’t text back. In that case, I would then know that there was officially no point in trying ever again, and I could close that door for good. I fell asleep that night with confidence after not receiving a response, knowing that at least I got closure. I would of never had that without sucking down my pride. I was now free of my curiosity towards the situation. It was now the starting blocks that I need to help myself heal and move on from the situation.

I think instead of the fear of failure, we need to learn to embrace it. In 2016 Leticia Bufoni, a Nike Pro female skateboarder, face planted the concrete after trying to perform a very tactical trick in the super crown. It was her last shot at the crown that year and she blew it. She was immediately rush to hospital where she suffered several head injuries. You think that stopped her from getting back up and trying again? Ego bruised, and a little terrified. I have no doubt that the first push off after the incident was just a wee bit shaky, but she pushed through it (literally). She got back on her board and ended up winning second place in 2017. She studied her failures, she embraced them, she learned from her mistakes and used them to become a better athlete. In an interview later asking her about her fear of falling she could only say “I can’t give up, that’s not an option.” Her fear of not trying, out weighed her fear of failing.

If you fall off of the horse, dust that shit off, and get back on. Every fall you learn something, and every attempt the horse uses to buck you off wears it out. Eventually ones going to give. Either you give up, or the horse breaks.

Either you give up, or something happens that leads you to success.

Or at minimum progress. The best thing you can do for yourself is to teach yourself to find love and passion in the progress and the process and not to focus on the finish line. When we notice an athlete we only ever see their results. We only ever see them winning the race, the game, or the competition. People hardly think about what they had to do to get there. No one considers the hard work and sacrifices they had to make. Failed relationships, not being able to eat certain things, giving up a constant social life, days when you’re body is so tired and sore it’s hard to even chew, but you have to because you have to cram in a certain amount of calories to sustain your body. People want a big booty but never consider that it takes a lot of hard work in the gym and a lot of times to sit on the toilet hurts. It hurts to walk 5 days out of the week. Football players and extreme athletes often have body aches and constant head aches from previous impact to their head. Female runners usually sacrifice the ability to conceive due to the long term effects it has on their body. When you see an amazing photo of a well trimmed body and body composition competitors, they generally are starving during the shoot or competition. Yet, I can bet though if you were ask a majority of athletes why they do it, they’ll tell you something along the lines of “ because I love seeing my progress, I love the challenge, I love seeing how much my hard work pays off. I love the process.”

Life is scary, but that’s why it is so fun. Understanding why you are afraid of something and confronting it is the first steps towards being stronger and confident. Once you know why you’re scared, you can confront it. Failing from our risks teaches the fundamentals needed to be better. I gives us the building blocks to change the outcome. If you don’t asses your fears you can’t figure out what you need to change in order to see progress. Every step small or big is just a journey in a very intricate Maze. There’s many side quests and goals and speed bumps and bad luck you’ll meet along the way. Just stay focused on what you learn, and trust that everything is progress, even the set backs.

#truth #truthseeker #writers on tumblr #rant #success #how to succeed #fear #failure #motivation #fitblr #fitlife #healthcoach

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allmyotps1 · 7 years

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darkcocosb:

empirestatesugar-deactivated201:

Invent fake facts about yourself. Create an email address specifically for sugaring and only email them there. Get the Google Voice App and create a phone number to text/call men from distinct from your own. Use a fake name for the first few dates. List the next town over as your location on your profile and never tell them the actual college that you go to — especially if it’s small! If they ask what your parents do for a living, make it up or be vague. Once you’re super comfortable with them, you can tell them “Oh my name’s actually Katherine, not Katelynn” or even give them your real phone number if you want to as I often snapchat with NASA. But he’s the only one of my SDs who knows it as Google Voice works flawlessly and the others don’t really need it.

On an opposite note, get as many details as possible about him from him or through background searching. If he tells you he’s the CEO of Apple, go to Apple’s website and confirm that. Also, invest in a Spokeo Account. Don’t be that annoying SB who begs girls to look men up for her. A lot of girls only buy the monthly plan which has a search quota so if these girls are kindly looking men up for you, that’s less POTs they can search for themselves. I think it’s like $49.95 per year and it’s well worth the money for the amount of information it gives you. You can reverse search his phone number, email, name, etc. to find out his address, income, family members — anything! I love to find their children’s names then look them up on Facebook to see how they live. Riding horses on vacation in Santorini as your cover photo? Okay, I’ll break bread with your dad tomorrow. Little Ashley’s making duck faces and wearing Abercrombie? Sorry, John, I’m actually no longer searching for an SD — best of luck!

Get as many photos as possible (5+) from a man you’re talking to so that you can reverse search them and find out company info, criminal history, or if he’s on any other sites to cross-check age, location, and other facts on the profile you first saw him on.

Before a first meet, Skype with him (for 5 to 30 minutes) to again make sure the photos he sent are of him and not some handsome model on JCrew’s website (guys on SD4M do this all the time — you’re not slick)! While you don’t want the skype date to replace the first date, it is a good way to keep and/or build up his interest and by revealing yourself in 3D and decreasing his chances of cancelling/flaking on you. New SDs in particular often get nervous by the whole process, especially if they’re married, so if he sees “Wow! She’s gorgeous/real/funny/witty/ and excited to see me Thursday!” he’ll be more at ease not only to go through with the meet, but to spend more chedda. Moreover, a Skype date can show you “Wow! He’s an asshole and begging me to slide the camera down to my boobs.” So you can know way before you spend hours on hair and make-up that the date will be a waste.

Need for discretion. If a man doesn’t tell you much about himself, his job, or his life, is using a GV number or a fake email, is going by a fake name, it does not matter at all. 9 times out of 10 I show up to POT dates knowing the results of their latest colonoscopy while they think I don’t even know their name. Focus on the steps above and let them think they’re slicker than you. Nigerian Prince never told me his real name. I knew it from 5 seconds after he emailed me, but I played along and feigned ignorance because I knew he was safe and rich and whatever other secrets he kept from me were irrelevant. After our first date, he revealed his real career, location, (still not his real name) etc. and I’d already known it all, but, like us, he was simply wary of giving too much info to the wrong person. My favorite is when a guy emails you from his real email using a fake name. “Inbox: New Email from Steve Jobs” “Hey it’s Mike!” lmfao Hey Mike! Whatever makes you comfortable enough to meet me for dinner and pay me. All this being said, sometimes a man’s “need for discretion” makes it fucking impossible to find out anything from him. In that case, I say “While I respect your need for discretion, it does not trump my need for safety and I would not feel comfortable meeting you for dinner without…(at least a skype date)(as many photos as I’ve sent you)(information about XYZ)(etc.).” If he refuses to accommodate, he’s blatantly disrespectful of your safety concerns and he’s not worth your time.

Asks for sexy photos. You really need to make sure your profile photos are serve their purpose and depict what you look like from head to toe. If you only include iPhoto face shots, that’s dandy but you need a full body shot of you in a cute outfit and I also always include a bikini shot. Nothing raunchy, just a fun day at the beach. If they’re asking for sexy photos and you already have full body shots on your profile, then kindly end it because they’re 12 year old horn dogs stuck in 45 year old bodies. But if your photos suck and they just want to confirm that you’re not Shrek, then you need to amp up your profile and oblige.

Asks your favorite position, kinkiest moment, sex history, what you’re into etc.There’s no space for immature, tacky, desperate rapid fire sex questions in the sugar bowl. At its core, sugaring is about companionship, chemistry, and fun times. If he needs a rap sheet of what you will and will not do in the bed room, then he should call up a pimp and ask for a very specific hooker. Even if you tell him this and he apologizes and stops, you still know that that’s his main incentive for joining this site so he’s probably looking for pay for play but has too much pride to admit to wanting a prostitute. If you’re fine with 4 hours a month with this man for however much you agree on, then boom! You just landed on easy money. But if you’re looking strictly for a sugar arrangement with outings, dinners, etc. then you need to move on. But be mindful that a lot of these men might be into BDSM, so if they ask specifically if you have interest in that then that’s not necessarily a red flag so much as them not wanting to waste either of your time. If you do say yes, however, and he presses you with sex questions, he’s equally guilty of the above offense.

Sleezy username/bad grammar. If “Hotsex69” messages you, you already know what he’s there for. He’s not a sugar daddy. He’s blatantly looking for pay for play.

Takes offense to your precautions. A lot of men will quickly realize that you both have iPhones and that your messages aren’t coming up blue. If he questions it, let him know straight up, “I’m using an app called Google Voice so that I don’t have to share my real phone number with strangers. Once I’m comfortable enough with you, I will give you my real number and you can reach me there.” 99% of guys completely get it and think “Damn, I wish I’d thought of that. She’s smart and safe and not full of shit! I can tell a lot of guys have wasted her time and I don’t want to be one, so I better step it up if I ever want the honor of using iMessage with this hottie!” The other 1% will cry like little bitches and be like “We’ve hit it off thus far! Don’t you trust me?!?” If he honestly thinks trust can be fostered after a few email messages, he’ll be equally pissy when you don’t have sex on the first date or when you reject his marriage proposal on the second date.

Insists on meeting for just drinks. 10:00pm drinks at the hotel bar so you can get drunk and then go upstairs? Um no. In a fun way, tell him you’d rather meet for dinner at this great restaurant you’re dying to try yada yada. I had this one guy come back at me with “How about we start with drinks and if we hit it off, then we can get dinner?” Lmfao why?! I literally see no incentive to that besides wanting to roofie me. If you’re that awkward and can’t be around a younger, more attractive woman without drinking then let’s drink at dinner. Have 10 glasses of wine with your food. I don’t care. But if I’m getting dolled up, I’m eating food. You are not skimping out on buying me dinner and you are not roofie-ing me and you are not getting me drunk so you can drag me back to your lair. I do too much damn cardio to drink my calories. Buy me dinner, you fuck.

Meet in a public place and STAY in a public place. Stroll in Central Park? Awesome! He wants to wander past the “DO NOT ENTER” sign and show you this ‘amazing view of the river’? Nope. Restaurants, coffee, theater — doesn’t matter as long as you’re surrounded by witnesses.

Have your own transportation to AND from a first meet. And from. And. From. AND FROM!!! Not “Oh I took a taxi here, but let me save $10 and go home with him — he was so funny and obviously legitimate!” Even if that’s true and he’s a sweetie and who he says he is, these men never need to know where you live. (Notice I did not say never should know. Doctor knows where I live and that’s fine. But he doesn’t need to.) If you ultimately decide you’re comfortable with having an SD over at your apartment, then that will come after several dates, not the first. Plus, the chase is half the fun for him. Don’t reveal all of yourself too quickly. For this same reason, never get into his car on the first date. Besides just safety reasons, you don’t want him to feel like (physically and mentally) that he has you 100%. Leave something to be desired.

Tell someone where you are and who you’re going with. If you’re close with a friend or relative who is non-judgmental, make sure they know where your date is and when you’ll be back. Otherwise, find a resource on here (I’ll gladly help you out)and text them (from your GV number) where you are going, when you get there, when you leave, and when you are home. Whenever I get in an SDs car for the first time, I always text my sugar friends his license number.

Some SBs insist on staying sober. I like to drink and I can handle it, so I do. But definitely don’t get drunk. It’s sloppy and unattractive but will also distract you from your goal of setting an allowance/arrangement in place and getting to know this man better. Plus, it will impair your judgment and prevent you from remembering the rest of these safety tips.

Doesn’t bring a gift or cash to the first date. Stop being so entitled. At this point, he owes you just as much as you owe him — nothing.

The car he drives. The $3000 allowance of a man who drives an Aston Martin is just as green as that of the man who drives a Jeep Grand Cherokee.

Offers you a ride there or back. He might genuinely want to save you the hassle of travelling. Most of these men are fathers and have that protective instinct. It’s 9pm, dark out, she’s waiting for a cab, this is nonsense, I’ll drive her. It’s not a redflag that he’s trying to be a gentleman, but either way, maintain your stance and politely decline.

Awkward behavior. Steve Jobs gave brilliant speeches, but outside of that, the dude was awkward as fuck. Nonetheless, he was richer than God. If a guy reaches to hold your hand on the first date and you don’t want him to, just say, “John, I’m having an absolute blast but I’m just not comfortable with that yet.” There’s no need to flip out and write a post saying OMG THIS GUY WAS SO CREEPY HE LIKE TRIED TO RAPE ME BLACKLIST!!!!! Doctor is the most awkward guy I’ve ever met in my entire life. Like him, many of these POTs were valedictorians of Harvard who went on to spend the next 8-12 years of their lives accumulating degrees in the dungeons of the Ivy Leagues. They lack sunlight and social skills. It’s okay. That doesn’t mean be wishy-washy when he tries to cop a feel. No. Be firm and put him in his place. If he makes you excessively uncomfortable, end the date and don’t pursue another. But if he stutters or can’t maintain eye contact or holds eye contact for too long or snorts or recites how beautiful you are or has a creepy smile, that doesn’t necessarily make him a potential serial killer.

Talks about hotel time, private time, intimate time, ‘getting away’. There will be no sex on the first date. There will be no sex on the first date. There will be NO SEX on the first date. If he thinks dinner and a few hundred dollars gets you two “alone time” at the Ritz Carlton, then send him packing. Be blunt and embarrass that loser. Literally say, “John, I’ve had a blast getting to know you thus far but I have zero interest in trading sex for lobster and a gas money. I’m a lady who is looking for a gentleman with the means to provide for her and support her. If you’re only interested in sex in exchange for money, then you’re looking for an escort, not a sugar baby, and a second date would be a waste of both of our time.” Scare the shit out of him and make him realize just how crass and pathetic he’s being. You wear the pants. He’ll straighten up very quickly, or realize that you’re right and head down to the corner of main street instead.

Cringes at the bill or what you’re ordering. If he can’t afford lobster, desert, or how many drinks you’re getting, he can’t afford you. This is an absolute no brainer. Even if he says he can afford your $3000 monthly allowance, if it means he’s going without food, laundry, or anything else just to afford it for you now, there WILL come a later when he leaves you hanging. A real SD loves to treat you and doesn’t care if you buy the bar!

Switches stories. It’s one thing from initially stating he’s in finance to getting more specific about which sector or region he works in, but if yesterday he was CEO of Apple and today he’s a professor, he’s probably full of shit. Don’t be afraid to call him out on it. “I thought you said —-?” Learn the dynamics of body language and be able to discern when someone is lying or hiding key information from you. He could very well be the manager of the local K-Mart hoping to spend as many free dates with you as possible before you catch him in his lie.

Insists on anything. If he’s choosing your meal for you, forcing you to ride home with him, or backing you into a corner in any way, ditch him. If he’s that pushy on the first date, he’ll be even more pushy on the second or on the third because you let him win this time.

Use a condom.

If you don’t use a condom, get tested regularly together and show each other the results.

Doesn’t meet allowance. If he owes you $500 per meet and misses a meet, he needs to bring it to the next meet, or else he’s breaking the terms of the arrangement. If it’s the end of the month and he shows up without allowance, he needs to send it to you/bring it to the next meet, or else he’s breaking the terms of the arrangement. Do not let him get comfortable and think of you as a friend or girlfriend. This is a SUGAR ARRANGEMENT. Do not let him treat you like something that you’re not and get sloppy with the reason why we’re here.

Wants to meet your family. Doctor still insists on introducing me to his sisters. Eck. Whatever. But he’s never meeting any of my family. I am not your girlfriend. This is not a relationship. We have no real future together. Read this haiku. It is the anthem of the bowl.

Insists on not using a condom, trying XYZ in bed that makes you uncomfortable. As always, don’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with and let them know. A real SD will put his desires aside for your safety and comcort. If he’s being pushy in bed or otherwise, he’s not there for your best interest.

Asks about your personal life. It’s not weird for a man to want to know what classes you’re taking or what’s new in your world. He’s not being creepy or nosy, he’s just curious about what makes you tick. He shouldn’t be prying into if you have a boyfriend or anything super specific, but don’t get weirded out if he asks a lot of things about you.

Asks for sexy pics or texts suggestively. After you’re intimate together, this really is fair game to ask. As always, you need not oblige, and if you do, play it safe and don’t include your face or use SnapChat. But just because he’s thinking of sex more doesn’t mean he’s still not invested in being a sugar daddy. If it makes you uncomfortable, say so. If he’s a true SD, he’ll respect your boundaries and get over it.

Is affectionate in public. Just because he likes to hold your hand and kiss you, doesn’t mean he’s thinking of you as a girlfriend and less of an SD and forgetting your arrangement. If PDA makes you uncomfortable and you need a bit more discretion, let him know. But just because he likes your soft skin doesn’t mean he’s going to propose and leave your arrangement in the dust. He might just like your soft skin.

Hates shopping. Not surprisingly, a lot of men hate shopping, especially for women or with women or in women’s stores. So just because he’s not buying you louboutins doesn’t mean he won’t give you the money to buy them yourself.

Your token line is: “I’m not comfortable with that (yet).” Don’t be wishy-washy! If he wants to have sex and you lie and say “Oh uh I’m on my period” he’ll just ask again the next time. Instead, be honest and be firm saying you’re not comfortable with sex, riding in his car, his hand on your leg, meeting his mom, etc. etc. etc. Drop this line WHENEVER you need to say no. It sets the tone that you are the one who sets the boundaries of the relationship and that those boundaries will not be crossed. If a man ever persists against something you’ve blatantly stated makes you uncomfortable, then you know it’s time to end things.

Never let the prospect of money trump the prospect of danger.

Great post. But Steve Jobbs is never richer than God.

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