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paperlovesadness · 2 years

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Ah... I feel a bit strange doing this. Might just stay in the drafts forever. We'll see. But my hands itch to do it every single time I listen to the song so... So here's a lyric analysis of "Star Treatment" and how... it might?... be? A song... About... Miles Kane?? Maybe??? 🫣 (no executions please. I'm really not trying to push this narrative. These things just kind of jumped out at me & I felt an urge to write it down somewhere. And perhaps see if anyone agrees? Comments encouraged! If anyone ever stumbles upon this silly thing) This will get long... Cause that's who I am. And also it references other songs.

Disclaimer 1: I did see someone attempt this on reddit. It was a bit out there though... And maybe ironic? I do share a thought or two with them though.

Disclaimer 2, an Important one: this does rely on an implication that there was something more between the two sometime around/ between 2015-2017ish? I don't want to put any labels and try to stay away from any too specific guesses. But well, I suppose I do kind of personally believe there was something there. If you're not a fan of theories about private lives of real people... I'm sorry. This one's not for you. I really do try to do it as respectfully as possible though. At the end of the day - it's just a theory. And not a mean one. I understand it's all just something that fits together in my head and may be very far from any truth. Disclaimer 3: I know this album is a concept album centered around characters. But I'm analyzing the second, potential autobiogrophical hidden layer beneath the obvious first meaning

Okay, let us have a whack at it now:

I just wanted to be one of The Strokes Now look at the mess you made me make Hitchhiking with a monogrammed suitcase Miles away from any half-useful imaginary highway

This one is very on the nose. But quite literally sneaking in his name in the lyrics -- maybe? we know Alex loves playing with many meanings/hidden messages & double entendres. + the being away from any half-useful imaginary highway makes me think of when he spoke about the fact that he couldn't write any more love-related matarial after EYCTE. And someone encouraged him to just go a different route. That's how TBHC was born. But also implies some trouble in the love-related ascpects of his life around the time. Could've just been trouble around Taylor - who he broke up with soon after the album's release. There's theories about how that happened [current girlfriend invloved] - but maybe there was even more confusion & heartbreak in the mix (ending a tour with someone with whom the lovey-dovey jokes may have gone a bit too far/serious?)

I'm a big name in deep space, ask your mates But golden boy's in bad shape

this is just implying any sort of broken-heartedness.

I found out the hard way that Here ain't no place for dolls like you and me Everybody's on a barge Floating down the endless stream of great TV 1984, 2019

dolls = puppets. And how the industry / society isn't a good place for relationships like this. (People wouldn't understand the type of bond they share?)

Maybe I was a little too wild in the '70s Rocket-ship grease down the cracks of my knuckles Karate bandana, warp speed chic Hair down to there, impressive moustache

Miles and Alex have spoken many times about how their first album was heavily 60s inspired - Scott Walker, The Beatles, 60s Morricone.

What may be less obvious and spoken about is how EYCTE was sort of meant to take their work into the 70s. He spoke about it in an interview when asked about the album cover. It's a 1969 photo of Tina Turner - which Alex commented on by saying: "The idea was to move the artwork on from the ’60s feel of the first Last Shadow Puppets album artwork, so here is Tina on the very cusp of the 1970s" (They also chose to sing covers like Moonage Daydream and Is This What You Wanted during that tour. Both 70s songs from artists that defined the era). So this could be him reflecting on the EYCTE era and how things may have gotten a bit too far during the time. Going in to deep, crossing some boundries and definitions?

Love came in a bottle with a twist-off cap Let's all have a swig and do a hot lap

alcohol? pills? alcohol & or drugs clouding some judgement/helping loosen up and causing the crossing of certain [friendship] boundries?

So who you gonna call? The Martini Police Baby, that isn't how they look tonight, oh no It took the light forever to get to your eyes

It's not a particularly meaningful line in terms of this narrative - but I wanted to talk about it because I find it so beautiful but also so fuck*ng sad. Like - one of he saddest lines I've read. It just hit me in the heart straight away when I heard it. I feel like my personal interpretation is dead wrong. But still choose to see it that way. I also know of the story of how it's inspired by Alex's dad telling him about how we see the light of the stars the way it was in the past bc of how long it takes to reach us. The way I hear this line though is: seeing the bottomless sadness in the eyes of someone who had their heart broken. Someone whose eyes used to be full of happiness - and now it takes forever for any touch of happiness to show up in their gaze. Now a possible interpratation for a second meaning to this whole section could be: calling the martini police = grabbing a drink to help with hearbreak, when there's no other solutions left. Miles has sang in his breakup album Coup de Grace about how he drowned the sadness after hearbreak in alcohol and pills. Mixing stuff together like a mad scientist etc. (Also if you ever saw the interview he did with [the one and only] Martin on his CDG album... Oof... Yeah. There was no light in that man's eyes. Even Martin saw that pain and commented on it. It's a tough one to watch)

I just wanted to be one of those ghosts You thought that you could forget And then I haunt you via the rear view mirror On a long drive from the back seat

This is one of these sections that hits me the most. Cause to me it can be seens as: Alex being aware of how much pain he caused - all he could wish is that he was just another lover whom the hearbroken person [Miles?] could forget. But alas - he still haunts him. Here it gets interesting (or batshit crazy. Cause I might be). Beacause the use of "ghost" just absolutely sends me to Miles' song "Shavambacu" - where he describes the eyes/thoughts of an ex lover still being focused on him after the breakup (this song though could have a whole seperate post of it's own) While "haunting via a rear view mirror" made me jump up and recall lyrics from Miles' song "Dont let it get you down". I saw your reflection, in The backseat of a Chevrolet from Hollywood to East LA NOW - don't shout at me. I know timelines are important. Because Shavambacu and Star Treatment came out around a similar time period. But Shavambacu came out a little bit later. While DLIGYD came out completely after all of hits - this year. So first off - I'm considering the fact that Miles and Alex are clearly still friends and in contact. So could have shown each other songs earlier. But more plausible theory: if these songs are perhaps maybe inspired by one another - they clearly are gonna recall events and/or inside lingo and jokes they both used. Possible situation: post Miles-Alex hearbreak Miles stumbled upon Alex going somewhere in a car. They spotted each other. this also makes me recall the whole:

Swear I saw you smile You try to hide it well 3:15 on the wrong side Columbia Street line from "Killing the Joke". Which many think references the area that Alex lives in. They lived a few minutes away from each other around 2016-2017. So would obviously run into one another often. Even if they were going through something and taking a break/trying not to.

But it's alright, 'cause you love me And you recognise that it ain't how it should be Your eyes are heavy and the weather's getting ugly

This one is also way to sad if you place it in a relationshippy context. There's a few ways I see it: 1) it's alright - no matter what happens, because A. knows M. loves him and will understand why things ended like they did. It shouldn't be this way - but it has to be, because there's things standing in the way. He believes he'll understand despite the grief. 2) dramatic, sad version - the "it ain't how it should be" actually references the "love me part". So M. should understand that things ended because they shouldn't love each other this way. It's just now how it should be and A. believes M. recognises that.

So pull over, I know the place Don't you know an apparition is a cheap date? What exactly is it you've been drinking these days?

once again referencing bumping into each other randomly? And going with it - going some place; talking. Maybe about how Miles' is doing, the heartbreak, how he deals with it - the alcohol (once again - just referencing what he himself sang about in lyrics on his breakup album)

Jukebox in the corner, "Long Hot Summer" They've got a film up on the wall and it's dark enough to dance

"Long Hot Summer" - by The Style Council is actually a song Alex cited to be one of the main references/inspirations used when working on the EYCTE album. So is definitely a nostalgic/meaninful song between the two. They go to a place after bumping into one another - there's a jukebox with a nostalgic song. They can dance together - because it's an incognito, dark place.

What do you mean you've never seen Blade Runner?

Now the Blade Runner line is so clearly Taylor Bagley (the woman is a huge, huge fan of it, apparently) it did have me stumped for a while. But then - maybe it's a clarifying line? Like - if this were about Taylor he would definitely not say that to her. It's obvious she's seen it a million times. Maybe this is here to sort of clarify this?

Oh, maybe I was a little too wild in the '70s Back down to earth with a lounge singer shimmer Elevator down to my make-believe residency From the honeymoon suite Two shows a day, four nights a week Easy money

70s again - EYCTE era But after the tour ended it was time to go back to earth, back to being non-TLSP Alex. Running away from reality into writing music - writing about a make-believe residency (Tranquility Base) Time to leave the honeymoon era = the tour and shows TLSP had together. (also AM may be easy money? Their reputation [very well deserved] makes it so that it's easy - bc anything they come out with will be bought)

So who you gonna call? The Martini Police So who you gonna call? The Martini Police Oh, baby, that isn't how they look tonight It took the light absolutely forever to get to your eyes

...

And as we gaze skyward, ain't it dark early?It's the star treatment Yeah, and as we gaze skyward, ain't it dark early? It's the star treatment It's the star treatment The star treatment

a sad ending. It got dark. A bit too early. It's sad that it all ended. But that's how it has to be - in show buisness, in the industry. They're well known people and it could hurt their careers - also it would just get out easily, so there's no room for self-discovery and just trying it out. That's the star treatment. (This is also a theme I am seeing in Mr. Schwartz lyrics. But that's for another time) Am I crazy? Probably! Is this just accidental elaborate fan fiction? Maybe! But still...I don't know. Song theories are fun. I get that morally it's a gray / or maybe even red area - talking out loud, publicly about theories invloving specific names and relationships. But like... Sue me! Let's call it a guilty pleasure. If anyone ever reads through this wall of text... Hi! Thanks and sorry. And please share some thoughts! (Eh. May just delete this soon anyway) Peace and love

#artic monkeys song theory #arctic monkeys lyric analysis #star treatment lyric analysis #arctic monkeys #tranquility base hotel and casino #alex turner miles kane #everything that you've come to expect #the last shadow puppets #miles kane and alex turner #alex turner and miles kane #song analysis #i may be batshit crazy i'm sorry #but it's harmless #milex #?#i suppose #my posts

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ghostlyfeelings · 3 months

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two years ago i was face first in a pile of cocaine and i mean that literally. i talked a lot, not that i remember it but that's on par for the drug of choice. was on another bender. im sure it was nothing different than the hundreds i had prior. thinking and believing that this was my life. this was it. that nothing and no one could pull me out of this deep pit of despair i had found myself in. that there was no possible way that i would ever love myself. not even a sliver. i wouldn't of been able to see the sun if someone held it in their palms and put it right in front of me. and none of this mattered of course, i suppose that's the craziness of it all. i wanted to die. in fact, i was so sure i would die to this addiction that i didn't put any eggs in another basket. i would lie and say i would try. that i would do it for the people who love me. i did in fact understand nobody wanted to find me dead in a ditch or some dungeony sleeze houses kitchen of some guy i just met and doe eyed followed him home because he had coke on him. any sense of self perseverance had left me a long time ago. i had a one way ticket straight to hell and i was determined to get there. not realizing at the time i was already there. i had made home in hell. i surrounded myself with devils. in the exact same rut i was in. misery loves company. and i was miserable. i wouldn't let myself be still enough to think of all the hands i let touch me. all the people i hurt. all the situations i put myself in that could of turned deadly quick. all the lies I told to myself and others. just so i could get another line. feel another high. I couldn't look myself in the mirror because the women looking back was somebody i had no recollection of. she scared me in a time where nothing else did. and i knew she hated me. rittled with resentment and pure rage. there was zero instinct to comfort her. she would of turned her nose up at it regardless. she was broken and at that point, i figured nothing else has worked so why not let her take the reigns. at least we're gonna go out blitzed out of our mind. that was the point. she had never held herself into a hug. never felt the warmth of self kindness. never wiped her own tears. tucked herself into bed. never knew the concept of self mothering herself and if she did, she did it in a way she thought she deserved. just like her mother and her mother. you know how it goes. i hope that she can feel my love now. my compassion. my patience. i hope she hears when im self soothing, and when i firmly state boundaries. when i say no. i hope she can forgive me for not showing up sooner but something tells me she of all people understand the cruel punishment of living and learning. relapsing. and now two years sober. it feels like i am worlds apart from her now. but i see her sometimes in my mind. when im triggered. i can feel her trying to bubble back up. i am grateful for the part she had in getting me here. for getting through those long nights of heaviness and loneliness and overwhelming urges. because she taught me a lot about what i know now about love. and forgiveness

#writing #drugs tw #addiction #poetry #on recovery

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sichore · 1 year

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I've still been writing, mostly sharing stuff privately, but my work connection is balls, so this one's gonna go here.

Jimi and Pickles talk gender. It's totally dildos. (Warning: some internalized homophobia and other unpleasant stuff)

Jimi chuckles, more than a little awkwardly. "Well, if it makes it any easier, just… think of me as another dude."

"Then that'd be gay."

She expects that answer, and laughs again, more weakly this time as a knot of anxiety forms in her gut. "Yeah, well… stuff with me is always kinda fruity, so…"

Her hands twist into her shirt, but thankfully, Pickles doesn't seem to be suffering from self-consciousness. She just feels him shift against her hair, cheek turning a bit towards her. "Meaning…?"

Yeah, she's definitely ruined her high. Jimi waves her hands uselessly. "No, no, it's fine, we don't have to get into it. We're having a good time!"

"Nah, it's fine," Pickles drawls, shrugging. She sees him gesture towards the ceiling in her peripheral vision. "This is a safe place, right? We're one with da air an' earth and Appalachian Demonsbane with Memphis Blackwater right now.

So, go on. Yer kind of a fruit, huh?"

"... Well." Her hands keep twisting on top of her belly, growing damp and clammy. She wants to sit up, maybe go grab the snacks they're going to be wanting, but the floor feels really good against her back. She feels tiny laying there, and her living room feels massive now. Like she may as well be laying on a rock in the primordial ocean, once again assailed by the thoughts of her meager, mortal shell and the mortifying concept of being perceived.

Only Pickles the Drummer is here, too. She's already shared the best of her stash with him, a guy who's richer than God, yet was persistent on sticking around and getting in her business (which, well, he hired her for), who was also here laying on her living room floor and contemplating the universe with her.

Fuck it.

"I don't really think of myself as a woman," she blurts out in a rush, pauses, then takes a deep breath. She's too grown to be flustered about this after so long. "I haven't in a long time, but I don't really know what I am. I'm not a wife, or a mom, and a woman doesn't have to be that, but I'm also not – not wifed up, or all that pretty. But my tits are too big to not be a woman, right? So – I don't know! I'm just some guy. Some dude. But not a man. But I don't feel… womanly."

She pauses. Pickles hasn't responded, and maybe he's falling asleep. Whatever. May as well keep going. He probably won't remember any of this, anyway. As good a time as ever to get decades' worth of discontent off her chest. "It doesn't really matter, though, since I have work to do. I just gotta paint, and I'm – no one really sees me, anyway uh, outside of you guys. So it doesn't… have to matter? I'm just like y'all. But not manly. Or rich. Or white."

Jimi's vision blurs suddenly, so she takes off her glasses and sets them far to her side, pressing the heels of her palm against her eyes. What were they even saying? It's not like Pickles can relate – sure, there was that bit in the 80s, but things were different then. And then it got a lot worse. And he has money and influence and can just be without worrying about whether or not it'd get him fired. He has protection.

He doesn't get it. He can't. He can't possibly relate to growing up in Virginia, surrounded by woods and whispers, where the only thing that mattered was being a good, quiet child.

He can't relate to growing up in Tennessee, only experiencing the world through MTV because Mom kept them in the bumfuck countryside, and her classmates were mainly white farm kids. He couldn't understand how Jimi never knew if she loved Janet or wanted to be her, or Michael, or Tina. Or Prince. How everything flipped one day and they wanted to be called Jimi, not Jamila.

How once she graduated and huge shirts and baggy jeans were all the rage, they felt so comfortable and right, but she still wore her Poetic Justice box braids and cute crop tops because it was also the thing to do.

What did it matter even when she was dating, when her partner realized she was a woman, and that kissing her girlfriend also felt nice? Jimi didn't stay. Jimi couldn't decide. Jimi broke down, did her big chop, and wasted away for a decade that sped by in a blur of acrylic paints and droning office printers. Her personal life was nonexistent, and in the real world, it didn't matter how dark or light or fit or fat she was; they would never see women like her as such no matter what she did. Easier to just not be one.

What did it even matter, when Jimi was alone and just needed to pay rent?

Why was she even saying this now?

"Sorry, it doesn't matter. You can just call me Jimi. Or whatever. It doesn't really change anything. Still, you can just – see me as a dude. Or some chick. Whatever. "

There's a pregnant silence. Jimi closes her eyes, wanting to sink into the ground and just return to the earth, for fucking up this interaction with her very wealthy benefactor. Way to fucking go, girl.

She's certain Pickles is asleep, blissfully unaware and uncaring that it was okay to share feelings and emotions and all, even if that's some gay shit. Or that Jimi just barrelled over and fucked up the pleasant vibe they had going before she got all up in her own crap.

So when he speaks again, she jumps, startled out of her own spiral.

"Yanno, everyone was calling me a chick during Snakes n' Barrels," Pickles begins, softer than she's ever heard him speak. "The whole glam rock thing wasnt manly and all that other crap. I didn't really care. I had all the sex and money and blow I could ever want, and, shit. You couldn't find none'a that in Tomahawk. L.A. was… somethin' else."

Pickles shifts, sighs. Jimi can't tell if he's wistful or not; times were wild, back then. He continues. "Felt like you could do anything there, be anything. So I did. I was whatever I fuckin' wanted, and it was great. Between the blackouts, at least. And when I wanted somethin' else, somethin' heavier… I felt like I had to leave that behind."

He shrugs again. "All that gay shit wasn't metal, y'know? An' it worked. Dethklok happened, and I got everything I ever wanted, more than I ever did back then. I just stopped thinking about it."

Jimi chews her bottom lip during the second pause, then ventures: "You didn't stop thinking about it, did you?" She feels Pickles shake his head. Jimi tilts her face towards him, though she can't see much beyond her own curls and his bright dreads. Mainly the tip of his nose. "Is that why you did the reunion?"

"Part of it," Pickles snorts. "I wanted to step back into that old skin, see how it felt. And… it didn't feel much different. Nothing really changed, 'cept I don't got guys suckin' my dick nearly as often."

That checks out. Jimi's sometimes wondered how different things would be if Dethklok was out about that kind of thing, if they were like that. How that would change… everything. The rumors were vicious, but the devastation that could easily ensue if anything true came out would be more than her soft heart could handle. It'd probably get a lot worse before anything got better. Hadn't it always been safer to just keep it on the down low?

"So, yer not alone in that. I'm just Pickles. That's all I can be. I'm too old to be anything else."

"... You're not that old. Neither of us are." Jimi returns her gaze to the ceiling, which still undulates, moving further away, then closer. Guess her high is still going. "You've aged good, though."

"Aww, geez, yer makin' me blush!"

Jimi feels the smile in his voice, can picture the lopsided grin and twinkle in those mischievous green eyes. She smiles, too.

"So, you still wanna be called Jimi?"

"Yeah. Jamila's for people who don't know me like that, or family. It depends. There's nothing else I'd wanna be called."

"But dood's fine?"

"Yeah, dude is pretty whatever to me."

"Mmm, what about honey? Babe?"

"What–" Jimi's heart lurches to her throat. She laughs it off. "That's so unprofessional!"

"Aw, c'mahn! We're cool, right? What about me, huh?" Pickles rolls to his side, propping himself up on an arm so he can look down at her with glittering eyes. "Got any for me?"

"Douchebag." Pickles tosses his head back, laughing. "I dunno, sugah?"

"Ooh, I like that. Real country."

"And really inappropriate for this arrangement." But Pickles is grinning down at her, and Jimi's cheeks hurt, and she wonders if she'll reconsider.

#my writing #mtl oc #if the format is balls im sorry lmao #this is really for the discord

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theavtalks · 5 months

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The illusion of freedom

Are you free enough? Yes, I ask - Are you free enough? The reason why I am asking this question is because you have the answer to "Are you free?" Your answer is "Yes." But, are you free enough?

Since my early childhood, the question of freedom has really intrigued me. The only thing that has changed for me is the absolute meaning of freedom. Earlier, it used to be free from homework, lectures and the responsibilities that school puts on one's shoulders. During college, the meaning moulded itself into the concepts of financial independence. In the corporate, freedom means, umm, sorry freedom is irrelevant there (my manager's probably reading this).

But today, as I am typing this, it means an entirely different concept to me. Before talking about what freedom actually is, let us first discuss who is it that wants to be free. Have you ever given this thought? Who is it, who feels all the restrictions and the confinements? Who is it, who wants to break free? The simple and the most common answer would be "It's me, of course!" Fair enough! let's consider that it is you who is in a constant battle to break free. My follow-up question to this would be, who is it who knows that you want to be free? Now, you cannot say that "It is me". We will have to address the fact that there are two entities - the one who wants to be free and the other, who knows that there is something that wants to be free. Let's understand this with the help of an example:

Let us assume that a person named Arjuna went to a forest for a solo overnight camping trip. Let us consider another person Krishna, who decided to accompany Arjuna but without Arjuna knowing that he is being accompanied. Krishna was a man who was well-versed with the routes of the jungle as he had accompanied many travellers silently. The day passed by and when the sun was settling down, Arjuna realised that he has lost his way deep into the forest and reached some place far away from the decided camping site. This made Arjuna really uncomfortable as the darkness was approaching. Arjuna could not find any way in the dark and decided to make the camp for himself so that he can spend the night in the forest and move out when the sun comes up again the next morning. The silent observer of the story Krishna was aware of the complete situation and was just simply observing all the arrangements being done by Arjuna. The next morning came and the sun was up again. Not only was it shining bright but it was also being too harsh on Arjuna. Depleted of water and filled with thirst, Arjuna continued to search his way to get out of the jungle but failed in doing so on the second day as well. Again, Krishna kept observing all this hustle that Arjuna was doing in order to break free from the tracks of the jungle. Eight days passed by and Arjuna, a boy who came to the jungle for a camping picnic, was now struggling for his life amidst the humungous trees and dangerous animals in the jungle. His stomach hurt and throat scratched. His knees felt numb and he was moaning with pain. A few drops of water had reached to his body in the last eight days and he had been able to manage a few crumbs of food. Arjuna came to the realisation that the time had come and death would take him into its arms anytime. Slowly, his eyes shut to sleep and he lost himself in a vast limbo where nothing can be heard and nothing can be seen. But what? He opened his eyes in some time and couldn't believe what he saw! He saw himself, lying on the trunk of a tree, wounded heavily and incredibly thin. But, how can it be possible? How was he able to see himself? Was it the death that took him away and gave him a glimpse of himself? The truth is, Arjuna had become the silent observer Krishna, who had been observing Arjuna from the moment he entered the jungle. But, how is it possible? Did the bodies exchange or did something supernatural took over? The truth is, Arjuna reached to his destination and had been freed from the jungle. The becoming of Arjuna into Krishna, the man who knew the routes of the jungle freed him for the jungle.

Now, you would be thinking and would be in a fantastic state of absurdity, probably. You would have multiple questions about the story and I will try to answer them with a analogical paragraph:

Consider yourself to be Arjuna. Arjuna's going to the jungle refers to your interaction with this world. Our journey on Earth is finite and limited, just like a planned camping trip. All of us are really confident that we know the way of the jungle (the world), but many times in our life, we lose the right path and are stuck amidst the raw nature that brought us here. We strive and give our best to things and lead ourselves even deeper into the jungle. We work, work and work but unaware of the direction in which the work is being done. In the end, we tire ourselves from the world and sit down, shattered into pieces. Situations that were once unfathomable become true and dance in front of our eyes. We are broken from outside and from within. Finally, the internal darkness of death takes over and shuts our eyes permanently into the wilderness. But, all along this way, one thing that we forget is our very own identity. All the losses and the gains make us so attached to our 'self' that we forget about who we actually are. We mistake ourselves to be Arjuna when our true nature is that of Krishna. We forget that we have been travelling down the road for years and have been simultaneously observing the journey. We forget that we are not the traveller, we are the journey itself. We are the silent observer that sits within and just watches. We are 'the watcher,' as I like to call it. Krishna could have helped Arjuna when he saw that the former was in deep pain. But, he did not. Because, Krishna extends his arm only once Arjuna shows the will to extend his. There is no court of justice in the universe. There is no such thing that is objectively good/bad. Every event, every action is subjective, as per the games of the jungle. Yet, we hold in our minds our own courts, convincing ourselves about the right and the wrong. We forget, that separated from the battle of right and the wrong, is a man who is standing and just observing your misery.

But, do not commit the mistake of searching the silent observer outside of yourself. Do not promote the idea of worshipping somebody and considering that to be something other than yourself. Do not disrespect the person who has been following the path with you throughout the jungle as mentioning him as someone who does not belong to the jungle. If you belong to the jungle, Krishna belongs to the jungle as well. Krishna is as good as Arjuna wants to be. The major difference is that Arjuna feels and Krishna watches and when you are able to watch without feeling, is the time when you become the silent observer. This exact moment is the moment when you become 'free'. Now, you know the ways of the jungle yourself.

So, the answers to the question "Who is it, who wants to break free?", would be that is Arjuna who wants to break free and the answer to the question "Who is it who knows that you want to be free?", would be Krishna. So, aim towards being the silent observer. Be Arjuna but always remember that your highest possibility is with yourself. It is watching and seeing you. Do not lose the path on your own, consult Krishna before you take the next step. He does not respond but he surely nods.

So, I ask - are you free enough?

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silvertsundere · 11 months

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Silver Talks AniManga (29/10/23)

veeeeeeeeeeeeeery late this week I know it's my own fault really, I was warned by my buddy mega that yozakura would be a dense read and take a while but I didn't listen and underestimate how long it'd take, I should've started during the week but I only started reading on saturday NIGHT so no way in hell I was gonna be able to catch up.. by the time I went to bed on sunday I was on 111/200 so oof.. also didn't mon tue or wed so that's why the post is so late but anyhoo

green - new series/new to me pink - catching up

Anime

Frieren Ep8

very good episode like usual, even more for me cause of all the action. looks like the next one will also have quite a bit of it so I'm pogged up

Undead Unluck Ep4

bro that episode went absolutely INSANE?? HELLO the sakuga was so good I was losing my gourd I'm so glad uu got the adaptation it deserves also my queen yuuki absolutely stole the show, really showing why she's up there with the best of the best, it's gonna be sad not getting more gina til like cour 4 but it'll be worth the wait

Pokemon Horizons Ep26

pretty chill episode after all the excitement from last week's cour finale, mostly just setting up the plot for the future. tho we also got a new op and it goes absolutely crazy

Adult Precure Ep4

alright episode, mostly about what saki and mai have been up to, saki being engaged and mai breaking up with her bf. I know that in their shows, from the very start, the girls have crushes on boys (ofc it couldn't be otherwise cause toei are cowards) but you gotta understand how deep in the yuri mines I am. hearing them actually say they're engaged or dating a man gave me whiplash

Imas Million Live Ep4

good episode as usual, the best part was getting a lot more screentime for some of the girls that were barely in the other eps, tho it still wasn't that much and since this isn't following the og format there's always gonna be some girls that won't get their time to fully shine sadly. also got a couple momoko moments™ including the box so that was funny

Manga

Mission: Yozakura Family Ch1 - 200

wowie that was.. a lot better than I expected. honestly went in not expecting much, and after having just caught up to jujutsu from 1 to current I wasn't expecting yozakura to be so good since jujutsu is so much more popular but, hot take: I think it's way better like sheesh. I talked about it on my server but the only I thing I think jujutsu has over yozakura is the battles, otherwise it's beat in every category. I like the art a lot more, even from ch1 yozakura had waaaaay better paneling than even current jujutsu. and the whole cast is a lot more likeable. like from jujutsu I cared about gojo, nanami, maki and okkotsu. in yozakura we get cooldown chaps were the different family members do their own stuff and interact with each other which helps you get to know them more and in doing so liking them more, while still using these chaps to move the plot along so the pacing isn't too slow (outside of that little side detour with the past heads that got cut short prob by the editor but yknow)

anyway rambling and just repeating what I already said in the server but TL;DR it's good, glad to be caught up, and looking forward to it wrapping up in the near future since we're close to the final arc

Witch Enforcer Ch1

I started this mostly on a whim cause the art is good (artist's on here too btw @ camellia0x0) but I was pleasantly surprised. there was nothing surprising about the story but it was delivered well and the art was solid through the whole chap (tho the paneling is very basic but I'll give them a pass since it's their first serialization [only some one shots before]) and the concept of a witch making and using mechs is fun. looking forward to seeing this artist's growth as a mangaka, hopefully the series doesn't get axed too early

Undead Unluck 181

good chap, especially the end tho. never thought this could be a possibility but it makes total sense there'd be a reverse evil union on the side of god. never thought about it since we had under before. really curious to see how the next chap gonna but it's prob just gonna be introducing all those baddies that people will fight in the final arc

#silver talks animanga #now should go to bed it's quite late #I said I'd peep people after catching up in the other post but I'll do it tomorrow

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thesaltyace · 2 years

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Oh my god.

I was watching a TikTok where this dude was IDing mushrooms and I just realized why my final project in botany was a B.

(just a personal rant, spoiler: it's the fucking autism again)

It's been over a decade since I took that class but I remember being so disappointed by the B because I thought I'd done a pretty good job.

Yes, I am laughing at myself now because a B is a good job, but goddamn it I'm a perfectionist and I wanted the A.

I haven't thought about that B in a long time, but it bothered me at the time because I got As on everything else in that class and the portfolio pulled my final grade down to a B.

It was even more disappointing because I struggled so much to make the portfolio. I had a terrible time making sense of the ID guide, so IDing my plants took me several times longer than my peers.

Following the identification guide is kind of like a choose-your-adventure book. It asks about specific characteristics of the plant, and based on your answer it will send you to a new section to ask about another characteristic. You repeat this process until you've narrowed down the possibilities to the characteristics that match your specific plant, and voila! Plant identified.

It sounds easy, but I had an awful time of it. I'd follow an identification path only to come to a question about characteristics that my plant 100% did not have, indicating I made a wrong turn somewhere. So I'd have to start over and scrutinize every step as I went through the ID guide again, trying figure out where I might have gone wrong.

After a lot of time and effort, I turned in a portfolio that I thought I'd done well. I'd retraced my steps on almost every plant, often more than once, so surely I had finally arrived at the correct answer by the end of it all, right?

I mean, yeah, to earn a B most of my plants had to have been IDed correctly.

But I clearly wasn't accurate with all of them. And it really bothered me because I spent so much time and effort that I couldn't understand how I could have IDed enough of them inaccurately that it brought me down a letter grade.

So anyway, as I said, I'm watching this TikTok with this dude IDing mushrooms. He says something that transports me back to my botany class so fast it gave me whiplash.

He said, "...it has this beautiful blue staining..." and my eyes immediately glazed over as my brain made several connections and spat out a revelation:

I got a B on my botany portfolio because I IDed some of the plants incorrectly. And I had such a hard time IDing my plants because I took the descriptions in the ID guide too literally.

Those TikTok mushrooms with the "beautiful blue staining"? My thought process went a little something like this as my brain made the connection back to my botany portfolio:

WHERE. WHERE IS THE BLUE? THAT IS GRAY. THAT IS FUCKING GRAY.

OH MY GOD IS THIS -- IS THIS WHY I COULDN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT THE FUCK THE ID GUIDE WAS TALKING ABOUT EVERY GODDAMN TIME? NO. NO.

Yes, folks, it's the fucking autism again.

Like, I'm laughing, but oh my fucking god, seriously?

No wonder I struggled so much. I had to ID plants using a written guide with zero photos and only the most basic of illustrations for a few broad concepts, without the ability to ask for clarification or to look at an example photo of the characteristic they were describing.

I had to backtrack or start over so many times because I took every criteria so literally that I kept arriving at the wrong answers.

"It says orange but these are orange with some deep yellow in some places, so that's not a match.

"I see [characteristic] at the base of the plant but not across the whole plant. Hmmm. Must not be right."

"Well it's only a little [characteristic] so that doesn't count."

"Woody stem? It's not exactly like wood, so obviously it's not a woody stem."

I'm also now realizing that my classmates probably used the internet to help identify their plants even though we weren't supposed to because of course they would have, goddamn it

Had I known then what I know now, I bet I would have spent just as much time on the portfolio, but I might have had the context to realize the black-and-white literal thinking was causing me issues in IDing those plants.

The portfolio and the grade of B doesn't matter in the broader picture, but the fact that I can look back and see the autism in those situations that I didn't understand at the time...

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libitinalarvaia · 3 years

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Non-Sexual Kink and Abuse of Intimacy

This is a little free-thought and not fully developed and I'm stumbling along trying to describe myself as I type so bear with me.

Was thinking about abuse and manipulation through vectors of non-sexual kinks. Discussion on it is difficult and foggy because it's been bogged down by the muddying of the incorrect concept that 'Sex' is the problem so when sex is removed, people no longer know how to categorize it. Worse is when they try to reach further to try to bring sex back into it in order to justify the concept that the problem connected to sex specifically. And in doing so, it's erased so much of the important discussion to be had around all the other vectors of sexual abuse and has effectively removed the tools we need to discern warning signs of any manner of hurt.

In order to properly convey what I want, I need to start with a question "what is intimacy?" due to the fact that the word might not have the same weight for everyone, as it does me. For the purpose of understanding what I mean I'm going to describe what intimacy means in the context I'm using it and what to consider when I use the word Intimacy. The dictionary definition of intimacy, which describes it as closeness, familiarity, and can be used as a euphemism for sex, but I'm explicitly not using it as a euphemism for sex. For my purposes when I say Intimacy I am referring to a concept of a strong and deep bond with another person that is vulnerable. Those strong powerful threads you create with other people, deep friendships and good family, an emotional connection and understanding that is not inherently sexual in any way.

Think about what you consider an intimate friendship or family bond. For the most part, they are people that you consider personally tied to you in some way, people you seek for emotional comfort, that you might even expect a certain amount of emotional support and comfort from, depending on the type of relationship you've formed. They're people that you have a certain amount of trust with. And in any healthy intimate relationship where you expect a certain amount of emotional support or supply, that support and supply is negotiated or discussed in the event there is any misgivings. It is in unhealthy intimate relationships where this expectation is not negotiated or one-sided and often attempts at negotiation or application of boundaries are denied. This is where harm can occur.

For example, if you are expected to be the primary vector of emotional support, supply, or validation of a parent? A friend? Anyone that might have some perceived amount of closeness from you that you do not have yourself? And it was not a position you agreed to or possibly agreed to while unaware of what was expected. That's intimacy abuse (whether intentional or unintentional). This is important to define because we've so often put sex and intimacy hand-in-hand, which is why intimacy abuse can feel like sexual abuse; we've had no other way to describe it. Or rather, there's not been enough discussion on the subject to have a way to describe it. And we've done ourselves a huge disservice in the realm of identifying and categorizing abuse because of that conflation. (Especially when you consider sex can exist without being intimate and there's nothing wrong with that.) When you factor in Intimacy as it's own vector in forms of abuse, it can bring into clarity the ways one can be abused and it might even make you realize some of those uncomfortable situations you couldn't define, had been intimacy abuse all along.

Getting back to the topic that made me think about all this, the problem with abuse with non-sexual kinks isn't that one person feels sexual and you personally don't, sometimes they don't even feel sexual at all. The problem is that they've formed a one-sided intimate bond with you, that you did not ask for. Where the other person is sapping emotional needs, attention, and exchange from you, and you had no negotiation in those boundaries and what is expected of you. Whether or not they personally masturbated to it is not the problem, the abuse of that intimate connection and your unconseneted participation in that intimacy, is the problem.

Related to this, forming intimate connections first is what leads to sexual abuse, later. They create an intimate bond that the victim is unaware of, because it weakens them, makes them feel responsible without realizing what is happening, and makes them malleable to use in other ways, later on. This hyper-focus on Sex Good or Sex Bad has made it easier for abusers to create intimate bonds and hurt others before they are noticed. Everyone looks at the trap that was sprung last and see's that as the only cause that they miss the poison that was used to weaken them.

After you give all that consideration it becomes much easier to define where the line is when it comes to non-sexual Kink - the line is the that threshold of intimacy that you have to determine if you are comfortable or not comfortable with. It may also help you to define those weird moments with family, friends, and others that made you feel oddly vulnerable and expectant to the others, in ways you likely couldn't articulate but knew were violations of something personal.

Intimacy abuse can be as deeply cutting and long-lasting as any other kind of abuse, and should not be ignored.

#lady l speaks

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dornish-queen · 4 years

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GQ MEXICO - PEDRO PASCAL 2021

It seems that Pedro Pascal is in all possible universes. Here and there. In the past, in the present, and in galaxies far, far away. Today, the actor is considered the great entertainment reference and one of those in charge of saving a franchise that seemed lost. Enough reasons to talk exclusively about discipline, gastronomy, creeds and how he traumatized his father in 30 seconds.

The RAE defines 'creed' as the set of ideas, principles or convictions of a person or a group. For example, by creed, one can leave his country and be in exile. It happens that one can leave the loved one behind. Or simply live in another reality. And also one can put on a helmet to pretend never to take it off again. If that is the path to follow, the creed says that it must be done with the profession of faith and without stopping to look. Turning the pages of the script for The Mandalorian , the Disney + series that revived passion and nostalgia for the Star Wars franchise , Pedro Pascal came across this definition in every dialogue and moment, and reflection carved his way.

More than two decades have passed since the Chilean-American, Pedro Pascal, began his acting career and today, named as the great reference of 2020 , he misses the theater and it still hurts him not to have the discipline to exercise and maintain a diet sana while acknowledging the irony of having the best year of her career in the midst of one of the worst in recent history. But even in physical solitude, the man who carried the best-selling Christmas baby rescues many positive things and shares his vision of the universes he has traveled through, his passion for distant galaxies and how to traumatize your family with a simple scene of TV. In an interview, the Mandalorian of Latinamerica.

IMDB named you the 2020 benchmark in entertainment, a year in which the world took refuge in fiction. How was living your best time locked up and what do you rescue on a human level from it?

The strength of family relationships and friendship. For them, we endure this physical loneliness. I do find it ironic that in 2020 I received projects so well received by the public, although they were carried out before the pandemic and their impact was during it, and that year I was isolated and alone. But I must emphasize that this loneliness is a privilege when many people had to continue working, surviving and maintaining the functioning of the world. We only had to be alone, but they more than that and you must value it too.

Among the activities you have missed, how much do you miss the theater?

Much indeed. It's something that I miss the most and being with people without being afraid. See a play and return to those experiences of being with people doing and living things in common. That is what I need most, in addition to my loved ones.

Disney fully entered streaming and its strong letter has your face, what do you think of the discussion of platforms against movie theaters?

There are incredible things in streaming and many people develop great projects that they did not have access to before. The diversity of voices is gaining ground and it is important to recognize that opportunities grow exponentially and boundaries change. It is incredible the availability that we have to very well made content and how creative people can share their work in different ways. But I also want to be honest: limiting the experience of watching content only on our gadgets or at home is a mistake that affects the stories we can tell. You have to achieve a mix of opportunities and challenges.

You jump between the fictional universes that mark the last decades until you reach the universe of universes. What is your first Star Wars memory and how do you summarize the essence of this legendary story?

For me, Star Wars is nostalgia itself. It is one of the primary things in my memory, of my childhood. I came to the United States with my Chilean family when I was less than two years old and one of my first memories is going to the movies with my dad to see the saga ; it becomes one of those romantic childhood things that opens your mind, so imagine how special it is to participate in this project. I think the creators of The Mandalorian perfectly understand this nostalgia and that power, and they managed to count on that element as a great ally for the world of Star Wars and I couldn't be happier to be part of it. (From which we expect the third season The Mandalorian)

The Mandalorian exploits the power and nuances of your voice, did you have that letter on your resume?

I didn't know I could do it, but I resorted to my theater preparation, which was very physical on all levels and feelings. There are elements that have to do with and that are essential to create a role, and they teach you that the voice is something primary, something you have to start with and you cannot hide. Now I have learned much more about the importance of that, and how to use it economically. The body also has to do with that, because something very subtle communicates something. In The Mandalorian , I had a great time figuring out how to do it, they gave me the opportunity to develop it in different ways. The opportunity to be very intense at it.

What happens to the ego when someone works under a suit and a mask?

In the conversations about the project, before doing it, we were communicated the idea and the concept of the entire season , so I clearly understood what it was. I wanted it to be the most powerful version of what they were trying to accomplish, so there was no point in involving my ego, you know? It was already very clear what the project meant, so I knew about the character , the piece that it represented for him and the opportunity that it was for me, so I was only focused on executing in a better way the part that touched me in everything this. In the theater, I worked several times under a mask and it helped me develop the experience.

It seems that The Mandalorian has a very theatrical base ...

Exactly, and thanks to the physical experience of working in theater, doing a play a few times a week, discovering how your body and your voice communicate , being part of a whole image, and how you will tell that story visually, I achieved this character. I never imagined that it would be something I would have to use on such an important Star Wars project .

On the list of entertainment greats, there are names like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, do you think John Favreau should be added to the list?

I think your name is already included. Without a doubt, it is in that category and it is incredible. His vision fascinates me. I remember an episode in the second season , and I had some boots and I walked so much in the snow, it stuck to them. He figured it out, so he talked to the art department about the kind of boots you need when you're out in the snow. They approached me and gave me new ones that fulfilled the idea I was looking for. He noticed it in an instant. It is such a wonderful detail and it is repeated to scale in every session with him. He thinks of absolutely everything and his vision of the use of technology is admirable. He is someone who makes you feel motivated and always sees how to achieve the goal.

One of the reflections in the series is on how and under what circumstances a man can break his creed and way of life. What makes you break with your beliefs?

I think that you must follow your heart so as not to regret anything; Although sometimes it brings pain or conflict, deep down when you look back, everything is worth it because it was what you heard in your heart. I am very afraid to deny that feeling or not to attend to it. I am 45 years old now and I cannot believe I have a finer philosophy. Make it more disciplined. It's ridiculous, but I'm trying to accept that I am and it's all I can say, "follow your heart." Although, you know, I'm not on a good diet yet, I still have trouble sleeping or exercising.

Still good at Chilean empanadas?

Yes, I couldn't stop. And also how good that I do not live in Mexico City because I would only spend it eating. I could move my whole life to defe just to eat.

I want to deviate and ask you, with whom did you see the chapter of your death in Game of Thrones and what traumas did you cause in your family?

For me, no trauma. I separate myself well from the characters , although I fully understand that if I were a Game of Thrones audience and loved that character, it would make an incredible impression on me. Thank you that it was not. I had to interpret it and there was a model of my head to be crushed that way with the tubes and the fake blood, you know? Me lying there, with pieces of my meat, it was funny in the end. But not for my family. For them there is nothing funny but traumatic. My dad's voice changed completely when we saw the episode, he turned around and said: “I didn't like it, Pedro . No, Pedro , not this ”.

The media found similarities between your villain in Wonder Woman: 1984 and Donald Trump. When playing a character with characteristics like this, do you humanize him or do you understand him?

The project had nothing to do with the former president. They always told me that my character in Wonder Woman: 1984 was emotionally messy, and I took that and took that as far as possible. Instead of creating it with images or certain inspirations from life, it was more to work with what was on the page. Personally, what made sense to me is the size of the story that is being told and there is always more, and we all want more. Creatively, if this makes sense, that meant "blowing her out of the park." Connect a hit with the character and be committed to telling his story faithfully, in a way that was true to me. So all the exterior elements found their way.

What a way to start 2021 with the theme of the Capitol ... How do you perceive that moment?

I am not a politician and it is not that I do not have an opinion about this type of event; however, it is not necessary to state the obvious. My opinion would be very simple compared to that of a person who studied this, who knows how to act in these kinds of scenarios; I believe that I am next to the majority who experienced this, which is the logical result of what we have experienced during these years and we are all horrified . It was distressing to see this violence.

If you had the monolith in your hands, what would your wish be?

My wish would be… it's impossible, really (laughs). I think it is to be together again, with less fear and that people have the opportunity to connect.

What is your position on the reality that Chile has experienced in recent years and how has the relationship with your country been since exile?

It is something that I am developing and I continue to do in my life, trying to understand that it is my home. To be in Chile is to be at home, but my life has been very nomadic, living different things and having many influences; so it is strange, I do not feel with the title of a complete Chilean identity nor with an American one.

Neither here nor there?

In a sense, but I'm also completely both. My parents are Chilean , my brothers were born there before my parents traveled, and I came back sometimes because my family is very large; in fact, my parents came back. It has always been there, it continues to develop, and it will be a part of me. I don't know if it answers your question, but it has a lot to do with who I am.

What is your relationship with Latin American cinema? Are you interested?

Much, it has invaded me in life like American cinema. The movies that I carry in my heart, seeing something like Y tu mama was also something that changed me; I also love the work that comes out of Chile , and the only thing I can say is that it is a cinema that needs more access and projects.

Today you have a comedy with Nicolas Cage on the door, can you tell us something?

It's my first shot at comedy , as a complete story within the genre. Speaking of American influences , in the 80s I saw all the films where Nicolas Cage appeared , he came into my life and it's great to be his partner after seeing all his performances.

How is the relationship you have with the comedy genre?

I love it, I have done a lot of comedy in the theater, what happens is that in film and television issues , I was always part of drama castings . And in the cinema, you go where the doors open; Although I identify with one or the other, I think that being an actor , one goes and does what one has to do. Comedy is something unique, it is very challenging because it must be very real to be funny, you cannot hide or use normal tricks. I was very excited to have this challenge in front of a camera.

Finally, Pedro, after going through so many fictional worlds, literally, what do you dream about when you sleep?

I dream that my bathroom is dirty, that I haven't done my math homework, that the oven is on and all that stuff. Sure, there are times when I close my eyes and see myself in all these projects , although my conscience is with the anxieties of the day that you can imagine.

Without a doubt, Pedro Pascal is a particular type .

English Tranlation: Google Translate

SOURCE: GQ MEXICO

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #gq mexico #Articles

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daim1812 · 3 years

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Unknown Number (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Warnings: 18+, High School Reader, Reader's at legal age, Creampie, Shower Sex, Degradation (faintly), Perv! Levi, slight spanking and out-of-the-blue sex.

One Shot: 18+, One night stand (kind of)

Guides:

(Y/N) - Your name

(L/N) - Last name

(H/C) - Hair color

'Ring, ring, ring, ring!'

My eyes open delicately, getting used to the little light coming through the curtains. I stretch out on the bed, the sheets running over my body as I don't stop stretching my muscles. I make little sounds and then I sit on the bed. I look at the nightstand on the left side of my bed and notice my phone. I turn off the alarm that keeps ringing and check the time.

7:48 AM

My eyes widen rudely and I bolt out of bed. Soon I find myself in the bathroom, undressing and throwing myself into the water, taking a quick shower. I get out of the bathroom and soon start dressing.

I put on my underwear, my shorts, my black skirt and my white polo shirt. I decorate my feet with white stockings with blue lines at the top which reach my knees. I put on my black school shoes and run to the living room, grab my black jacket (uniform combination) and go back to the room to get my keys and backpack.

I walk to the door and after opening and locking it, I start running to school while I put my backpack on my shoulders.

8:10 AM

I'm a little late for school, but it was all worth it. The bell had already rung and everyone was going to their respective rooms. I run to my classroom and enter carefully, noticing that I had arrived early since there were still people missing from the class.

I sit in one of the chairs at the front and take out a folder, a pencil, and some notes.

There was an important exam that day. This exam would keep my grade for the year and no other exam this professor gave us was worth more than that exam. I had spent all that week studying like crazy so I could learn that test. My friends had spent some days with me studying, but then they decided to do it on their own, so I decided to continue with my studies.

The night before I had been feeling quite nervous to the point where I could no longer sleep. I finished studying and decided to go to sleep. I was able to fall asleep very late, so late that it was almost dawn.

I sigh nervously when the teacher comes to class. After he came in, he passed out his good morning and began handing in the exam. As soon as he gives me the test, my mind freezes and my hands immediately start to sweat, but I don't let it get me nervous.

I started to take the exam and later I could already remember some things that I had studied and read about 20 times in a row.

As I was about to finish the exam, only 5 questions unanswered, my phone started ringing. I took it cautiously so that the teacher or someone would not see me. I looked at the screen and frowned.

Unknown number

I put it back in my pocket and continued with the exam. I was almost done, two more questions so I could finish the exam, turn it in, and then leave the classroom. But my luck was so horrible that the stranger didn't seem to understand the concept of ignoring a call.

Unknown number

3 missed calls

I was getting quite annoyed so when he called again I answered, leaning my body to the side and letting my voice come out in a whisper.

"Hello?"

"Why did you do it, Petra?"

A male voice tasted my right ear and my insides wanted to know more about that voice so deep and strong.

I swallowed hard and whispered again, looking sideways and noticing that my partner on the right side was watching me curiously. I smiled at him and returned my attention to the call.

"I think you have the wrong number. Please don't call again."

I was about to hang up when the male voice spoke.

"Why the hell do you have Petra's phone number? Who are you?"

I was offended and upset. I looked at the cell phone and when I was planning to respond with an insult, someone takes the phone from me, making my face become a total poem, my body freeze in a strange pose and my heart pound strongly on my chest.

"Miss (L / N), you have 0% on the exam. Now, go to the principal's office; we will see if there you answer the phone on his face. Get out of my class now." And he hung up the call.

Perplexed, furious, stunned, my blood boiling, I grabbed my backpack and my phone which the teacher had left on my desk.

With an immense urge to cry, a lump in my throat, with an internal shame, I walk out of the room to the office to sit there waiting for a lecture that would leave me wanting to jump off a bridge.

I arrive at the office and no one is there, not even the secretary was there. After a few minutes standing in front of the secretary's desk, she arrives with some papers. She smiles at me and I explain why I'm there. She shakes her head disapprovingly and tells me to sit in one of the chairs near the desk.

I do what she tells me and soon I see her disappear from my sight.

I have tears accumulated in my eyes and I only screech when I realize that I had screwed up my semester just because of some stupid who wanted to annoy me at that very moment. This was all the fault of that idiot behind the phone.

I bite my lip furiously and grab my phone, unlock it, and look up the number I don't know, dial it, and wait for them to answer.

After a few long minutes, I hear the male voice answering my call.

"You are a fucking asshole, did you know that?"

I come out with the first thing that comes out of my mind, fury and rage blocking my reason and my thoughts.

"And who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that, brat?" I hear him growl and it makes me angrier than I am.

"BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKING FAULT I JUST FAILED MY SEMESTER! COULDN'T YOU GO FUCK SOMEONE ELSE'S LIVES?" I was screaming like a fool in the office, my tears starting to come out of my eyes. I notice that I scream and lower my voice so as not to attract attention.

"Tsk. That is not my problem, little girl. If YOU had studied and if YOU had not answered the call, none of that would have happened. Therefore, it is your fault. Irresponsible." I let out a frustrated sigh and dry my tears.

"Was I the one who called like 20 times? You are an idiot, an egocentric, a real piece of shit." And with that said I ended the call.

I cry like a fool, phone in hand. I hear my phone ring again and this time I curse out loud. I respond quickly with a lot of anger.

"WHAT?!"

"Curse me again, little girl, and I swear, I'll break you in two and not in a very cute way. What's your name, brat?” His voice lowers a bit in tone and I can tell that he is talking a little bored about the situation. I look sideways and lower my head, looking at my uniform.

"And what does that matter to you?"

"Brat... don't answer a question with another question. Answer the damn question. What's your fucking name?" He raises his voice a little and I stay silent.

“(Y / N)..." I whisper, but I know he heard me.

"Good. I'm Levi." He introduces himself in a short form.

"Nice to meet you..." I continued whispering.

"Anyway... what private school do you go to?" He asks and I frown.

"It’s a public school."

"For a girl very demanding of her grades, I am surprised that you’re not from a private school." He arrogantly says, making me angry again.

"Do you think public school students have no goals? We have more dreams than private school students could have. I imagine you say that because you were in a private school. I also imagine that because you were in a private school, you are a huge jerk . " My subconscious gives me a high-five and I gladly crash them. This is how it is done.

He huffs against the earpiece and then sighs.

"Do you want to play, little girl? Because I do I love to play. Fucking the lives of people who challenge me is my favorite pastime." His voice changes a bit in tone, being authoritative and mocking, but at this point I couldn't tell much.

"Moron." I whisper as low as possible, but he hears me. Still, he ignores what I said to go back to his question.

"What school do you go to?"

"None that you care about." My subconscious drops the popcorn and smiles wide, loving my responses.

"(Y / N), you are giving me a headache. Tell me where the hell is your school." He growls, and this time I bite my lip, something inside me liking that growl. I look at the floor and hear the sound of heels hitting the ground, announcing that someone was coming down the hall from the office.

I look at the phone and when I see the secretary lean in, I quickly hang up the call, lower the volume and put it on silence.

I look at the secretary whose name is Felicia and she tells me that I can go to the director now. I rolled my eyes for me and sighed, thanking the secretary and then headed for the principal's office.

After giving me a lecture and a half of all the bad things I have done, he lets me leave school, since many of my teachers had been absent.

As I'm on my way home, I can't stop thinking about the idiot that cost me my semester. Tomorrow I had planned to go to the teacher to see if he would give me the opportunity to make up the exam even if he took away some points. I would tell him what had happened and pray to God that this teacher had the decency to help me.

I get home and throw my backpack on the couch in the living room. I lived alone, but my parents helped pay for the apartment while I kept studying at that school. Sighing, I decide to just sit on the couch and put on a series that I had been watching in the previous week.

I spent most of the day watching the show, until I heard my stomach growling while just laying on the couch. So I started to prepare some food that I had in my kitchen.

After I finished, I sat back on the couch, ate something, and then, realizing that it was late, packed everything up, put the plate in the sink, and went to my room. I bathed, changed, checked the notebooks, and then went to sleep.

When I closed my eyes, the first thing that came to my mind was my semester all destroyed and the male voice that ruined everything.

I curse out loud and knock all of that out of my brain. My subconscious is moving its head from side to side, shaking its head as it makes all trace of what had happened in the day disappear.

Minutes later I had already fallen to sleep with my pillow on one side, sleeping to wait for tomorrow.

===============

I got to school early, walking down the hallways to get to my first classroom. I enter the classroom and meet the teacher who had thrown me out. I say good morning to him and he does not hesitate to say something to me.

He starts class and I don't stop paying attention at all times. At the end of the class, I go to the teacher and explain what happened. With a great and beautiful miracle from heaven, the teacher understood. He told me to come the next day so that I can take the test again. I left the classroom happy and headed to my next classes.

Coming out of my third class, going to recess, I decided to go out of my way to go to my friends to go to the bathroom. When I was going to go in, I trip over someone and my phone, which I had in hand rummaging through my music, falls to the floor. I almost scream when I see it on the ground and I feel like dying. I squat down and pick it up, looking at it to see if something had happened to it. This starts to boil my blood and I stand up again, looking at the person to whom knocked down my phone. I looked at the person and noticed his features. He had totally gray eyes, dark and full of many problems. I could notice it. His hair covered his forehead a little and it was jet black. He was a little short, more or less my height. I feel self-conscious, like he's intimidating me; I feel attracted to this. My cheeks turn a little red, but it quickly fades.

"Can't you see where you're walking, brat? Tsk. Reckless." I was going to continue walking, but I whispered, making him stop and turn around. "What did you say?"

"Don't you have ears?" I faced him, now speaking a little loud.

"Come and say it to my face.” He leaned closer to me a little, challenging me. I frowned, this attitude reminding me a bit of the idiot on the phone. I shake my head a bit and face him.

"That you are a fool.” I looked up at the man in front of me and he raised an eyebrow.

"And you are a very irritating brat ..." he leans a little closer to me and grabs my nape, closing the distance between us. He brought his lips close to my ear and with an extremely sensual voice, he whispered. "... (Y / N).”

He walked away.

With a mischievous smile that then turned into a fine line on his lips, indicating that he was in a bad mood, he disappeared from my sight.

I was puzzled by what happened. I came out of my trance and went into the bathroom. I did what I had to do and then I went with my friends. I wasn't paying much attention to what my friend and best friends were saying, I was only thinking about the gray-eyed man. In this Levi.

When classes were over, I went home, stopping somewhere to buy some food. I didn't feel like doing anything to eat so I bought myself some Chinese food and then went home. I breathed a little sigh when I got to the apartment, I wanted to get there to eat and then go to work at 6 in the afternoon, at the cafe on the corner.

As I got to the front of my apartment door, I realized that there was a silhouette in front of my door. I frowned and moved closer; noticing the short boy's hair, I rolled my eyes, passing by his side and pulling out the key.

"Are you following me, inept?" I look at him, as I feel his gaze on my body. He doesn't show any emotion and he just flinches at me.

"Did the cat bite your tongue, you idiot?" I said again, smiling sarcastically. He didn't respond and I was already starting to get a little irritated. I opened the door and stepped inside. I was going to close the door, but Levi's hand stops me. I look at him and mumble. "Want something?"

"Let me make it up to you for missing this semester." Finally he said, a dry and serious tone. He gave me a little chill down my spine, but I shook it off fast.

"I don't even know you."

"We can change that." He pushed open my door and stepped inside, ignoring my screams. I rolled my eyes again and closed the door. I saw him looking at my apartment, touching everything and watching it carefully.

"This is filthy dirty. How can you live here? Disgusting." He pouted his lips and the blood went straight to my head. I calmed down and went to the kitchen.

"So... Levi, right?" I grabbed a plate and served the food to myself. My subconscious kicks me a little and I curse. "You want...?" I offer him. He walks over to the kitchen and looks at the food. Then he looked at me seriously and nodded. I smiled at him, for the first time, and served the food for him. I took it to the table and put some bottled water for him, a crystal glass next to the bottle.

"And... how do you plan to reward me?" I look into his gray eyes and for a moment I lose myself in it. My cheeks turn crimson and I have to look at my plate to relax. My subconscious doesn't seem to like my behavior very much and makes me understand that I don't know him.

"I'll talk to the teacher about the situation.” He said curtly, just eating some of what I served him. I bite my lip a little and look at him. Fine lips, perfect for kissing. An upturned nose, made to measure. His gray eyes and small dark circles under his eyes, a symbol that he was not sleeping well. I felt a little bad and curiosity wanted to win me in this, but I did not let it.

"I already spoke to him. Don't worry."

"Don't address me informally.” He said quite cold and cutting, causing me to squirm in my chair a bit, feeling that what he had said was wrong.

“I’m sorry..."

"What did the Professor said to you?" He asked after a great silence between us.

"That tomorrow he would give me the opportunity to make up the exam. At least he understood that an unknown idiot made me fail the class." I look at him, not caring about the labels or anything.

He watches me calmly, serenely, boredom included. It seemed like he didn't want to be there.

"Call me idiot again and I won't answer, brat." He murmured and went back to eating, ignoring my gaze on his body. He had some buttons undone and you could see his abs a bit. I died internally and my subconscious had to fan itself with their hand.

"Okay. Also," he looks me in the eye irritably. "Could you leave before 5:20 PM? I have to work."

"Where do you work?"

"In a coffee shop on the corner. They pay good so I stayed there. Besides, I need the money." I add with a nod, picking up the chicken and putting it in my mouth, giving some liking to my palate.

"How much do you get paid per hour?" Levi is looking at me now, his eyes never stop piercing my white polo from school. I hadn't even had a chance to change my clothes.

"$5.25 an hour. It's quite a lot for me. Not much though. I only work 5 hours, plus tips from clients, which isn't much either. But I like the place; it's quiet and has a Christmas scent most of the time. That's something I love a lot. " I smile and he doesn't stop looking at my smile. I notice it and I can't stop shifting in my chair.

"How old are you?" I look at him with some food in my mouth; he's waiting for me to delight the chicken. I swallow easily and press a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"18." I muttered, going back to eating some more of the chicken, which was actually yummy.

"I see." He stops eating and grabs the crystal glass in a very strange way. He picks it up and drinks from over the glass. I feel lost in the way he holds the glass. When finished, he puts it back where it was and watches me. "You smell.”

"What...?" I whisper incredulous. Did he just...?

"You smell. Take a shower. " His back touches the back of the chair and his gaze infuses mine.

"WHAT?!" My cheeks turn red with rage and I have to restrain myself from getting up from the chair and punching him in the very beautiful face that he has. "WELL, IF YOU WERE NOT ROAMING AROUND LIKE A SEXUAL HARASSER, I WOULD HAVE ALREADY BATHED! Now, get out of my house!" I yelled at him, lifting myself out of the chair and walking to my room in a fury. I don't hear him speak or mutter anything, so I deduce that he was gone. I closed the bathroom door and took off all my clothes, the school uniform, leaving it in a place away from the water. I step into the bathroom and sigh, thinking about how long the day had been. I sigh again when the water passes through my body slowly, filling me with joy. I let the water wash away all my worries, my despair, my crazy starts and I let myself be carried away by the sound of water falling to the ground. I let go of my (H / C) locks and put my head in the water, the water sliding all over my body. I lather up slowly, loving every second and minute that I spent in the shower.

Suddenly I feel a hand surround my waist and another hand position itself in my mouth, so that no sound comes out. A silent scream comes out of me and I feel myself dying in the arms of a stranger.

"Take it easy." The cold, emotionless voice calms me down a bit, noticing whose he was. He lets his hand escape my mouth and positions it on my waist. I breathe hard, trying to get past the bad scare I had.

"Are you stupid or what? You almost scared me to death Levi. Oh my God!" I put a hand on my chest and calm down. I hear him snort and cling to my body.

Good grief of the cowboy saints and the entire galaxy!

He had a heart attack body. I didn't see it, but I did feel it. A few abs pressing against my bare back, a v-line running down his crotch and... and let's not talk about his little friend. He was more than a friend at this point.

I feel my cheeks burn and then a short, low moan escapes me. He reaches up to my ear and with his teeth grabs my earlobe, pulling it for himself. I moaned loudly and I squirm in his chest, my breathing starting to go wild.

"Le-Levi ..." his name leaves my lips and for the first time and I feel that it is the most beautiful and most sensual name that I have heard in my entire life. He seems to like me how I moan his name because he now he presses his semi-hard cock against my buttocks, taking my breath away.

"That's it... moan my name, slut.” He whispers in my ear and even though he called me a slut, it made me so wet, getting a loud moan in response. So encouraging.

His hands run through my body and never move away from me. I feel his breath on my neck and I tremble at the touch of him on my stomach. His hands slowly move up my stomach and he positions himself close to my breast. He seems to try to retract, but he doesn't. Instead, he just goes ahead and grabs my right breast, squeezing it in his hand, making me squirm at his gigantic hands that literally fit my breasts perfectly.

I screech at his hand starting to pull on my nipple, his other hand kneading my breast. Then he presses his manhood to my back and begins to rub against me, moans escaping my throat.

I can't think, everything is blocked in my mind. I try to listen to what my subconscious is telling me, but my body doesn't want to respond and begins to rock my hips against Levi. I hear him growl and bring his mouth to my neck, sighing against me, sticking his tongue out of him and licking a large part of my neck.

I moan loudly and can't stop moving my hips back. He bites my neck slowly, digging his teeth into me a little. I drop my neck on his shoulder and he now holds me in his big arms.

"Are you so needy, (Y / N)?" He whispers into my neck and then turns me around, this time letting me see the whole picture of him. His pecs, his strong thighs and legs, his gray eyes now a little black and his hair a little wet because of me.

I bite my lip and don't take my eyes off him. My eyes land on his manhood and I feel myself almost falling to the ground from the greatness before my eyes.

Could that really fit into such a small place?

He watches me lustfully, noticing that I see his manhood with eyes of concern and desire. He wraps his arms around my waist and presses me to him, slowly getting closer to my lips. He smirks mischievously and runs his tongue across my lips.

“It will fit. And if he doesn't fit in, I'll have to force him." Then he kisses me.

He kisses me with a force that pushes me back and my back is pressed against the cold wall. I groan at the cold touch and he takes that opportunity to subjugate his tongue into my oral cavity.

I feel myself dying before his lips and his hands go down my waist, resting on my ass. He imprisons me on him and his member presses on my stomach, slowly coming down into my crotch.

The water falls on our glued bodies and gives it an exciting and lustful atmosphere. Levi won't let me go, kissing me until my lungs are out of breath. He stops kissing me and starts spreading kisses all over my face until he reaches my neck where he starts giving small, wet kisses. One of his hands goes up my stomach and positions himself on my breast, grabbing the already erect nipple and manipulating it at will.

He makes me moan and gasp continuously, letting me run my hands through his raven hair and pull him with quick movements.

After a few seconds, Levi looks me in the eye and I have to blink quickly not to get behind in his gaze. I see him smile mischievously and then as he grabs my ass, he makes me jump and my legs wrap around his waist.

My hands go behind his neck and I let them rest there. His lips seek mine and when he finds them, he kisses me with passion and eagerness. I kiss him back and soon we are carried away by the kiss.

The water continues to fall on our bodies and now I can begin to moan like a cat in heat. The only thing that can be heard is the sound of water falling against the floor and our breaths accompanied by short, soothing moans.

Suddenly I find myself looking between our bodies together, noticing how Levi grabs his member and leads him to my entrance. I groaned loudly and dig my nails on his shoulder. He growls at my act and gives me an angry look.

"Do not do that." He mumbles and I know he is holding back, that deep inside him he had liked what I did.

I bite my lower lip and look into his eyes.

"I am a virgin."

All the anger has died down, going to a more formal face, a face of perhaps surprised, but he knew how to hide it quite well. I watch him warily, wandering my eyes all over his face and hear him snort.

Then, I feel his lips touch mine again, but in a softer and more subtle way, letting the cold of my lips warm to his. I feel like dying before the softness that he takes. One hand is still supporting my weight and the other now places it on my cheek, holding it gently. We kiss for a short time and then he pulls away from me, a bit of saliva connecting our lips. Levi give me a little "tsk" and then returns his gaze to our crotches.

"I know you're a virgin ... I'll try to be as careful with you. If it bothers you, just squeeze my shoulders and I'll stop." I nod and he gives me one last look, then begins to press on my entrance.

I bite my lip quickly, the same with which he looks at me while he is pressing his throbbing member against me. He pushes the head of his member inside and I let out a silent scream, internally crying.

Levi spreads kisses down my neck and my head leans back as I try not to cry from the pain. He stays like that for a few seconds, pampering me in his arms, kissing my neck, repeating to calm me down with a slow and deliberate voice.

He looks at me and I try everything to be able to look at him. He brings his forehead to mine and after giving me a little kiss on the nose, he whispers:

"I'm going in."

He subdues the entire length of him inside me, taking my breath away and finally breaking every virginity he had. I try to hold back my tears, but soon one or another comes out of my eyes. Levi kisses me and does not move inside me, understanding that it was better for him to get used to the length and thickness of him.

I pat him on the back, my head pressed to his shoulder, my teeth gently biting my lower lip. His cock throbs inside me and I feel Levi growl low. His hands make me jump a little so that the weight is just right for him and his member takes this opportunity to impale himself inside me again. My throat goes wild and I let out all the louder moans I've ever heard made before.

Levi begins to move inside me slowly, his lips pressing on my shoulder as I moan without concern into his neck. My head tilts a little and it gives me a chance to look Levi in the eye. I press my forehead against his as Levi begins to sway continuously and eagerly.

"More..." I sighed between moans, my nipples rubbing against his chest, letting Levi draw a growl that felt it all over my pussy, getting me more wet than necessary.

Levi looks me straight in the eye and his heart surrenders to what he sees. Suddenly he pushes me against the wall, the water falling between us, and without letting me think for a moment what was happening, his member begins to rush in and out of me.

He fucks me with such agility that I can't almost breathe. His lips stick to my neck and he bites down hard, leaving his bite marks on the edge of my neck and my collarbone.

I hear Levi's grunting and my pussy can't help but contract and get wetter than before, and Levi notices this, making it harder for him to get in and out.

"You're so... tight." I groan in response, my head flooded in clouds and paradises as I am supported by Levi.

Even though my mind was screaming at me what the hell I was doing this with a guy I barely knew and who, to make matters worse, almost made me miss a whole semester, I didn't have the slightest desire of importance in me. It felt so good in the arms of that short boy. I felt that I could achieve glory while he pampered me with words and on the other hand made me want that sexual act more intensely.

Fuck, he felt so good. He felt so fucking rich.

Levi bites my nipples and brings me back to reality. Almost drooling into his arms that keep pressing me to the wall, I look at him with lust and a little confusion as to why he did that.

His eyes meet mine and I can't contain my moans as I watch him suck on my nipples. He bites and then licks my nipple, moving to the other to repeat the same action. Suck, bite and lick.

I screech at the itch on my bottom and instantly know that Levi had whipped my ass with his hand.

My pussy tightens around him again, and Levi moans again, loving that my pussy took the size of him so well.

"Look at me." He orders me, smacking my ass again. His mouth is drawn to one side with a mischievous smile as he does not let my nipple escape from his thin and luscious lips.

It's hard for me to look at him, but I do my best to keep my eyes from closing in pleasure. His hand grabs my chin and makes me look at him, those gray eyes now with dilated pupils and his wet hair pressing into his forehead.

So sensual.

My nails dig into his back and I moan maddeningly at his onslaught nonstop. We stared at each other, he gripping my chin tightly so that my head wouldn't tilt back, and I between closing and opening my eyes. I bite my lower lip and continue moaning, my breasts rising in time with the fierce thrusts.

"I told you... to look at me." He growls against my chest, his teeth nipping at my nipple with no subtlety, making me scream on the spot.

I look at him quickly, the water droplets almost blurring my vision. Still, I don't take my gaze away from his as he continues to grab my nipple and violently slap it between his lips. He sucks incessantly, like a baby, and my pussy squeezes my juices.

"Le-Levi ..." I call his name as my waist rises in time with his hips. His balls hit my entrance, the water and my juices creating an extravagant sound throughout the bathroom.

"I am so close." I moan at him, grabbing his cheeks and forcing him away from my nipples, letting a POP roll off his lips. I look into his eyes and push my lips against his, kissing him passionately, pushing my tongue into his mouth.

His thin fingers sink into my hips and he soon begins to thrust rapidly, in and out of my wet pussy without any difficulty.

He pulled me away from his lips a few inches when I felt my orgasm reach its maximum. I dig my nails back into his back and scratch him from the bottom up, wanting to hold on and hold on to him.

I hear him growl and gasp a little in my ear when he notices my pussy twitch around him as he presses his cock's head against my G-spot.

I bite his shoulder quickly as a high-pitched scream comes out of me, not being able to take much more of that passionate sex session. My fingers continue to dig into his back as my toes curl and my legs jerk. My moans are heard throughout the apartment and Levi seems to love it as he pulls my earlobe and growls in my ear.

Soon his thrusts begin to cease, the white liquid fading inside me, running gently down my lips and my thighs. I hear him moan as his member lets out the last drops of his semen on me.

He holds me for a few more minutes, our breaths heavy and colliding with both of our necks. My nipples are still upright on his chest and his member comes out of my pussy to give his semen a chance to come out of my hole.

Levi lets my feet touch the ground gently, still watching the spasms of my orgasm in my legs. His fingers are still buried in my hips as I lean back on the wall. I clear my throat and uncomfortably turn so the water runs down my wet, sweaty back. Levi says nothing and I pray to keep it that way.

After cleaning up and letting Levi do the same, I walk out of the bathroom to get dressed. Levi comes out behind me with a towel hooked around his waist.

My cheeks are flushed and I have to turn my gaze not to let him know that I found that image too tempting.

After dressing and looking at the clock next to my bed, I can tell that my workday would soon begin.

"Umm ..." I mumble, watching Levi put his shoes on and then stand up and look at me. "I think ... it's better now ... that you leave ..."

I almost whisper the words, but the intimidating look Levi gives me leaves me stuck on in my place.

I hear his footsteps approaching me and my subconscious starts to panic. I forget to breathe, my hands sweat and my heart pumps with more force as his hand is positioned on my waist, drawing me towards him.

"For a little girl ... you made me come like no one else." He mutters, the mischievous smile appearing on his face. My blush is higher than before and I really couldn't think clearly.

I walk away from him and point to my bedroom door, causing him to walk me to the front door.

He does not look at me at any time and I only flinch to murmur goodbye when I see him cross the threshold of the door.

Before leaving, he takes my chin, makes me look at him and with a face of loathing mixed with lust, licks my lips slowly.

Sensual.

"You don't smell now, idiot." He whispers into my lips, leaning back slowly. "Call me to screw you again ... and I hope this time is not your semester." I smile and watch him disappear from my sight as he stepped into the elevator.

I closed the door as quickly as possible and took a deep breath.

OXYGEN, ENTER MY BODY.

My legs slowly sag and soon I find myself on the ground with my cheeks red, my hands pressed to my knees and my mouth half open in surprise.

I really did something like that?

What kind of outrageous person have I become?

Fuck, but it had felt wonderful. He made me touched the sky and he swore he wanted to do it again. My fingers slowly trailed down my thighs, remembering how his hands roamed up my hips and infused me against his, his cock throbbing every time he sank inside me.

I feel my fingers position themselves on my panties, my head tilting back with a groan. I had hardly felt the glory and wanted more.

My fingers get lost inside my panties and land on my clit, giving me the feeling of desire and anguish for more. I start a slow, fragile movement against my clit, thinking of Levi's hands touching me as if it was the only thing I wanted to do at the moment. My other hand lowers the bra over my breasts and my fingers engage in kneading and pinching my nipples, which begin to rise up against my fingers.

The swaying of my fingers doesn't compare to Levi's thrusts, but they calm me with lust when I insert one of my fingers into my entrance. My head slides back into the door with a solid moan, my pussy getting wet non-stop as I masturbate in the doorway to the memories of Levi fucking me in my bathroom. I let myself sink into thoughts and continue my instinctive process of spontaneous release.

I prick and knead my nipples, my other fingers running circularly over my clit, seeking quick release and relaxation. My moans rise again in pitch and suddenly I find myself moaning Levi's name as my body contracts and rises into the air. My hips jerk as my body squirts liquid from my pussy. I continue to moan as my body relaxes on the floor, the liquid exposed all over the floor at the entrance to my apartment.

Flushed, wet, with lust clouding my head, I get up to clean everything that my body dripped. I head back to my room, taking a quick bath, putting on my work clothes, and grabbing my things to get out of the apartment. I mentally note that I had to go to the pharmacy to find some contraceptive pills since I had let a total stranger come inside me.

Before opening the door to leave, I remember my phone, rummaging through my purse. I unlock it and the message on the screen frightens me and makes me wet again.

Very sensual.

Message from: The bitch who screwed up my semester 🤦🏽‍♀️

Your moans were heard throughout the hall. I was barely gone and you were already dripping for me. Brats like you deserve a lesson. And you will see what a lesson I will teach you... slut.

The boy from the wrong number was extremely sensual.

End

Thank you so much for reading this!~

Have a good day or night, beautiful. 🥰

This is a translated version. The original version will be posted in due time.

#levi ackerman #levi heichou #levi x reader #levi smut #levi x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #reader insert #levi attack on titan

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ageofevermore · 4 years

Text

Golden

summary → in which Harry doesn’t understand how he can possibly love such a small baby so painfully much.

word count → 1.7k

note → this might require a few deep breaths because oh lord, i really laid the fluff down thick.

add yourself to my taglist

When you and Harry had fallen pregnant it was unexpected. You had been talking about starting a family in the near future, but hadn't felt the need to fall in deep. You were aware of the problems you might face with natural conception, especially due to the stress of being employed by the entertainment industry, but just three days after your conversation, the both of you had gotten carried away in a moment of beautiful love.

You had been on birth control ever since your seventeenth birthday when your mother figured you might begin to explore your sexual desires. It was something she was quite open about, making it easier to tell her that you were seeing a green eyed wonder called, Harry.

It was just after a morning run through LA that you took a test. It was some cheap brand, an impulse buy after laying in bed worrying about your lack of protection weeks prior. You had been paranoid for days, your cycle abnormally long and lacking the usual symptoms of tension and muscle aches. Instead, you had full fledges cramps and headaches.

When the first test came back positive you almost fainted on the floor of your en-suite. Harry was just downstairs and heard the unusual commotion. You were usually light on your feet, a classically trained ballet dancer as a child. It was worrisome to find you doubled over on your hands and knees beside the tipped over nightstand. Harry had immediately rushed to your aid, collecting your frame in his hands and pressing soft kissing to your forehead until he could get your attention. Your eyes were dazed, hands balling into the fabric of his thick black jumper. You were completely beside yourself with joy.

"What's a'matter, moppet?" He mumbled against your forehead, pulling your legs over his lap so her could bring you closer. He softly pried your hands away from his jumper, kissing your clenched knuckles fervently. "Scaring me, love. What's got you so worked up?"

The thought of the positive pregnancy test in your palm brought on a new wave of tears. The tip of your nose trembled as you broke into a wide grin, breaking down completely into Harry's chest with gleefully shocked giggled. Harry didn't waste a minute, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you closer to his chest. Your legs wrapped around him like a koala, but it only made this moment sweater for you. For now, you were the only one that knew about the growing baby making a home for itself inside of you. For years you had overlooked how special this moment would be.

"Pet." Harry cooed, bringing his fingers down your spine. The metal of his rings was cold when he lifted your shirt and tickled your back with scratches. "Gotta tell me what's got you so giddy."

Uncoordinatedly you smashed your lips against Harry's. Your teeth knocked against his harshly, but all you could manage was a smile that left his lips wet, "We're parents." Your whispered.

The end of your pregnancy was brutal, complete with unbearable braxton hicks and obscene swelling. You had been riddled with insomnia for weeks as well, and the throbbing in your fingers was brought on by the wedding band stuck between your knuckles that even elevation and heating pads couldn't help. Harry had done his absolute best to make you comfortable, but even his hour long foot rubs and 3am snack runs did little for you. None of that was relevant now, nor was the stitching holding your torn vagina together. Your baby, sweet Indie Anne Styles, was here. She was perfect, and she was finally before your eyes.

Her warm pink body was flush against your chest. Harry stood off to the side, tears blurring his vision as he took in the picture before him. His first true love was embracing their own little mini. He had no doubts that his little Indie was a product of the truest breed of young love. Indie, Harry wasn't so sure the big name fit her little body and button nose.

"Look at her, lovie." You sniffled, running your finger down her cheek. She had finally stopped wailing, settling into your warmth and letting herself fall asleep in your embrace. You were certain birth was tiring for babies, glad to see that your little love was resting up now and getting ready to experience the life you and Harry had shaped just for her. "She's perfect."

"Knew she would be, love." Harry came closer to the both of you, bending down to press a kiss to your sticky forehead. He loosely grabbed the newborns hand, chocking on a sob when she gripped his thumb. Her grip was tight for such a tiny human, and already Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to live every day with a heart so heavy with love.

Your husband was barely keeping himself together over your shoulder as he admired your daughter. You had gently coaxed a pacifier between her lips after watching her squirm, and the soft pink plastic only brought Harry a new wave of overwhelming love and protection. He never wanted anything to hurt his littlest love, his precious baby Indie.

"Thank you, pet." He cried into your crown, pressing gentle kissed to your hair and face at an uncomfortable angle. He didn't want to hurt you, but he needed to thank you for this moment. It was everything he had always dreamed of and so much more, "Thank you for her. Thank you."

It had taken Harry three weeks to call Indie her name, having a habit of referring to the newborn as 'his little angel'. You didn't mind the title, but hearing her name on the tip of his tongue made you weak. He had taken great to becoming a father, like you knew he would. You had never had any doubts about just how unconditionally Harry would love your little human. He was up with you during every feed, changing all the diapers until you were healed enough to bare standing at the change table for long stretches.

He bought only the best for his Indie too. Her nighttime routine was prepped with high end vegan moisturizers and ointments. Her diapers were made of organic, non toxic, vegan materials. He didn't care for prices, only quality. Harry was as relatively humble man. He never talked about wealth or thought it as anything valuable, but he also, despite what it seems, didn't splurge on high end products often. He had his limits and boundaries, but his money was used wisely and not thrown away on material. He refused to let Indie soak in a cheap diaper though, even when you assured him that most diapers were exceptionally made and there was no need to spend a few hundred dollars every month.

It didn't take long for Indie to form more defined features, one being her insanely bright blue eyes and thin strands of soft blonde hair. You weren't quite sure where your baby girl came from to be honest, seeing as your eyes weren't near the same shade of color as hers nor were Harry's. Her hair was ungodly as well. Almost like your favorite disney film, her locks were strikingly golden. It had only taken a month before you caught Harry above her crib, whispering a fond, "Good morning, golden girl."

Golden had been her name since that dewy spring morning. You couldn't see her as anything but, adoring the nickname Harry had brought upon the three of you. It was odd when you had family visiting and they would refer to your precious Golden as Indie.

It was just after two am when the shrill screams of your infant severed the sleep you and Harry were catching up on. His arm was thrown around your waist, and for a minute neither one of you moved. She was going through a growth spurt meaning the usually laid back baby you shared a house with was needy and desperate for her fathers attention and your satin milk. It was hard to give her what she wanted at times. You knew she was hungry, but she didn't want to leave Harry's arms.

That had happened just the other day. With the luck you were working on, you had forgotten to pack away another pre-made bottle. She was eating so frequently you hadn't had the need to pump, but that decision came back to bite you when she woke up from her nap hungry and only wanting her daddy. You both had eventually figured out a way to please her, but it had been frustrating and stressful on the three of you alike. It was safe to say you were always on top of bottles now.

When Harry finally did pull away from your warmth, he kissed your temple before feeling the room, not before you heard the last of his mutter, "I'm coming, Goldie."

You were sure your heart exploded in that moment. When you saw him again, this time with a squirmy baby impatiently suckling on the nipple of a pacifier, tears were gathering in your eyes. You smiled widely down at your little love, affectionately stroking her cheek. You settle her against your chest, wincing when she latches, but relaxing when her sucks become rhythmic and predictable.

In the darkness Harry couldn't make out your teary smile, instead just moving around the master and preparing another diaper for Goldie, having felt the wet one when he picked her up from the crib moments ago. He could hear you praising the baby for doing such a good job, promising that it was okay if she woke up every thirty minutes, but what caught him off guard was when you brushed your thumb over her cheek and whispered, "Look just as pretty as your Daddy, Goldie."

"Y'heard that, huh?" He stuttered. He knew you weren't too fond of the first few nicknames he had given Goldie, and he was almost fearful that you would reject his shortened version of Golden.

You rolled your eyes softly at his question, patting a patterned on your baby girl's diapered bottom as she nursed with sleepy eyes. "I think it's cute, fits her."

Harry smiled widely at the pair of you, the dim moonlight capturing the perfect moment in his memory. His love for you and Goldie somehow got deeper every day. He never wanted to leave this stripped down midnight moment. This perfectly golden moment.

#dad!harry #Harry Styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #fine line #fine line series #goldie styles #husband!harry #boyfriend!harry #best friend!harry

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yesttoheaven · 4 years

Text

I SEE YOU – chapter III

pairing – arthur fleck x female!reader

wc – 2.6k

warnings – just fluff and a little bit of angst

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

Y/L/N – your last name

🔴 chapter one. chapter two. chapter three.

The actress looked around, enjoying the apartment where Arthur lived with his mother. The place was small, very different from what she was used to, but this simplicity was nostalgic and reminded her of her childhood; when everything seemed simple, despite the difficulties.

Unfortunately Arthur was still at work, but Penny assured her that he would be back soon and added that Y/N could wait for him. At first Brian didn't approve of this idea, considering that the actress was going to an important dinner tonight, but he should know that it’s impossible to say no to her puppy eyes. Now Brian is probably driving to Misty's house, ready to take her to Y/N's apartment, exactly as they agreed the day before. The only difference would be the absence of the actress, but this would be justified with: "She's at Angelina's." Although the plan was apparently perfect, leaving her alone with practically unknown people was worrisome. Y/N's safety was his responsibility. If something happened to her, Brian would never forgive himself, but she stated with all the letters that she would stay inside the apartment, waiting for him with Arthur and Penny. And they were not bad people.

Y/N didn't like to involve Brian in this web of lies, but Misty knew how to be stifling when she wanted to. Visiting Arthur was not illegal, but she didn't see it that way. In her conception, to be friends with Y/N Y/N/L you need to have a bank account with many zeros after the comma.

Placing her manager at the bottom of her thoughts, Y/N's eyes fell on the small table next to the couch she was on. A few magazines were spread out and a shy smile crossed her lips. She would probably never get used to it.

Noticing the young woman's interest in magazines, Penny said:

"This actress is so graceful."

"You think? I hear only bad things about her." Y/N replied, taking one of the magazines and placing it next to her face, reproducing the cover.

When the realization reached Arthur's mother, she looked at Y/N with wide eyes, thinking it was a mirage caused by the effects of the medicines she used daily. When she opened the door and found the woman on the other side, Penny didn't imagine that Y/N was Y/N Y/L/N, the same woman who is in all these magazines.

"That was my first cover... six years have passed and I'm still nervous on camera." The actress smiled, leaving the magazine with the other copies.

"You need to excuse me, I'm too old for that... I watch your movies with my son and I was unable to recognize you."

"It's all right, these photos are usually a little bit manipulated. Maybe that's why you didn't recognize me."

The conversation continued pleasantly between them. Penny Fleck didn't feel like she was talking to one of Gotham's biggest actresses; Y/N seemed to be just a nice neighbor, the one who always shows up for a visit at the end of the day. They only knew each other for a few minutes, but it didn't matter, Penny was comfortable, sharing with her a little bit of his life with Arthur, or Happy as she used to call her son. The actress considered this point intriguing, because when she met Arthur, sadness was the only thing that existed on his face like a second skin, but maybe she was just impressed.

...

Every day was exactly the same for Arthur. He went to work, spent the day spinning his sign in front of a store or visited sick children in hospitals – this was his favorite; Carnival loved to bring joy to them. The time to return home represented some relief for the clown. This meant that his co-workers would have to wait for the next day to continue making fun of him. Arthur would always be a joke for everyone.

Tired for another exhausting day at work – or just being who he is – all Arthur wanted at that moment was to relax by smoking a cigarette. Dragging himself out of the elevator, he made his way to his old apartment and took the keys out of his pocket to open the door. He warned that he was back, but his mother did not respond. Arthur suspected she was asleep, but as soon as he put his feet in the living room, his body froze.

The likelihood of them seeing each other again was one in a million, but here she was, surprising him once again. There was no plausible explanation for what he was feeling at the moment. Accelerated heart. Sweaty palms. And the most sincere smile of his entire life. Arthur was genuinely happy. Seeing the actress again was enough to erase all his problems. Y/N was like a breath of fresh air to his lungs. There was something about her, something that you notice from a long distance, but that Arthur can't put into words.

"Happy, your friend was waiting for you." Penny broke the silence, bringing them to reality again.

With a smile, Y/N stood up, running her hands over the dress she wore. She approached the man and greeted him in her soft voice:

"Hi, Arthur. How've you been?" Surprised by her own courage, she touched his shoulder and left a kiss on his cheek.

Arthur felt his cheeks turn into two tomatoes and he automatically looked at the ground, hiding a shy smile in the corner of his lips. But knowing that she was waiting for an answer, he took a deep breath, looking at her again and saying:

"Hey, I'm... I'm good. How about you?"

"I couldn’t be better. I hope I'm not bothering you, your mom said I could stay to wait for you."

"Don't say that, you never bother, dear! Now I'm going to leave you two alone so you can talk." The woman tried to get up and Arthur quickly moved to stand beside her, helping Penny back to the bedroom.

It was easy to see how much he loves his mother.

A few minutes later, Arthur was back in the living room, looking a little nervous about the situation. It was possible to state that the actress felt the same way, remembering the reason that brought her to the other side of the city. She didn't want to say anything in front of Penny, but now she could and the words were stuck in her throat.

"I don't know where to start... I'm so sorry for the way you were treated. They couldn't have done that to you, Arthur."

"How d-did you know?"

"Brian talked to the receptionist..." She said, biting her lower lip in an attempt to control herself, but that was not enough. "I'm so mad at Susan! Who does she think she is to treat you that way?"

"Don't be m-mad at her because of me... It's okay, I'm used to it." Arthur replied, trying to reassure the actress. The last thing he wanted to do was be responsible for erasing her smile, but his words made Y/N even more concerned.

"What are you saying?"

"My life is... different from yours." He murmured, shaking his shoulders as if it didn't matter, but the sad expression on his face showed just the opposite. "I d-don't want to bother you with my stupid problems. This is not worth your time."

"But I have all the time in the world to hear you. Please tell me..." Y/N insisted, still trying to understand what he meant by 'I'm used to it'.

Susan had compared Arthur to a criminal; someone dangerous. She judged him by his appearance. His actions. His somewhat confused way of speaking. No. This is not normal. This is not something that Arthur should just 'get used to'.

"C-Can I get you something to drink?" He asked, shifting the focus of the conversation in the blink of an eye. Just a few more words and he could feel the laughter in the back of his throat, begging to leave. And that was not what he wanted.

"But..." The actress tried again, but acknowledged it was time to stop. She showed one of her beautiful smiles and that was enough to warm the man's heart. "Water, please."

Following Arthur into the kitchen, she stood by the door, watching him. Arthur was not a bad person – and he wasn't a criminal either, as Susan thought. Y/N just wanted to have the opportunity to get to know him better. It was as if the man still has his face paint on; as if he were still Carnival and she desperately wanted to meet the man hiding behind the paint, but Y/N understood that invading his space was not the best way to achieve this.

"Oh, thanks!" She thanked him, holding the cup and drinking, as they walked back to the living room. Pointing to the magazines, she fired: "These magazines are old... Are you a collector or something?"

"Not exactly... It was a few months ago, this guy was throwing the magazines in the trash because nobody wanted to buy, but he sold it to me for half the price..." Arthur's eyes widened when he realized what he had said. He scratched the back of his neck, completely embarrassed, but the actress just started laughing.

"It's okay, Arthur. I like your sincerity." She added, finding the situation funny. "But tell me, what is your favorite?"

The man pointed to the third magazine without thinking twice. Unlike the others, this cover was focused only on Y/N's angelic face. She was holding a white rose; the petals of the flower touching her lips painted in bright red.

"You have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen in my life." He thought aloud, making her blush with his sincere words.

Y/N was constantly praised. Men and women. Different ages. Nationalities. Some were adorable, others completely depraved, but no one was able to make her feel what she was feeling right now.

Arthur was surprised at himself. This trust was not constant in his life, but close to her, it was as if he wanted to try. It was easy, because he was just telling the truth. Her smile was beautiful.

"So... what is this?" After a few minutes of silence, she asked, pointing again at the small table in the center of the living room.

"Oh, this is my journal!" The man picked up his journal and sat down next to her on the couch. "My therapist forced me to have one. I write my thoughts, some new jokes and other things..."

"I love jokes, but I need to confess that clowns are not my point."

"Don't you like clowns?" Arthur was not angry with her, in fact he thought it was funny. "How is this possible?"

"Don't judge me! It's nothing personal... I don't hate them completely, i just get a little nervous." Y/N started to laugh, being accompanied by him. When the laughter stopped, she said: "Now the million dollar question... What did you think of 'Midnight Seduction'? But you need to promise me that you will be honest with your criticism, right?"

The man shook his head in agreement.

"So I can start by saying that the ending was not as I expected, she died..." Arthur knew it was just a fictional death, but Y/N's flawless performance took that scene to another level. He was paralyzed by her talent. Y/N was definitely born to shine. Her filmography was rich.

"My Diana..." The actress spoke fondly about the character, remembering the day she read the script for the first time. Nobody was expecting this. "I like to imagine that she had a second chance. No prostitution. No drugs. Without HIV. And with someone by your side to love."

"This is a good ending, I like it... Rosalind was the only person who cared about her."

"Oh, did you notice?" Y/N asked, leaving the glass of water on the table. "I mentioned this in an interview, but the next day everyone was distorting my words!"

"It's just... love. What's wrong with that?"

"Unfortunately some people will never understand what love is."

Looking at Y/N and Arthur, it was possible to see that they were opposite poles. Their lives were completely different, but it was intriguing how they always found a connection. Time passed quickly, but they were still involved in a long conversation. Y/N loved to hear the man tell about his work as a clown – obviously he didn't mention the bad side. The actress told about NGOs, some trips around the globe and the preparation to play her characters. Each character was a new challenge and Arthur found it fascinating that she lived several lives in just one.

When the conversation followed a delicate path, Y/N considered changing this path, but she gave up and stood up, walking around the living room with a nostalgic smile growing on her lips. Arthur watched a few interviews, but hearing the actress speak directly to him about her childhood in Narrows was different. She lived in a simple house with her mother and brother. The situation was not easy, they did not have much money. Today her mother and brother are living in France, enjoying a wonderful life because of Y/N and her promising career. She missed them. She talked to them on the phone every day, but that was her best decision. Gotham has become a hostile, completely violent city, but it was in the middle of this violent city that her life changed...

"I was working at a restaurant in the downtown when Misty saw me in that hideous uniform..." Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "She said I was too pretty to clean shitty toilets, but cleaning shitty toilets was what puts money on the table at the end of the month... So she said she had an indecent proposal for me. I figured she would offer me a job at a nightclub... I probably would have accepted it. I was desperate to help my family, but she asked if i would like to be famous... A simple answer, "yes" and see how I look six years later. That horrible uniform became the most expensive designer dresses in the world, my mom has a beautiful house and everything she deserves, my little brother is having all the support for his studies and that girl with dreams turned into a famous actress, but..."

Unhappy.

Y/N completed in her mind, she was not strong enough to say that. She was also not ungrateful. Misty turned the girl's life into a fairy tale, but at the same time it took her life. In six years, she never had a break. Her manager was always bringing her a new job. The actress knew this was important for her career, but she didn't have time for anything other than work. She didn't have time to visit her own family. She was stuck.

Arthur heard someone knock on the door, but he kept his eyes on Y/N. The woman was in absolute silence and close to tears. Her smile was gone. She was suffering in front of him and he didn't know what to do to get this pain out of her.

"You should check this out." She murmured and at first he didn't react, but when the person knocked on the door again, Arthur stood up.

The actress took advantage of the moment to compose herself, trying to normalize her breathing, but when she heard that voice, her body just froze. The next minute the redhead appeared in the living room holding her Prada bag and looking at everything with an expression of disgust, but when she saw Y/N, she said:

"Mon cher, why didn't you tell me you wanted to visit your new friend? You know you don't have to lie to me."

--------------------------------------

a/n – likes and reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ♡

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gothhabiba · 4 years

Note

Wow thank you so much for bringing this up because I used to get SO mad as a kid that I couldn't "visualize" things that my mother would give me exercises where I would close my eyes and try to visualize something but I just had. Vague shapes in front of my eyes that I tried to pretend were blurry outlines but deep down I knew it just wasn't, I can't visualize for shit!! So at some point I just figured that everyone was like this and we were just describing our experience differently but now 1/2

But now you're telling me that's not the case and some people actually DO see something? I'm going to be so sad if that's the case. I used to try to explain to people that of course I knew exactly what something/someone looked like and I could draw it from memory but that didn't mean I could actually 'see' it in front of me.. i can't believe it wasn't a scam and the whole time people have been seeing and hearing things? I'm still not convinced? What is the truth

I didn’t know about any of this at all until this year, it’s interesting that you had exposure to the concept sooner! I wonder if you remember how you found out that what you were doing wasn’t “visualising” according to other people?

I understand & do feel some scepticism because it seems on some level possible that we’re describing the same experiences differently (as I can conceptualise visual objects, I know and remember on some level what they look like, & I can call up a song in real time in my head) but then people actually start describing their experiences with this and it just seems utterly foreign. the idea that anyone could consider these experiences even remotely akin to “seeing” or “hearing” or that they feel there’s a spatial dimension that visualisation occurs on makes me think that something actually different is going on than a difference in terminology or a difference in the conceptualisation of experience--& the claim that a man developed aphantasia after minor surgery, if true, would kind of clinch that imo (if one person can experience both and note a difference between these two modes of visualisation / conceptualisation). [note as a warning that the link describes aphantasia as a “problem,” which is annoying]

the linked article, though, also notes “people wondering whether the same thing applied to sound - and Mr Ross said that while he can imagine some voices, it is difficult to ‘hear’ songs and he had never had one stuck in his head”--& I definitely do get songs stuck in my head. so who knows. I’d be interested to see if this receives further study in the future

I also get feeling sadness--it feels strange to realise that other people apparently have a more vivid internal world than I do, that people can visualise the faces of those they love, &c-- but on the other hand I’m annoyed at people acting like this is innately a “problem” or “failing” or whatever. why and how can I possibly miss something I’ve never experienced? outside of just how trippy this revelation is, I don’t care too much. obviously my ability to feel love for people isn’t affected by whether or not I can call a picture of their faces to mind.

putting this in the same post to avoid spamming people--a man with aphantasia in that article says “I also find it difficult to jump from abstract thought to concrete examples, although I think a positive consequence is that I am perhaps better at thinking abstractly than many other people.” I do experience this & am habitually very annoyed by metaphors being used as explanatory or pedagogical tools and confusing me or muddying the waters when I had understood the abstract point just fine. but at this point I think we risk veering into false pattern-finding / mapping ill-fitting post-hoc explanations onto potentially unrelated phenomena

#nietp #aphantasia

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years

Text

Ghosts from the rainforest

Summary: A simple rescue mission will bring him back to a place full of nightmares, and maybe this time he could find redemption. Situated in 1975, 2 years after the events of Skull Island.

Warnings: Violence, blood, wounds, mentions of war, cursing, implied smut, smoking, angst.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 4: Jenny

There was just one village before crossing to Borneo, it had been two weeks since your little crew met Shukri and three days since you got proper rest and shelter, and some kind villagers gave you proper tents to camp the rest of the travel, however now your team had other problems.

"Slow down doc!" Mills voice was one second away from losing all patience and a little to close to throwing you out of the truck. "You are going to drown it!! Stop it!!" The other three men looking from the ground were to worried about their only transport possibly crashing against a three to make fun of you so you choose to call it a day and stop the engine for good.

"I'm so sorry" You told Glenn giving back the keys, "Maybe Reles could give it a go, or we are never making it on time, not with your hand like that" you said again looking at the man and the bandage you had put on his hand after he got burn trying to fix the motor of the truck.

"Maybe we could just rest, we can figure it out tomorrow" Conrad said remembering how close you were to die thanks to Reles driving a couple days before. You rolled your eyes at him but agreed anyway, since he didn't have that look ready to fight he tend to have every time you responded at him, it had been like that for the past two days, something about this lonely roads apparently upset him.

Once the night was upon you, and the fire was dancing happily and Slivko and Joe made sure to have something other than canned beans for dinner all the man were gathered next to it. You had tried to ask them apart about your father getting nowhere, and maybe it was time for a more direct approach.

"So tell me, how all of you guys meet? And don't say war because I won't buy it" you said putting apart the rest of the fish you were trying to eat that now you were not so sure it was edible.

"But we did Doc" Reles said still eating his fish. "At least Reg, Mills and I, we all did time In Vietnam, Captain Conrad joined later" He said pointing to the man who haven't even touch his food.

"Hey prince charming!" You called him, at this point your little nickname was not bothering any of you so you just roll with it. "How did you meet this fine gentlemen??" You asked when he finally met your gaze, but the sadness in his eyes made you shut and you changed the topic before he could answer. "Anyway, I understand you all work for Monarch now, what's that like?" You said and apparently touch a sensitive spot because the four man start looking at each other trying to communicate without speaking "I figured it must be extremely boring specially since you got to work with my father delusions isn't it?" You add receiving more elusive looks "Oh for fucks sake, I know Randa is dead, I'm not going to burst into tears for him, you can cut the crap already, what the hell happened to him?!!" You scream at them and Slivko finally look in your direction.

"Look Y/N" He started, aside from Conrad he was the only other person to call you by your name, maybe after your little sleepover in the truck or simply because you haven't stop him from doing so "How we end up working in Monarch, and how your father died are related, but is not our place to tell, god knows I wish I could forget, I'm sure Brooks will tell you when we come back" he was determined to shut the subject down, but at least he confirmed Randa was dead, a knot form in your chest when you hear it, but now was not the time.

"He was my father and I'm pretty sure Houston didn't send you to get me back to the funeral, I deserve to know what happened, I'm not some little child that you can lie to and will blindly follow you" you insisted and Conrad that had been silent the whole time finally spoke.

"You are right, all this secrecy is ridiculous and you deserved to know what are coming back to, but not here, come on let's take a walk" He said standing up and offering you a hand to stand.

"Are you sure Captain?" Reles asked, not doubting his reasoning but maybe your strength to take the information, wich hurt you a little.

"No, but she is right, come on" He start walking, and yo didn't take the hand he offered you but walked behind him closely.

He was following a path that was very clear for him, but invisible for you, and if you didn't knew better you would have said he was trying to make you lean on him to walk the jungle. After five minutes of jumping rocks and pretending you knew what you were doing and following the dim light he was carrying one of your ankles finally gave up and made you almost fall, and you were upset since he didn't try to catch you.

"Are you going to let me help you now?" He ask offering his hand again, and swallowing your pride you take it.

"Fine, but don't get ideas" you said to him rolling your eyes again.

"Don't worry I won't" He said pulling you closer to his chest without any effort and lifting you the of the way in a very humorous position, and you could feel his grin every time you uselessly complain trying to make him put you down.

"What the fuck was that?" You asked him once you were on the ground.

"You were taking forever" He said simply, and showed you a small clean area next to a creek. "We can sit here, not many vicious creatures come this way don't worry" He said sitting down and taking off his boots to put his feet in the water.

"And you know that because" You ask doubtfully

"Your father and Brooks hired me as a tracker about two years ago, and eight years before that, as I have told you I was here, I sadly didn't have a crazy secret admirer with an army to lend me a truck so I had to walk this bloody jungle on my own" He said looking at the calm water and you finally sit next to him.

"I'm glad you no longer call him my husband" you told him and he let go a chuckle before looking down again "ok, why does Randa hired you as a tracker?"

"To find something obviously, deep in the Pacific, a recently discovered Island, just a bunch of scientist and geologist" He said obviously lying.

"And the soldiers? Were the rocks that hard to measure?" You asked, and he then turn his face completely serious, he then proced to tell you a story, the most fantastic and terrifying story you ever heard, so obviously fabricated that might as well be the truth, and if so the very concept of reality you lived in was compromised, however there was one detail he neglected to reveal.

"And a handful of us, make it to the extract point back to America, and we have been working with Monarch ever since" He concluded.

"How did he died?" You asked in almost a whisper.

"What? You really have no other questions?" He asked surprised.

"Look, you said there was a 100 feet Ape, it could be a 100 feet Easter Bunny for all I care, I need to know how Randa died" you told him more decided than you actually feel.

"The skullcrawlers got him, we couldn't help him" he said after a while and you nodded silently fighting the tears that for some reason were forming in your eyes, and your mind was in the postcard he sent you two years before.

"Well, at least he prove to someone he was right, all those years, the missing birthdays, the fighting, the humiliation, and he was always right" you said and the knot in your chest was now in your throat "I changed my name so nobody will know I was his daughter and he was right all along, the daughter of the year right? And he died surrounded by strangers..." you start sobbing and he tried to hold you, you needed that but chose to put him away, because that pain right there was well deserved. "It's ok, it's stupid, why am I even crying? I haven't seen him in years, I just thought... I don't know I thought maybe one day we will be together again on my terms maybe, I always wanted him to know he was still my dad...that would never happen now right?" you said bitterly.

"He wanted that too." He said putting a hand on your shoulder and when you didn't push him apart he add "He make Brooks promise he would found you if something happened to him, that's why he send us, I'm sure he knew" he gave you a look full with compassion and you were fighting the urge to hide in his arms again so you change the subject.

"Why do we have to walk here? I mean you could have told me at the camp" you said and he took his arm off your shoulder.

"I felt the need to visit this place one more time" he said all serious again.

"It's a beautiful place, but I suspect that's not the reason, what happened?" You asked sure he was not responding but glad your heart was no longer exposed, you took your feet of the water and sited with your legs crossed facing at him.

"It was 1965," He started doing the same as you did, the flashlight was in between you two making the space intimate, almost romantic. "I took on a mission from the Malaysian government to rescue the illegitimate daughter of a Malaysian woman and a British embassy worker," He started surprising you, but you avoid making any comments so he could share his story "Her name was Jenny, she was kidnapped and held for ransom by whom we thought were rogue Indonesian soldiers, I have a team of five men, and we manage to locate Jenny and we were taking her home, however we were ambushed and Jenny and two of my men were killed, just about to reach the border" He said, and you could feel the pain in his voice, you wanted to hold him, but you fear his rejection so you only keep listening. "When I went to check the bullet wound on her head I realized it came from a sniper, Jenny, the nicest sweetest seven year old you'll ever meet was just a token to ignite the political scene at the time, nobody care if she ever came back to her mother" He covered his face and even at the weak light of the flashlight you could see the tears being held with more dignity than you. "You said when you knew I was SAS that you dislike soldiers, well so do I, they are just an excuse for rich man to send other people fight battles they are to coward to fight themselves, and do things that should be unforgivable, those guys back there, they are my family, that's all I care fighting for now" He said and you were sure he was about to continue but you couldn't take it anymore and before he connected his brain with his mind you crashed your mouth on his.

He froze for a moment, and kept his eyes wide open for a second before responding the kiss and slowly opening his mouth to make you believe you had the control to immediately switch it and having you trapped by his expert tongue and his strong hands on your neck.

"What are you doing?" He asked after a couple more seconds, but you were sure he was asking himself.

"You lost someone, so did I, we are both sad, and tired, and this fucking place is getting on my nerves, don't overthink it, this doesn't have to mean anything" You said to him trying to sound seductive, he picked you up and made you sit on his lap with both legs on his hips as all response and continued kissing you.

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