#something about being raised to a certain beauty standard and learning to love for myself instead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

terubakudan · 3 years

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This may be an old article from 3 years ago, but these cultural aspects/observations still apply even today. And though this is strictly a Chinese perspective, a lot of these everyday life bits are observed in Overseas Chinese communities in countries such as The Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, etc. as well as countries heavily influenced by Chinese culture like Taiwan, Japan, and Korea.

I've always liked learning about other cultures and making comparisons between how things are done East vs West. Which probably stems from growing up with two cultures and Mom raising me on American movies xD

So the irony is if you asked me how many Chinese, Taiwanese, or Hong Kong actors I know, chances are I know as much as you do xD Like Jackie Chan, Andy Lau, and that's about it. But if you asked me about Western (specifically American and British) actors, then I have a useless brain dump of movie trivia and who was with who in what movie xD

Hmmm, both Taiwan and the Philippines are two distinct cultures but both look up to a certain country and are fascinated by that. In Taiwan's case, Japan and the US for the Philippines. In both cases, this is due to being under the rule of those countries in their history. Taiwan being under Japan for 50 years, and the Philippines being under Spain for 300+ years, followed by periods of American and Japanese rule. To put it simply though:

Taiwan is "mini-Japan with a very Chinese culture".

The Philippines is "former colony of Spain with lots of American influences".

But unlike the author, I've never set foot in any Western country, so my understandings are strictly what I've observed in media, which while it can be accurate, doesn't compare to actually experiencing the culture.

Some further elaboration on most points:

#1 We quite literally use chopsticks for everything. We use it to pick rice, viands, vegetables, fruit, smaller desserts, almost all the food you can think of.

But where do you put your chopsticks when you're not using them? Just put them on top of your bowl or flat on your plate. But do not ever stick them vertically. It's taboo, since it looks like incense sticks, which we use to pray for those who have passed, like our ancestors or during funerary services.

#3 The majority of Asia is obsessed with fair/white skin. In my time at the Philippines, I grew up watching all these Dove Whitening commercials and my classmates often commented on how fair my skin was, how they envied it etc. In Taiwan, girls often say they don't want to 變黑 (biàn hēi) 'become dark'. Japan and Korea too are not innocent of this either (if their beauty/skin products weren't a dead giveaway).

People here at Taiwan often mistake me for being from Hong Kong or Japan (as long as I don't speak Mandarin with my heavy accent xD). A Taiwanese classmate of mine joked that she often gets mistaken for being from Southeast Asia due to having a darker complexion. And while I laughed it off with her at that time, looking back, I now realize she was lowkey being racist. xD

And believe me Filipinas have mentioned literally being told 'your skin is so dark' here in Taiwan, or being given backhanded compliments like 'you're pretty despite having dark skin' and...*facepalms*

My point is, beauty is not exclusive to skin color. People who still think that are assholes.

#5 Not to say we don't have salt and pepper, but yes soy sauce and vinegar are the classic condiments you see on the table, be it at home or at a restaurant.

And if I may add, Taiwanese love their pepper. xD If you ever get to eat at a night market or a smaller "Mom n' Pop-style" restaurant here, some dishes/soups tend to add quite an excessive amount of pepper. Not like anthills, but quite liberally and way more than average. Enough that you see traces of pepper at the bottom of the food paper bag or swirling in your soup. xD

#6 I know this all too well from personal experience. In my years of studying at Taiwan, I always had roommates. 3 in my first school (I graduated high school in the Philippines pre K-12 so I had to make up 2 years of Senior High), followed by 2 in college, with the exception of 1 in freshman year.

My college did offer single person dorms but at around 9000 NTD ($324) per month compared to around 6000 NTD ($216) per semester. Because I wanted to save, the choice was obvious for me xD. But ah, this doesn't mean I don't value personal space, in fact I love having the room to myself, and since both my roomies would go home to their families every weekend, weekends were bliss for me xD

And you don't have to be friends with your roommates (that's an added bonus however), you just have to get along with them. I was quite lucky to have really great roommates all throughout my schooling years.

#9 In the Philippines, we do. Owing mostly to American influences and maybe being predominantly Catholic? xD

#10 *sigh* Chinese parents and parents from similar Asian cultures tend to put too much emphasis on grades, so much that kids could get sent to cram school as early as elementary. This is because what school you get into could literally affect your future job opportunities, and while that's not exclusive to any particular country/culture, I feel it's especially pronounced here in Asia. I'm really lucky my own parents weren't that strict about it. However, if your parents don't point the mistakes out to you, chances are you'll do it yourself, if you're an Asian kid like me anyway. xD It just becomes a habit.

#11 My family is an exception to this. xD We do say 'I love you' directly, but complete with the 'ah eat well ok?', 'don't scrimp on food', 'sleep well' and similar indirect words/actions of affection. We were doing 'Conceal, Don't Feel' before it became popular. xD

#13 I'm kind of confused about this but this has sort have changed over the years in which eye-contact is now more encouraged. But don't stare, especially at elders and authority figures. Sometimes it's just shyness though. xD And I've observed this with my own Taiwanese friend, especially when I'm complaining or ranting to her about something. xD I'm a person who likes to express my opinions strongly, which tends to scare/alienate some of the locals here, as doing so is kind of frowned upon. Thankfully, she does listen and offers her take on things.

#14 Ah this. xD In the Philippines, this is a common greeting known as beso-beso, and I freaked out too when an auntie did that to me. xD Needless to say, Mom lectured me later on what that was. ^^"

#16 Along with #3 another crazy beauty standard. In my view, people always look better with a little meat on them and when they're not horribly thin. Asia still has a loonng way to go with accepting different types of bodies if you ask me. This combined with modern beauty standards has made the pressure for women especially to 'look beautiful' higher than ever.

I know many people love them but please, starving yourself or glorifying eating disorders is never OK just to get this kind of 'ideal' body. I'm not part of the Kpop fandom, but even I think when idols get bullied just for gaining the least bit of weight among other insensitive comments, that's really going too far.

#17 'If you want to make friends, go eat.' <- I couldn't agree more. In the Philippines we have a greeting: 'Kumain ka na ba?' (Have you eaten?) . Similarly in Taiwan, we have 吃飯了沒? (chī fàn le méi), both of these can mean that in the literal sense but are often used as greetings instead. By then which invitation to having lunch/dinner together may or may not follow. Food really is a way for us to socialize and to catch up with what's going on in each other's lives. Not to say we don't have regular outings like going out to the mall, going shopping, etc. but eating together is a huge part of our culture, be it with family or friends.

And while I'm at it, some memes that are way too accurate good to pass up xD

Parents, uncles, aunties alike will fight over the bill xD

Alternatively:

You just space out until your name is called xD

My parents are guilty of the last one. Logic how? xD

#18 True. xD I like giving compliments out to people but I have a hard time accepting them myself, though I've learnt how to accept them much more now than before. We're kind of raised to constantly downplay ourselves so we often say things like 'ah no no' or 'I'm really not that good'. The downside of this of course is that it can come off as somewhat fake. xD

Again from personal experience, that same classmate who made the lowkey racist remark, she was good, she was on the debate team, was a honor student, knew how to mingle with people, but she downplayed herself way too much, while praising me but I honestly thought that she never really meant it from how she treated me. She wanted to keep me around her yet make backhanded compliments at me and she didn't want me socializing with my other classmate who is now my friend. *sigh* It was only after discussing this with one of my roomies did I realize how this 'excessive downplaying' might come off to people like me who more or less grew up with a more 'Westernized' mindset. I'm not saying brag about your achievements but don't be overly humble about them either, which can also be a turn off.

#20 We do tend to be a lot more realistic on how we view things, neither entirely optimistic nor pessimistic. We try to think of things practically and often analyze things on pure logic. A downside of this however, is that Chinese people can be overly practical. Taiwanese for instance don't like to 'find inconveniences' and generally keep to themselves, meaning, they won't help you in your hour of need even when they do have the capabilities. Sounds really harsh I know, but in my 6 years of living in Taiwan, while this doesn't apply to all the people, a lot of them really do only find/talk to you when they need something.

So for some people saying Taiwanese are 'friendly', that's BS xD If you ask me, Filipinos are infinitely more friendly, and again while not all, generally make more of an effort to help you when you need it. I really felt more of a real sense of community during my years growing up in the Philippines compared to Taiwan.

#21 Children do tend to stay with their parents well into college and adulthood, since Chinese families are indeed very family-oriented, in a lot of cases, grandparents often live under the same roof as us as well! And it really does save a lot of money. I see there's a real stigma in the US when it comes to "living with your parents", but that's starting to change especially because of Covid and having more and more people move back in with their parents.

Housing unfortunately is pretty much hella expensive no matter where you go, and Taiwan is no exception. Steep housing prices and the very high cost of raising a child (schooling + buxiban fees, etc.) contribute to a very low birth rate and thus an aging population like Japan. It's not uncommon to see both parents working in Taiwan.

#23 I'm an overthinker myself, but I totally agree with the author that the best is to strike a good balance between these two. Which I guess is why I love drawing or any other related creative attempts, it helps me be more spontaneous or well, creative! I like to remain intellectually or artistically inspired.

#24 Is French high school really like that? xD My friend did watch SKAM France and more or less got a culture shock from what was depicted on the show. I can confirm however that most high schools both in the Philippines and Taiwan require students to wear a uniform, only in college is everybody free to wear casual/civilian clothes.

#26 Ah this is part of our Asian gift-giving etiquette xD We always open gifts later after the event/meeting and in private. Never open them in front of the person who gave it to you or in front of others. This is to prevent any 'shame/embarrassment' that may result both to yourself and to the gift giver. I know this may come off as something weird since some people may want a more honest response or immediate feedback when it comes to gift-giving, but that's just how it is in our culture. You're always free to ask us though (in private) if we liked the gift or not ^^"

#28 I want to say the same goes to drinking, partying, and drugs however xD Those are things which are still frowned upon in our culture. And to be honest, whenever I see those in movies, it does kind of turn me off xD It doesn't mean that we're "uncool" or "boring", we just think that there are much better or healthier ways of "having fun".

#31 Is this true in France?! Man I would kind of prefer that instead of people being on their phones all the time xD This kind of goes with #20 in that Chinese are overly practical or logical, and don't read fiction as much as nonfiction. My Taiwanese friend is an exception though, she's a bibliophile who loves the feel of paper books compared to e-books, and it's a trait of her that I like a lot. Both the Philippines and Taiwan however have a huge fanbase when it comes to manga and anime though.

I'm all for reading outside of "designated reading" at schools especially. Reading fiction improves your vocabulary too, and can be quite fun! It helps you imagine and really invest in a world/story, and if you ask me something that I feel Westerners are better at, they're more in touch with their emotions and creativity, and are thus much more able to write compelling or original stories. Believe me, I've seen a fair amount of Chinese movies that rip off Western movie plotlines xD

#33 Nothing much to add on here..except that since I'm a "weird" person, Mom often jokes that she got the wrong baby from the hospital. xD

#35 True. While I agree with the care and concern that your fellow community can give you, the downside of this is we tend to only hang out with our own people, e.g Chinese with Chinese, Taiwanese with Taiwanese, etc. I've seen too that it's especially hard to make friends in Japan and Korea as a foreigner. Not only is there the language barrier, but the differences in culture too. In a way, Asians can be pretty close-minded on getting to know other cultures or actually making friends with people from other countries. I know this all too well being half-Taiwanese/half-Filipino, being neither "Filipino" enough nor "Taiwanese" enough. xD It's more of people here being too used to what they're comfortable with.

#36 Oh this is something I feel that Chinese students and other students from similar cultures should really improve on. xD How will people respect you if you don't speak your mind?

I felt bad especially for my Spanish teacher in college, granted it was an introductory course (Spanish I and II) but the amount of times that our teacher had to prompt a student to recite/speak even with clear hints already made her (and me too) extremely frustrated. The thing is, these are college students, I personally feel they don't have any reason to be so shy of speaking and technically by not doing so they're slowing the pace of the class too much and a lot of time is wasted.

Unfortunately you can't always be very vocal with your thoughts and opinions in most Asian cultures. I would say strive for that, but at the same time, play your cards well, especially if you're in a workplace setting.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading and here's a cookie! 🍪 I'm not perfect and there's bound to be something I missed so please let me know if you spotted anything wrong. Feedback/questions are very much welcome and please feel free to share about your country/culture's differences or similarities!

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selfilluminatingkyu · 3 years

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Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter III

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You don’t go searching for bones in a Lion’s Den. You just hope you don’t become a part of the pile.

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters.

Warnings: Swearing; mentions of conditioning of a child (reader);

Word Count: 4.8K

After…whatever it was that had taken place with the members of the Troupe, Chrollo had placed you back into his study as he gave further instructions to the rest of the team, who you had been introduced to formally. You would have liked to say that the introduction had cooled your nerves a bit but that would have been a lie. If anything, it made you more anxious. The more you knew, the more susceptible you were to be considered a “loose end” and the likelihood of your impending death became that much more stark to you. Should you prove to be of no use to Chrollo or the rest of the Spiders, as you learned they were frequently called, your time would be clicking down on a timer.

You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened and what you had done that had proven to be so amazing that had the lot in such a tizzy. You’d spent at least an hour playing a continuous game of “hide and seek” as Nobunaga had dubbed it. Although, you weren’t entirely sure who was exactly supposed to be hiding, seeing you felt their presences the entire time. The only time you had been a little unsure was towards the end. Hisoka’s presence had wavered momentarily, as if he’d suddenly disappeared, but you’d taken in a deep breath and focused yourself only for him to pop back up again, like an object on a radar. Chrollo’s had also been faint at one moment towards the end but his aura had never truly gone away, not that you thought it was possible anyway. Not with how dark and menacing his was.

“I’m sorry for the delay, but it seems that there’s a new bounty on our heads and we didn’t collect all of the items for auction. There’s also some other matters to attend to.” You looked over your shoulder to Chrollo as he stepped back into the room. The information made you pause…you were certain that everything had been accounted for, for the first round.

His hair was messy in comparison to the slicked back style it had been earlier, and you mused that it made him look even younger and it suited him more. Looking at him you wondered how many people he’d disarmed and made comfortable with his looks and charm. In another life, he had to have been the eldest son to a very, very wealthy and powerful man.

Making a noise of agreement, you turned to look back outside. It was getting dark now. The brightest stars starting to pop up in the purple and pink hazed sky. It reminded you of all of the times you and your family went to the country side, away from the city and the light pollution, where you could look at the stars till your heart was content. More than once, you’d fallen asleep outside, wondering what other worlds were out there, what sort of people there were…if any of them ever felt like you did or were raised like you. In your head, there were other girls like you, who’d been raised the same and by some chance, you all ended up together, united and made sure it could never happen to another soul.

You were people, not property.

But that was a fantasy and this was reality and in this reality, you didn’t know when your time was up and so you’d decided that you would do whatever was necessary to be reunited with those you’d lost. You’d see your siblings again. You’d save them for your parents. You’d give them a better life, and all the unconditional love they deserved. No fear of being sold to the highest bidder in an effort for your parents to obtain something that was unlikely to act quench their thirst for more power, more money, just more.

“I don’t believe I ever actually asked you name…or how exactly it was you came to be among the items set for auction.” You jumped, so lost in thought that you hadn’t even register Chrollo. It wasn’t his voice that startled you, but the proximity of his mouth to your ear. He stood behind you, towering over you and making you feel smaller than you already did in his shadow.

“No, you didn’t. Not that anyone else did, to be frank. But it’s y/n. And I believe I briefly told you earlier how I came to be there. I’m the eldest of four and since a young age, my parents have always been complimented on how beautiful I was. I’m pretty sure from the moment I was born, they were told that they’d been blessed with a precious gem. They took it a little too seriously and decided that what other purpose was there for a gem than to buy them a bigger one? So…my parents figured to obtain more wealth, more power, more notoriety, they’d marry me off to the man or family that checked all of those boxes the most. So, they groomed me to be the perfect wife for a man of that caliber. I got all of the etiquette classes a lady of that birth ranking would get, along with ones that would place me outside of the pack. I had tutors for all of my studies and learned several languages. I was put under pressure and polished to perfection.

“At one point they were in discussions with a family, I was going to be married to their eldest son. I never met him, but I snuck into my father’s office one night and saw a photo of him and his family. While he seemed handsome enough, there was something peculiar about him that had me anxious before I’d even met him. But, while they had the money and power and notoriety…it wasn’t in the form my parents wanted. They wanted to be among those in high society, in the light where people on the street would whisper about them…not among the shadows like that family apparently was. So, my parents started again, except…no one was meeting their standards and the original family seemed to be the best offer they had…till there was someone else. I don’t know how the Don who bought me had heard of me, or how one of the others had, but he did and he was certain that he could tick all of the boxes my parents were trying to fill. So, they made a deal and suddenly I was being brought here to the auction.

“I was in a different room originally, by myself, in a suite. But the Don’s right hand man who’d been watching me prior to the auction came in flustered, talking about something going on and they moved me…which is where I was when…whatever sucked me and the rest of the items into a void happened and then I was backstage where the rest of the Troupe found me. And that’s it.” You turn to look at him and find that the look on his face has you turning around completely.

The man looks a mixture of furious rage and melancholy heartbreak…and it has you absolutely stumped as to why a man who has killed for sheer joy and amusement—as you’d realized after hearing their names and remembering the scarlet eyes—would look so pained over the story of a young woman being sold as a wife. It didn’t align with the character chart you had started creating in your head for him. No, it was just as peculiar as Hisoka looking concerned when Chrollo had ushered you away from the rest of the group, away from him.

Regardless, you stood and waited, waited for him to do or say anything so that you could gage how you were meant to react to him when suddenly he was looking at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“You do not have to worry about being sold to anyone. I’m not in the business of human trafficking.” The sincerity in his words should have calmed you, but it didn’t. You’d heard promises from other men before. Promises to run away with you; promises to marry you and give your parents what they so desired and to save you and your siblings.

But promises were made to be broken and you weren’t going to hold your breath that this man, lawless as he was, was any different than the rest.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You said stepping out of his grasp and moving out of arms reach. The moment felt far too intimate for someone you had just met, for someone who was essentially holding you captive as he’d made no mention of letting you go.

Chrollo dropped his arms and looked at you carefully, you could feel his eyes rove over you, and you wondered if he was appraising you as a woman or as a ward, either way it made your skin crawl and feel like a filly up for auction all over again.

“I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I’m sure there were people in your past who promised you things and never saw them through. Left you feeling more vulnerable and alone than you had prior to. I understand that, I have been there and been in the same place. The only family, the only true family I had was one I created by bringing together a bunch of misfits who sought to burn the world to the ground for the atrocities that we shared. We are bound by a common goal of watching the world, and the people who prosper from the neglect and despair of others, burn. While I have not been in your exact position, I can still understand where you are coming from.” You turn to look at him, eying him carefully as he continues on with his little speech. “I’ll give you two options. You can leave, right here, right now. I’ll take you wherever it is you want to go and that’ll be the end of it. If we see each other, or if you see any of the other members, we’ll act as if we have no idea who you are. However, I think there are things you want to accomplish, people you want to keep with you and as you are now, you won’t be able to accomplish those things.”

“So…what exactly are you suggesting?”

“Stay with us. Let me and the other members train you, tap into the clear raw ability you have. Earlier, the members were using a technique called zestsu. When highly capable Nen users are using this technique, their presence is nearly untraceable. However, when myself or other members of the Troupe do it, along with other high skilled hunters, we should completely disappear.” He says and the way his eyes light up as he describes this has you both intrigued but also unnerved. “You, who has no nen abilities or true knowledge, should not have been able to detect Feitain, Machi, Phink, Shalnark, or Nobunaga when you walked into the room. However, there wasn’t a single presence hidden from you. That’s not something even elite nen users can do, let alone you. And yet…you did and with seemingly no effort at all.”

You looked him over, knowing this offer was too good to be true, and what was it that he got in return out of this deal? The warning bells in your head were going off, telling you that while this deal seems to benefit you the most…you just knew that there was no way, shape, or form in which a man like him would allow any deal to benefit anyone other than himself.

So, you did the only thing you could do, ask.

“How do you benefit from this? It seems burdensome to take on a complete stranger who may have a disposition for high potential. But there’s no guarantee that my nen ability is anything other than this.”

Clearly, the man wasn’t used to his authority being question—although it wasn’t in your intention to do as such, you could see how it could be construed that way—and seemed to regard you in a new way. He was obviously amused by your honesty and total lack of trust in him and his intention. You didn’t see how he could blame you though. No honor among thieves was a saying for a reason and you very much doubted that him and his ragtag group of thieves, professionals and highly regarded in the underworld be damned, were just going to pull a 180 and do something out of the kindness of their hearts. At the end of the day, a thief was a thief and their word usually meant little. That was something you father had taught you early on. You had been too trusting as a child, wanting to see the good in everything, regardless of the bad.

“But papa, that doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” A much younger you had said innocently enough as you father had dragged you away from the group of older girls who had been trying to exploit your generosity.

“No, it doesn’t but you also need to realize that the majority of people do not have good intentions.” Crouching down in front of you, he’d grabbed on your shoulders and made you look directly into his eyes. “And those who never do, never will. Do you understand? You need to understand that you are very valuable, and to the wrong people could be a great bartering chip to be used against others. Make sure you can’t be.”

You honestly hadn’t understood exactly what he meant, but the message had stuck and several years later, you had known what he meant by it. People who proved themselves worthy of your trust could have it…but you always needed to keep it in your head that there were those who, despite proving themselves as friends, could be masked foes and you needed to have a plan in place should that occur. More often than not, you wondered if you were actually the wolf in sheep’s clothing simply masquerading as docile and inept, when really…you were probably the most calculating and tactile in the room.

“And what’s to say that you won’t use what I teach you against me, against us?” He asks, and you know he means it rhetorically, but you can’t help your biting response.

“You wouldn’t ever give me the opportunity.” Your response is lightening fast, coming out before he truly has even finished his question and you know you have truly piqued his interest now, again making you wonder how people truly viewed you. “I told you, I was raised for the sole purpose of being a formidable opponent to anyone who tried to harm by future husband…my mother was not lenient in her pursuits.”

“Indeed…that certainly is becoming clearer now.”

You’d come to an agreement with Chrollo. He, and the rest of the Troupe who wished to partake in your training, would do as such. He had already told you that his methods did not truly align with the “generally approved instruction” of other masters, but then again…when did anything he did?

But as of now, he told you to relax. Take a shower, get some food, sleep, he or one of the other members would come and find you once they’d returned back from the mission he’d sent them on. As for him, he had other things to attend to. His offer still stood, he’d said before he’d walked out the door, that should you choose that you did not want his help or that of the Troupe, he would respect it, but advised you to be gone before anyone got back or the training began. Because after that point, leaving was going to require you going through the front door and would more than likely be a battle with whomever was blocking it. Whether that be him or a different member, he didn’t specify, and you didn’t ask.

You were currently sitting in the tub; in the room he’d showed you as your own. It reminded you a lot of the room you had at the home your parents owned in the country. It overlooked a beautiful garden in the back and had windows that faced the east, so when the sun rose, you would too. There was an en-suite attached that was larger than you had ever seen before. Shower, tub, separate toil area, two sink vanity, and walk in closet to boot. You knew they had money, despite his comment that “money, power, and fame were not” what drove them to do what they did, it was clear that their endeavors were clearly not fruitless…no, not at all.

The moment you realized you were alone, you’d crawled into the tub, clothing and all and cranked the water to as warm as it would go and just sat there as the water rose. While you had a thousand thoughts zipping through your head…you couldn’t seem to latch onto one in particular, just staring at the water blankly.

You thought back to the comment he’d made when you’d walked back into the study after his little experiment. Apparently we didn’t get all of the auction items. While yes, that was true, they hadn’t gotten all of them as there were different rounds and the items showed up in waves so they wouldn’t be vulnerable to a heist—or so Yuuto had explained when you’d asked—the items for the first round had all be within the lot of goods the others had brought back. And you didn’t take Chrollo for wanting silly things like rare videos games…although it was a high ticket item.

So, all you could deduce from that was that this was a trap. A poorly set one, and one you were certain he’d already figured out but still, the members he’d sent, unless aware were walking into a trap and the Ten Dons had an artillery of their own, with weapons you were led to believe could even take on the Phantom Troupe.

Regardless of all of this information though…you couldn’t say you cared, nor did you care if you were questioned later as to whether or not there had been more items because while you didn’t think there were any, you couldn’t be certain, and it wouldn’t surprise you if there had been more. Someone didn’t become that powerful by being lax in their paranoia.

Maybe you could learn and thing or two from that mentality.

You don’t know how long you sat in the tub for. At some point the water became cold and your clothes began to rub you the wrong way. Thus, you took them off, throwing them away from your body, drained the water and stared the process over again.

Your skin was not only a pretty shade of pink and red, just about all over, but the pruning of it was beginning to feel uncomfortable not that it bothered you. It was a distraction, one you desperately needed. But it also made you think.

Made you evaluate your circumstances and try to figure out what exactly your plan of attack was going to be; what you could anticipate being Chrollo’s and the rest of the troupes’ motives and actions from here on out…and how you could use all of those pieces to your advantage. You need to uncover their weaknesses and find a way to exploit them. Maybe there was someone who knew them and you could mutually benefit each other?

“Think too hard and you might hurt yourself little dove.” Were you not as exhausted as you were, you might have jumped out of the tub when you heard Hisoka. No, instead you turned to look at him, leaning against the doorjamb leading into your room, idly shuffling through his deck of cards.

He looked at you through his lashes, coy smirk growing on his lips as he sauntered forward and again, it struck you that had you not been so exhausted, mentally, emotionally…physically, you probably would’ve jumped up or screamed at him to leave. But you simply did not have any reserved energy left to consider your modesty a priority.

You also doubted it would do you any good anyway. Hisoka didn’t strike you as the type to listen to a request like that anyway. He seemed to enjoy toying with people’s discomforts.

“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing thinking.” You mutter, turning away from him and sinking further into the water, nearly causing it splash out of the sides.

“Oh? Then what would you call it? Planning? Devising?”

“I’d call it a jumbled ball of messy thoughts that benefit me in no way.”

He hums at this, coming to sit on the floor beside the tub and you suddenly realize just how tall he is. The tub has to be at least two feet off the ground if not more, yet when he sits down, and slouches even, he’s still considerably taller than you. You would, under normal circumstances, have curled in on yourself in order to preserve your modesty. It was one thing for him to be standing in the doorway, your back to him and the hazy from the steam distorting your image in the mirror.

However, with him right here, next to you, there is nothing distorting your nakedness from his peering eyes. A nakedness that no man, outside a physician for the Dons’, has seen. But for the fact that you are too exhausted to care, you do not move to cover yourself more than your arms already had. You hadn’t realized that at some point, you’d curled back in on yourself again…maybe your subconscious was more conscious than you realized.

Despite all of this though, Hisoka turn himself so his back was towards you and in that moment you were struck by something. Most probably would’ve viewed this as trust, but you knew better. You hadn’t known this man for more than a moment. It wasn’t trust at all.

It was a silent assertion of just how weak he viewed you. How weak they all probably viewed you. For some reason this pissed you off. Rage flared low in your stomach and raced through you veins and clawed at your throat, questing to lash out at the closest target. However, your mind was quick to act and quell those feelings almost as quickly as they appeared. He was right, you were weak and lashing out at someone that much more powerful than you was not only reckless, but just plain stupid. You’d accomplish nothing on your best day as it was, not even including the fact that you were currently exhausted.

No, getting pissed off was misplaced in this situation…but it was a tangible force that could push you do work hard, to become a formidable opponent.

One in which Hisoka would never turn his back on.

As you both continued to sit there in silence, you couldn’t help but wonder if Chrollo had called him back to watch you. You thought it odd but not outlandish. You hadn’t taken Chrollo as a liar though and the offer to leave, while not something you were going to take him up on, seemed to vanish the moment Hisoka walked into the house or within a vicinity to spot you in your endeavors to vacate the premises before anyone got back.

But then you thought about what Chrollo had said. Leaving before anyone got back and scoffed, shaking your head, wondering how you could be so thoughtless.

“Something amusing little dove?” Hisoka poses, throwing another playing card towards the vanity. What he’s trying to hit, you’re not sure.

“Just realizing how inept my critical thinking skills have been lately.” His hesitation in throwing the next card relays to you his peaked curiosity, although he says nothing. “Chrollo told me I could leave should I chose to, but I had to do as such before anyone got back or prove that I was worthy of walking through the front door. At the time I thought nothing of it, assuming when he suggested I shower and sleep, that I’d have time to do those things. When you walked in, I wondered if he’d been lying but thought that odd because…I didn’t sense him lying.”

You pause and chuckle again. “No, he wasn’t lying…he just also wasn’t being entirely truthful either. He just left out the fact that you and whomever else returned with you wouldn’t be long after he left. Had I been paying attention, been thinking I would’ve caught that. I’m not entirely sure at what point I either reached such a level of exhaustion…or decided you lot were trustworthy enough to not care.”

The revelation had you looking up from your hands and the man sitting beside you. It also had you wondering what his purpose was for coming into the bathroom. You knew, now, that Chrollo hadn’t ordered him back; hadn’t given him instruction to watch you. No, Hisoka had come here of his own volition and you the question as to why was picking at your brain…and paranoia. Why would he come here? There was a piece to this puzzle that you were missing, and you couldn’t decide if it was because you just didn’t have the information or if it was again to your own obtuseness.

The thought niggled at the back of your head, running through scenario after scenario. Did he have a connection to someone you knew? Someone you had known? Was he a double agent working for the Dons and was keeping your close so that he could return you to them? No, that didn’t seem likely…but not the double agent part. You didn’t take him to follow orders from anyone; he didn’t seem like the type to play to play well with others for long.

“I’m starting to wonder if the steam is coming from the hot water or from in between your eyes little dove.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What is it you don’t understand?” He questioned, throwing another card and this time putting some force behind it as it cut into the vanity and stuck.

You were certain it was an intimidation tactic to indicate to you to tread lightly.

“Why you’re in here. I know Chrollo didn’t order you to be here, there’s no reason to place a guard on me. I’m sure he texted everyone telling them I wasn’t going anywhere, regardless of whether I’d come to that conclusion myself prior to or after he’d sent it. And I don’t take it anyone would just…wander in unwelcome. I’m sure there’s something, some presence around meant to keep those who don’t know better away…and those who do, a warning of fleeting life. And I’m not interesting enough to truly pique your interest. Maybe after I’ve spent some time learning nen and training. But as it stands, right not I’m of no consequence to you and so I don’t understand why you’re here.”

Taking in a deep breath, you realize that he’s completely stopped throwing the cards, and not because he’s out. No, he’s caused four more cards to stick to the vanity. The King of Spades, the King of Aces, the King of Diamonds, and then the Queen of Hearts are all standing up and a feeling goes through you that you can’t place. It warms you, and yet makes your blood run cold all at the same time and leaves you feeling a little lightheaded and dizzy. Maybe you’ve been in the bath for too long.

“You’re very perceptive little dove, more perceptive than anyone has realized…certainly far more intelligent than you’ve been given credit.” He stands and plucks the random card from the vanity, along with all those he scattered haphazardly on the floor but leaves the Kings and Queen. “I look forward to seeing how you ripen little dove. I’m certain that you will become…especially sweet when this is all said and done.” He chuckles lowly and in the back of his throat, the effect making you shudder, and not in a pleasant way, as he begins to leave before pausing and turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“I do have a question for you little dove.” He says and you hum, indicating that you’re listening. “What do you know of Illumi Zoldyck?”

#Dancing with the Devil(s)#fic #hunter x hunter #chrollo #chrollo fic #hisoka #hisoka fic #illumi zoldyck #illumi fic #reader insert fic

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mismaeve · 3 years

Text

♕ Burning Lights ♕

❝ Shine a light through an open door. Love and life I will divide. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTurn away 'cause I need you more. Feel the heartbeat in my mind. ❞

Chapter 14 of the Burning Lights series Pairing: Katherine Pierce x Elijah Mikaelson Warnings: None POV: Elijah _________________________________________________

“ Will you pick one? ” Elijah breathed out in light frustration, mixed with amusement. Katherine had been going through the different radio stations for the past 5 minutes, not being able to settle on one. His driving was suddenly interrupted by a rather loud combination of drums and guitar accompanied by someone screaming along the so called melody. “ Ooops, not that one, ” Katherine quickly changed the station yet again before settling down on something that resembled modern day pop. “ Thank you, ” Elijah breathed out in relief that the horrid noise was gone. He adjusted his sunglasses before weaving his hand through his hair which was flying in all directions. Katherine had insisted Elijah compel them a convertible, to be able to enjoy the sunny and warm evening, had been her exact words. Elijah had to admit, feeling the wind on his face and in his hair felt strangely liberating, made him feel more at ease. They had decided to leave Florida, after their dramatic turn of events, both of them felt the place no longer held any appeal to either of them. Katherine had then suggested to have a road trip heading west through Louisiana and Texas all the way to Mexico. She wanted to stay a couple of days at a beautiful resort before heading to Hawaii. She had pointed out that the trip would do them good, give them a chance to bond. Elijah had agreed that it did in fact sound appealing, leaving all their problems behind them, in the past, and move forward.

ㅤ

“ Oh, I like this one, ” Katherine suddenly exclaimed, practically dropping her magazine and startling Elijah. Her hand went to turn up the volume. “ Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago, ” she was mumbling along the lyrics, causing Elijah to peek over at her with a raised eyebrow. “ You found me, you found me, ” she continued as she was bobbing her head along the music. “ What is this song? ” he tried to ask her but she simply ignored him and continued to sing along the song that was currently playing on their radio. “ And he’s long gone, when he’s next to me, ” Katherine sang before turning up the volume yet again, filling his ears with what people nowadays referred to as music. “ ‘Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in, ” Katherine continued and Elijah couldn’t help but chuckle hearing her sing louder and louder, moving in her seat along the beat. “ Flew me to places I’d never been, ” she continued rather vigorously, at times turning towards him as if she was singing about him. A light laughter escaped Elijah’s lips, watching her like this brought joy to his heart, she seemed so carefree and blissful. “ OH, OH, trouble, trouble, trouble, ” Katherine continued to entertain him with her dance moves and vocal range. “ Am I supposed to be this trouble you are singing about? ” Elijah asked loudly wanting to be heard over the loud music. “ Oh, darling, we’re both trouble, ” she remarked quickly before continuing to grace him with her singing. “ I’d say you’re more trouble than I could ever possibly hope to be, ” Elijah teased her with a gentle smirk on his lips. “ And don’t you ever forget that, ” Katherine smirked back at him and he saw her wink at him through her sunglasses. Another heartfelt laughter left his lips as he thought to himself that he couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this relaxed and at ease. He had to give credit where credit was due, it was all Katherine. He had stopped fighting her influence and instead had decided to go along with her impulses. “ TROUBLE, TROUBLE, TROUBLE, ” Elijah joined in, singing at the top of his lungs as best he could. Katherine threw her head back in a laughter that was so pure and true, Elijah could feel it touch his soul. If happiness, true happiness and carefreeness could ever manifest itself, it would be this very moment.

ㅤ

A couple of hours later they had arrived at a motel to spend the night, even though Elijah had tried to convince her that they could just as easily keep on heading west towards Texas, but Katherine wouldn’t hear it. Naturally, he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to sleep in the car, so they settled on finding a remote motel. “ I realise this is below any standards, but we are only staying here for the night, ” he tried to reason with a more or less disgruntled Katherine. “ But New Orleans is nowhere near here, Elijah, ” Katherine complained as she let herself fall on top of the bed. “ It’s best we maintain a low profile, ” Elijah pointed out as he locked the door behind them, before placing their bags on the other bed. In truth, he had been more than happy to continue driving day and night if that meant leaving Louisiana behind them. He didn’t want to risk anyone taking notice of them. The last person Elijah wanted to know about Katherine’s condition was his brother Niklaus. There was no telling what he might do if he learned of Katherine becoming human. “ You don’t need to lecture me on how to evade Klaus, ” Katherine nipped at him with a dissatisfied tone, “ If anyone was ever an expert of dodging your homicidal brother, it’s me, ” she finished as she sat up some, leaning back on her hands. “ Tired, are we? ” Elijah asked her with a raised eyebrow, a playful smirk making it’s way across his lips. There was no doubt that Katherine was spoiled and entitled, so he understood her misgivings about their current accommodations, yet he wanted to brighten her mood nonetheless. “ Is it that obvious? ” she asked him with a raised eyebrow, Elijah noticed her trying to remain serious and irritated, but the playful spark in her eyes suggested otherwise. “ I’ve noticed you get a certain way when you’re tired, ” he teased her playfully. “ Have you now? ” she tilted her head to the side, watching him with her doe-like eyes, a hint of a smirk taking it’s place on her lips. “ I pay attention, ” he told her as he unzipped their bag and fished out their bag of toiletries. “ Aren’t you perceptive, ” Katherine mused, the tease in her voice evident. “ More than you know, ” Elijah replied as he continue to unpack their bag. He glanced over at her after a moment only to see her watching him with amusement on her face and a devious smirk playing on her lips. He would be a fool if he tried to convince himself that he didn’t enjoy the playful manner in which they sparred with one another. Katherine seemed to enjoy him participating in her games as well. “ Now how about that sleep? ” he asked her with a raised eyebrow.

ㅤ

Elijah’s eyes were closed as he tried his best to quiet his mind. To say that he had a lot on his mind would be a grand understatement. During their waking hours, he seemed to be able to push his troubles aside, yet whenever night came, and silence filled the space between them, his thoughts would get a hold of him and keep him hostage. Whenever his thoughts proved to be too much for him to bear, he’d find himself listening to her heartbeat. He had come to appreciate it as his own personal lullaby. “ Elijah? ” he heard Katherine whisper his name quietly. He turned his head in the direction of her bed. “ Yes, love? ” he replied quietly, his thoughts focusing on her again. “ I can’t sleep, ” she said with a sigh and he saw her move on her side to face him, her arm tucked neatly under her head. “ That makes it two of us, ” he observed softly, his voice quiet. “ Tell me something good, ” she said after a brief moment of silence. Elijah smiled to himself. “ I’m not sure if it’s the kind of good you are yearning for, but I can tell you something true, ” he said after a while. “ Tell me, ” she replied softly, moving some to get more comfortable he supposed. “ Going to bed has, as of late, become a ritual I’m not particularly fond of, ” he said with his eyes fixated on her, “ so in order to escape my own darkness, I listen for your heartbeat, ” he continued to muse quietly, “ it’s become this beacon of light and serenity, ” he paused then, debating whether or not he should continue. “ Coincidentally, your heartbeat was the first thing I listened for when I found you at the high school in Mystic Falls, ” he confided in her then, “ it was music to my ears then and now, ” he paused again, trying to find the right words to make it sound right, “ it’s become this soothing melody in the midst of all this despair, ” he finished quietly. “ Have you ever considered becoming a poet? ” Katherine asked after a moment of silence. As Elijah found himself struggling to answer that, he heard her chuckle under her breath. A smile appeared on his lips then. “ A bleeding poet, is that what your heart desires? ” he asked her then, and saw an amused smile spread across her beautiful features. “ You’d be good, you have that tortured soul vibe nailed down to perfection, ” she teased him innocently. “ I suppose I should find myself a muse then, ” Elijah teased her back. “ Ouch, ” he heard her say and saw her move her lips into a pout which made Elijah chuckle lightly. “ Thank you, ” she said after a while, the tease from her voice gone. She was being sincere now and Elijah knew she was thanking him for what he had told her earlier. Something told him that she appreciated him baring his soul to her like that. “ Of course, ” he replied softly. Elijah saw her close her eyes then, he watched her for a little while before closing his eyes as well. He felt himself slowly begin to drift as he listened to the soft beating of her heart.

ㅤㅤ

Elijah had decided they were going to have to stop somewhere for breakfast seeing how the food they had at the motel consisted of whatever you wanted to pick out from a wending machine selection. He knew only all too well that Katherine would rather starve than put that poison into her body. Having decided to only get them coffee for now, he was on his way back to their room. “ I got us whatever passes for coffee here, ” he said as he entered their room, his brow furrowing some as he didn’t see any sign of Katherine. “ Katherine? ” he called her name but no one answered. He paused to listen for her but to no use. She wasn’t here. His eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for a note she might have left him. Nothing. He set aside the coffee he had in his hand, and quickly fished out his cellphone from his trousers’ pocket. His finger touched where her name was on the screen of his cellphone and pressed it to his ear. A soft buzzing noise came from the other side of the room. He flashed to her bed in an instant, looking through the sheets, seeing the screen of her cellphone light up with his name on it. As Elijah stared at the white screen with his name on, he could feel the colour drain from his face. ㅤ _________________________________________________

#kalijah #kalijah au #kalijah fanfiction #kalijah fic #katherine x elijah #elijah x katherine #katherine pierce #elijah mikaelson #katerina petrova #tvd #the vampire diaries #burning lights

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Note

Can’t wait for the next update of loving you is a losing game :)

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter five

hola. it’s been a few weeks... n e ways, i have given up on updating this book weekly, because its hard man, but don’t worry, this book isn’t over.

jo finally gets her name in this chapter! is it cheesy? yes. is it a bit immature? yes. but so am i. we all know her as jo, not brooke, so i feel like it’s important that i write her as jo and not someone we never met.

okay, hope you guys enjoy this chapter! ♥︎ click here to read on ao3.

~*~

"silence ringing inside my head. please carry me, carry me, carry me home"

~*~

the first time... it was the alcohol.

the second time... it was a choice.

the third time...

the third time was a habit.

it was the last night of the medical conference and the two lay in alex's big bed together, him running his fingers through her hair and untangling the knots delicately, making sure not to tug on the strands. she was drawing shapes on his bare chest, studying the way it would flex unconsciously as she ran over certain spots with the tip of her finger.

she had her head nestled on his bicep, while his was leaned back against an overly fluffy cased pillow.

through their nights together they'd grown close, forming a... bond of sorts. he somehow opened up to her about his past and so did she, and ever since then they saw each other in a new light. it was like they could relate to each other on a more personal level.

they knew that their 'relationship' had progressed quickly, they knew, but they supposed they had already crossed enough lines. talking with each other was just so easy.

it also made conversation flow a lot easier. after yesterday, they both mutually agreed that if they were going to be adulterous whores together, then they needed to know more about each other than their names and what makes the other person moan it.

like now, for example.

"mmm, middle name?" brooke asks him, causing the man to scoff.

his face squirms up as he answers her, "michael." he says with disgust. it wasn't the worst name in the world, but really? michael? of all the middle names he had to get stuck with michael?

"that's not bad." she says, placing a small kiss on the side of his chest. "nothing is worse than my middle name."

the response seems to make alex perk up, a mischievous smirk she had gotten to know all too well the last three days playing on his lips. "what's your's?"

she shudders at the thought, pretending to gag. "josephine."

alex begins to laugh loudly, brooke slapping him in the chest in the process. "jerk!" she shrieks, not being able to hide her own grin.

his laughing dials down fairly quickly, taking a good look at her. "josephine...jo." he mutters.

she raises a quizzical brow, trying to figure out why he had just shortened her middle name, "huh?" she asks, her nose scrunching up.

"you look like a jo. not a josephine, but a jo." he says, making her tilt her head to the side.

"are you saying i don't look like a brooke?"she questions, making him nod his head furiously.

"yes."

she smiles at him, a glimmer of playfulness shimmering in her eyes. "well then, call me jo." she whispers.

alex looks a bit taken aback by her answer, "what?"

she shrugs her shoulders, "call me jo then." once she realizes alex doesn't really get where she's coming from, she explains. "my husband calls me brooke. you can call me jo as like... i don't know, a nick name?" she felt guilty in a way, that alex moaned her name, brooke, much like paul did. it was wrong, to have her ...whatever alex was, say her name in the same way her husband did.

alex looks uncertain by her answer. he gave a girl a name once before and look where that got him. "it's not that weird. my friend's name is ruth but we call her emily because that's her middle name. the only people who actually call her ruth are her parents and family members." she says.

alex scrunches up his face, "well i don't blame her. her name is ruth. your name's nice, i just... don't see you as a brooke."

"my point." she sits up looking into his eyes, which shined with seriousness, yet playfulness. "it's literally exactly like a nick name. so, just call me what seems more natural, jo or brooke."

alex doesn't look fully convinced. "the last time i gave someone a name she ended up having a hysterical pregnancy and tried to kill herself in my friend's kitchen. not to mention she peed all over my friend's couch."

he was expecting the girl to look terrified, but instead she bursts into a loud fit of laughter, clutching her stomach as she bends over, wrapping the blanket around her middle as she does so. he eventually ends up joining her, finding it so easy to laugh and be himself around the woman he had only known for a mere three days.

"jesus," she smiles, making his heart beat a little bit faster at the sight. "well, i can guarantee you that i wont't have a hysterical pregnancy, try to kill myself, or pee on your friend's couch. i'm pretty freakin amazing if you ask me." she giggles, twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger dramatically.

he grins slyly, sitting up from his previous laid down position, taking a hold of her by the waist and bringing her back down with him, the woman letting out a joyful squeal, "i'll say," he smirks, bringing her into another kiss, making her moan at the unexpected contact.

the kiss wasn't very long, it was short and gentle, almost as it was a habit they had been doing for so long. it had only been three days, yet they had already seemed to know everything about each other. physically, that is.

he knew that kissing the little beauty marks she had on each side of her pelvic bone drove her absolutely crazy. she knew that his sweet spot was a crevice on the right side of his neck, about a half of an inch down from his ear and closer to the back of his neck than the side of it.

there was an area he discovered which had been able to calm her down almost immediately. it was about an inch up from where her hair began at the nape of her neck. he learned that if he soothed over that part with his thumb he could help her fall asleep or get in control of her breathing quicker.

she learned that rubbing a thumb by his ear was an easy way for him to get immediately calm, which she usually did while they charged in between rounds of hot, sweaty sex.

it was so wrong, so unconstitutional that they could say they knew other's bodies so well. he could tell you how many beauty marks she had on her back (fifteen) and she could tell you that running a single fingernail down the right side of his spine drove him insane.

like i said, it was so wrong how much they had gotten to know each other in a matter of three days.

but learning about each other seemed so easy, so casual, so stress free. there was something special about the two of them, other than the out of this world sex they had. they seemingly got one another without trying, like they understood each other's pain. which, in a way they did. they knew what it was like to be bumped around homes, never receiving love from anyone. they knew what it was like to fight like hell for something and not get anything in return. they'd never quite met someone who was so similar, yet so different from them.

he looks into her eyes once more, beginning to crack the smallest of a smile, "are you sure you want me to call you jo?" he asks.

"yep." she chirps. "i did go through a whole hating-my-name phase for like, the last year and a half of high school and had everyone call me jo, so a couple of old friends i talk to every now and then still call me it." she whispers as she begins to kiss down his neck, alex groaning at the contact.

he chuckles softly, gently taking her chin a making her eyes meet his. "you are full of surprises aren't you." he whispers against her lips. she purposefully ignores that way her heart beats faster in her chest, tingles shooting through her body as she hears his husky voice speak so delicately.

"just trying to keep you on your toes..." she trails off, feeling the way he grins against their lips, pulling her into another searing kiss.

"fine... jo."

and i suppose, that's how she became jo.

____

an alarm clock rang out, breaking the two from their deep sleep. they woke up the same way they did three days ago, a mess of tangled limbs and small unconscious smiles. alex groans as he rubs his hands over his eyes, the previous dim moonlight from a few hours before already having faded into a bright yellow as it pours through the windows.

the way they fit in each other's arms so perfectly was something neither of them had expected. the way how three days ago, they woke up so confused and uneasy, but now? three days later? nothing seemed more right than to wake up in the arms of one another.

what they were doing was what most would deem a disgrace. a disgrace to marriage. a disgrace to vows. a disgrace to themselves. but honestly, it was hard to see what they were doing as a disgrace, no matter how much they knew it was. how could they when it felt so right?

but today, it would end.

today, he would get on a plane and go back home to seattle. he would go home, back to his wife.

she would get on a short train ride back to her home, a large house not far from the university where her husband taught at. not too far from where the university she attended was. located she would go home, back to her husband.

the little bubble they were in would pop. it was inevitable. the rooms they shared and enjoyed one another in would just become a standard hotel room, used by countless other people doing similar things to what they had done.

nobody would know about the vows they broke. nobody would know about their adulterous ways. nobody would know anything. it was a secret. a secret they would carry to their grave. a secret they swore themselves to. they were married. they wouldn't screw themselves out of what they had, the one good thing that they considered good in their life. they were married to people they loved.

it was their secret. a dirty secret, yes. but a secret nonetheless.

it was sex. their secret was sex. hot, sweaty, passionate, mind-blowing, sex. but still. it was only sex.

and late night talks.

and ordering beer and room service at any hour of the day.

and endless teasing and mocking until one of them had tears streaming down their face from laughing too hard.

it was a friendship.

was that the word maybe? but sleeping with a friend? that was more like friends with benefits. whatever. they just... lost themselves a bit.

he was in a whatever place. she was in a whatever place. they were two whatever placers seeking and longing for each other. someone to get them, to understand them. and they did.

whatever.

they would keep this secret. it wouldn't happen again.

"what time is it?" he asks, his voice barely audible since his face was smushed into her bare shoulder.

she lets out a yawn, eyes blinking open to look at the clock, having to readjust her vision more times than she'd like to count. she mutters something incomprehensible, causing her to feel his face twist into some sort of gesture into her shoulder blades. "what?"

"nine thirty eight."

alex groans loudly, obviously not happy at the fact that he would need to get up soon. instead of doing what he was supposed to -start packing up his stuff- he beings placing tiny kisses on her neck, making her squirm.

she lets out a giggle (where the hell did that come from? she never giggled), a small smile gracing her lips as she feels his lips make contact with her neck again and again and again. she thinks maybe it's harmless at first, but quickly realizes it wasn't when he begins to kiss harder on the spot he discovered that first night.

a deep sigh escapes her, biting her bottom lip harshly to stop her from making any more noise. she swears, she never knew that that spot even existed until he found it.

quickly getting fed up with the teasing (she had no self control around him, don't judge her) she turns around to face him and smashes her lips onto his, feeling the smirk that had begun to form at the sudden contact.

"stop that."

"stop what?" he asks, feigning innocence as he begins pressing another kiss to her lips.

"stop smirking." asshole.

"but it's what i do." he replied smoothly, making her let out a low chuckle.

she pulls away from him, making his face contort into one of displeasure. tease.

his breath fans over her lips, goosebumps spreading all over her body as he rests his forehead against her's. "you have a flight to catch soon." she states, alex letting out a dissatisfied groan.

he flops back against the pillows dramatically, the white comforter flying up around him as he does so. he squints his eyes shut, realizing how that he was directly staring into a sun's ray. he shuts his eyes tightly, trying to ignore the yellow he still seemed to see. "i don't wanna." he pouts, reminding her of a little boy who was told he had to go to school, no matter how much he begged not to.

she cracks a small smile, trying to contain it as quickly as it appeared. he seemed to make her do that a lot, smiling that is. she couldn't remember the last time she smiled so wide or laughed as hard as she had this past weekend. "mmm, i bet." she clicks her tongue, pulling him up from his lied down position by his arm with a moan of protest coming from alex. "but... doctor robbins will probably kill you if you're any more than a second late. plus you have your... you know..." she trails off, their cheerful, joyous mood tumbling down in an instant.

so much for that.

"yeah," he says softly, so softly she doesn't even know if he knew she heard it. but him, he wasn't sure if his words were meant for her or himself.

he did have a wife to get home to. and yes, he did miss her. a lot actually. he missed her laugh and her smile. he missed her bubbly voice of excitement when she realized things were getting easier and easier for her to do. he missed that. he missed her.

but the way he felt with b- jo was something else. it was this... burning passion. this, intense hunger, this need for her. it was like hearing her moan his name and feeling her highest point of pleasure run over her made him feel something. a fire of his own. a special blaze to his skin. an increase to his heart rate. it was practically better than his own release.

god, when he was with her he felt everything.

he loved izzie. more than life itself. but jo, jo made him feel something he never thought was possible. he thought couples were exaggerating when they would say that they couldn't keep their hands of each other. he thought it was a joke when people talk about lust burning from the pits of their stomach. because sure, he'd definitely seen a girl, wanted a girl, took a girl home and did the whole she-bang, and he supposed that was an act of lust. but this was different. she was different. he hated when her lips weren't on his. actually hated it. all he wanted was to kiss her. again and again and again. he felt sparks fly out of him every time their lips connected, a weird feeling he didn't quite know how to describe. he loved how she tasted. she was intoxicating. it was like she just pulled him in.

she loved her husband. a lot. he was kind and charming and funny. he treated her with gifts and luxuries, no matter how many times she insisted on it otherwise. he was as smart as a whip, which came in handy for when he would help her study. she missed him.

but the way alex made her feel was... extraordinary. she thought that it was all a myth, a made up fairytale in books and movies. meeting the person that makes your skin turn into flames, the person that sends pleasureful shivers down your spine just by the sound of their voice. well, it turns out it was real. really fucking real. all she wanted to do was kiss him and feel him. she wanted to feel the way his muscles contracted when her hand ran down his chest. she wanted to feel everything.

and god, they both knew it was wrong to feel so passionately about someone who they weren't married to. they knew it, and the guilt about it was eating them up from the inside out. they were better people than this. but they tried so hard to stop. they tried so hard to resist one another, but they eventually lost.

lust was a cruel emotion to play with. no wonder it was considered one of the seven deadly sins. it was a cruel monster that disguised itself in the throes of pleasure.

alex pulls her in for another kiss knowing that if he did they would probably end up together one more time.

and so they did. their bare bodies flushed against one another, her curves sculpting perfectly into him as their hands roamed the other's bodies. nails grazed their skin as they danced a dance they had nearly perfected by now. there were gasps and moans and groans. they were taking advantage of the time they had left. it was hot and dirty at some points, and slow and sensual at others. he would kiss up her leg and her side until he met her face, which was usually hot and burning red from trying to keep composure of herself.

their hands worked miracles on the other, making them grip onto things in an attempt to make sure they didn't completely lose themselves when the passion got to be too much.

what a beautiful ending to something the world would deem so ugly.

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unfolded73 · 4 years

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Practice Makes Perfect (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Patrick isn't naturally good at dirty talk, but he's a persistent guy. He works at it. From a prompt by @januarium. 1710 words, rated E. (ao3)

__________________________

Patrick was never good at dirty talk.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. At first he had no idea if he was good at dirty talk because he’d never tried it, because he’d never been inspired to say anything during sex. He had been too busy concentrating on not doing it wrong, on satisfying his partner, on trying to come, to throw off the balance by saying words. And Rachel hadn’t been prone to saying much during sex either, other than the usual gasps of “oh god” and “Patrick, yes” and a few times when she was particularly into it, “harder.”

And that all had seemed fine. It had seemed normal. He hadn’t taken Rachel’s “harder” as anything other than a directive he needed to obey; it hadn’t made him feel any particular way. It wasn’t a turn off, but neither was it a turn on.

Which was why Patrick was shocked by the intense bolt of lust he experienced the first time David, pressed against him in the stock room, put his lips against Patrick’s ear and whispered, “I want to suck you until you come down my throat.”

“Yes” was all he could say in response to that, David’s thigh pressed between his legs, and Patrick couldn’t help but grind against him, senseless with desire.

In those early days, he let David do most of the talking in bed. Talking about sex seemed to come so naturally to David, whether it was matter-of-fact discussions about safety or check-ins to make sure Patrick was okay with what they were doing or just plain dirty talk. Unbelievably hot dirty talk. “You look so sexy like that, touching your cock, making yourself feel good” after David asked him if he would masturbate so that David could watch. “Yeah, come on, fuck me, come all over me” as Patrick pushed his cock between David’s thighs, everything slick and perfect. “God, Patrick, you want it so bad. You can’t wait to get your cock inside me. Can’t wait to fill me up” as Patrick worked David open that first time. David couldn’t shut up in bed, and Patrick adored it. He adored letting those words wash over him, making everything they were doing hotter.

Eventually, though, he started to feel guilty that all he ever said in return was “oh god” and “David, yes”. He worried that he wasn’t enough for David in bed, and that David might get bored with him. Not that David had given any indication of that, but it didn’t stop Patrick from worrying about it.

So he would practice, he thought. That was how he’d always mastered a new skill, like throwing a baseball or playing the guitar. He practiced.

He tried saying the words out loud to himself in his bedroom one evening. Sitting on the bed, thinking of David, his cock half-hard in his jeans, he said “I want to suck you” to the empty room, pressing against his growing erection with the heel of his hand.

“Patrick,” Ray called, and Patrick had just enough time to jerk his hand away before Ray opened the door and walked in. “Did you say something?”

Patrick scowled. “Just talking to myself, Ray.”

So rehearsing in his room while Ray was home and awake wasn’t an option. And the other problem was, he soon realized, he’d been right the first time: he really wasn’t naturally good at dirty talk. And bad dirty talk risked knocking the train right off the tracks.

“Fuck, David, I just want to eat you,” he said after scraping his teeth against the point of David’s hip bone, and then immediately winced as David lifted his head from the bed and looked down at Patrick, a bemused expression on his face.

“Like, eat me out? Because I’d need to shower.” He glanced toward the door, and Patrick could see him calculating the odds of running into Ray in the hallway at this time of night.

Patrick’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. “I mean, sure, if you want, but I meant more in a… general sense?”

That didn’t help. David was grimacing now. “In a general sense?”

“Never mind, David. I was trying something, and it clearly didn’t work.” David raised an eyebrow. “Like I meant I want to… consume you, sort of. Metaphorically.” He huffed. “I think we can agree that if you have to explain dirty talk, it’s failed.”

David gave him a sympathetic smile, which really didn’t make him feel any better. “Come here and kiss me,” David said, which Patrick suspected he was doing to shut Patrick up before he said anything else awkward and unsexy. But Patrick kissed him, and after a minute they were both into it again, the ‘eat you’ incident forgotten.

Patrick decided his error had been to stray from the standard dirty talk playbook. So for a while, he stuck with the classics. “Suck my cock” and “I want to fuck you” and “that’s so hot, David.” Nothing too risky. Nothing that made him sound like a weirdo. He could think it through, make sure the words made sense in his head before they came out of his mouth.

Then he bottomed for David for the first time.

David was gentle and talkative through all the preparation, even though Patrick was familiar with being on the other side of the process. It wasn’t dirty talk, exactly; at least, that wasn’t the way David intended it. His intent was just to make certain Patrick was aware of what he was doing: “I’m getting more lube, getting you good and slick,” David said. And, “two fingers now — tell me if it doesn’t feel good, okay?” He wasn’t narrating his actions to be sexy, but it was. It was sexy. Patrick’s control was in shreds at how sexy it was.

Then David curled his fingers and pressed up hard and the sensation was so intense that it was like words were being punched out of his gut. “Fuck, David, I need you to fuck me. Please. I need it. I need you inside me.”

David gasped, his breathing fast. “I… yeah. Okay. Yeah. Yes.”

Patrick regained a little bit of control while David was rolling on a condom and entering him — he was concentrating on relaxing, on the way David ran his hands in soothing strokes along his thighs, on not feeling ridiculous about the position he was in, his ass elevated on a pillow and his ankle resting on David’s shoulder. It was new, and a little bit scary, and Patrick breathed deep and looked into David’s eyes, his burning gaze impossibly intimate in the dim light.

Holding still and buried deep inside him, David turned his head and pressed a kiss against the muscle of Patrick’s calf. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Patrick said, because he was. “I’m good. You can move.”

David’s first thrusts were shallow and careful, but they still lit Patrick up from the inside out, sparks shooting up his spine and out through his fingers and toes. “Fuck,” he groaned. “That’s so good, David. You’re fucking me so good.”

“Yeah?” David breathed. “You like it?” He leaned forward, and Patrick’s leg slipped off of his shoulder. Patrick adjusted, putting his legs around David, heels pressing into the small of his back while David fucked him a little harder.

The sensations intensified, the angle giving him more of that impossibly good pressure against his prostate. Patrick groaned. “I like it so much,” he blurted out. “I love your cock. It’s perfect. Your cock is perfect. I love the way it feels inside me. I love the way you fuck me with it.”

“Fuck, Patrick. Yes,” David moaned, moving faster, fucking him harder. “God, you feel so good. I’m not gonna last.”

Patrick took the hint and reached between them, jacking himself in time with David’s thrusts. “Yes, David. I want you to come in me. Let me see you. Let me hear you. God, just like that. Fuck me until you come.” And then the part of his brain that made words seemed to go offline, and the noises he was making with every thrust weren’t pretty, but he couldn’t help but make them, every noise punched out of him by David’s thrusts. He’d never felt like this before. He’d never felt pleasure so intense. He crested, dimly aware of the fact that he was coming between them, all over their chests, before David joined him, his orgasm contorting his beautiful face as he rode it out and then stilled inside Patrick.

After they’d cleaned up and gotten back into bed, Patrick reached for David, curling into him, feeling a little bit desperate for more of his touch. David trailed fingers up and down the knobs of Patrick’s spine, gentle and soothing.

“So, you liked that,” David said.

Patrick chuckled. “What was your first clue?”

“It made you very talkative.”

Patrick honestly didn’t remember anything he’d said. He winced, worried that he’d said something weird or off-putting. “Sorry.”

David reared back so that he could look Patrick in the eye. “Are you kidding? It was hot.”

Patrick blushed. “It was?”

Pressing his lips against Patrick’s, David hummed. “So hot.”

“Well. That’s good.” He wished he could remember what he’d said so that he could replicate it.

“What I’m learning is that you need to get fucked in order to say such hot things to me in bed. So I’m going to want to do that again.” David kissed him again. “A lot. If… if you liked it. And want to.”

Patrick pressed several quick kisses to David’s mouth. “I liked it so much.” He paused, taking a moment to be aware of his body. He wasn’t sore, exactly, but he could definitely feel it, what David had done to him. He felt like he’d been fucked in the ass, no question about that. He realized he liked it, feeling that way. “I’m going to want you to fuck me all the time now,” he whispered, and then winced, wondering if that was a weird thing to say.

David whimpered. “Okay, you can’t say things that hot so soon after sex. It confuses my dick.”

Grinning, Patrick settled into David’s arms, letting his eyes drift closed.

#schitt's creek ff #schitt's creek fic #david x patrick #david x patrick fic #david x patrick ff #my fic

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eldritchamy · 3 years

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I’m gonna be playing my first D&D campaign soon!

It’s gonna be my first roleplay experience, and it’s gonna be a wild one. We’re playing in the Ravnica campaign setting (which I knew nothing about, but it’s like an endless city plane from the Magic The Gathering universe, sort of like D&D on Coruscant).

And let me tell y’all, I have come up with a really interesting character that I’m very happy with.

The premise: we’ve been recruited to a special organization called the Emerald Magistrates that act as arbiters to inter-guild conflict (Ravnica has 10 Guilds that are in a constant power struggle with each other; all have vital functions to the city, but all of them ultimately plan on dominating the others and ruling Ravnica). It’s our job to settle disputes, peacefully if possible, and try to keep the guild conflicts from causing mayhem.

The party:

A Selesnya Conclave (harmony with nature) Paladin named Gabby who became disillusioned with the injustices of the church and lost her faith. She now seeks to do good whenever she can, but follows no god.

An Izzet League (technomagic engineering) mad scientist Kalashtar Artificer (modified to use Charisma as her casting stat) named Mevraki, who is probably more mad than scientist, and works for a Warforged named Adam Salvage

An Aasimar Cult of Rakdos (murderfuck devil clown orgy guild) Bard named Turala. She plays a keytar and the courier who delivered her Magistrates recruitment spent the whole time staring at her chest.

An absolute dumb as rocks klutzy Firbolg Ranger named Candle, who defies the standard array starting stats by having some kind of curse or permanent concussion that lowers her Intelligence and raises her Charisma. We’ve preemptively decided that she will be a cowgirl himbo and we all love her. She was sent on an impossible quest as a soft exile when she accidentally set a sacred tree on fire. She may have joined the anarchist druids (Gruul Clans) by accident instead of Selesnya.

My character, a Tiefling Sorcerer-turned-Warlock named Ash Rose

I’ll be playing a “Bloodline of Erinyes” Tiefling (which I homebrewed myself). Her mother was a Monadic Deva, whose brief relationship with a succubus (and subsequent questioning of the gods) abruptly ended with her being cast out of Elysium and falling to the sixth plane of hell and being burned into an Erinyes. She meets another Erinyes there who helps her carry and raise a little Tiefling baby before planeshifting them both to the Prime Material plane.

Ash grows up in the wilds with her mother, near a druid settlement but hiding from it. As a child, Ash starts sneaking out to play with a winged tiefling from the village named Aria Vernus. They are each other’s first and oldest friends.

One day Ash’s mother doesn’t come back from a supply run to the city. The druids can’t or won’t help, and Ash and Aria, now teens, make a plan to go alone, and run away together.

They end up joining Selesnya because it’s the most logical place for them to end up, having grown up in the woods. Aria becomes a Moon druid. Ash starts to make a living as a leatherworker, building relationships with merchants and trading favors and information with them in the hope of learning what happened to her mother. Her special bloodline lets her conceal certain features to blend in (the way an Erinyes or a Succubus can make themselves appear to be an attractive mortal rather than a fiend; she can hide her horns, tail, and wings (which can be either angel or devil wings) as a bonus action, but she is not considered a true shapeshifter and can’t truly DISGUISE herself that way, only blend in among people who don’t recognize her face).

Ash also has some innate magical talents as a level 1 Psychic Soul Sorcerer (who thereafter will go Warlock, Pact of the Chain + Genie Patron). Her charismatic approach to gathering information catches the notice of a stranger who recruits her to House Dimir, the secretive spy guild that most of Ravnica either doesn’t know about or believes is merely a deranged conspiracy theory. She becomes an information broker for Dimir, and forms a close mentor relationship with her handler.

Ash and Aria make a comfortable little life together and inevitably end up VERY happily married. Ash cashes in some favors to commission a well-crafted ring of brown metallic stone affixed with bits of green glass that look like moss, designed to look like the ring was druidcrafted. But Aria proposes at nearly the same moment, with a ring of black, speckled opal that resembles something like the milky way or a nebula. In Aria’s words, it’s because Ash in the moonlight is the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

They have a little home together where their two cats (one a blue-green glowing skeleton and the other a cat-shaped clump of animated moss) just had a littler of kittens that almost look normal, except they sprout mushrooms when they purr and leave a faint trail of spores as they bounce around the place. This is not relevant for the campaign. I just worked really hard on their backstory and I’m in love with how gay my OCs are.

Aria may make appearances, but Ash will be my character for this campaign.

I’m very nervous, but also pretty excited.

We’re going to be a 4.5 out of 5 Charisma heavy party. We’re not the heroes Ravnica needs, but none of us rolled less than a 25 on our Persuasion check so they damn sure think we’re the ones they need right now. We’re just gonna be four chaos clowns and a hot topic warlock vs the world.

#eldritch ocs #this is like 15% of the backstory I've come up with #I've come up with so much backstory I've practically written a short book backwards #finish to start

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mrs-ravens-nest · 4 years

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Your Antagonist’s Backstory: Week 4

Featuring Patrick of The Survival Virus

[Week 1: Introduction] - [Week 2: Becoming] - [Week 3: Choice - Part 1 and Part 2]

Prompt: Protagonist - A moment, where they reminisce about the protagonist, during the narrative or before - maybe after the first time they met, or the first time they learned about their existence or adversity. - Provided by @yourocsbackstory

Dearest Mona,

I hope all is well with you. Your liquor shipment should have arrived long before this letter. I expect details on the new brands and how they work for your tastes. Your weapons order will be arriving soon and should be exactly as you ordered. I inspected the box myself. As always, I offer for you to inform me of any unforeseen problems.

On to the point, none of that is the real reason for my writing to you this time. I have a burning desire to share my thoughts on the little gift you dropped on my doorstep. As you predicted, Miss Marcy Ozdemir came to visit my club recently. I am not certain what I expected from someone who would dare cross you and so easily make it out alive. I had my daydreams of an Amazon woman gracefully gliding through my doors, bursting with the ambience of sheer power and confidence. Then she strides up as I relax in my lounge and kneels before me, offering her undying allegiance. You know me, I’m a dreamer.

The actual woman that stomped into my place of business certainly looked nothing like I expected. Her height leaves much to be desired on the basis of basic standards of beauty. Her body type of shrunken and her clothing choice of dreary and masculine certainly did not create the most inviting female appearance. Add to that the fact that her soft, round face is still glowing with youth and from a distance, I had assumed a child had walked into my establishment and though it wouldn’t be the first time, I typically prefer older, richer clients. It’s more comfortable for the girls, understandably. Oh and her shaggy short hair doesn’t help the image.

I will say one thing about her looks when she walked up to me. Mona...those eyes. My god, I have never seen anything like them. Two different colors in one gaze. On my left, I took in a soft ocean blue of a deeper tint than I thought possible in nature. On my right, the brown evokes thoughts of sweet chocolates. Together, they painted the prettiest picture on that cute, little face that more than made up for her childish, unfashionable image. I couldn’t stop myself from imagining her gazing up at me from on her knees, those eyes like a beautiful piece of art to take in during a moment of pleasure. The daydream was almost too arousing to cover up. Now, you know it is second nature for me to analyze women based on how much I could rent them for but this one, it would take more money than anyone has to use her. This one, I would keep all to myself.

Then she opened her mouth.

I shouldn’t be surprised. You raised her after all and she had the nerve to tell you that she wanted to leave and become her own boss. If you hadn’t described her as “obedient,” I wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest.

Maybe she did bow to you. I have known you too long to assume that you would lie to me about such a thing. Still, the woman you sent me demanded a formal meeting, practically escorted me into my own office, displayed the most professional and drawn out presentation I have ever witnessed, and then attempted to set her own prices. I would not call someone with that much gall “obedient.” I could call her many things but I held myself back. For you. And for now.

To be honest, although I can’t control my tone of annoyance when speaking of a woman so unbelievably upfront and loud, I also can’t resist finding it oddly exciting. I admire her and hate her at the same time. I wanted to kick her out and lock her up. She is infuriating and arousing. These feelings fill me with such frustration but even more troublesome is my confusion when I ponder over what brought her to me. The question keeps coming to mind, “How could you possibly let her go?”

How could you stand to lose such an excitedly irritating little pet? Don’t you want to use her every day? Don’t you want to watch her verbally assault someone for fun then stuff her mouth yourself? I certainly found myself more angry than I can remember being in a long time when I saw her vociferate towards a high paying house client for no good reason. Then again, he was a number behind on his debts and the scare might have been good for him. I admit it was just a smidge amusing to watch. Still, that hatred towards house royalty is something you should have mentioned to me. That is a serious problem but I will forgive you for one reason. Someone like this was born for people like me and you. She was made to be tamed and I am positive without a doubt that I am meant to be the one to tame her. Giving her to me has been the greatest gift in all of our time knowing each other.

In short, I gave her a contract as promised and played my usual game. I made certain that all of her contacts are loyal to me. Her most substantial business decisions require my knowledge. I might even add a spy or two into her employ just for safety’s sake. I wouldn’t want her developing the wrong ideas about leaving my area of influence without some sort of warning. This is an art form, love, but I will leave my boasting on that point. For now, everything is set up perfectly and she is officially on my leash. As I promised you, I am never letting her go.

Yours truly,

Patrick Fiore

#such a creep #your antagonist's backstory #yourocsbackstory #mona #marcy #the survival virus #patrick #writeblr #writeblr events #prompts

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writingwithcolor · 5 years

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British Bangladeshi Muslim 21 Year Old

I’m usually a lurker on this blog but, I’ve decided to send in a POC profile - mainly because it’s so rare for me to see someone like me represented in the media. In fact, I’m not certain I’ve ever seen someone Bangladeshi represented in mainstream media

Beauty Standards

Colourism is a very big thing still in the Bangladeshi community. My parent’s generation, despite liking to think that they’re very open minded still fall into the trap of the narrow minded view so present in the older generations. I’ve always fallen on the fairer side and as I grew up and developed mild iron deficiency, people would comment on how beautiful my skin was (and some people use the Bengali word for beautiful as being synonymous for fair), whilst my younger sister who is on the darker side but very rarely gets such comments.

Clothing

On a day to day basis, I wear casual English clothes or more casual Asian clothing around the house. But, for special occasions where I’m going to be with other Bengali people, I do tend to wear traditional clothing. Essentially, all the women in our house have two wardrobes; one with English clothes and one with Asian clothes. Although, nowadays, the English wardrobe seems to be growing more and more packed. A quick thing - traditional Asian clothes, especially those that are very flashy and embroidered, are heavy and so people don’t tend to wear them that often.

But - it differs between person to person. My mum wears English clothes around the home but her older sister wears a saree - a plainer saree but a saree none the less.

Culture

Culture is an odd one for me because I’ve never felt as if I belonged to either one. Growing up, I didn’t fit into the typical English stereotype because I wasn’t Caucasian and I grew up bilingual. I’d also hear all these bad things about Bangladesh, and the experiences others had around me would mould the opinion I had of a country my family still refer to as their motherland. But, as I’ve grown older and actually started to make opinions for myself, I’ve begun to accept that I can be a part of both, I don’t need to be one or the other.

Dating and Romance

In my family at least, ‘dating’ is done with the intention to marry. It all remains very chaste - with very little/no physical affection - until after marriage and almost all dates are with chaperones. The only ones that happen without chaperones are those in secret or those happening after the engagement. Nowadays, I feel like love marriages are the norm and most couples meet through being introduced by other people.

Food

Food is a big part of our culture. In fact, if you’re invited to someone’s house, or if you pop in for five minutes, it’s considered rude to not sit down and have a cup of tea or even to have an entire meal. Food is one of the ways that we show affection for each other and, especially for important days like Eid, food plays a central role. Eating a meal together on a festival day like Eid is one of the few days of the year when all the adults and all the children gather together and spend time together.

In my home at least, rice and curry is a staple. As Bangladesh is mainly riverine, fish is an important part of the diet. In fact, there’s a saying that if you can’t eat fish, you’re not really Bengali (which makes things a bit awkward for my uncle who is allergic to fish) and in some families there’s a tradition of a new bride cooking a fish curry on the second day of marriage. I’m not sure why, but it’s a thing.

Home/Family life/ Friendship

I could talk about family for ages …

My family is on the big side with my Mum being one of eight and my Dad being one of six. I’m one of three, but all of my cousins are considered like siblings - because we were raised as siblings. The familial bond is an important one and it’s often one that’s a burden to bear. For instance, as I’m the oldest granddaughter/niece/cousin I’m called affa by every cousin younger than me (Affa meaning older sister) and this burden is quite a heavy one to bear. It means that when the cousins experience any issues, they run to you to sort it out whether it’s something small or something big and it’s a burden I don’t mind shouldering. After all, it’s one I’ll likely have to carry for the rest of my life.

Everyone older than you is treated with respect - even if you don’t want to respect them at all. For some reason, it’s an important thing.

Friendship between Bengali girls is … something else. Often we’ll break off and have our own conversation in Bengali as if it’s some sort of secret code and this usually comes in extremely handy when discussing secret birthday party plans in front of the person whose birthday we’re planning. Personally, my parents have never been strict that I can’t have any male friends - I honestly don’t think they care but I know of other parents who insist that their daughters can’t have male friends.

Language

To me particularly, the language was an important thing. I grew up bilingual because my grandparents lived with us and they couldn’t communicate in English. But, I don’t remember ever making the effort to learn it - it was something I picked up. I certainly can’t read or write in Bengali but I can speak it. However, this ability doesn’t seem to have transferred to my sister and most of the younger cousins. Most of my younger cousins can’t speak Bengali and so struggle to communicate with our grandparents and it’s sad to say but this isn’t strange at all. Many of the new generation British Bangladeshi’s can’t speak the language and in fact, they don’t care to learn it because they don’t see it as being worth passing along.

Religion

As a Muslim woman, I find myself being constantly policed. Whether it’s by the media or by those around me. There seems to be a misconception that if a woman wears a hijab (the head covering) then she is the epitome of all things chaste and virtuous - but that’s not always the case. There are so many hijabis I know that don’t pray five times a day or keep their fasts or they drink etc. In fact, I’ve met a lot of muslim women who don’t wear hijab but their niyyah (intention) and their behaviour is inline with religion - my sister being an example.

The basic 5 pillars of islam, the first of which is the shahadah which is the declaration of faith. This is whispered by father’s into their children’s ears at birth and is the last thing whispered into someone’s ear as they pass away.

The daily prayers are the second - with 5 prayers throughout the day and this is something I know many people struggle with, but I personally think that faith is a personal thing - you alone know your struggles. If you are praying 5 times a day and you are ridiculing someone who only prays once, you may think you’re doing the right thing. But for all you know - that person who prays once a day may be someone who reverted to the faith (revert being what we call converts) and they may be on the road to accepting Islam. Your two minutes of ridicule may even turn someone else away from peace they were hoping to find in Islam.

Zakat is the third which refers to giving alms to the poor and this is often done in the month of Ramadan.

Fasting in Ramadan is the fourth pillar and during this month, Muslims fast from sun rise to sunset and we’re not allowed to drink or eat anything. (And yes - this includes water. Not even water? Is a question we always get)

The final pillar, the fifth refers to Hajj which is the yearly pilgrimage to Mecca. Everyone who is able to afford the trip and can make it, should complete it at least once in their lives. All my family who have been, have said that it is the most peaceful time they’ve ever spent in their lives.

Things I’d like to see less of…

Muslim girls being ‘repressed’ by wearing the hijab and having a curfew and being secretly rebellious once they leave the home.

Yes, I have a curfew but mostly it’s because my parent’s are terrified after hearing of all the stabbings and the acid attacks that happen to hijab wearing Muslim women

The overly strict father figure who is unreasonable and adores sons over his daughters.

My father was on the strict side yes, but I realise now, after growing up and talking to him that it was all shaped on his own experiences. Yes, he might not have let me play in the streets until late like other kids but it was because when he was young, if he stayed out too late the racist teens would approach the Bengali children and attack them. My father was strict, but in the way that other parents in his position will be. (If anything, my mother is stricter … and the worst thing she does is text me a list of chores that she wants me to do whilst she’s at work)

That brings me onto the next point; the mother who stays at home being uneducated and relying on her husband for everything.

There’s nothing wrong with that - but the issue comes when this character is used to put down Bengali women, to try and show how much better Caucasian educated women are.

Another thing I absolutely can’t stand is the idea of a Bengali girl falling for some plain, boring Caucasian boy and he removes the wool from over her eyes, teaching her how repressed she was and how she should embrace this Western lifestyle. When a boy tried that on me in my first year of uni, I walked away from him the moment he told me that he has a hijab kink because Muslim girls are and I quote ‘untouched and I can teach them everything’.

Things I’d like to see more of…

Supportive family units.

Whilst I might fall out with my parents every now and then, as is natural, they still support me. My father and I often head out for little ice cream cafe dates and my mother is teaching me to cook (although her cooking style tends to be put enough of this in and enough of that - there’s no measurements of anything) and my siblings and cousins and I gather as a whole every weekend. Those of us that live close enough to anyway. The 20+ of us that do gather, take over a house and all between the ages of 21 and 5 tend to be unruly and can go crazy but it’s a dynamic no one seems to want to represent.

The educated hijabi.

Goodness, I can’t stand seeing the trope of a girl wanting to marry and pop out babies and etc - yes, it’s a valid trope but again, so many people use it to show how backwards we are. My eyes are even rolling now - Bengali Muslim girls are amongst some of the most driven people I have met and this is usually because the older women in our families weren’t given these opportunities and most people instantly assume that we’re not going to get far.

Casual mentions of Islam - religion is a big part of a character.

But I hate it being a controversial thing especially since Islam literally translates to ‘peace gained through submission to Allah’ and newsflash, Allah is the arabic word for God. That’s it. Why can’t we have characters who have to be home before sunset because they need to pray? Or hijabis needing to go shopping for a new headscarf or even phrases like 'this top would be so cute if it weren’t see through’ or 'if only this dress was floor length and then I wouldn’t have to wear leggings with it. I hate having to wear leggings in the heat’. These are things I regularly say!

Wooow, this is long and I kind of ended up rambling. But I hope it helps someone!

Read more POC Profiles here or submit your own.

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forever7simple3things · 3 years

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2021

january 2021. honestly i am reallly proud of us for surviving 2020. i am proud of our marriage for surviving 2020. it was one hell of a year and we did the best that we could do- which is something truly wonderful.

we got married july 3rd 2015. we started this wild journey july 3rd 2014. so to this date we have been married a total of 5 years, 66 months, 287 weeks and 2,013 days. i know that both of us have been in relationships longer than this before but to me this- this relationship, this marriage is the most important relationship I have ever entered into. so while the last ^^ has not been easy, peaceful, smooth and sometimes really not fun i would N E V E R want to be in a relationship with anyone else. there would be absolutely no love there- nothing like the love that I have for you. nothing at all.

i do believe that you deserve more than the words I have for you but I do think that these words are important and deserve to be said, and deserve to be here for you.

in the first 5 years of this marriage i feel i have given you this idea that have to act and think exactly like me. i have seen that this has left us in a very uncomfortable spot- eaten away at our marraige. i see the current state of this world, i see how quickly we can become consumed with ensuring that others have the same belief system and patterns of thought as we do - this is so wrong. so unhealthy. i am sorry for this impression, this belief. this is not what i want. this clearly is not creaing safe enviroment for us.

there are so many factors to consider for us, experiential differences, the way we were raised and things we were taught in the world. Actions. Behavior responses as we grow up and socioeconomic differences. not that we were too far off on that one. but we were at different points. all of these factors though build our patterns of thought and out beliefe systems - some of the issues we really face with eachother.

ive realized in our marriage how damaing it really is to have an expectation of desire to mold others into ourselves and how much joy it steals fom our relationship.

you were not created to be just like me - what a beautiful and frustrating thing that is.

you challenge me. you challenge my thought process.

you challenge me to be a better woman. to be a better human. a better wife. a better partner.

you help me grow. you hold me accountable and call me out. you challenge my thoughts that are not built on much of a foundation.

of course i have certain standards of you, of us, but i can not keep allowing myself to keep being upset or angty about unworthy expecations.

we both have a lot to learn

we can continue to grow

lets focus on moving forward and building us up.

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veridium · 4 years

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oc interview - olivia

tagged by the terrific @heraldofwho to have my oc do an interview! thank you again for the tag!

tagging @dickeybbqpit, @avaquet, @bitchesofostwick, @cullenvhenan, and @star--nymph if they have not done one already, or would like to do one for another oc!

name ➔ “Olivia Sinclair is my full name, though people hardly know it on account of my title. I know you have likely been asked to adhere to that, but please, call me Olivia.” are you single ➔ “I...” She grins tensely, and looks off to the nearest window. “I have a troublesome history with that word. I never consider myself “taken” or “spoken for.” I am never spoken for. But I admit I have a fondness for someone. That is all I will admit.” are you happy ➔ She smirks and shakes her head. “Happiness is a distracting goal. I have not been happy as people would call it in many years. Do I have moments of happiness? Yes. Do I hunger for it? Yes. But someone like me, the world does not encourage happiness.” are you angry ➔ “Yes, always. I just hide it well, and choose to laugh whenever I have that choice.” are your parents still married ➔ “They were until my Father passed away when I was seventeen. As far as I know, my Mother never remarried. I would not care, truly, if she did. I wouldn’t be surprised, either. Their marriage was far from perfect or lovely.”

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ “I was born at my family’s home just north of Val Royeaux. Normally I just say the Capitol, since it is close enough.” hair color ➔ “Blonde, fair, bright, whatever you would call it. The Bard in the tavern, Maryden, teases me by singing of it as spun gold. She knows I scowl at the idea of being talked about like I am some pristine art fixture.” eye color ➔ “That changes rather famously. When I am at rest they are hazel, but I am never at rest. They glow a little of gold and sometimes red. Mages can have very expressive eyes, and if they choose not to control it, it can be rather sinister looking.” She pauses, and a wry smile grows on her lips. “I like it like that.” birthday ➔ “The 7th of Drakonis, in the year 9:15.” mood ➔ “My mood? Hah,” she crosses her arms, “depends on who you ask. I would say quite friendly. Varric would agree. The Seeker would not.” gender ➔ “I am a woman.” summer or winter ➔ “Summer. Though, I have become used to the eternal snow and chill of the Frostbacks. It isn’t always a treat. Summer and Spring are my favorite seasons because of the warmth and liveliness of the country. My Father used to hunt and host gatherings celebrating the open season. Everything felt much more bearable and beautiful.”

morning or afternoon ➔ “Mornings. I do not sleep very well, so mornings are my most productive. As soon as the sun rises, I do. I absolutely detest getting a late start to my day.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ “You would never have me admit in open air if I was. Sorry, but I learned far before I ever had the chance to decide for myself, that wearing my heart on my sleeve is nothing but a liability. It is a hard habit to unlearn.” do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “I believe in infatuation as well as obsession. I believe we can use people as escapes from our own concerns. All-too-often we use these hungers as excuses to call it love. As for the real thing, perhaps I am unfamiliar with it and that has made me a skeptic. I cannot be blamed, no? After all, what have been my examples of it? Nothing worth recreating or venerating, I can tell you that much.”

who ended your last relationship ➔ “I did not have relationships, I had encounters. They ended as anomalously as they began. I do not start things with people that would cause me too much grief to finish.” have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “Yes...and their skulls...and their arms...well, I should clarify that it was not a lover’s quarrel or honest tryst. I would never do that to someone I was sincerely fond of. Where do you think I got my alias as the Black Dove, anyway? There is a reason no one has yet ventured to court me.” are you afraid of commitments ➔ “My friends would say yes. I would say yes if it means I know the perils of “belonging” to someone.” She says it with an ache in her voice, like she only half-agrees with what she is saying. She crosses one leg over the other and shakes herself of the melancholy. “I think it is even worse when the commitment is genuine. You cannot avoid it or dissuade yourself. It just becomes this affliction you have to wash yourself of.”

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Yes! Of course! My friends, my Ambassador. She used to have such an odd look on her face when I did it in the beginning, she is such a stickler for decorum. We only ever do it in private because of it. She has been won over, though, I am pleased to say.” have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “In all likelihood, yes. When people first meet me it is all about how pretty and petite I am. Naomi said once that I am honey on the eyes but spice on the tongue. I do not disagree,” she snickers a bit. have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ She opens her mouth quickly, but catches herself from responding. She chuckles a bit anxiously, and runs a hand up around the side of her neck. “I have, and I do. But that is our little secret -- I cannot have people thinking I am so sentimental.”

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ “Love is a fanciful ideal. Lust is a human craving that I am much more sympathetic of, and I know that sounds rather careless, but it is the truth. When we are honest about what is lust and what is love, I think we find lust is the most apt descriptor for the needs we act on. Love, however, takes many shapes. I love my people, I love my allies, and I love my cause. I am a human who lusts for intimacy and gratification. These do not have to exclude each other.” lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Oh sweet Maker, who would drink lemonade? Tea, tea, nothing but tea. Though I will admit I like it better hot.” cats or dogs ➔ “I do not have a preference for either. Cullen will talk for hours about dogs and I only pay attention to the first sentence and last -- shit, don’t tell him that, he will only want to rant more. Cats are fine as well. My favorite animals tend to be much larger, and with hooves and muzzles,” she says with a fiendish smile, knee jerking to show off her calf-high riding boots still on her feet.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “A few very close friends is always worth more than a legion of accolades. I will never not say so. I will admit however that my inclusion of people into that category has grown bigger since the Inquisition began.” wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Romantic, you say? So, me alone with books, candles, and a cup of something strong? I will take that over a night out. At the risk of being accused of lies, I will say I do not hate being out with good company. I am good at being sociable! Does not mean I wholeheartedly enjoy it.” day or night ➔ “Day for the struggle, night for the trouble, as my dear friend Roslyn would say. I will leave it at that,” she says tilting her head and chuckling again.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “Yes. As a child I would always want to stay up late like my Father did. Sometimes I could make it from where my room was on my Mother’s side of the home to my Father’s and find him still sitting by his fire, smoking a pipe or drinking his brandy. When I was sent to the Circle such things were much more dangerous to do, but I still sometimes broke the Templar’s curfew for certain...reasons. Understandably, nowadays I do not run into such authorities.”

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Uh...hm, well,” she scrunched her lips to one side of her face. “I am afraid both. I am...or, was, quite clumsy. Funny, considering I was a dancer in my childhood. We cannot outrun all of our imperfections, no?” wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ "Yes, so many things. So many opportunities I have chased and craved for years. It is at the very heart of who I am. As for people...that is a much more sordid answer.” wanted to disappear ➔ “If it meant defying a Templar’s vigilance, yes. Completely. Growing up I would have given anything to just be what I thought was a regular, more liberated person -- someone not born to privilege which I saw as a cage. I have since learned it was a child of wealth’s romanticization of poverty. I had many troubles, yes, but none of them were insecurity with food, shelter, or protection. What I truly wanted was to be treated with respect and love. That standard should not depend on class.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ “Eyes! Eyes are projections of the spirit. I fall for--I mean, ahah, I get to know someone a great deal through the way their eyes and faces change in different moods.” shorter or taller ➔ “With my height, it is rather easy to elect for taller.” intelligence or attraction ➔ “Both, yes? You need both to a degree. Minds in tandem with one another add the fire to any bond.” hook-up or relationship ➔ She gives a knowing look, brow raised and grin crooked, indicating to move on to the next question.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ She only chuckles and rolls her eyes. would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “I grew up in a deeply distorted and toxic culture. I was sent to the Circle which oppressed Mages for being who they are. My friends and I broke free and I landed here, somehow, with an anchor in my hand and a title before my name. I have suffered but I have survived. A lot of people would say the same having faced dangers I never had to.” have you ever ran away from home ➔ ”No, but then again, eventually I did not have to.” have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “I believe that is what one might say into describe my being sent to the Circle, so, yes?”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Secretly? No! Veronica knows I revile her.” She tries to maintain a straight face, but she cannot help but crack another smile. do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Yes, of course. They are the noblest, kindest, and most worthy people I know. We grew up together. As for my friends in the Inquisition, I know better than to believe our relationships indivisible. We all have arrived from different places and positions in the world. If this fight ever ends, I imagine those positions will pull us into new and old directions. All this said, I wish to believe that our bonds have a sincerity to them.” who is your best friend ➔ “I could never say I have just one. I have a few. When we have different concerns and needs, we go to each other. It is as it should be.” who knows everything about you ➔ “Me as a person behind the leadership role? One of the girls could probably answer that. Me as both leader and person? Leliana and Josephine, of course. Cassandra would...she would, too.” She blinks, and shakes her head suddenly. “I mean, of course she would. That woman has dragged me everywhere. Insufferable.”

#oc interview #olivia sinclair #inquisitor!Olivia #oc tag #mutuals!!

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mrsrcbinscn · 4 years

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Franny Robinson HC Infodump #4: Country and Bluegrass Music

hi, I’ll finally do a writeup on her work in jazz next but I’m in a country mood and was INSPIRED so oops country first

Word count: 2486

Dara & Danny

In 1991, Daniel Maitland (fc: Martin Sensmeier), an Indigenous Alaskan kid, moved from Alaska to Payne Lake, Georgia, with his parents and older and younger sisters after his father got a job opportunity in Atlanta, a reasonable commute away. Daniel spent two years being musical rivals with Franny Framagucci before he proposed they just combine their talents and perform together at talent shows and the county fair. The two were inseparable, musically, until Franny went to college at NYU and Daniel went to East Tennessee State.

They remained friends throughout college and reunited during winter and summer breaks to play together locally. Daniel was in Franny’s wedding party. He’s Wilbur’s godfather and is ‘Uncle Dan’, they’ve always remained close. They would write songs together usually through an internet connection except for when they could travel to write in person.

In 2009, Daniel once again was the one who suggested they officially collaborate. That’s when the bluegrass-country-traditional southern/Appalachian folk duo was born. They have released 9 albums together since they started releasing music under Dara & Danny.

One album, titled Molly’s Church, is almost entirely songs from the hymnal of the Church of the Nazarene in their hometown in Georgia, which was the church their friend Molly attended before her death. It was a “fuck you” response to them having received backlash from certain gatekeepers for a video of them singing Hank Williams’ I Saw The Light going viral. They were pissed two non-Christians were getting praise for performing the song. (Franny is a Buddhist and Daniel is an Indigenous Alaskan with traditional spiritual beliefs).

To the backlash, Franny said, and announced the dropping of this album on an Instagram Live Q & A, “It’s funny. Like. Christmas is such a part of mainstream American culture. I celebrate Christmas, my non-religious Maori husband celebrates Christmas, are y’all mad about that too? Christianity is so deeply woven into American culture and the history of American music, like I just -- its wild y’all are so mad. And because I like to poke an angry bear, our new album, Molly’s Church [...] and what really gets me is like - just because I ain’t Christian, don’t mean I’m ignorant about it either. I’m from the Bible Belt, y’all. I did go to church with my little friends some Sunday mornin’s as a child if I had a sleepover at their house. [...] One of my best friends, the lovely, talented, beautiful, late Molly Vaughn, who we named the album after, was a devout Christian. When I would cry, she’d always sing It Is Well With My Soul to me and play with my hair. You can’t tell me that because I’m not a Christian, that song ain’t special to me. I think of that song whenever I’m going through a hard time and my heart is at peace because at its core it's a song about looking at your situation and making peace with it, and finding the strength to move on to hopefully better days. At her husband’s request, I sang Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing at her funeral, okay? Like- [pause for annoyed exhaling] to suggest we have nothing but respect for these beautiful hymns is insulting. [...] Insulting not just to us, but to the hymns. They’re so beautiful that they have made an emotional impact on two non-Christian musicians. I think that’s wonderful and speaks to how lucky we are to live in a time where all sorts of sorts are able to learn from and share with each other. But that’s just us, I guess.

Every song on Molly’s Church has a special memory attached to it for either myself or Daniel, or in the case of Be Thou My Vision, it was Molly’s favorite hymn ever. We couldn’t name an album of hymns after her and not put that on it.”

The track list is as follows: [Spotify playlist]

I couldn’t find a folksy or bluegrassy version of Be Thou My Vision, which. I’m ANGRY about. Because when I was a practicing Nazarene Christian it was my favorite hymn, and I still find it beautiful but.

Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing

How Great Thou Art

Dwelling In Beulah Land

Be Thou My Vision

It Is Well With My Soul

I Saw The Light

Victory In Jesus

Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

Mine Eyes Have Seen The Glory

Holy, Holy, Holy

Another album, titled Something’s Rotten in The Sticks is purposely very dark. It’s largely covers of murder ballads and sad traditional folk songs from the American South and Appalachian Mountains, featuring original songs and covers of songs that explore the darker sides of more modern rural life like the opioid crisis, unemployment, poor education, poverty with no social safety nets, and more.

Franny openly admits that she wrote the original songs from a place of immense privilege. In an Instagram Live Q&A about the album she said, “These aren’t my exact lived experiences. But I feel like I have some right to talk about these stories because these are the things happening to my people, the good people of the town that took my mother in when she was a twenty-something year old refugee, and then helped raise me. I buried my first friend thanks to the Sacklers (the family whose pharma company produces oxycontin, who purposely spread misinformation about how its a safe drug and who pret-ty much engineered the opioid epidemic) in 1998. I just last month buried one of my best friends since elementary school after three narcan shots couldn’t save them.

Rural Southern folks and the problems they face are dear to my heart. [...] I know how lucky I am to have grown up in the rural south and ended up where I am today, in the privileged position I am in. [...] And I see the way people in the cities talk to and about these people and it’s fucking gross. You know nothing about these people and what their lives are like, and what they care about and worry about. I have always been proud to be Southern, just as I’m proud to be Cambodian. [...] Rural poor folks are the kindest, most loving, most resilient people, and I am not ashamed that I came from that.

This album… so our last album, Prodigal Children of Clayton County, Georgia, was a love letter to and about our hometown and the people of the rural south. This album is more of a ‘we see you.’ And it's also, I hope, an accessible way to start explaining the problems our people face to city elites that look down their noses at them. Like, I hope people can say in response to “I just don’t understand these people”, “hey, go listen to I Grabbed A Banjo (And You, The Pills), then talk to me.”

Daniel said in that same Q & A, “I was born in Alaska, I met Franny when I moved to her hometown in Georgia, in middle school, and we began playing music together in high school. I live in the Appalachian Mountains now, I studied Bluegrass and Old Time music at East Tennessee State University, in Johnson City. Now, I’m -- I’ve been lucky enough to make a living out of the music I love, but you know- like I said. I live in the Appalachian mountains, in Kentucky, in a rural area. I never left the rural south, since I came here, this has been my home. We’re privileged now, but had a few stars aligned differently, our high school friends’ lives would have been ours. We love the people of this region. Like Franny said, we both have two groups of people we are passionate about amplifying and equipped to amplify. Mine are our struggling rural folks, and Indigenous voices, and Franny don’t ever shut up about Cambodian or the rural south.”

“I really fucking don’t.” Franny quipped.

The track list is as follows: [Spotify link, the first 8 tracks are the songs they covered on the album and the rest are songs that fit the vibe of the original songs to give y’all a picture]

Knoxville Girl

I Grabbed A Banjo (And You, The Pills), an original song about the opioid epidemic that’s killed many of Franny and Daniel’s high school friends

Troubles, traditional folk song as popularized by Kilby Snow and Anna & Elizabeth

Red Dirt Girl (Emmylou Harris cover)

But I Ain't A Milton Boy/Girl , an original song about how in Milton (a bougie rich people part of Georgia) kids go to college and become doctors and lawyers while people from the song narrators’ town don’t bother learning to solve for X because all that waits for them is army recruiters, the power company, or the unemployment line [the male narrator, Daniel], and the female narrator [Franny] sings about how she was a smart girl who held her first baby when she was a baby herself, married two bad men she thought were good, and now she sells her ADHD pills to college kids to buy groceries, and how their high school aspirations crumbled easily, and the chorus is literally just narrators fantasizing about a decent standard of living and having decent opportunities and then going, “But I ain’t a Milton boy/girl, and that’s why I’m cryin’ today”

Deportee (Woody Guthrie song as covered by Dolly Parton)

Savannah, a song Franny wrote about the time her brother drove her down to Savannah when she got pregnant in high school so she could have an abortion three hours from home, where nobody local to them would be out front shouting at people needing abortions

Poor Folks Town (Porter Wagoner and Dolly Parton cover, instrumentation is modified to be a little melancholy to fit the rest of the album, but it is still a markedly happier song than the rest of the album except for Rich Kid Clothes)

Don’t Put Whiskey In My Water, an original song about a man nine years sober almost falling off the wagon when he’s laid off ahead of his teenage daughter’s high school graduation, including the line ‘don’t worry about Ole Miss, we’ll figure it out, somehow we always do, smart little girl like you can’t die in this town’

Don’t Take Your Guns To Town (Johnny Cash cover)

Pretty Polly

Down In The Willow Garden

Rich Kid Clothes, original song about a brother and sister super jazzed about their “new” clothes, hand-me-downs from the rich kids of the house their mama cleans, happiest song on the album

Health Insurance, an original song from the perspective of three different people, on in each verse, either dying or seriously suffering from solvable medical issues but because healthcare in America is trash they either can’t get help, or are going bankrupt trying to, that’s incredibly sarcastic including lyrics like ‘and I know I deserve to die for not having had a rich great-grandaddy, and who wants to see their daughter graduate college anyway’ , one of those sad songs with joyful instrumentation

Another album! Is titled The Rise And Fall of Jenny and Jamie, and is a concept album meant to be listened from start to finish that tells the story of a couple that falls in love, gets married, has a very dysfunctional marriage, and ultimately divorces. Think the energy of Alpha Desperation March by The Mountain Goats, and the entire Tallahasee album but especially No Children. The Dara & Danny album is a little less dark because the last few songs, about divorce, are like...happy.

Daniel, who had been divorced twice by the time they wrote the songs for that album, said “There is nothing sad about ending a marriage you’re miserable in or don’t want anymore. The two songs about the divorce, they’re happy because our characters are happy to be done with each other. It isn’t Tammy Wynette spelling D-I-V-O-R-C-E and lamenting the end of her marriage, instead, Jenny and Jamie realize their marriage is toxic not just for the other person, but for themself, and they’re relieved to not be married anymore.

Notable Dara & Danny performances and accomplishments:

They cover Whiskey Lullaby at many shows they do. A video from a 2016 show went semi-viral, and fans of the duo will show it as an example of “Peak Dara & Danny”

Nominated for the 2019 Grammy Award for Best American Roots Song, as the duo Dara & Danny, but ultimately Brandi Carlile won for ‘The Joke’

Franny was absolutely thrilled for her. She STANS Brandi Carlile and has written songs with her before.

In the post-Grammys interview, the interview asked Franny if she was disappointed and she was like “I would pay Brandi Carlile to punch me in the face, so no.”

The clip of Franny saying that went viral and embarrassed poor Wilbur

“To be honest, when I saw The Joke was nominated, I didn’t even bother writing a speech. Daniel and I were both just thrilled to be considered to be like, at her level.”

Nominated for the 2019 Grammy Award for Best American Roots Performance, as Dara & Danny, and again lost to “The Joke”, but again, did not care at all

Won the 2019 Grammy Award for Best Bluegrass Album as Dara & Danny, their fifth nomination in the category and second win

Nominated as Dara & Danny in the category Vocal Duo of The Year at the 2019 CMA awards.

Nominated for IBMA Album of the Year in 2014, 2015, 2017, and 2018

Won the 2019 IBMA for Album of the Year

Won the 2019 IBMA for Song of the Year

Franny is the first person of Cambodian descent to win a Grammy, an ASCAP award, an IBMA, or be inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame

Daniel is the first Alaskan Native to be inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame

Solo work

Franny’s used bluegrass-folk style music to write songs about the experiences of her mother and other relatives under the Khmer Rouge and in the civil conflict that preceded it. It leans a little away from #pure bluegrass but it includes mandolin, banjo, and even some traditional Cambodian instruments. It’s this blend of bluegrass instrumentation and traditional Cambodian instruments that on paper sounds like “Franny you’re crazy” but in practice its fuckin’ lit, y’all.

It’s as genius as The Hu, that Mongolian band that was like “what is we play metal music with guitars and a drum set and TRADITIONAL MONGOLIAN INSTRUMENTS?” Lit.

She did an entire album, Franny Sor Robinson Covers Kitty Wells [playlist] and that album gained Franny a ton of street cred in the country/bluegrass industry. She got a lot of respect for her Kitty Wells covers.

She’s released three solo albums of folksy-bluegrass-country style music that is original music she wrote the lyrics and music for.

Three solo albums, the Kitty Wells cover album, and nine Dara & Danny albums makes twelve country-bluegrass albums total Franny’s released, not counting featured artist appearances on other albums.

Notable Franny Sor Robinson awards, performances, and accomplishments in the country music sphere:

Franny sang ‘Born To Fly’ with Sara Evans once

Franny loves that song, it came out in 2000, when she was in college at NYU, and it was a staple song of hers to perform at any gigs she did in college

The day the United States legalized same-sex marriage, Franny was a supporting solo act for a friend of hers and she was like “I don’t know a better way to celebrate than by taking one of my favorite country love songs and making it better. And by that I mean gay.” By this point she’d been out as bisexual for years. So she sang Brad Paisley’s She’s Everything

Franny’s always kept the pronouns the same in songs she covers, so if it was a man’s song about a woman she’s always kept it about a “she.” Her cover of She Thinks I Still Care by George Jones was an instant hit when it was released on one of her solo albums

At an event honoring Randy Travis, Franny performed his hit Deeper Than The Holler for him

She also got to sing I Told You So with him once at another occasion and she damn near died

At the final show of George Strait’s final tour, Franny sang Carried Away with him and almost cried he is one of her!!! Idols!!! and during his encore, she joined him and all of the other special guests of the final concert to sing All My Exes Live In Texas

She’s been awarded and recognized by various organizations for the furthering of Asian-Americans in the arts in general, in music, and empowerment for both her work in jazz and country umbrella music

She’s performed at and been nominated for CMA awrds, ACM awards, and Americana Music Honors & Awards

She’s won Americana Music Awards

When challenged to prove she could yodel she fuckin got right up and sang Hank Williams’ Long Gone Lonesome Blues and nailed all the very technical yodeling, and its a thing she’s like, Known for doing, so she will perform it live pretty often

#&&...hc

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oldanddilis · 4 years

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Expletives, suppression of passion

I am convinced expletives have been given a bad name by people who dislike passionate displays of love, truth and emotion. Whoever linked them up with sexual innuendos must have been jealous, cowardly, frustrated, narcissists. In English a bar can mean many things, a rod, a drinking area, to prohibit something, a standard of measure. Expletive comes from the word explicit, words which make things explicit, they are a natural part of any language. The word @€ing for example can mean really/exceptionally etc it has nothing to do with a sexual act, when used as an adjective or adverb it emphasises the quality. "That was a great party" becomes an exceptionally good party when one says "€&@# that was a great party" or "that was a €&@#ing great party" there is no malice or vulgarity these are terms which express a level of passion. We all sense the passion, there's no malice so why have these natural powerful words which express passion been outlawed? My reckoning is that these innocent words initially began being demonised in courtrooms, when a Judge who was maybe a paedophile or a scob was faced with someone passionately innocent using such words the Judges were so frustrated that when they could find no crime committed but wanted to persecute that person they made it a crime to display passion by using expletives. Similarly in education when socially frustrated people in power were challenged by passionate displays of excitement and wonder it is likely that in their jealousy they sought to put that person down by saying they were vulgar using language as their reasoning. In fact it can be a very intelligent use of language to use expletives it often expresses in an instant what a thousand carefully crafted words can't, raw passion. They also can be and are used to great effect by people with limited access to education. For example while there exists a certain snobbery that whoever knows the most words (or understands mathematics) must be more intelligent than the average, this usually reflects the level of access to education rather than intelligence, a highly intelligent but perhaps less educated person might express qualities better with a much more limited range of words. For example someone well educated with a high volume of words in their vocabulary bank might say that pie was exquisitely, delicious and satisfying to the appetite another person not educated might say wow that pie was €&@#ing lovely, we instantly (well I do) sense the raw passion and I for one am going to try the €&@#ing lovely pie rather than the exquisitely delicious one that is satisfying to the appetite... why? The €&@#ing lovely pie obviously has something of a bit more kick in it. Expletives can be overused like many words, for example "right" "" you know" "like" "buddy" "ya hear" these can become a slight annoyance when someone uses them in almost every sentence but they don't get demonized and we usually don't notice them until they are pointed out (perhaps by someone trying to exert social control over (bully) the said person). My guess is they were originally despised by the colonial aristocracy of all nations who were probably so bound by rules of etiquette it drove them nuts seeing people with less material power so happy and able to express themselves, historically the ruling classes controlled the education and in order to gain access to education people had to conform to the rules and show less passion. It seems that this snobbery and discrimination still persists to an extent in academia. While everyone likes to think they are "cool and hip" there still is that unstated disdain. The word b@€&@# similarly does NOT mean a child born outside an institutional marriage. It means a despicable, selfish, evil person. We all know this so why is the meaning still associated with children who it cannot truly describe (because they are still limited by their circumstance much more than most adults) when it is in fact a term describing certain adults who are old enough to know better? My guess is this was used by certain people in power in religions to intimidate and bully people who fell in love and had children but didn't attend church or pay money to their coffers. What a despicable way to bully loving families by picking on their children. These religious people were/are the real b€&@#&s. As for the word cant, it is a fantastic word and nothing to do with a beautiful part of the female anatomy. My guess is it comes from the word can't, to describe those people who will say "no" to just about everything, no you can't do that or this, no that can't be done, I reckon they became known as a can't or cants but the accent changed over time to become a c@nt. We all know this yet some people, who probably are c@nts, say it is a bad word "you can't say that word it's a bad word!" "Yes I can, it's not a bad word, you just don't like it because you are a c@nt." No it is a fantastic funny word because it is so passionate and clear with such efficiency, the offence only happens in the c@nt's mind perhaps they are just a socially conditioned person a can't, now known as a c@nt. Things have come a long way but there is still more distance to go to get rid of the snobbery and discrimination, I reckon if we got rid of this politically correct oppression of genuine emotion and stopped the snobbery it would be another step towards equality across all divisions. I find women traditionally use less expletives reflective of the greater oppression of true emotion. We all know when someone is being nasty using these words offensively but there is no need to demonise the words. The words are not offensive they can't be they are just harmless sounds. It is in the mind of the critic where there is an offence committed or in the speaker if their intent is nasty. To express honest emotion is in reality something that should be encouraged rather than suppressed. Everyone knows it is in the mind of the critic where the offense is, if someone playfully says "€&@# you!" There is a certain innate intelligence that understands it is fun, similarly when it is used in a nasty way we similarly recognise the intent. That calls for a certain level of intelligence and awareness. Expletives whatever way you look at them are intelligent linguistic tools. One thing I don't like is them being used aggressively on children because it displays a level of intimidation which children don't deserve, aren't always eauipped to deal either and can be quite debilitating subconsciously. I know myself in order to survive violent teachers, predatory bullying religious clergy, unjust courtrooms etc I had to learn to silence my voice, curb my freedom, my happiness and obey the rules, restrict my passion or get even more beatings and persecution. The restriction of these words is actually against international law. The Universal declaration of human rights states everyone has the right to use their natural languages without discrimination yet we all know the reality, they are used as an excuse to discriminate, for example law enforcers very often persecute people for using them (while using them themselves.) To end on a historical fun note while studying religions I learned that the feet are symbols used as expressions of extreme distaste or offense in the middle east. In the Christian Gospels it is written that Jesus told his disciples to shake the dust off their feet when leaving a place where they are not made welcome to show how unwelcome these people will be in the kingdom of heaven, the modern equivalent is to give the middle finger as many people do when they are left out on the street, refused entry to a party or otherwise discriminated against.

This divide and conquer tactic has also been used to divide generations and disempower/discriminate against parents who freely use expletives and raise their children to express themselves similarly. I of course had to curb my passion in this post in case some can't complained to tumblr and used it as an excuse to hold back science. If anyone does a note to tumblr folks, because I solved the double slit experiment and unlocked the Theory of Everything my account here is likely to get you more new account sign ups in a week than you have maybe had in years and there's nothing in the post that we don't see in kids comics.

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skinnylittleredwrites · 4 years

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My best friend, my lover.

TITLE OF STORY: My best friend, my lover. CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 2/? AUTHOR: skinnylittlered. WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom. GENRE: Romance. FIC SUMMARY: Andrea and Tom have been friends since the beginning of time. Until a confession of love is made. This story follows the events of their subsequent relationship (sequel to You Wanna Play that Game? ) RATING: Explicit (language, references to sexual activity). WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: - FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: -

Chapter 2.

I don’t see how I could ever tire of this.

Surely, this feeling might be greatly influenced by the fact that, due to his absolutely hellish schedule his job all but demands, and the very static nature of my own job – I am, more often than not, essentially tied to my desk and the seemingly never ending piles of papers that consume most of my time at work and sometimes my free time as well, so more time than I’d ever care to admit to myself or any who may inquire – we have probably spent somewhere in the vicinity of maybe a fortnight in each other’s presence in the last three months and, while I would have been completely content with the situation should things have transpired in that way, there’s more to a relationship, I’m being told, than fucking each other’s brains for the whole of the time we’re together. Thusly, precious time which could have been dedicated to mindless penetration was regrettably wasted on romantic niceties and such other nonsense which I could have really done without, regardless of how cute they may be.

This is precisely why, as I find myself kneeling against the headrest of his bed – well, technically, our bed now – and being pounded into with the fervour that I thought was only reserved for pubescent boys furiously masturbating against any surface even remotely resembling the softness that is specific to the female kind, I am relishing maybe more so than I generally would during copulation. Not to cause any misunderstanding, Tom has proved himself to be quite the competent lover, effectively obliterating the sparse doubts I may have amassed in regards to that topic. Doubts, I should add, that were compiled during the not infrequent locker talk that I either overheard or was a present participant to over the years of our friendship. Honestly, men have such a way of perorating about their sexual conquests that it renders a female of the even coarser sensibilities (or maybe especially her) to regard their grandiose claims as at least dubious if not entirely unbelievable. But, fortunately for all the parties involved, that is both myself and him, those claims are, irrefutably if not quite as monumentally, backed up by facts - he is a man of a certain degree of mastery, not to be overlooked, when it comes to gratifying the beautiful sex.

And here I am, being thoroughly gratified – thoroughly being the operative word – as I am taken from behind, with great enthusiasm. He’s got me by a fistful of hair and a fistful of hip, grunting as he thrusts into me, and it is music to my ears, accompanied by the sounds of his pelvis slamming into my ass – a symphony of absolute debauchery if I’ve ever heard one. I, naturally, being the refined erotic artist that I fancy myself to be, am holding my own to this most exquisite harmony of sounds, positive that my moans and screams of pleasure can be heard from across the street, but I indulge in expressing my satisfaction shamelessly, completely neglecting any sense of the basest form of propriety or moral value instilled in me since infanthood. I revel in the delights of the flesh to the uttermost extent, I am unabashed and completely incorrigible and I am -

Oh, god, I’m -

I cry out my climax, bending backwards toward him in a way that I am certain might be highly uncomfortable if not impossible were it not for the adrenaline shooting through me. He reaches to my ear and whispers rough words that would otherwise be insulting, that he would not be caught dead addressing a woman in a different scenario, but right now only intensify my pleasure, coaxing it out of me. I whimper and I come, as I am commanded, and it doesn’t register in my brain that I am no longer at my apex even minutes later, when he stiffens to his own release.

Panting and sweating, we both let ourselves fall on the crumpled sheets of our lovemaking. Tom is, soon enough, fast asleep, but I am, although physically spent, nowhere near enough to drowsy. I am somehow full of energy but unable to manifest it, and, to save myself from the eventual frustration that will overcome me in this paradoxal state and because of it, I raise from the bed and head for the shower, pondering almost disinterestedly at the domestic tasks that I have to accomplish for the day and other such things.

It’s been three months. Three very convoluted, intense, consuming months. So much so, that, except for the occasional talks we have confronting the subject during our very infrequent times together, we did not really have the time others may have to slide into conjugality, it’s still quite foreign territory, although broadly discussed. Between travelling to every and all corners of the world, filming and catering to his fanbase and, winning awards, we tried to fit in our newly developed liaison. We went on dates and held hands and our interactions slowly metamorphosised, without losing the friendly quality of the ones prior to our respective confessions, into something entirely new, but still very familiar. Our romance, we learned, is in the small things. Not much of our demeanour towards the other has changed, but the subtleties which make all the difference in the world are ever present, and those lay in our knowledge. He doesn’t look at me any differently, nor does he speak to me differently, nor does he hug me longer nor tighter, but his love, professed and recognised, gives other meaning to what was before. There are, of course, the intimacies that are entirely strange to the realm of platonic, but those are hardly ever on display – I am the part of him that the world shall merely know of, but never know – and to the couple of us, they seem but a natural extension to something that was present all along. But that does not domesticity make. This we shall learn as we go, one morning waking up together at a time.

Or one homemade meal at a time? I speak the question rhetorically, as there is no one in the room to answer, and giggle at myself a bit as I’m chopping various vegetables for supper.

Cooking was not an activity that I have ever particularly enjoyed or was any good at. Obviously, nobody is particularly proficient at anything from the onset, lest for an inherent propensity that might as well be divinely gifted, as the general consensus seems to be with the average folk, but I appeared to be, from early times, especially unskilled at any culinary endeavours. My attitude towards the matter was the insurmountable obstacle toward my progression in the field – I would never, for the life of me, be caught in the kitchen, either by myself or others, when the convenience of the ready-to-eat, brought-to-your-own-door meal was an available commodity, even in college, when money was less than it is now. With an upper middle class family to support me and a part time job as a barista, money was hardly the issue – it would be highly hypocritical of me to not acknowledge the very fact that beauty pays for itself; I am an example of the basic caucasian standard of classic beauty: honey blonde hair, blue eyes and a slim oval face, the body that I religiously keep fit to serve my vanity more than my health or any other purpose, and a sweet disposition that I nearly cunningly employ to my advantage, I would never dare say that life wasn’t made easier by those cumulus of facts.

But cooking, or any other traditionally womanly activities, I discovered as I was growing up, became more tolerant, even pleasant when their result has a recipient. I may not enjoy preparing my own food, I am still as guilty of succumbing to pre-prepared commodities as I was in my youth when mine is the only mouth that needs feeding, but I certainly do enjoy putting a meal together for my partners, and Tom is no exception. If anything, he’s the instance reinforcing the rule. In the little time we’ve had together, I’ve made it my mission to bring him a home he can take refuge in anywhere we may be.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Ah, speak of the devil, there he is, all six feet and two inches of freshly roused glory, donning just boxers and a tee, and a self-satisfied smirk on his face, for somewhat reason.

“I did not buy it then; I don’t buy it now.”

“First of all, you said you did-”

“I lied.”

“And second, mean.”

“Am I?”

“You hurt my achey breakey heart.”

“I think your heart is just fine, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckles against my neck as he hugs me from behind, sending a shiver down my spine. “My heart is mighty fine, although I do wonder about my stomach. It is very sanitary to be cooking in your underwear?”

"I am wearing a t-shirt!”

“...and no pants.”

“Well, I was going for sexy, not sanitary.”

“You’re always sexy.”

I huff.

“There’s no point to flattery, Hiddleston, with me, you can already get anything you want.”

“I’m not flattering. I do think you’re sexy. Always have.”

“Always?”

“Yeah. I never really wanted to admit it to myself, because that would have been... problematic, but I did. You’re a very beautiful woman.”

Although I am very much aware of that, his declaration still puts a knot in my throat and, like the sap that I am, my eyes become moist with overdramatic tears. I turn and rest my forehead on his chest, holding his body closer to mine. “I know.”

He laughs at my muffled reply, but is quick to chastise my illogical crying.

“Oh, dear, none of that. I can make a list of all of the things that are absolutely awful about you, then you can hate me and stop the waterworks.”

Sentiment promptly forgotten, I take a step back and glare at him.

“There’s nothing awful about me, I’m perfect!”

“Like hell you are,” his laugh is mirthful and unforgiving.

“Fine. Tell me three things which are awful about me.”

His reply is matter-of-fact and not at all hesitant.

“You’re self-centred, vain, and not only slightly superficial. And, while we’re at it, your cooking’s not fantastic, either. I think you take after your mother.”

“That last one was mean and uncalled-for! But, fuck, I sound terrible. Am I so terrible?”

The fact that I pulled out the puppy eyes on him on that last bit surely only emphasises some of my shortages in good character, because I’m doing it just to torment him. I know he doesn’t and I know he’ll feel especially bad for being so blunt in his criticism, and he’ll pull his very own variation of the puppy-eyes on me to be granted forgiveness later, which I will of course provide after making him repent.

Orally.

“Why are you smirking all of a sudden?”

“Huh?”

“What’s with the face?”

“Ah, nothing. Up for takeout pizza?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Yeah, we’re going to be just fine, Tom Hiddleston and I. Maybe not one homemade meal at a time, though.

________________________________________________________________

Author’s notes: It’s been about four years since I last wrote pretty much anything in any way literary (maybe some poetry here and there), and I decided that I miss it (and was pestered by some folks very dear to me to get my ass in gear and just do it again) so, yeah. Decided that, since I was so comfortable with the medium of fanfic, this would be a good place to give my writing bones a good crackin’, and so far things have been surprisingly nice. I honestly thought the fandom was dead, but it seems that you guys are still alive and very much kicking.

Aaaaanywaaayyy.

I wanted to send out a huge, huge thanks to those of you who stuck for so long. It makes a girl shed a tiny but highly valuable tear. Also huge thanks for those of you who have stumbled upon my work while I was gone, those who sent messages and likes and kudos and reblogs and all that fun stuff. I came back to quite a number of those and, well, let’s just add another tiny tear to that previous one. Also thanks to those of you who are new to the my tiny blog of stories, another tiny tear and I will be full on tiny crying.

Thank you!

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction

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