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bigtreefest · 2 months

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Chapter 3: Honey Trap

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: A Farmer’s Market and Pouring out your heart over a beer leads to Bucky learning more about his favorite mysterious farmer

Content/warnings: mentions of previous heartbreak and descriptions, a surprising amount of crying/near-crying, soft mobster Bucky, Heartless Jake, Creepy Cole, mentions of blood/period (not graphic and should be normalized because this happens to me all the time and I know I’m not alone in that), excessive drinking and lowkey alcoholism, cowboy hat rule, mutual pining and reluctance towards that, y/n used like three times

Word Count: 5,295

A/N: I didn’t mean for this chapter to be this long, but also, I definitely meant for it to be this long. Sorry for making dear, wonderful, Jake Jensen out to be a bad guy, and NOT sorry for making Cole Turner a creep. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are SUPER appreciated. Thank you for reading, I love you *gives forehead kiss*

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky knew lots of languages. Country was not one of them. You would think it would be, with how many arms purchasers were from the south, but he kept his dealings with those folk as short and formal as possible. It was better for his sanity and everyone else that way.

He’d been running into a lot of country folk today, helping you run this farmer’s market out of one of your barns. Half of his conversations with people were full of twangy words and phrases he didn’t understand, so he just lightly laughed, hoping that was the right response. The other half were children, asking him what the bump was on the side of his head, the result of the bee incident earlier this week. Before, it was slightly swollen and red, but it was nearly back to normal. Darn kids have keen eyes, though, and no shame. He’d just about had enough. These people were too polite, besides their annoying children. Lucky for him, though, he’d sold off the last of the turnip greens, and his cash box was full, so he made his way over to you at the stand holding the freshly jarred honey you’d successfully, and he’d not-so-successfully harvested earlier in the week. It was just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation he saw you were having with a slightly older woman.

“You’re like our very own honeybee”

“Oh please, Mrs. Jensen, you know the bees do all the work. I just put it in a jar”

“You’re too modest, dear. My Jakey says no one makes sweeter honey than you. I always tell him to come back and help if he loves it that much, but it seems he’s too late now. Looks like you’ve got yourself a new farm hand who’s easy on the eyes”

Bucky glanced up at her through his eyelashes with his signature smirk, raising to a stand from setting the empty turnip green crate at your feet. “Well you know what they say, honeybees don’t work alone. And their hard work makes the world go round.”

For some reason unbeknownst to him, Bucky slung his hand over your shoulder. Was it jealousy he was feeling? Possessiveness? Why, he didn’t own you and he promised himself he wouldn’t fall, physically or metaphorically (although it was far too late physically, and he didn’t want to think about how close he truly was metaphorically). Plus, it’s not like he was having the best time right now. This whole week was a nightmare, and the only reason he was in a decent mood was from seeing your smile as you interacted with the town’s folk today. You were a person of the people, in juxtaposition to how Bucky was often only looking out for himself. So why did the mention of Jakey make this feel necessary and why did it feel so right? Either way, he was proud of you and your hard work and the way it made people beam as bright as Mrs. Jensen. But he’d never say that. Where he’s from, hard work is expected and definitely not praised, although not nearly as manual. But seeing all the effort for that couple jars of honey made him question if the work he was even doing was that hard. Maybe he’d been away from the city too long and was losing perspective. Yeah. That had to be it.

“Well, either way, bless y’all’s heart for putting in the work. I’ll tell Jake you say hello.”

You and Bucky both waved goodbye.

“Well how about it Honeybee, Jakey appreciates all your hard work” he smirked, but watched the smile slide off your face.

“Try telling me that with our awful breakup years ago” you shrugged off with a small chuckle, but Bucky could see the light drain out of your eyes a little. He had obviously struck a nerve, but didn’t want to push farther, at least not now when there were still a few customers aimlessly shopping around for the last bits of produce left. Maybe he’d catch you once the two of you were alone.

You turned away from him to hide your grimace. Thinking back to that whole situation with Jake, on top of serving others all morning had completely drained you and it was quickly catching up.

“Um, why don’t you finish cleaning up the rest of the empty crates after you ask those last few people how you can help them with anything” you waved off Bucky back towards the other end of the barn, head down, starting to look through the cash box he had handed you. You waited until you could hear his receding footsteps on the hay floor to sniffle and take a deep breath. Bucky had keen ears, though, and hesitated hearing your sigh, before he continued on, giving you your chance to regroup. He had never seen you like this before, you were normally chipper and full of energy, often a little too much for his liking, but luckily it was Friday, and after he closed these deals, you both were home free.

Bucky quickly helped the last few stragglers take their rather large haul back to their car. An older man and woman who owned the bar in town had come to get some fresh vegetables for their salads, and Bucky convinced them to take the lot with his charm. That, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to carry them all the way back to storage. That was a long way, and you made him walk it. He rolled his eyes when you had told him about the task, too, handing him the handle to a little red wagon with a beaming smile on your face, insisting “that’s how Pappy did it before his first tractor” and “what did you think, I like wasting diesel for food that’s supposed to have a low carbon footprint? That’s why I’ve got you, Bucket.” So Bucky grumbled under his breath at first light, angry, yet amused that the nickname stuck, but still too tired to react any differently when he started the first of his dozen trips to move the produce from storage into the farmer’s market barn. And there was no way he was gonna do that again, so he convinced the couple to take the lot, even offering to carry it out to the car for them, because that was better than the quarter mile walk both ways through the tall grass of your fallow fields to return them.

“Thank you so much for your help, Jamie. You’ve taken such good care of us, you should come by the bar later if you can get some free time from Miss Y/L/N over there. She’s quite the hard worker, maybe bring her along. Drinks on us.” The older lady looked at Bucky with a soft smile.

Jamie, no one had called him that since his mom. Country folk and their want for instant closeness. He hardly knew this lady and already she was trying to be endearing, but her forced charm was nothing compared yours even when you weren’t trying. She looked over Bucky’s shoulder at you carrying a stack of heavy wooden crates out of the barn, hardly struggling, but very determined before sliding them back into the truck. Bucky’s eyes followed hers, a small grin of admiration creeping onto his face at your independence and mastery at everything you do, no matter how simple.

“Yeah, hardest worker out there. I’ll see if I can convince her to take a break.” He turned back and walked the lady to her door, opening it for her to get in.

“Drive safely. Hope to see you later Mr. and Mrs. Carter.” He shut the door and made his way back over to your truck. You had already gotten in and started it with the windows down. Bucky slid into the bench seat to be met by you with your forehead resting on the wheel in between your hands. You took a sharp inhale and shot up, putting on a fake smile, albeit less forced than earlier.

“Ready to go meet Curtis? We’ve just gotta touch base with him and then we’re good to be done for the day.”

“Um, yeah. Sounds good.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how to continue with you in that mood. Should be keep talking? Did you prefer the silence to think? The radio was low on the dash, but not silent, so he decided to speak up.

“Did you see who I was helping? They said they own the bar in town. Maybe we can go for a drink tonight? Celebrate a long week done?”

You sighed. Again. “Um, yeah. I actually think that sounds really good. We both need the decompression. TGIF, ya know?” You forced out a small laugh which Bucky returned and he turned forward as you continued the drive back toward your house.

When the two of you entered the farmhouse, your were greeted by Curtis, your weekend farmhand, sitting at the dining room table. He had already helped himself to a glass of sweet tea you kept in the fridge, mainly for him, which was made from your Aunt’s recipe he loved so much.

“Oh, good, you’re back from chores already.” Curtis had been kind enough to come in today to work on some tasks since you and Bucky had your hands full with the market. He usually only worked Saturday and Sunday since this was his second job, but he’d sometimes come in to help extra, like today.

“Bucket, this is Curty b—oh sorry, Curtis. He’s the one that makes sure things run smoothly when I’m not. He’s a whiz at fixing the machinery, perks of him also being the best mechanic in town.”

Bucky warily stepped forward, eyes narrowed, barely noticeable, and shook Curtis’s hand. Who is this guy who let himself into your house? “Bucky is fine, really.”

Curtis let out a chuckle, “nice to meet you, Bucket. It’s ok, I talked to Y/N about making cheese curds once, and she’s called me ‘Curty boi’ ever since.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, looking over his shoulder. You just shrugged with a small smile on your face, already more relaxed and relieved to be inside your home with someone you didn’t feel like you had to put up a front for, that was reassuring. Bucky went into the kitchen to get you both a glass of water as you sat next to Curtis at the table, joined by Bucky sitting across after he handed you your glass. The three of you briefly talked about the chores Curtis had done that day, how the farmer’s market went, and what all needed done that weekend.

Curtis seemed nice, not threatening. The visceral tinge of jealousy left Bucky’s body as the conversation went on. If Curtis was going to make a move, he would’ve done it by now, surely. But the two of you were clearly just close friends. Why did Bucky keep feeling like this?

As you wrapped up, Curtis slapped his knees with both his hands and went to stand. “Well, I better get going, sun’s starting to get pretty low.”

Curtis and Bucky had been getting along pretty well, so you spoke up. “Well actually, Bucky and I were gonna go to the bar in town tonight. Care to join?”

“Yeah, I’d love to. There are just a few things I’ve gotta check on in the shop first, but I can drop by after. Does that work?”

“For sure. We’ll see you then” You and Bucky shared a small smile before you closed the door behind Curtis and turned back to the mob boss standing in your foyer.

“Ok, Cowboy. Good job today. Go take a shower, we’re going out.” Bucky beamed, which you returned, and he felt a warmth bloom in his chest at your praise.

“Yes, ma’am, Miss Honeybee” you smiled and rolled your eyes as he ran up the steps, following behind to get ready, yourself. He was really glad your mood was starting to turn around.

As Bucky went to his room to gather his clothing, his mind started to drift towards why he cared how you felt. He was just here for business, right? So why did it bother him if you were sad? If anything, he should want you vulnerable to help him come out on top of your business, but something deep inside of him felt more satisfaction when you were winning. He shook the thoughts from his head. Maybe a cold shower could help him sort this out.

Bucky came down the stairs and sat on the couch just as he heard your hair dryer start up. He had gotten ready quickly, throwing on one of his henleys, his nicer jeans, and a pair of boots Sam had sent him this week when he had heard about the whole ‘borrowing clothes situation.’

He shot Steve a text, telling him that the two of you were going out to the bar with Curtis, to which he replied Have fun, Bucket😉.

Ugh, why did he have to tell Steve about that, it was never gonna go away now. Bucky had gotten a call from Steve each evening giving updates on the business, with Bucky doing the same on his end, keeping it short, only noting the highlights and trying to keep his emotions in check and out of the updates. His best friend knew better, though, even if Bucky wasn’t fully aware of the extent of his feelings yet.

Bucky got up and walked around, looking through the photos and knick knacks in your living room, before stopping by the mirror behind your front door and checking his appearance. This look wasn’t what he was used to. He was extremely dressed down compared to the designer suit he’d likely be sporting in one of his clubs if he were back in the city. He hadn’t even bothered to gel his hair because it seemed you didn’t care when he did, plus, he wanted to save that valuable product for a real occasion, no use in wasting it to go slum with a bunch of hillbillies. He looked to the coatrack next to the mirror to see a hat that matched his boots perfectly and plopped it on his head, swaying side to side to see how it looked.

Just then, you started to make your way down the stairs but stopped in your tracks seeing Bucky in that hat. His head snapped up to look at you.

“What? Does this hat make me look dumb?”

You smiled and shook your head.

“No, not at all” Bucky could see tears well up in your eyes, accompanied by sparkles of fondness and, sadness?

“That was my uncle’s hat. He taught me everything I know”

“Oh, I’m so sorry” Bucky went to take the hat off but you stopped him.

“No- it’s okay. It looks good on you. Go ahead and wear it out tonight.”

Bucky looked back at you with a somber nod as you continued back down the stairs, taking a deep breath to settle the emotions that had nearly breached the surface.

Even in this state, you looked gorgeous. Hair flouncing in the breeze that was created as you drifted down the steps, wearing makeup he hadn’t seen since the first time you two had met and a sundress that blew him away. You were gorgeous in all states because you were you. Bucky looked down, kicking his feet, to pull his magnetic glance from you. He’s really gotta switch up the power dynamic here, and if there was one place Bucky could feel at home after a week of embarrassing himself, it was a bar. He grabbed the keys and you followed with an eye roll, getting into the passenger seat of your own truck. He didn’t even know where he was going, but he looked at you with a sly grin. Like for the first time, he had the upper hand, and that would only come from being anywhere but on your farm.

Bucky was a good driver, despite his statements about some guy named ‘Gio’ and grumbles about Sam, who you had met once before. Besides that, the drive was filled with laughs reminiscing all the mishaps he went through that week, well, mostly you laughing, and Bucky doing his best to hold a smirk from showing too obviously, his eyes narrowed at you in contrast.

The two of you pulled into town as you pointed Bucky towards a decent-sized building which housed the bar, still nothing compared to what he was used to. The two of you hopped down from the truck and walked through the front door, which jingled, signaling your entrance.

Bucky was greeted by the smell of old wood and stale beer, the dim atmosphere lit with old neon beer signs and fluorescent lights which hung over the pool tables. You looked back at Bucky as you crossed the threshold where he held the door for you.

“Hey, all I’m saying is, I bet you wouldn’t last a week in my world the way I did in yours.”

You rolled your eyes as you sauntered up to the bar, taking a seat at the corner, Bucky next to you, and a few more empty seats to the other side of him that would hopefully stay that way until Curtis came. As the two of you had walked up to the bar, you had seen a bunch of girls groups whose heads turned, seeing the stranger that was Bucky make his way across the floor. Why couldn’t he be ugly? And why did you let him wear that hat? Bucky didn’t even notice. His eyes were only on you, besides his trained peripheral vision catching the eyes of men whose heads turned towards, doing the same.

“Oh please, Bucket, you hardly made it through this week. I’ve never seen anyone cut their finger on wheat before. How did you even do that? You were literally up on the tractor… wheat should not have been anywhere near your hands, yet you came to me with several paper cut-looking marks. And what do you even do all day? Your hands have calluses but a totally different kind. You can hardly toss a hay bale a story high into the barn loft. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for me to just sit at a desk, bark orders, and sign paperwork all day.”

Bucky’s mouth gaped open as he feigned offense and put his hand on his chest.

You flashed a fleeting smile at him in satisfaction as you waved down the

bartender ordering two shots of whiskey and two beers.

“Now just because that’s all you’ve seen me do for work, doesn’t mean that’s all there is to it.”

“Oh really? Please, Bucket, then be my guest…indulge me.”

“Well, if I told you, I’d have to kill you, so take that as one of the common requisites.”

He smirked at you, obviously more comfortable in this bar environment before your phone dinged and it was a message from Curtis.

Hey Y/N. So sorry, something came up at the shop. Rain check?

Yeah, no problem. Hope all is good, see you tomorrow?

Yep! Ty

“Well, looks like Curty boi isn’t joining us, so it’s just you and me, Bucko”

At that moment, the bartender set down the drinks in front of you and you and Bucky took a shot together, ordering an appetizer sampler platter to go with your drinks.

As the two of you nursed your beers, you joked more about Bucky’s farm mishaps and talked about all the men you had turned down from Bucky’s organization to get him out here.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I don’t know how you turned down both Sam and Steve. I’m hardly immune to their charms some days”

You laughed and threw your head back. “It’s not easy. They’ve both got these puppy dog eyes they make when I say ‘no’ to them, but they seemed pretty satisfied with the fact I wanted to see you in person.”

“And why exactly was that? You never quite said”

“Well, at first, it started as a way to delay the deal, but then I realized, if I’m going to be making some major changes to somewhere I consider a sanctuary, I wanna make sure it’s with the right partner” you nudged him with your elbow playfully and Bucky gave you a small grin. “But honestly, if I’m going to do something these days, I wanna do it at the source. I hate hearing important news from third parties, I mean, you’ve seen how I do business. It’s all me at the end of the day. Sure, Curtis helps out, but otherwise, it’s better to deal with things on my own and a few trusted people” you finished that statement breathless from your heated ramble. This didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky at all. Where did that come from? At first, to him, you were just another bug to be squashed in order to get more control over his industry, but did he care now? Did he truly care about what was upsetting you? What caused that hurt you were obviously tampering down? Does this have to do with Jakey?

Bucky hadn’t realized he said that last part out loud until you responded.

“No! Well, maybe? Like, sort of?”

“Can I ask? Can I ask what happened there? Only if you want to share”

“Um… yeah, sure, I guess. You’ve embarrassed yourself enough this week so I think you’ve earned this a little bit.”

You took a deep breath and began. “Jake and I grew up together. We met in kindergarten in school and were instantly close. We were the only two gifted kids in class, so the teacher sent us to the side for extra lessons while the rest of the class learned with her. From that point on, we were inseparable. Two smart little twerps who took on the world together, but our lives were so different. In middle school, I started to take on more responsibility on the farm and he started getting into computers, but we’d still see each other. In high school we started officially dating, and I was so happy to be with someone who I felt like intellectually got me. I think it was the same way for him, too. He’d crack such nerdy jokes, and no one got them but me”

You smiled nostalgically at the memory. “When our senior year came along and my uncle wasn’t doing that well, I applied to more local schools, but he didn’t. We had always talked about going off to college and living together, but he wanted that life to be far away from here, and I had obligations. I got into the local college on a full ride for agriculture and civil engineering, and he decided he’d rather go to MIT for computer science. I asked if he’d be willing to stay since he got into college around here, too, but he said he wanted to be around people who were ‘more like-minded to him.’ As if we hadn’t been the only ones who had understood each other for over a decade.”

Bucky gave you a sullen look as your head fell and you looked down at your hands. He signaled to the bartender for a water and two more rounds of shots.

“I just, I just didn’t understand how he could act like that after so long. So I asked him when he was leaving so I could see him off. We were still friends, after all, but he left without a word. When I saw him again over Christmas break that winter, I felt like he had turned into some overweening, highfalutin, jerkwad. I didn’t really know him anymore, and I had enough to focus on already, so I just kinda stopped talking to him. As you could see today, his mom still comes around, but it’s not really the same. I don’t think she ever really truly saw the way he changed, she’s too caught up in having a son who lives in Silicon Valley now, but apparently he still asks for stuff from the farmers markets.” You shrugged and thanked the bartender for the shots, pounding all four before you excused yourself to the restroom, leaving Bucky to sit there shocked.

He had known where you went to college and how smart you are, but things like what happened with Jake don’t show up on paper. However he clocked you before, you were even stronger than that, because despite how you were hurt, you still wore your heart in your sleeve and showed compassion to everyone around.

You washed your face and looked in the mirror. Sure, that experience with Jake sucked, but it’s been years and you were over it now. Didn’t mean it was fun to relive it all. You decided to go into one of the stalls, the alcohol already kicking in and making you have to pee. You sat down and that’s when you saw it: blood. So that’s the reason for the waterworks all day today. That’s why you felt so tired and couldn’t help tearing up at the slightest things. Luckily the girl in the stall next to you had some products. You cleaned up and washed your hands, forcing a smile in the mirror until it became real, honestly relieved at having a reason for your out-of-character behavior. You headed back out to Bucky in a much more chipper mood and he looked up at you with a quirked brow. He figured you’d taken the time you needed. He was appreciative of you being so open with him, and wasn’t going to question the switch-up since he was just so happy to see you being yourself again after a long day.

“Up for a game of pool, cowboy?”

“Oh, you’re signing up to lose, Honeybee”

“Ok, ok, best four out of seven” Bucky whined as you giggled, whiskey shots catching up to you as you held another beer bottle in your hand. Bucky was hardly affected, he essentially rocked this much alcohol in his system by noon on a daily basis. Just then, his phone rang, and he motioned to show you it was Steve. You gave him a thumbs up and started to rack the balls to set up for the next game.

You watched Bucky walk out the door as you felt a presence looming behind you. You turned around and stood up, eyes tracing up a body dressed in brown hues until you reached a set of blue eyes shaded by a cowboy hat brim.

“Oh, howdy, can I help you?”

“I sure hope so. Can I get you a drink? Two whiskey sours” the stranger yelled over to the bar.

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“My name’s Cole, Cole Turner. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”

He was handsome, there was no denying that, but something seemed off. You plastered your best fake smile on your face. You didn’t need a confrontation tonight, not in your favorite dress. You didn’t want to taint the memory of it because of some rando. Wait. Was he a rando? Where have you heard the name ‘Turner’ before? Before you could continue your train of thought, a waiter came over with your drinks. They were very sweet compared to what you’d had all night, just like his demeanor, which seemed like a thin veil over the surface. You tried to channel your drink’s energy into your words to sweetly reply until you could properly remember who he was through your alcohol-fogged mind.

“Oh, I’m not here alone. I’m here with a friend”

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I don’t see anyone around. You up for a game?”

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he grabbed a pool cue and made a move to break. After that, he was keeping a little too close to you constantly. You did your best to stay kind, but must’ve been sending the wrong signals as he asked you “You wanna get out of here? I’ve got a hotel room down the road.”

In an attempt to change the subject you asked “Oh, so you’re not from around here? What are you doing in town?” Looking towards the door hoping Bucky would be done with his update any minute now.

“Ah, I used to live around here. My family owns a string of dairy farms. I’m here to try and convince these small-town farmers to give up the land.”

Your eyes went wide. Luckily you were facing away from him. He was that Cole Turner. The one whose family ran a packaged beverage empire and prided themselves on squashing the little guy. You were lucky he didn’t seem to recognize you yet, as the last remaining competitor in town. The one he had probably come in to squash. Just then, lost in thought, you felt a hand snake around your waist and you flinched.

“Relax, Honeybee, it’s just me” Bucky whispered in your ear. Your shoulders visibly relaxed as you turned around and threw your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. You pulled away, but not enough for Bucky’s hand to leave your waist, and looked between the two men, grabbing Bucky’s hat and placing it on your head immediately.

“Uh, James, this is Cole. He’s visiting town.”

Bucky reached out his hand Cole shook it. Cole took a large step back after, respecting the hat on your head, and, was he intimidated by Bucky’s stature? Sensing your discomfort, Bucky spoke up. “Nice to meet you. Shame we’re heading out now.”

You grabbed Bucky’s hand, not looking back, and headed straight to the door as quickly as your numb, wobbly legs would take you. Once you were met by the cool, crisp night air, you sighed in relief and rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Thank you for helping me get out of there”

He shuddered at your proximity and the comfort you felt in this type of contact. It felt natural and he never wanted it to stop. With a soft smile and a glance at the top of the hat, he said, “No problem, Honeybee. Let’s get home.”

He helped you get up into the cab of the truck, sliding you across the bench seat before he got in and started it up.

“So what was the deal with the hat? And that guy?”

You yawned and stretched, settling in against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Uh, when a girl takes a guy’s hat and puts it on her head, it means she’s going home with him. And don’t worry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted that guy to get off my back. We can talk more about that later.”

You wiggled to get more comfortable, your hand still in Bucky’s as he used the other to steer the truck down the old country roads. Your eyes fluttered shut as you fell asleep on him. His eyes flickered between you and the road in the headlights ahead. He luckily had a good sense of direction and was able to remember how to get home from your instructions earlier.

When he pulled into your gravel driveway, your were sound asleep, softly snoring, drool having dripped onto his Henley, but he didn’t mind at all. He lifted you out of the truck and carried you up the steps, taking off your boots before tucking you into bed for the night.

Next >

Bonus A/N: so where I’m from, “Turner’s” really is a beverage empire and they make really good products. I just figured I can’t make a farm AU without putting Cole in it, no matter how inaccurate to character.

Series taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

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junebugwriter · 9 months

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(Art by @Ban62460424 on twitter)

Ok I gotta get emotional on this one for a bit because. Well cmon

We all know sylveon is the trans pokemon. We all know it! I'm just going to say it!

But this comic SPECIFICALLY is so endearing to me.

Sylveon only evolves when you raise an eevee's happiness high enough. If that pokemon is loved well enough, you know it's going to become a sylveon.

The trainer. Gives them. A CHOICE. And the choice makes them so happy they evolve!!!!!!1

I've named all my eevee's Elliot (because it is known that Elliot is one of our most cherished Names). I always take Elliot with me to the end boss run. He's just. So important to me.

I'm a trans woman. I only came to the realization at age 35 (what can I say, I'm a late bloomer). I had to leave a profession I loved, move across the country, and get to a place where I was healthy enough to BE HAPPY. I had finally gotten on the right cocktail of antidepressants to get my depression and anxiety under control. And then one night, it hits me. Like a bolt from the blue, I'm happy enough, stable enough, healthy enough to realize there was still something off with me. And it was then that I allowed myself to interrogate my gender identity.

People can say a lot about trans folks. The truth is, I had to CHOOSE to see the truth. I had to choose to allow myself to ask the questions. And then I had to choose to go to therapy. And then I had to choose to actually transition. Big choices, ones that come with countless consequences. But I chose. And I'm happy enough to do so.

I am my own sylveon. I had to be happy enough to evolve.

#transgender #blog #lgbtqia+#lgbtq #trans #dysphoria #transition #transfemme #pokemon #sylveon #art

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theweeklydiscourse · 10 months

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The Darkling decided early on how much he would disclose to Alina about his plans for the coup based on a conversation they had on the way to the palace.

I like to look back at this scene from Shadow and Bone that takes place after Alina was seconds away from being killed by a Fjerdan assassin. She denies that she is Grisha, pointing to her plain and scrawny appearance for proof of her certainty and Aleksander responds with a remark about how Alina doesn’t understand what being Grisha even means.

It’s a telling scene because it shows just how surface-level Alina’s view of Grisha is. To her, Grisha are shiny, beautiful and strong and they are prioritized over the common folk soldiers she once belonged with. Of course, Aleksander knows that there is so much more to being Grisha than just beauty, but realizes that there’s so much to unpack with Alina’s statement he doesn’t even know where to start.

This exchange explains one of the reasons why he didn’t disclose his true plans to Alina, much less his ultimate secret. If Alina has such a shallow understanding of Grisha identity, she will also have a shallow understanding of just how much is at stake in this conflict. Alina is no ordinary Grisha, so it hasn’t quite sunk in that she has skin in the game and is more significant than she realizes. Her denial of her Grisha identity (despite obvious evidence proving otherwise) Alina is staunch in her assertion that she is just a normal girl. It is that same denial that tells Aleksander that Alina cannot be viewed as reliable just yet, time needs to be taken to teach her a better understanding of the Grisha first.

This next exchange is the second reason why Aleksander doesn’t tell her. Though Alina herself may not have said that superstition out loud, it still demonstrates how Alina was exposed to those views during her formative years. It raises his suspicion that Alina may hold some remnants of the Serf’s ideas and perhaps compels him to think ahead to assess if this could grow into a potential threat. He ABSOLUTELY cannot tell her the truth anytime soon if there is even the slightest possibility that she believes that he’s soulless and “truly evil”. If Alina snitched on him, his entire operation could be shut down for good and set the Grisha back decades. Not to mention the fact that it could get a lot of Grisha killed.

“You didn’t hurt his feelings.” Dear Reader, this was only the beginning of Alina denying Aleksander’s humanity in order to avoid taking responsibility for her prejudice and to avoid the complex reality of the situation. You can almost hear the incorrect answer buzzer go off in Aleksander’s mind as Alina tells him her answer, I can almost feel his pure disappointment through the page.

Because Aleksander poses an important question that reveals one of Alina’s central conflicts that will continue throughout the trilogy. Alina is still deeply uncomfortable with the idea of Grisha powers after spending her life among people who call them unnatural and strange. To the point that it wasn’t just the fact that the assassin was sliced in two that bothered her, but because of the magic that sliced him. Why on earth would he trust her with his greatest secret when she reacts with such hesitation? He was testing her to gauge how long it would be before Alina could be trusted as an ally to Grisha and received an answer that told him it might take a while. If Alina can’t handle her the idea of her own powers, she cannot be trusted with a secret that could determine the future of Ravka.

I don’t know about you, but I fully believe that Aleksander had every intention of telling Alina the truth, it’s just that prioritizing his personal relationship with her over the safety of his people was a risk he couldn’t take. This gets a bit muddled later on because Alina’s narration seems to care more about her personal feelings of betrayal than the consequences this plan could have on the country. She never takes a moment to look at the bigger picture and consider the consequences of her reckless actions.

I know that I’m just breaking the scene down and explaining what’s happening in it, but it truly is such an informative scene that hints at a potentially fascinating storyline.

#shadow and bone #lb critical #s&b critical #alina starkov #s&b netflix #s&b salt #the darkling #darklina #aleksander morovoza #pro darkling #grishaverse meta #ruin and rising #shadow and bone season 2 #aleksander morozova #anti leigh bardugo #anti shadow and bone #close reading

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cheeseburgersinparadise · 26 days

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hi again!!!!

Donate.

I want to boost a fundraiser going on right now that’s attempting to raise money for gender affirming care. I’m sure a lot of ppl know Mercury Stardust aka the Trans Handy Ma’am, who has done incredible work for trans and gnc folks all over the country. Last year she did a 52 city book tour and had the bravery to go to ultra conservative states to spread her message and share her book, “Safe and Sound” (which teaches people how to fix things around their house!!).

She and other trans/queer folks are attempting to raise 4 million dollars for gender affirming care in only a few days. She recently posted and stated that they have been banned from tik tok live because people (fucking transphobes) kept reporting the page for fraud.

Please donate if you can. It would be a huge victory if they managed to get to 4 million despite these challenges and would show that there are PLENTY of people who care about and want to protect trans folks at at a time where this country is doing its best to erase them.

If you donate, send me a screenshot of the amount. Anything over 5 dollars and I will write you a short drabble of your choice (if you want something in return.)

Donate here.

#personal chub #transgender #gender affirming care #mercury stardust #tik tok #trans healthcare #signal boost

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ailithnight · 1 year

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After this chapter, I will no longer be doing a taglist. Sorry folks, there's just too many of y'all and I'm on mobile. Please subscribe on AO3 for updates, or follow the tag A King in Arkham.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 4

AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Danny. I understand you don't want to go with your godfather. Is there a reason for that?

Can't go with Vlad!

If you know something we don't about him, you need to tell us. Otherwise he will win custody.

It's.. He'll.. he'll make me.. turn me.. his fault!

What's his fault, Danny?

His fault. All his. All.. My.. no, my fault. It's all my fault...

Danny?

IT'S MY FAULT! I KILLED THEM! ALL DEAD! Because of me...

Now Danny, I'm sure that's not true. What happened at the Nasty Burger-

I made it happen.

Corporate negligence-

He knew. I knew. Dan knew what would happen. Dan made it happen. He knew the sauce was gonna blow. He knew Lancer would arrange the meeting there. He cheated. He lured them there. He bound them up so they couldn't escape and ran the time out until they exploded! Dan did that and Dan was me, so I did that.

Daniel...?

I murdered them. I murdered everyone.

Da-

IT'S ALL MY FAU- *static*

Tim started talking after the audio cut to static.

"What you just heard is the last, partially recovered therapy session of Danny's in Chicago. The cameras were beyond salvaging. No one except Danny knows what happened after the audio cuts. What is known is that nearby witnesses heard what they claim sounded like a 'screaming moan' coming from the therapy room. When doctors and staff went to check; the therapist Mrs. Alders was slumped against the wall, appearing to have been forcefully pushed, with minor head trauma. Danny was curled up on the other side of the room, panicking and muttering about a Dan.

While Mrs. Alders mostly recovered from the incident, she does not know how she ended up slammed against the wall. Once this audio was recovered, it was turned over to the police. Given the severity of the... confession... in conjunction with the apparent assault, the courts decided to move Danny to an asylum for the criminally insane." Tim paused in the debrief, letting the information sink in. After a moment, Duke raised his hand. Jason scoffed at the action.

"This ain't kindergarten kid, say your bit."

"I just, that explains why an asylum in general. But why Arkham?" Tim nodded, pulling up a picture of a document.

"Kid's godfather, business tycoon and multimillionaire, Vlad Masters. Insisted that if his godson should have to go to an asylum, he'll go to the- and I quote- 'Best in the country.' Made a deal with the state that he'll foot the bill while he continues fighting for custody. Apparently didn't do his research enough to know that 'Best Known' and 'Best' are not the same." Bruce had the next question.

"So, Master's doesn't have custody yet?"

"Nope." Tim popped his 'p', pulling up more documents. Investigative reports. "Given Danny's reactions to him, CPS started investigating. Found a lot of shady shit. Narcissism, anger issues, control issues, coercion tactics.

One agent said he tried to bribe her with a rather large sum of money, which she might have taken if she wasn't well enough off from a family inheritance and mostly doing this work for the kids. Of course, same agent also said he had 'Rancid vibes' and 'tried to posses' her, but her 'Grammy's necklace protected her' so her credibility was deemed iffy.

Still, there's enough there that it's unlikely Masters will be able to gain custody any time soon. So if Gotham's favorite serial adopter with a good track record for helping troubled kids, Brucie Wayne, were to step in..." Tim's smirk is infectious and makes its way around the table. Bruce's lips twitch ver briefly into a fond smile, before dropping back into a frown.

"What do you make of the... confession?" Jason doesn't even try to hold in his groan.

"Seriously, B? It was survivor's guilt or some kind of psychotic episode or something." Damian frowns.

"I would not discredit him so quickly, Hood. After all, his ghosts are real apparently."

"Hnn." Bruce gets that look on his face. The almost constipated frown that means he is going to have to do something unpleasant like host a gala or attend a business meeting or, "I will have to call Constantine to verify what the entity we are dealing with is."

Jason lets out a gleeful snort. "Have fun with that one, B. In the mean time can I go break our kid out yet or what?"

"Actually, Hood," Jason turns a glare on Tim, who is once again holding his hands up placatingly. "That still leaves us with the issue of making him an escapee and you an accomplice."

"Well fuckin Brucie Wayne can't exactly just walk up to Arkham and ask if they've got any blue eyed black haired boys for him to adopt."

"Not exactly what I'm suggesting here." Batman sighs.

"What are you suggesting." Tim pulls out a case he had tucked under the desk, a truly devious smirk painted across his face.

"Just a little temporary theft. Only long enough to put the kid's face on the news for Brucie to stumble across." He opens the case, sliding it over to Jason. Inside, a replica of a relic from Tim's own past; resized to fit his bigger, broader brother. "You remember Red X, don't you?"

The green that had been tinting Jason's vision the whole meeting finally subsides, giving way to wicked mirth.

"Oh, hell yes."

Batman sighs.

"You don't get it do you? I'm still here. I still exist. That means you still turn into me."

Another night, another nightmare of a memory jolting Danny back into the waking world. His chest is tight, a high whine suppressing itself in the back of his throat. Danny's eyes dart around his room, searching for the shadowy void of his most frequent visitor. But Spectra isn't there tonight. She hasn't come back since she was seen by Banana Bat.

It's strange. Danny had gotten used to waking up with her there, towering over him, shadowy clawed hand resting somewhere on his body as she feasted on his misery. He didn't mind, really. He had plenty to give and she didn't even rough him up too bad. Just enough to keep the psyches concerned. The last 3 days without her presence had been... not lonely. Danny was already lonely. But emptier. Like the one good thing his continued existence was doing for someone had been ripped away.

Truly, Danny felt he had nothing left in this world. Nothing to give, nothing to gain. But he couldn't die. Couldn't unleash full ghost Phantom on the world again. That's what created Dan. No, this was what he had to give. All he had to give. To stay human so that Dan never becomes ghost. To live, as the least burden he could be, so that Dan never died.

Clockwork must have known what would happen if Danny fully died. That must be why he spared him. The Observants sentenced Danny to death. But Clockwork was smarter. He sentenced Danny to life. And really, it's such a small price to pay for the sins of his other self.

Despite what the others say, Arkham isn't hell. The only issue Danny's had was the clown and that's not really anyone's fault. It's just, Danny looked at the Joker and he saw Freakshow. And he saw that stupid staff. And he heard that grating laugh. And all he could think about was how that was the only thing that could still turn him into Dan. If the clown took control again. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't! Not becoming a Dan, not becoming a problem; that's all he could do now! He couldn't he couldn't he couldn't...

Danny was broken out of his spiraling thoughts by the now familiar buzzing echoing clanging sound of another break out. He closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Then, suddenly, he was lifted up, hoisted onto someone's shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"Damn kid, do you weigh anything?"

Danny's eyes flew open, his body subconsciously tensed for a fight Danny wouldn't actually fight. The voice, clearly modulated, sounded high and breezy. His head turned to look at the person now forcefully evicting him from his room. Black body suit. White mask. Red slashes in a stylized X. Built like his Dad... Danny had no idea who this was.

For a moment, Danny felt a twinge of fear. He had no idea who this was. They obviously weren't with Arkham. They had just stolen him from his room and, holy shit they were flying now. No. Not flying, grappling. And running. Moving very fast towards the exit. With Danny. For unknown reasons.

Holy shit, someone was kidnapping a teenager from an insane asylum. That, probably wasn't good. Any normal or sane person would be scared for their health and wellbeing. But, well... Danny was hardly normal. And sane was becoming increasingly questionable.

And this guy, well he didn't trigger Danny's ghost sense. No chilly breath escaping his mouth. So he was human, not a ghost. It's not like a human could kill Danny. Not with his ghostly healing factor. Sure, they could make his life a living hell. Beat him, violate him, enslave him. But a human couldn't turn him into Dan so... Danny doesn't think he really cares.

"Um, why are you carrying me?"

"Taking you out of here."

"Clearly, I meant why?"

"Owe someone a favor." That was mildly concerning. Danny could think of one person who would stoop to this.

"Did Vlad send you?"

"Master's? Nope. He couldn't afford my services."

"Oh. Okay." As long as it wasn't Vlad. They were almost to the main gate now. There was screaming behind them, now. Danny loomed behind them as the person grappled up the wall and vaulted them over. Danny caught the barest glimpse of the twink in a burlap sack mask striding out the door, leaving a noxious cloud in his wake.

Then they're gone, grappling to then moving across rooftops. It's not a bad feeling. Kinda fun even. Flying as a ghost was nice. Really nice. But different from this. Gravity literally didn't touch you if you didn't want it too. But this? Danny could feel the pull of the earth, the force of every swing. Gravity was still there, exerting its influence, but they were defying it.

For a tiny moment, Danny felt the ghost of a smile on his lips. The good feeling was fleeting, like all his feelings these days. But it was there and it was enough to shock a small "Oh." from Danny.

"Oh what, runt?"

"Nothing, just. Never grappled before. S'nice."

"Oh." It was such a soft thing, Danny once more found himself pondering the intentions of his kidnapper.

"Do I get to know where we're going?"

"Safe house for the night. I'm your baby sitter."

"And tomorrow?"

"We'll see."

"...Okay."

The next morning, Vicki Vale stumbles across the story of her career (so far) sitting dazed and confused in her office. A prepubescent boy in an oversized Arkham uniform? The day after a breakout where Scarecrow and only one other inmate escaped? Oh this is bound to sell.

Okay, I know the show pretty heavily implies that Teen Titans Robin us Dick.

But

What if it was Tim?

#A King in Arkham #DP x DC #my writing #will taglist later #bedtime

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riality-check · 11 months

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even more daisy jones-adjacent things. parts 1, 2, 3, and 4. tw mentions of substance abuse, talks of blacking out. part 6. part 7.

ao3

It hits number five.

The song about losing, the song Steve helped write, the song with Steve's vocals, hits number five. It's the highest Corroded Coffin has ever gotten on a chart, and it's the highest Steve Harrington has, too.

They're ecstatic, Chrissy is smug, and the record company offers an album.

If, and only if, Steve Harrington continues to work with Corroded Coffin.

Eddie scared himself by saying "yes" first and scared himself even more by agreeing with Steve. But, he reasons, if they're going to be writing an album together, he needs to get the hell over himself.

Easier said than done, but Eddie has always had an "A for effort" kind of mindset.

He's always been the one writing most of the songs. He's always been the one with too many words in his head, always itching for a pen, always thinking in terms of guitar tabs and staff notation when Archie is feeling especially pretentious. Eddie has always done most of it, which has always worked. Jeff helps with lyrics because "I need to make sure you won't make me say anything stupid," Gareth has no interest beyond writing his own drum parts, and Archie, despite knowing the most formal music theory of any of them, doesn't care beyond cleaning it up.

But Eddie needs to write with someone now, and he realizes very quickly that he can't work with someone he hates, or, worse, barely knows.

"Let's play a game," he says, setting down his guitar and kicking his feet up on the couch. He and Steve have long since abandoned writing in the studio and instead decided that Steve's house - a little stucco bungalow with a pool and other cars always in the driveway - would make for a better venue.

Steve scowls when he sees Eddie's feet on the couch, but he stops humming to himself and starts paying attention. "What kind of game?"

"Truth or truth."

"Don't you mean truth or dare?"

"Nope," Eddie says. "Truth or truth. I ask a question, you answer it honestly, then I have to answer my own question. Then you ask, I answer, you answer. Rinse repeat, you get the drill."

"How do you win?" Steve asks, looking up at Eddie from where he sits on the floor.

"You win if you ask a question the other person refuses to answer."

"Sounds like I can just give up as soon as you ask."

"You could," Eddie admits. "But where's the fun in that?"

A tiny, barely-there smile pops up on Steve's face, and that's how Eddie knows he's starting to get somewhere.

Yeah. He's on edge around Steve. He thinks that anyone in his position would be. But Steve is admittedly impressive and mysterious and pretty, and all of that calls to Eddie's lesser instinct to push.

So, the game starts. They exhaust the run of the mill questions fairly quickly; Eddie learns that Steve's favorite color is sapphire, that he used to babysit and lifeguard, that he's from some podunk town in Indiana that he doesn't seem too keen on sharing more about. Eddie, in turn, says that his favorite color is ruby, that he used to work as a mechanic and thought about doing tattoos, that he's from a lot of different places all around Appalachia but the simpler answer is "born in West Virginia, raised in Kentucky."

"Shouldn't you make country music or something, then?" Steve asks.

"Folk's more applicable," Eddie says. "And I grew up listening to it, but I need to make something a little more... all-encompassing."

"I wouldn't say metal's very general."

"No, but when you listen to it, you can't think of anything else but the sound, can you?"

Steve considers for a moment, then nods wordlessly. "Your question."

Eddie thinks. He stares at Steve's twitchy hands, his exhausted face, his slumped posture. And he asks, in direct opposition to his better judgement, "When's the last time you slept?"

He watches, in real time, as Steve's face completely shutters.

But that only lasts an instant. The complete fall, the shut-down, lasts a fraction of a second before Steve completely shifts. He sits up taller, brushes his hair back from his forehead, and looks more alert, less fidgety.

He sobers up, right there in front of Eddie, or at least he pretends to.

"That's a boring question," he says. "Last night."

"You're supposed to answer honestly," Eddie reminds him.

"I am. I slept last night. Seven hours."

Eddie bites his tongue to stave off his instinctual, No, you didn't.

"You're supposed to answer your question now," Steve says once the silence has stretched too long.

"Same as you," Eddie says. "Last night."

Steve scoots closer toward the couch. There's a smug smile on his face, one that Eddie doesn't particularly like.

He thinks he might need a cigarette.

Then, Steve asks, "When's the last time you drank?"

Yeah. Eddie's definitely going to need a cigarette by the time this conversation ends.

"Two years ago," he says because if Steve won't be honest, he will. "August. Indianapolis. I was blacked out. I don't remember anything until halfway through the show the next day. Gareth says he thought about dragging my ass offstage because I was too far gone to tune my guitar until after the first three songs."

The smile melts off Steve's face the more Eddie talks. If Eddie were a better person, he wouldn't find such joy in that.

Eddie isn't a better person. Steve isn't, either.

"Eddie, I-"

"Answer your own question."

"A week ago," Steve says. "I was out celebrating Robin's birthday. Honest."

Eddie believes him. Really, he does. But he's a little bit vindictive, and because Steve shoved him, he has to shove back harder.

"What are you running from?" he asks.

Steve goes completely still. "What?"

Eddie doesn't bother explaining. He knows that if he brings up the way Steve is always a little not here, the way he's fidgety and always too warm, the way he always wears something with pockets that he sticks his hands in, that Steve won't say anything at all.

So, he says again, "What are you running from?"

"I'm not running from anything," Steve says.

"I think I win the game."

Steve scrubs a hand down his face. "Sure. Whatever. But answer your own question."

"Monsters," Eddie says because he's honest.

Steve raises his eyebrows. "You have no idea what monsters are, Eddie."

"Is that what you're running from?"

Steve stares at him again. Eddie watches his hands move in his pockets.

"I need a cigarette," he says, standing up. "You want one?"

Steve shakes his head. "I don't smoke. It stains my teeth."

Eddie walks outside before he pushes further, says something about the fact that Steve is doing way worse than cigarettes and cares more about his teeth than staying alive.

What the hell is he running from?

Eddie hates himself for wanting to find out.

#ria writes #dja au #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #rockstar eddie munson #tw drugs #tw substance abuse

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starwarmth · 1 year

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i feel like other countries often make fun of americans for claiming heritage because it doesn’t “count” but they don’t understand the natural, day-to-day displacement. your ancestors come from somewhere and the minute you want to connect because you’re everything and nothing, so you decide you want to be everything rather than nothing, everyone has cruel things to say to you and how your family’s history doesn’t matter. that it’s your citizenship that matters, even though your history and your neighbor’s history are completely different. me and my neighbor can bond over our shared citizenship, and we do. but we can’t bond over a shared history, because his people come from india and wales and turkey and korea, and the neighbor next to him has ancestors from bulgaria and nigeria and your people are both irish and ashkenazi. maybe you don’t know them, because they assimilated, or were stolen, or left their past behind. but you are them, and you want to know them, because you came from somewhere, from someone, and you want to feel a connection.

you want a family.

a lot of the american experience is displacement, i feel, unless you’re native american, and you’re STILL displaced because this is your land, the land of your people, and it was taken from you.

and folks could say “okay then go to the place of your ancestors” but you’re not like your ancestors anymore, because they left. you’re american now, you grew up in america, with a set of values, dialect, jokes, understandings, that all are related to the specific region in which you were raised. but that doesn’t mean that you appeared out of the blue, with nothing and no one attached to you. you still have vestiges, and you want to know them.

because, being american, there’s the choice of being either everything or nothing. and everyone wants you to be nothing, because how can you be everything. it’s very easy, in some strange way, to be everything. because someone fell in love with another and had a child and to them that child was everything. and it feels wrong to say that you’re nothing, because then those people who had a past, who raised you and loved you, who made you everything—then they were nothing. and they weren’t nothing.

#musings

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year

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The way that a person's individual experiences of diaspora into the West can color their interpretation of three Jedi's collective and individual responses to outsiders asking about their planet of origin.

Oh my god I just. This is going to be very American-immigrant of me but listen.

The inherent trauma of being raised as part of a diaspora population without a fixed, concentrated community in an area that strives to have you conform and assimilate, bleaching yourself of all cultural roots. The desperation to cling to a home, an origin, because of how untethered the average White person is, in places like the US and Canada and Australia, so if you have any knowledge of a Home Country you cling to it. That kneejerk "I am not one of you, I may pass as 'normal' but I am foreign, I am Other, I am not you" that exists for those of us who immigrated young but were raised in the Home Culture, inasmuch as our parents could manage.

Many Americans cannot fathom the idea of not taking pride in Where You Come From. So many are unmoored in that sense, and substitute pride in their City or State, with cultural histories that are so much shorter. So many can't process the idea that balancing Where You Come From with Where You Are as anything other than an act of survival in the face of violence, because for so many, that Pride In Cultural Background is something that was stripped away generations ago, willingly or not.

(I can't speak for all, especially not non-white folks, but I'm sure there are related-but-different takes.)

So the idea that the Jedi can prioritize "I am a Jedi" over "I am from This Specific Planet" and it not be an act of violence or survival is unfathomable to people who cling so strongly to things like... dna ancestry tests and the barest fragments of what they can collect.

And I'm obviously coming at this from the perspective of someone who loves the Jedi, who fully believes in their specific messages and ideals, who trusts that they do do their best to keep their members tethered to their home cultures (Ahsoka's hunt on Shili, Barriss and Luminara's tattoos, Depa's piercings), but that the Jedi still prioritize "I am a Jedi" as their culture.

But. I think that, a lot of the time, when I see a Jedi take offense to "okay, but where are you from?" questions in fic, it hits a weird button to me, because... there are definitely real-world communities for whom that's a hot-button question, an insult, an act of racism, of Othering. Whereas my experience has always been excitement to share that no, I'm not from here, thank you for asking. Thank you for noticing that my name is Not This.

Is it different for human Jedi than it is for twi'leks? For Jedi of the galactic majority instead of an oppressed class? To what extent does a fic writer's relationship with the experience of diaspora impact this aspect of the Jedi, and how they react to other's questions of their origins?

(Please engage in good faith and be polite, thank you.)

#Jedi #pro Jedi #Phoenix Talks #united states #America #culture #diaspora #emigration

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azulock · 4 months

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Day ten is here and so is the one theme that got a 100 vote poll stuck at nearly 50/50. So here is Oliver's version of the theme, dinner with his folks. Love that Oli is just a bunch of nationalities stacked in an overcoat - what with his dad being Sweden and German and his mom Japanese. I very much headcanon that he can speak Swedish (and English) he just doesn't boast about it.

summary. when Oliver's parents move back to Sweden, he sees a chance to take you for a visit his birth country for the holidays. And though you feel excited to meet his family, you can't deny you feel a little anxious too. But your worries quickly melt away when you get to witness where he takes his affectionate ways from.

pairing. Oliver Aiku x Fem!Reader

wordcount. 787 words

10. Family Christmas Dinner - Oliver Aiku

"I find it so cute that your parents moved to Europe after you came to live here," you beamed, making Oliver chuckle as he walked hand in hand with you.

"Eh, I mean, I think dad probably missed Sweden too, so I guess I was just an excuse," he shrugged, pulling you through the snowy streets as you walked towards his parents' home.

"Come on, it's still adorable that you all are in such good terms," you chirped, before a moment of hesitation took over you. "I hope they like me."

"Pffft, they are pretty easy to get along with, so it's nothing special," Oliver said, stopping to give a short kiss on your lips before climbing the steps to the front door. "And I know they are gonna like you, don't worry. Oh, yeah, if it looks like my dad is angry, just disregard it, that's his neutral expression, it's just the German in him."

He kissed your lips again before you could voice any other protest, finger pressing the doorbell before your faces parted. The silence of the small street made the low chime sound loud in your ears, only heightening your anticipation. In a few seconds, you heard the door unlocking, your hand gripping Oliver's tight as it swung open.

You had already seen the couple before you in pictures and videos, but it was never the same as seeing someone in person. They welcomed you both at the door with the brightest smiles, quickly ushering you in and away from the cold. When the door locked behind you, Oliver let go of your hand and embraced his father, exchanging greetings in Swedish - a language you rarely got to hear him speak.

It was sweet, to see how clearly they loved each other, but you weren't given much time to think about it, as his mother quickly pulled you into a hug, greeting you in an excited tone, and chastising her son for not introducing you properly. Quickly, though, your positions switched - Oliver's mother raising on the tip of her toes to wrap her arms around her son as his father brought you into a hug. They were both as warm as the inside of their home, and you could clearly see where Oliver's penchant for physical affection came from.

Matter of fact, looking at it now, you could see a lot of him on them. Oliver towered over his mother, and was also taller than his father, whose face he'd clearly inherited, though he had his mother's beautiful hair. Still, the most endearing thing was how he had the eyes from both - a gift given to him by the rare luck of being born with heterochromia.

Oliver pulled the gifts you'd both bought from the bag, which his parents quickly placed at the foot of the sparsely decorated tree - a Swedish thing, he'd explained to you, they were pretty minimalist about holiday decorations. They waved off opening the neatly wrapped boxes to another time, ushering you towards the dining room, Oliver's mom pulling you by the hand with the familiarity of someone who'd known you your whole life.

You sat at the table, ate, and chatted, and it warmed your heart to see how much they loved their son, and how they welcomed you in as if you were their own. Oliver's mother showed interest in your work and hobbies, while his father commented on your planned visit to see the Gävle Goat and bonded with you over pestering his son by calling him Tsubasa - to which Oliver protested, claiming you were both ganging up on him. It was easy and nice, and by the end of dinner, you were doing the dishes together, while his parents waited in the living room.

"See, I told you they'd love you," Oliver hummed, dual colored eyes turning towards you.

"Yeah, yeah," you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. "Tho, knowing you, I bet they've never even seen you bring any other woman."

"Meh, better like that" he shrugged, bringing his face close to yours and brushing his nose affectionately against your own. "They don't need to know all the frogs I kissed before one of them turned out to be a princess."

"Hey, you called me a frog," you yelped, splashing water from the faucet onto his face, making him drop the cutlery he was holding and flinch away.

"I just called you a princess," he laughed, pulling your face closer to his with a wet hand, making you whine in protest, a sound he quickly silenced with a kiss. God, even when he was being romantic he was still damn annoying - though, that much you could still forgive.

shout out to: @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @fivenightsatwhoreville @minarinnn @loser-vxbez @pinksodacan

#oliver aiku x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #oliver aiku #blue christmas event #as someone who is multiple nationalities in a trench coat I love my multinational babe #oh the unholy thoughts of oli marrying a latina just to have a child that's like 4 or more nationalities in a trench coat #always space for one more flag in that family tree

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ghouljams · 6 months

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OK I know it's a general fanon take that Soap is an artist(which y'all already heard my take on Ghost being the artist of the group) but I disagree. I think he plays guitar. HOLD YOUR BOOING AND HISSING

Everyone that Soap mentions it to assumes he learned to impress girls and only knows a few basic chords he can bust out at parties but they're WRONG. Soap picked up guitar when he got into demolitions to help with his dexterity and fell absolutely in love with it. He very specifically loves any song with a lot of fingerings (wink wink) and plays a lot of old blues, folk, country music because of that.

The way I see it he's got two modes of playing. The first(and I can picture this so clearly) is sat way down in a comfy chair, his head tipped back against the back cushion and his eyes closed as he picks out the most intricate fucking piece you've ever heard in your like (Phoenix rising level fingerings) with the air of almost falling asleep. The second, is laughing at parties, picking out idle fingerings to a few crowd favorites(if you even mention wonderwall he's putting the guitar away) his face turning more serious when he actually looks at his guitar, sat forward and tapping his foot, I think he sings well enough to impress but not to win any awards.

Cowboy!Soap will break out his guitar and do little duets with Goose, both of them sloshed and singing Jack Rabbit is a tradition in the Price house. This is where the country really shines through, he can really flex his love for it without raising brows. So he does. Has absolutely composed a few pieces that he would love to show a certain darling if he can pin her down.

Fae!Soap does mostly finger picking. He likes showing off and he doesn't like people singing along. It makes him feel like he should be eating and he's trying to enjoy his hobby.

Anyway I think he bought a nice acoustic guitar with his first military paycheck and it has followed him everywhere ever since. The case is covered in baggage stickers and travel memos, the guitar itself has the signature of every person he's ever served with(he can find Ghost, Gaz, and Price by heart, Graves' is scratched out) and it's his most prized possession.

#ghoul speaks #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap modern warfare #soap cod #cowboy!soap

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ursulanoodles · 1 year

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Shane Headcanons pt. 1 (spoilers)

He’s a cuddler

Secretly enjoys being the little spoon

Secretly listens to sad country/folk music, but acts like he wouldn’t be caught dead doing so

Maybe the same thing with mainstream pop music, like Taylor Swift. I could definitely see him being a secret T Swift fan

Loves naps

Gives bear hugs

Super affectionate once he’s comfortable in a relationship

Will probably kiss your face off/squish you from cute aggression

Resisted the idea at first, but unashamedly lets Jas paint his nails on the reg

Jas is the reason he dyes his hair purple because it’s her favorite color

Smokes a lot of weed for his anxiety, but doesn’t make it his personality

definitely buys it from Sam at work or Seb on Friday nights outside of the Stardrop

Is kind of friends with Sam and thinks he’s hilarious. They get up to all sorts of shenanigans at work when Shane isn’t in a bad mood or hungover.

They totally ride pallet jacks around the back room together

Was totally a punk/emo kid (clothing therapy anyone?)

Started drinking too much after Jas’ parents’ deaths, though he was probably a frequent drinker before that but it sent him over the edge

Their deaths hit him hard and he couldn’t take care of himself, let alone a kid– hence the reason he moved in with Marnie

Looks frumpy in his depression clothes, but smells like clean laundry and whatever body wash and deodorant he uses (I like to imagine like fir/pine/citrus scents)

A lot of people like to say he doesn’t shower, but I think it’s the opposite. I think he takes a lot of hot showers and is meticulous about smelling good because he’s socially anxious. Too depressed to buy new clothes, but not depressed enough to smell like shit.

Not a vegetarian, but sometimes avoids meat and tries not to eat chicken, especially if it’s a chicken he’s raised.

Has undiagnosed ADHD and/or autism. Definitely neurodivergent in one way or another.

Soccer, chickens (birds in general if you’ve seen his summit scene), and Journey of the Prairie King are his special interests/hyperfixations.

Hums to himself and whistles a lot when he’s working or walking to/from work if he’s not in a bad mood

Definitely talks/mutters to himself, especially if he’s angry or anxious

Loves soccer/played soccer in school (not American football)

His Tunnelers shirt looks more like a soccer jersey and I think there’s a glaringly obvious discrepancy between the gridball/Tunnelers that Alex refers to and the Tunnelers that Shane refers to

He has a soccer ball in his room ffs

Also, in his 10 heart even he yells “Goal!” not “Touchdown!”

#shane sdv #shane stardew valley #stardew shane #shane stardew #sdv shane #sdv headcanons #shane headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #okay that's all for now #I used a lot of these in my fic :3 #i just love this sad little chicken man #tumblr ruined the format #sorry

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johnnycadeirl · 13 days

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prolly never gunna finish lol!

The Outsiders (Johnny's perspective)

I am Johnny Cade, a 16 year old greaser. I live in Tulsa Oklahoma, and I have my entire life, I have 2 parents, a mom and a dad. Sometimes I wish I didn't have either and then maybe I could be at peace, I could probably live with my pals, too. Ponyboy, Sodapop, and Darry would probably take me in, or Two-Bit if they could. My friends understand the situation at my house, they've saved me from my folks a handful of times. Two-Bit especially, sometimes I feel like I’d be better off dead, my parents sure would like that.. They probably wouldn’t notice for a while anyway since I haven't been going home as often anymore, and when I do.. They either ignore me or beat on me. I usually sleep at the Curtis house, or I stay with Two-Bit from time to time, when I can’t stay with Two or Pony, I sleep in the lot. I’m sure I would have a place with Dally if he didn’t stay at Bucks all the time. He doesn't have the best relationship with his parents either. His dad couldn’t care less about his whereabouts, and state. And we never hear about his mother, or any relatives that he may be able to stay with. He digs okay, so does the rest of my gang. They’re the closest relationships I’ve had to family. I'm smaller, and younger compared to all of them, well.. Except for ponyboy, at least for the age part. Ponyboy is 14 and he has already lost both of his parents in a car accident. I feel absolutely terrible for their entire family, especially Darry.. He’s only 20 and he has to continue raising his 2 kid brothers, he doesn’t usually have issues with Sodapop, but him and Ponyboy have never really gotten along, which got worse after their parents died. It was rough on the rest of the gang too. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were great people, and they took care of those who didn't have great relationships with their parents.. Me and Dally especially- Dally and Mrs. Curtis were real close, I’m sure their passing was also very hard on him.. Of course, he would NEVER let anyone know that, especially anyone in the gang. He thinks emotions and stuff like that are wastes of time, and he had never done so much as cry in front of any of us. Of course we had seen him angry, he hates the world and almost everything in it. He doesn't seem to hate me though, I’ve never been to sure as to why.. But I love Dally a lot, I love the entire gang a lot. They’re all I’ve got in life, without the gang I have nothing, I AM nothing. I would probably be dead and gone if it weren't for them. Or I’d be in a different state, trying to start a new life, without my parents being there to bug me and hurt me. Maybe there wouldn’t be any “Greasers” or “Socs” there too.. Just people. Normal, plain old people.. Maybe I’d be able to go to church there too.. Me and Ponyboy used to go all the time, we invited Two-Bit, and the rest of the gang once, they caused a pretty dramatic scene.. So we never went again. Ponyboy always talks about living in the country, pretty far 'away from the city.. I don’t think I’d mind the “country life” too much, I’d just need to get used to it for a bit, especially since I’ve never been outside of our neighborhood. Maybe there I’d be considered less stupid. That’s all I’ve ever been called by teachers and my parents. I dunno, maybe I am stupid.. I can really get excited about learning if it’s something I find interesting. Ponyboy has mentioned a book before Gone with the Wind. Maybe in the country Ponyboy would be able to read it to me or something. Ponyboy likes books a lot,

#the outsiders #johnny cade #dallas winston #two bit mathews #steve randle #ponyboy curtis #sodapop curtis #darry curtis

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writingsofwerewolves · 1 month

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Here's the first chapter of the werewolf noncon story I'm working on. It's still not fully edited and some things are subject to change before I post it to AO3, but I wanted to share in case some folks wanted an early peek.

If you need any content warnings, maybe wait to decide to read it until I've posted it to AO3 with all the appropriate tags. The only warning I can give right now is that it contains noncon.

The following sample is about 7k words.

Day 1

A free trip across the country. I should’ve known it sounded too good to be true. By the time I realized, it was far too late. I’d already signed the contract.

“For the next four days, you all belong to the werewolves aboard this train,” the woman explained as we crowded into a small room for the orientation. “You will do as they say. For the next four days and three nights, your bodies belong to them. Understood?”

Around me, there was a chorus of “yes ma’am’s,” a lot of which sounded bored. In fact, many of them looked as if they’d been through the same speech a million times. Maybe they had.

“We have some special guests on this trip,” the woman continued and a few of my fellows perked up, “So I want you all to be on your best behavior. Now, get to work.”

With the dismissal, a door was opened and everyone started filing out, a few of them murmuring excitedly to each other.

“Who do you think it is?” one of the men whispered to a shorter woman, “One of the Alpha’s agents?”

“I heard the Alpha himself was coming,” she replied.

“Hush now!” the director woman snapped.

When the room was nearly empty, I stepped towards her, “Umm… ma’am?”

She looked down at me, an impatient eyebrow raised.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” I said in a small voice, “I didn’t know what I was signing when—”

“You signed the contract, didn’t you?” she asked impatiently.

“Yes, but I was told—”

“You didn’t read it?”

“I was in a hurry and the lady said it was—”

“Not my problem,” she held up a hand, “You signed the contract. You’re legally bound to it, whether you read it or not. Now get out there. You have guests to tend to.”

“But I’m… I’ve never…”

She heaved a heavy sigh, gripped my shoulders, spun me around and marched me forward, out the door.

In the train car, several werewolves were lounging in chairs, drinks in hand, and some already had a human companion in their laps. My eyes widened in horror when I saw one of the humans had already been forced to his knees, his head between the legs of a werewolf woman while her fingers knotted in his hair, grinding his face against her crotch.

“New to this, sweetie?” a voice sounded beside me.

I jumped as a hand wrapped around my arm and dragged me closer to a large, warm body.

“Don’t worry, baby,” the werewolf man murmured, leading me over to one of the chairs, “I’ll take care of you.”

He sat and pulled me into his lap, his hand squeezing my ass possessively, making me yelp with surprise.

“Please don’t,” I said in a small voice, struggling against his hold, “Please, I’m… I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Mmm,” he rumbled, pressing his nose into my neck, “I think you’re supposed to be right here.”

His hand moved from my ass to between my legs.

I desperately tried to push him away and said, “I’ve never done this. Please…”

He paused, pulling back to look in my eyes, “You’re a virgin?”

I swallowed dryly and nodded.

A wicked smile broke out on his face, “Well then I just won the lottery.”

I fought back a sob as he ducked his head again, nibbling at my neck. His hand was still between my legs, rubbing circles over my clit through my clothes. I’d never been touched like that by anyone before. And my first time was by a stranger whose name I didn’t know, who didn’t know my name, and who only saw me as a sex toy.

Yet, I couldn’t help the whimpers of pleasure that came from my lips. It felt good to be touched for the first time. For the hand on my clit to not be my own or a vibrator.

Just four days and I’d be free. The train would arrive and I’d be free. I just had to put up with it for four days.

While the man continued to rub me through my clothes, he spoke to his fellow werewolves, many of whom also had humans on hand. He talked as if he wasn’t actively violating me in front of everyone, only occasionally ducking his head to nibble at me while someone else talked.

I kept my eyes averted from everyone else. I didn’t want to see how many people were witness to my shame. I couldn’t handle it.

Eventually, one of the man’s hands made its way under my shirt and started squeezing my breast. I whined and squirmed, trying to dislodge his hand, but it was no good. He held me still with one arm while assaulting me with his other hand.

“Do you mind if I cut in?” a deep voice sounded from above me.

“Oh… uh… Of course, sir,” the werewolf holding me said quickly and I suddenly found myself being pushed out of his lap, onto my feet.

I swayed, unsteady from the abrupt change, only to be caught by new hands around my upper arms.

“All yours,” the man that had been holding me said.

I looked up at the new werewolf. He was extremely tall and clearly very thickly built under his nicely fitted suit, with a thick black beard and long hair pulled neatly behind his head. The man held me at arm’s length for a moment, his eyes looking me up and down before he inclined his head towards the previous werewolf.

“Thank you, Robert,” he said.

“Of course, sir,” the previous werewolf said quickly, “Whatever you need.”

The new werewolf scooped me into his arms, cradling me to his broad chest, as he walked through the train car.

“I can walk on my own,” I told him, struggling in his hold.

“I am certain you can,” he said with a rich chuckle, “But I wish to carry you, pup.”

I pursed my lips at the pet name, “I’m not a pup.”

He smiled, but said nothing as he moved to one of the chairs and sat, continuing to cradle me in his arms.

“Let me go,” I said, pushing at his chest to try to get away.

He raised an eyebrow, “If you leave my possession, another werewolf will take you for their own. Did you perhaps prefer Robert?”

I glanced back towards where the previous werewolf was. He had already found another human, his hand in the woman’s pants.

“N-no,” I stuttered out, “But I’m not supposed to be here at all.”

“You signed the contract, yes?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know what it was for.”

“Unfortunate. Still, as I said, if you leave my possession, another werewolf will take you and I do not want that. For the remainder of this trip, you belong to me, pup.”

I fought back a sob and nodded my understanding.

Just four days. Four days and I would be free.

Unlike the previous werewolf, my new captor didn’t touch me between my legs as he began speaking to the other werewolves. He held me to him with one hand on my waist while the other ran up and down my thigh, which was still more intimate than I liked, but it was better than having my clit touched in a room full of strangers.

I didn’t want to listen to the conversations around me. I wanted to completely check out. I rested my forehead against the man’s collarbone, closing my eyes and desperately trying to forget where I was. The werewolf’s hand on my thigh didn’t let me forget. I was acutely aware of the contact as his large, warm hand ran down almost to my knee and then up to the curve of my ass.

“A moment, pup,” he murmured in my ear, “I need to conduct some business in private.”

Before I knew it, I was being hauled gently to my feet. The werewolf took my hand and led me over to the corner of the train car, where a few other humans were sitting. He guided me to a chair and gestured for me to sit.

He bent down and kissed my forehead, “I will return shortly. Behave yourself.”

I nodded numbly and he smiled and turned, leaving the train car with a few other werewolves at his side. As soon as he was gone, the two other humans there leaned towards me.

“How’d you do it?” the woman asked in a hushed but excited tone.

“Do… what?” I asked, hugging myself protectively.

“Bag the Alpha,” the man said in disbelief, “I’ve been doing this for five years and I’ve never seen him take on a human before.”

I felt my eyes widen fearfully, “The… Alpha…? Like the Alpha?”

The pair of them nodded, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.

“You really didn’t know?” the woman asked, “Wow… You must be oblivious. He’s only the most famous werewolf in the whole fucking world.”

My face warmed with shame and anxiety. The Alpha...what the fuck?

“He probably overheard that they’re a virgin,” the man commented to the woman.

“Really?” she looked at me, brow furrowed, “You’re a virgin?”

“I’ve… never had sex,” I whispered.

“Fuck,” the woman groaned, “If I’d known that was all it’d take to get the Alpha’s attention, I would’ve saved myself.”

My face burned further.

The werewolf that had laid claim to me returned to the car, walking straight towards me. He held his hand out to me.

As I looked up at him, really looked at him, I realized I did recognize him. I’d seen him on the news plenty of times. I just hadn't been expecting to see him there.

“Come with me, pup,” he said, his voice soft.

The humans beside me gave me a look of jealousy and disbelief.

I swallowed hard and placed my hand within his. He helped me to my feet and started leading me to the door at the back of the train car. My breathing was rough and ragged. The Alpha. The fucking Alpha. I barely saw where we were going as he led the way through the train. He kept a steadying hand on me as I rocked with the train’s movements.

Then we were in a private room. A surprisingly large bed for it being on a train took up a large amount of the space. My heart raced in fear as I eyed the bed, but he pulled me past it and into a bathroom, also unexpectedly large for being on a train. Suddenly, he held me close, pressing his nose into my neck and inhaling deeply. When he pulled away, he had a frown on his face.

“You smell of other wolves,” he told me and he gestured at the shower, “Bathe thoroughly.”

“P-please, sir,” I looked up at him with wide eyes, “I… I shouldn’t be here.”

“Regardless, you are here and for the next four days, you belong to me, pup,” he said in a firm but not unkind voice. “Please do not make this more difficult than it needs to be. Shower and there will be clean clothes waiting for you.”

He didn’t give me a chance to respond before he stepped out and closed the door behind him. Left with no real choice, I showered. Keeping in mind what he said about the scent of other werewolves, I made sure to wash my neck thoroughly where the other man had nibbled. I also took the time to wash away the evidence of my arousal between my legs. Of which there was an embarrassing amount.

Once I felt clean, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel. Then I realized… I didn’t have any clothes to put on in the bathroom. My werewolf-scented clothes were there, but I knew the Alpha wouldn’t be happy about that. My only option was to step into the bedroom and hope there were clothes waiting for me there.

They were, but the Alpha was also there. He was on his cell phone, speaking a language I didn’t understand. When he saw me emerge, he said a quick goodbye to whoever was on the other end of the conversation and hung up. He gestured to a small stack of clothing on the bed.

“Dress,” he ordered, “Quickly, please. We have somewhere to be.”

I swallowed hard and moved towards the bed. The Alpha’s head was ducked as he did some typing on his phone. Steeling myself, I grabbed the shirt from the stack and tried to keep the towel firmly around me as I maneuvered to attempt to dress.

I heard the Alpha heave a sigh and then suddenly he was moving towards me. I tried to back away, but I hit a wall and then the Alpha was there, his hand gripping the towel I clutched around me. I tried to hold on to it, to keep him from pulling it off, but to no avail. The towel was yanked from my body and I struggled to cover myself with my hands. He dropped the towel and gripped one of my wrists, holding it up so I couldn’t use that hand to cover myself.

“There,” he said simply, “I have seen you naked. No need to complicate things to avoid this outcome now, is there?”

I didn’t respond, I just struggled against his hold, trying to free my wrist.

“Is there?” he repeated more firmly.

I stilled and said in a quiet voice, “No, sir.”

He released me, “Good pup. Now dress. As I said, we have somewhere to be.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied weakly.

He gave a nod and then moved away, resuming typing on his cell phone.

I dressed as quickly as possible, grateful that the man didn’t look at me again while I did so.

“Good,” he said, pocketing his phone and then offering me his arm, “Shall we?”

I wanted to scream “no!” in his face, but that wouldn’t do any good, so I nodded and moved to his side, holding his arm as he led the way out of the room. We went into the dining car and the Alpha gestured for me to sit beside him at a large table. There were lots of other werewolves sat there, and only a few of my fellow contracted humans.

Food was delivered to us. Mostly meat based, from what I saw. Which made sense, with all the werewolves.

My stomach was too tense to eat much. And as much as I tried to ignore the conversation around me, I still heard some of it.

“Alpha, you’re really not worried about the vampires rising in the north?” a woman werewolf asked, who had a human woman at her side.

“We have people keeping an eye on them, Delilah,” he responded, “As a whole, however, I do not believe vampires present a threat to us.”

“They threaten humans,” a man argued.

“Not as much as the news would have you believe. How many humans kill humans every day?” the Alpha asked, “The numbers of vampire on human violence feel high because the news reports on every single attack broadly when the reality is that they kill far fewer humans on average than humans kill each other.”

“So a few human deaths at the hands of vampires are acceptable?” another questioned.

“Not at all. I only mean to say that vampires as a species are not a threat to werewolves or humans. The violence, whether it be vampires against humans or humans against humans, needs to be addressed. I have formed a committee of vampires, werewolves, and humans to discuss what can be done. We are investigating the causes of vampire attacks on humans and learning how we can prevent them.”

“Killing all vampires would do it,” someone pointed out.

“Indeed, it would,” the Alpha agreed gravely, “Just as killing all humans would cease their attacks on werewolves. Do you suggest we commit genocide for the acts of a few individuals?”

The person flushed and didn’t respond.

“As I said,” the Alpha continued, “Vampires as a whole are not a danger to us. Everyone on an individual basis has the capability of committing horrendous acts, but those actions should not condemn their entire species.”

The conversation drifted away from vampires as I starred at the nearly full plate of food in front of me, stomach churning.

“You are not hungry?” the Alpha asked me softly.

“No, sir,” I replied in a whisper.

“You should at least drink some water,” he said, moving my glass closer to me before taking my plate and emptying it onto his.

I took the glass and drank a few sips before setting it back down.

The Alpha gave a weary sigh, shaking his head, “More, please, pup.”

“Yes, sir,” I muttered, a little bitterly, as grabbed the glass again, drinking more deeply.

“Good, pup,” he said softly.

My cheeks warmed under his praise.

He returned to speaking to others at the table and I obediently continued sipping my drink, realizing I was indeed quite thirsty.

After a while, the people dispersed from the table. The Alpha helped me up, but instead of letting me walk, he scooped me into his arms. I gave a small yelp of surprise, which earned a chuckle from him. I didn’t bother complaining. It wouldn’t do any good.

He carried me into another car, where the werewolves had settled down with their human companions. I tried to avert my eyes from the sexual acts being preformed shamelessly, but I couldn’t help glancing. A werewolf had their cock down a human’s throat. Another werewolf was fingering open a human’s pussy lazily. When I saw a human bent over a table, a werewolf plowing into them with a strap on, I finally buried my face in the Alpha’s shoulder, closing my eyes.

I felt him chuckle as he moved to sit in one of the chairs, cradling me to his chest. My body buzzed with nerves as I expected him to start fucking me like the other werewolves were doing to their humans.

“Quite the cutie you’ve got there, boss,” someone said.

“Indeed,” the Alpha agreed, running his hand up my thigh as he spoke, sending a shiver through me, “No companion for this trip, Leo?”

“All the good ones were taken,” the man sighed sadly, “There should be a rule that no one can have more than a single human on these trips. Delilah claimed two.”

“You could always ask her to share.”

The man raised an eyebrow, “It’s Delilah.”

The Alpha chuckled, giving my thigh a small pat, “Indeed. My apologies. You know the rules of the train are outside my jurisdiction, Leo.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re the Alpha,” the man persisted, “As if they’d refuse you anything.”

“As I understand it, they are still perfecting the system. You may lodge a complaint if you wish.”

“Won’t help me get my dick wet today,” the man grumbled.

“Indeed not,” the Alpha agreed gravely.

“You know I helped you out with those rogue packs in the west,” he said.

“You did,” the Alpha said slowly, “I am grateful for you assistance. It was invaluable.”

“Invaluable enough that you would let me have a taste of that cute little thing in your arms?” Leo asked.

I inhaled sharply and pressed closer to the Alpha, weirdly seeking safety in his arms despite the situation.

“I am glad to share many resources with you, Leo,” the Alpha replied coolly, “I will listen to any request you have that would improve your life and the lives of those in your territory. But this human is mine for the next four days and I have no intention of sharing them.”

I let out a breath of relief, my body relaxing.

“Of course, Alpha,” the man said quickly, “Sorry. I… My apologies.”

“No harm done. It never hurts to ask,” the Alpha replied, “I do hope you find company on this trip, my friend.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said before retreating.

“Are you alright, pup?” the Alpha murmured, stroking my cheek.

I pulled back so I could look up at him, “You’re not gonna share me?”

“No, I will not,” he said firmly, “You are mine.”

Something about the way he said that made me shiver. I glanced around the room. Lots of clothes had come off and more than a few pairs, or larger groups, were outright fucking. Yet the Alpha hadn’t done more than hold me.

“Are… are you going to do…” I swallowed and nodded to one of the nearer groups, “that… to me…?”

He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, “Not here. Not in front of everyone, pup.”

I let out a breath of relief, though it was mitigated by the implication that he still would do it. That said, it was good to know that my violation wouldn’t be a public spectacle.

“Then… why are we here?” I asked in a small voice.

“Would you rather go back to my room now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No!” I said a little to loudly and quickly. I shrunk, feeling my face warm.

He chuckled and rubbed my thigh gently, “We are here for business purposes. I am waiting for someone to arrive, but they are running late. You are free to enjoy the show in the meantime.”

I glared at him and looked away from the groups of fucking people.

“You are not going to lean against me again?” he asked, sounding hurt, “I quite enjoyed that.”

“Sorry if your pleasure isn’t top of my priorities,” I muttered.

He gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. For a second, I thought he was angry, but he was smiling.

“Good,” he stated, “I like your fire, pup.”

Before I could respond, someone approached, “Alpha. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Not a problem,” the Alpha released my chin and gestured to the chair beside him, “I missed you at lunch.”

“You looked occupied,” they said as they took their seat, “I’ve never seen you with a human on these trips. This one must be pretty special.”

“Perhaps,” the Alpha said, “Though I admit, I usually am far too busy to even notice the offerings.”

“I can relate to that. Makes me glad I have a permanent human companion ready and waiting at home.”

“Did you wish to discuss humans or the trade routes from your territory, Rose?”

“My apologies, Alpha. One of our grain suppliers is short this season and…”

I didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation. My eyes were drawn again to the werewolves fucking their humans all around us. I wondered at how or even why they would choose to have such an important meeting in a room clearly designated for sex. Though, I couldn’t help but notice how the werewolf, Rose, seemed to be enjoying watching the proceedings while they discussed their territory’s food supply.

While watching the other werewolves enjoying themselves, I felt the Alpha’s hand firm on my thigh, rubbing circles there. Even though it wasn’t between my legs, like the previous werewolf had done, I still felt arousal build.

I had an internal debate. There were basically two options. I could fight the Alpha, not let myself get aroused or enjoy it, and he would still probably take me. Or I could give in to the excitement I felt building between my legs, which would make it easier for him to fuck me and probably make it less painful. I didn’t know which option I’d be able to live with after the four days were up.

“Thank you, Rose,” the Alpha said, beginning to rise as he cradled me in his arms. “I will set the plans in motion right away. The wolves in your territory will not go hungry.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” they said, giving a bow.

The Alpha carried me through the train cars, back to his room. I felt fear grip my heart. Once we were in his room, he set me down on my feet.

“Ah, good,” he said, “Your things were delivered here.”

“My… my things?” I sputtered, rushing over to where my two travel cases were.

But the Alpha beat me to it. He lifted one of the suitcases up onto a table and unzipped it.

“Please don’t,” I said, “That’s… that’s mine. It’s private.”

He turned and raised an eyebrow at me, “Not on this train, pup.” He returned his attention to the travel case as he filled it open. “You seem to have planned an extended trip.”

“Stay out of that,” I said, moving and reaching to grab the case. My words were cut off when the Alpha wrapped a hand around my throat. Automatically, I gripped his wrist in both my hands, fruitlessly trying to pry him off me.

“What exactly do you not wish for me to find, pup?” he asked, his voice soft but with a dangerous edge.

“You… you have no right,” I choked out. His hand wasn’t squeezing tightly, but I found I was having trouble speaking under his harsh gaze.

“You signed away your rights,” he reminded me, “Now go sit on the bed.”

I glared up at him for several long moments before dropping my gaze and letting go of his wrist. Once I did, he released my throat. I rubbed my neck automatically as I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, watching fearfully as the werewolf dug through my belongings.

He systematically pulled out all my clothes, folding them and setting them aside. I couldn’t help that spread over flush of my face as he got to my underwear. I didn’t have fancy underwear or anything, but it still felt extremely invasive. To his credit, he didn’t make any lewd comments. He set the articles of clothing aside just as he had the rest.

When he finished going through the first travel case, he put everything back and moved on to the next. I shuffled uncomfortably as he unzipped it. Immediately, he raised an eyebrow. He reached into the case and pulled out a wand vibrator before looking at me questioning.

“You have a problem with vibrators?” I asked stiffly.

“Not at all,” he said with a chuckle, setting the device aside, “But my husband would chide you for buying such poor quality.”

“Husband?” I demanded, “You’re… married?”

He frowned at me, “That is hardly a secret. Many of your kind were upset to learn I was married to man.”

“Sorry, I don’t keep up with werewolf gossip,” I muttered, “I have more important things to do.”

“Clearly,” he nodded towards my travel case, “You packed quite thoroughly. Where are you going?”

I crossed my arms and pursed my lips.

“Or perhaps I should ask from what you are running,” he mused, “Regardless…” he returned my things to the case, “It seems you truly are just a traveler.”

“Did… did you think I was lying?” I asked, confused.

“I wondered if you had been sent to assassinate me,” he said, zipping up the case and setting it back on the ground.

“Why would I do that? And why me?”

He faced me, arms crossed as he frowned thoughtfully, “You truly did not know who I was, did you?”

I looked away, embarrassed.

“How did you come to be here, pup?”

“I’m not a pup,” I said through clench teeth.

“Answer the question.”

“I… I needed a way to get across the country,” I muttered, “But I didn’t have enough money. This lady said there was a free train, I just had to sign a bunch of stuff. It was leaving soon, so I didn’t have time to read the contract and…”

“And now here you are.”

“Lucky me.”

“You are indeed getting a free train ride across the country.”

“Not free if I have to pay with my body.”

“A fair point,” he inclined his head, “Were you telling Robert the truth? You are virgin?”

I grimaced, “Not a fan of that word.”

He chuckled, “Then you and my husband would get along well. You are sexually inexperienced?”

I nodded reluctantly.

“I take it you are not unfamiliar with pleasure,” he said, nodding towards my travel case.

“Whatever you’re gonna do, why not just do it?” I demanded, “Get it over with.”

The Alpha raised an eyebrow, “I have no intention of rushing this. After all, it is your first time. I want to make it memorable.”

“I think my virginity being taken against my will by the Alpha werewolf will be pretty fucking memorable.”

He smiled, “For me, I mean.”

I glared at him.

“There is that fire,” he said, stepping towards me, “You are cute when you are scared and submissive, but I like your defiance.”

“Not used to people not bending to your every whim, Alpha?” I asked spitefully.

“Good,” he breathed, moving closer until he was right in front of me. He put his hand under my chin and tilted my face up, “Do you have more to say, pup?”

I breathed heavily, struggling for another cutting remark, but nothing came.

“A pity. Now will you undress yourself or shall I do it for you?”

I swallowed hard. And there we came to my choice… Did I made it easier on us all? Or did I fight him the whole way?

He waited patiently for my answer, as if he knew what debate was raging in my head.

“Please don’t do this,” I whispered.

“I will not hurt you, pup,” the Alpha said, his voice soft and gentle, “And if you allow yourself, you will enjoy it as well.”

“I don’t want to,” I said, feeling tears sting my eyes. “Please, Alpha.”

He didn’t say anything. He ducked down and pressed a kiss to my forehead before pushing me backwards to lay on the bed. I went without fighting him, struggling to keep my tears from falling. Once I was on my back, the Alpha pulled my shoes off and then gripped the waistband of my pants. I stared up at the ceiling as he pulled down my pants and underwear in one smooth motion.

“Hmm,” he rumbled, his warm hand finding my bare center, “You are positively soaked.”

I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth.

“I know better than to say this means you want this,” he told me, his thick warm thumb rubbing slow circles over my clit as I forced myself to stay silent, “It is a natural reaction to stimuli and has nothing to do with what you do or do not want. It will, however, make this easier.”

I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips as he pressed a finger into me.

“Have you ever had something inside you before?” the Alpha asked, his voice low and husky as his finger swirled with me slowly.

“Y-yes,” I choked out, my hands in tight fists on the bedsheets as I fought to stay still.

“Good,” he murmured, his hands leaving my pussy and traveling under my shirt, pushing it up to expose my belly. “Solo explorations, I imagine?”

“Just fuck me already,” I ground out.

He smiled, “There is that fire.”

I glared at him as he pulled my shirt off, over my head, leaving me completely bare. He hands ran up and down my sides, taking the time to run his thumbs over my stiffening nipples. I couldn’t suppress my shudder at the sensation.

Then he pulled back and began undoing the buttons of his shirt, “Play with yourself.”

“W-what?” I stuttered, sitting up and scooting back away from him on the bed.

“Pleasure yourself,” he said, “I want to see what you enjoy.”

“Why do you care what I enjoy?” I demanded, my voice more weary than angry, “This isn’t that complicated. I’m already… prepped. Just fuck me and be done.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You are not nearly prepared enough for me, pup.”

My eyes widened in horror at the implication of his words. I automatically glanced down at the bulge in his pants and swallowed dryly.

“I will make sure you can take me before I fuck you,” he said, “You can ease that along. If you truly wish for this to be over quickly, touch yourself. Show me what brings you pleasure.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, “Fine, but… I only ever use a vibrator.”

“You never use your fingers?” he asked.

“Not on… on my clit. It doesn’t feel as good.”

“Hmm,” he said, shrugging off his shirt and folding it before setting it aside. “Still, I want to see you finger yourself. Please, pup.”

I couldn’t help but gulp at the sight of his shirtless torso. He looked sizable with the suit on, but without it, I could see he was a large man. Chewing my lip anxiously, I reached down between my legs.

Fuck, I was wet. Way more so than I got in my quick vibrator sessions. I was soaking the bed sheets beneath me. At the feeling of my fingers on my clit, I let out a small moan.

“Good pup,” he murmured. His words reminded me that he was there and I quickly pulled my hand away, my face flushing.

The Alpha was fully bare, having finished undressing while I touched myself. My eyes were drawn immediately to his half hard cock. I didn’t have much, if any, experience with real penises but it looked intimidatingly large.

“Did I tell you to stop?” the Alpha asked, his hand wrapping around his length as he slowly began stroking himself.

“Please don’t do this,” I begged.

He frowned and stepped closer to the bed. I started to back away, but he gripped my ankle and dragged me towards him.

“No!” I tried to kick at him, but before I could land a hit, he was on me, his waist between my thighs, his heavy torso on mine, and his hands pinning my wrists to the bed. I felt his large, burning hot cock resting against my pelvis.

“If I need to restrain you, I shall,” he warned in a low voice, “Is this what you want, pup?”

A shudder ran through me. My body was reacting to his words and the feeling of his weight pressing down on me, the strength of him holding me still.

“Hmm,” he raised a curious eyebrow, “Perhaps you do indeed enjoy it.”

He moved my wrists to above my head so he could hold them in a single hand. His newly free hand ran down my body, stroking my breasts, my belly, and finally settling between my legs. I struggled against his hold as he began gently rubbing circles over my clit.

“Please don’t,” I begged in a small voice.

The Alpha ignored my plea and ducked his head to my neck. First he inhaled deeply and then he nibbled at my neck, biting down gently. At the sensation I stilled and whimpered.

“Good pup.” he murmured against my neck and then he pressed a finger into me, while his thumb continued to work my clit. The Alpha continued to nibble and bite my neck.

My back arched off the bed as I felt his thick finger swirl within me.

“You are quite tight,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “Have you had anything my size before?”

I swallowed hard and squeaked out, “N-no… I don’t think so.”

“Good,” he replied and I felt him press a second finger into me.

I winced at the stretch. It was borderline painful.

“Relax,” he ordered, pulling back to look into my eyes as he finger fucked me, “Give in and this will be much easier for you.”

“Easier for you to assault me?” I said through clenched teeth.

He curled his fingers upward as his thumb pressed hard against my clit, making me let out a long moan as I felt an orgasm fast approaching.

“I will enjoy this regardless,” he told me, “You can enjoy it if you allow yourself.”

“St-stop,” I begged, my hips moving of their own accord as I neared the edge. “D-don’t!”

He released my wrists, instead using his hand to grab my breast, giving it a rough squeeze as he thrust his fingers against my g-spot.

“Fuck…” I moaned out, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, my hands grappling at his arm for something to hold as pleasure washed over my body against my will. I felt my pussy convulsing rhythmically around his fingers as he continued to gently rub my clit, drawing out my orgasm.

He looked down at me as I panted, recovering from the experience, his fingers still deep inside me, his eyes full of lust.

“Am… am I wet enough for you now, Alpha?” I hissed with as much spite as I could in my breathless state.

“Hmm,” he mused, moving his fingers within me, making me whimper at the over-stimulation, “I think you may be. Do you feel ready for me, pup?”

“Just do it. Get it over with.”

“Alright,” he agreed, pulling his fingers from me and instead gripping his cock, stroking it and spreading my arousal on himself, “Would you like for me to take you like this?” he rubbed the head of his cock against my pussy.

I squirmed at the sensation.

“Or should I turn you over and fuck you from behind.”

My pussy clenched at his words and he smiled.

“From behind it is,” he said and before I could react, he grabbed me, and flipped me over.

“Hey!” I protested, starting to get up, but he pressed his hand between my shoulder blades, forcing my face into the mattress. I shudder ran through me at the sensation of being pinned, his body pressing close behind me.

His other hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it to rub through my folds, soaking him in my juices.

“Please, wait,” I begged breathlessly, fear suddenly gripping me, “N-not yet. Please, Alpha.”

“What happened to ‘get it over with’?” he asked, sounding amused.

“I’m not ready,” I said, feeling tears start to soak through the blanket under my cheek.

“Do you wish for me to prepare you further?”

I swallowed hard and said, “Y-yes. Please.”

“Good pup,” he murmured, his hand moving between my legs, his fingers entering me again.

With the new position, it felt different, eliciting a whimper from me. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to force my body to relax, to let him in. I didn’t want it to hurt. I didn’t want it to be more painful than it had to be.

“You are doing well,” the Alpha told me, the hand on my back beginning to rub soothing circles there, rather than holding me down.

The praise went straight between my legs, sending strange tingles of pleasure through me.

He worked three fingers into me, gently moving in and out, filling the air with lewd squelching noises. I felt a second orgasm beginning to build in my belly. I knew that if I managed to cum again, my inner muscles would tighten and penetration would be difficult for a time afterwards. I didn’t want to test his patience by asking him to wait longer.

“Okay,” I spoke up, my voice shaky. I hated myself for being party to my violation, but I knew it would be worse if I wasn’t, “I… I think I’m ready…”

“Good pup,” he said, bending over me and pressing a kiss to my shoulder, “Try to relax. I will be gentle.”

He ran a soothing hand over my back before he resumed rubbing his cock against me, lubricating it. Then he lined himself with my entrance and pressed forward. As I felt the stretch, fear overwhelmed me.

“No!” I started to struggle, but his hand came quickly down on my back, pressing me flat against the bed.

“Stay still,” he ordered, “I do not wish to hurt you, pup.”

My hands tightened into fists around the blanket beneath me as tears blurred my vision. He continued to enter me slowly and I felt myself open around him, molding to his shape. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it felt foreign and uncomfortable inside me.

Behind me, I heard him groan in pleasure. He didn’t stop until I felt his pelvis flush against my ass. Then he stilled, his breathing ragged. After a moment, he reached between my legs and rubbed my clit.

“Oh!” I gasped out, my pussy twitching around him at the sensation.

And then he moved. He pulled back slowly, all the while his fingers worked my clit. Before he was fully out, he pushed gently back in. The sensation of him reentering me smoothly and the stimulation of my clit pulled a moan from my lips.

He slowly built up speed, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting forward. He couldn’t keep up pleasuring me while he moved. He instead gripped my hip, one hand still pinning me to the bed while the other provided him with more leverage.

Little sounds of pleasure escaped me every time he thrust back into my pussy. Without really thinking about it, I reached down to play with my own clit, needing that stimulation to truly enjoy the feeling of him fucking me.

“Good pup,” he grunted.

I gave a small pleased whine at his words, happy with the praise. It sent zings of pleasure through me.

With his large cock opening me up, stimulating nerves I hadn’t know existed, and my hand rubbing my clit, it didn’t take long for my second orgasm to hit me. I moaned openly into the blankets under my face, my free hand knotting in them as my pussy clenched and convulsed around the Alpha.

He muttered something in a language I didn’t recognize, but his meaning was clear. He was close as well. He fucked me roughly before pressing forward, his cock twitching within me as I felt a warmth filling me.

He panted, his body curling over mine as he used one arm to brace himself against the bed.

The Alpha kissed my shoulder and murmured breathlessly, “You did well, my pup.”

I hummed contently, wiggling my hips against him. He groaned and held me still. He slowly pulled out and I winced at the loss. I felt his cum drip out of me and run down my legs.

Very carefully, he lifted me into his arms and I leaned my head against his bare chest. He gave a low chuckle that vibrated my body as he moved onto the bed. The Alpha reached for something beside the bed and then pressed a warm, damp cloth between my legs.

I grimaced and squirmed uncomfortably.

“Sshh, pup,” he soothed, “Let me take care of you.”

I relaxed, melting in his arms as he cleaned the mess from between my legs. When he was done, he put the cloth away and kissed my forehead.

“You were wonderful,” he murmured, cradling me to him.

I blinked quickly, the fog of pleasure receding from my head. My breathing sped up.

“Pup?” he questioned, sounding concerned.

“I’m… not your pup,” I whispered, wiggling to try to get out of his arms, but he tightened his hold.

“For the duration of this trip, you are,” he reminded me, “You belong to me, pup.”

“Fuck you,” I said, pushing weakly against his chest, “Let me go.”

He chuckled and gripped my chin, raising my face to look up at him, “There is that fire again.”

I jerked my chin free and glared at him.

“You cannot honestly deny that you enjoyed this,” he told me, “You gave yourself to me freely.”

“Because fighting you would hurt more,�� I countered.

“Perhaps. I do not believe that is the full truth. Did I hurt you, pup?”

I swallowed hard and reluctantly said, “No.”

“Good,” he replied, “If I do, I wish for you to tell me.”

“Why does it matter?” I demanded, “You’re gonna fuck me no matter what.”

“I will do what I can to minimize your discomfort. You did well asking me to prepare you further. If you continue to cooperate in that way, we both shall greatly enjoy the remainder of our time together.”

“I’m used goods now, though,” I pointed out, “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You believe that was your appeal to me?”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Not in the way you think. I have no plans to toss you aside now.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to fuck you again,” he said simply, “I want you to cum on my cock over and over until you are incoherent.”

I swallowed dryly, my eyes wide.

“For now, however,” he began, “I think you should rest. We have two more nights together and after such an intense experience, I believe you need time to recover.”

His words made me truly process it… I’d had sex. Concerned, I reached a hand between my legs, as if to reassure myself that I was unharmed.

“Are you alright?” he asked, “Are you in pain?”

I shook my head, “No, but… was there blood?” I asked in a small voice.

His expression shifted into a kind smile, “No, pup. There was no blood.”

I let out a breath of relief. All my life, I’d been told my first time would be filled with blood and pain, but… it wasn’t. Whether that was due to my previous dildo usage or the Alpha’s thorough preparation, I didn’t know.

“Sleep, little one,” he murmured, kissing my forehead, “You are safe and cared for here.”

“I think we have different ideas of what safe means,” I mumbled, but I leaned my forehead against his shoulder regardless.

“Perhaps we do. Still, you can rest easy knowing I shall not touch you again tonight.”

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