#bitch about making change and all the things that happen to women

[inkskinned]

you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

#warm up #spilled ink #writeblr

[babygirl-riley]

Hii🌸 if u don't mind would u pls write for simon w fem reader who's having a difficult pregnancy??:'( if not that's ok, luv ur stuff btw🩷

In Sickness and Health

Simon’s heart breaks when watching going through your first pregnancy

A/N: Omg i watched my old co worked go through a hard pregnancy. It never looks easy no matter how it is going. I love this idea too ❤️

Warnings: sickness, pregnancy, hard pregnancy, underlining depression, arguments, marriage, soft!simon, husband!simon, dad!simon, fluff, little angst, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

When you found out you were pregnant, it was obvious. No period. Your cravings became intense. You threw up every fucking morning. Simon and you were excited that you were pregnant, people encouraging you that the morning sickness would pass. Instead. It came harder and longer. You cramped all the time, you bled once. Thinking you lost the baby when in fact you didn’t. Doctor reassured that it was normal in some women.

However, both of you didn’t expect the pregnancy to get harder than what people said it would have been. Your mom even said that what you are going through isn’t what she did. You are through your third trimester and nothing changed. Eventually your midwife came to put fluids in you since you couldn’t hold anything in. Throwing up was your new aesthetic. It got harder for you to work so you had to quit your job and stay home. Best friends with your toilet, you slept there day and night until your body grew bigger.

Simon was ordered from Price to stay home until the baby arrived and settled. Price heard from Simon about how the pregnancy has been not the best. You been up all night not being able to sleep from being too hot to throwing up to not being comfortable. Which caused Simon not to sleep, due to being worried about you. He would hold your hair up if you were too tired to even notice it was falling inside the toilet. Simon would wash your hair as you cried. Shushing you to keep you from having a panic attack.

You hated all of what was happening to you where you couldn’t enjoy being pregnant. Counting the days not to see your kid but to have her out. It was like you were hating the fact of everything no that was happening. Feeling like a curse then a miracle. Simon was the opposite even though he was heartbroken to see his love going through only hardship, the thought of having a mini both of you made him warm inside. Bringing it up once had you excited until you would hurl once more.

Simon would bend over backwards for anything you needed. Needed a bath Done. Needed a craving. Done and done again. Needed to be carried to the bed. Done. Needed a belly lift. Done. Anything was possible for Simon if it was for you. Nothing would stop him from helping you.

Was it perfect? Not always. Even when you both were tired and exhausted, you would fight, he would always be right by you. No matter what the fight was about, lately things that were ridiculous.

You both finished a fight and made up as he pet your damp hair, rubbing his other hand on your swollen belly. You were laying on his chest in bed, having your belly rest on the comfort of the mattress.

Sweat consumed you, your body working overboard on making your child and keeping you from not dying from everything else. It was silent before you sobbed. You were done, nothing for you. Your feet hurt. You felt like a whale. And your husband hated you. You’ve been only a bitch since you got pregnant and you were done.

You kept repeating in your head that he truly didn’t want to be here that you were just an excuse of a wife. That he never wanted to help you. That he wished you were gone. All because he didn’t get you your pebble ice. Simon had to leave the house for a while and what did he bring back? The stupid fucking ice. You called him a coward for leaving and not say anything about you said just for him to gift you?

Simon’s heart broke when your son burst out, your body shaking. Concern written on his face as he made your face turn to him. “Love what’s wrong?”

You cried harder as you laid your face in his shirt. “I want her out. And I feel terrible that I don’t want to do this anymore. That I have been a bitch. That I can’t stop throwing up. That this whole pregnancy hasn’t been what people have been saying.” He listened to you rubbing your back in soothing patterns. “I’ve been a terrible wife. I can’t believe I have been awful to you. You only been kind and generous and loving.”

Simon shook his head. “I could never do what you are doin’ dove,” He said quickly as he rubbed your shoulders. “This pregnancy is not been the best for ya.”

You sobbed harder as you clenched your hands into his shirt. Simon started to hush you quietly and soothingly. “You don’t deserve me.”

Simon froze from the comment, he used to say that to you at the beginning of your relationship. Telling you that he is a monster and that he would plague you with his darkness. That you were the angel and he was a demon, instead you showed him that he was the opposite. He was just lost in a broken world of his. Simon knew you were not like this. Not confident. Angry. Negative. No, you were the opposite of all of it.

Simon scooted so he would have you sit up against the frame. “Don’t you say that.” He said sternly.

You scoffed. “It’s true, I called you mean things. I said mean nasty things that are not true. Just over ice? Like how…”

“Stop,” He said stopping you dead in your tracks. “I know you didn’t mean it. Never have you showed me that. Baby,” He watched as your lips trembled, as your skin paled. “I know you love me, you are in pain just like I was. Let me help you bring yourself back as you make our child. You’re almost there love.”

You inhaled deeply as you looked away. “I’m sorry,” You turned to him and placed your hand on his cheek. “I love you Simon.”

Simon smiled and grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I love you too. This is through sickness and health yeah? We promised each other that. So that is what gonna happen.”

You laid back down on him, your heart swelled with joy. You didn’t know how you got such an amazing husband. But all you knew is that he was your soulmate and you were his.

Another month went by and the baby was in distress from your body. She would be a month and half early which could lead into problems. However since your was fighting off too many things it wanted the baby to come out. You laid in the hospital bed as they induced you to push your baby girl out. You cried as Simon held his hand on yours and a cloth against your forehead.

“You got this mama,” The gynecologist announced looking up at you. “She is almost there!”

You looked at Simon concern written on your face and his. “It’s al’ight mamas. ‘M right here.” He whispered soothing you by brushing your damp strands back.

With a couple last pushes you heard a wail. Immediately relief went through your body as you laid all the way down into the bed. You panted as nurses and the doctor tended to the baby. Simon watched back and forth between you and the baby. “Go-Go see her.” You whispered gulping air.

You watched as he gave you a concerned look then nodded. You watched as he looked over the shoulders and smiled. Your heart fluttering. One of the nurses came to look over you. She said something but you couldn’t hear her. You felt nauseous and weak, lightheadedness coming in full swing.

The nurse called out as you felt your eyes roll. After that it was dark, you felt like actual sleep took hold. When you woke up, you were in a different room in the hospital, mouth was dry. When you looked over you saw Simon asleep with your baby girl against his bare chest.

You smiled. “They have been so cute,” You turned your head to see the doctor walking in. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed and coughed a bit. “Thirsty.”

“I bet. You had a blood clot form after giving birth to your baby girl. It can be common and could cause from your body being on overdrive to fix you. You are on blood thinners so take it easy. You have a healthy baby girl, she might be a little smaller than usual but that is expected from a early birth,” she explained looking over your vitals. “Your husband knows what to do. Just get to know your baby and rest.”

That you did, Simon once again by both you and both of your baby girl. Never have you felt so much relief and love. You smiled as Simon changed her diaper humming softly to her. In sickness and health. Is all you thought of as he gave you a kiss handing you your baby girl.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley imagine

[hotpinkstars]

same bitch who requested the last wrio pregnancy stuffs but I need more and I'm like kinda in love with your writing so I want to request MOREEEEEEE anyways how he deals with reader third trimester (WRIO DOTING ON U CUS UR SO ROUND AND CUTE AWEEHFUREILFRUEIWHFCIR) anyeyss thanks for listening ily nova

-> third trimester

synopsis -> wriothesley during ur third trimester of pregnancy. self explanatory

a/n -> anon ur my spirit animal i love ur energy (and u 😉) but anyways i could write so much more lmk if anyone wants a part 2

warnings -> pregnancy, lactation and vomiting mentions, besides that pure fluff

w/c -> 1.6k

he doesn’t know how to feel the moment you tell him you’re officially in the third trimester of your pregnancy. it all went by so fast, he thinks it was just yesterday you called him into the bathroom to look at the small test that changed your lives in the greatest way possible.

and now, you were almost finished growing your daughter. anyone who even took a glance your way could certainly tell that you were having a child, and it’s certainly the dukes. 

the women of the fortress have been keeping tabs on you and your pregnancy, awaiting the day you walk with your baby in your arms instead of in your stomach. they’re so nice to you, so wriothesley allows you to wander sometimes because of it. they’re always willing to make you comfortable and give you some of the nicest labor-inducing teas they can find.

now, this is around the time he’s likely going to take a work leave, or just not work as often. his job requires his undivided attention, and he has to be flexible and able to be there in case a tragedy, like the seal breaking, were to occur. (hopefully not, because he still thinks about how he’d get you out of the fortress in time. you’re unable to run and you can barely walk at a quick pace, leaving him nervous and clueless a lot, considering your living quarters were connected to a door in his office). 

besides that, your life is pretty good, despite how uncomfortable you feel all the time. you ache everywhere, and sleep is simply not a thing that comes by often anymore. so, these are the moments wriothesley is able to step in and make sure that you’re content and as comfortable as you possibly can be. 

the main thing he needs to do for you is help you stand, considering that it’s incredibly hard for you now. you can do it of course, but it’s too much effort and you always either stand and immediately sit back down due to how winded you feel, or you just don’t try at all. wriothesleys strength comes into hand in these moments, almost making you fall forward due to how quick he pulls you up (the first time he did it, it actually happened. he caught you in time, but it left you laughing and him just there like “i almost just killed you sweetheart” and worried). 

he’s so the type of husband to barely wake up when you scoot yourself out of bed to use the restroom, and him behind you giving you a little boost to get up before going right back to sleep. he’ll try to keep consciousness while you’re out of bed, in case you fall or something happens, but as soon as he sees you re-enter the room he’s out once more. 

the only times he genuinely wakes up at night is when you frantically shake/tap him or you’re crying. if you’re crying, he’ll sit up and turn on a light (if you want) and try to ask you what the problem is. if it’s just a cramp or if you’re just achy/not in the right position, he’ll massage you or help you reposition the pillows to ensure your comfort. 

and when it comes to you walking up his offices’ stairs? he’s incredibly paranoid about it, but he’ll try to not make it known. you had to tell him multiple times to settle, that the railing was enough to keep you on your balance, and that you were just pregnant, not paralyzed. he’ll still try to meet you down at the door to help you up the stairs, especially when you’re at your biggest point. he’d be anything but calm and composed if you were to take a tumble down them (he would have a heart attack on the spot). 

and oh, would that man dote on your belly. you’re just so adorable, how could he not? especially when you’re curled up on the couch in his office with a luxurious sherpa blanket and the roundness of your tummy under the cover is very evident. usually, he won’t be able to help himself and would lay down next to you, his head lightly propped up on your stomach or on the side of your body. on the occasions he falls asleep, you stroke his hair, reading whatever book in his office that has piqued your interest this time. 

he’s also a tease. sometimes. he’ll walk past you and gently brush a part of his body against your belly, usually his hip or his hand. but back to the point, he’ll rub it, massage it, hold it up to take off pressure from your back and pelvis, and cuddle it! you’re not gonna be pregnant forever, so he sees this as a chance he can’t waste. only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. if not, then he wont proceed. 

this man loves tea, so there's no surprise when he brings in a tea that he’d read induces labor, or at least makes for a smoother one. he honestly probably has so many of those types, presenting you the box and allowing you to choose which one you’d like this time. seeing your eyes sparkle and your fingers wiggle as you choose your tea of choice always makes his heart soar in adoration. 

and back on the tea thing, he’s on all of the times said book told you to have it. he’s always giving it to you right on the dot of the hour unless something else more important has taken his attention (which isn’t much, unless he’s in a meeting or something really bad has happened in fontaine/the fortress). 

he’s also one of those husbands who secretly makes an important note in his brain whenever you have an ultrasound or any sort of baby appointment coming up. he wouldn’t miss one for the world- even though it's one of the little things, it means a lot to the both of you when he shows up alongside you, and shows the world how devoted of a husband he is to you. cue clorinde in the corner taking care of his work for him during the hour that he’s away. 

like i said in my last post, his massages are incredible! usually, he’ll get the memo, and right when he gets home, he’ll set you in between his legs before rubbing the soreness out of your back, hips, shoulders, neck, foot, and calf. 

he likes to make those moments last longer, and makes him feel good if you feel good. sometimes he’ll add a little kiss to the top of your foot or along your shoulders when he’s done, making you giggle a little before going on about how he has no need to be so formal (in which he counteracts by saying something cheesy about his love for you to make you laugh once more). 

he hates seeing you in pain, and especially hates it when he hears you cry about how exhausted you are. no, not that he hates when you cry, he just hates that you have to do this all alone. obviously, he is there to give all of his support and more, and would carry the baby for you if he could, but he can't. and he knows you’re exhausted, but his issue is that there is nothing for him to do to help you feel at least a little better. he understands that it’ll come when the baby is born, and he’s already told you how for the first few weeks he’ll do anything and everything to care for the baby while you catch up on your hard-earned rest. 

another great thing about him is that he pays no mind to things such as lactation, vomiting, etc (i have genuinely seen men who make fun of their wives for things such as that out of their control). he recognizes that its just something that happens, and its normal in pregnancy, and he won't get mad at you if any of these things happen while you’re wearing his clothing, either. considering you dislike maternity clothes, you’ve been wearing his shirts lately, resulting in milk stains in some of them. you’re over here apologizing profusely while he gives you a soft lecture on how he understands that it's not your fault, that it's out of your control. because he also knows for certain that if this was something you could control, you’d choose to not have it happen. 

this guy is clingy at night, so when he realizes that cuddling you is kind of out of the options, either due to your absolutely obnoxious, in his words pregnancy pillow, or your belly is in the way, he’s certainly not thrilled. but he finds a way, which is usually just spooning you from behind or bringing your head to his chest. the first time you two did the second method, you felt embarrassed, due to your tummy barely even being able to fit the gap between you and his hip, but as time went on, you just didn’t care anymore, literally laying like half on top of him. not like he cares either. thats what he wanted you to do in the first place. 

and in the times your so so clingy, wanting to just lay flat on top of him and forget about everything and just be in the warm, strong embrace of your husband, he’s even more crafty! usually uses the side method once again unless you quite literally find a position that’ll make you as close as you possibly could be to him. sometimes it’s incredibly uncomfortable, but if it makes you happy and safe and content, he won’t fight it. just know that this might be the only time you get to do that very position with him. 

overall, mans is a great fucking husband during your pregnancy, always super patient with you and would never shame you for things out of your control. you know he’s so so soft for you and you love him so so so so much.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x reader fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin impact fluff #cw pregnancy

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Hi, I have a request if you don't mind...

Any of the batboys [Or poly with all of them ;)] with an ultra-feminine Reader, with a filthy *wink* *wink* mouth.

She is very into dresses, makeup, dressing up and everything that is considered 'girly', and their mate just thinks she will be all soft and innocent too, how most guys think "Just how females are supposed to be" (Obv, not the bat boys cause they love their women all loud and powerful)

But she literally has the wildest, dirtiest, most unhinged thoughts and just says them without a second thought

and the first time it happens, during IC dinner, she says a string of swears or just says the most sexual thing to her mate and everyone in the IC eyes them and Nesta/Elain (who was a little cold to her for whatever reason) just goes "Ok I was wrong, I love this bitch"

Dirty mouth.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; SWEARING :') , suggestive

Masterlist.

Hello I really hope this is what you had in mind! I had so much fun writing this! If you don't like it you can always ask me to rewrite it I won't get offended. Hope you enjoy it! <3

When you first met Azriel, and the bond snapped you felt like the luckiest female in the world. The shadowsinger was the best mate someone could wish for, he treated you like a queen and even though it had only been six months since you accepted the bond, you felt like you knew everything about him.

You couldn’t say the same for him though since you decided to keep your bolder personality hidden not wanting to scare him away. Azriel only saw a female who cared about clothes and shopping with her friends, he told you how sweet and delicate you are multiple times and always tried to be soft in bed. At first you enjoyed all the protectiveness and affection but as the months passed you decided to stop overthinking before you spoke and let Azriel see who you really are.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should try these cookies, I got them from the new bakery” Feyre exclaimed and placed a big box on the dining table.

You were in the dining room at the house of wind with the inner circle, Azriel was sitting next to you with one protective wing wrapped around you.

Everyone took a cookie, including your mate who took a bite and let a soft moan.

“What was that?” Cassian chuckled.

“Oh he really likes it, that's the noise he makes when I suck his cock” you giggled.

Azriel choked on the cookie, Rhysand and Cassian gaped at you and the girls burst into laughter. You quirked a brow at Nesta who always gave you a hard time and she winked.

“What did you say?” Azriel asked when he stopped choking.

“That’s how you moan when I suck your cock just before you finish in my thro…” he covered your mouth with his palm and stared at you wide-eyed.

Nesta went hysteric and shouted, “okay I love you”.

That was the first time Azriel saw your true self and as the days passed and you made more comments like that and started cursing too his whole attitude changed and he finally started treating you like he wasn’t afraid of breaking you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were in a meeting with the inner circle and Eris to find a way to kill Beron, the Autumn heir though kept making offensive comments to your mate and you could feel your patience running thin.

“How does it feel to be touched by those disgusting hands?” Eris asked you and silence filled the room.

“Most of the times I squirt” you replied with a smirk. Eris frowned while Azriel’s breath hitched.

“What happened lordling? Cat got your tongue, or you just can’t process the fact that the shadowsinger fucks better than you?” you teased him and got up.

You grabbed the Truth-Teller from your mate and approached Eris.

“Do you know how many times he has fucked me with this?” you asked and touched the tip of the dagger on his cheek. Rhys tensed but Cassian grabbed his shoulder with a proud look.

Azriel’s face flushed, and he gaped at the scene in front of him.

“Do you want to have the honor to feel this inside you too?” you asked, and he shook his head, his face paled.

“Then I suggest shutting your fucking mouth before I sew it.” You growled and walked back to your mate.

The meeting finished after a while and Azriel cupped your jaw staring deep in your eyes

“You never fail to amaze me” he mumbled and kissed you “but to be honest you are scaring me a bit” he continued and smiled.

“And you haven’t seen all of me yet” you replied and pecked his nose before exiting the office, leaving a very worried shadowsinger inside.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time it happened you were having a game night with your friends, you and Azriel were winning but Cassian and Nesta were close behind only two points away.

“You have 7 red” Nesta said.

“Siphons” Cassian exclaimed.

“Oh and Azriel’s siphons are..”

“Blue”

“Time!” Feyre said.

“It’s a tie” Rhysand announced.

“Oh come on those were so easy like asking him what his name is” you protested and Azriel chuckled.

“No I’m just better than you” Cassian teased you.

“Oh fuck off brute” you scoffed, Azriel spat his wine and stared at you.

“Seriously you have to warn me before you do that.” He mumbled and grabbed a napkin.

“Does it hurt to share the victory you little bitch?” Cassian smirked.

“Does it hurt to know that your mate fakes it every night?” Cassian turned to Nesta who was laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re a cocksucker” He shouted and winked to show that he was just messing with you.

“And a good one, ask Azriel” your mate shook his head and glanced at Feyre who was covering Nyx' ears.

After a small fist fight with Cassian, you both burst into laughter and hugged.

“You act like babies” Rhysand spoke. “Shut up” you and Cassian said simultaneously making the high lord lean his head back with a desperate look on his face.

“Okay I think you had enough wine for tonight my little cocksucker” Azriel teased and grabbed your shoulders “Let’s get you in bed”.

“I will show you how good I am” you winked and let him guide you into your shared bedroom ignoring Cassian’s gags.

After a while Azriel got used to your dirty mouth and the way you threatened whoever disrespected him and actually enjoyed it. He felt good having someone to protect him for a change and fight his battles. A few months later he noticed that he started cursing more and was horrified when he realized that he was acting like you, later he started making vulgar comments too and everyone groaned “Now we have two of them”. You had never felt prouder for your mate.

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #rhysand #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #shadowsinger x reader #night court #inner circle #acotar fanfic #cassian acotar #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta acotar #nesta x cassian #the night court #velaris #city of starlight #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #acowar #acomaf

[jflemings]

— run

pairing: kyra cooney cross x reader

synopsis: you and kyra continue to love eachother in secret

warnings: none

a/n: i had this fic pretty much finished before tumblr DELETED it i’m so pissed

♫ what’s queued masterlist

Give me the keys, I'll bring the car back around

We shouldn't be in this town

pelting rain outlines kyra’s silhouette as she jogs down the street to your car. one hand holds her hood on top of her head whilst the other is tucked in her pocket in an effort to fend off the biting cold.

your headlights illuminate her as she gets close, giving you a full view of her cold-bitten face and slightly shivering form. as she approaches your passenger door you quickly open it for her and she slides in easily before hastily closing the door behind her. she peels off her rain-soaked hoodie and throws it in your backseat, reaching behind you to grab her green white fox hoodie she had thrown back there one afternoon.

“sorry, i couldn’t get away from them” she apologised with an annoyed pout “caitlin wouldn’t let me leave without asking a million questions”

you smirk and begin to drive whilst turning up the heat and pressing play on your shared playlist. as you pass beth and viv’s place you see multiple shadows crowding the window, the arsenal women practically on top of eachother trying to get a look at where kyra was rushing of to.

the midfielder beside you ducks her head down and sinks down in her seat “don’t let them see me” she mumbles

you pat her thigh and laugh “don’t worry ky, i’m sure they didn’t see you just slide down in your seat” you tease with a laugh.

she pouts again and furrows her brows “they’re all so nosy! i couldn’t get away quick enough”

“they’re just curious kyra” you half heartedly defend “it’s not like you’re subtle”

kyra holds her hands in front of the heat in an attempt to warm them up faster, the quick change in temperature making a shiver run down her spine “i’m subtle!” she argues “they wouldn’t even think anything is different if leah hadn’t loudly announced that she thought i was secretly seeing someone”

you let your head fall back against your seat as you come to a stop at a red light “you didn’t help your case by going bright red”

“i didn’t mean to!”

you can’t help but laugh at her exasperated expression. the thought of her club teammates finally knowing about you let loose a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, the nervousness almost being too thick to swallow.

“it’s okay ky” you assure softly “it was bound to happen”

“you’re not mad?” she asks shyly

you turn to her and place your hand on the bottom of her jaw, half on her neck. your thumb caresses her freckled cheek slowly “no i’m not mad”

she takes your hand off her neck and kisses your knuckles delicately, her lips softly touching each of them before she joins your hands and places them on her thigh. kyra hums contentedly and faces you “sorry for the hassle”

“no hassle at all. i get to have you to myself for a few days, i’m as happy as can be” you squeeze her hand twice “and we’re long overdue for a small getaway”

And my so-called friends, they don't know

I'd drive away before I let you go

“you just don’t know her like i do”

you best friend rolls her eyes from where she’s sitting on her bed “you said that about the last girl you dated and we know how that turned out”

you furrow your brows “that’s not fair” you defend pointedly, your blood beginning to boil at the thought of kyra being compared to her.

“she won’t introduce you to her friends and you won’t let us meet her! for all we know she’s a bitch who’s just gonna fuck you over” she throws her hands out slightly “all i’m asking is for you to hear me out”

“and all i’m asking is for you to understand that kyra isn’t like that” you huff, beginning to grab your things “it’s not fair that you compare my past relationship to her when you don’t know anything”

your friend kicks her legs out and flips down onto her bed, sighing deeply as she puts her hand behind her head “i’m looking out for you, i know how you get with relationships.”

the low blow comment is your tipping point. you can’t tell if you’re angry because she’s right or because she’s voicing her opinion on something she knows absolutely nothing about.

it was true, kyra wouldn’t introduce you to her friends, but her reasoning had always been that she’s selfish. she’s so selfish that she doesn’t want to share any of you with anyone, not even steph or caitlin or lessi, kyra wants you all to herself. you didn’t even know if they knew you existed but you didn’t really care because the australian had completely encapsulated your mind and overtaken your body. she had wrapped herself around you like plated gold, made you shiny and new and worth something. at least in your eyes.

wordlessly you stand, takeaway coffee cup in hand, and push your seat in loudly. her eyes follow you as your chest rises and falls with frustration, confusion painted on her features.

“i love kyra, and she has proven that she loves me. that should be enough for you because it’s enough for me” you spit, turning on your heel without anymore argument and walking yourself out to your car.

There's a chain 'round your throat, piece of paper where I wrote

"I'll wait for you"

kyra unclasps the dainty, gold heart locket around her neck. she fiddles with it for a moment, making sure that it doesn’t tangle, before placing it down in her cubby safely. it twinkles under the bright light of the change rooms and for a moment, the small piece of jewellery has all her attention.

she smiles when she thinks about what’s hidden inside the locket. the small photo of the two of you and an even smaller note you left for her before the last international break.

i’ll wait for you was written in your handwriting and kept around her neck, the words being an unspoken declaration of your love.

you had slipped the paper in there the night before she had to jet off to play uzbekistan when she was at the height of her uneasiness regarding your blossoming relationship. guilt had sunk it’s teeth into kyra when charli had made a harmless joke about her sneaking around with someone and just being too embarrassed to tell anyone about it. her mind had raced and wondered if you felt the same, wondered if you thought that she was embarrassed by you.

in the bright moonlight your eyes had shone and she had expressed to you that it wasn’t embarrassment that was keeping her from publicly being with you, it was selfishness and fear. she had choked through the words and fought back tears as she explained and you, in all your angel-like glory, had just softly put a hand on her face and smiled understandingly.

you then tore off the corner of a page from your journal and wrote those four words, handing it to kyra “put this in your locket, so you’ll always know” you whispered to her softly.

she looked at you curiously, her tired eyes conveying confusion before realisation dawns on her. she sits up and opens the locket around her throat, slipping in the message before securing it with a small, almost mute click.

she smiles at the memory, getting lost in the moment just as victoria stands next to her. vic knocks their shoulders together affectionately “that’s a really pretty necklace” she compliments

kyra nods gratefully “thanks, it’s my good luck charm”

“from your mum?” vic asks curiously “i noticed you wearing it after christmas”

“no” kyra says quietly “just from a friend”

the dutch woman nods and smiles secretly like she knows something no one else does “i’d love to meet this friend, if i could”

kyra begs to blush before wiping her face with the collar of her shirt “i’ll, um, i’ll talk to her. she’d love to meet you too” the australian smiles softly, mimicking her friend’s earlier affectionate gesture and knocking their shoulders together again.

So you laugh like a child

And I'll sing like no one cares

kyra lifts the conti cup trophy with her teammates, the australian flag draped over her shoulders flutters with her movements as she bounds around with alessia.

she’s thrown her head back in a joyous laugh and points out to the singing crowd, north london forever echoing off the stands and into the sky. you sit surrounded by a sea of red and white, the passion and love that’s held for this club blooming more and more in your chest the louder you sing.

seeing the young woman you love so full of joy and pride makes your heart swell and burst over and over again. winning a piece of silverware during her first wsl season had been a topic that you two had spoken about during the late hours of the night after she’d let you know her fears of not performing well. the pressure had been crushing her from the minute she debuted, the australian midfielder had been desperate to live up to her world cup performance and she vowed that every minute she got on the pitch would be impactful and meaningful.

her hard work and determination had payed off. the fear, anxiety and unease had finally lifted off of kyra’s chest and mind and now she was lifting a trophy.

in the midst of the chaos she finds you wearing one of her worn jerseys and singing your little heart out. she can’t help but smile as she jogs over to you and jumps into your arms as best she can, her breath fanning over the shell of your ear as she speaks directly into it

“my good luck charm” she whispers before pulling away from you grinning wide “thank you for being here”

“there’s no where else i’d rather be” you assure her with a soft smile, your eyes scanning her flushed freckled face lovingly. your hands move from her shoulder blades to her collarbones, fingertips slipping under her shirt slightly “i love you” you whisper to her.

a blush creeps over kyra’s face and she looks down shyly “i love you too” she murmurs back to you, quickly looking over her shoulder before looking into your eyes “dinner tonight?”

“your place” you nod before pushing her back towards the pitch and her awaiting teammates. she smiles cheekily at you before turning around and running back to her beloved teammates, your smile playing on her mind.

There's a heart on your sleeve

I'll take it when I leave

And hold it for you

kyra traces over the heart tattoo on your bicep, her finger outlining the shape delicately over and over again. she knows she should really be getting up but the sight of you laying on your stomach tucked under her covers leaves her wanting to stay where she is for just a little longer.

your eyes flutter open gently and you stir slightly, snuggling yourself further into kyra’s side and soft sheets “coffee?” you rasp out

“in a little bit” the midfielder responds “i want to stay here with you for as long as i can”

humming, you pull the covers tightly over both of your shoulders in a cocoon-like fashion, the comforter creating a barrier between you and the outside world. kyra continues to trace the heart etched into your arm, her mindless outlining lulling her into a dazed trance.

“i love you” she mumbles into her sheets before slowly sitting up. she throws one leg over the edge of the bed whilst the other stays half crossed, her shoulders sag and she rubs her hands over her face before turning on the bedside lamp.

“say it again” you instruct her, loving the way the words easily roll off her tongue

she tiredly smirks at you and leans down, tucking her chin in the crook of your neck. her hair tickles your ears as she snuggles against you “i love you” she murmurs into your neck, her lips pressing feather light kisses to your warm skin.

pushing yourself up off the bed, you too sit up momentarily before sliding off of kyra’s bed. you hold your hands out to her “c’mon stargirl, coffee time”

the australian pouts but takes your hands anyway, allowing you to pull her up and into you. she continues to wear a slight frown even as you go to walk out of her room and she digs her heels into the floor, stopping you in your tracks.

“what?”

“you didn’t say it back”

you smile endearingly at her “i love you too” using your interlocked hands you drag her back into your space, smiling when her hand subconsciously lands on your heart tattoo. your lips ghost hers “so much”

kyra closes the gap, capturing your lips with hers in a time stopping moment. when she pulls away from you her freckled cheeks are dusted pink, a common occurrence when she’s around you, and he’s wearing a dopey grin on her face despite the early morning.

“you’ve gotta get your shit together because steph will have your ass if you’re late to the airport”

“ruining the moment!”

Say you'll never let 'em tear us apart

And I'll hold onto you while we run

kyra slumps down in her seat, kicking her legs out in front of her as she buries her face in her phone.

it was your day off meaning that after kyra had finally left for the airport — much to her dismay — you had returned to the sanctuary that was her bed. with the knowledge that you’re tucked under her covers without her there, she frowns and huffs without thinking.

caitlin knocks her foot against kyra’s “what’s up your ass”

kyra’s head snaps to her teammate “nothing” she grumbles “just wanna go back to bed”

“leave the missus at home, did you?”

kyra freezes and she doesn’t dare look anywhere but her phone. the midfielder’s heart is beating out of her chest and she feels like she can’t breathe. caitlin sits awaiting an answer in her peripheral vision, an infuriating smirk that says ‘i knew it’ is planted on her face along with her ultra-lax aura that says she really doesn’t care even though kyra knows that this topic of conversation has been bugging her for months now.

“yes” she clips “she’s in bed all snuggled up and i’m sitting in an airport with you, so, i guess that’s what’s up my ass” kyra states bluntly

caitlin’s eyes damn near pop out of her head, the answer and the manner in which it was said surprising her “snippy” she mumbles amused “when can we meet her?”

“when i’m sure you’re not going to scare her off”

the forward rolls her eyes “if she’s been with you for this long then i highly doubt i’m going to be able to scare her off” she says, picking at her chipped nails “but i gotta make sure you’re not wearing rose coloured glasses ‘n all that”

kyra huffs and allows her phone to fall flat on her chest. she adjusts her position so her voice is clearer “i love you” she starts, gaining caitlin’s attention “but i also love her. and as much as i respect you, your opinion isn’t going to change that.”

a face splitting grin overtakes caitlin’s face, her blue eyes shining with pride as she looks at kyra. she reaches over and pats her thigh lovingly “good” she says shortly “that’s all that matters to me”

and we'll run

#Spotify #pegs writes #pegs woso #woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #pegs tillies #matildas x reader #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross fic #kyra cooney cross imagine #arsenal #auswnt

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

[a-spes]

T H E D O G ' S F A L L - One shot.

Words count - 5,2k.

Tags & Warnings - mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, angst, harm/comfort, manipulation, mentions of blood/past abuses, human trafficking.

Summary - Anyone that can beat her in a fight will earn her, and Natasha intends to be the one, working hard to get what she thinks is hers. A dog can't fight for eternity, can it?

Moodboard here.

N/A - It's the longest os I've wrote so far, took me a lot of time but it's enventually here so I really hope you'll enjoy it! If it's the case, don't hesitate to let me know by interacting with the post :)

It is at the back of that popular night club that everything is happening, where no one can see your distress except the one that enjoys it, where everyone is too busy having fun to pay attention to the veritable purpose of this building. On a dark corner that light never reaches, a man is guarding the most important secret of that place, and very few are the people he lets through; only rich and influential men and women get their ticket for this special spectacle that takes place here every night.

Down there, the loud music is replaced by the shouts of excited men that makes her sigh; why do they have to scream like animals? If she gets a few glances, no one dares to say anything as the infamous Black Widow is walking through the crowd to get to her place. She has blood on her back, people are whispering, some from admiration, others from fear, but no one stays indifferent - how could they? One of the most important mafia bosses of the city, but also one of the most discreet, is here. She has her reputation and, even if she is rarely seen, she is well-known, so none of the men dares to protest when she decides to take place in their lodge, chasing them out of the room. 

From here, she has a perfect view of the cage and, most importantly, of the Dog.

It is obvious that there is no way out of the ring, that you are trapped in that cage until one of these men’s victory - or your last breath - but, somehow, you still believe that defeating them will lead you out of that basement. So, not caring about how many of them are daring to step in your cage, you beat them, one by one. You watch the man you just defeated being escorted out of the cage so the next one could take his place - it gives you a few seconds to catch your breath. 

The world is spinning, you can’t even see the faces of your opponents, but you don’t give up. Even if the only thing you want is to curl up in the corner, crying for your mom, you can’t. You can’t because it will mean giving them your life. No, you need to be stronger than them, to pretend that you don’t feel the pain inflicted by their blows, to pretend that you are not bothered by the metallic taste of the blood in your mouth, they need to believe you could do that all night. But you are not foolish and you know damn well that you won’t last long. 

It is hard to focus on anything, even on breathing, because you are overwhelmed by a crew you can't even see, blinded by the lights; you are the spectacle. They all came to see the Dog fighting, hoping to witness its fall. They are shouting, mostly insults in Russian, whistling and clapping everytime something exciting is happening during a fight, but it won’t be enough to save you from that place. 

Oh, at first, they were cheering for you, but it slowly changed, people getting tired of seeing your pretty face every night. They thought you would be easy to break and hated to be proven wrong, and you perfectly know that the stakes have changed. It is no longer about giving them what they want, entertainment, it is purely about surviving and you noticed how the attitude of your opponents changed over the weeks, becoming more aggressive.

You were a champion, now you are just a little bitch they need to get rid of. 

The organization that threw you in that rat hole understood that as much as you did and, tonight, they changed the rules. Tonight, it'll be only you against the world, until they are tired of it. No break, no help, everytime one leaves, the next one is already stepping in the ring, as an endless torture. 

Tonight, she will be one of them. She has been looking at you hungrily since the first time she came here, and she knows that you will be hers by the end of the night, after all she came just for that, to take you home.

Even if she is here every night, you never had a chance to notice the woman. She was always sitting in the last row, observing you from her balcony, where she is hidden by the shadow, but she noticed you for sure. The time she came, it was only because of one of her associates that wanted to meet here specifically, she never left since. From the moment her eyes landed on you, she was unable to think about anything else, the way you were looking so innocent but so feroce at the same time got her heart. 

She sent a few of her best men, knowing they would lose, as a test, waiting for the moment it would be her turn to enter the cage. She never expected them to win and she would have killed them if they had the audacity to: she is the one that is supposed to defeat you, the only one that has the right to own you. The urge to possess you only grew stronger over the weeks, being deeper every time she came here, she wants to see you as you are breaking under her effect, to control every aspect of your life. 

So she patiently waited for the right time to come, she always liked a bit of challenge anyway, having a soft spot for things that are hard to get. She worked hard to get you, spending weeks observing every of your movements: she learned how you are fighting and your habits, she learned to read your body and face as if she was on your mind, and that’s the difference with the others: if you are a game for them, for her, you are a goal she must reach at all costs. 

As soon as your eyes laid on her, you knew she wouldn’t back up, somehing in the way she stepped in the cage already made all the difference. It is her confidence. It is the smirk on her face, a cocky one. It is the way her hands are stuck in her pockets while she is observing you. It is the slight sigh as she gets rid of her leather jacket. It is all these details that give the impression that she is just here to settle a formality, already certain of her victory.

Even the way she is moving has something unrealist. Every step, every look, is calculated and almost imperceptible. Usually, you would step forward, ready to fight even before they entered the cage to show them you are not afraid, but this time? You can’t help but instinctively step back when she enters. The movement was slight, as you were already leaning the grid but she noticed it, the way her aura is pressuring you, and she loves it.

As soon as the door was closed, your fate was sealed.

It all happened really fast because she knew exactly what to do, she prepared for that moment. You quickly realized that you were right: the woman had nothing in common with the men you were fighting against earlier, you never stood a chance to win that fight. The realization is more painful than the blows she is currently throwing at you. Every punch you try to land, she knows exactly how to dodge it. As if she was on your mind, she knows exactly where to hit to get you weak, stealing your breath and your strenght, having you on your knees then laying on the floor in less than a few minutes. 

At first, you tried to get up, to fight, but she is faster than you are, and wiser, and stronger, and more trained. She is being pretty much better in everything. Soon your vision is so blurry that you can’t see anything, you are feeling so weak that even moving your fingers or keeping your eyes open is just too much. 

"Stay still,” she quietly ordered when she noticed you were struggling against her grip - she had you pinned down on the ground by pressing her foot on your back and grabbed your hair to lift a bit your head. "You're going to be mine no matter what, so don't make things harder for yourself, honey." 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

You hear the countdown but, this time, it is not your victory that is announced, it is hers. As soon as her name is shouted by the crew, her grip releases your hair but you simply don't have the strength to move, the news leaves a void in your chest. The pain, but mostly this feeling of emptiness, is keeping you frozen in place. She owns you, and this simple idea is sending shivers through your whole body. You don't realize yet what is happening, thinking that, maybe, it is just a cruel joke on you, and it explains the lack of reaction when she asks you to get up; she needs to grab your arm and lift to get you on your feet. 

You stumble, fighting the urge to vomit. Your brain can barely process what is happening, especially when you realize that your feet are not touching the ground anymore. In her arms, you are nothing more than a rag doll, silent and motionless, barely having the energy to keep your eyes open. 

"She is not for sale,” she coldly said, her voice bringing you back to reality. As she was on her way to get out of the night club, some men were offering the woman outrageous amounts of money in the hope of getting you, they all backed up once she coldly glanced at them. "No one will ever take you away from me, do you hear that, love? You are safe as long as you’re with me," she then whispered in your ears. 

You drift into unconsciousness as soon as the car starts, despite the woman that kept begging you to keep your eyes open, the way she was cadling you not helping. You just had enough time to notice the men sitting at the front of the black van, both armed and intimidating, before falling into darkness. 

You opened your eyes again when the car stopped in an alley. It is late, the sun gave its throne to the moon a long time ago and, even if you can't tell what time it is, you know it is the middle of the night. How many hours did you spend down there, fighting for your life? The question makes you sick because the only answer is too many. All these hours for nothing because, no matter how hard you triee, you loose. You were never supposed to win their twisted game, you never got a chance and you slowly realize that the promised freedom was just a lure. For weeks you believed them, you played along their rules, thinking it was the only way to get your life back.

And here you are, in the arms of your new owner, a woman you know nothing about but that now has every rights on you, even if you will live depends exclusively on the redhead's choices. The fear twists your stomach, the humiliation clenches your throat and the exhaustion makes your eyes burning, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeat in your head, but you don't know for how long you will be able to keep your tears for yourself.  

The woman is not looking at you at all, she is concentrating on not falling as she is walking to the house, barely seeing where her feet are landing. You, however, can't help but observe every detail of her face, noticing how serious her expression is. You are trying to guess how your life is going to be by her side, but you can't, she is a complete mystery and you hate that.

A part of you wants to go back in that basement. It may have been a living hell, but you had your habits, you knew how to survive, now you will have to learn everything again. 

You notice that two armed persons are guarding the front door and, when you pass by them, they exchange a few words in Russian. You can't understand a word of what they are saying, but you guess they are greeting the woman, beside some insults, you don't know a lot and only because that's how they used to call you.

The inside of the penthouse is exactly as you imagined it: expensive, tidy and minimalist. You never felt comfortable in that kind of environment, it always reminded you that you will never have a place in that sphere, you are nothing more than their animal, a dog that does everything they want. 

Once inside, you almost expected her to drop you on the floor but she didn't. Her grip is strong, as if she doesn't want to let you go, that's because she is scared too. She exchanged a few words in Russian with a woman before heading upstairs. 

Your eyes closed because of the light, you don't see much more of the house, nor of where you are going. You can feel that she climbs the stairs, takes a few turns and walks through a door before she eventually lets you go. It is with care that she sits you on the floor of the bathroom. 

"Here we are," she whispered, "you can open your eyes, love," she added when she noticed they were still closed. If you can't see her smile, you can feel her hand brushing your cheek. 

For weeks you didn't see anything else than pitch darkness and the dimmed light of the basement where you were fighting, it is great to eventually be able to see something else. She even made sure to not turn the big light on, only a small one in the corner that diffuses a subdued light. Somehow, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel comfortable. 

"Let me help you," she said, coming closer to kneel in front of you when she realized you couldn't take your bath alone.

On the way home, she sent a message for one of her maids to run a bath for you to enjoy when you arrived. The mirrors fog up and a scent of jasmine fills the room, but even if the idea of taking a bath sounds good, you don't move. You are curled at the exact place she left you in, your knees against your chest.

You are like a dog, but nothing like a fighting one, she thought when she saw how you tried to back up when she reached for your shirt.

"I am not going to do anything," she quietly said, trying to sooth you by using a gentle tone and caressing your cheek with her thumb. "I am going to help you to get rid of those rags so you can get a bath, okay? Then, we can clean your wounds and have a good meal, does this sound good?" she asked and you slowly nodded. 

She helps you to get rid of your clothes that are closer to rags honestly as they have holes in them, the fabric being soaked in dirt, blood and sweat, sticking to your skin. You never felt so vulnerable than right now, under her serious gaze, what is she thinking about? It is impossible to guess but you can feel her eyes on your body as she looks you up and down. A quick glance which allows her to take a mental note about all your injuries.

"What are you doing?" she chuckled, when her eyes didn’t land on your chest but on your crossed arms - you were trying to hide, how cute. "How silly you are,” she whispered when noticing you didn't seem to understand what she was talking about, "thinking you can hide like that."

Her tone sounded too sweet for it to genuinely be and there is something behind her gentle tone that is rigging alarms in your head. You can't tell what it is exactly, but there is that weird feeling, your instinct screaming at you to be careful when your body just wants to give up and be in her arms, ‘cause what could go wrong?

She takes your hands to pull them away from your chest so you can’t hide from her anymore. Her grip is firm, just a little too strong so you understand that, despite her sweet smile, she won't hesitate to be harsh with you if you don’t behave. However, she still seems to be extra careful while moving you, as if you were a porcelain doll, because for nothing in the world she would hurt her fragile princess. She  slowly takes your arms away so she can give a glance at all your injuries. What she sees makes her sigh, she seems about to say something but keeps her words for herself ; you should have been more careful. 

She helped you to get in the bath and it was a nice moment, a few minutes you got for yourself because, surprisingly, she let you bathe yourself alone. Oh, she wasn’t far away, just at the other end of the room, keeping a close eye on you at every time, but dealing with something on her phone. She would occasionally comment on the way you were doing things, talking you throught it so you can shower the proper way, her way. Once you are done, she wraps you on a soft towel, bandages your wounds and gives you clothes that are hers, a hoodie and a short, and you can’t help but notice how good they are smelling, how comfortable you are feeling in these.

"Did you say something?" she genuinely asked, turning to you because she was sure she heard you mumbling a few words. 

She was talking about your life here, talking almost alone as you weren’t really talkative, but thinking she would miss the words you whisepered was a mistake because she never misses anything.

"Nothing important," you replied, but this answer doesn't seem to please the woman, something twitching in her eyes, coming from soft to sharp.

"When I ask you a question, you reply to it, am I clear?” she said, immediately leaving what she was doing to come close to you and grab your chin.  “You are not the one that gets to decide what’s important, your small brain can't handle big decisions and that's why I am here. I mean, see how it got you to be by yourself …" she continued, looking at you with disdain, as if she was thinking that it is only your fault if you ended up in that rat hole, caught in human trafficking. “I am here to give you a second chance and you better take it ‘cause it may be the last… so don't talk to me like that ever again, did I make myself clear enough?"

The only answer you are able to give her is a whining accompanied by a sniffle and she obviously doesn’t like that. Even if you tried your hardest to not let those tears rolling down your cheeks, you can’t help it, her harsh words only making things worse because you are already hating to disapoint the woman. 

"If I knew you would cry, I would've sold you ..", she sighed in annoyance, her nails digging into your skin, "I hate cry-babies, understand?" she asked, but it wasn’t not a question: it was a warning. "The fighter I saw in that ring must be here when I am back," she coldly added before releasing the pressure she was exerting on your face.

She leaves, slamming the door shut so you easily understand that she is upset with you reacting that way. She has done everything she could in order to help you to be comfortable here : she gave you a bath and clothes, cleaned your wounds, promised you a meal and a bed, even gave you comfort but it still doesn't seem to be enough because you were crying as if she was some sort of monster, and she can't bear that vision. She tried to repeat to herself that you are just tired, that things are going to get better with time but it doesn’t calm her down. Whether you want it or not, she will make sure that, one way or another, you will accept her and she won't hesitate to use the hard way if she has to. 

When she comes back, she notices that didn't move an inch, scared by what the woman could say and impressed by the bedroom. But it didn’t prevent your eyes from wandering around the room. It is really minimalist, there is nothing that could give you a hint about the person she is, everything is exactly where it should be, not a speck of dust and no personal objects. It feels like a hotel room more than hers.

When you hear the door, your gaze settles on the woman. Your knees are bent against your chest as if it could protect you from all the dangers of the world. She probably left you for only five minutes, but they felt like hours. Your thoughts had time to run while waiting for her : what about trying to escape? But it never worked, it’s always a dead end, a path to regrets because they always find you, making sure you won’t even think about doing it again and, if they do not find you, it's someone else. You learned that there is no escape and gave up on going back to your old life a long time ago. It is not even the fear of the armed men that is keeping you here, it's the void in you when you think about what you would do if you were free again, nothing. Nothing because you forgot how to live on your own. So you didn't move, not even a finger because she didn't ask you to do it, only being a dog that lives for its masters' will.

But what piques your curiosity is more the tray in her hands than anything else. As soon as she enters the room, closing the door behind her with her foot, a pleasant smell spreads through the room. You can see many things on the tray she brought back : a glass of water, some pills, a bowl of steaming soup with bread and a plate with rice, vegetables and chicken. When was the last time you ate a real meal? Long enough for you to not remember what it was.

"Eat." she said as she put the tray on your knees.

It smells good. That's the first thought that crossed your mind when you saw the plate. For a moment, you forget about the past hours; when was the last time you got a real meal? You can't remember, not even a fragment of a memory. 

You would eat what your owners give you, eat quickly before they come back, never knowing what you are eating nor when the next meal would be; you learned to not ask too many questions. At first, it was difficult to accept such a fate: you would refuse to even taste the food they were giving to you, but it didn't last long. Eventually, you started to eat - inhale - anything you were given without thinking twice about it.

Tonight, for the first time in years, you are going to eat something else than the leftovers of someone you don't even know. Tonight, you won't have to be scared about your food being stolen. Tonight, you can even see the smoke, a sign that your meal is still hot, freshly cooked and maybe homemade.

"I-," you started, but she didn't let you finish your sentence, your lips barely had time to move that she already cut you, leaving no place for an argument.

I am not hungry, you were about to say, and she somehow knew it. She also knew it was a lie, your stomach has been painfully twisted because of that sick feeling for days, but the knot is also caused by your fears. 

It all feels a bit too perfect. It feels like a trap, a way to encourage you to let your guard down only to break you after, making the fall harder. Some did that in the past, why not her? She doesn't look less cruel than the others. Yet, when she is talking, she seems more genuine, you could believe her when she says she only wants what's best for you, that she cares, she just has a twisted way to show it. 

"Yes, you are, so eat, now," she ordered you with such a cold tone that you don't dare to argue. There are all these warnings she doesn't say out loud but you can read in her eyes: just do whatever I tell you, pretty girl, they say. 

And, for sure, you don't want to face the consequences of your insubordination. So you slowly take the fork, not glancing away for one second, your eyes into hers. You are looking at every detail of her expression as if it would change, telling you that it is a trap, except it doesn't and her expression stays stern. It is impossible to read anything on her face, not even a hint of how she is feeling.

You take the first bit, carefully swallowing and… nothing happens. You don't feel weird, it doesn't taste bad and she doesn't snap at you for a small imaginary mistake you would have made. It is the complete opposite. The food is really good, melting on your tongue, and you start to eat quickly, not because you have to, but because you want to. For the first time in years, eating is a pleasure. 

She sighed when she noticed that you were inhaling your food, but she didn't say anything; she will have all the time later to change that habit of you. So she just stood there for a few seconds, observing you in silence, with her arms crossed, before sitting next to you - that's when you broke eye contact, once she was sure you would eat everything. 

As you are eating, she is barely paying attention to you, at least that's the impression she is giving. One of her arms wrapped around your shoulder, her hand is absently drawing circles on your skin while she is on her phone, dealing with something serious - you can hear her frustrated sighs from time to time.

Except she sees everything and your mistake was to not be careful enough around the woman. A little because of your clumsiness, mainly because of how fast you were eating, you dropped a bit of your food on the floor. You didn't think it was a big deal, picking it up to put it back on the plate. Three seconds rules, dropped on a clean floor, you don't have very high standards anyway - but she does. She turned to you the moment she felt you were moving, a curious, but disgusted, look on her face.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her hand grabbing your wrist before you could drop the bit of food on your plate. She moves your hand on the side of the tray, far from your plate, before you even get a chance to reply. "Drop it," she ordered to you, "that's gross, hope you weren't going to eat that." 

You shake your head, too scared to do anything else, but she knows you are lying; of course you were about to eat it. You spent the past years living like a fighting dog, you would eat anything she would give you, you might even eat directly from the dirty floor if she asked you to. She winces in disgust, not letting your hand go.

"Give me that," she snarled and you can feel how her grip tightened on your wrist to force you to give the fork away.

She then takes the tray that was in front of you to put it on her side of the bed, you are looking at her, scared she would definitely take your meal away. You are about to protest when she notices it and glances at you, daring you to say a word, you don't. 

"Come here," she said, gesturing you to come closer, she even grabbed your arm to guide you when she noticed you were hesitant to move.

She sits you between her legs and you are clearly uncomfortable, wiggling, but if she notices it, she doesn't seem to care. She is so close to you that you can feel her breath tickling your skin, but she keeps acting like nothing is weird here. When she leans to cut your food, you can feel her chest pressing against your back, the contact making your heart races. Too focused on how close you are to the woman, you barely noticed when she approached the fork from your mouth, waiting for you to open. It takes one more second for you to understand what she is waiting for and, when you do, you blush in embarrassment. She takes advantage of you opening your mouth to say something to feed you, and you don't dare to push her away. 

"Can't even eat alone, hm?" she whispered in your ear while you were chewing the bit of food she just gave you, "but that's fine, I am here now," she added, and there is something in her tone that makes you shiver.

Once she made sure you ate everything, she wrapped her arms around you, laying a kiss on your temple. It is strange how safe you are feeling in her embrace: for a few seconds you forget she is the one that beat you earlier. Right now, she is just someone that cares for you, with whom you feel at peace. You can't remember the last time someone made you feel that way, you can barely remember your life before entering the human trafficking circuit.

You don’t really know when you fell asleep, but your eyes were quick to close under the effects of her fingers running on your hair and of her voice whispering sweet words in your ears. At some point, a maid came to take the empty tray away and the woman layed the both of you in the bed, under the covers, trying her best to not wake you up. This night, you slept in a comfy bed, feeling protected in the arms of the woman despite the things she did, not even thinking one second about pushing away her hands that found their way under your sweatshirt, resting on your stomach. 

The Dog fell right into the Black Widow’s web.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #mob boss natasha romanoff #reader insert #mcu women #mcu fanfiction #angst #angst with comfort

[a-s-fischer]

One of the things I hear a lot from Gentile witches and neo-pagans who want to work with Lilith or claim to work with Lilith, is that she is actually a Mesopotamian goddess, usually either Ishtar/Inanna or Erishkigal, and that it was the Jews, with their horrible patriarchy juice, who slandered her and cast her down, and so the Jews do not deserve to say what happens to her and it isn't antisemitism to work with her, or to completely ignore what the Jews say about what she is in a Jewish context.

Lilith is not Ishtar or Erishkigal. However, there is a Mesopotamian figure that is pretty stinking analogous to Lilith, and is probably her folkloric ancestor, by which I mean the idea of Lilith probably comes from this Mesopotamian figure. In fact, Lilith almost certainly is either a Jewish version of this figure, or, they are both descended from the same Near Eastern and Mediterranean basin folkloric figure. That figure is Lamashtu.

Lamashtu is, much like Lilith, the supernatural embodiment of maternal and infant mortality, a figure of power and terror, who functions as a way to embody and cope with the profound dangers that are pregnancy, childbirth, and infancy without effective medical care. the Mesopotamians never worshiped Lamashtu, but they did seek to appease her, including making symbolic gifts to her, to keep her from visiting them, and killing them or their children.

An interesting side note is that there is also a Mesopotamian figure who specifically opposes Lamashtu and functions as the protector of pregnant women and infants, and that figure is Pazuzu, a wind spirit, who ruled over other wind spirits, including ones called the Iilu in the Akkadian language. Akkadian is a Semitic language, related to Hebrew, and this word is probably a cognate of Lilith, but the Iilu probably have no relationship to the figure of Lilith except her name. You might know Pazuzu as the demon featured in the movie, The Exorcist, and ironic fate for a mythological protector of women and children.

Anyway, if you'll remember, I implied above that the Lamashtu/Lilith figure, was present in various guises throughout the Mediterranean basin and the Near East, so there are of course figures analogous to both of them throughout the region, such as Lamia of Greece, and the Strix of Rome.

So if you really really want to work with a figure who functions as the supernatural embodiment of maternal and infant mortality, Lamashtu, Lamia, or the strix would all be excellent options that don't come from an extant closed religious practice. All the baby killing, none of the antisemitism and cultural appropriation.

While all three figures are almost certainly descended from the same folkloric root, they're all subtly different, because as stories and characters travel, they change. as such, they all have particular good points about them as figures of veneration.

Lanashtu is the OG bad bitch, who commanded fear, respect, and offerings, like a mythological mafiosa, collecting protection money.

Lamia has attached to her the story that she was one of Zeus's dubiously willing lovers, who was screwed over first by Zeus, the embodiment of patriarchical rule, then by a jealous Hera, the embodiment of patriarchal marriage, so if what attracted you to Lilith was the story from the Alphabet of Ben Sira, about a victim of the patriarchy getting her own back through violent vengeance, Lamia might be the girl for you. With her however, the emphasis is less on her murder of children, then on her seducing and eating men, though she does also get strongly associated with killing children, especially boys.

And the strix is particularly interesting, because the word comes down to us in the modern Italian word for witch, striga. Indeed, one of the theories as to where the witch figure came from in Early Medieval, and then Early Modern Christianity, was as the strix demon made human. This might explain the close association between Early Modern Witchcraft and infant mortality, including Italian stories of witches causing infants to die seemingly natural deaths, so that they could dig them up and eat them after their funerals, something that ties these human supposed witches very closely to demonic folkloric antecedents. If you are looking for a figure of unfairly maligned female power, the strix and her close association with later human witches, might be the one for you.

All three of these figures, much like Lilith herself, are reflections, both of the power women wielded even within patriarchal societies, over the process of pregnancy, birth, and childrearing, and also the powers of death and loss that everyone was subject to. There is something powerful, transgressive, and even healthy in acknowledging the fears and dangers presented by this death and loss,and for some people, that might take the form in venerating the underlying powers. If this is something that would be spiritually meaning for you, and you wish to work with such a figure, and you are not Jewish, please respect the fact that Lilith is part of a closed religious practice, and remember that Lilith has sisters, in other parts of the Mediterranean basin and the Near East, who are not from extant closed cultures, and who might serve your needs better anyway.

#a s fischer original #Lilith #jewish #jumblr #witchcraft

[astrid-sama]

Hey there! If you're still doing requests, could I get a Camilla X chubby femreader who feels insecure about her body and Camilla shows her how much she loves her and her body. It can have as much or as little smut as you like. ^^

Hi sorry it took me so long to write this but I've had a bad headache these days, anyway I hope you like it.

Carmilla Carmine x fem reader.

You were never an insecure person, you knew you didn't have the body of a super model but you still considered yourself pretty; one day however, during a meeting with overlord, Velvette (one of the biggest bitches in hell in your opinion) after having argued with your girlfriend she decided to insult you too (not because she had anything against you but because she wanted to make you angry even more so, Carmilla) said that Carmilla's terrible taste was very evident when looking at her girlfriend.

Because of Velvette's comment you started to become insecure about your body and your weight, you spent hours in front of the mirror thinking about all your flaws.

You tried to hide your body from Carmilla as much as possible; you had stopped wearing short skirts and tops, you had stopped sitting on Carmilla's lap, you had stopped showering with your girlfriend, and every time Carmilla wanted to make love to you you would find an excuse to leave.

After a short time Carmilla began to worry, she couldn't understand the reason for your strange behavior; overnight you had stopped having any kind of physical contact with her and you had drastically changed the way you dressed.

After spending a few days thinking about the reason for your behavior, Carmilla remembered the comment Velvette made in an attempt to irritate her and she finally understood what was bothering you."I just don't understand what you find in me"

You kept repeating it in your mind as you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you couldn't understand why a beautiful, powerful woman like Carmilla would want to be with you when she could have the most beautiful sinners in hell.Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the bathroom door.

-Mi amor, can I come in?-

-You can go in-

You said after putting on the robe you had taken off earlier.

-Mi amor, I'm worried about your behavior, tell me what's happening-

-...-

-Are you acting like this because of Velvette's comment? Don't give weight to his words-

-But she's right-

-Mi amor...-

-Carmilla, Velvette is right and there is no denying it. I just don't understand why you choose to be with me when you could have almost anyone. I'm not a powerful overlord like Rosie and I'm not half as beautiful as the women who work for Valentino.-

-Mi amor, what you say is not true at all; for me you are the most beautiful demon of hell, more beautiful even than Lilith, you have the biggest heart of any angel in heaven, you are a wonderful mother for my daughters and... and I love you very much mi corazón. And if you'll let me, I'll show you how much I adore you-

You didn't know how to respond, Carmilla wasn't used to saying certain things. With slightly flushed cheeks and a warm feeling in your stomach you nodded.

Carmilla kissed your lips softly, picked you up and carried you to your bedroom determined to show you how much she loves you.

And she did it all night.

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #carmilla carmine x fem reader #carmilla carmine x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla carmine

[disaster-theysbian]

Gotta say, I've been out as a lesbian for 3 years and nonbinary for a year and a half. And I've noticed something.

Just because someone *always* gets your name and pronous correct, and angrily calls out anyone who forgets, doesn't necessarily mean they support you.

Conversely, just because someone struggles to remember your name and pronouns, or can't wrap their head around gender neutral/neo pronouns at all, doesn't necessarily mean they DON'T support you.

This is applicable to any situation really not just queer shit. Watch what people do, not just what they say, and you will find your friends. Someone might shower you with compliments and have common interests with you, but what happens when you tell them no? Do they get angry when they are corrected? Do they have kind things to say about other people?

My colleagues wouldn't know a gender-neutral pronoun if one hit them in the face with a dictionary, but they make sure I've had a lunch break and get home safely. They have my back if I have a difficult patient. They defend me against other staff members who like to create drama and bitch about people as if they're still in the school playground. If someone has something to say about me being a big ol' queer, they make it known that discrimination has no place in our unit.

My best friend in the whole entire world forgets my name and pronouns every day. When the organisers of her therapy group changed "men and women" to "people" and "he/she" to "they" in order to be more inclusive, there was outcry. Everything from the "it just doesn't sound right" grammar-policing nonsense to the "f*cking special snowflakes are offended by everything". She came down on them like a ton of bricks. She said if the organisers hadn't told them that it was changing, that they wouldn't have noticed. She told them they obviously haven't loved someone outside of the gender binary and they were missing out. She then told them how she had seen me grow and develop since I came out, and how in awe she was of the person I had become. No, she doesn't understand it at all, but why should that mean that she can't be there for me and appreciate how happy I am to be able to be me? Why should that mean, because you lot don't understand it, that someone with the same issues as the rest of the therapy group feels unsafe and unwelcome and doesn't get their issues resolved? As a result, a few of them changed their minds, INCLUDING HER OWN FATHER, and the rest at least shut the hell up about it.

ON THE FLIP SIDE...

A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns delighted in making me walk on eggshells, inventing reasons to be angry with me, convinced me I was a terrible person and even went as far as to try and turn me against my own therapist. They tried to tell me that my therapist only said I was a good person because she was paid to, and that because they themselves had a psychology degree that they could tell I had all these complexes and needed to work hard to be a good person, and it was unlikely I'd never get there. (I chose to listen to my therapist and stop being friends with this person).

A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns continued to do things that made me uncomfortable when I asked them to stop. Never said in as many words "you're not allowed to hang out with your friends" but conveniently had an emergency every time I had plans, and accused me of being uncaring if I needed my own space. They knew I had difficulty asking for help, but still got angry with me when I asked because I didn't ask "soon enough".

A queer person who used my correct name and pronouns told me they would look after me and they didnt. .

A queer person threatened to misgender me MORE when I corrected them.

I'm just saying, that if you choose to yeet everyone who doesn't get your name and pronouns right... that doesn't necessarily make you safe. We live in a very binary world. As much as we want that to change, it won't if we ignore or shout at the bits we don't like. (Believe me, I've tried).

#queer community #queer #lgbtqia #alphabet mafia #transgender #nonbinary #enby pride #enby stuff #enby positivity #enby #pronouns #genderfluid #gender #gender trouble #gender talk #friendship #healthy relationships #unlikely allies #respect #love #rainbow #neopronouns #support #healing #healing from trauma #trust #allies #lgbtq positivity #lgbtpeople #nonbinary problems

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Funny you mention my boss… he’s a slight older guy, always in the gym. He’s such a big, powerful, assertive guy. Fucking gorgeous.

But he’s always got some woman on his arm. Never the same one for long… I’ve always fantasied about him settling down and choosing me to be on his arm permanently. The boss at home, not just at the office. Can you make that happen for me?

You really hit the jackpot with this boss! The man is everything you described and more, with a personality as big and as dominant as his body. Sure, he's addicted to women, and yeah, he thinks you're a wimp, but I think I can change his mind...

"Conference room. Now!" the sound of his commanding voice rising over the murmur of the office is a fairly routine occurrence. Still, the mouths of your coworkers snap shut while their eyes fall instinctively to the floor. Your eyes stay locked on him, though, and your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch in awe.

"Ben!" his voice calls from deep in his chest, "You have something to report?"

You stare at his piercing smile, managing to stammer a reply, "Uh no, sir," in as calm of a voice as you can muster.

The boss suddenly cracks the deafening silence with gutteral laughter. Your colleagues around you take this as a signal to join in, but you brave a nervous smile. Once again, you're the butt of your boss's joke. He always pounces at the chance to make fun of you.

The man brushes off his amusement and gets started with his weekly progress meeting, barking out productivity rates like they're the only things that matter. The guys sitting around you eagerly take notes, but you take the time to study the great man standing before you. You want his attention so bad!

"Ben, are you paying attention?" the boss asks.

"Yeah, boss..." you reply shakily, and it's true! You heard every word he was saying, but you still can't muster up a response before he is fed up waiting.

"If you aren't listening then get out!" he commands, "Grab me some coffee, if you can handle that. I need a new receptionist, Ben, and if you're not careful, it'll be you!"

The assembly of guys snicker under their breaths, and you feel eyes staring at your back as you step out. You can't help but wonder why the boss is so hard on you, when he goes so easy on that stupid woman. It's bad enough that he's promoted her twice in the last month, but does he really need to make out with her in front of everyone too?

Rebecca is the latest woman your boss has enjoyed. Like all the other girls he's been with, she is confident, clever, and absolutely stunning. However, unlike all the other girls, Rebecca is his employee.

Needless to say, she's a bitch, but your boss doesn't care. He seems to enjoy Rebecca's ruthless climb to the top. At least he does for now. You know he'll get bored with her sooner or later and move on to someone else.

Maybe I can speed up the process...maybe I can manipulate it to end in your favor...

I enter his mind in the middle of the presentation, causing him to pause his speech unceremoniously. His employees wait patiently for him to resume, but his head is battling to reject my influence. Even a great man like him fails.

His brain falls under my control, and I can feel his competitive and strategic areas working overdrive to run this business. However, there are two small sections that seem very different. These areas are much more calm, involving two key things to his satisfaction: one is his primal desire for women and the other is his pleasure for bullying you.

Why should you have to be the one he likes to humiliate? Why can't he want to rip off your clothes instead of Rebecca's? Why should his mind have to work this way?

Oh wait, it doesn't have to!

It takes me seconds to swap the two concepts. In an instant, his urge to bully is directed towards women, and an insatiable lust is pointed at you and only you.

"Ben!" he calls, his words still have the same bite they always do, making you spill some coffee as you flinch.

You can't help but freeze as the man marches across the office. His employees scatter out of his way, fearing they'll be pushed if they don't, but they all look confused as to what the boss is actually going to do when he gets to you.

"Babe?" Rebecca snaps as he brushes past her.

A part of your boss's mind yells defiantly, insisting on his heterosexual orientation, but I swiftly put out that spark of a thought.

"We're done," he tells her flatly, "And you're fired. You lied on your resume."

"I told you that in private!" she screeches.

The man winces, not wanting to make this harder than he has to, but I correct his thoughts once again. He needs to remember to humiliate her like he used to do to you.

"And I'm telling you to go. I should've never let a woman try to do a man's job." His eyes find you as he finishes his statement.

Rebecca scoffs and storms off as he marches right up to you. The boss doesn't wait for permission to grab your waist. His swollen arms pull you into his chest, and his mouth is already exploring your own. You can feel his hand wandering down your backside. For a moment, you regain enough composure to worry about how this looks to the office. Your shoulders tense up as you realize all of your coworkers are watching the boss enjoy feeling you up like he did all those other girls.

Don't worry. I reach into his mind once more, reminding him to be hyper aware of your comfort levels at all times. Every husband should have that quality, don't you think?

"Let's get out of here," you hear him say, as he pulls his tongue from your mouth, "I can tell your getting a bit tense."

"Ok..." you breath in response.

The boss grips your hand roughly and walks you out of the office. Everyone else is either staring at the ground in fear or staring at you in awe. Either way, you don't know how to feel, but you can't help but enjoy the look on Rebecca's face as her former boyfriend escorts you down his private elevator.

The whole way home, all he thinks about is what he wants to do to you. He'll treat you rough, just like he used to do with all his girlfriends, but I also stuffed a few of your fantasies in that mind of his. He's about to do exactly what you like without even realizing it.

"Come here," he growls as you arrive in his bedroom.

"This place is huge," you gasp at the sight of his giant house.

"Get over here Ben!" he demands, growing more impatient.

You approach, stunned by the rock hard abs suddenly peaking out from beneath his suit. His expression is intense, like he's about to fire you, but you're not going anywhere. He may have been a straight executive this morning, but now he's gay as hell. Well, he's into you as hell. Nothing else will turn him on ever again.

Enjoy the company of your boss! A guy as assertive and successful as him is a definite keeper. I'm already planting the idea of marriage in his mind...

#gay mind control

[hotvintagepoll]

Welcome to the HOT AND VINTAGE MOVIE STARS tournament! We are now finished with the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament; The Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament is ongoing. Submissions for hot vintage women are now closed, but we are accepting propaganda for those already in the bracket.

Round 1 of the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament began with 540 hot women in prelims. Round 1 starts Saturday, March 2nd, with posts going up over several days. All polls—including ongoing polls, previous rounds, old tournaments, the various shadow brackets, and fun mini polls—can be found in the #hotvintagepoll tag. Every poll in the Hot & Vintage Women Tournament will be tagged with the hot woman in it if you need to search for a hot woman in particular.

FAQs:

“Where is [my favorite hot woman]?” It depends. Are all the Round 1 polls up yet? Have you checked all the polls in the tag? Have you done a tag search for her? If you still haven’t found her, either nobody submitted her or she did not fit the criteria of being a movie woman from 1910-1970.

“Can I still submit hot women?” No, the submission window has closed. Please do not send in women you wish had made it into the bracket. I can’t do anything with those asks and they just make me sad.

“I have additional propaganda for the hot women!” Great! Send me an ask or reblog the poll and add your propaganda to it. If you see a separate post that relates to your hot woman, like a fancam or a gifset, you can tag me in it. I don’t boost all the propaganda I see or receive, but I try to boost the best of the best.

If you’re submitting propaganda for your hot lady, I don’t accept propaganda that’s from beyond the end of this tournament’s era (ie don’t send me pics of them from before 1910 or after 1970). I also don’t accept propaganda of TV appearances unless it’s clearly a cameo where they’re playing themselves. If you have a TON of photos to submit, please send a few asks instead of one long one. I watch every video I receive so I can add trigger warnings, so please don't send long videos—I don't have time to review them.

I don’t post or boost negative propaganda about any hot woman. If you really hate that a certain hot woman is winning, send me positive propaganda for their hot opponent. If you think a hot woman shouldn’t even be included in the tournaments because of scummy things she did in her lifetime, please read my take on it here.

If I see repetitive, trolling, and/or bigoted remarks in the comments, I may block you from this bracket. If you want to point out a hot woman’s flaws or misdemeanors, that’s fine, but if I see consistent bad-faith trolling, you will be blocked.

The views expressed in the propaganda are not my own. I don’t submit my own propaganda, and I don’t change what’s submitted beyond fixing spelling mistakes. If you hate a poll bio or a pic, let me know and send me something I can use instead. Thoughtless bitching will get blocked.

"Where are the hot men?" Most of them are in the shadow realm! Toshiro Mifune was crowned the winner of the Hot & Vintage Men Tournament, and the rest were banished where the sun never shines. You can find all the round 1 matchups here (thank you @markwatnae!), or you can search the archive by tag to find out more about what happened to all the different hot men.

"Why didn't my propaganda make it into the poll post?" Either I couldn't open the link, or there was so much submitted I could only pick a few. Because this tournament is so much bigger than the Hot & Vintage Men one, I'm limiting propaganda to 5 pics per hot lady for Round 1. I know, a bummer! I have to do it this way to keep myself sane. If you have a photo you really want the world to see, follow the propaganda guidelines above.

“My FAQ isn’t on here :(” send me an ask! I love hearing from you guys—just please check these basics first.

Thank you for being here! Enjoy the tournament.

#ladies 1 #new masterpost! #this has some new guidelines so please give it a skim #housekeeping

[w2sology]

Harry Lewis period comfort!!

by the book, harry lewis.

summary: how harry helps you through the unbearable butden to women that is periods.

warnings: shouldn't really be a warning but periods, language, moody reader, that's all!

the first time it happened, harry was completely puzzled

as in when he got the please buy me pads from the shops :( text, he had zero idea on what to do

frantically calling his mum for help bc he felt like asking his sister was a bit too odd

but his mum came to his rescue as she always did

told him what he should do and what to avoid doing

that day harry learnt a lot about you

like what foods made you mad and what foods made the pain more bearable for you

and ever since, he makes sure that he's stocked up on pads whenever you're staying over at his

as you grew older and your body started to mature, you started to change as well

you went from craving ice cream and stuff to craving iced coffee and fruit

but harry didn't mind, he'd go to the shops at 2am just for you because he knew that there was a whole day's worth of cuddles waiting ahead for him

the cuddles were the absolute best

as in we're talking legs tangled together, sheets all messy around you two, his arms on your stomach to help ease the pain or help hold the hot water bottle, and your head resting on his chest as you watch whatever's on the telly

you would hate how harry cancelled plans just to stay and look after you, even though he claimed that he was "surveying what it's like to be a homebody"

kissed and kisses and kisses

anything can be healed with a kiss, or at least that's what harry believes. so he gives you a pass for unlimited kisses.

unfortunately he's also the type to make you laugh until you start cramping, which leads to you getting pissed off at him

"harry— fucking stop, my stomach!"

"no one told you to laugh that hard!"

"get off me, bitch"

him taking photos of you sprawled out which he shows you later, ignoring how you cringe and shrink at yourself knocked out in pain

if there was ever to be an accident on the bedsheets, harry would be an abode sweetheart

waking you up gently and telling you that he ran a bath for you, and whilst you're in the bath he changes the sheets, gets you some fresh clothes and makes sure you have all the things you need for the next week

everyone expects him to be the least experienced when it comes to this stuff but after helping you out through these painful days every month, he seems to have a good understanding of it

"so is it like... can you feel it right now?"

"harry, i won't feel it unless i'm in an uncomfortable position or if i sneeze or something."

"... can you sneeze then?"

defo the type to jokingly ask if you want to have sex, only to stop the joke immediately after seeing your dead straight face.

overall, he's a human heater, a great blanket, and a good cuddle buddy all in one

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen #sidemen x reader #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw imagines #harry lewis #harry lewis x reader

[orkbutch]

So, I'm not really in the weeds of Transgender Discourse on the internet (I have a life and also care about my mental health) but I've seen something discussed here about trans masculinity and I wanna talk about it.

I'm very masculine. I'm butch, I'm trans masc, I've always wanted to be masculine and I feel most comfortable when I'm presenting as such. Without much effort or any intention on my part I am read as a cis man day to day. Because I don't present more fem, in queer spaces I am read and recieved as a man, maybe trans, probably into other men. People do not even consider if I'm a butch lesbian unless there's Significant context indicating it. Because of this I'm viewed through 'Man Lens'; It feels a different if I say 'bitch', if I talk about my attraction to women. I don't get smiled at, people put physical distance between me and them as much as possible.

This is familiar for a lot of trans masculine people and trans men that aren't androgynous/fem leaning in their style, and it is an upsetting change to happen. It makes us feel judged or misunderstood to suddenly be causing this wariness in others; it feels prejudiced. I've seen people putting words to this like transmisandry. This is something they want to lessen in their communities, so they don't have to experience this anymore.

Now, here's my opinion part: That's not going to happen. You cannot tackle the "problem" of people responding to your masculinity with wariness. They aren't controlling the wariness, they can't. More importantly, their wariness toward masculinity and what registers in their brain as "man-like" is well founded. It's based in lifetimes of experiences and trauma that has told them men can be very unsafe to be around, and that is true. Most men are cis, and cis men are the most threatening thing in this world to non-cis men. They are usually* socially privileged above others, more likely to inflict violence, more likely to abuse and murder others, are typically physically more powerful than others. Everyone thats not a cis man DEEPLY internalises a very rational wariness of men, and masculine presentation as an extension. Especially men that are strangers. (*This is of course different when we consider intersections of race, colonialism, classism, ect. But globally this generalisation is still pretty accurate.)

Honestly, I don't think this wariness towards masculine presentation is something thats useful or realistic to challenge. Like many internalised processes it's probably a good idea to examine it and consider its usefulness, but I think it'd be easy to conclude that it is a useful wariness for people to have. Women have lots of reasons to be wary around men, including the unique threats of transmisogyny. Queer and gender deviant men have lots of reasons to be wary around men. This is The Reality of patriarchy.

Personally, the place I've come to with how women and queer people react to my masculinity (which is not entirely negative btw, the wariness is just one aspect) is that... I understand their wariness. I have it too, toward those my brain assumes are cis men. I cannot control how they feel or what they think about me. I can only be respectful to others and to myself and live my life. I flag my butchness where I can, I make my gender clear to those it matters to, and the rest I accept as largely beyond my influence. All of us have to do this in some places in our lives.

Even though my masculinity makes other queers wary, I have lots of friends! I've had no real trouble dating or finding intimacy. Initial wariness is just that. Once you understand each other, break the barrier, its usually settled. For anyone who finds my masculinity so offputting that we can't break the barrier, I'm glad neither of us put each other through that discomfort. I understand where a fear like that comes from. I will still hold community with them because that's what solidarity entails.

Anyway thats my ramble about masculinity in queer community, good bye until another. who knows how long

#back on the tumblr diary #personal #edited the section about women having reasons to fear men and transmisogyny; poorly phrased lol.

[flowerandblood]

Rip my heart, heal my soul Inside Alphabet

[ Jack the Ripper • modern!Aemond x female ]

Inside Alphabet for Aemond from my series Rip my heart, heal my soul after he met his girl, made for my one year celebration. Very dark content below.

A = Anger (do they get mad and how they react to it)

Before he met his sweet girl, rage, a sense of injustice and aggression accompanied him all the time. In fact, he took it out on his victims, feeling momentary peace, satisfaction and fatigue only when he killed them. However, the euphoric stage was too short-lived for his liking, so he had to quickly find new objects of interest to repeat the whole process.

When a woman was aggressive or rude to him, she could count on him to end her life even if she was not to his taste and he originally had no plan to do anything to her.

After he met her, his frustration and aggression subsided to practically zero. He replaced the adrenaline and endorphin that was secreted in his brain when he was killing with her constant closeness, both physical and spiritual. If he needed to get off, rough, violent sex would suffice, but the kind that wouldn't cause her any real harm. He would never want to hurt her.

B = Behavior (tics, reflexes, things specific to them)

His hands often tremble, usually from excitement or nerves, so he plays with, for example, a glass in his hand, a cloth slung over his shoulder, a cigarette, his jacket, anything to keep his fingers busy. He even feels a tickle in his fingertips when he thinks about killing. Apart from that, he talks to himself a lot under his breath when he thinks about something intensely.

C = Crying (whether they cry & do what when someone else cries)

He actually cries a lot, especially when he lets his consciousness take over for a while and he realises again what he has done to all these women. This knowledge crushes him and he becomes hysterical until she calms him down with her closeness, tenderness and warm words, even though he knows that he does not deserve to be comforted.

D = Despair (who they seek help from first)

When he panics, he calls her first before he does something stupid. He tries not to make any rash decisions before he talks to her. Often her voice alone and her soothing words calm him down and make him realise that the situation is not as bad as he feared.

E = Enemy (who they hate or argue with most often)

He hated women who reminded him of the girls who teased and mocked him in high school. There were several, but the worst was one of them, a dark-haired, petite, sweet girl who only pretended to be nice.

She flirted with a lot of boys, cheating on them, and made fun of him, saying that if he was desperate, she could take his virginity because he might never get the chance to make love to a woman with that appearance.

These words left a mark on him, completely killing his already low self-esteem. He began to exercise, changed his style of dress and conversation, and when he returned to school after the summer holidays, he found that she didn't recognise him until she saw his scar up close.

He felt a sense of power over her and satisfaction at the thought that she was now the one who followed him around and begged for his attention, the more he was secretive and withdrawn, the more he teased her, the more she was in love with him.

She was very insistent that they go to bed together, and when they finally did, she was not happy with how inexperienced he was. Her remarks and the look on her face full of disappointment enraged him so much that he strangled her with the string she used to tie her dress around her waist.

When she stopped moving he was terrified and tried to wake her up, however, in addition to the fear he also felt an immense satisfaction that this dumb bitch was no longer laughing.

She had mocked him and was now lying there with a blank stare, a fucking slut who deserved everything that had happened to her.

He decided afterwards that he wished he'd caused her more pain before he killed her, that he had said all those things to her that had been pressing to his lips.

His girlfriend reminded him a lot of her in some ways, so he had originally considered her the perfect target for his next victim, believing that she was simply faking it.

He tried to catch her in a lie, gossip or words she would normally be ashamed of if she didn't trust him, but his plan backfired a tad because he fell in love with her instead.

F = Friends (do they have and who they consider friends)

She is his only real friend.

G = Gifts (whether they like gifts and give them themselves)

He loves to make his sweet girl little presents, he knows what kind of buns she likes to eat so he always buys her fresh ones after work so she can eat them for dinner and in the morning before class, he buys her books, notebooks and anything he thinks she will find useful and enjoy, always excitedly waiting for her reaction.

When he gets gifts from her, when she turns out to have remembered his birthday or anniversary, he feels happy, ashamed and remorseful at the same time, thinking that after all he has done he does not deserve any presents, much less from her.

H = Hobby (what they do for pleasure in their free time)

Reading.

I = Idol (their role model)

In fact, she is his role model. Every day he watches her and learns from her how to deal with everyday problems and adversities in a calm and composed manner, at the same time filled with hope and reason. She is the one he counsels when he doesn't know how to solve his problem, not wanting to use violence any more, and he usually gets an answer from her that satisfies him and, in his mind, makes sense.

J = Jokes (how they react to jokes and if they laugh)

No joking. He doesn't even know how to do it. He laughs sometimes when she does something silly.

K = Kids (do they want to have them)

Some part of him would like to have a family, but he would be afraid that his children would be like him. He would also be afraid that he would then have to share his beloved, that a child would take her away from him to some extent. He knows that he is perhaps too possessive for that and would rather not risk it.

However, he would never force her to terminate the pregnancy if she decided that she wanted to keep the child. He would then try to deal with it somehow, but it would be very difficult for him because of what would be going on in his head.

L = Love (anything to do with falling in love)

Before he met her, he did not believe in love or that he was capable of it. He believed that he could not be loved and that women who bestow affection on him simply want to go to bed with him and fall in love with someone they have made up themselves, in some imagined version of him, rather than the monster he really was.

When he met her, however, it became apparent that something was beginning to happen inside him. He felt warmth at the sight of her as she crossed the door of the café, the rapid beating of his heart and the trembling of his hands as he handed her an order and exchanged a few words with her, the things he had learned about her and the articles she had written made some part of him want to get to know her instead of trying to drag her to bed, and once that happened he was unable to hurt her.

M = Manners (how they behave in formal situations)

He is cold and withdrawn. He hates talking to strangers and dies when he has to call the doctor or get anything done at the office. He begs her to do it for him, but she refuses, saying that he has to deal with such things on his own. He literally dies then, but he tries, for her. To make her proud of him.

N = Nightmare (their worst nightmare)

He often dreams that he wakes up next to her and she is lying beside him with empty eye sockets, covered in blood, dead. He doesn't remember anything, he can't believe that he did it, but he also sees traces of blood on his hands. He then wakes up, for real this time, and grabs her, begging her to say something, and she looks at him terrified, snapped out of a deep sleep, asking him if he's been having nightmares again.

Usually then he starts crying in relief, unable to even answer her question, sobbing hugged to her chest, and she embraces him and strokes his hair, whispering that everything is okay.

He dies of fear when she goes off somewhere alone and doesn't respond to his messages for too long. He's ready to quit mid-shift, get straight into the car and drive to wherever she is, just to make sure she's okay. He drives her crazy with his overprotectiveness.

He would be devastated if she broke up with him. He would be afraid he would do something to her in an act of desperation or go back to murdering again.

O = Origin (their childhood)

He grew up in a family where money was always in short supply. His father died when he was very young and his mother worked several shifts to support him and his siblings. When the terrible accident happened to him and he lost his eye, his mother could not afford the expensive treatment, so his scar did not heal as well as it could have.

For a long time he wore the cheapest glass eye, which looked awful and made other children afraid of him. It wasn't until he was in high school that he managed to get a refund from the country for a better one, one that is almost no different from a normal one.

P = Proximity (what they are like when they are intimate)

Before her, he associated proximity only with animalistic closeness and aggression, so he did not see it as anything pleasant or desirable.

Only when he met his girlfriend did he desire this closeness in a different way, wanting simply to touch her, feel her and experience fulfilment with her. It turned out that her touch, full of respect, warmth and care even calmed him down, and sex with her became his favourite way to relax.

Q = Quiz (whether they like to play and how)

He enjoys playing chess or other logic games.

R = Routine (do they have a daily routine and what is it)

He always sets himself a routine for the day, which he sticks to and which his girlfriend knows he hates when someone disorganises it for him. They have agreed that they will always set all changes in advance and try not to surprise each other with anything unless something happens that neither of them had control over.

He didn't resent her when she became unwell and he had to take her to the doctor even though he should have been at work, it is obvious that her and his wellbeing are of utmost importance to him.

S = Safety (whether and where they feel safe)

He only feels safe when he sleeps cuddled up against her breasts in their bed, making sure he has locked the door on both locks beforehand.

T = Touch (who they allow to touch and how)

Only she can touch him. He loves her hands, the way she touches his bare skin with them, his chest, his cheeks, his shoulders, when she kisses him, or when she comes close and embraces him from behind at the waist.

In the case of any other person, he tenses up all over and pulls away, furious, thinking that this is a right meant only for the woman he loves. When any strange woman touches him he bursts into a rage, he then snorts for air and counts to thirty, waiting for the wave of anger to pass away.

U = Unforgivable (things they would not forgive)

Lying.

He would never forgive her if she lied to him, even if it was some small thing. He would rather she say she doesn't know something or isn't sure than say something that would later turn out not to be true. He often checks what she says with the facts and is relieved every time her words are confirmed. He trusts her, but at the same time he is still afraid that she will start hiding something from him.

Betrayal.

I don't even have to write what he would do then. He would kill her first and then himself.

V = Vengeance (whether they are vengeful and how)

He is very vindictive and only her pleas and requests make him let strangers off the hook for certain things. He is very easily annoyed or offended and often winning his forgiveness is impossible.

W = Warderobe (what they wear, what style they have)

He dresses simply but elegantly. He loves fitted, dark jumpers and turtlenecks worn with black trousers.

Y = Yearning (whether they yearn and how they express it)

He dies of longing when she goes out somewhere alone with her friends. He lets her do it because he knows she needs it, but he wants to cry then. He is emotionally unstable and sees the very worst scenarios in his mind − above all that something will happen to her.

He constantly craves her, when she is tired several days in a row he starts to worry that she doesn't love him anymore, that he has done something wrong. Usually when she comes back to strength she shows him how wrong he was and then he feels that wonderful, overpowering relief again, which passes every time he has to separate from her again.

His dream would be to die lying in bed with her, cuddled up against her naked body, with his manhood deep inside her, his nose filled with her scent, listening to her calm breathing.

Z = Zone (their comfort zone)

He feels comfort when he is with her in their flat. This is where he's calm and composed and does not feel any frustration or anger.

When he goes outside and has contact with strangers he feels threatened, even more so when she is next to him and he has to worry about her too.

He then holds her hand in his to make sure he doesn't lose her somewhere among the crowds, watching the people around them like a guard, protecting her in his mind from other people like him.

#aemond headcanon #aemond headcanons #dark aemond headcanons #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #aemond smut #aemond angst #modern aemond #modern aemond smut #modern aemond angst #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fic #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x female #aemond fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #hotd fanfic

[prettyboykatsuki]

BEGGING you to speak on your dark content mai thoughts.....on my hands and knees fang

the only one for me | z. mai

✮ cw ; DARK CONTENT, afab + fem!reader, manipulation / BULLYING, dubcon (so much of it), it gets weird and sexual (of course.), alternate universe / not canon complaint, mai is INCREDIBLY possessive over reader sdkjs, humiliation, a lot of nobara conflict, mai calls nobara a bitch once, use of honorifics (senpai + san), 18+

✮ wc ; 2.3k (??)

✮ a/n ; i don't know....dont ask me fdjkkjsd. this is very like. i say this a lot but this is so much more bullying heavy than my other stuff and mai is a lot more selfish than my other characters lol.

the smut isn't super graphic! this is mostly psychological tomfoolery. reader is also peak pathetic here SDKJSJK

It's not an accident.

And it didn't happen overnight, though Mai is certainly wants to make you feel like that. It happened, or it started mostly because Mai notices the way interact with Nobara. And there's always competition there - the same current of tension that makes the two of them hate each other while never leaving the other alone.

It's not accident, the first time Mai decides to bother you. It's not an accident when she ruins your social life, not an accident when she clings to your side and makes you feel nauseous with how she refuses to leave you alone.

The world of Jujutsu Sorcery is small and archaic. Even with the death of the Zenin clan - and the slow, steady departure of clan politics, not much has changed. There are plenty of women in sorcery, and they're all interconnected like a web. A solidarity there that exists because it has too.

It's hard to survive without such a thing, and it's hard to work yourself into a network with such deep roots.

You stick out like a sore thumb among them.

A late bloomer, you began as a sorcerer after high school and joined Jujutsu Higher at the technical college level at 20. You're bright, she hears from the grapevine. You start working in the field only attending one mission, and Gojo Satoru declares you as a prodigy before the day is over.

She sees you, for the first time when she's forced to attend an even at the Tokyo school for all sorcerers. You're with Nobara. Unlike what she hears about, you don't have much of a presence.

The first time Mai catches you and Nobara alone - she finds herself surprised. Nobara's bullying is cruel but crude. Insulting but not particularly clever. The first time Mai catches the two of you alone, it's in alley with you on your knees - your face under Nobara's skirt as she demeans you with a heel between your legs.

Mai is mostly surprised. She didn't think Nobara had it in her, too much of a goody two-shoes.

But more than that, more than anything - she's interested in the look on your face when you pull away. You're quite the cry-baby, and you don't push Nobara even when Mai knows you're stronger than her by a lot. One of the greatest sorcerers to pop up in the last few years, and there you'd been.

Crying, weeping, pleading - in ruins about so many things.

How cute.

It's hard for things to catch Mai's interest. She thinks it's the little sister in her. She wants plenty but not enough to keep them. She finds people cute but never enough to date them.

But there was something about you - something about how timid and weak you acted when she knew you were strong, that made Mai curious. At first, it was just to piss Nobara off. Approaching you was a silly game she played her hand in to pass the time.

She liked seeing the crease in Nobara's features when Mai got your attention. She liked the way you looked uncomfortable when she was friendly, knowing her terrible intentions but still being polite. She liked that you used formal speech with all the higher-ups, and that you got along well with the boys of your age group but not so much the girls.

Mai likes, especially, that you are so socially outcast. You never seem to know how to be comfortable in conversations with all the girls. You try too hard, talk too rough but you can't raise your voice.

And her head is always replaying that same image of you on your knees, face soaked with cum and tears and so desperately hanging on. It plagues her a little, to watch you.

It's not an accident, the first time Mai asks to partner with you on a mission. The higher-ups owe her a lot and something this simple takes no effort on her part at all.

It's not an accident you take on a dangerous mission, it's not an accident when you get cornered, and it's certainly not an accident as Mai watches you take down a horde of curses all by yourself. You're a prodigy when you sweat. You're strong.

But you fold under the slightest pressure.

__

It's easy enough to isolate you.

You're too clever to fall for manipulation, and Mai doesn't enjoy lying to her peers. Cutting the threads that tie you to other things, things that aren't her - is enough to make it happen. She calls the shots to get you relocated, and slowly takes your social life apart when you enter. She tells Momo that you don't seem to like girls like her, tells Miwa something about the fact that you're cruel from what she's seen. They believe because they know Mai and don't know you.

The other women hear something along those same lines. It's all too easy.

She watches from a far after that. The seeds are spread, and you fumble trying to make friends. Mai waits until you're lonely. No one signs up with you for missions, no one seems to say hello in the halls.

Mai waits patiently. She catches you on a good day, when you're alone.

("I thought Nobara didn't like cigarettes," Mai leans next to you on the wall, supressing a smile at the way you startle. You nearly drop what you're smoking but it never ends up falling to the floor "She kept whining about it like a kid when her ex used to smoke."

"Mai-san," Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying. She checks to see if your eyes are red, but it's too hard to tell "What are you doing up here?"

"I can't be friends with you? How harsh, senpai."

You look uncomfortable the familiarity. She knew you would. She's been watching you all this time.

"You shouldn't be picky," Mai tsks, sitting herself too close to you. She takes your cigarette and puts her lips on the end, lipgloss sticking to the paper. Your eyes grow wide, expression a little shocked. Is it the indirect kiss? How innocent of you "It's not like there's anyone else who wants to be around you, is there?"

You don't protest her words. Her timid upper classmen. If you had more of a spine, you would surely say that doesn't mean you want her around either.

You don't though. You just sigh, and pull the cigarette from her lips and put it out.

"Don't pick up bad habits."

Mai wants to tell you it's already much too late.)

Mai learns you have several interesting things about you. You're a crybaby, but you're strong. You're easy to bully, but you like to be helpful.

You're too friendly. You're always especially nice to girls and it seems you have no issue winning them over even on accident. Mai doesn't like that about you. It bothers her when you stray too far from her sight. When you have to return to Tokyo for work and she can only imagine what nonsense Nobara is putting through your thick skull.

She learns the easiest way to get you to listen is by using her feelings. No matter how much Mai troubles you or inconveniences you, you can never leave her to the snakes. No matter how much Mai pushes you against your boundaries, you'll never push her away.

You're too moral and too upright. Too good and too naive. And there is something about those things inside of you that make it hard for Mai to leave you alone.

She can't help but unload all of the cruelty that wells up inside her when she looks at the face you make when you're defeated. That pleading look you get when Mai pushes just a little too far - to helpless to your own sense of responsibility to ever scold her properly.

You make such a perfect target, it makes so hard for Mai to stay away. She always wants you next to her. Wants to tangle you inside of a web so intricate you never stop feeling like you'll lose balance. She wants to leave you in that sort of ruin, where the feeling of suspense drives you into madness and you can't do anything but lean.

It's a bad habit she's picked up. Putting you in uncomfortable, frustrating situations. Coercing you into touching her, into letting her feel you up. Her reasons are always the same.

If it's not you, then maybe I'll go and do it to someone else. Wouldn't that be bad, senpai?

__

"Mai-san," Your voice is cute when it's like this. It's in the middle of a dangerous situation and there's a curse lurking near by - but part of the fun is the danger. Mai sits between your legs with a grip, a hand on your cheek. "We shouldn't do this here. Th-theres curses. Y-you'll get hurt."

She laughs - she can hear the callous in it. Truthfully she's pissed. Whatever you get up too when Nobara is around you is more than enough to sour her mood. You come back to Kyoto with all of your clothes smelling of that sickly perfume - so it's only fair she makes you uncomfortable.

It's only fair that she keeps you here, trapped with her against the wall. That she suffocates and overwhelms your senses with her. Nobara is still too soft on you. But Mai owns you. She'd put a dog collar on you if it helped you understand, she worries you'll always be too thick.

"You were hanging around with that bitch weren't you," She tsks. You widen your eyes than look away, have the nerve to get flushed. The anger she feels is so visceral it nearly burns her alive "You look real happy about it too,"

"You shouldn't talk about Nobara-san like that," You gasp when Mai pushes her knee between your legs. Your head falls forward, and your heart is pumping. "She's a nice girl."

Haah.

She wraps her hand around your hair, tugging enough that you're forced to look up at her.

"You're saying that even after she bullied you like some kind of psycho. Do you have a fetish for it or something?"

You open your eyes and blink up at Mai.

"She's not like that," You gasp as Mai digs her knee further into your pelvis "I-it's harmless. She doesn't mean anything by it."

Her anger hits a high.

"So what, you wanna go play housewife with her? Do you like that annoying—you'll take anything won't you. So pathetic all by yourself that any attention will do."

"Mai,"

"It can't be anyone else but you. And I have to vent my anger somewhere, so get it through your thick fucking skull, alright? Nothing else will work."

You look at her like you've realized something, but you don't raise your voice to speak. Mai doesn't bother herself with what you could be thinking. It doesn't matter to her what it is anyway.

She busies herself instead with doing what she knows will soothe her mood. Unzipping the top of your jeans and undoing the button as a curse creaks behind you. You widen your eyes. Mai puts a hand over your mouth, electricity buzzing through each of her nerves.

"Quiet, senpai," She whispers to you softly as she pushes her hand into your jeans, fingers running over your slit. You're so predictably, soaking wet from just a little bullying. You're so easy to target it's no wonder. She pulls back just slightly to peer at the expression you have on your face. "It'll hear you."

Once those words hit you, you make that face that Mai adores so much. Tears well up and spill down your face in waves, warm breath tickling the palm of her hand as her fingers tease your clit. It doesn't take anything to make you cum, you're easy in all the ways it matters. Mai can always use that so she doesn't mind.

She knows all the ways to break you down slowly, knows how slow to go until your sniffles turn to soft sobs. Her beloved upperclassmen, pathetic and too forgiving. If you happen to leave her sight, she's sure something worse will happen to you.

Another girl will take advantage of you helplessly and that wouldn't be fair. She's the only one allowed to do it. She's the only one who will ever understand you so fully. Nobara can't do it like she can.

Only Mai is allowed to break you. She knows all the best ways to put you back together.

"You're so wet. Such a bad girl. How could you being doing this in the middle of a fight. Tsk, tsk," Mai reprimands you with delight, watching the way your eyes roll back as she toys with you. Your clit throbs under her touch - hot and sticky and desperate. "You better hurry up and cum so you can go fight. How else will you protect me, huh?"

"Mai-san," You gasp as she moves her hand from your mouth, body leaned against the wall - sweat dripping down your forehead "Mai-san, please."

"Say it," Mai taunts, grabbing your chin "That I'm the only one for you. Repeat it so you understand."

You give her a look but do as she says. So obedient she wants to praise you.

"You're the only one for me, Mai-san,"

You look at her when you say it. Even though she knows you don't mean it, she feels her heart thump and swallows the feeling before grinning.

"My dear senpai,"She hums, leaning into to tug your ear lobe between her teeth "Cum, okay? Cum as much as you want."

Mai tucks your head against her chest as you cum, pulsing around her fingers.

Yes, it was never an accident to begin with. And it's Mai's responsibility to keep wrapped up with her right where you're supposed to be.

#return to sender #mai zenin x reader #mai x reader #bullying cw #writing tag #dark content cw #yandere cw #dubcon cw #jjk x reader #jjk smut