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forsakenmis · 3 years

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After the snap

Summary: Wanda was snapped away. You, on the other hand, remained and had moved on. You moved out of the country, started a new job, and had even gone on a few dates. Then everyone came back and suddenly a familiar witch was knocking on your workplace door.

Pairings: Top!Wanda x Reader

Warnings: dark!wanda, oral (r receiving), strap, public sex, posessive wanda, mummy kink

You’d long put away the shield (so to speak) and were at a point that going back to everyone just seemed so jarring. Maybe you didn’t want to believe it wasn’t true. After five years of grieving, of building a new life, and suddenly everyone’s just….back.

Wanda was back.

You knew it was wrong to have not contacted her. For her, it must seem like yesterday that you were whispering your plans about eloping, but that was five years ago. You moved on. Found someone else. She was nice, sweet, normal. She worked as a custom officer but she could spend hours and hours talking about all these topics that fascinated you.

She also was very predictable and normal.

Admittedly, your relationship hadn’t quite been defined. You suspected she was seeing other people, keeping her options open, and you weren’t sure how long you two were going to last but you were enjoying the time that you had together.

On top of that, you had a job at a bookstore that paid your rent. Sure, it wasn’t as flashy as it was back then but you liked being surrounded by all the books, some new and some falling apart. You spent a lot of pride restoring the latter in the back. You never had much of a chance to read before everything happened, your life was mostly spent trying to make sure everyone didn’t die.

Your abilities were healing based and that was more useful than you had initially thought when you first met them all. In fact, you thought you were awfully inadequate compared to people like Steve Rogers, Thor and Wanda Maximoff. But your time was kept filled to the brim.

Your only time to relax was your time with Wanda.

It had started off innocent enough. She used to stay with you after you finished up in the medic bay. She’d have dinner with you. Admittedly, you were pretty sure she didn’t have many other friends in the complex. Then it grew until she was fucking you every chance she could get. How else would either of you relax?

But that was a long time ago. You were done with that life. You weren’t the same person anymore. You ran and started a new life and not even the idea of Wanda could make you go back and maybe she was just that–an idea.

You were confident none of them would find you. Natasha couldn’t. You knew she had been trying to track you down like she had for Clint but no one came knocking on your door. So if they couldn’t, you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to find you either.

You’d just closed shop, the sunset streaming through the shutters covering the windows, and were taking stock. It had been a quiet day, but it was always quiet on a Tuesday so you had easily reached the predicted quota. The one downside was your boss, but he was only around once a week.

He was the kid of some millionaire who was trying to be hip and all that. So he opened some urban bookstore but he was too busy partying to actually stay on top of the business. Which is fine-you liked that arrangement. You’ll keep the shop running and he’ll never be up in your business. It worked without a bump in the road.

You were nearly done for the day, all you had to do after was–

The bell attached to the door trinkled. Someone had walked in. It was nearly half past, well past closing, so surely your boss would understand if you told whoever it is to leave. You were behind the shelves, you couldn’t see who had walked in. They weren’t making a lot of noise. Some people just had that soft touch, usually women.

Coming out to the front, your mouth already opening to ask them to leave, your words died in your throat.

Wanda.

Your eyes were frozen on her face, her eyes, those big doe eyes that always drew you in. She was smiling, an expression full of relief, and she was taking you in, grazing your body, before she moved forward to close the distance.

You stepped back.

Frozen with the air changing. Heavier, like you could feel the gravity pulling you down. Her light, happy, expression melted off and confusion replaced it.

“Wanda,” you said, wanting to cut her off, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t listen to her. She’d want you to come back. Five years for you, a few days for her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You may as well have slapped her.

“Shouldn’t be here?” Wanda repeated and you closed your eyes. For the first time in years, you heard her voice. That voice that whispered to you in your dreams. A voice you thought you could hear every time you were alone. “I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”

When you opened your eyes again, you jumped, she was right there. You didn’t even hear her footsteps. “Wan–” you began but then her lips were on yours, her tongue sliding into your open mouth and you grunted in shock. You didn’t kiss back but you didn’t push her off either. You froze. You let her tongue be pushed down your throat as her hands slid onto your cheeks.

Her thumbs beginning to rub small circles into your skin pushed you back into action, your hands going to hips to shove her off you hard enough that she stumbled back a few steps.

“Wanda, I can’t,” you hissed out. “It’s been five years. I…”

“Why aren’t you happy then?” Wanda asked, bewilderment splashed across her face and almost instantly did guilt wash through you. Like you were betraying her somehow. “I was gone for five years, and now I’m back. Why didn’t you come back? Surely, you didn’t move on that easily?”

With that, the guilt was gone.

“Easily?” You hissed out, your hands balling into fists, “don’t come into my shop and–”

You stopped. It was no use getting angry. Your sentences always fumbled into one elongated word that no one could ever understand. “You have no idea what the five years have been like,” you snapped and she tilted her head, just slightly, but enough that a cold chill went down your spine. “You shouldn’t have looked for me. I’m not interested in going back to the avengers. I moved on.”

With that, you turned on your heel to go behind the desk, tapping away at the register. Maybe if you ignored her, she’d get the hint and leave.

“So you developed an attitude?” Wanda remarked and slid her hands into the woollen cardigan that...you knitted her. You frowned when you made the connection. You spent hours labouring away at it. It wasn’t that good, the colours were awful, but she rarely took it off. “Seems we have to start at square one again.”

You frowned. You seem to be doing that a lot. You could already see the wrinkles beginning to form on your forehead. Why wasn’t she listening to you? “I’m seeing someone,” you blurted out as the cash register popped open loudly and Wanda’s face went blank as she registered what you just said. “A girl. She’s nice.”

You weren’t sure if you just signed this girl’s death certificate.

You kept eye contact with the Sokovian and even when her face morphed into a cold fury you hadn’t seen since the civil war. Her expression was tight and it almost looked like she was trying to hold herself back.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a moment, “I...I know this can’t be easy for you either. I know it must seem like last week that...well. You know. I just...that life is over, for me at least. I hope you can understand.”

Wanda was silent. She was being too silent. She didn’t say anything, she stood there watching you, and you were too nervous to say anything else or make the next move. Maybe, hopefully, Wanda wouldn’t even say anything else, just walk out. Resent you for the rest of her life. It was better that way.

Instead she walked around the register and your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Wanda-”

“Shut up,” she hissed, her hand whipping up to grab your jaw. Your hands shot up to her wrists and she dragged you forward, closer to her face. “Do you really think I’d let you give up on us this easily? That I’d let you whore yourself out to some girl off the street?”

You didn’t say anything but your glare said enough.

“I trained you so well. I spent years breaking you in, years loving you, and you treat me like this? Like I’m just some common bitch you can throw onto the street?” Wanda’s tone didn’t match her words. Her tone was soft, almost a coo, sounding more disappointed than angry. You almost wished she was more angry than disappointed.

Her lips were on yours again and her hand moved to the back of your head, her teeth biting down into your lips and you groaned at the sharp pain, giving her entrance back into your mouth.

A hand went down between your legs, rubbing, and you instinctively opened your legs. Your body remembered her. Remembered her scent. Everything.

Wanda hummed in approval and soon you were being pushed onto the counter. She broke the kiss, pulling back to look down at you, her hands beginning to rub the inside of your thighs. “Just one night,” she whispered, her expression already having smoothed out, as if that kiss, your touch, was all she needed. “One night with me and if you still want me to leave by the end of the night...well, I’ll leave you alone. Forever. Even if you change your mind. Even if you come crawling back, begging.”

You doubted her. Something in the back of your mind didn’t believe her. On anything. You were pretty sure she wanted you to beg. Your hands were shaking and you gulped. Everything about this reminded you of when you were last happy. Like you were back in the avengers tower where nothing was going wrong.

Her lips were on yours again and her hands soon began to pull at your skirt, ripping them off you with ease, to find nothing but your bare cunt for anyone to see. You jerked up when her hand slammed against it, slapping it. Once, twice, three times, four. “You dirty little whore,” she whispered, “you let anyone and everyone see this, didn’t you?” She slid a finger into your folds and your bottom lip trembled.

“Wanda…” you whispered, feeling your own walls beginning to crumble. Maybe one night wasn’t so bad. One night. One indulgence.

“It’s mine tonight,” Wanda confirmed before suddenly her hands were on your waist and flipped you around and your stomach slapped onto the desk, taking away your breath, leaving you gasping. “You said I didn’t know what happened. In the past five years. You’re right, I don’t, but you’re going to tell me. Tell me everything I missed. If you leave anything out, and I know when you do sweetheart, I’ll stop. Understand me?”

“Yes,” you breathed out as you felt her mouth in between your legs, her tongue lapping at your clit and your back arched as you tried to push more of yourself into her. Soon, it started spilling out. What you did the first few months, how you struggled to get out of bed, how you travelled the world. Therapy. Everything. Her tongue didn’t stop, in fact the more you spilt, her tongue sped up, making you wetter and wetter by the second. “I couldn’t get you out of my head,” you mumbled by the end of it, “I found her. She was everything you weren’t. Mundane. Boring.”

Your stomach was tightening, that tempting release building and building, so expertly brought on by the way Wanda devoured you, the way she breathed onto your throbbing clit, the way her tongue teased your gaping entrance. When you stopped, she pulled away and you bit down onto your bottom lip to stop yourself from cursing.

“Such a good little whore for me,” Wanda purred, her hand falling in between your slit to rub your clit and the moan that left your mouth sacrificed any and all self respect that you might have been clinging onto. “This is where you belong isn’t it? Bent over for mummy. I treat you so well, don’t I?”

Two fingers dipped into your already gaping entrance pushing them in and out. “I think you deserve a little reward,” Wanda hummed out, “for being so honest with mummy.”

You didn’t have much long to prepare before you felt a strap push into your entrance and you gasped in a sharp breath, your eyes bulging and your body pressed forward. Wanda didn’t push into you completely, only pushed the tip in and out, focussing on the one area.

In truth, that was worse than if she shoved into you completely. You were forced to focus on that one area, not get that relief if she were to push in deeper, and it was as if she was grabbing at every inch of your mind, forcing you to feel nothing but that tip dipping in and out of your body.

“Tell me…” she whispered, her hands coming onto your waist to grip them, nails digging into your skin, “tell me where you belong, baby girl. Who you belong to. Look at you, five years without me and you still get so wet for me. I go in so easily. Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going to leave you again.”

“W-w-” you choked out and you took in a breath, trying to contain the moans slipping out of your mouth, “you said one–”

Her hand slammed down onto your bare ass and you jerked forward. Still, she didn’t go deeper, didn’t give you what you wanted. Still, you didn’t verbalise this. Your skin was stinging and your fingers reached up to hang onto the edge of the desk.

“Answer my question, don’t make me treat you like a common whore,” Wanda hissed, pulling out completely just to thrust back in, shoving more of the shaft inside of you, ripping your walls open, but then she pulled back to just the tip again.

Then the doorbell rang again and it was as if someone poured a bucket of ice cold water all over your body. Your vision was already blurring by this point but you could see her outline, the blonde hair, standing at the door.

Wanda slammed into you, bottoming out, and a scream shot out of your lips, whilst her hands were in your hair, pulling your head back until your neck was straining. She could see your face, see every expression you pulled as Wanda began to fuck you without restraint.

“If I were you,” Wanda’s voice broke through your moans and screams, icy cold and calm despite the way she was beginning to thrust inside of you, “I’d leave and never come back. If you knew what was good for you, you’d wipe my girl from everything. Phone, address, memories.”

You couldn’t hear what she said, you could hear her voice, but unlike Wanda, it was all a garbled mess. Even in this state, Wanda’s words were in absolute clarity. You watched her leave. The door clicked shut and you swore you could see red mist at the door, locking it.

Wanda bent over you, pressing down onto your back, lips pressing against your neck, sucking and nipping, her hips still pushing inside of you, pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm that was tightening at the base of your stomach.

Then her movements slowed until she was completely still, her strap still inside of you, your walls wrapped around it, clinging to it.

“Much better, just us,” Wanda whispered as she nipped at your earlobe and you moaned. “You take my cock so well, don’t you? No, I couldn’t dream of letting you go, not when you’re such a good girl for me. I’ll take you with me and I’ll give you the life you want. A normal life, where no one will ever hurt you. You can read all you want. Forget the world outside. Just us two, together.”

“Mummy,” you whispered and you could feel her body vibrate as she hummed in approval. “Mummy, please.”

“Tell me where you belong,” she whispered back as she began to move her hips again.

“With you, mummy, under you. I missed you so much,” you whispered, “I belong to you. I always have.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know you did,” Wanda whispered before she stretched up and her hands went to your elbows, pulling you up from the table before she began to rail you. Sharp thrusts, slamming into you again and again, and tears began to burn the back of your eyes as pleasure began to roll through you. “You're going to cum for me like a good girl. Then you’re going to lie on this table to wait as I go pack your bags. You live above this, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, mummy,” you choked out as your orgasm was already threatening to flow through you. You could feel your own juices dripping down your thighs and you knew that your boss would be walking in to find an absolute mess.

“And then we’ll leave. Together.”

“Together.”

It wasn’t long until you felt like you were choking on your breath, your stomach twisting and churning, your legs trembling, and it was Wanda keeping you up. Otherwise, you would have collapsed onto the table, even the ground.

Soon, you felt it. Felt that blissful euphoria that often put you to sleep wash over you in intense waves that made your toes curl. Wanda was laughing, quietly, as she felt you come undone around her strap. “That’s it, baby girl, let it all go. Good little whore.”

She slid out of you with a pop and you groaned, the disappearing sensation already sorely missed. “Mummy, please, I still need you…” you mumbled, your words drowsy and reality was folding inwards around you as you felt your body hit the table again.

“I’ll be back, in just a moment,” Wanda whispered into your ear before her warmth disappeared and you could hear her moving through the store and up the creaky stairwell. Then your eyes slid open and you took in a deep breath as you began to move. Pushed off the desk, your legs sore and shaky but stable, and you looked for the skirt, long discarded. You knew you only had a small amount of time before she realised or, god forbid, heard you. Pulling the skirt up you grabbed only your wallet, didn’t even dare grab your phone and risk being tracked. You can get a burner if need be. You knew it’d be difficult, if she found you here, then she’d be able to find you wherever you went but...maybe she’ll give up.

You didn’t go through the front door, not with the bell, but there was a small door leading out to the back. Your footsteps were silent as could be, and your heart was beating in your chest. One wrong step and she could hear you. You could hear the banging doors, even her humming, but she didn’t stop.

Soon, you were in the back alley, with nothing but overflowing bins and a motorbike there. Yours. The only thing you kept from Stark. Faster than anything you could buy in a store. You hated riding with a skirt, let alone with these shoes, but what choice did you have?

You only had so much time to run.

#wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda #wanda x reader #top!wanda #wanda maximov #misfitwrites

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youranxiousnerd · 3 years

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Second Chances Thoughts

bc what

spoilers below

i have...thoughts

ah no chaotic intro, f in the chat

it’s still a nice intro, tho

IM SORRY ARE THEY NOT SHOWING THE TRANSFORMATION?!?!

WHAT

THIS IS A HATE CRIME /j

i used the thingy

no bows either?!?!

this is called high school musical: the musical: the series not high school musical: the backstage drama: the series

wow they got changed fast

“Passable!”

I’ll be the judge of that oh wait i cant bc they didnt show us

YES QUEEN ASHLYN GETTING THE LOVE SHE DESERVES

ashlyn is such a queen

the perfect belle, stunning

“A couple letters, actually” it’s a sign (literally)

flower touch

AWWW REDLYN

STOP THEY’RE ADORABLE

they love each other so much

east high kids be snooping

not me thinking about carlos’ hand on seb’s back we were robbed im taking what i can get

“You were the perfect Belle tonight. I was really proud”

“Evil genius”

they’re so happy

AWWW A REDLYN KISS WHOOP WHOOP

kourt and howie are so awkward

“drumroll?”

howie and seb would get along

weird little playoff, maybe he is lying?

they’re cute, tho

sad that they didn’t really get any build-up

“happy now?” “yes”

“If it’s with you, always” MY HEART

just like a fanfic

kourtney just invited north highs beast to east highs cast party

OH MY GOD MAZZARA IS ACTUALLY GETTING A STORY ABOUT HIM

i was not expecting that okay

ej and mazzara are the best

gina is so happy too bad it wont last

gina is an actress

gahhhh portwell drama

oh god rini let the drama begin

that was very calm, did someone possess nini and ricky?

i really like them as best friends. i was a hardcore rini shipper last season but with all their constant conflict i realized how much fun they are as friends

“we are literally on the same page”

“just for a moment” I LOST MY SHIT

miss jenn no

oooo seblos please be good

Seb calling Miss. Jenn out on her bullshit since idk when

“That’s a hard never mind now” okay wow

Miss. Jenn is Carlos’ godmother

This is theatre, not football

CRYING GINA

gini

GINA SUPPORT DAY IS A THING PEOPLE!!!!!

oh wow a plot line actually being addressed

season 1 callback im not ready

gina and nini people!!!

very sweet scene

ahha jamie callback we all knew it

i would really like to see miss jenns batb audition notes

“I’m in a great place, mentally” if you were you wouldn’t be saying that

OMFG IS SHE NOT GOING TO APOLOGIZE!?!?!

like that was a big deal, a big effing deal and then nothing?

you told a kid to jump off something high and you can’t even say “sorry”?!?!

back to the miss jenn love triangle

“I think I’m happy, or gettin’ there”

ricky you don’t have to be there yet it’s okay

that line hit

SEASON 1 OUTFITS

CORE 4 SONG

killer harmonies

sofia giving us that alto rep!!

portwell duet! audition outfits

very good, very very good. this song kinda screams autotune but it still sounds very good.

last song of the season NOOO but very fitting

Is it just me or does “Second Chance” look like a music video they show in Justice (the teen store) in 2014?

cast bonding yay!

PAUSE THE ONLY SEBLOS MOMENT WE GOT THIS EPISODE WAS A WRIST HOLD?!?!!

DISNEY WTF

LIKE EVERY COUPLE GOT THEIR MOMENT AND ALL THEY GET IS A WRIST HOLD

BFBLBFIWGFSDMBF

shit why does my favorite ship have to be the gay one on a disney show?

east high booing the lily and french boi has me on the floor

“Big Red, you were also in it” BEST LINE OF THE FINALE OMFG

i missed antoine

sorry carlos has glitter on his face

seb’s smile and wave at north high why am i laughing?

off topic but i have unintentionally started doing the seb wave (you know the one) (with the fingers) in real life.

also gay chair sit

e.j is also doing the gay chair sit

lily what

you have had like one conversation

she says she likes his face but not his personality?

im calling bullcrap

pause didn’t lily steal the harness? are we just going to forget about that

probably, the writers did forgot to develop seblos

Let Ricky be single challenge

ANTOINE MY LOVE

REDLYN I LOVE YOU

SHUSH EJ’S SPEECH TIME TO SOB

ummmm

so this season has been for nothing?

all the shit they went through (the self-doubt, relationship problems, the injuries, the death threats) is for nothing?!?

since when does Miss. Jenn not care anymore about the Menkies?!?!

I actually get the kids side of this, but not Miss. Jenn’s.

I was surprised they took this route with the Menkies, didn’t even cross my mind

“It was five”

Big Red x medicine

bet your ass ashlyn would have gotten a nomination best actress

“We got a pizza oven” THE EAST HIGH KIDS ARE COMMITTING ARSON

is mazzara staying for miss jenn? they could do long distance but it doesnt have the best rep in this show

gini

ashlyn is the captain of the portwell ship and nini is her right hand man (or whatever second best is called in sailing)

NINI MAKIN THE DEALS

RICKY WHY ARE YOU CALLING HER

WHYYYYYY

“Will you be my first kiss” smiles

OH MY GOD

WAIT NOTHING

WHAT

OMFG THEY CUT IT LMAO

“this summer is about to get hot” SUMMER SEASON 3?!?!

ANTOINE

OMFG HE BETTER COME BACK

I LOVE ABF

WAIT THATS IT

FWBEGLEWG

THATS IT

hey they ended with andrew barth feldman what more can you ask for?

Thats...it?

Oh wait some cast stuff...brb ima cry. The ending has some very series finale energy...I’m scared. Natalie wouldn’t have done the “buckle up wildcats” if there wasn’t a season 3, right? But the bloopers at the end...

The cast ending was great. “You are the Music in Me” was so heartfelt and I’m a sucker for bloopers.

Wait so no Lily home? It was probably a cut scene.

If we got Lily home, can we get an album with the cast singing all the BATB songs?

I have so many mixed feelings about this episode. Here is the thing, if you love the core 4 then this was your episode. If you’re like me and prefer the side leads then this was probably a little disappointing since we barely saw them. This episode felt rushed and a little messy, but there were some great moments. Season 2′s writing has felt a little weird. This season lacked the chaotic theater kid energy season 1 had. It was one of the reasons I fell in love with the show. If/when we get a season 3 I really hope the writers find that energy again.

Let’s all give a round of applause for the cast and crew who filmed majority of the season during a global pandemic. That could not have been easy. They gave us a pretty good season under crazy conditions. They definitely had to change some things to fit the current climate. Overall, hats off the the cast and crew because you guys killed it.

I’m really going to miss this show, hopefully it gets renewed. It has become a comfort show these past several weeks. My sanity says “no, don’t go” but my sleep schedule says “leave.”

To second chances!!

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thedevildomdaily · 3 years

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Demonic Possessions Ch 3.Mr. Happyface Sunshine Boy & The Best Route Responses

NOTE: I hope you're enjoying the new fic. I feel much happier and less exhausted. n_n Let me know in the notes or via private message your thoughts on anything related to the fic and/or my characters. I do want to develop relationships between all of the characters before the NSFW stuff happens. I hope y'all are cool with that.

Warnings: Just typical swearing this chapter

Lena was reluctant to say, “I think our exit from your bedroom this morning gave Levi the wrong impression...and it made him uncomfortable.” Lilly and Asmodeus had completely different reactions. The human was concerned, knowing how much anxiety Levi could have in situations that made him feel awkward. His younger brother, however, thought it was hilarious!

And of course he would. He interacted with the nephilim as intimately as possible, purposefully allowing his brothers to assume something happened with her. He didn’t realize just how strongly Leviathan would feel about it. It was quite amusing.

“Uhm...Lucifer?” Lena hesitantly called to the eldest demon. He, of course, looked irked by his brother’s exclamation and exit from the group. “My tour guide just ran away. What do you want me to do?” She accepted Lucifer as her ‘boss’ while staying in the Devildom. There was something about his demeanor, his smug expression, that irritated her a little. The way he looked down at her (quite literally) with an indifference.

“Satan. Escort Lena to her first class.” The blonde’s face was stuck in a book as he walked behind them. He sighed, and nodded, “Right. Follow me Lena.”

Lucifer continued before she could walk away, “Leviathan will be in each of your classes. Follow after him, even if he’s reluctant to walk with you. If he tries to actually abandon you, remind him that I told him to escort you and there will be consequences if he fails.”

Her eyes widened at that statement. That was a little extreme. It made her think that Lucifer really didn’t like or trust her at all. He absolutely wanted the indigo-haired otaku to stick with her, even against his will. “Ugh...okay…”

After agreeing to relay the message, Lena and Satan divided from the group. He at least had this first class with Leviathan and herself. Maybe it wouldn’t be so awkward? It was definitely premature to be getting jealous over her; they’d known each other for less than 24 hours. She’d really hoped to run into her brothers, but she’d settle for seeing them at lunchtime.

“How should I approach Leviathan?” Lena finally asked Satan. He seemed so absorbed in his reading that she didn’t really want to bother him too much.

Satan snapped his book shut in a nonchalant manner, and looked upwards as he thought. “Why would you want to approach him? He’s pretty much the greatest shut-in I’ve ever seen. He’s not one for making friends unless they are 2-D characters in his video games.”

Lena frowned, “Well for one, that’s really harsh. Two, that’s exactly why I’d like to talk to him. I want to be his friend, especially since he’s my ward under command of Mr. Happyface Sunshine Boy…” The nephilim mocked Lucifer’s stance and Satan froze for a moment.

“Did you just…?” He couldn’t believe someone referred to Lucifer as ‘Mr. Happyface Sunshine Boy’. Satan was on the verge of dying and sinking into Oblivion over that. He had to cover his mouth with his fist, trying his best to refrain from revealing the true joy he was feeling.

Of course caught on to him trying his best to hide the laughter. “What, is that not accurate? How about Sir Jubilant VanLaughs A Lot? Dr. Giggling WonderHugs?” she smirked and tried to peek at Satan, to see the tears beading-up around his eyes. His ears were red too and it was so cute and hilarious.

“S-top it..” he murmured. There was very little air left in Satan’s lungs, “I can’t. I think I will always refer to Lucifer as Mr Happyface Sunshine Boy...it’s so wrong…”

The two made the rest of the trip to the third floor alchemy lab mocking the eldest demon brother. Apparently he and Belphegor weren’t huge fans of his. Lena would take note of that as leverage for getting Belphegor to warm up to her later on if necessary. She wanted him to just give her a small chance if possible. Leviathan too. She thought she’d gotten off to a good start, talking games and anime the other evening before dinner.

Speak of the devil(haha)! Leviathan was sitting alone at a potions table, his face still glued to his phone. There was an empty seat beside him, so Lena actually bolted to it just as the bell rang. The demon’ eyes widened beneath his long bangs at her suddenly beside him. And since the bell rang, he couldn’t get up. Not that there were any other seats available now anyways.

“Looking to escape me?” Lena whispered, “too bad son! You’re stuck with me like glue until my time in the Devildom ends. Your delightfully charming brother Lucifer wanted me to let you know.” This caused his face to glow red and he gripped his DDD tightly. She couldn’t even tell if he was angry or embarrassed. She assumed both, but decided not to let up. If he was going to run, she would chase until he caved in. It was a little exciting.

As soon as alchemy ended, the third oldest brother tried to bolt, but Satan and Lena both took his arms. The blonde decided to help out in exchange for the laughs she gave him at Lucifer’s expense earlier. She may be worthy of his little club ya know? Besides, he would somehow get blamed for leaving Lena otherwise unattended to if Levi didn’t cooperate.

“WAAAAGH!!!!” he exclaimed, “Let go! Physical contact is a no for me!”

“Will you please listen to me for a moment?” Lena asked. He shook his head ‘no’. It made her sigh and she let go of him. “Fine...I wish you’d just talk to me for a moment. I mean, wouldn’t Ruri-chan give me a chance?”

That caused the demon to freeze. What did she know about Ruri-chan!? Still, even though she was taking a wild guess, Lena was right. Ruri-chan always gave her friends the benefit of a doubt and was eager to hear anyone out.

The third oldest looked first to Lena, and then to Satan. Where she was looking dejected, his brother looked pissed. He’d tell Lucifer in a heartbeat if he were to run off again he was sure. He was already going to hear about it when he saw Lucifer next anyways and he was afraid he was going to get grounded from purchasing anything on Akuzon for a month.

“W-wait.” He stammered as Lena started to pull away from him, “That was a low-blow using my precious Ruri-chan against me!” He eyed her sternly and sighed, “What do you have to say to a shut-in like me anyways?”

“Firstly, I want to say this: Stop talking down about yourself. There’s nothing wrong with being an Otaku or an introvert. You’re way too hard on yourself and if it’s because your brothers make fun of them, then just ignore ‘em. They all have flaws too. Some of which are way worse than nerdy obsessions…” Lena gave a side glance at a knowing Satan. He had gone on a solid tangent about Lucifer earlier, and then remembered his anger towards Mammon.

Lena continued, following the brothers into the hall slowly, “Next, I want to address what happened with Asmodeus.” She couldn’t believe she was having this talk with a grown-ass demon. “Not that it is ANYONE’S business, but nothing happened between us last night. He was just being his flirty self. His implications were to just play a joke. He’s rather mischievous isn’t he?”

“You’ve got no idea…” Satan grumbled.

“I may be 5’4” and I am a half human. But I am probably older than Solomon himself and I don’t feel threatened at all by Asmo so you have nothing to fret over if you’re just concerned for my safety.” She knew that wasn’t the case. It was really cute knowing he was a little smitten by her in such a short time.

Leviathan saw the chance to get through this embarrassing event and move on. “Yes...I was just concerned about you and didn’t know how to address it. Asmo can be extremely lecherous and I didn’t know if a nephilim could resist his charm abilities.”

“Well I couldn’t deny that I was a little curious…” Lena snickered, “I’m just not that easy. And it's really nothing to get worked up over. His and my relationship is of it’s own and I wouldn’t let it stop me from pursuing others…” The brothers paused and blinked before looking at each other, not quite understanding what Lena meant. The expressions made her laugh some more.

“What does that mean exactly?” Satan asked. He’d glanced at the time and motioned for them to hurry on to their next class.

Lena played it coy at first, “I dunno..you tell me.” The blonde frowned and glared at her. She was just as bad as Asmo it seemed. “Fine. it’s means that I’m non-monogamous. I believe in open relationships…”

Leviathan’s brows raised and Satan got a little embarrassed for pressing the matter. “I see...well then I’m certain Asmo wouldn’t mind if you did decide to…you know what? Never mind. We’ve no time to discuss this. Get to class and I’ll see you both later. Leviathan. Don’t abandon her again or Lucifer will tie you up like he does Mammon…”

That made his older brother gulp and start picking up the pace, “C-Come on Lena!”

The nephilim laughed and followed after Leviathan to Advanced Demonology & Ethereal Beings. It seems that she had managed to fix things with him, only to embarrass Satan next. These demon lords were such easy targets and she wasn’t even trying. The only reason Leviathan didn’t get further involved into the conversation was because he wasn’t entirely sure he grasped what she was saying for one, and the fact that he swore he saw Lucifer in the distance glaring at him caused Leviathan to be distracted for another.

The two barely made it to their next class. Both Belphegor and Beelzebub were in there as well. After welcoming Lena and reviewing the material from the previous day, the instructor had the class silently read a couple of chapters and answer the corresponding review questions. Typical school stuff.

Bored, Lena decided to take her new DDD for a test drive by chatting with Levi who looked as extremely bored as her. She also noticed that the youngest brother was sound asleep and drooling so much. She snapped a picture of it for a later date. Too cute!

Lena:“So are you going to go shopping with us after school today?”

Levi: “Yeah I guess. There's a comic shop I want to show you that has crane games I want to try my hand at again.”

Lena: “Sweet! Should I invite the twins as well?”

Levi: “Lol you can try. Beel will go if he can eat somewhere. Belphie is totes salty w/ you still I bet!”

Lena: “Well he is the baby I guess? Lol I don’t want him to hate me though!!! T_T ”

Levi: “ROFL!! 1000% The baby! Idk how to get him to like you. Start with Beel first. He only listens to him.”

Lena: “Totally get it! My bros & I won’t listen to anyone else. Lol well, we only listen to Azri. He’s Boss Level diva and we don’t want him nagging at us! Kinda like a certain big bro of yours amiright!?! ;D”

Levi: “OMD!!!! ROFL!”

Leviathan actually chuckled a bit in the quiet classroom and Beelzebub took notice. Actually a couple others noticed. It made Lena giggle under her breath too and she put her head down on her open text book.

When class ended, Leviathan waited for Lena to get some additional assignments from the instructor so she could catch up. She didn’t look like it, but the nephilim was a solid A student and enjoyed learning new things. It came with being one of the oldest females alive in the human world, and going through the struggles of inequality. Like hell was she going to let her gender decide her ability to learn. She was glad her father was so progressive and allowed her to go to school and do pretty much anything her brothers did.

“It looks like the two of you are getting along better.” Beelzebub said to Leviathan as he nudged Belphegor awake.

Leviathan was going to choose the tsundere path during this play-through. “I don’t know what you mean. We’re fine. It’s not like I was personally upset with her, a 3D world member.” Sure. Sure.

“So you’re just afraid of Lucifer’s punishment?” Belphegor asked with a huge yawn between words, “Then why were you two giggling and texting each other during class?”

His two brothers stared at Belphegor dumbfoundedly, “how could you possibly know that?! You were sound asleep!” Levi exclaimed.

“You were snuggling your book as a pillow and now it’s covered in drool again…” Beel added. He held it up by the ‘dry corner’ to show a long slime trail dripping off the bottom. “Satan is going to be mad because he just got you this replacement.”

“Oh hey guys!” Lena interjected as she joined them, “Sorry it took a moment Levi.” He waved it off. “So did you ask them?”

“Ask us what?” Belphegor gave the nephilim a suspicious look. He still didn’t trust her and of course he was still salty about losing his clubhouse in the attic to her.

Lena took the opportunity to actually get a chance to talk with Belphegor, “Last night Lilly, Asmo, and Mammon decided to take me on a big shopping trip to get a few necessities and to show me around the downtown area.” She tried to gauge his face for a mood change, “I wanted to see if you two would like to join us?”

The twins thought for a moment. Clearly Beel was waiting on his twin’s response because he was being supportive of him and his feelings. It was extremely sweet. To nudge them into agreeing, Lena decided to pander a little.

“Lilly told me that you would be the perfect person to show me where to get some good local food, Beel. Oh, uhm is it okay to call you that?” She asked cheerfully.

Beel’s full attention quickly shot to Lena, “Yes! I can definitely take you on a food tour through the city!” he chuckled, fully game to dine with her and totally forgetting his brother in the process. “And you can call me Beel, that’s fine!”

Belphegor could see what Lena was doing. She was clearly trying to charm the both of them like Asmo or Mammon when they wanted something badly. He was definitely not going to fall for it…

“And Belphegor...Asmo said you were the one to help him pick out those extremely soft pillows he’s got; the comforter too! Now, I’ve never been into the Celestial Realm or anything, but I imagine that must be what a Heavenly cloud feels like!?” Lena boasted, “Could you pretty please help me find something like that? You must be an expert finding the right fit…”

“Of course I am. I have a huge collection of different types of pillows…” and he fell for it!

By the end of their discussion, Lena had both Beel and Belphegor agreeing to tag along after school. Leviathan told her she chose the best Route Responses for the both of them and the Event would be successful.

They went on to their next class, and agreed to join the twins and others at lunch time to discuss the trip.

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cakejots · 3 years

Text

Unstained, Chapter 3

After certain events that happened in the day, Chat Noir revealed to Ladybug that he knows who she is under the mask. Her reactions astounded him. After certain events that happened in the night, Ladybug unveiled to Chat Noir why she can’t do what he asked of her. His reactions astonished her.

Rating: T, Words: 6938. Chapters: 4/4

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4

Read on AO3

Warmth enveloped her entire being as their lips connected. The calmness that followed was something Ladybug craved even more now that she had experienced it. Chat’s lips were soft, warm, and inviting, and Ladybug found herself wanting more of this sensation. Pressing her lips harder against his, she tasted a hint of saltiness on his lips, a stark contrast to the absolute sweetness she felt and savoured before.

Ladybug pulled back as soon as she realised what she was doing. Chat’s eyes were as wide-blown as hers.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t know what I was doing! Oh no, you’re going to think I’m weird now, aren’t you? What’s wrong with—”

“My lady.”

She stopped her frantic rambling at once and focused all her attention on him.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Chat smiled gently, his hand found hers and squeezed them tenderly.

Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief. She enjoyed the feeling of their lips pressed together. She wanted more, and so she asked.

“Okay, then can I do something that calms me down?”

“Just say you want to kiss me again,” he smirked.

Mock-offended, she turned away from him, hands crossed. With a mischievous smile, he leaned to where her face was and kissed the corner of her lips. She burst into flames at that gesture.

“Cute.”

“Stop teasing,” she said as she flicked his bell.

He twinkled as the sound of his bell tinkled. “I’ll give you all the kisses you asked for my lady, but I don’t want to confuse you even more. Besides, there are other ways to relieve the stress you’re feeling.”

“Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”

“What about me?”

“Chat, are you feeling okay?” Concern laced in her voice.

“Yeah, as supurr as always!” He fist-bumped the air.

“Then what’s going on? You almost got akumatised today.”

He stared at her, and she stared back.

“Are you not going to talk about it?” She asked.

“I don’t see you talking about yours!”

“Mine isn’t as dire as yours! You were feeling such negative emotions to the point you got akumatised!” Ladybug held his face to look at her, her thumbs caressed his cheeks in the process. “Adrien, is there something I can do for you right now?”

He closed his eyes and leaned against her left hand, craving more for her touch.

“Chaton… you said you want me to share my burdens with you. It’s not fair that I’m the only receiving party here,” she paused to steady her voice, she needed to be strong for him. “Please. Let me be there for you too.”

Upon hearing her wavering voice, he opened his eyes to look at her. Worried eyes stared back and he slowly pushed her down till her back was against the roof tile. He laid his head on her chest and started purring.

“Please stop making this about me, this really needs to be addressed,” Ladybug cradled his head in her arms and begged softly, thinking how much of a failure she was in comforting her partner.

“I’m sorry—“

“W-what?”

“—and no, I wasn’t feeling the best earlier today. It was about my mother, I suddenly got hit by the fact that I can’t remember much about her anymore.”

She started caressing his scalp. “Was it your father?”

He closed his eyes. “S-surprise?”

Ladybug stopped her ministrations and Chat could feel her heartbeat picked up. He started purring again to calm her down, knowing that she adores it when he purred, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

“I’m really fine now, Buguinette. Could you continue whatever you’ve been doing? It feels really good,” he commented cheekily.

She continued her soothing actions from before, despite the disparity of emotions within her heart and mind. Gabriel Agreste really is a piece of shit. But why? How could he do this to his son, a literal cinnamon roll that the world can’t hold a candle to? What did he do to deserve such a kind soul to be called his? Where was the love, care, and protection that he is supposed to provide for Adrien as an actual parent should? Who does he think he is, abusing Adrien like that? What the—

“My lady?”

Ladybug snapped out of her thoughts and looked at him.

“Not that I mind you pulling my hair, but here’s not the best place to do it,” he grinned.

Ladybug sat up abruptly which resulted in her head hitting his nose in the process. He yelped at the impact and suddenly he was on his back with her on top of him pulling his cheeks.

“You love teasing me, huh?”

He grabbed her wrists to stop the pulling, “of course, your face turns into a pretty shade of pink and it really suits you. Besides, it’s fun seeing you all flustered like that, I kinda missed the old Marinette.” Something clicked in his mind, “it all makes sense now.”

“What does?”

“You were all jittery around me because you love me.”

Ladybug just realised that she had indeed confessed to him, and her face is now covered in brilliant red. “I-I wasn’t all jittery.”

“Yes, you were,” he said with a smug.

“Argh,” Ladybug plopped back down to Chat’s chest, effectively hiding her face from his view. “I can’t win this.”

He laughed and placed his hands on her back. “But I do hope that I get to tease you as someone more significant than a friend.”

“I hope so too,” she muttered, but Chat could hear it anyway.

They settled into a comfortable silence before her voice vibrated in his chest.

“Adrien?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you’ve been dealing with your troubles all on your own, and it’ll probably stay like that for a while. But can I ask you to let me—us know whenever you’re not feeling your best? You don’t even have to tell us what it is. Just let us know that you’re feeling down. You can tell Nino about it without letting me know too if you’re more comfortable that way. Just, anything to keep the negative emotions at bay,” her arm had reached up to grasp his shoulder, seemingly pleading with him.

“How will telling you guys disperse my negative emotions?”

She reached up even further and scratched behind his cat ears, her face now a few centimetres from his.

He purred, “Oh yes, it does make me feel better, doesn’t it? You should try it too!”

“What—”

Chat had already pulled her hair ties and had begun to massage her scalp.

Ladybug shivered and smiled before releasing a soft gasp. She slapped her hands on her mouth, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” He looked at her with a glint in his eyes.

She sat up and whimpered as his last touches slipped from her scalp down her neck. Ladybug glared at Chat while he sat up and smiled innocently.

“Give me back my hair ties.”

“No way, let these hair ties be a symbol of a promise between us that we will let go of our burdens and share them. Besides, you look beautiful like this too,” he said easily.

Ladybug had lost count of the number of times her cheeks flushed, but she tried her best to give him a flat look.

“What?”

“You didn’t let go of anything.”

Chat proceeded to tie his fringe with one of her hair ties and released it once he heard Ladybug giggled at how silly he looked. “There, now we both let go of something.”

“Fair enough,” she smiled, placed her right hand on her heart and raised her left hand. “Ladybug’s word.”

“Cat’s word,” he mimicked her actions and recalled the time where he was tempted to open the door to find out who the love of his life was. What a turn of events.

“Okay, now that we are on the same page, how do we go from here?” She put on a serious face. “Alya and Nino, or anyone else for that matter, are going to get suspicious if we are suddenly as close as our superhero selves.”

“Easy, we’d just stick together until they ask about it, and we just tell the truth,” he rolled his eyes.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow and waited for Chat to explain.

“We’d tell the truth up till the point where that blasted butterfly appeared. It’d be all rainbows and sunshine from there.” He started listing with his fingers. “You found me crying in a park, comforted me, I was so thankful that someone reached out, and I chose to stick to you from then on. Who knows, Alya and Nino might even leave us alone to ‘develop our relationship'. A win-win situation, my lady.”

“So, we are basically going to stick together from the start? Wouldn’t that raise suspicions?” She frowned.

“Yep, and nope.” He grinned from ear to ear.

“Minou, don’t you think they are going to ask about the appearance of Akumas. You, who hardly ever cry and keep your emotions locked within your heart, broke down in a park.” Ladybug's heart wrenched at the memory. “That alone should scream that you’re at your breaking point. There’s no way an Akuma wouldn’t appear. You know that; they know that.”

“Then, we don’t tell them that I cried. You found me when I was feeling depressed, and I just decided to share more about it.” He pressed.

At this point, Ladybug scooted over to Chat and hugged him. “Adrien, I know you’re tired of secrets and want us to be together as much as possible. Trust me, I long for that too. But I can’t help but think it will still raise suspicions.” She pulled back and cupped his cheeks, stroking them. “Why don't we start slow? We keep our distance but slowly get closer as we learn more about each other. Like maybe the stress of being in the last year of lycée has led us to fall on each other for support or something. Give it two weeks to a month, then we can physically start getting closer.”

“But—”

“I’m not done yet Chaton. In the meantime, behind closed doors, we can hang out as our superhero selves, text to check up on one another, anything.”

He pulled her into his embrace once again and nuzzled her hair whispering into her ear. “Anything?”

Ladybug shivered at the tingling sensation and had enough of whatever he was doing. She placed her arms around his neck and her face reached for his ear. “You know what I mean,” and bit his ear.

He squawked and pulled back with a visibly red face. “My lady! How scandalous!”

A smirk finally graced her face.

#mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #post chat blanc #hurt/comfort #unstained

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mymindsmadness · 5 years

Text

Why I hate seeing the Uchiha logo on Sakura’s shirt/why I don’t ship SasuSaku

DISCLAIMER: I’m not shitting on anyone’s ship. I get it. You love them. You do you booboo, I’m just here to speak my truth. Don’t come at me with comments shitting all over the things I love. You have your opinion and I have mine.

If you are a SasuSaku shipper and you read past this point, you have no one but yourself to blame for your anger!

I’m probably gonna rant a bit, so I’ll start with the bottom line. Sakura and Sasuke’s relationship is one of the most toxic relationships I’ve ever seen.

Unrelated (but kind of related): All the female character are written pretty shitty, and that adds to this whole mess.

Part I [Young Love]:

Okay. I get it. She’s all for Sasuke and he doesn’t give her the time of day. We love a queen that gets hers in the end. The problem is that Sakura’s core personality traits are based off of her obsession. Her wants. Her flaws. Her essence as a [non] person is completely defined by Sasuke’s character. This is even verified when Kakashi asks them about themselves and Sakura literally gives [giggles] Sasuke for every answer.

When they’re tested with the bells, Sakura shows no ninja prowess whatsoever. She shows no skill beyond hiding in a bush. The only time we really see her moving/thinking/talking, is when it’s to ‘rescue Sasuke’. She even refers to him as ‘my Sasuke’ a dozen or so times. Seriously, it could be a drinking game.

During the chunin exams, we see a little more of a backbone from Sakura. But even as she struggles to make herself be seen, she really only wants to be seen by – you guessed it – Sasuke.

When Sasuke gets extra angsty [YOLO style], and tries to leave the village, Sakura tries to go with him. Think about that. Sakura tries to leave the village. Her home. Her family. Her friends. Everything! She does this because the idea of becoming a criminal is more appealing than being left behind by Sasuke.

But you know what? I’ll excuse it. She’s only thirteen at this point. She’s entitled to make stupid choices in the name of puppy love. We’ve all been there, man. And sure, at thirteen all love feels like true love. You know what girl? I forgive you.

Part II [Personal Growth]

At this point, Sakura’s whole character arch is defined by the people that leave her. And I could forgive this – almost. Enter Tsunade. I love Tsunade. I worship Tsunade. She is probably the one female character in the whole show that is as well integrated as the men [if we ignore the fact that her whole backstory is revolved around them]. When Sakura started training with Tsunade, I knew there was about to be an Eye of the Tiger montage. Sure enough, my girl comes through. Come Shippuden, Sakura is kicking ass and taking names [literally]. Better yet, she found her niche in medical ninjutsu [insert joke about how females always play the healers]. She’s got chakra for days and the control of a saint. Piss my girl off? You ‘bout to lose a lung.

Yes, Sakura’s still insecure when it comes to her place among the others, but can we blame her? She had demi-gods as teammates. But it’s different now. Sakura knows she’s a badass. She’s fully aware that her control and strength are something to be proud of. She uses those years of neglect and training to help her comrades!... and chase down Sasuke.

By the beginning of the 4th war, this bitch has lost her damn mind. At this point, Sakura and Naruto have been searching for Sasuke for the last 3 [or so] years. All this time, Sakura is under the impression that she’s in love with him. The times from when Sasuke left to the end of the war, are some of the most defining years in a person’s life. At 13-17 is when a person’s personality really starts to develop and lay out the foundation for the adult they will be.

Part III [All’s Fair]

Now, I’m not saying that Sakura didn’t hold a certain level of love for Sasuke her whole life. It’s very possible. However, there was no way it could be a romantic love. Think about who you were when you were twelve. Now think about who you were at seventeen. Did anything change in that time?

Sakura could not have been in love with Sasuke because she didn’t know who he was. They hadn’t been in contact in years! She had the memory of who he had been on a pedestal, and without him around to alter that image, it became more and more idyllic. By the time Sasuke returned [at the end of the war], Sakura was still in love with the idea of him.

She had put their relationship and romance in the forefront of her mind all of her life. It had been her driving force and defining mindset. When this crazy ass bitch [ily gurl] activated her seal and literally jumped on a pike for her boys, it was the most badass thing she’d ever done. And when she was done with that? She got upset that Sasuke hadn’t noticed/cared. She was fighting for her friends, her family, her village, her life… and all that confidence she had gained was brought down by the fact that the boy she thought she loved didn’t notice.

Part IV [In Which Sasuke Cares… Allegedly]

Remember when Sakura finally got Sasuke to notice her? When he overcame his terminal broodiness and admitted that he was touched that she never gave up hope in him? When he kissed her goodbye with the promise of returning and being worth all of her unfounded love and attention?

Oh… right… that never happened.

I mean… he tapped her forehead like Itachi did to him that one time… Same thing I suppose.

Okay, okay… I might be being a little harsh. I’ll concede that it is a genuine act of affection for Sasuke. But… a minor one. Alright, our broody boi doesn’t like PDA… Still, we’re given no indication that they talked about their feelings before this goodbye. That’s backed up by the fact that she asks to go with him – something she would have done before now if they had. Legit, Naruto got more of a goodbye than Sakura did [two dudes, chillin’ in the woods].

To the best of everyone’s knowledge, Sasuke only stayed in Konoha for about a year after the war. Now, depending if you follow the manga or anime, some of that time might have been in jail. My point is, that a year or less was spent in the village after several years of Sakura loving him from a distance.

At this point, she very well might have learned about the older Sasuke. She might have decided that she did still love him [doubtful on a realistic level]. But then he leaves. We’re not sure for how long, but if we look at Boruto, it’s common for him to leave for long periods of time.

Once again, Sakura is left behind with her memories of the man she thinks she loves [because without a functioning adult relationship, there’s no way to be sure].

Part V [Sakura Achieves Her Nightmare Dreams]

Let’s step into Boruto for this next part. We flash forward to all of our beloved characters in their adult years. I know what you’re thinking ‘Oh! I’ve missed so much! They’re all so grown up!’. Hahaha, don’t worry. They’re not at all the same people.

Since the series is based on the children, we’re forced to fill in some of the blanks ourselves. Sakura – the best medic nin in Konoha. The woman whose strength rivals that of her mentor’s. The woman who mastered the Seal of 100. The woman who grew into her own as a character, even if the driving force was a boy - is living her best life as… a housewife? I mean... maybe?

We don’t know this for sure, and a lot of us hope she runs the hospital or something [because we want all good things for our girl], but have you noticed that she doesn’t wear a headband? A ninja one that is. The girl who worked hard to not be left behind’s whole adulthood is… the woman left behind.

Even if it can be argued that she achieved her goal… has she? Yes, she wanted to be Sasuke’s wife and baby mama since waaaaay too young of an age to be thinking about that shit, but like this? We know from the fact that Sakura fainted when Sasuke came home that he’s rarely there. This means that she probably raised their daughter alone. Even now, she can’t just leave because Sasuke’s always away.

If you think I’m taking libraries with filling in the gaps, I refer you to that one time her daughter basically asked if they were really married. And if you think I’m exaggerating Sasuke’s absence, I refer you to that time he almost killed his fucking daughter because he didn’t know what she looked like!

Let that sink in.

Part VI [In Summation]

Sakura was a girl that grew up with a false ideal of love. She obsessed over a person that didn’t exist and carried that falsehood into her adult life. When presented with everything she thought she had wanted her whole life, Sakura jumped on the chance because it was the logical move. In gaining everything that she thought she wanted, Sakura lost any personal growth that she had gained by the absence of her obsession aka Sasuke.

Sasuke, who had ignored her as a child, tried to kill her as a teen, and barely acknowledged her beyond using her to revive his clan, can’t be bothered to even appreciate her. Even as he leaves again as an adult, he says goodbye to their daughter [again, with an oh-so-affectionate poke], but simply walks away from Sakura.

The truth is that given the way she blushes and faints around him still, Sakura doesn’t know him. She’s still in love with an idea of the man that grew from the boy she had been obsessed with all her life. She wears the Uchiha symbol on her back as a reminder that she did it. She got the guy! True love wins again! I mean… maybe? He’s fucked her at least, so…

There’s a chance that Sasuke loves Sakura. I think he loves her for loving him. At the very least, we know he’s fond of her… I assume.

Sakura was a character that was used to further the plot of a man. Even as an adult, she’s left to sit and pine as the boys go off on their adventures. She’s a woman that’s stuck in a hell of her own creation – even if she loves her daughter and the things that marrying Sasuke has brought her.

There’s ‘getting the guy’ and being trapped in a toxic idealized relationship. How you choose to see this one is up to you.

#anti sasusaku #naruto #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #my opinion #rant #toxic relationship

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bibybuck · 4 years

Text

I die of love for him (2/6)

fandom: The Old Guard

pairing: Joe/Nicky

rating: teen and up

word count: 1.5k words (3.4k in total)

summary: ‘Yusuf can’t help but stare at him, but that’s okay, because Nicolo’s staring as well. He wonders if this was the reason God has brought them together: two people on opposing sides, giving them the opportunity to see, to experience, the other’s life.’

or: Six years and six places in Yusuf and Nicolo’s lives and relationship.

title is from a poem called 'Love in Bloom’ by the Arabic poet Abu Nuwas

for @santiagosnart <3

[read on ao3]

or under the cut!

A bell beckons the believers in the distance. It’s a hot Sunday morning, the Sun scorching the Sicilian earth. Yet, the market is in full swing, people buying and bartering, trying to get what they can and selling what they can. Stalls are selling plump apples and pears, while others have colourful knick-knacks.

Yusuf is sitting on the small balcony, watching the crowds beneath. He wishes he could be down there, mixing with the people, maybe even buying some of those peaches Nicolo loves so much. But he can't, because he’s not welcome there.

They’ve been talking about moving on, going somewhere else. But it’s not easy finding a place that’s safe for them both. And besides, deep down, Yusuf doesn’t want to leave. He likes it in Palermo, loves the house they’ve got. They made this their home for the time being, with Yusuf’s drawings hanging on the walls and bits and bobs Nicolo buys at markets.

After Jerusalem, they made their way to the coast. In exchange for work, he and Nicolo got passage to Greece. They spent a couple of months trying to come up with a plan, trying to figure out where to go. Italy was the obvious choice, but they both knew that the powerful grasp of the Catholic church has reached most places. Finally, they settled on Sicily, where they’ve been for the past months. So it’s not like they have to stay here because the unknown of travelling is daunting. Yusuf’s tired of it, being on a ship, living in squalor with sailors.

It’s also quite hard to explain that, when they get attacked and when several crew members see them getting impaled, no, they just can’t die.

So they are in Palermo and will stay until they come up with something better.

Yusuf returns to his sketch. The scene on his canvas is looking a bit better, but he’s still not happy with it. He just can’t quite capture the features of Nicolo. Nothing is as good as the real thing, unfortunately.

And right on time, the door opens and in walks Nicolo with a basket on his hip. Yusuf looks up and can’t help but feel a tremendous amount of love for that man. The only thing is, he knows he’s not allowed to love him because he’s been taught it’s wrong.

But how can love so pure and great and overwhelming be wrong?

“What are you doing?” Nicolo asks in Arabic as he joins Yusuf on the balcony. Over time, they picked up each other’s languages and nowadays, they don’t even think about what language they use. “My nose isn’t that big,” he teases with a smirk.

“But your ego is.”

Nicolo gives him a stunned look before laughing. He then walks back inside to empty the basket. Yusuf follows him, not just to help, but to be near him.

Over the past couple of years, they’ve developed a friendship, although, at times, Yusuf feels it’s a bit more for both of them. A lot more. Nicolo often talks about his past, about how he was forced to become a priest because he loved a boy when he was young. He talks about his religion, too, which Yusuf loves hearing about, because he’s curious, but he hurts when he hears the pain in Nicolo’s voice. He used to be a devout believer, but that was before his religion chastised him for not being able to control his heart. Being so dedicated to his faith which then hurt him in return still causes him pain, Yusuf sees. But then Nicolo smiles and Yusuf just… falls even more.

Love, between two men, is not natural, he's been taught. Love is between a man and a woman, or so he’s been told. That’s how it is in the Quran, that’s how it is in the Bible, Nicolo tells him. But he's fallen for Nicolo so fast and so deeply that nothing else but loving him makes sense. So how can such love be immoral?

The thing is they don't know when death will come for them. Might be tomorrow, or next week. Might be in a hundred or thousand years. Might never come for them. There is no one like them, as far as they know. So why waste it? Yusuf knows that his heart outweighs his head, that his love for Nicolo outweighs whatever they were both taught. He knows, or well, he's been told, love between two men is wrong, that it's immoral, that it's ungodly. But he also knows that his love for Nicolo is bigger than any sort of faith known to man.

At times, he just wants to lean in and kiss him. Sometimes the urge almost knocks him off the ground. Sometimes, it’s just bubbling, but whichever the case, it’s always present. Over the past five years, their enmity turned into an allyship, which then turned into a friendship. On Yusuf’s side, it’s gone further than that.

Right now, he knows he’s staring at Nicolo. He’s past being ashamed of it. He knows he loves this man, so deeply, so fiercely, but his heart is still at war with his upbringing. He knows he could leave everything behind just to be with Nicolo. He knows he would die for him, he would give up his immortality for him.

Five years is… both long and short. Long, because he had a friend who got married, had a family and died in those five years. Seemingly, he achieved everything. Five years is a long time when you’re mortal, when you’ve only got a set amount of years. But it’s short, too, because so far, they ‘died’ a handful of times and every time they have returned. And every time, the other was there, waiting.

“Yusuf?” Nicolo says quietly, dragging him out of his daydream.

Yusuf notices that they’re standing still, leaning over the basket on the table. Their upper bodies are touching as are their hips. They are so used to being in each other’s space, touching and reaching out to the other. It’s become a habit, a safe place. As much as they despised each other five years ago, now they can’t imagine going separate ways.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“I spoke to the old lady; she says her son wants a painting.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Yusuf says, but his heart is not completely in it. It should be, as the occasional paintings Yusuf sells are their main source of income.

“What’s wrong, habibi? ”

Yusuf blinks at Nicolo. For a second, he thinks he misheard him. He wants to ask him to repeat it, but he might deny it.

“Where’d you learn that?”

Nicolo gives him a shy smile. “The old lady. She was talking about her husband and I asked her to teach me some endearments. I almost went with ya amar, but you’re not the moon, you’re the Sun and everything around it.” Yusuf doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know he can say the thing he wants to the most, and anything else just seems empty. “Hey,” Nicolo bumps into him, “you know what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“Don’t,” Yusuf says with a small sigh, “don’t get my hopes up like that.”

“Yusuf.”

Nicolo puts his hand on Yusuf’s that’s resting on the table. His hand is soft and warm. Fits perfectly against his own. That tingling is still there, making Yusuf’s hand feel like it’s an extension of Nicolo’s.

“Has she told you what habibi means?”

“Yes.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Yusuf says. “Then tell me.”

“You are kind and patient. You’ve taught me your language, your culture. You’ve shown me how wrong the fight I’ve been told to fight is. You make me laugh like no one does, you care about me like no one ever has. I meant it, you’re not the moon, you’re the Sun. You keep me warm, keep me safe.” Nicolo tightens his hand around Yusuf. “I know you’ve waited for me and I’m sorry it’s taken so long.”

Yusuf knows Nicolo wants to say something else, but he doesn’t care because he’s already kissing him and Nicolo’s kissing him back with the same amount of fierceness. Right now, they are the last two people left standing on the planet and Yusuf reckons that come hell or high water, he will love Nicolo until they both stop breathing. Whenever that may be.

“I love you,” he whispers in Genoese and he knows all he needs to say.

Then it’s Nicolo kissing him, deeply with desire clear in his kiss. He reaches for his hand and leads him to the bed, while not breaking the kiss. Yusuf doesn’t know what to expect, but he doesn’t care, anyway. Being with Nicolo is easy, it’s self-explanatory. Kissing him is like that, too.

“I love you,” Nicolo says in Arabic, and kisses him again and again and again.

He was right, too. Nothing else but loving and kissing him makes sense. Now he knows that his head wasn’t playing with him. He has fallen for Nicolo, deeply and passionately. He doesn’t care if it’s wrong. How could he, when he loves him and Nicolo loves him back?

#the old guard #joe x nicky #nicky x joe #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genoa #immortal husbands #crugayders #mine

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gunkyengines · 4 years

Note

4, 7, and 9, for the s/i questions if you're still taking them!

Ohhhh my gods @jetsetspy I’m so sorry for answering this question so late ;-; My answers are under the cut!

4. Does your insert have a backstory? Tell us about it! How does their backstory, if any, define who they are? How does it reflect their relationships now? Their hopes and dreams?

Bellamy Amplexus – Final Fantasy XV SI

Bellamy doesn’t have much of a backstory just yet, but I do know this:

· Their family isn’t a huge part of their life, aside from a younger sibling, who, to this day, I have not yet named.

· They want a sense of belonging somewhere, and have a number of self-image complications (it’s not really a set of “issues” to them, because they’ve found comfort in their body and self over time, but they still have wishes about what they could be seen as—androgyny is a tough line to straddle).

· They hate the nickname “Bella”.

· Bells, as far as I’m concerned right now, finds their sense of belonging amongst the ‘Bros ever since they just sorta started… tagging along, I guess? It was just an act of good will from the prince and his guards and a bit of hitchhiking on Bells’ end that got them where they are now.

· They were originally a bit of a vagabond prior to meeting up with the guys. Hitchhiking, walking absurdly long distances, camping out often, all that jazz.

Junko Hisayo – Persona 5 SI

Junko is a character who I largely based off of my late-high school self for both self insertion and coping reasons, but a few things do set her apart from me. As in, she’s a pretty close approximation, but by no means is she a direct, direct copy of me.

She’s a student at Kosei Academy, simply due to the fact that I read on the wiki that it’s speculated to be a catholic school (I was brought up in the catholic education system, so, I could find some accuracy and likeness in that), and attended meetings at both the drama and art club there. She has bitter memories of the two clubs, as she was betrayed by the one major figure in both: her childhood friend Hideo Sunjaya. Since then, she’s taken to expressing her creative outlets in circles outside of her student life, and finds her passion in writing. At the time of Persona 5 canon, she’s set on becoming an editor. In the future canon, she does in fact achieve this goal. In this way Junko’s less of a model of who I was, and instead she’s what I hope to be.

She comes from a somewhat broken home, but has a strong relationship with her mother. Despite her current disconnect, Junko feels that she owes it to her parents that she has such a good understanding of her own identity, as they were supportive when she first came out as sapphic, and continued their support when she decided to be GNC and soon after came into her identity as a demigirl.

Elizabeth Beaufort – Red Dead Redemption 2 SI

Lizzie is a pretty lighthearted simulacrum of a more feminine version of me, translated loosely into the scope of the year 1899. I’m by no means a historian, but here’s Lizzie’s life.

Elizabeth Beaufort is a born and raised resident of the town of Valentine. Her mother is whatever the RDR2 universe’s equivalent of Quebecois French is, having moved to Saint Denis due to a family matter down there, and subsequently met her father. A Valentine resident himself, he beguiled her mother and convinced her to move to Valentine and live as the wife of a livestock owner (he comes from some blue blood ‘round those parts—as mentioned by the VDL in Chapter 2, the town is a goldmine of trade).

As a lady of relative privilege, life was… well, it was what a privileged life is. Sheltered, simple, and for the most part pretty damned easy. However, her naivete wasn’t something that her mother would stand to see Elizabeth keep, as she wanted a strong daughter who wouldn’t simply bend to the hand of tradition. Would I say that Lizzie would’ve most certainly rallied with those girls in Rhodes? YES. I’d rather die than portray any iteration of myself as complacent rather than progressive lmao. Elizabeth Beaufort flows in the vein of RDR2’s… I guess, progressive* writing? More** on that below, I guess???

*I don’t actually know how well it was received by everyone else, and honestly, I’m not even gonna try to speak on anyone else’s behalf but my own—I found that RDR2, despite some shortcomings, made itself a relatively hospitable environment for me as a white queer.

** Lizzie does struggle a lot with her internalized homophobia? Like… she had a lot of difficulty when she was younger coming to terms with the fact that she’s bisexual. This is less prevalent in her backstory considering it only ever surfaces post-canon. Yes, my SI and her FO came out to each other at random after being married to him for approximately 3 months. And it went fuckin’ great cos guess what!! Theyre both bi!! WLW/MLM solidarity!!! Don’t @ me.

Gillian Wright – Red Dead Redemption 2 SI

· Gilley was brought up amongst a gang of outlaws, and her being born a woman changed nothing about the things she was taught by said gunslingers. She left the group she once called family because of the leadership turning sour. From that point forward she went it alone, shifting in and out of her identity as Gilley Wright and her masculine persona (a pseudonym-turned-identity) Giles Kingsley, to keep herself straddling notoriety and anonymity.

· Gilley only started wearing her hair short because of an encounter in which her longer hair was used as a means to pull her back into harm’s way. She lopped it off shortly after out of the feeling that it was a necessity, but soon found that she preferred it that way.

· Thaddeus, her large draft horse, once pulled carts. She took him during a robbery so that she’d have an adequate mount for her getaway. The connection was instant between them.

Taeko Atou – Tokyo Ghoul OC

Taeko went by another name before her time in the 20th ward. She had another face, another life. But that was a self she had to leave far, far behind. Before “Taeko”, she was a reckless twentysomething ghoul living off of her father’s money, basking in the upper echelons of society, indulging in Scrapper shows and seeing humanity as nothing but an unprepared buffet. The danger ranking on her CCG profile demonstrated as much.

One night, however, her cushy life changed drastically. She went out drinking after a Scrapper show with one of her friends and decided to go hunting with her. Things were as usual, they stayed in their territory, but ended up getting apprehended by a group of Doves. During the getaway, her and her friend were separated, and she had no way of knowing whether her friend was alive. Drunk, desperate, and rather terrified, she decided to abandon all else and ripped her mask off to taunt the officers. They deserved to see her face, covered in gore and as ghoulish as they came! Nothing mattered to her at that point and she wanted to give them a scare…!

That is, until the next morning, when she recovered from her hangover and realized what she’d done. One of those Doves got a picture of her. In a panic, she called her father to ask for some sort of mercy money to clear the issue up. He’s frustrated with her constantly getting into increasingly worse trouble and tells her this: he’s going to pay for her to completely change her identity and her face so that she can move elsewhere, completely out of the way of harm. After that, he’d be cutting her off, leaving her with only the savings that she had prior to the cut-off. No more handouts.

This is when she became Taeko Atou, a pseudonym based off of her Scrapper show guest alias, “Miss AT”, and moved to the 20th ward. She has to adjust to average life a la Schitt’s Creek or Arrested Development.

7. What kind of clothing style do they like? What would they never be caught dead wearing? What’s likely in their closet right now?

Bellamy Amplexus – Final Fantasy XV SI

· Bells LOVES anything that’ll make them look cute and androgynous. They’re super partial to a femme prince aesthetic. Blouses and linens and vests and suspenders and a bunch of that cute shit. (Yes, this is my preferred fashion style and I wish I could look like that all the time.) They’re also into stuff like your average sundresses and such when it’s too hot for “princey” attire because hell yeah.

· They’d hate to wear… hm… short party dresses? Cocktail dresses n shit. (No shade to those tho theyre cute. Just not Bellamy’s style.)

Junko Hisayo – Persona 5 SI

· Junko’s super masc and butch in her presentation, binds her chest, does the simple graphic tee + jeans thing a lot. Think “Kanji Tatsumi but a lesbian”.

· She lowkey doesn’t like wearing overly feminine clothes, like, she does not vibe with dresses.

Elizabeth Beaufort – Red Dead Redemption 2 SI

· Lizzie is pretty standard when it comes to clothes: blouses and skirts, dresses, all just… really basic stuff. She likes simple and solid colours, maybe simple patterns. She’s also like… very cottagecore. Probably likes overalls if she ever wears ‘em?? I’m not a frickin’ historian and I’m not gonna google early 1900s clothes styles at this hour don’t @ me.

· This is literally just because I’m basic as all fuck and I like a skirt/blouse or sundress style outfit. I don’t wear it often but that’s my jazz y’know?

Gillian Wright – Red Dead Redemption 2 SI

· Gilley’s another one of my more boyish characters. She doesn’t deliberately go out of her way to look like a man unless she’s under the guise of her male persona Giles Kingsley. But let me tell you—she goes all out for those occasions, even electing to simulate stubble on her face with cosmetics. Think “cowboy drag king” and you’ll hit the mark.

· Other than that, she just wears whatever’s convenient and comfortable.

9. Their favorite foods? Colors? Activities? What do they enjoy in life? How do they express their joy for things they like?

As dumb as this sounds I completely burnt out after writing only 2 self insert likes/interests profiles, forgive me lol.

Bellamy Amplexus – Final Fantasy XV SI

· Favourite Food: Bells is indecisive, but they will gladly eat anything Ignis puts in front of them. They’re thoroughly convinced he uses magic in his cooking. (They’re only half joking about that—it’s so good!) If they were made to decide a top three, it’d likely be Garden Curry, Broiled King on a Stick, and Moogle Mousse with Kupoberry Sauce. Honorable mention being Gyashi Chips (yes, they like what’s effectively Eosian kale chips).

· Favourite Colours: ANYTHING PASTEL will win Bellamy over, along with any colour considered light and airy. White, silver, pale green, soft gold, baby blue, lavender, and also whatever the sky has going on at any given time of the day—they’re an aesthetic little shit.

· Favourite Activities: Travelling, leisure shopping when funds allow it (if given the means, Bellamy will 100% engage in excessive retail therapy, no joke), swimming, loving their friends, talking about books and music, gardening, and (I know this sounds vain but bear with me) preening. Yes, they’d be a vlogger in another life. Don’t @ me

· Bells loves to talk in excess about what they like, and on occasion, when words fail, they tend to express it through squealing, jumping, etc. If someone points out how passionate Bells is about these things, they’ll end up flustered and ask the person if they could continue. I guess you could say Bellamy stims? I’m not diagnosed with anything, so take this with a grain of salt, but I do have stimming habits.

Junko Hisayo – Persona 5 SI

· Favourite Food: Junko’s pretty partial to miso soup. It’s one of her weaknesses. Total comfort food. (Bro I fuckin’ love miso soup.) As well as baked goods like cupcakes.

· Favourite Colours: Red, black, silver, pink, blue, purple.

· Favourite Activities: drawing (sketches, scribbles, doodles, colouring, etc., singing, baking/cooking, writing, and she learned to love gardening after getting close to Haru.

· Junko tends to show her happiness through verbal and artistic expression, she’s also the type that tends to crack jokes (mostly shitty puns followed up by finger guns).

Again, thank you so much for asking, thank you so much for asking! QwQ Asks are still open, everyone.

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castielsangel-blade · 5 years

Text

Part One: Just Shipping Today

“So she hit you and all that that’s on your face?” Dean asked the pretty, blue-eyed postal worker.

“Yes,” the postal worker replied. “It seemed she didn’t like me confronting her about her affair.” The man’s face was filled with a few scratches and a bruise on the cheek. Dean winced just looking at them.

“That’s a rough break. Did you kick her out?” Dean asked, leaning his hip against the counter as he looked at his receipt. He tried not making eye contact with a married man for too long or he could give him the wrong idea. They were both well aware of the fact that they were each in a relationship, but there’s no doubt that they would flirt. At least, there seemed to be a tension between the two that neither addressed. Dean could be wrong, but the look in the other man’s eyes was… tantalizing. Like, he wanted Dean and wanted Dean to know that he did. But Dean didn’t want to mention it out of fear that he was wrong; he didn’t want to lose whatever this was that they had.

“She should be getting her things today and gone by the time I get home,” the worker responded. Dean winced.

“You trust her not to ruin your things while you’re not there?”

A shrug. “At least I would know who did it. Oh, did you have another package come in? What record is it this time?” The man was a fan of smirking at Dean, and definitely not in a creepy way. In a ‘I love teasing you and I know you’re okay with it’ way.

Dean laughed. “Nope. Nothing today. Just shipping. There should be one coming soon. Wanna unbox it with me again? It’ll be a surprise since I’m not sure which one it’ll be,” Dean asked. The worker nodded his head just as someone came into the office, the bell above the door ringing. Dean gave him an apologetic smile. “I better get out of your hair. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Have a good day. I look forward to seeing what record it is,” the man said as Dean was walking away. Dean turned and gave him a smile, knowing exactly what turning back signaled. The man behind the counter was still looking at him, his own eyes holding a certain glint. Dean felt a little sad about the marks on the guy’s face and neck, but he was thankful that his wife was out of the house. Dean left the post office and sat in his truck for a bit; his heart was always pounding after a meeting with that postal worker. This simple crush had turned into something more recently.

Dean sold things online and now that he had a major crush on this guy, he started posting up even more and slightly lowering the prices to sell as fast as he could. He would, in return, buy records online frequently, which is why he was selling in the first place, so it worked out all in all. He was thankful for his need to collect records because it eventually led to the postal worker asking him how many records he was going to buy. That was when Dean and him became pretty good friends. He knew a lot of things about that guy now. All but his name. Dean always forgot to ask. Or maybe he just didn’t want to mess with what they had.

He pulled out his phone and updated the tracking number so both he and the buyer could track where the package is. Call Dean paranoid, but he couldn’t just send the package, give the tracking number and leave it alone. He had to follow it to. Even though he does put on his policies that he isn’t responsible after shipping, he’d still feel guilty. Which is why last month, when he sent off a package, and it was delivered, he noticed that it was in a completely different state. He made calls to the postal services and filled out a report. Eventually, it made it to where it needed to be; thankfully the buyer was super nice and understanding.

After putting the tracking number in the system to alert the buyer, he went onto safari and checked on the tracking of his own packages. Two of them seemed to be arriving in a couple days. He was hoping at least one of them would get there early so he could see the postal worker, but he also didn’t want to seem like he was going in there way too much. It was bad enough he was going in there about two times a week already. He didn’t want the guy to think he was going in there just for him or something.

He gently tossed his phone down on the passenger seat and started his vehicle. The drive home was short since it was a small town to begin with. In fact, he didn’t even need his truck to actually drive to the post office. He could walk there in ten minutes, easily, but he enjoyed driving.

He was driving his brother’s truck while his car was in the shop. Sam told him he was welcome to use it since he biked everywhere anyways. Dean hated exercise, but he managed to stay in shape by all the yard work he did since he was a landscaper, and Dean really enjoyed his job and the pay, so he’s gonna be doing that job until he physically can’t anymore. For a moment, he really thought about becoming a mechanic since his father and surrogate uncle did that, but it turns out that he accidentally breaks more things in a car than he fixes. It’s why he was so apprehensive about the landscaping job, but it turned out to be his calling. He was fine with that. He didn’t need to follow in the family footsteps just to please anyone, which is something his dad first told him years ago.

Later that night, while Sammy was out on a date, Dean fantasized about the postal worker. He blushed at the thought of getting another smile from him and Dean couldn’t help but feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on some celebrity... He hated it.

He talked on the phone with his girlfriend for about an hour, where she asked if he’d gotten her package in the mail to which he replied that he hadn’t, before hanging up. He really enjoyed talking to her, but how could he tell her that he didn’t want to be in a relationship anymore? She’d moved off to go to college and he really didn’t want to be that guy, but he couldn’t help his feelings. He could handle the distance, that wasn’t it, it was just feeling her drift and his newfound feelings for the dude working at the post office. He couldn’t be in a relationship if he’s feelings weren’t completely and fully with them.

Despite all that, he felt her slipping away a little. She talked more and more about this other guy, and while Dean wasn’t a jealous guy, he knew the signs of developing feelings. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew it wouldn’t be long until they either just stopped talking or one of them just straight up said that they wanted to break up. Dean wasn’t such a huge confrontational guy when it came to his feelings.

#destiel fic rec #shameless promoting #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #Post Office Series

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 5 years

Text

Outside the Rain - Harry Styles Series (Part 3)

Part 2

Two weeks had gone by since the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame Ceremony. You were now back in Los Angeles, getting back in the studio, while Harry was back in London. You two had spoken off and on ever since you both when your separate ways. The more you you two got to know one another, the more you were starting to develop feelings for him.

But you would never admit that to anyone just yet. You were currently sat at the piano working on a new song. Your band was officially back together and working in the studio to record your album. You hadn’t told anyone yet, not even your families. The only ones who knew were a few people at the label, your managers, and of course, the four of you.

Being back in the studio working on songs for the band felt both a little weird, but also like home. You wondered how everyone would react to the band making music together again. It would go one of two ways, either really, really well, or really, really badly.

You had the basic melody written down and now you were just working on the lyrics. The basis of the song was being with someone even though you both knew it wasn’t right, but you couldn’t help it because there was just something about that person that kept making you stay.

You were staring at the jumbled mess of lyrics on the page of your journal, when your phone starting ringing. It was a facetime from Harry. Part of you wanted to press the accept button as soon as you could, but another part of you hesitated. You didn’t want to be that girl, the girl who is always seeming like she’s waiting by the phone for the other person to call her. So, you ended up not answering and going back to working on your song.

About an hour later, Rem walked in, “Hey girl, how’s it going?”

“It’s uh... going,” you laughed. “I’ve got the chorus and a few lines here and there, but it’s nowhere near finished.”

“Well, good thing I showed up when I did,” she smirked.

“So, who’s the guy?” She asked after twenty minutes and shooting out different lyrics.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“You keep checking your phone, something you hardly do during a writing session, and the only time you do that is when there’s a new guy or something going on with your family,” she said.

You sighed closing your journal and putting it on top of the piano.

“I’m right aren’t I?” She smirked. “Is it the guy Daisy was talking about? Harry Styles right?”

You didn’t answer, but your cheeks gave it away.

“Did you two hook up in NYC?” She gasped.

“What? No,” you said. “It’s not like that. We spent some time together, but there was no hooking up whatsoever.”

“Did you want too?” She smirked.

“I’m not answering that,” you said.

“You know you really need to work on this whole not answering thing, which then gives away what the real answer is,” she said.

“So, I’ve been told,” you rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, so is there something going on between the two of you?” She asked putting her hand under her chin.

“We’re talking, yeah, but there’s nothing else going on,” you said.

“But you want there to be,” she stated.

You sighed, “Even if I did, which I don’t by the way, I don’t have time for a relationship. Especially one that would be long distance literally all the time. And we have an album to be working on and there’s just literally no time for me to have a relationship.”

“That’s why you make time,” she said. “Listen I’ve known you my whole life and there’s only been two things on the top priority list in your life. Your family and your music. At some point you need to put love at the top too.”

“You act like I’ve never been in love before,” you rolled your eyes.

“The last person you were in love with was Joe. That was what? Ten years ago and we were fucking teenagers, Y/N. Being in love then and being in love now, are two totally different feelings. So, yeah, in way you’ve never been truly been in love,” she said.

You shook your head.

“Look, you’re my best friend and I love you. I see the way your face lights up whenever you talk about him. There’s something there and you know it, but you’re keeping yourself from going there. Stop holding yourself back because all you’re going to do is miss out on something that could change your life,” she said.

“Who would have thought getting married would turn you into a relationship expert,” you joked.

“Just call me Dr. Ruth,” she smirked.

“She’s like a sexpert,” you laughed.

“Hey, I’m that too,” she said.

“Let’s just get back to the song,” you laughed.

Harry wasn’t sure what was going on between the two of you, or if there was even anything going on at all. He knew how he felt about you or at least how you was beginning to feel about you. However, he had no fucking idea where you and your feelings stood.

Either way, he really enjoyed talking to you and the time he spent with you in New York. He knew you were in LA currently, and he was debating on making a trip out that way. But he didn’t want to make it seem like he was going just to see you, even if that was the main reason, so he was looking into scheduling some meetings and getting some studio time in.

His mother kept asking him about you and if he had thought about opening his heart up to you. Again, he told her it was still too soon to determine that, but deep down Harry just didn't want to tell the truth because he was afraid if he did, he would look stupid if you didn’t feel the same way.

“You’re leaving again?” Nick asked as he and Harry sat for dinner at a restaurant in London. “You just got back, it seems.”

“Only for a few days,” Harry said. “I have some meetings and studio time set up in LA.”

“Some of those meetings wouldn’t be with a certain, gorgeous girl you were with back in NYC, would it?” He smirked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry said sipping his drink.

“There’s literally photographic evidence that says otherwise,” he said. “Should I pull it up?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “She may be one of the reasons, but it’s honestly a work trip, mate. I may only see her like once.”

“Yeah, sure,” Nick said. “So, what’s going on with you two anyway.”

“Nothing... at least nothing romantically,” he said taking a bite of food. “We’re friends. She’s cool and I like talking to her,” he shrugged.

“There’s something more, you don’t just fly thousands of fucking miles for a friend,” Nick said.

“Just because no one has done that for you doesn’t mean it no one does it,” Harry smirked.

“Oh, fuck off,” Nick laughed.

A couple of days had passed and since you had gotten quite a few songs written, you decided to take a day off and just relax and do a few things for yourself. However, what you weren’t counting on was getting a text from Harry saying he was coming to LA for work and wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with him one day during his stay.

Even though you weren’t sure about how you were feeling about him or where you wanted whatever it was with him to go, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see him, especially not knowing when the next time that could be. So, you invited him to come hang out at your house, and you said you’d make dinner.

Which is what you were currently doing. There was still like an hour or so before he was set to arrive, so you turned some music on and started finishing everything up. You were just wearing some jeans and old band t-shirt that was your dad’s from a long time ago. You were debating on if you should “dress up” a little bit more, but you didn’t want him to think you thought it was like a date.

Not that you didn’t want it to be a date, but you also didn’t really want it to be a date either. It was complicated, to be honest. Anyway, you were chopping up the tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, etc for the tacos you were making. You didn’t want to make something super fancy besides who didn’t like tacos. Although, looking at the amount of food you were cooking, you may have went a little too far.

But then again, you could easily eat four tacos yourself, so who were you kidding.

It was nearing the time Harry would be arriving to your place when one of your favorite Fleetwood Mac song’s came over the speakers. Since you were mostly finished with the food, you took the opportunity to have a little dance session in your kitchen.

Harry pulled up to the address you had sent him and quickly fell in love with your house. It was the perfect mix of old and new sitting perfectly in the hills with what he could tell was a breathtaking view of Hollywood. He parked his car and unsurely found his way to what he believed was the front door. The closer he got to the house, he could hear the familiar sound of ‘Miranda’ by Fleetwood Mac playing.

Since the house was mostly glass windows, he could see you in the kitchen. You were wearing a simple outfit, your hair was up in a messy bun on top of you hair. You were barefoot singing into a wooden spoon as you danced around the kitchen. Part of him knew he should ring the doorbell and alert you that he was here, but the bigger part of him wanted to watch you.

It was moments like that where he felt like he could see the real you. Who you were away from the stage and other people. Not that he didn’t think you weren’t authentic anywhere else or that you played a part when it came to being on stage, but he knew from experience that even if you were your most authentic self up on stage and in front of your fans, there was still a little bit that everyone kept hidden away.

Something that no one really knew about because everyone needs something that’s just theirs to know. His smile grew even bigger when he saw you playing air guitar towards the end of the song. As the song started fading out, he quickly darted away from the door and counted to ten before heading back to actually knock on the door.

That way he could save himself the embarrassment of getting caught staring at you and potentially save you from being embarrassed that he saw you. He knock on the door and you looked straight at him. You smiled wiping your hands on a towel, while discreetly dabbing your forehead and making your way over to the door.

You unlocked it and opened it up, “Hey, did you find it okay?”

“I did, yeah, thank god for GPS,” he joked.

You laughed, “True, but sometimes people miss the turn anyway.”

“Do you know that from experience?” He raised an eyebrow.

You blushed, “Yes! My first week after I moved it, I literally passed my own house at least four times.”

He laughed, “I brought us some wine... is that okay? I figured it was the least I could do for you making dinner. Oh and I got ice cream. I wasn’t sure which flavor was your favorite, so I got a few different ones,” he said blood rushing to his cheeks.

You smiled, “Well aren’t you efficient. Thank you,” you said taking the bag and putting the ice cream in the freezer. “And for the record, it’s Cookies ‘N Cream, so good job.”

He leaned against the island in the kitchen, looking down at the floor hiding his smile.

“So, uh, everything is pretty much done and ready to eat, but I’m warming up the taco shells, which takes about five minutes. I could show you around the house if you want?” You asked.

“That sounds perfect,” he nodded.

You smiled, “Well, this is this kitchen,” you laughed turning on your inner Vanna White.

You take him through each room of the house. He stopped when he saw a picture of you when you were younger, on stage next to Stevie.

“Wow,” he said picking up the photo. “Is that you?”

“Yep, I was three,” you said. “Actually, do you know the reason why we performed Edge of Seventeen together?”

He looked over at you, “Other than it being a fucking amazing song, no? I sense there’s a story there?”

“There is and it starts with that night,” you said pointing to the photo. “Short version, I was backstage with my Mom at the show. Stevie started performing that song and I just felt the needed to go out there. So, I walked past literally every adult that was backstage and walked out to her. I didn't fully know the words, but I danced my little heart out. Ever since then whenever I was on tour with her, we would perform that song together.”

“That’s really fucking cool,” he smiled.

“Yeah, it is,” you smiled.

He smiled back at you, putting the photo back onto the table. “Wait a minute? Is that made out of drumsticks?” He asked walking over to the huge wall of your last name hanging up.

“And not just any drumsticks. Each of those are from a show my dad played. That was sort of our thing. He would give me one drumstick from each and every show. Even the ones from before I was born,” you smiled. “For years, I just had the packed it away, but then when I moved I got this idea had my friend make it. It turned out better than what I thought it. The only thing that sucks is now I have even more drumsticks since after I had that made.”

The timer in the kitchen went off, “Oh, I better go grab those before they burn.”

You went into the kitchen, while Harry stayed in the room, looking around. At times, he felt like he stepped back in time with all of the cool memorabilia you had, just in that one room. It was the one with the best view and he could tell it was your music room.

There were guitars and a piano, journals stacked everywhere, a record player, and what looked like the comfiest future he had ever seen. After a few minutes, he made his way back to the kitchen.

“Your house is bloody amazing,” he said. “And the view is one of the best I’ve seen.”

You smiled, “Yeah, I love it. The minute I pulled up in the driveway, I fell in love. When I first moved in, it had been renovated a lot and new furniture and whatnot had been in, but I felt like the house had lost some of it’s history, you know? That the person who redone everything was trying to make it look too modern, so I donated all the furniture that was here and bought my own stuff. I couldn’t exactly change the structure of the house, so I made sure everything inside of it brought it back.”

“What year was it built?” He asked.

“1960,” you said putting everything on plates. “Would you mind carrying these out to the patio? I figured we could sit out there and enjoy the sunset.”

“I’d love to,” he smiled taking them outside.

You grabbed some wine glasses and poured the wine Harry had brought. He came back for the rest of the plates and you both headed outside.

“I really hope you like tacos,” you said sitting down. “If not, I have got take out menus out the wazoo we can order.”

“I love tacos, actually,” he smiled.

“Good to know,” you smiled.

“Now, I really don’t want to be that person,” Harry said after a few bites of food. “But seeing all the really awesome shit in your music, what was it like growing up being surrounded by music and touring, and Stevie Fucking Nicks?”

You laughed wiping your mouth, “I want to say it was like any other person’s childhood, but I know that’s completely bullshit. I mean, my first steps were taking on a stage in Chicago during my dad’s rehearsals. My first word, I’m pretty sure was guitar, of course it didn’t really sound like guitar, it was more of like... uh.. geeeta. My parents didn’t know what the hell I was saying for days, but finally I must have pointed to a guitar and they finally knew what I was talking about.”

“So, I mean yeah I definitely had some different experiences and traveled on the road most of my life, but my parents still were parents, you know. I still got grounded and in trouble for shit, I still had chores they just usually involved cleaning up a tour bus or a hotel room. And as far as being grounded, it was mean not being able to go to a concert or an award show. Then times we were at home, it was just like any other family I would imagine. We did errands, we had family dinners. I had my own room, friends... etc.” You shrugged.

“Do you ever feel like you missed on anything?” He asked sipping his wine.

“Sometimes I do,” you nodded. “I didn’t go really go to a proper school. I was homeschooled with the other band members kids. I didn’t have a prom or a graduation. But I did have some pretty other awesome experiences that most kids or even adults never get to have. And actually, a lot of people don’t know this, but when I turned thirteen, my parents asked me if I wanted to stay home and go to a real school and have the high school experience. My father, of course, was still touring and making music with people, but the fact that they offered me this chance, was pretty cool of them.”

“What did you decide?” Harry asked.

“I thought about it. I mean, I really thought about it. I even toured some schools back home and met some of the students there. Hell, I even asked some of the girls that lived next door that I’d been friends with, what they thought I should do,” you said.

“And?” Harry asked.

“We formed Y/Band’s/Name,” you laughed. “And the rest is history.”

“Wow,” Harry said. “So, you never went a real school, like at all?”

“Not for longer than a day,” you said. “And sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I had decided to go and the only thing I could think of that would different, is I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have this amazing opportunity to do what I love. I mean, maybe, I could have made it later in life, but opportunities in the music industry don’t come around all that often. I knew that growing up in it.”

‘Yeah, but with the connections with your dad and Stevie, and the fact that you’re really talented, I’m sure it would have came around,” he said.

“But see that’s the thing, I knew people would see it that way and honestly, it doesn’t matter how talented you are, people will always assume that you got where you are because of who you know. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want my father or Stevie calling record labels or managers. So, that’s why when the girls I decided on forming the band, we didn’t include my last name on anything. I wanted to know I made it because I was good enough, not just because I knew the right people,” you said.

“That’s commendable,” he nodded. “And honestly, I’m sort of the same way. A lot of people shit on the fact that One Direction came from a TV show and the fact that we didn’t even place, on said TV Show. But we still worked our asses off and kept trying to prove to people that we were talented and it wasn’t just because we were five teenage boys, who were only loved by teenage girls because we’re hot. Because you know apparently, their opinions aren’t valid or they couldn't possibly like anyone for the music. But anyway, I felt like the entire time we were together, we just kept having to prove of ourselves, so that’s why when I started working on my solo record, I promised myself that was I was making the record I wanted. I was making the record for myself and that I wasn’t trying to prove anyone wrong. Because at the end of the day, everyone is entitled to their own opinions, and as long as I had an album and made music I loved, none of the other shit mattered.”

“And that’s what makes you a musician, an artist,” you smiled. “When it’s more about the music and not about the fame or the money. When pouring your heart and soul into a song is more important than making something just so it will place on the charts. I mean yeah, it’s really a fucking amazing feeling when a song or album charts or does well, but music is what I fell in love, not all the other shit.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he smiled.

The rest of the night, Harry and you just... talked. Literally talked about different things well into the late hours. It had been so long since you had a conversation that lasted hours. There was no awkward silence. You didn’t cave and say let’s watch a movie and he didn’t leave shortly after dinner.

After he left that night, you could feel it. If you weren’t sure about it before, you definitely felt it now. You caught feelings. You wouldn’t say you were in love with the boy or anything, but there was something there. You did a quick clean up of the kitchen before heading bed.

The next morning you woke up with a text from Harry.

I really enjoyed last night. Maybe tomorrow night, I could cook you dinner?

The smile on your face was evidence enough that you really, really wanted to take him up on his offer. However, you weren’t sure if you were ready to really pursue any sort of relationship other than a friendship from him.

Hmm. Maybe. I’ll let you know. ;)

If it’s my cooking you’re worried about, don’t be. I’ve been told a time or two that I’m a wonderful chef.

Making Mac and cheese out a box doesn’t count.

Fine, if you don’t believe me, then why don’t you go ahead and say yes to my invitation and see for yourself?

Ehhh... we’ll see.

Harry groaned with a smirking as he read your text. It was ridiculous that he was already wanting to see you again, when it’s only been maybe give or take eight hours. There was just something about you, talking with you, that felt right. It was almost like you two were the same person, yet so different as well.

There were so many similarities when it came to certain things. It was like for the first time in a while, if every, he felt like there was someone who really understood where he was coming from and how he felt about certain things. Watching as you spoke about your life and how music was everything to you, Harry could feel himself falling for you and your smile.

God, he had it bad. He really needed to chill the fuck out before he hit obsessed level. Especially since he had no clue as to how you were feeling. To be honest, he really needed to lay it out on the open, so that he knew, however, he didn’t want to come across as that guy who expected the girl to fall for him just because they were hanging out.

Anyway, he needed to get out of bed, head to the gym and then go to his meetings he had set up for the day. Hopefully all of that would keep his mind off of you, at least for the time being.

You slithered out of bed, changed into your gym clothes, and went down to the kitchen. You poured water into your reusable water bottle and grabbed a banana before heading out the door. Even though it wasn’t super early, you were instantly regretting scheduling a Soul Cycle class that day. You ate your banana while you sat in traffic on your way to the gym.

Your music was turned up as loud as you could stand it, yet your mind still went back to Harry and his invitation. You should probably say yes for two reasons, one because you really, really wanted to go, and two because he was only in LA for a short time and who were you kidding, you hoped you got to see him as often as you before he went back to London.

But then again, you didn’t want to seem desperate especially if he didn’t have any feelings for you whatsoever. And you also didn’t want just be a hook up for him, not that he really seemed like that type of guy, but he was still a guy. When you finally arrived, you parked your car and headed into the studio. You got your locker, changed your shoes, and headed into the room.

After getting to your bike in the back row, you clipped your shoes and started warming up. Just when the class was about to start, the person next to you finally decided to show up and as soon as you saw the person, you felt a flutter in your stomach and a blush on your cheeks.

“What? Could handle my maybe to dinner tomorrow, so you’re stalking me until I say yes?” You smirked.

Harry looked over and his eyes widen as a smile lit up his face, “To be fair, I had no clue you’d be here or that you even do Soul Cycle.”

“Doesn’t everyone in LA?” you joked. “And honestly, I don’t do it that often. Only when I need a change of scenery.”

He laughed clipping in to the bike next to you, “I’m not going to distract you, am I?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, “Now, why would you distract me?” You smirked.

When class was over, both of you were dripping with sweat and quite frankly you wished he wasn’t seeing you like this. However, knowing he always was a hot ass mess, helped a bit. He was waiting for you outside in the lobby after you were finished in the locker room.

“Where did you park?” Harry asked.

“Oh, in garage. Level three, I think,” you said.

He nodded, “Mind if I walk you to your car?”

“I don’t mind,” you smiled pulling you back up over your shoulder.

“So, are you going to be back in the studio today?” He asked.

“I am actually,” you nodded. “I’m heading there now after I grab some lunch. You?”

“I have a few meetings today and then dinner with friends tonight,” he said.

“Are you cooking for them?” You smirked.

“Nah,” he said. “I’m saving my cooking talents for someone special,” he smirked. “So, are you saying yes yet?”

“Not quite yet, Styles,” you smirked. “But I’m not saying no, either. I’m going to keep you on your toes for a bit longer.”

“Well, don’t wait too long or I might just offer up cooking for someone else,” he smirked.

“As if you could replace me,” you joked.

“I mean, yeah, I’ll admit the company would be subpar compared to you,” he said.

“This is me,” you said pointing to your car. “Have fun at your meetings and with your friends. Don’t miss me too much,” you winked before climbing in.

Harry laughed, shaking his head as he waved bye to you.

Yep, he was in trouble when it came to you.

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Outside the Rain

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edward-richtofen-queen · 5 years

Text

Lost Girl's Lullaby ★Chapter Two★

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Fandom: Dead by Daylight (Hallowed Blight Event)

Character(s): All Killers (Focused on Blight Cosmetics), All Survivors (Focused on Blight Cosmetics), Female!Reader, Vigo (Mentioned), Benedict Baker (Mentioned)

Relationship(s): All Killers/Reader (Friends), All Survivors/Reader (Acquaintances), Phillip Ojomo | The Wraith/Reader

Overview: It had been months since you'd arrived in the place you had inevitably been placed in—The Fog as it was named. You understood the basis of how to survive and escape, but you were drastically different than the others—you sympathized with the people and creatures that were hurting you and your so called friends; You remembered vividly your first day of being in the realm. What will you do when The Blight appears and takes over your little world? Which side will you end up on—Killers or Survivors?

Warning(s) for this Chapter: Sympathy for Killers

Chapter Song Inspiration: Phantom of the Opera—Prague Cello Quartet

Notes: Welcome back! This chapter was highly requested after the first one! It was extremely fun to write and took a long while to create. There will be some implied ships—mostly killers/killers and survivors/survivors (and maybe some killer/survivor)—so if you don't like them being together, please ignore them (It's not really important to the story, but I like the interactions they will make in the future). Also important—the killers and survivors won't be able to use each other's perks, they're stuck with their own and the "free" ones. Maybe in the future I'll let them use each other's? Anyway, thank you so much for the love and support and I hope you enjoy! Journal Entries from the DBD Wiki!

Dedications: @daylightbydead, @insearchofnewdreams, @irageneve and @ameliafireheart!

Taglist: N/A

✼⋅•⋅•⋅⊱•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•∙∘❆༓❆∘∙•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⊰⋅•⋅•⋅✼

Killer Campfire—The Fog

"Well, it does seem we have another survivor on our hands, don't we?" The smooth and deep voice from the large man in front of you made you shiver—you were in some trouble, weren't you? Your mouth had sealed itself shut, not saying a word as you cowered under his unnerving gaze. The other killers, made up of creatures and humans alike, seemed just as silent as a thick blanket of tension was placed over the camp. Behind you, The Wraith placed his hands comfortingly on your shoulders, his mere familiar presence a warming comfort.

"Since no one seems to want to speak—or some of you who refuse or are unable to—I will introduce myself and yourselves. It seems you've already met Phillip, The Wraith," He gestures an open hand to the man behind you as he makes a soft purr noise from his throat. "I am Evan Macmillan, known as The Trapper in trials. The large woman at the start of the row is Anna—The Huntress." The woman known as Anna wears a beautifully crafted bunny mask aged and weathered, a large axe resting in her hands as hatchets dangled at her waist. She only nods her head, a tune vibrating inside her throat as she hummed.

Several minutes later, you had introduced to everyone as you stayed silent and acknowledged them as they did you. Only a couple seemed to really speak—like Herman Carter; The Doctor along with Freddy Krueger; The Nightmare. Oddly enough, for killers meeting you for the first time they didn't seem as unwelcoming as the survivors were. Everyone seemed to make conversation as normal as Phillip picked you up and sat down, having you extremely close to make sure no rouge killer would try to kill you. Sally, the woman dressed in all white from head to toe, floated over to the log you were seated on. "Phillip's taken quite the interest in you, hasn't he?" She speaks softly and sweetly to you as you feel Phillip stir behind you.

"He's very sweet," You finally speak, his lips pressed to your forehead again. "Well, I'm here to fill you in for what Evan missed out on," Sally speaks, fixing her gown as she sits properly on the log. "You will encounter us each at least once this week. Depending on who you go against, they'll try and go easy on you so you can learn what they do. Once you fully develop your potential and perks, we'll treat you like any other survivor in trials but treat you normally outside of them," Sally's sweet voice explains in an almost professional voice as you nod.

"The Entity has taken an interest in you as well, she's letting you see us out of trials—Anyway, she dropped off a gift for you," Sally hums, a frail journal in her hands as she hands it over. It looks extremely old, dust painting the top and the pages ripped and yellowed brown. Opening the journal, you skimmed through the pages to see beautifully written cursive aged into its pages. Some of the pages didn't have dates on them, but one section of the journal was stuffed to the brim with paper on top of its entry. "Do you happen to know what day it is, Miss Smithson?" You ask politely as she nods. "It's October 12th, I believe—may I ask why you ask?"

You nod as your fingers brush over the words October 19th on the top of the page. "Just seeing if these dates line up." She leans over to look at the page and is confused under her pillow case. The date she can read, but the actual entry itself was definitely not in any type of language she'd ever read but she internally shrugs. You yelp as Phillip picks you up suddenly, carrying you like a bride as Sally gave a soft giggle. "It seems like it's time for you to go back to your camp. Trials start up too soon it seems. Please come back to visit sometime, will you?"

Carrying you back into the woods, the welcoming chill of the thick fog made the atmosphere oddly comforting. The loud chatter of survivors in the distance made Phillip stop and set you down, his hands grazing your own as he leaves a goodbye kiss to your knuckles. You blush as you lean to kiss his cheek in the same manner with a large, goofy smile on your face. He turns and wails his bell as he disappears into the darkness, you finding Claudette among the crowd to sit next to.

★。＼｜／。★

"I think Phillip's got himself a new obsession."

"It seems more like an infatuation than an obsession—he isn't a obsessive killer, you know."

"You know what I mean, Herman."

"Don't sass me, Evan."

★。＼｜／。★

The cool wisps of fog slid from your form as you arrive in your second trial that day, this place flourishing in dead corn stalks and another large decrepit home. A shack sat eerily in the corner of the the realm as very large unmoving tractors sitting parallel across from each other. The sound of a whirring chainsaw made you click to the only two people who wielded them back at the campfire—The Hillbilly or The Cannibal. Moving amongst the thick stalks, the sound of a chainsaw made you jump to the side as The Hillbilly ran (more like flew) past you. He had no heartbeat for some reason as a generator finished in the direction he was running to. Maybe that was one of his perks Sally was speaking of?

You crept to an opening in the field to find Claudette working on a generator as you whispered to her to let your presence be known. Leaning to work on the generator with her, another male (Dwight as you remembered) came to work with you as well. He seemed nervous and paranoid twenty-four seven, but one of his perks seemed to help the generator proceed a little faster than before. He tries conversation, which you oblige to as you try to get to know him. The sound of a distant chainsaw made you shiver, a bad feeling boiling in your gut. "We've got to move—!" You yelp as you push Dwight from the Generator as The Hillbilly practically barrels to hit the large piece of machinery.

Scurrying away, your feet hit the ground hard as you ran. Turning around, the speeding figure hit your back as pain spread throughout your back while you let out a pain as you tumbled to the ground. The Hillbilly gave a pained whine as he lowered his chainsaw, patting your head in apology. Leaving you on the floor, he shook his head in apology once more as he revved his chainsaw and ran away from you. Claudette was by your side a minute later, a med kit snug in her grasp. Popping open the red container, she started by rubbing a disinfectant over your wounds. "I didn't know he'd come after you," She spoke softly, wrapping your wounds tightly as you hiss in pain.

"I have—Ow! To get used to this pain if I plan—Oww! On surviving," You speak through locked teeth. Claudette hums in response as your able to stand once again, your wounds had magically disappeared and you felt new again. "Trust me, the hooks are much worse," She warns as you follow behind her quickly. She then explains the do's and do not's of going against the killer. "You know a lot about him, Claudette—I don't know whenever to take that as a good thing or a bad thing," You coo teasingly as she blushes.

"He's just a kind person at heart, even if he looks drastically different from us—he's still a human being," Claudette speaks, her voice having an undertone of sorrow and pity. Your hand finds her shoulder as you give her a smile. "He deserves respect regardless of his appearance—very well said, Claudette," You praise, her face churning in happiness. The trial didn't last that much longer after that, Nea being Memento Mori'd because she lingered too long in the trial after the gates were open and everyone being hooked at least once.

Being enveloped in the darkness as you ran from the exit gates, you were dropped into the killer camp once again. There were less killers than before, most likely in trials as you has been moments ago. Herman Carter sat in a proper chair—which was odd considering the fact of it being a campsite. His white irises caught yours as the tight mouth guards came loose to fall to the sides of his face. Curious of the mysterious man, you crept to him as he slipped a pair of slightly cracked reading glasses to his nose.

"Little minx, it's been a short while. How was your trial? Get hooked for the first time?" His voice struck bells of whiskey and honey as he spoke, groveling at each word that slipped from his chocolate lips. You shrug at his first question and nod to his second, the journal still hooked to your hip. A smile played on his lips as he examined you and psychologically analyzed you—you were different, he figured. The Entity was picky with her choices in survivors and killers, and the fact that a survivor was so able to mingle with the killers after trials if they willed it was fascinating.

"What make you different?" He asks, his finger under your chin as you closed your eyes. You trusted him by will and heart, even though your mind was sending you different signals. To follow your heart or to follow your brain? Shaking your head to yourself, you settle on a log not too far from Bubba (his nickname) as he polishes his chainsaw. You decided to crack open the journal and begin to read, fingers following the words as you looked over them.

❝19 October - The Night

It is impossible to describe the horrifying scenes I have witnessed... death and misery, in every shape of terror, rule this place. I can no longer recall how I have come to this place. All I remember is the opaque, milky fumes of opium in the murky den hazing a sweet, welcoming abyss. I awoke to dreadful screams in this endless night, at the feet an old tree that leaked foul-smelling fluids. I know not how to reach those poor souls, nor do I want to. Keeping a record is all I can do to make sense of it.❞

Closing the journal, hands wrapped around your eyes as you stiffened. The familiar purr of Phillip eased your still frame. Sitting down next to you, you lay your head against his shoulder as you ease to sleep. When you awoke in your dream, your world was black—pitch black but enough to make sure it wasn't too dark, more like a grayish black than midnight. A voice called out to you in the darkness, it's voice layered in thick whispers.

Hello, Little Lamb

#dead by daylight fanfic #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight wraith #dead by daylight #phillip ojomo x reader #lost girls lullaby series #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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saltwaffle · 6 years

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For the Writing prompt meme, 76 & 63 or 55 & 49 with any ship ( preferably courtship )

i am doing both because nobody can stop me, both of these are courtship

76.) Did They or Didn’t They?

63.) Everybody Knows/Mistaken for Couple

this definitely happens in canonverse if they come to earth. to the humans, they’re so similar yet so complimentary and play off each other so well that they have to be sisters, girlfriends, wives, SOMETHING. everyone knows THAT. so nobody bothers to bring it up how compatible they are even though they’re constantly arguing because duh, they’ve started living in the same apartment, they go everywhere with each other, they even try to get court cases against each other. they’re totally doing this on purpose they’re totally fucking

even though like? it’s not even really on purpose. they live together because back on homeworld, all zircons in a facet lived together in the same apartment complex, it’s force of habit. they go everywhere each other because they’re both shit-awful introverts and any introvert worth her salt knows that hanging with someone you can’t stand is better than hanging with someone you don’t know. and why wouldn’t they try to get court cases against each other it’s what they’ve always done

except that one day BZ and YZ are out on one of their “business dinners” in a private suite of a fancy restaurant and someone gossipy like yellow pearl eavesdrops on their conversation expecting to hear mushy romantic shit but instead theyre just???? discussing points of law and insulting each other?? so she maybe-kinda follows them home because curiosity killed the cat you know and expects to hear sex talk through their window but no they just keep arguing about constitutional law until they both go to bed

cue an elaborate scheme to catch them both in the act which draws in more and more curious gems and humans who all want to know, do the gem lawyers fuck or do they not, until the entirety of beach city is in on it and BZ and YZ are just so fuckin confused. they know something’s up but they’re not sure what. so they in turn start poking around and, united against the common enemy of a mystery, both start developing feelings for each other. everything resolves with BZ and YZ having their first kiss and then immediately like 20 gems burst in on them and go “AHA!” and now the zircons are like double confused

55.) Established Relationship

49.) Fake Married

now this is something that happens in the bluebell field verse!

so after the epilogue of bluebell field, yana and bell date for the rest of high school senior year, but go to different schools — bell goes to pomona college in california, yana travels across the country to georgetown in washington d.c., both incredibly good schools where they both have an amazing time! however their relationship weakens and they break up midway through freshman year, unable to stay long-distance. bell continues to date other women and yana experiments more, even getting engaged to a man at one point before calling it off.

they graduate in 2002 and both return to L.A., both with plans to take a gap year and work before law school. however, later that year, yana is accidentally outed to her homophobic parents and is forced to leave home. she reconciles with bell and bell’s family welcomes her into their home with open arms. after such a long time, it’s kind of awkward for them to begin dating right away, but they slowly begin to rekindle their relationship and are officially dating by the time they both begin 1L at harvard law school. they are quiet about their relationship but not secretive, open to their close friends and people they trust.

at the end of their first year, massachusetts legalizes gay marriage and they’re both quite happy for that, but since their relationship is still kind of tender, they decide not to make any fast moves. during the summer, they return home to L.A. and yana tells bell and her family about wanting to reconcile with her parents so she doesn’t have to keep taking up space in her home.

worried for yana, mama zarcero hatches a plan to truly test yana’s parents’ loyalty — when yana goes back, she should introduce bell as her lawfully wedded wife. yana’s parents now cannot play the “we’ll love you again if you stop being gay” manipulation card without violating a lawful marriage, or at least what they THINK is a lawful marriage in the state of massachusetts. if they further refuse to support yana, then nothing has changed and the act can be dropped.

except that something DOES change. when yana introduces bell as her wife, yana’s parents actually relent. they confess that they had wondered if such a thing would happen, and that even though they knew that yana was probably off screwing ladies in cambridge, they missed her anyway. they tell yana that even though their public policies haven’t changed, they will tolerate her choice and would acknowledge bell as their daughter in law.

this sends bell and yana and bell’s parents all up in a tizzy because they actually hadn’t expected that to work??? like what the fuck??????? but now yana’s parents are actually kind of getting into it, they’re curious and they want to know what the wedding was like, what did yana’s dress look like, did bell wear a dress or??? what are lesbian weddings like???? and whether or not they’re buying a house and settling in cambridge or what. and it could all be solved by yana simply confessing “hey we’re not actually married we were just testing you” but she REALLY LIKES having her parents actually be interested in her life, and she doesn’t want to make them mad by confessing that she lied to them. and also because mama and papa zarcero are both having a lot of fun making fake wedding pictures and making yana’s parents uncomfortable with their much-too-loud punk rock music. “we can only do this if they think we’re in-laws!! if we’re just the girlfriend’s parents, we can’t, but now they think they’re stuck with us!”

cue chaos.

send me two tropes and a ship!

#long post #courtship #the bluebell field #yellow zircon #zircon #waffle writes #ask #passionately-isolated #my stuff

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droo216 · 6 years

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Hey!! I’m the person who sent you an ask a while ago about having a Drew-niverse Descendants OC in my head and I’m just now getting around to telling you about her. Ok here she is: her name is Klara. She’s born in Dorwood and her mother dies giving birth to her and her father resents her for it. He goes down a deep hole with alcohol and becomes severely abusive to Klara, which only gets worse as her ice magic develops, calling her a freak and locking her outdoors in storms.

Pt. 2: By the time she’s 6 they’re homeless. Her only options are to stay with her abusive father or hand herself over to a notoriously terrible orphanage, so she stays with her dad. Whenever someone does give them money when they beg on the street, her father goes into the tavern himself and never lets Klara so much as come inside. He drinks away every cent. The kind woman who runs the tavern finds Klara searching through the trash one night and invites her to come in.

Pt. 3: she gives her what little food she has left over from customers and keeps an eye on her father so she can in outside when he leaves so she doesn’t get in trouble. One night the tavern owner finds him simply gone and tells Klara that she can’t find him anywhere. Frantic, she runs towards the cave where they were sleeping, but there’s no sign of her father or the cave. A horrible storm begins, but Klara continues to walk through the mountains to find her father.

Pt 4: What she doesn’t realize is that she’s crossed the border into Arendelle in her searching. Even though her magic got her that far, she is a severely malnourished little girl and passes out in a ditch. The next morning she realizes how lost she is. The storm is over, but in trying to climb out of the ditch, heavy rocks fall out from underneath her, injuring her ankle and trapping her there. She begins to cry and yell for help. After a while she begins to give up hope.

Pt 5: When she thinks she sees movement in the woods far away she yells for help again. She hears a sled moving quickly towards her and suddenly there is a man jumping down into the ditch to help her (Kristoff). He lifts the rocks and she shimmies out from underneath them. When he lifts her up out of the ditch she struggles in his arms and breaks free. She hobbles a few steps away and tells him not to hurt her. When he tries to come close again she shoots ice magic at him.

Pt 6: he’s shocked. They were under the impression that Elsa was the only person with magic like that. He assures her that he only wants to help her and says that he knows someone with powers just like hers. Kristoff offers to take her back to Arendelle to take care of her while they find her father, and so she can meet Elsa. She is wary, but agrees. He wraps her in a blanket, gives her his hat, and tells Sven to book it home.

Pt 7: When they arrive back at the palace both Anna and Elsa are in a meeting, so he sends for a doctor for Klara and asks Gerda (the head maid from the movie) to get her some food and a bath. The doctor tells Kristoff that she is malnourished and is most likely a victim of severe abuse, plus a broken ankle from the night before. The sisters finish their meeting and Kristoff tells them everything. Elsa is overwhelmed.

Pt 8: The shock of finding someone else like her led to pure rage that any child, much less the only other person in the world like her, was treated so terribly for so long. When the two of them meet there is an instant connection. Elsa was perfectly happy with no romance or children of her own, but she knew she needed to take care of Klara. She promises that they’ll take care of her while they look for her father.

Pt 9: When Heidi heard about her she asked Kristoff to take her to the toy store to have little stuffed Olaf and Sven toys made for her. They meet and Klara cries because she’s never had toys before. The two become fast friends. Over the next few months Heidi helps her learn to read and they become best friends. Anna and Elsa are so happy she finally has the kind of sister relationship they do. Elsa helps her learn to control and appreciate her powers, too.

Still Descendants OC anon here, my internet is the worst and I lost my spot, but here’s the next part: Klara and Heidi become best friends quickly, playing all day and learning to read together. She forms a bond quickly with Elsa too, who she sees as the mother she never had. Elsa teaches her to control and use her powers, as well as unlearn the fear and shame she has about them from her father. Elsa secretly begins to look into Arendelle’s adoption laws.

Cntd: Elsa brings the matter to her council and they agree that, under the circumstances Klara could be adopted into the royal family. But she would be a princess in title alone, and would not be in line for the throne. With her father still missing, though, it was unsure if that would happen. That problem is solved when it became warm enough for the rivers to thaw.

Cntd: Her father’s body washes ashore two towns downriver from where they are from. The night Klara got lost he had fallen into an ice fishing hole in a drunken stupor. News of this reaches Arendelle and it falls to Elsa to tell a little girl that she is now an orphan. Klara begs her to send her to the orphanage in Arendelle so that she can stay close to her. Elsa responds by asking her if she would prefer to stay not as an orphan, but as her daughter.

Cntd: Klara obviously agrees. She forgets about her father almost immediately and continues to heal, now with a loving family. By the time the Summit happens, Klara is 18. (I don’t know how old you picture Heidi as, but I’m just going off of Anna & Elsa’s ages in the movie)

Cntd: So I kinda need to explain the next part. I came up with a way to explain how in the older films it’s all love at first sight and whatnot, but in the newer ones that rarely happens and the trope is even made fun of. I’m thinking maybe people from Caravell, Fairedge, and Doorwood might have a genetic (or maybe magical) predisposition to having a soulmate/love at first sight. Ok, back to my girl Klara.

Cntd: She and Heidi arrive at the Summit with arguably the least pomp and circumstance of anyone. Scared to be dealing with politics on their own without their mothers for the first time, and also as representatives of the smallest kingdom, they stay fairly quiet. The only people they really know are their cousins from Corona. Klara gets a shock however when she spots Frederick of Dorwood for the first time. (That genetic/magical predisposition)

Cntd: The first moment their eyes met, Klara ran. She hid her feelings even from Heidi, not wanting to start a “don’t do what my mother did! you’ve heard the stories about Hans!” and kept her distance from him at all costs. She didn’t understand what was happening, as Arendelle has learned their lesson when it comes to love at first sight. There’s also the matter of being the only person at the Summit with magic who is not from the Isle.

Cntd: Arendelle isn’t a very easy place to reach and is pretty separate from the other kingdoms, so Heidi and Klara are on quite the learning curve when it comes to arguing politics with their peers. They stay quiet and Klara suffers in silence whenever an anti-magic royal goes on some ignorant rant.

And that’s about it!! Now that I’m writing all this out I’m thinking I might just write a full blown story, I’m pretty proud of her!! And I’m super bored waiting for my dcp to start. I’m curious as to how the Summit turns out in your story, cause the only other thing I’ve got figured out for her is that she really doesn’t trust Frederick when they finally talk. Tell me what you think!!

Wow.

I love her.

You’ve put so much thought into it! In particular I like the idea of Klara ending up with Frederick - the child of the first princess, Snow White, and the child of one of the newest princesses, Elsa, the connection between snow (white) and ice, etc. I like that a lot! Have you thought about what actually gives them their powers? I wonder if there could maybe be a connection with Periwinkle, Tinker Bell’s twin sister. Maybe Elsa and Klara’s mothers both had pregnancy issues and needed magical help, and Periwinkle was the one to assist since they didn’t have access to the magical flower in Corona!

Anyway, I love her.

#drew answers #anonymous #long post #drew talks descendants

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weather-witch · 5 years

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by Inga Berenson It was a hot summer morning. I was nine or ten, riding my pony from our farmhouse toward the barn where my father was working. This was the first time I had gone riding since a string of bad falls had caused me to lose my nerve, but I loved riding, and was determined to be back in the saddle. So far, things were going well. The gravel road between our house and the barn was about a mile long, and I was halfway there. My usually cantankerous little mare was being perfectly docile, but I was approaching the house of a quirky neighbor who kept a menagerie of animals – donkeys, zebras, buffalo, and a gaggle of dogs that barked at every passing car. I was mostly worried about the dogs and how my pony would handle the barking – it sometimes made her nervous, but there was no dog in sight as I rode past the house. I was thinking I was home-free until I heard a commotion from the paddock across from the neighbor’s house. I looked around and saw a giant draft horse push through a dilapidated wire fence and come galloping toward me, neighing and grunting in what I later understood to be equine lust. In an instant he was beside us, rearing and pawing his great, hairy hooves in the air near my face. I thought that was the end of me and my pony. Then all of a sudden I heard my mother’s voice. I looked around and found her running toward us, yelling and hurling gravel at the big horse. She distracted him just long enough for me to hop off. My pony raced off into the safety of some low-hanging trees, and the neighbor came running out of his house to capture his oversized horse. As I stood there, weak-kneed from my near-death experience, I saw my mother’s car parked a few yards down the road, the driver’s-side door still open, and I knew what had happened. She had been worried about me, so she had followed from a distance, just to be sure I made it okay. I’ve been thinking about that story a lot lately. It was about four years ago that my daughter first told me she thought she might be trans. I believe her story is a classic example of social contagion, since she had never expressed any discomfort with her sexed body until she got Tumblr and DeviantArt accounts and began spending all her time on her phone. Since then, I have felt a bit like my mother, standing in the middle of the road, hurling gravel, trying to protect my daughter from an ideology that has sought to convince her that she was born in the wrong body. I am fortunate. Unlike some of my friends with kids who became convinced they were trans, I feel reasonably confident that my daughter will not medically transition. She desisted from a social transition more than a year ago, and she told me recently that she no longer identifies as trans. However, she still has many friends in the gender-queer community, and I know we’re not out of the woods. When she turns 18 in a few months, she may exercise her right as a legal adult to start medical transition, and there won’t be anything I can do to dissuade her. This worries me greatly. So, as a matter of self-preservation as much as anything, I’ve been asking myself, what if she does transition? How will I cope? The short answer is I don’t know, but I certainly won’t disown her or ask her to leave my home. In fact, of all the many gender-critical parents I know who have trans-identified children, I know absolutely no one who has disowned their child or kicked them out of the house. I’m sure it must happen, but I don’t know any. Of course, all parents say things they regret – especially during the highly charged arguments with teens who are demanding immediate medical interventions. In one such argument, one of my best friends even told her then-trans-identified daughter to get out, but she immediately regretted it, took it back, apologized, and asked her daughter to stay (which she did). I also know at least three mothers who have lost contact with their trans-identified children, but in those cases, the kids themselves severed the relationship, not the parents. In fact, the mothers continue to try to reconnect with their children, despite being repeatedly rebuffed. Although I know I won’t disown or reject my daughter, I also know that I won’t affirm her decision to transition. It’s not really that I’m deciding not to; I simply cannot bring myself to do it. It would be dishonest for me to call her my son when I don’t believe she’s male. Plus, I don’t think it’s helpful for me to allow my daughter to dictate how I define words like “male” and “female.” Does this mean I love my child less than the mothers who affirm their children? Since I cannot occupy the mind of any of these other mothers, I guess I’ll never know. But I do know that my love for my child is so deep and strong that the idea that she has been misled to believe that her body is wrong depresses me to no end. I am angry — bitterly, bitterly angry that this ideology has taken up almost four years of her life so far and god only know how many more years it may take. Maybe the reason some parents affirm their children’s transgender claims and some parents question them lies in the parents’ own experiences of puberty. When my daughter felt embarrassed about shopping for bras at 13, I was not surprised because I remembered that feeling vividly. I hated it. I hated knowing that people could see my developing breasts and the outline of the bra straps under my shirt. I especially hated the very feminine bras – the ones with lots of lace and little pink bows where the cups joined in the middle. They made me feel vulnerable and exposed and miserable. I also know I got over it – for the most part, anyway. Trans activists claim that the number of trans-identifying people has increased so rapidly not because there are more trans people today than in the past but because society has become more accepting and they are no longer afraid to come out. But if this were the case, why are the greatest increases occurring in the population of female teens? Why aren’t middle-aged women like me queuing up for hormones now that we can come out? To me, the answer is clear. Women like me had a chance to come to terms with our bodies and accept ourselves as we are. My daughter didn’t have that chance because an insidious ideology was waiting in the wings to convince her that her feelings about her body meant that it was wrong. But maybe the mothers who readily affirm their children’s trans self-diagnoses didn’t have this experience at puberty. Maybe they were lucky enough to sail smoothly and happily from childhood through puberty, unambiguously pleased to watch their bodies go from child to woman – so, when their children expressed unhappiness about their developing bodies, they were genuinely puzzled and could only agree their kids must have been born in the wrong body. Whatever the reason for the difference between those parents and me, I resent the fact that the mainstream media will tell their stories, but they won’t tell mine. I resent the fact that my daughter looks at those parents and wishes I could be like them — because I never can be. If my daughter does eventually decide to take hormones or undergo surgery to medically transition, the only way I could fully support it is if I had clear scientific evidence that she had a condition requiring such an invasive treatment. If there were a definitive medical test – a brain scan, for example – that proved my child’s distress arose from an incongruence between her brain and the rest of her body that could only be alleviated by transition, I think I could go along with it. But there is no such test because individual brains don’t break down neatly into pink and blue categories. Sexually dimorphic brain features are subject to averages just like other physical characteristics. In general, men are taller than women, but if you plot their height on a bell curve, you will see lots of overlap between the sexes. You’ll also see outliers on the “tails” of the bell curve—6’4’ women, and 5’1” men. This is true with psychological and neurological traits, too. Also, trans activists justify their born-in-the-wrong-body claims by pointing to a few studies which indicate that the brains of trans-identified people are more similar in some respects to the opposite sex than their natal sex. But these studies do not control for many factors, including sexual orientation, and we know already that people who are same-sex-attracted have some brain features more similar to the opposite sex. Without tools to reliably predict who will benefit from transition, I simply cannot support medical interventions for young people whose brains have not fully matured (generally understood to be around age 25). I want desperately for my daughter to accept her body and to avoid the irreversible changes and the many health risks that are inherent in medical transition. But she will soon be 18 years old, and she will have the power to transition no matter what I want – even though she is still at least seven years away from brain maturity. There’s a real chance that she could. Would that be the end of the world? No, I know that it wouldn’t. As worried as I am about this outcome and as fixated as I’ve been on preventing it for four years, I do have to remind myself that her transitioning would not be the worst thing that could happen. Plus, I will still be able to hold onto the hope that she will detransition before the hormones can cause too much damage to her long-term health. Every day it seems that I read about a new detransitioner. More and more young people are saying enough is enough. They are reclaiming their bodies and their lives, and I find their stories inspiring. A few days ago I watched a video in which four young women, who formerly identified as trans, answer questions about their experience and share their insights. Their video gave me hope for a couple of reasons. First, they acknowledge the role that social contagion plays in driving the huge increase in kids (especially girls) who are identifying as trans today. It takes real courage to speak up and share stories that contradict the popular understanding of why people transition. These stories not only challenge the narrative of why people transition; they also show that, for many young people, transition does not make their lives better. But another reason that video gave me hope is that I can see these girls are all okay. In fact, they’re better than okay. They are strong and smart, and they are living with purpose and a sense of future. They reminded me that transition – even medical transition — is not the end of the world. Three of the girls were on hormones for more than a year. Their voices are changed, but they are healthy and well, and that’s a beautiful thing. Detransitioners have been giving hope to me and other parents for many years, but the relationship between the groups has been difficult at times. Some detransitioners have understandably resented how parents sometimes try to use their stories as cautionary tales to warn their kids about the dangers of medical transition. A big part of the problem is the language people sometimes use when talking about medical transition. For example, referring to the bodies of detransitioners as “mutilated,” their voices as “broken,” or their stories as “heart-breaking” has not been helpful. One of the most powerful and positive messages of the gender-critical movement is that no one is born in the wrong body. Gender-critical parents like me are constantly trying to encourage our kids to accept their bodies just as they are. Yet I believe we need to extend that same acceptance to all bodies – even bodies post transition. To feel good about themselves and their lives, all people need to be able to accept themselves physically and mentally, and words like “mutilated” don’t help them do that. Online, the interactions between detransitioners and parents has also been a little rocky at times because parents sometimes overstep boundaries that detransitioners need to be healthy. Parents often reach out to detransitioners for help with their personal situations – to seek parenting advice and guidance. But most detransitioners who speak out publicly are quite young; they don’t have children and they aren’t parenting experts, nor is it fair to saddle them with the responsibility of helping us. They’re dealing with their own issues, are often most focused on helping each other, and they don’t (and can’t be expected to) understand the situation and struggles of parents. What’s more, many have written or vlogged about their own, often fraught, relationships with their own parents, so when other parents reach out to them, they can feel “triggered” by being reminded of their own family relationships. These young people are still maturing and processing what their transition and detransition mean to them. They need time and space to be able to do that, and desperate appeals from parents they’ve never met, for help with kids they don’t know, could interfere with that process. Also, detransitioners are not a monolithic group. Not everyone who detransitions regrets transitioning. Deciding that transition is not right for you and regretting transition are not necessarily the same thing. Detransitioners who do not regret their transition naturally resent it when people use their stories to make a case against medical transition. At the same time, those detransitioners who are willing to speak out about the harms of transitioning and the power of reidentifying with your birth sex can be powerful allies in the fight to raise awareness about the regressiveness of gender ideology and potential harms to other young people – whether we’re trying to raise this awareness in the culture at large or just in our own homes. I hope my daughter will listen to the stories of some of these detransitioners and decide to first try some other strategies for becoming comfortable in her natural body. If, however, she does eventually transition, I hope she can be honest with herself about it and accept that she can never be male – however much she may be able to look like one. I follow several gender-critical trans women on Twitter. Although they have sought medical intervention for palliative reasons, they acknowledge they are male and support sex-based protections for women. They don’t demand that the world repeat the mantra that trans women are women. They have a healthier outlook on the world and a healthier sense of self because they aren’t trying to change anyone’s perception of material reality (like male and female). I appreciate the courage they are showing. Their stance as gender critical has cut them off from the support of the larger trans community, which regards them as heretics and traitors. And it must be noted that they’re not universally accepted among women who are gender critical, some of whom regard them with suspicion. Of course, my daughter may never come to recognize the bill of goods she’s been sold. She may transition, remain transitioned, and remain committed to an ideology I find regressive. If that’s the case, it will be my life’s task to love her and support her in spite of these things. But that doesn’t mean I will ever abandon my own sense of reality, because doing so would be inauthentic, and parents should not have to subordinate their own authenticity to their children’s quest for it. What I can do is look after her, help her financially to achieve non-transition-related goals, cook her favorite foods, hold her hand when she’s feeling down. I can even go out of my way to avoid gendered language so as not to provoke or upset her, but I simply cannot utter beliefs I don’t hold. Our relationship needs to be based on mutual respect. I must respect her autonomy, but she must also respect mine. Also, I want my daughter to understand that it’s ok for other people (even her parents!) to disagree with her and hold different views; that doesn’t mean we don’t love her. Far from it. I want my daughter to be strong and resilient enough to face the reality that life will be full of other people who disagree with her for any number of reasons. I’d rather she learn resilience than fragility that is triggered whenever she encounters disagreement or disapproval from others. I feel such a sense of solidarity with the other gender-critical moms I’ve met here on 4thWaveNow, on Twitter, and in real life because they’ve seen what I have seen – that this ideology has made our children less resilient, it has alienated them from their families, their former friends, and, worst of all, their own bodies. Most of us have watched as our children went from well-adjusted kids to teens preoccupied with online worlds, feeling oppressed and seeking medical transition. For our efforts to call attention to the regressive nature of the ideology, we have been called “bigots,” “transphobes,” even “Nazis.” So-called gender therapists gaslight us and pretend to know our children better than we do. And some journalists, blind to their sexism, have dismissed us (in one case, as merely a “bunch of mothers”), despite the advanced degrees and professional careers many of us hold, not to mention the voluminous research we have done to educate ourselves about this particular subject. And, yes, we have made mistakes. We are certainly not perfect. There are so many things I have said to my daughter that I wish I could unsay or at least say differently. There are so many times when my strong emotional reaction to things she was telling me created a barrier and shut down communication between us. Of course, she has said things that hurt me too, but as her mother and the adult in the relationship, I rightfully bear a larger share of the burden to try to make things right between us. I can’t change the past, of course. What’s done is done. But I do know this: My mother has been dead for more than 20 years, but I think about her every day. She was far from a perfect parent, but she loved me fiercely. The love she gave me in the first 30 years of my life still sustains me today. I know that now, in a way I didn’t fully understand when I was younger. I don’t know what the future holds for my daughter. My fervent hope is that she will reject the idea that she needs to change who she is, but whether or not she does, I hope one day she will look back on my resistance to her transition as the act of love that it is. I hope that her knowledge and memory of the fierceness of my love will sustain her, as my mother’s sustains me.

#detransition #detransitioner #gender critical #4th wave now #4th wave #mother trans daughter #love your body #peak trans

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