#love her or hate her you have to respect her bold vision

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

#love her or hate her you have to respect her bold vision #halimede #halimedemf #elf girls #succulent elf meat

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ BOX OF MEMORiES ₎⁠₎

a.k.a good luck charm pt. 2

{read part 1}

PAiRiNG ?! childhoodfriend!kylian x black! femreader

GENRE ?! romance, angst if you have 15/15 vision, fluff (😞)

SYNOPSiS ?! in which kylian and y/n bond over a decade-and-a-half old time capsule that has old feelings reflourishing.

C/W ?! just too sweet sweetness, kylian has ****** **** ** ****, small mention of dismembering (it's not serious at all, i promise), kiss kiss

A/N ?! the part two of 'good luck charm' that was requested many a time 😋 divine romance at its finest, i think i luv this 🖤 anyways, enjoy this kinda long fic :D

TAGLiST ?! @mrs-bellingham

~°~

[y/n] slides an unbranded shoebox into the centre of the carpet. vertices still crisp, crooked and wavering hand doodles tattooed all over cardboard brown, with assorted stickers stuck haphazardly, in no particular order. it very much screamed 10 year old kylian and [y/n], infected with chaos and eagerness to fill any empty space.

"my mum gave this to me over the weekend," [y/n]'s voice is whimsical, "do you remember it?"

kylian scratches his head, contemplative, "not necessarily. though, i can recognise my atrocious handwriting."

[y/n] is chuckling, shuffling closer to kylian and the box, which has currently found purchase in the midst of his palms, "with you on that one. you've never been one to have good writing."

a fact that kylian couldn't deny, so he stays silent, not without emitting a surrendering grunt.

he reads that words written in block bold with black, a failed attempt at times new roman capitals.

"'bondy's golden duo- kylian mbappé & [y/n] [y/l/n]', " he snorts and [y/n] does the same.

"so corny."

"yet who made it?"

kylian is taken aback, mouth slightly agape, "right— okay then."

[y/n]'s laughs seep into the air of the room, bouncing off the walls and sinking into the skin of the man in front of her. leave goosebumps in their wake and kylian has to clench his fists to extinguish the jitter in his stomach.

giggles diminuendo, and she urges him on to open it with a light nudge.

kylian picks at the tape that edges the lid on all its four sides, sticking it to the body. the sound of tearing is swift, ends no sooner than 5 seconds later, and kylian is quick to flip the top off.

the first thing noticed is two pieces of paper, folded twice and inscribed to their respective person.

both adults look at each other, a silent gesture signalling the other to read theirs first. but none seem to want to move.

"come on, [y/n]," a smirk, "ladies first."

she rolls her eyes, complying as she picks the letter with two fingers.

"ah, won't you kill me with your chivalry."

kylian snickers, and she pries the folds open, seeing the first few words that initiate a smile, "we wrote these for each other."

kylian's lips curve into a grin too, "really?"

[y/n] nods, causing kylian to take his, hurriedly opening it as his fingers fumble, "then i definitely can't wait to read this."

"i was probably just spewing shit, i don't even remember, to be honest," [y/n] tries to excuse the impending nonsense past her had written to kylian. yet, it rather makes the man more excited.

"that's why i wanna read it... first."

[y/n] sighs, groaning into her hands, "go ahead, then."

smiling, his lips begin to move as he says what his eyes scan, aloud, " 'dear ky, i don't even know what to write but i see you speeding ahead so i'm pretending i do right now'- do you really hate me that much?"

[y/n] is quick to deny, "no! ky, you know i'm not good with words."

he pushes the use of the nickname into the depths of his mind, somewhere he could reach later to daydream over.

"i know, i know. i'm sorry." his smile portrays otherwise, and [y/n] clicks her tongue.

"just continue reading, kylian."

he does so, uttering his best friend's words through his.

"'i think i'll start this letter by saying how much i love appreciate you. sappy and all, yes, but your smile makes me smile, and your laugh makes me laugh. i don't see us as best friends, but soulmates? i think that's what it's called. anyways, i hope you stay being kylian, whatever that means. continue kicking the BALL and not my LEGS, and kick your way stardom!! i wanna see you on my screen one day. imagine it: kylian mbappé, france's best footballer (not the world's, you can never beat LIONEL MESSI!!). how cool would that be??? anyways, love adore you forever, and see you in 10 years. can't wait to open this with you haha.' "

the silence that follows is not awkward, or filled with embarassment, but instead, holds too much emotion to bear the weight of words. kylian is sure he has read it countless times within the space of deafness, ensuring that every syllable is etched into his subconscious, memorising every word so that he could proclaim them by heart.

"10 years, huh?" a number that had been exceeded by 5 years, numbs [y/n]'s oesophagus as if boiled water trickled down the walls of her throat. it seems as if all their friendship had were fraying ends of broken promises and loosening bonds.

"i'm sorry, [y/n], so so sorry." his tone leaks pained regret, [y/n] hates that.

"and, as i said before, you don't need to be."

kylian doesn't look convinced, avoids the girl's eyes as he stares at the paper for so long that the loops and leaning lines of [y/n]'s writing turns into a swirl of black in his vision.

"but you know it didn't have to be that way, [y/n]. a friendship doesn't have to end just so a career can start."

stays quiet because she truly has nothing to say. knows that if she retorts with a blame on herself, kylian would be more angry than he already is at himself.

"we departed on good terms, didn't we? so i have nothing against you."

"i didn't even know if you were alive, [y/n]!"

leaves a quiet room after, and [y/n] sighs, moving closer to kylian.

"but i did. i knew you were doing what younger you wanted, and as much as it hurt that i wasn't a part of it, you being happy made me happy."

tugs at the loose strings of a pillow that graces her lap, then continues, "you had neymar, achraf, sergio, the whole of the france national team, as your support system-"

"but they aren't you, [y/n]," blinks the burning sensation of accumulating tears away, "i wanted to experience all of this, with you, and i hate myself for pushing you away."

she doesn't like how her heart jolts in her chest, sending a ripple of shivers down her spine. they've only just gotten back into contact, yet her body is replenishing the old feelings she pushed down, because kylian couldn't like her back.

"don't hate you, never did and never will, ky," doesn't know what to say and so urgently tries to fill the air with something, "we've reunited now, so why focus on the past?

her words are final and she goes to reopen her letter. kylian stops her however. remembers what he had written, messily but passionately, and would rather she read it when he wasn't there to bear the humiliation and ache of butterflies.

"open yours later." his smile is shaky, but deems it reassuring enough.

[y/n] is skeptical, and raises and eyebrow, "why? i want to know what you wrote about me."

kylian fiddles with the thread that rings his wrist, "and i want to see what would put in there."

[y/n] says nothing, just gazes at him, but gives in and sighs.

kylian cheers, removing the novelty gift wrap that had covered the contents of the box. the laughs that follow are loud, full of disbelief.

"no way!" [y/n] reaches into the box, and takes out a metal case. the things within in hit against the corners, and she feels the weight of the box tilt to one side as they roll inside.

"i forgot about these!"

kylian is dumbfounded, "marble crash?"

she nods, opening the container. there's only a couple of the glass spheres in there, but that's all needed to complete a heated game. reads the small note stuck beneath the lid, and laughs after. it's obvious that it was written by kylian.

"'demand a rematch when you open this. [y/n] cheated in our last match before we put this in here.'" followed by angry face and a sad one.

"there you go— telling lies."

"lies?! [y/n], you never played a marble crash game fairly, and you know that."

she ponders for a few beats, shrugs her shoulders and dips her hands into the box for the next item.

"a win is a win, kylian."

he side eyes her, expression incredulous.

"unbelievable-"

cut off by a scoff, before a soft object is hurled into his direction. he catches it before it hits his face, and recognises the matted fur and missing space of where an arm should be.

"armless messi ?" smiles as he notices ]y/n]'s disdained look. recalls the memory like it was yesterday, and can't help but feel sorry for the footballer-named teddy bear.

"i'm still angry at you for that, kylian. don't look at me."

he cackles, mouth wide and he falls backwards. [y/n] climbs over to snatch her sentiment back.

"you know i didn't mean to rip his arm off." pants as he attempts to recover. fails, and starts laughing again.

"i will kick you out-"

"okay, okay! i'll stop."

[y/n] stares at the odd, white stitches situated near the bear's right shoulder, traces the abstract lines of string before settling it beside her.

"you're not touching messi ever again."

kylian whines, latching onto his friend's arm, "come on, i'm more responsible now."

[y/n] sarcastically replies, "i believe you."

kylian lets her go, and pulls out two figurines. the girl beside lets out a gasp, and grabs her respective one.

"letting this go was the worst decision of my life," she hugs the kim possible doll as kylian twists the legs of ron stoppable.

"still functioning."

"and why wouldn't it be, kylian— i swear, you have an obsession with dismembering dolls-"

"i do not!"

"yes you do!"

the back and forth continues until they get tired, lips stretched wide and upwards, teeth showcased and glimmering in the dim, warm light of [y/n]'s room.

something distinct, yet minutely incinerating surges through their bones as the sun begins to sink below the horizon and the air loses it energy. doors of locked events in the past fly open with the key of nostalgia and gasping surprise.

from a picture of kylian in a leg cast and [y/n] signing it, to outdated souvenirs from when they both went to portugal with their parents.

a staggering reminder of what they once were, and wish to be.

hours pass like seconds, the box is now only one item empty- another sheet of paper, so much for 'not being able to put things into words'- and steaming mugs of coffee warm their hands.

"are you gonna read it, or should i?" kylian asks [y/n] as she takes a sip. her head juts towards him, and he obeys, ridding the box of its last content. it's only half an a4 sheet, and it's titled '5 questions to answer', which [y/n] laughs at when she's told. decorated with more stickers and weirdly drawn stickmen, courtesy of kylian.

"what's the first one?"

"'how's life like 10 years later? '"

a chuckle, light and forced, leaves [y/n]'s lips, and she shrugs, "i wouldn't be able to remember life 5 years ago, to be honest. i guess i was just studying and living life as it came. you?"

kylian takes time to think, "won the world cup, was on loan at psg. that's pretty much it."

"you say it as if winning the world cup is nothing, kylian!"

"i'm happy about it, but still salty over the last one."

"ah," [y/n] grins, picking up armless messi as she makes him dance in the air, "he's truly the goat, isn't he, messi?"

kylian is quick to disagree, "i may play with him at home, but ronaldo tops him, by far."

"i'll tell him you said that."

"how?" he cocks his head, "and even so, he's already aware."

doesn't give her a chance to reply, reading the next question beneath, "'is [y/n] still taller than kylian?' oh wouldn't past me be glad."

[y/n] huffs, "i'm still supposed to be taller, you just had an odd growth spurt."

"it was bound to happen."

looks at him disdainfully as he snickers, "next one, kylian."

"is kylian famous yet? like as famous as ronaldo?"

"i guess you already speak for yourself," [y/n] says, smiling, "i'm proud of you."

kylian returns the grin, gives the girl a look that forces her to avert her eyes elsewhere, "thank you."

"my pleasure. what's the one after?"

kylian straightens the sheet of paper, "asks if you're a graphic designer now."

[y/n] smiles and nods, "can strongly confirm."

"always been a picasso-" his words make the girl laugh, "-how's that going?"

"stressful at times, but honestly, it's fun. didn't feel pressured into pursuing a career i didn't want so, i'm not gonna lie, i had things easy."

"but that's good, right?"

"of course. never envisioned myself in the stem industry, don't know why."

"you were smart, though. too smart," kylian playful retorts. [y/n] slides out a chuckle, "it was obligated intelligence, not necessarily welcomed, you know."

"something smart people say," he rolls his eyes after, causing y/n to shove him.

"shut up, rich man, and read the last question."

kylian is humoured, shaking his head as he goes on to read the last words on the sheet. his amused expression falls and eyebrows raise as he is reminded of what he had written as the final question.

"oh."

"what is it, ky?"

inhales, then reads the words out loud, "'are we living together as promised? remember, it has to be a large mansion in the heart of paris!' "

[y/n] tries to formulate words, fails at doing so, and leaves the room silent.

as promised.

kylian remembers. frankly speaking, it was the only thing he wanted to remember because it was something that he looked forward to in the future.

then things fucked up, [y/n] had moved away from paris as a whole and kylian tried to fill his apartment with only one presence, but failed everytime.

"it's not too late, is it?"

he doesn't know what he's saying, his mouth moves on its own accord.

"what?" [y/n] sounds winded, feels the stare on her face and turns to look at who's guilty for it. her eyes are everywhere, all over his face, all at once. from his hardened eyes to his pouted, blushed lips.

looks at the kylian mbappé now, and sees the kylian mbappé then. aged, and that's it, but devious childishness still remains.

she doesn't realise that he has moved closer, and can suddenly see the fine lines of his textured skin, and feel his breath tickle her cheeks.

"what are you doing, kylian?" she whispers, can't muster a volume louder than that.

fingers pick at her stray braid, tucking it behind her back, "i don't know... should i stop? i will if you wan-"

"no," she cringes at how desperate she sounds, "it's okay. i want you to."

kylian's thumb traces the dip of her lip, out of breath as her eyes absorb every intake of air from him. [y/n] had always caught his eye, been the only one who had, and kylian knows he would be downright stupid to let her slip through his fingers again.

a ringing phone cuts through the static silence, and they both jolt violently in shock. [y/n] distances herself from him, numb all the way to her fingertips in anxiety, as kylian huffs, digging his pockets for the source of the loud sound.

picks it up, and [y/n] doesn't hear who exactly he's speaking to, but rules them as important when kylian's eyebrows furrow inwards and mumbles a chorus of 'yes's and 'okay's. ends the call just as quick as it started, and sighs, looking apologetic.

"i have to go."

"that's okay," ascends from the floor, and stretches out an arm to help kylian do the same. knows he's too heavy for the girl so he doesn't dump all of his weight on her, using his other arm to push him upwards.

grabs his coat from the hanger by the door, and slides into his shoes, but stops as he remembers something.

"kylian, where are you going?"

"one second, wait," shuffles into the room again, and immediately notices the ron stoppable doll lying on its back on the carpet. smiles, bends to pick it up, then shoves it into his pocket. looks at the room one more time, then closes the door behind him, ambling back to the front door.

"what did you forget?"

"nothing, i thought i had."

she doesn't look convinced but lets it go, opening the door.

"call me when you get home, okay?"

nods and says an 'i will', but remains stood on the doorstep.

he truly has no clue where his confidence surfaces from, but the next second, his lips are flush against [y/n]'s. they're soft, he notices, taste slightly of cherry and it's fucking addicting.

breaks it before he loses himself within it, a small smile upon his face as his mind becomes hazed and dizzy.

[y/n] is still, eyes wide, and the thrumming of her heartbeat upon her skin is... thrilling.

"see you later, [y/n]."

+_-

'dear [y/n],

i think letters are old fashioned and something people in the 17th century do, but for you, i guess i will suck it up and write one anyways.

i hope when you read this, you smile like you always do. have i told you that you look pretty when you smile? i'm only saying it once, and you'll never hear me say it again.

life with you is fun. i don't think i would be alive if God didn't put you with me, so i'm thankful everyday that you're my best friend. i really hope we stay friends forever, and that when i become the world's best footballer of all time (after cristiano ronaldo of course!), i can show off to everybody that you helped me get to the top of the top!!

anyways, this is getting too long and you know i don't write. so, bye bye, and see you in 10 years.

i love you.'

#work de aechii 🫧 #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe oneshots #football imagines #footballer x reader #footballer x you #x black reader #x black fem reader #paris saint germain

[sweetpandorabox]

Her - Ron Weasley x Female Reader (One Shot)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Synopsis: You've been friends with the lovable Ron Weasley since your childhood years living across from each other, aside from being Harry and Hermione's best friend he always comes back to you in the end when he needed a shoulder to cry on, share a piece of happy news too or just to have a good hug with. What he didn't realize is that your heart has grown your once platonic friendship into something more, ever since 1st year you've tried to gain his feelings back for you, now in your 5th year being head over heels for him you begin to seek hints if he ever sees you this way until it's clear that he never did, because you'll never be her.

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Female Reader

Story Settings: This fanfiction is set in your 5th of Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix time (You're a Gryffindor student for this one and you're also in Harry's year group). Anything bolded and in italic is a flashback scene.

Terms 📖:

Y/N : Your name

Y/M/N: Your middle name

Y/L/N : Your last name

Y/E/C : Your eye color

Y/H/C: Your hair color

Warnings⚠️: Angst, Jealousy and Insecurities

Word Count : 2,071

✯¸.•´¨*•✿ Her ✿•*¨`•.¸✯

You sat on the Gryffindor's red and slightly worn-out red couch facing the warm and comfortable fireplace, reading over a novel you picked up in the library earlier this week. Madam Pince the librarian is known to be an irritable woman and somewhat unpleasant, she seems to hate every part of the student body, being highly possessive and overprotective of the school books she even goes as far as to write down frightening warnings on every book that belongs to the Hogwarts library, stating "A warning: If you rip, tear, shred, bend, fold, deface, disfigure, smear, smudge, throw, drop, or in any other manner damage, mistreat, or show lack of respect towards this book, the consequences will be as awful as it is within my power to make them." But she had an exception and that was you, she seems to find a particular trust and certainty with all the books you've borrowed or read over time, even offering a smile at you every once in a blue moon when she catches you studying or enjoying a nice book, as you'd give her a nod and a smile back. The little interaction you've had with the strict and vulturelike lady earned you a volunteer job of being a library clerk whom only Madam Pince herself trusted.

You read the novel carefully, treating the book like a piece of fine art in a Muggle museum, admiring it with such adoration in your eyes. Not before long, a certain person sat down next to you on the couch, you can smell the fragrances of his familiar shampoo traveling to your nose as he laid his left hand on the couch by you, "What you are you reading?" he asks staring at your side profile as you focused intently on the book. "Hello to you too Ronald, and it's nothing just something I picked up from the library after I volunteered earlier this week" you answered giggling, hoping the redheaded boy won't notice the slight amber-red color your cheek displayed similar to his hair color. He paused and stared at you with a smile, the smile that made you fall head over heels for your childhood best friend through your peripheral vision, Ronald Bilius Weasley and Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, a friendship started through their neighboring houses, you both also happened to share the same birthday which leads into a joined birthday party every single year, a decision that both of your parents thought was the cutest most amazing ideas, he'd let you pick the cake flavor every single year you see and you'd always picked strawberry, a flavor you knew he loved more than anything. He takes the book out of your hands gently, "Let me see this... oh would you look at that a romance book, the usual I take it? he asked flipping through the pages.

Hey, I like happy endings okay? and come on Ronald give it back" you giggled crossing your arms along with an alluring smile, Ron chuckled slightly before leaning into you and tucking a loose strand of your smooth-looking Y/H/C hair behind your ears, piercing his blue eyes into your pair of delicate and kind Y/E/C eyes before handing the book back to you. "You're the most amazing girl I've ever met in my life, you keep being you don't change alright?" he asked smiling softly at you. "Ronald you know I'll always be here for you whenever you need me... I'm right behind you," you answered with the amber-red color staining an even bolder shade into your cheeks. You both shared a smile before Ron pulls you into a hug, he does the little back rub across your back as his breath lean on your neck sending a shiver down your spine as if you wished he'd hugged you this way forever. The common room was empty and still tonight, sending your head into a spiraling memory back to your childhood, "Y/N do you think we'd both marry someone cool when we're older?" Ron asked innocently staring into the night sky sparkling with scattered stars, "Hmm I don't know I just want somebody who's kind and can make me laugh... kind of like you" you answered twirling a strand of your hair and keeping your eyes glued up. "I have an idea why don't we make a pact? if we don't get married by the time we're out of Hogwarts why don't we marry each other?" he suggested looking over at you.

"Hmm I don't hate the idea, alright then let's seal the deal", you held out your pinky over to the 9-year-old Ron Weasley as he intertwine his pinky to yours, soon enough you both head back inside the Weasleys Burrow due to the outdoors cold temperature slowly lingering the both of you, continuing your sleepover inside. You and Ron chatted the night away, giggling and having fun like old times before 2 footsteps came down from the dorm rooms, "Honestly Harry we've got to plan we can't just strike out like this" Hermione voiced out as Harry listen in before stopping behind the couch, Ron turned around to find his other best friends, you watched as Ron eyes Hermione's warm and cozy looking outfit up and down with affection smiling to himself before settling his eyes into her face, your heart cracked as if somebody had dropped it from the Astronomy tower, "Well don't you look cozy and warm" Ron tease at Hermione, "Well yes, Harry thinks we should go and see Hagrid right now to come up with a plan for you know what... are you coming?" she asks, "Yeah you guys go ahead I'll be there in a bit," Ron nodded.

Harry gave you a kind smile as Hermione nodded in your direction, you replied to the both of them with a slight smile before turning back around to Ron, "Well I uh I'll see eat breakfast yeah? save me a spot will you?" he asked kindly, "Of course, I always do anyways," you smile ruffling his head ushering him to go to Hagrid's. You watched as the Gryffindor's common room door closes behind him as your mind kept replaying the moment when Ron looked at Hermione, he never once look at you the way he looked at her, with so much affection and love... you buried your sadness deep within you heading into your own shared dorm room before tears can be welled up in your eyes. The great hall was scented with delightful and delicious-smelling breakfast items this morning, the smell of freshly cooked pork sausages with a combination of buttered toast, scrambled eggs and waffles drenched in syrup overwhelmed the room as you sat at an empty section of the Gryffindor bench saving a seat for Ron next to you, you picked up a couple of sausages and 2 slices of toast on Ron's plate waiting patiently for the ginger head boy. You heard a couple of footsteps making their way in, Ron in his Quidditch uniform talking to Ginny before looking over at you with a soft smile, he take the seat you saved him before looking over at his full plate with a chuckle.

"You have to eat Ronald, you don't want to be playing with an empty stomach" you smile taking another spoonful of cereal into your mouth and quietly peering at your novel, he nodded in silence taking a bite of his food before asking "Y/N, I uh I have something to ask you..." he paused toying around with pieces of the food he has left, you grew curious and ask "Yeah Ronald you know you can ask me anything" with slight suspense trailing behind your voice not breaking your eye contact with the novel you have in hand. "I uh so last night Harry and Hagrid had to do something outside, I was left inside his hut with Hermione and before you know it she accidentally knocked over a bucket full of vegetables and I was helping her pick it up and our hands touched... her hands were soft and we looked each other in the eyes, almost leaning in but we just laughed it off", he mentioned with a smile lurking on his lips as he explains, your eyes shot up and gently toss your book aside to look at Ron to your left masking your almost disappointed and miserable face with a happy smile, "Really? well how do you feel about it?" you ask leaning in close to him begging to hear him say I don't see her that way or that he's in love with someone else... more specifically you.

"Well I uh to be quite honest, I've fancied her since 2nd year, I grew protective over her and I know it may look like I don't see her that way or we uh... bicker all the time but at the end of the day I do wish something more is bound to happen with her, I can see myself marrying her one day" he smiles looking over at Neville, Harry and Hermione discussing something by the doorway of the great hall busily chatting. A dagger seems to stab you, aiming directly into your heart and destroying it into a condition where it can never be repaired by anyone else, your best friend, the guy you grew to love and the guy you cherished had found somebody else, somebody that you can never be, somebody which can do no wrong in his eyes and is the most amazing person the world has ever created, tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that it was too late, your chance of gaining his love for you is up, but you managed to quickly rub it away before he turns back to look at you. "Got any advice for me?" he asked putting in the charms and sparkles into his already ocean-like eyes begging for anything. "Well... I uh first off I'm very happy for you, I'm glad you found somebody that can provide happiness for you and I really hope she feels the same, my only advice is to take it slow and get to know each other more then you did before, fight for her and never stop loving her..." you voice breaks as you explain this.

Ron pulled you into a hug, and as you hugged him back you let some tears go not being able to hold them back any longer, "Thank you Y/N, thank you for always being there for me and being just the best sister... you and Ginny will always have a special place in my heart", you rub away your tears giggling quietly, "Okay...Okay Ronald I think it's time for Quidditch you better head off, you suggest patting his back before breaking the hug, "You go get your girl I'll see you later" you mentioned, he smiles at you one last time before walking over to the group, you unmasked your face, watching as Hermione got on her tippy toes and kissing Ron on the cheek saying "Good luck Ron" as all of them head for the Quidditch pitch. You pack up your things quickly bolting out of the great hall crying, "Caput Draconis", you mentioned to the fat lady as she looked at you with concern opening the common room's door right away. You slam your shared dorm room laying your back against the door, lowering yourself down to your knees as you cry in agony, all the memories of your childhood with Ron have managed to fly past fast in your mind and you wondered what part of you he didn't like nor see, you wondered why he couldn't see just how much you love him and how you'd do anything for him. You cried and cried, your eyes puffed up with a bloodshot stain over your once ethereal pair of Y/E/C eyes, finally realizing that as long as he's happy you should be happy for him because at the end of the day if you truly love someone you should be happy even if your happiness isn't put first, and how are you kidding, Ron has never seen you more then a sister, the pact was a stupid mistake. Everything you've ever done for him just isn't enough, not enough to make you her in his eyes.

#harry potter angst #ron wealsey x y/n #ron x y/n #gryffindor #hogwarts #wizarding world #hp fanfcition #hp fanfic #hp fandom #harry potter series #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fandom #the weasleys #imagine #female reader #one shot

[genshinconfessions]

Do you think there's actually any consistent theme on who gets what vision? The most consistent one is probably Pyro, their allogenes mostly being those with bright, bold, and energetic spirits, but aside from that what can there be said about the rest?

I feel like every time someone tries to propose a theory for it based on their backstory, there are glaring holes to be poked because of the similiarities characters have in personality and backstories. Like okay, you say geo is for those who are grounded and focused in their work, but then what does that say about Tighnari, Yanfei, and others with that trait? What does that say about Itto bring all over the place, in comparison to other geo allogenes?

What I'm basically saying is that, I find every allogene to vision theory made so far just, unsatisfactory. Am I the only one who feels this way? I really commend people's efforts but none have just, sat right with me.

the reason there are so many theories floating around is precisely because no one's really satisfied with the other theories so they each put out their own HAHAHA but personally, here's what i think:

minor spoilers for various character backstories!

--

anemo: ppl who used to be trapped in some way but now are free (and generally value their freedom) and have lost loved ones

ex: wanderer's entire backstory, faruzan being trapped in a ruin and solving her way out, kazuha escaping from the oppressive inazuma regime

cryo: ppl who are self-contradictory (and generally who have gone through some tragedy)

ex: kaeya being forced to choose between khaenri'ah and mondstadt, ganyu being stuck between the adeptus world and the human world, diona's hatred for alcohol yet her job is to serve alcohol

dendro: ppl who are wise beyond their years (and typically associated with life/rebirth)

ex: kaveh's trauma-filled life, baizhu's immortality and his views on it, collei maturing from hating the world to wanting to know more about it

electro: ppl who are outcasts of some sort (and generally intelligent and lonely)

ex: keqing not believing in rex lapis despite being a liyue leader, shinobu running away from her family because she didn't want to be a shrine maiden, fischl's entire persona

geo: ppl who work well or prefer to work in a team (and generally more concerned about others rather than themselves)

this one is slightly harder to notice than the others imo, but the recurring theme through every geo character's vision stories is 1. persistence/endurance, and 2. connection with the masses

ex. ningguang sacrificing jade chamber for liyue, noelle always being there for anyone who needs her help, arataki itto sticking by his gang's side even when they get into trouble

hydro: ppl who are hiding a darker side to them (and generally associated with either healing or truth)

ex. tartaglia seeming affable but actually being a big boss man, kokomi being very nice and unassuming but actually the genius leader of an uprising, barbara being the idol of mondstadt but actually gets depressed often

pyro: ppl who are very passionate about what they do and generally stubborn in their ways (also mostly very strong fighters)

ex: diluc upholding justice both before and after crepus's death, hu tao's general passion for both life and death, lyney's beliefs about his family and mission

--

of course, this is just what my little pattern-seeking brain has put together. it's definitely not guaranteed to be right, but i think the criteria i've come up with fits with each respective archon's values quite well

now regarding your main concern: of course you can say that arataki itto is also very passionate about what he does and is a strong fighter, or that tighnari is also persistent and team-focused, or that kokomi is a social outcast and also intelligent, etc, but tbh, i think that's being a little tooooo nitpicky lmao

ppl are complex, and good characters should also be complex; you can't shove ppl into categories based on one generic trait that most ppl exhibit at some point in their lives and call it a day (that was my main beef with the divergent series lmao but that's another story), so i think it's just a matter of what the hoyoverse devs thought fit the character's story or personality best, or what trait/background really set them apart from the other characters

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin confessions #lore #theories #character analysis

[anacquette]

am i too late? part 2 - remus lupin

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - three years have passed since Y/N and remus have seen each other, and both are living their own separate lives. but they always knew they could never stay away from each other forever.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 - angst and fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - young!remus lupin x slytherin!fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - language

once again, credit goes to @ssoulstealer for the plot!

read part 1 here!

masterlist

For the first time in a long time, I took one good look at myself in the mirror.

I looked different from those last years in Hogwarts. Better, stronger, happier, more alive. Before, I was always shy when I would wear bold colors of lipstick or makeup, feeling like ducking my head and avoiding people’s eyes in fear they would judge me. But yet here I am, a dark shade of red, shimmery shadow delicately brushed onto my lids, and lightly curled hair.

And I wasn’t even just going out to a dinner, or to have some drinks in a bar with a silky voice in the background sang blues or light rock.

I was the silky voice in the background tonight. At one of the most popular bars in London, singing in front of crowds who would stare at me and only me.

I was finally the person I wanted to be all those years in Hogwarts. The person Remus said I would grow to be.

He always believed in me, every part of me. He saw my ambition and my passion for the arts, not just magic. He saw how I wanted to get away from my overbearing parents who just wanted me to become an Obliviator, or something else that would earn me respect. He never once doubted me, and was always the person next to me every step of the way.

I treated our relationship as if it were the most important thing in the world. I based my happiness around his availability to me. I hung onto every word of affirmation he told me as if i needed him to make me feel good about myself.

Even though it was hard distancing myself from him in the last year, watching him talk and cackle with his friends, watching as he fell for that blonde girl in his Potions class, it was better that way. I needed to learn how to be confident with myself and love someone without completely giving my entire being to them.

Even as I watched him hold hands with that blonde girl as they walked down the hallway, watching her whisper something sly into his ear in classrooms and his cheeks flush with color, watching her play with his hair absentmindedly.

I truly wished it wasn’t my imagination when I would watch from across the hall as his eyes would glaze over as if he was thinking about someone else, and he would ever so slightly lean away from her delicate hands. I truly wanted to hate her, but how could I when they were right for each other - Gryffindor and Gryffindor.

A small ghost of smile formed on my face in the mirror as I remembered the last and first time we talked since that night.

I held my head in my hands as I cried in the astronomy tower - big fat tears rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably on the little steps.

The graded paper was thrown to the side, the side showing my failed essay facing down on the ground away from my ashamed and guilty eyes.

“Get a good grade,” i sobbed. “I had one fucking job and I couldn’t even do that, what kind of daughter am I?” I asked the empty air, my cries and ugly wet sniffles sounding loud to my own ears.

“A fantastic one.”

I whipped my head around, and although my vision was blurry from my tears and I didn’t have my glasses or contacts, but I could still make out the mop of wavy brown hair and tall, slender frame.

I quickly turned around and rubbed at my eyes with the sleeves of my sweater to even attempt to not look broken down. I absolutely hated people seeing me cry. Before we stopped being friends, Remus was the only one who I let hold me as I sobbed into his sweater and cried even more at how I was getting it dirty with snot and tears, and he would just tell me “when you love someone, you don’t care about a stupid sweater when they’re crying.”

But now everything was different - we weren’t friends anymore, just acquaintances. He had a girlfriend and I had to forget my feelings for him.

“Go to bed, Remus,” I tried to hide the shakiness in my voice. “I’m fine, just having a bad day.”

My ears strained to hear if he would walk away, but I should have known better - Remus would never walk away from me crying.

Instead, I heard his slow and soft footsteps, his bare feet padding against the cold stone tiles. “It doesn’t matter if you were just having a bad day, any problem of yours is important to me.” His statement was definite - he wasn’t going to leave me alone crying no matter my excuses.

“Is it your parents?” His question was tentative but sure.

“When is it not?” I sniffled pathetically as he sat down and pulled me into his side, where I then nestled into him.

“They’re wrong. No matter what they say or have said to you, they’re both just idiots if they think you’re anything but amazing.”

His words hurt me, that still stupid part of me wishing he meant it romantically but knowing that he meant it platonically.

“I don’t think your girlfriend would be happy about you comforting another girl,” I forced myself to push myself off him and wrap my own arms around myself. It did nothing compared to what his arms made me feel.

“I also think that if I was that controlled in a relationship when I’m just trying to comfort a friend, then I wouldn’t really want to be in the relationship,”

My heart dropped at that simple word; ‘friend.’ But what was I expecting? Him to change his mind a few weeks later and run into my arms? I’m always hoping even as I set myself up for disappointment.

I hoped that my face didn’t reflect on my thoughts, but apparently it did when realization dawned on his face, and then a sheepish and guilty frown. “But it’s not about that,”

I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean? Not about what?”

He didn’t answer my question, only furrowed his brows in concentration as if he was trying to pick out the perfect words. “It’s about you getting out of here. Getting away from your parents and everyone who have ever doubted you, and making something new and……. good for yourself,” he then chuckled lightly to himself as if thinking about an old joke. “You’ve always loved music, and you’re an absolute beast on the piano.” I let out tearful chuckle that sounded ugly with all the snot in my nose, but he still grinned anyway. I did too, the first genuine smile in days. “You should do that; do music. You never cared about potions or devoting your life to magic nearly as much as you did music.”

His lips stretched out into a small, shy smile that i barely got a glimpse of before he ducked his head. “And I would come to see you sing when that happens.”

I teared up again, my stupid emotions getting the best of me again. Him coming to a future show of mine? That meant everything in the world to me.

“I would love that.” His head shot up again. He almost looked shocked, but I knew he was mostly just relieved. No matter how much he knows the person loves him, he will always get shy telling them something so special and sweet. “And when you do, I will smile at you in the crowd.”

His body shook as he let out an amused chuckle and a coy smile. “Really, you’re actually gonna somehow find me in the crowd? I bet you’re going to be singing for like….. 3,000 people,”

I shoved his arm and cackled. “Ok now you’re just being ridiculous.”

We stayed out in the tower until our eyes got heavy and our laughs sounded drowsy and tipsy, and it was the best night I had had in a long time. I just hoped it could happen sometime in the future, where we were both happy and I wasn’t in love with someone who wasn’t in love with me.

As I came back from the memory, I noticed how I had spaced out staring at myself in the mirror, and how small but yet genuine my smile was.

How foolish I was thinking a love like that could just go away. I don’t think I could ever stop loving Remus. It’s just not that kind of love.

────────────────

“You’re gonna knock them all out, sweetie, I just know it,” Edda knocked into me with her shoulder affectionately as I sat in front of my vanity mirror in my dressing room, the warm colored lights making her look like a comforting mother.

Edda was a short and stout woman, with a high pitched and slightly nasally voice that always managed to sound comforting. Her vocabulary always consisted of sweet pet names for everyone, like “sweetie,” “hun,” “honey pot,” “sugar.”

I smiled gratefully at her, her words working a little to calm my nerves that I felt for every show.

No matter how many cheers and smiles and swaying bodies I see in the crowds, I will always feel that pang of anxiety wash over me like a bucket of cold water that strikes me frozen.

“Thank you, Edda, I appreciate it,” I gave her a kind smile in the vanity mirror, where she was lightly brushing my hair away from my face.

“Not as much as I bet that Lupin boy might though,” she said cheekily, a coy smirk on her face. I gasped in indignation.

“T-that’s not true! You’re helping me just fine!”

“You should pin your hair back more often, lovely, it shows off your beautiful face and skin,” she ignored me, her light hands not halting from already grabbing a pin to hold large clumps of hair away from my face and pinning it to the back. “And you didn’t deny it, too.” Well, there’s my answer. “I’m telling you, honey, how are you going to let him see your show if you don’t invite him? True love like that just doesn’t go away, it stays no matter who you’re with.”

I sighed tiredly, getting ready to repeat the conversation we have had multiple times before. “He doesn’t love me like that, remember? He told me so himself, so it’s not just my insecurities talking.”

“You shouldn’t be so sure, sometimes it takes us a long time to sort out our feelings,” she held my gaze in the mirror. “Humans are complicated things, sugar. Sometimes there’s a very small gap between platonic and romantic love.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.” I frowned, even though her words resonated with me on a surface level without even truly being able to understand her complex reasoning.

“It will when you see him again.”

“Bloody hell, Edda!”

────────────────

The room quieted considerably so as I walked onto the small stage in front of the crowds, cackling tipsy laughs and giggles and shouted cursed words dieted down to low chattering. But I forced myself to focus on just a few things in front of me.

The shiny brown wood of the piano and the black and white keys called out to me. As always, I avoided the people’s eyes in the crowd when I walked on, the pressure of seeing the many bodies and pairs of eyes looking at me was far too much. It was always easier to finally look up as I was well into the song. The longer I played, the more confidence rose in me.

I pushed my dress down as I sat as gracefully as I could manage with my shaking feet. The shakiness of my hands only became more evident as I let them ghost over the keys, before taking a deep breath, closing my eyes, and releasing everything.

“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as thought they’re here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Suddenly, I’m not half the woman I used to be. There’s a shadow hanging over me, oh yesterday came suddenly.

Why he had to go, I don’t know, he wouldn’t say.

I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday.

Now was finally the time where I felt brave enough with the sound of the soft, yet powerful lilt of the notes to drown out my thoughts, and lifted my eyes from the keys and looked out to the crowd, never ceasing my fingers working.

My breath caught in my throat, and my fingers almost ceased their playing.

He was finally there. Standing in the crowd, with his hands in his coat pockets, and looking the proudest he has ever looked.

No person has ever looked at me the way he did in that moment - so full of pride and love and happiness and just……. love. His smile was small and barely noticeable, but yet it told me everything he was feeling in that moment.

And so I smiled at him like I promised I would that night in the astronomy tower, and watched as his smile became a tearful one.

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Why he had to go, I don’t know, he wouldn’t say. I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday.

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play, now I need a place to hide away. Oh, believe in yesterday.”

My voice then faded out to a small humming as I played the last notes out. They were so simple, yet they told the story better than I ever could.

I stood up on sure and confident feet and turned to the crowd, giving them what they were thinking was a triumphant and prideful smile, but really I was smiling for him.

Our eyes found each other so easily, mine barely flitting over the flock of people before finding his.

I stepped off the stage and my feet made their own way through the clapping people, only aiming for him and only him.

And as we reached each other with matching smiles and love-filled eyes, I realized that I truly never stopped loving him.

────────────────

Our hands brushed against each other shyly and lightly as we walked side by side on the cobblestone streets. It was a slightly chilly night with a small breeze that blew through his and mine’s hair.

Our pace was slow, an exact definition of a “stroll.” But really I think we both were too shy to speak after so long away from each other. No letters, no phone calls, nothing.

But we still felt the connection that we had as friends that we could never lose.

“I wanted to write you a letter.” His voice broke through the peaceful air first, and all my attention was on him. “But I never knew what to write,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Maybe like a “hello, how have you been?”” I teased, but there was no underlying tone. I wasn’t angry, or even a bit upset. We both needed that time for ourselves. I was truly happy where I got to on my own.

His laugh was light and airy. “Yeah, that definitely would have suited.”

There were a few silent moments once more before he was the first to break it once again. “I am truly happy though for you.” He turned to look at me with something in his eyes that I had never seen before. “I always knew that this would happen, I just hoped that it would be sooner rather than later. You deserve this, I always knew it.”

I smiled a toothy grin at him, and it was almost shy as I ducked my head. “You always were my biggest supporter,”

“Edda’s a close second though,”

I gasped and skidded to a stop, whipping my head ti him, my mouth still hanging open like a fish. “That’s how you found me? Edda contacted you?”

This time his laugh was almost a cackle. “I truly don’t know how she found me, I swear it was almost scary how she did. I will say though, I am truly glad she did because it was getting tiring hunting down nearly every bar in London.”

I snorted. “You’re so dramatic,”

He gasped like I committed a crime. “It’s true, I almost started crying one night with all stressed I was fucking having to beg for every female singer’s name in the bars.”

We both laughed loudly at that, him laughing more so over how loudly I was cackling into the calm night air. Our laughs both faded into heavy sighs and wheezing, and before I knew it, his face had taken a more solemn undertone - his eyes downcast and deep in thought, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“What are you thinking?”

He shook his head, his eyes still downcast and somber. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us over the years, Y/N,” then his eyes met mine and my breath was taken away with how much emotion they showed. “I think….. I…. loved you even then. And not in a….. friend way.”

What.

Am I imagining this? Is the moment I’ve been waiting for for years finally happening?

He then took staggering steps back and his eyes flitted around the empty foggy streets with warm lights shining though, his lips turned into a pained grimace. “The truth is….. I was fucking terrified, and so fucking confused. I was scared to ruin what we had, scared that I was starting to love you too much, and how if I actually came to terms with my feelings and done something about it,” his eyes finally met mine. “I would be too far gone for you.”

He stepped forward and took my hands in his, my smaller ones encased in his much larger ones. He held them as if I was a ghost about to slip away, and that was enough to tell me that this was happening. “I don’t want to waste any more years not loving you. I’m not scared anymore, I’m not going to be scared anymore, I’m ready for everything - all of this,” he shook them like a madman, using our clasped hands to show his devotion. “But I just need to ask you this; am I too late?”

My mouth was gaping open, awestruck by his absolute passion and openness. He truly was ready for everything.

“Remus…… I-I’ve spent nearly my entire life loving you. And thinking you didn’t love me back, not the way I wanted. But…….” I held his eyes with my own, his pained and hopeful. But there was a difference between ours, a parallel that didn’t go over my head; here I was, unsure, as he stood in front of me and laid his heart open in the palms of my hands and hoped to every entity that I didn’t crush it.

I wasn’t going to do what he did to me.

“I just need to hear you say the words.”

His lips stretched out into a small smile, and he gripped my hands tighter. “I love you, Y/N. I love you with everything I have and I’m ready for whatever you want to give me.”

And so I kissed him.

His lips fit perfectly against mine, his frozen in shock, but soon recovered and readily met mine with twice as much vigor. His teeth almost clashed against mine with his passion, and his hands left mine to instead grip the sides of my face to pull me closer until our bodies were pushing against each other. He tasted like life.

It was painful to pull away, and even more so to listen to him let out a whimper from the loss of contact. He rested his forehead against mine, whispering “I love you, I love you” until his voice saying those words were ingrained in my memory. And I didn’t even need to hold onto that memory, because he would say it again and again for as long as we were together.

And I whispered “I love you” back. But this time it was requited.

He could never be too late.

────────────────

well there’s part 2! even though I said it was just going to be a two part, I’m thinking of writing a part 3 smut so you guys have that to look forward to!

i have to say that i was so happy with the amount of notes part 1 got, I truly thought when I posted it that it was going to just get 15 max. thank you all so much, and I truly hope that you enjoy it as much as you did the first one! Please leave a comment to tell me what you thought or a reblog!

don’t be shy to send requests for anymore marauders fics. my inbox is open, and i’ll come out with a fandom list that i will be writing for soon!

Taglist:

@xxemberlights @thatblackhufflepuff

#Spotify #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #marauders era #marauders fic #young remus lupin #slytherin reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin imagine #part 2 #young remus lupin x reader #young remus lupin x y/n #x reader #marauders

[doiecstasy]

She’s Confident

She’s Confident (Diluc x Reader)

Summary: Being an Imunlaukr, you were destined to travel and discover many things all around Teyvat. Even if being the lover of the uncrowned king of Mondstadt, who owns the famous winery and tavern inside the nation of freedom, you didn't stop traveling. Now that you're back from your recent travel, you wanted to taunt your boyfriend and probably show him your hidden bold attitude that is only for him to see. 

Warnings: Oral, Teasing, Smut, Breeding, Impreg

Note/s: Minors DNI. I cross-posted this fic on Ao3 so if you also found it in there, don't worry. I need more Diluc fics so I wrote one and decided to share it with y'all Diluc simps. Enjoy! 

Artwork: eriimyon in Twitter

The tension between the new honorary knight and the former cavalry captain in a room full of the Knights of Favonius is palpable. Very. Noticeable. 

Perhaps they all know the history between the two hence no one ever dares speak up. An Imunlaukr from the clan of the grandmaster Varka and the son of Master Crepus Ragnvindr. Who would dare speak in front of them?

Except, of course, the cunning cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonius. Kaeya.

"I think it is better to sit shoulder-to-shoulder rather than facing each other. Isn't it Diluc?"

The redhead hissed, straightened up on his seat, and crossed his arms on his chest, enunciating through his actions that he is not interested in what his brother has said just a moment ago. He simply did not care and continued to stare into your azure orbs. Those blue-like ocean eyes that successfully captured his flaming ones.

Sensing how the other knights exchanged looks as if being able to communicate with just their eyes, you stood up and walked around the room to sit beside the uncrowned king of Mondstadt. 

You looked over your shoulder and saw a surprised-looking knight. He seems new and shy. You could quite see that he was amazed. Mesmerized, even. A beauty like you, coming from the Imunlaukr clan with impressive combat skills and was gifted with a cryo vision matching perfectly to your blue eyes, who would not be captivated by your existence? 

Glancing to your right, you saw how Diluc stilled and stared blankly in front of him, where you once seated. You smirked and looked at Kaeya, urging him to start the meeting he so-called important to the point where it needs the help of the two respected nobles of Mondstadt.

Kaeya didn't hide his smirk as he started briefing all of the people inside the room about the sightings of suspicious members of the Fatui outside the borders of Mondstadt and how the Liyue Qixing also wants to cooperate with this mission since there are also sights near Stone Gate, Liyue. 

You understood how this is an important matter, for the safety of the citizens of Mondstadt is on the line. However, the man beside you once again hissed. 

"Knights of Favonius, always so inefficient. Couldn't even handle matters like this alone." He said while staring directly at the cavalry captain in the center of the room. 

The other knights averted their eyes on Diluc and looked down on their laps, feeling ashamed and guilty, partly because it is quite true. Something inside you was triggered and you directed your look to the redhead which caused him to look back into you. 

"You can always back down, Diluc. You are not in debt to always cooperate in situations like this. After all, you are not part of the Knights of Favonius, aren't you?"

The room was quiet and an amused man was smiling boldly in the center of the room, enjoying the little show in front of him. But before everything reach its climax you stood up and excused yourself for you already know the details of the meeting.

"I'll be off now. If anyone needs something from me, I am just sheathing my claymore" you looked discreetly at Diluc, "at the practice grounds." You turned the knob and left the room with Diluc slightly shaking his head and Kaeya who is ready to irritate his brother more.

---

You saw Diluc leaving the headquarters and surmised that he is heading to Angel's Shares. You shook your head as you still couldn't fathom why the man owns a winery and tends the bar full of booze when he despises alcohol and is deeply in love with grape juice. 

Picking up your claymore, you placed it back on the armory together with the other weapons exclusively for nobles like you and made your way to the tavern. 

Why?

"Because I want to." You answered yourself while painting a smirk on your face. 

While on your way, a hand was placed around your waist making you gasp and hold your tracks in front of little Flora's flower shop. Good thing it was almost dawn and the child is surprisingly not tending her shop at the moment. 

"An Imunlaukr following a Ragnvindr, hm?" He tightens his hold on your waist, your chests now inch apart from each other. "Perhaps you need something from an ex-Knights of Favonius captain, honorary knight." He said staring directly into your orbs. 

If it wasn't for the fact that you were both out in the open, you would gladly melt under his crimson eyes. But you were completely aware of your surroundings. You could feel the stares of a woman just above flora's shop. Quickly glancing in her direction, you saw the horror in her eyes and the way her hands slowly creep on her mouth as if suppressing silent sobs. 

This is interesting.

Being aware that the woman's eyes are still locked in your position, you placed both of your arms around Diluc's neck and gently pulled him down to your height, making him bend slightly. 

"Why don't we continue this inside your tavern, Diluc. I hate having an audience for private matters like this." You saw flames in his eyes like you've ignited something inside him. Moreover, you saw how the woman averted her gaze into you. She heard it. Definitely. 

Diluc removed his arm on your waist and made his way back to his tavern. You hissed. This man never changes. But you followed him nonetheless. 

When you entered the tavern you were surprised that it is empty. Considering the time, it's the hour that the tavern is supposedly packed with customers and bards. As if he has read your thoughts, Diluc answered. "The tavern is closed for today if that's what you're wondering. But I know that you heard it somewhere and to someone that we're closed for today, yet you still made your way here. So I supposed you're not here for the wine." He said while wiping mugs behind the bar.

Walking over to him, you settled on one of the seats in front of him and placed both of your elbows on the bar, plastering a smile on your face.

"I'm here for my welcome back greetings." You said while watching him. "And probably for some, 'I missed you', words as well." You still watched him and saw that he is not bothered by your words, he just continued wiping noticeably clean beer mugs. Placing your hands under your chin to support your face, you said,

"Or a kiss from you, perhaps?"

Sounds of clanking of mugs that fell on the floor were heard inside the tavern and a pair of crimson eyes were darted into your azure ones. He stopped wiping mugs and placed his hands on the edge of the bar to support himself, completely disregarding the scattered mugs on the floor. 

His stares are of those like predators' look on their prey. You're sensing he got something up on his sleeves and you're not someone who backs out easily. Breaking the game of staring, you inched a little closer to him, being careful not to fall on your chair. But you saw him leave his position and slowly made his way around the bar. You followed his movements and your back is now facing his previous spot. 

Diluc is now in front of you, caging you between the bar and his arms. His face is dangerously close to yours. The edge of the bar is digging behind your back, but you did not care and focused on the piece of art standing in front of you. 

"Look who needs something from me, former cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonius. You said it yourself, hm?" He said and you felt shivers run down your spine. 

You smirked. 

"I didn't know that you hold grudges for small things like that, Diluc. I am surprised." You snickered. "After being with you for all these years, it just so happens that I only knew this trait of yours." You placed a hand on his chest.

"Is it because of how I travel? Maybe I'm traveling too much to the point of almost ignoring you." 

You saw the protruding veins in his jaw. He is provoked. You internally praised yourself for making him like this. 

He removed his hand on the edge of the bar and placed it on your waist while his other hand supports his body against yours. You felt him grip your side a little too tight. Maybe you're doing this a little too much for him. But you didn't care. You also like him this way.

"You changed your hair color." He said while burning his gaze into yours. "Why?"

Your previous hair color was dark brown. Your recent travel required you to change it so you colored it to ash gray. It still made you beautiful. More mesmerizing.

"Do you not like it? I could change it back for you." You said while slowly rubbing your hand on his chest.

He looked at your hand for a second and came back into your eyes. "I love it." 

"Now, pick among the three." He said while smirking.

You were confused and he saw it too. "A welcome greeting, an I missed you, or..." He leaned in at your ear, 

"a hot kiss from me."

He backed away from your ear and faced you once again, waiting for your answer. His eyes burning with what you could see and very well know.

Lust.

You didn't break the stare as you said your answer. "The latter."

Diluc leaned in and caught your bottom lip between his. Slightly sucking it before giving you a sloppy yet hot kiss. His hand slipped under your tight shirt, gripping and massaging your waist slightly. Your hands are now around his neck as he ravished your lips. He bit your lip and you moaned as his tongue met yours. "I fucking missed you." He said between your kisses. 

The sound of wet kisses and muffled moans filled the whole tavern. You already started thinking that he did close the tavern on purpose for your arrival, but you were averted from your thoughts as he pressed his bulging erection on your thighs. You giggled between your kisses and one of your hands slowly made its way to cup his erection. 

"Ah, baby," Diluc moaned parting from your lips as you slowly rub his member. Feeling how it begs to be free from his restricting pants. He finds it so hot seeing you rub your hand on his filthy cock. Slipping your hand inside his pants, you grabbed his member and slowly releasing it free from its cage. You felt proud of yourself seeing how you made Diluc all worked up.

You left your seat and situated yourself kneeling in front of his mad erection. All for you. 

You pumped it several times before slowly and teasingly licking his tip already filled with pre-cum. "Ah. Baby, stop teasing." He said while running his hand on your hair. 

You grabbed his balls as you took his cock in your mouth. Taking him and moaning while his cock slides in and out of your mouth. You pumped the remaining parts of his shaft that didn't fit in your mouth and you could sense that he is close to coming. Diluc was panting as you continuously blow him off, guiding your head with his hand. You intentionally ground your teeth on his cock and you felt him squirmed from pleasure. 

"If you keep on doing that I might come right now, baby." He pleads. You continued sucking his cock like a popsicle until he finally came and filled your mouth. "I'm hard again just by seeing you swallow my semen, baby." 

You moaned. "Then I might just suck you off again, hm." You said palming his still erect cock.

Diluc pulled you from the floor and positioned you on top of the bar. Parting your legs and settling his body between your thighs. He slowly palmed your clothed clit. "You're wet down here, hm." 

He stripped you from your bottom garments and only left bare only for him to see and... taste.

Your head fell back and moans left your mouth as he eats you out like a predator. He licks, kisses, and tongue-fucks your pussy. After ravishing your mound with his mouth, Diluc inserted a finger in your opening and slowly pumps it in your hole while he's busy playing with your clit.

"Ah, Diluc... Add another in there, baby. Please." You grabbed his red hair tightly as he added another finger and this time it wasn't slow.

You heard him grunt and it vibrated to your pussy making you moan louder. His other hand snaked around your back to push your hips even more on his face.

"I fucking missed the taste of this pussy too." He said while adding another finger and continue eating your clit. You were shaking from too much pleasure but you didn't mind.

When his fingers found your g-spot, you couldn't hold it in any longer and came right in front of his face.

A moan escaped your mouth as he licked you off clean. You didn't have time to calm down as he grabbed your waist and carried you to one of the tables inside the tavern.

"I can't wait to fuck you, baby. I need you right now." He said while laying down on the hard surface. You didn't mind the discomfort as long as you're with him.

Diluc pumped his cock slowly as he watches you being impatient and desperately wants to be filled.

"Diluc stop teasing me and put it in me already." You said while massaging your breasts. He caught you off-guard when he suddenly slid it in you. Hard.

He pounded you like he never saw you for a year. When in reality, it was only for 2 weeks. Loud moans escaped from your mouth as he continuously hit your spot.

Diluc hoisted your legs up on his shoulders and fucks you deeper. A growl escaping his mouth. "Fuck, you're so tight and hot, baby. Fucking you still feels like the first time. Ah."

He leaned in and gave you sloppy kisses as he fucks the life out of you. "Want me to breed you, baby?" He said between thrusts and kisses. "Make you a Ragnvindr and mark you so no one could have you except me, hm?"

You couldn't form words from the pleasure he's giving you. You could tell that the table you're lying on will be destroyed moments from now. The idea of bearing a child of Diluc in you made you feel so hot and even more turned on.

You ground on him in sync with his thrusts. "Ah, Diluc. Yes!"

You were almost there but he slides out of you and picked you up from the table. You almost snapped from the lack of his cock in your mound, but when he placed you in front of the wall, hoisted your leg on his arm then quickly penetrated your pussy from behind, another set of loud moans escaped your mouth.

He moaned as he felt your hole clenching his cock between his heavy thrusts. Every time he thrusts it out, your pussy pulls it back in.

His other hand crept under you and rubs your clit fast, overstimulating you. "Come for me, baby. Let me fill you with my semen. I'll fucking put a baby in you."

"Ah, yes! Give it to me, baby." You said as you felt your release coming the same time he came inside you. A grunt left Diluc's mouth as his semen floods into you.

He stilled and moaned as you slowly pumped his cock back in your pussy, helping him cream your mound. "Don't want your release to come to waste." You giggled.

Diluc didn't let go of you as he very well knows you'd fall if he does. He situated you in one of the seats that have a cushion so that you'll be more comfortable after an intense fucking inside his tavern.

He grabbed tissues behind the bar and went directly to your position and slowly cleaned off the excess cum on your thighs. He helped you put back your clothes on and did the same to himself.

After a few moments, he just stared at you like you're the only woman in Teyvat. His woman.

"So, how did the ex-Knights of Favonius satisfy the honorary knight, hm?" He asked, crossing his arms on his firm chest.

You looked up to him and a smirk formed on your lips.

"Well, he did great. Very. Great. Perhaps, the other way to get railed like this again is by officially joining the Knights of Favonius." You said with a smirk on your face.

Diluc raised an eyebrow. "I hate the Knights."

You grabbed his arms and made him wrap them around your waist. You carefully stood up from your seat as your mound is still sore and you put a chaste kiss on his lips.

"But I like it when you're mad at me." You placed another kiss on his lips. "You wanna know why, hm?"

Diluc kissed you back as an answer. His tongue seeking entrance in your mouth.

"Because you fuck me harder when you're mad." You said between his kisses.

He guided your hand on his pants and a gasp left your mouth in his kisses when you felt him hard again. He parted his lips from you and whispered in your ears.

"I can't hate you, love. But I can make you suffer in bed later."

You're anticipating that 'later' in bed at home.

End.

#genshin x reader #genshin diluc #diluc x y/n #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin smut #diluc smut #genshin impact x reader #diluc #genshin diluc x reader #diluc fic #genshin impact smut #diluc fluff #genshin imagines #my first genshin fic #enjoy

[minshookie]

High Ransom.

Pairing |Mafia!BTS x innocent!reader

Genre | smut, angst, dark themed, mafia AU.

Summary | “They all knew your mothers word was good for nothing, she’d never pay it back. So they settled for a painful compromise.”

!warnings! Please read this before reading the fic| 18+ mature language, perverse actions, virginity loss, violent sex, anal sex, oral fem and male receiving, financial struggle, parent death, strict and neglecting mother, cum eating, darcyphilia, urolagnia,slight hate-fuck,reader insert is of age, extremely naive & innocent insert. I do not agree or support any actions depicted in this fictional work,rape. !!NON-CON!! !!non-con!!

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 4k.

A/N: 200 Follwers?! Hi, I love y’all sm 🤧. But on a serious note, this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, I warned y’all. Also the longest one of written yet. I hope it isn’t too much :’) please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors.

Could they be running late? Shivering you sat in the windowsill towel wrapped around you keeping a sharp eye for their large dark SUV you loved so dearly. They were supposed to be here today, right? Getting up you stretch your legs going to look at your heavily decorated calendar,‘Friends Day!!’ In bright pink informed you, yes indeed they were to be here today.

A smile crept on your face, the confirmation made you feel giddy, the thought of seeing them again made you excited beyond belief. “Y/n I just know you’re dressed and not dripping all over the carpet!” Your mother teased from the living room. You swore she had cameras on you, unraveling yourself you chose one of the few outfits she had put together for you for guest appearances. Closing the curtains, making them look as casual as you could. You then sat on the bed waiting for her to come inspect, counting her footsteps along the creaking wood floors. She crept into your room, a stern expression on her face, you could tell she was stressed with nothing positive to say she mumbled “Stop pulling that face you look exactly like your father.”

You stood from the drab mattress choosing not to respond, “wet spot on the floor?! What’d I tell you to do?!” You hung your head, why must she always scold you. “You told me to get dressed Momma.” She sighed, “and you chose to come in here and prance around, flood the floors and dilly dally instead!” You studied the minuscule dark spots on the carpet, “they’ll dry momma.” You whispered under your breath hoping she wouldn’t decipher your response.

“Excuse me?” She griped your cheek in a pinch making you pull your head up to face her. She took a step back releasing your face, she sucked her teeth in disapproval. “Y/n you’ll have stay in here, that dress has gotten too short on you.” She knew her words hurt you, seeing the boys was the only thing you looked forward to every month. Their attention sometimes felt like your only reason to go forward, to avoid conflict with your mother, their presence being a type of reward. She turned to go and your vision began to blur, tears warmly cascade your plumped cheek.

Leaving you alone in the room, you resume your position in the windowsill moving the curtains just enough to peak. Still no sign of them, maybe they’d given up on the money, left you for good and you couldn’t blame them. If you could leave you would too. At that moment all hopes were given up, no longer keeping an eye out you began to daydream... at least Momma would be happier no longer having to worry about the escalating debt.

Sulking in loneliness you barely noticed a white SUV pulling into their usual cut....whose this? You opened the curtains repositioning,hands in the glass knees on the jagged wood of the windowsill bench. Couldn’t be, oh but it was! You bounced like a hyperactive child, Hoseok climbed from the drivers seat handsomely waving directly at you. They all followed offering you waves and air kisses making both your stomach and heart do flips. Tumbling from the bench you run to your door eccentric to get your fix of attention, affection, friendship.

“Get back y/n, what did I say?” She was waiting for you to break her command, she knew you’d forget. “To stay in my ro-” “so why don’t you do as told for once?” You fought the bitter tears as they knocked on the door, You shuffled back into your cage of room like a kicked puppy. Shutting the door you sat on the floor compressing your ear along the hard wood.

“Ah, welcome! Come in take a seat can I get you a drink or a meal? Anything really.” She spoke with a quiver, she had nothing to pay them back with absolute zilch. “Where’s y/n?” You smiled warmly, that voice had to be Taehyung. “She’s in bed sick.” “Sick, she looked alright from the window.” Hoseok you idiot. “I’m sorry... you saw her through the window?”

“Ah Ah, we didn’t come to talk about the build of y/n’s room you know what he want.” Jin was all serous business, the room was silent. “Next month for sure.” She lied right through her teeth and they all knew it. “You said that last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” You held your breath, you hated it when they bickered she honestly didn’t have the money you two only lived in this house because it was your father’s property, and everything you got just by luck and the skin of your teeth. She simply couldn’t afford to borrow anymore, as the boys began to add impossible interest.

“Listen, we’ve let you off the hook because of your circumstances,we had a soft spot, we held you at a respect for your strength...but now the well is drying up on patience and your debt is growing into a monstrosity.” Namjoon gave his spiel

“Your husband may be dead, but honey you’re next if this money doesn’t turn up...and the plans they have for y/n aren’t cute, if you had any decency you’d get your ass off that insurance money and pay up, don’t forget you pay for protection and soon you’re going to start getting what you pay for.” Yoongi was rude whenever he came to collect, almost never staying for the excuses once ‘no’ or ‘later’ was uttered he’d head for the door, but today he decided to do otherwise.

The room fell quiet, and though your mother was cold and not much of a mother at all to you it pained you to hear her sobs and sniffing. You could tell the words being thrown at her stung her deeply. Curious to what was going on behind your door you decided to have a peak, and apparently you weren’t too good at sneaking. Your door cracked ajar, as if he knew it would happen you made direct eye contact with Taehyung.

“Boys I-I don’t know what you want from me you know the money isn’t in my possession right n-” “y/n! Come out from hiding kitten!” Opening the door you stood reading the room, your mothers face glistening, you know better than to disobey on purpose. “It’s ok y/n c’mon we want to see you.” Joon’s smile is so captivating his voice so relaxing, but your mothers gaze killed its power. “C’mon tell her she can come out.” Jin orders and your mother complies by giving you a nod of permission, sniffing over her concealed cries. It ached your but you were too excited to comfort her as you quickly escaped your confines.

“Ohh look at your pretty dress, come sit.” Taehyung pulled you onto his lap, “isn’t it pretty boys?” He pulled the fringes that decorated the bottom, barely reaching you mid thigh. “Everything’s beautiful on our y/n.” Jimin agrees, greeting you with a flirtatious wink. Making you smile into Taehyung’s chest. “Bashful girl.” His large hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“This delicate little thing around all those men with no one to help her, tsk could you imagine.” He glided his hand along your exposed thigh “that tickles.” Whispering into him you feel you face warm up. He hums in response, “want me to stop?” “No, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed all of you!” You turned catching all of their gazes, “same to you princess.” Jin chuckled, giving you a cheek kiss.

“Please let her-r go ba-ck now.” Their smiles faded, and you’d hate to admit it but yours as well. You’d usually never go against your mother but she just didn’t want to see you happy, ever. And you hated it. “Momma...I don’t wanna go back right now, can I be with my friends?” Her eyes stretched in shock and anger, the boys found your rebellion comedic letting a chuckle escape. “Y/n get back to your room now you have no clue what you’re playing with!” Her tone made you wince, no longer feeling bold you were about to comply. Taehyung griped your waist holding you back on top of him.

“And who are you to order someone around when you can’t follow orders yourself?” She sat speechless, “Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin...next month.” Her pleads were pathetic, even you knew it wouldn’t work this time. “No. Pay up today, or we’ll be taking some sweet sweet collateral.”At the moment you didn’t fully understand or care what exactly Taehyung was threatening, the only thing your brain could focus on being his rough palm griping and rubbing your inner thigh. The sensation caused a tingle within you, you couldn’t help but fidget in his lap. “Still tickling baby?” You nodded, a bit too flustered to speak.

“I-I I have a hundred or two I can give.” His hand ceased its motions, making you whine for more of the foreign feeling. He lifted a brow in suspect “You take us as a joke don’t you?” She shook her head frantically. “You just offered us not even a fraction of a year's worth of debt...you think we’re idiots, you think we won’t do what we say we will do you?” The tension made you uncomfortable as everyone glared at your mother for her response, you gripped Taehyung’s dark suit. “Hmph, okay Y/n, show us your pretty room Love.”

A simple request made your mother stand in protests, “going to get the rest of the money?” Yoongi asked knowingly, your mother trembled. Why was she so afraid, they only asked to see your room...maybe she was still upset over the wet spots. “No? Well I suggest you sit the fuck down.” Everyone left from their seat, “go on show us Petal.” He smiled in encouragement. You pulled Taehyung by his hand showing all of them into your seemingly empty room, nothing to embellish the space besides your curtains, calendar and bed.

“Very cute, very cute, right boys?” They hummed nodding while looking at the four bland walls around them. “Jungkook won’t you close the door please.” He demands the youngest, and he does as told, letting your catch a two second glance if your sniveling mother before your fate was sealed. “Lock it will you?” “Uhm it doesn’t lock.” You confessed plopping down on your plush mattress kicking your feet over the edge. “Ahh, Jungkook...make it lock.” He went to work and you watched curiously until your attention was taken by Taehyung climbing in bed next to you. “Very comfy.” He complemented.

“Oh, oh please take your shoes off.” You recited rules that were practically engraved in your memory. He laughed complying, “you heard her, shoes off.” They did as told, making your laugh at their unison actions. You turned to him with a smile still on your face, “want to see my closet?” “No, but I do want you to lay down.” You gave him an inquisitive look, you weren’t sick and you definitely weren’t tired. “It’s ok, I just wanted to play a game, a friends game.”

Oh how excited you were! A game with your friends! You laid down beside him your head rested on your pillow. “Ready?” You nodded eagerly, the rest of them watched closely. “Ok beautiful, I’m going to ask you some things and all you have to do is tell me if you’ve done it before...” he looked around at his men, they looked back with anticipation. “We’ll all play.” You nodded, beyond excited for this new experience.

“We’ll start easy, have you ever kissed someone?” Your face grew a dopey grin, “don’t be shy.” You nodded quickly, “oh? Show me how.” Sitting up a bit, you took his jaw, turning him to the side pecking his warmed cheek quickly. He smiled widely, “innocent little thing, here let’s try this.” He took your jaw in his fingers, coming in and ravishing your lips. Unknowingly you lay motionless as he took over the kiss, maneuvering you as he pleased. Pulling your slack chin he parted your lips, his tongue intruded sharing his taste. A tingle ran through you, you’ve never seen something like this let alone feel it. Taehyung pulled back trailing slobber as he lifted, “m-more more kissing!” He shook his head, laughing at your greed. “No no, there’s more to the game.”

Smirking he snuck his hand under your quaint dress, “ever let Somebody like me see your cute little panties?” You shook your head no, “let us see?” You eagerly pulled your dress up, “pretty in pink...wet your panties hmm?” Sheepishly you shut your legs, “sorry.” He rubbed your exposed tummy, “no don’t be sorry kitten, that’s great, so good.” He dragged his fingers along your pelvic area. “Yoongi, your turn?” Taehyung continued to brush your skin.

Yoongi stood from his seat on the floor in speciation. He brought his finger between your legs using his other hand to push your legs apart. “Ever felt something like this?” He ran his fingers up and down your middle, pausing along the top giving you an oddly familiar feeling that you loved. “Mm.” You moved a bit closer to the pleasure. “Yoongi stop, answer him y/n.” Nodding you yearned for yoongi’s fingers. “Don’t lie...show us.”

Rolling over you pulled a pillow from behind you positioning it between your legs as you lay on your side. “Go on.” Yoongi nudged you and you began to rub yourself, pushing the pillow firmer into your core whimpering as the pressure increased, “it feels so good!” “Naughty naughty y/n.” You continued to pleasure yourself, “mm I know, please don’t tell anybody.” Taehyung took the pillow rubbing his finger along the wet spot you left behind. “You ever cum sweetheart?” You squeeze your legs together hoping for pleasureful friction. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been rubbing yourself raw with no release?” He had a glint of pitty in his tone. “ I-I guess.” Yoongi had began his adventurous handy work once again and you couldn’t get enough. He sat beside you, looking into your eyes intently. “How’s it feel?” “Good, please don’t stop!” Taehyung pulled his partners hand away, “don’t give her too much Hyung.”

You pout squirming, itching with pent up sexual frustrations. “You both play like she’s a doll, she’s a woman, you know what she wants even if she doesn’t.” Jin came from his spot leaned against the corner, he came close stalking over your figure, “take these off.” He pulled your panties roughly you could hear the weak fabric give way as he stripped you.

“Careful.” You felt self conscious as they eyed your nude private area, Jin took over where Yoongi was removed, the direct contact could make you scream in joy, “close your eyes.” Jin ordered, and who are you to say no to the pleasure. A strange warmth took over your core making your hips jump uncontrollably “mhhm please.” “Hold her down Hoseok.” Even that simple second of neglect made you upset. Your hips were restrained and Jin continued his work, “sorry.” You opened your eyes to meet Taehyung’s gaze and a smile was plastered on his features, looking down at Jin who  was kissing your privates, so strange but so amazing.

“Oh please!” You couldn’t control your moans, closing your eyes, “too good princess?” “Mm too good.” Jin removed his lips from you “you're a savage Kim.” Jungkook comments eyes glued to your core, as if he couldn’t resist the view. “Some hair shows she is healthy n’ pure , but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you like your women whorish” He comments lewdly wiping his plump lips. They stood in speculation as you pressed your thighs together desperately. “Oh please! Jin please more!” You earned a hand over your mouth. In attempts to shut your pathetic whines. “Please don’t hurt her!” Your mother beat the door with concern. “Does she sound hurt, don’t make us do something we don’t want to, now go away!” Taehyung growled, before leaving the bed, he undid his pants the respect in you made you look away. “Ever see this before?” He climbed over you, too cowardly to peak, you kept looking into his dark irises. “Your private?” He laughed in your face, “my cock?” He sat on your legs trapping you. He pulled your dress over your head, fully undressing you with ease.

Taken over my temptation, Jimin groped your clothed chest “don’t touch her.” His command was final, Taehyung had been taken by the monster of greed and lust. “Go on look y/n.” Your eyes slowly traveled down, he had himself in his clutches stroking squeezing at the tip collecting the strange ooze on the tips of his fingers. Reaching he glossed your lips with his juices, “never wear makeup, this is all you need pretty girl.” The smell was strong and musky, curious you took a taste, sweaty and sweet. “Greedy girl...you know where this belongs?” He tapped you with his erect cock.

“I don’t think so.” He nodded, reaching below himself without hesitation he penetrated you with his index. “Ouch Tae!” His eyes stretched in surprise, “that hurts? Oh what fun you’ll be.” His finger stretched you slightly as he explored, thrusting softly, curly at the knuckle. Pulling his finger back, and a thick stripe of cloudy grool connects the two of you. “Shit, would you look at that.” They came looking as you lay victim Yoongi had pulled himself from his pants stroking himself shamelessly. Hoseok unbuttoned his top, his fist buried in his pants, while Jimin palmed himself giving you a warm smile, while Jungkook sat timid away from the action and Jin’s face set stoney, seemingly uninterested. Namjoon being the false comfort he was, he stood close, his bulge in your face as he stroked your hair.

Out of breath, the best you could muster being, “I’m sorry if it’s gross.” Lustfully he used your nectar to stroke himself sensually making violent eye contact in the act.

“Stop apologizing, this is the best cunt I’ve ever seen.” Using his foreign vulgar vocabulary he moved back, using his hands to get a better view of your most personal area. “Oh honey, you’ve never had anything in this sweet pussy of yours huh?” You shook your head, “no never.” You whisper. “Let’s change that yeah? Will you be a big girl?” You nodded body full of utter curiosity, what was coming for you the last thing you could have fathomed.

“Mm, you’re the sweetest thing on Earth y/n” he gazed into you, looking your shivering body up and down as if you two were completely alone. He lowered himself distracting you with another one sided kiss, this time though you attempted to participate.

Little did you know his hidden agenda, he gripped his girthy member, massaging it along your slickening core in search of your small entrance. “Ah Ah Taehyungie!” You squealed against his lips. He’d barely pushed into you and the pain was prominent “shh shh wouldn’t want to make momma upset.” He paused and looked down at your slightly connecting bodies. “Hmm Let’s play another game.” He reached for the pillow you were pleasuring yourself on, he placed it over your face constricting your air in the process, muffling your pathetic whimpers and mewls.

In one violent action...“TEAHYUNG!” Your throat felt as if it would collapse,He forced himself into your constructing entrance ripping your walls you felt yourself struggle to become accustomed his size. His pace inhuman. You gasped for air,the pillow blocking any gasp you could get. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe Tae!” He kept his murderous stroke speed pulling the pillow from your face you heaved, sobbing, screaming begging for freedom. “Shut the fuck up!” It could’ve been the tears, or haze of pain, but this wasn’t your friend anymore.

Taehyung’s face as contorted in sick pleasure inconsiderate of your wellbeing he gripped your hips fucking into you aggression never seen before. “T-Tae please we’re friends don’t hurt me!” You cried out for his mercy. “Hold her fucking mouth Min.” He obliged, his hand slick from his own juices. He stood over you griping and jerking his member, keeping his eyes on yours. “Close your damn eyes, your crying is going to make me soft.” That only made you cry more, the treatment you were getting from Taehyung caused an ache you couldn’t help but sob from. “It i-it fucking hurts!” You let the filth spill from your mouth as you groaned with every thrust, your statement muffed by Yoongi’s palm.

“Close. Them. Now.” Stubbornly you kept staring, you won’t obey them, friends aren’t supposed to to hurt you, ever. “Ahh fuck.” Yoongi began to vandalize your face, removing his hand from your mouth pulling your hair to aim for your mouth. “Ah shit shit.” He continued to stroke grumbling heinous names under his breath. “My eyes please help me momma,it hurts momma!” He’d spurted right in your eye and he knew it. “I told you to close them idiotic bitch, you obey us you’ll be alright.” He took your discarded panties wiping your eye.

You didn’t listen to his angered grumblings...She didn’t respond, she left you to suffer, you were being naughty and she could hear and she left you to suffer. The pain in your eye became dull as you became numb to Taehyung’s assault. “She left you, that bitch left you in here to get fucked, and you’re going to take everything we give thanks to mommy dearest...no one is going to rescue you.” Yoongi growled I’m your ear, you turned from him. His seed still rests on your pained features.

Taehyung pushed his thumbs roughly into your abdomen making you cry out. “Your cunt is still so tight, mm fuck stop clenching like that- I’m gonna fucking- oh shit.” He sent his seed deep into you, the sensation was sickening you began to dry heave having nothing in you to throw up. “Throwing up sweetheart?” You ignored his false concern, he gripped your hair. “Think twice before you do, you’ll be cleaning it with that pretty mouth every drop.”

Your face drenched in tears, snot and slobber, and the seed of another, you lay in defeat. He pulled his member for your stinging and burning feeling settled between your legs. “Nice job, you’ve beat her bloody.” Jin grumbled coming near, your entrance oozed a mixture of his cum and blood from your lost innocents. His finger brushed against your puffy injured vulva, “please no no nooo!” You instinctively backed away from the contact.

“My turn princess.” Your eyes closed, you could tell it was Jimin planning his attack. “Please Jimin, you’re still my friend right?” You Sobbed to weakly to even look into his eyes, Jimin had to put an end to it or it wouldn’t end at all. “I treat all my girlfriends this way, hm don’t worry baby it won’t hurt-” you heard him wander closer, “just open up.” You refused, turning your head away from his voice, “Ah y/n don’t be that way.” He slightly scolded pulling you back his way by your jaw, “open your mouth y/n.” You opened your eyes, glaring at him, your right eye blurring and irritated. He rubbed his member along your pursed lips. “No?” He leaned over, his member in his over hand. “Open. The. Fuck! Up.” He slapped your pussy harshly with every word, already sore you cried out, begging for mercy.

He took the opportunity, plunging his cock down your throat, gagging you choked and cried. “Yah stupid Bitch watch your teeth!” He gripped the back of your head, another agonizing ordeal. Your throat was sore from the screaming and now your throat was being rubbed roughly by Jimin’s third leg. “I’m gonna c-cum, and you’re gonna swallow all of it and you’re gonna keep it down.”

You couldn’t protest, you got used just as before you closed your eyes and prayed for it to be over as quick as it started. Hoseok neared you like a predator, ��careful she’s sore.” You opened your eyes quickly, he had his pants completely off, his member erect his shirt open his sculpted body on display. You sobbed around jimins member as he took his time fucking himself into you. “I’m not putting my prick I that mess.” He referred to your battered entrance, he placed his clock between your folds, rubbing himself their. Even the subtle pressure gave you discomfort, “hey! Watch those fucking teeth slut!” Jimin beat the back of your head, picking up his pace.

“She sounds so fucking nasty.” Namjoon pulled himself out of his trousers “choking and gagging, fucking whore I wouldn’t fuck you even if your mom offered all the money she owed.” Namjoon insulted, pulling closer, “what an asshole.” Jimin grunted in retaliation. “This is all you’ll get from me.” Namjoon leaned over you, assaulting you relieving himself on your quaking body. “You sick bastard!” They found Namjoon’s action sickly humorous. He moved to your face, you tried to stop breathing in fear of inhaling it. Warmly it dribbled over you. “I bet you fucking enjoyed it.”

Jimin pushed your damp head down on him as he exploded in your mouth, that scene being all he needed to find his high. His seed was salty and less sweet; he tasted repulsive. You gagged as he removed himself, you leaned over the bed in utter pain heaving. “AHT HEY!” Taehyung cupped your mouth, “swallow be a good girl.” He rolled you back, you tried but your body refused, you gagged against his musty palm. Jimin pinched your nose “take it, take it, take it!” Air became scarce, you gulped ingesting his warm seed, the taste blanketed your throat.

They let you breathe, Hoseok found his release on your tummy, scooping it with his agile fingers he force fed you. “Please...n-no...more.” “Shut up, your breath reeks.” Your stomach flipped, you were going to be sick soon. “Roll her over.” Jin instructed, and of course they followed you let them do as they please, not like you could stop them. “Your pussy is beautiful, but I love a nice ass.” He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall. Spitting vulgarly, stroking himself. “Bite the pillow.” He pulled you up by your waist. Using his thumb he rimmed you.

Getting positioned he spit on your hole. The room was quiet. “Bite it hard.” He pushed himself mercilessly barely breaking through, “tight little bitch.” Your screeching earsplitting You’d become unconscious soon the pain was excruciating, you knew you were bleeding. “Please! I’ll do anything!Please not this, no more of this!” Finally he bottomed you out, “this is what love feels like, hmph remember that.” Jin growled fucking into you barely able to keep a pace.

Your vision blurred, slurring was your only form of speaking back, covered in piss and cum, tears and snot. Drooling all over yourself like an imbecile, bleeding. They’ve used you out, good for nothing you fell into the void of unconsciousness, sweet relief.

A dull jabbing welcomed you back into the real world, no way was this some sort of  twisted dream the disgusting smell registered back into your senses. The smell was you. “Fucking hell Jungkook finish already.” You’d been sick all over the mattress in your sleep, your mouth stale and stiff.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Blinking you looked over your shoulder, tears streamed his rounded face. “Ugh so sorry.” He gagged looking at your abused figure covered in bodily grime. “P-please turn around so it can be over.” Pitying you he held his head down shamefully thrusting to unwanted orgasm. He too filled you warmly pulling out quickly, scurrying to the corner losing his breakfast. “H-hy-'' he retched again. “Let’s go please, let’s leave.” He begged holding his stomach, Jungkook is still your friend, right? You could see he didn’t want to hurt you...

They put their clothes back on lazily.

“Be a peach and tell your mother we’ll be back next month on the dot, hopefully you won’t have to cover her tab two visits in a row huh sweetheart?”

“I hate you, all of you.”

“Ah, but we love you, and we always will.”

(Not my photo)

(Please interact like•reblog•reply it helps sm!)

@minshookie

#bts smut #bts angst #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts yandere #dark!bts #jungkook #yandere bts #min yoongi #jimin #dark!joon #dark!bts x you #dark fic #yoongi noncon #taehyung smut #taehyung noncon #bts x you #dark!hoseok #dark!jin #dark jjk #mafia!joon #mafia!yoongi #mafia!namjoon #mafia!bts #mafia!taehyung #jungkook smut #Bts smut #Bts kink #yandere masterlist

[jortsaaaaaaart]

To Be Forgotten Amongst Friends chp1

Omega! Reader x avengers

Hello all! I revamped my story "ikaros" and this is the new story! Also the name is long rip.

Trigger warnings (later chapters mostly)- ptsd, noncon, kidnapping, human experimentation, Stockholm and lima syndrome

The following chapters will be posted on- https://archiveofourown.org/works/33890977     (seriously- may not post here that often cause i hate the tagging system- go check out ao3)

It's a beautiful day in New York and you're a terrible, no good, thief. 

You were considered New York’s very own Robin Hood. Two hundred ATM robberies in two years, the money flying out of the machines and into the hands of people who needed it. The banks, collectively, had lost over $300,000 from the ATMs alone. But of course, it wasn't just the ATMs. A rash of robberies had spread over the East coast. Most were digital, companies funneling their own money to offshore accounts that wanted nothing to do with U.S. intervention. The FBI were notified, then the CIA, and eventually- after a daring cyber attack against the DOD- SHIELD itself turned it's one eyed gaze onto you.

Nick Fury saw something the other agencies didn't. You had certain gifts that made your line of work incredibly easy. Whether they were natural mutations or some sort of superpower, they allowed you to break into some of the most secure networks known to man. He had almost found you when SHIELD fell and his resources vanished. After the dust cleared he was forced to start from scratch. Hunting you and the remnants of Hydra down at the same time wasn't easy, but, in a strange twist of fate, he found someone else that was searching for you too.

+++

New York was filled with so many people. Most of them were good, in your opinion. (Well, maybe half, actually.) You spent most of your off time working on "projects" or walking around the city. You had become a fixture at the local Bodega. Single omegas were extremely  rare, marked single omegas were almost unheard of. The mark gave you certain freedoms other omegas, sadly, didn't have. It drove away most potential suitors and the ones who were particularly bold would be given a taste of your powers. Once the burrow had gotten used to your presence they saw you as a generous person, but a secretive one. Someone who took no shit even with their designation. You gave to the community and different Omega rights groups in the area. After years of watching you quietly go about helping people you had been welcomed into the burrow's heart with open arms.

You loved helping people in your own way. You loved it just as much as you hated corporations and the police, but when you could make an ATM spew it's contents out into the poorest streets of Brooklyn or make Fox News send a million dollars to Planned Parenthood, you could have the best of both worlds.

At least, for a time. All good things had to end, right? That's what you told yourself as the redhead picked her way through the crowd towards you. 

Seeing an avenger in your neighborhood was an odd occurrence. It was a poorer part of town, untouched in the battle of New York, and too out of the way for any super villain origin stories. In fact, you seemed to be the only mutant in the entire block. You'd always thought, if someone was going to come for you, it would be a couple of FBI agents and not the fucking Black Widow. Your brain and heart went into overdrive as you tried to remember doing anything worth the avenger's time. But there was nothing. The DOD hack had been almost a year ago and all you did was release government files showing attacks on civilians overseas. It hardly seemed like an avengers worthy crime, especially when Black Widow herself had leaked government secrets before.

Any hope of her not not looking for you was dashed when her eyes locked onto yours. She tilted her head, asking a silent question. 

The burst of adrenaline sent you careening through the lunchtime crowds. You couldn't feel anyone on the rooftops but there was a large form blocking your path, trying to box you in. They were stronger and faster but you knew the environment. You ducked into Charlie's, your sneakers skidding on the asphalt as you took the sharp turn. The person behind the counter lazily looked up as you walked to the back. They knew you well enough to not care, they also weren't paid enough to care. The alley would open up into a busy side street. More people meant a better chance to blend in and get away. You were almost to the end when the door opened behind you. Black Widow and fucking Captain America stepped into the alley. For a moment the three of you stood in something akin to a standoff. 

You felt wildly undressed for this life-threatening situation.

"We just want to talk, (Y/N)" Captain America told you, hands raised. The unmistakable stink of an alpha radiated from the captain. You were momentarily thankful for your mark dulling its effect on you. Though, the blonde's scent was tinged with something hauntingly familiar. Something you didn't want to recognize.

Behind him, Black widow's free hand went to her ear. "Target is in the alley between 31st and 32nd," A twitch of your finger and the line went dead. Her hand dropped to the gun at her hip.

"I'm feeling pretty under equipped for this 'conversation'," You replied, slowly raising your hands as well, wondering if they could feel what you were doing. They didn't react and you slowly let your power seep from you.

Natasha was the first to react, drawing her gun and spinning around. Steve looked at her with confusion as her wide eyes scanned the alley as if she was seeing ghosts. She was afraid he realized, a cold feeling settling in his stomach. He moved towards her and you took off running. You felt him hesitate then take off after you, gaining on you with an embarrassingly low number of strides. You tried your powers again, stronger this time, but his focus was unwavering. He was almost to you now and you were running out of options. That’s when the alpha in him came out.

“Omega!” He snarled, “Stop!” Your feet slowed down immediately. It wasn’t as strong as your own alpha’s command would be, but the super soldier certainly commanded respect and obedience. You were forced to stand still, eyes burning holes in the asphalt, as the alpha’s footsteps grew closer. You really didn't want to do this but it looked like you had no choice. Your jaw clenched, and you spun around when his hand grabbed your arm. The blonde's eyes widened as you placed a palm to his chest. 

He barely had time to glance down at your hand before the electricity hit him.

The 1,000 volts you sent into him were supposed to stun him or send him flying, allowing you to escape. However, his muscles spasmed just a bit stronger than you intended. In an instant his grip crushed the bones in your arm and sent the two of you careening backwards into a brick wall. Natasha would find you a moment later, passed out on top of the super soldier, a sizable hole in the wall.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, a few blurry white shapes milled about in the corners of your vision. You couldn't remember how you got here, or where here was. All your senses seemed to be dulled. Your wrist was throbbing and each time you opened your eyes the room came in and out of focus. You closed your eyes, opting to ignore the funhouse effect and focus on the sounds around you. The beeping of the monitors, footsteps on concrete, and two low voices.

"She's alright, Buck, I promise." Steve's voice wavered in and out of your consciousness bringing with it the memory of how you got into this bed. "She did something to Nat and ran before I could explain. I wasn't expecting her powers to be so strong."

"I should have come with you," Another voice snarled. Your heart skipped a beat at the low growl. You knew that voice. It evoked a sickening combination of need and terror and you couldn't remember why. "She wouldn't have gotten hurt if I had. What idiot doesn't know omegas are fragile?!"

"It was an accident!" His voice raised slightly before sighing. "I know you're worried, but she's fine."

The scent you had smelled on Steve earlier swirled around the room. Metal and burning pine, it affected you just like the voice had, triggering both panic and yearning. You knew it somehow. The memory was there somewhere, tucked away where it couldn’t hurt you. Where it should have been forgotten.

The scent grew unbearably strong as he leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. When he pulled back he wasn't expecting his eyes to catch yours. 

His expression softened as soon as he realized you were awake. "Omega," Bucky whispered reverently. Stormy blue eyes stared down at you with love and adoration, watching the color drain from your face. "Doll?" 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the panicked beeping of the machines and Steve trying to calm you down. But it didn't matter. All that you could feel was the need to get far, far, away from this man. You didn't know how you knew him but you knew he was dangerous. You knew he had hurt you. That's why, as he reached out to gently cup your face, you slapped his hand away. 

"Get away from me!" You gasped, voice breaking. You scooted back and tried to back up as far as possible. Your shaky legs barely held your weight as you slid off the bed. Pure terror coursed through your veins, it was the only thing keeping you on your feet. You found yourself pressed into the corner of the room while the men stared at you in shock. Steve and Bucky gaped like you had just told them the Germans had actually won WWII. Eyebrows knit together, blue eyes wide and frantic, Bucky looked like he was in emotional turmoil.

“(Y/N), doll, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s your alpha.” Bucky reached out to you carefully as a low purr rumbled from his chest.

You felt the purr relax you and dull your senses even more. It was nauseating. “I don’t have an alpha! And I don’t know who the hell you are!” You tried to shout and grit your teeth but the words came out in broken sobs, betraying your weakness. Who was this? Why was he the most terrifying thing you had ever seen?

Your teeth were bared at this point but the man kept coming towards you. The tunnel vision and rapid shallow breaths were the only warnings your body gave you as it reverted to its animalistic omega framework. Bucky watched as, in slow motion, your eyes went blank as your body gave out. 

+++

Your alpha held your body to his chest in disbelief. He had expected some shock at seeing him but this went far beyond his expectations. It had been over three years since he'd last seen you. Since he'd last been able to drink in your scent. He'd figured you might not recognize him at first. He had changed a lot over the years. No longer under Hydra's control his physical appearance, demeanor, and scent had changed. But your body should've known your alpha. 

"What was that?" Steve asked. "Why did she react like that when she has your mark?" The two alphas were on edge. Seeing a vulnerable omega drop triggered their protective instincts. Steve desperately wanted to take you and hold you close, ease you out of the drop. If the alpha holding you was anyone other than his closest friend and packmate he would have ripped you out of his grasp immediately. For now he'd have to hold himself back.

"She didn't remember me." Bucky nuzzled his head into your neck, nursing your mark softly. After a moment he pulled back and gazed at your unchanged features. He couldn't wake you from this drop that easily. He pressed in harder this time, teeth lining up with the scar perfectly, but there was still no change. No purr, command, or bite was waking you up.

"We should let her rest, Buck. The pain meds will wear off soon and we'll try again. . . Bring her to the den. She'll need to get used to everyone's scents sooner or later." Steve laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. It was a gentle but firm suggestion. He knew tensions were high, the den, with it's heavy curtains and plush blankets, would calm down his friend and the omega. With little argument the brunette lifted you up and carried you to the den. It was aptly named and extremely well constructed thanks to Stark. Curtains blocked off all light from the windows, mattresses were inlaid into the ground, and the temperature was always cool. It was one good thing about being in a pack with that narcissist, Bucky thought dryly.

Steve led them into a cozy corner of the room. The captain hummed happily as they moved the pillows and blankets, creating a makeshift nest for the three of them. The feeling of the omega pressing into his chest was addictive. He couldn't wait for you to remember your alpha.

The sooner you remembered your bond with Bucky the sooner the rest of the pack, Steve included, could court you.

#alpha beta omega #omegaverse #omega reader #Omega #alpha #beta #marvel x reader #marvel #mcu #the avengers #avengers #bucky x reader #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #ptsd #stokholm #fanfic #dark fic #bucky barns x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #black widow #captain america

[glassheartjukebox]

coffee shop chaos

soulmate au! feat. sugawara

a/n: this is part of the 300 follower event, reblogs are always appreciated!

anyone that would create a soulmate system so asinine is one of two things: cruel or incompetent. if there is a god, and if that god designed the soulmate system, your first mission in the afterlife is to fight him. to grab him by his big ass neck and throttle him. after all, it is his fault the phrase, “i want her titties in my face” was tattooed on your arm.

your soulmates first thought when they see you is tattooed on your arm for eternity. what a joke. perhaps god had a sense of humor. not only did this system produce less than savory results like your own, it also was ineffective. unless you see your thought tattooed on another individual’s arm, you might not realize you’ve even met your soulmate. hell, maybe you’d already met the bastard that gifted you with this mark.

the tattoo had quickly become a problem when it appeared on your fifteenth birthday. at that time in your life, you were one of the youngest in your friend group. you watched as your friend’s marks were etched into their skin. some of their tattoos, like kaori’s “i think that’s the love of my life,” and akaashi’s “i could stare into those eyes for an eternity,” were wonderfully romantic. others were underwhelming, like bokuto’s “that must be the finest man alive”. but none had been as vulgar as yours. whenever the topic of soulmate marks arose, you were subject to teasing and pity. this naturally didn’t stop when you left high school.

the short sleeved shirts at the coffee shop you worked at had become the bane of your existence. passing customers their drinks across the counter left your tattoo in full view. looks varying from amusement (not so funny when it’s tattooed on your body), to pity (wow thanks! very helpful), to disgust (once again, very helpful! definitely chose to have this mark!) were often cast your way.

your friends tried to reason with you, tell you that if you met your soulmate at work he’d know it was you because he’d see your arm. at this point, meeting your soulmate might turn into a wwe match because of the tattoo they so graciously left on you.

even though it made you feel like an immature 15 year old again, you couldn’t help but envy some of your friends and coworkers tattoos. yachi, one year your junior, with the words “her smile is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen” tattooed in a dainty cursive font. kiyoko, one year your senior, with a simple “goddamn.” tattooed in bold. both of them blanched when they saw your tattoo before assuring you they’d seen tattoos just as bad (if not worse) on the boys from the volleyball club they managed in high school.

but it’s whatever. that’s life. day in and day out, you ignore the soulmate system and pay your bills while pushing through your senior year in college.

today is a rare day that the two baristas opening with you are kiyoko and yachi. previously, your interest in meeting your soulmate had been relatively dormant. after becoming closer with the two girls, you yearned for the companionship they spoke of. kiyoko had tanaka, her soulmate she’d met while managing the volleyball team at her school. he was the antithesis of her; loud, kind of a mess, and disheveled. but he was kindhearted and he never failed to make her smile. he knew just how to get her talking and how to fluster her. he loves her unconditionally. yachi only recently met her soulmate. she ran into kanoka, a division one female volleyball player, on the train one day. though their relationship was new, you’d met her numerous times when she’d pick up or drop off yachi at the coffee shop. their newly minted love was adorable. kanoka looked at yachi like she held the world in her hands.

you couldn’t picture yourself in a relationship like theirs. the image of your soulmate that your mind conjured up was some greasy old pervert. or maybe some 20 something frat boy with no respect for women. you could probably fry bacon with the amount of grease in his hair. maybe you could suffocate yourself with the copious amount of axe he owned to save yourself the misery of being with him.

it’s 6:45, and fast approaching the busiest time of the morning when you see a flash of gray hair in your peripheral vision. you barely register it, until you hear yachi and kiyoko happily greeting the man and doting on him. you slide the caramel macchiato you’d been preparing to the customer (she eyes your arm with a look of confusion. thanks lady) and turn to see the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on. goddamn, for him? you’d do the cooking, the cleaning, and the dick sucking. anything for that gorgeous man.

the man in front of you was all kind smiles, he held a satchel with a laptop and children’s drawings peeking out of the top. damnit, probably married with kids. doesn’t mean you can’t admire the view though. kiyoko begins to prepare his drink and yachi calls you over.

“y/n! come over here, i want you to meet a friend of ours,” she squeals. hesitantly, you approach the registers. “sugawara, this is my friend y/n. y/n, this is sugawara, he’s an elementary school teacher,” good, so possibly not married with children? yachi continued, “he’s also one of the guys from our high school volleyball club! his soulmate mark is the reason i didn’t find yours too shocking!” sugawara let out a chuckle while smiling at you, eyes full of mirth.

“it’s nice to meet you y/n,” god the way your name rolled off his tongue was heavenly, “wanna compare marks? i’ve never met someone with one nearly as explicit as mine.”

you smirked in response, “i’d like to see you beat me. mine is pretty bad.” leaning forwards you both displayed your arms simultaneously. you froze. all the blood drained from your face and your fingertips as you read “god i would do the cooking, cleaning, and dick sucking for that man” tattooed in a dreamy cursive font on his arm.

you looked up at sugawara’s face and he didn’t seem to be fairing much better. he looked like he’d seen a ghost rather than the tattoo on your arm.

“are you two okay?” yachi asked from behind you, more than a little worried.

paying her no mind sugawara finally made eye contact with you.

“oh my god i’m so sorry” sugawara's apology was garbled with your own declaration of, “please don’t hate me.” you stated at each other for a moment, akin to deer caught in the headlights before you laughed. what began as giggles turned into stomach clutching violent laughter.

“well, it seems that we’re equally dirty minded y/n” sugawara looked up at you, struggling to contain his glee.

you looked back at him, “i have a few minutes before it gets too busy, would you like to sit down? coffee’s on me,” you smiled.

maybe this whole soulmate thing isn’t too bad.

©glassheartjukebox all written content belongs to this user. do not repost, modify, or copy content

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #sugawara scenario #sugawara x reader #sugawara fluff #sugawara headcanon #sugawara hcs #soulmate au #haikyuu soulmate au #sugawara x you #sugawara imagine #sugawara angst #daichi x reader #daichi fluff #oikawa fluff #oikawa x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama fluff #ushijima scenarios #ushijima fluff

[ladyfogg]

King of Wands

King of Wands

Fic Summary: When you first started with the show, Jimmy asked for a reading but you turned him away because it wasn’t time. Now that he’s sitting in front of you and the cards are all laid out, it’s time to tell him exactly what his future holds. 

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Jimmy Darling/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. Just, lots of smut. 

A/N: Look, thought of this and wrote it in the last two hours. Just needed to get this gem out of my brain. 

You’re a reader. 

A tarot reader that is. 

It started when you were a child and your grandmother passed away. She gifted you the set that belonged to her mother and hers before that. Your mother never bought into tarot cards and had refused the family heirloom. The moment those cards were placed in your hand, however, everything changed. 

You were obsessed, pouring over the little instructional book day after day, memorizing each card and what they meant. It wasn’t until you performed your first reading that you realized the obsession went far deeper than you ever realized. 

You began to see the cards just by looking at someone. You couldn’t explain it. It was subtle at first, just the card name floating through your mind. But then it became visual, sort of like when photographs were overlaid over each other. You knew exactly what card you would pull before you even started shuffling. And you were always right. 

It scared people. 

At first, you were labeled a fraud; shamed for a gift you had no control over. Then you were hated. People tended to get a bit cranky when you revealed their spouse was cheating on them or that you knew about the little money laundering scheme they had going on. But they were furious when you told them the depths of their character. They didn’t like when you peered into their soul and made them face the parts of themselves they kept locked away. 

One day, they stormed your house, ready to run you out of town. You barely had time to grab your grandmother’s cards before fleeing into the darkness. 

That’s when you met Elsa. And everything changed. See, she had heard about your gifts and had come to check you out herself. She was The Moon. You saw it the second you laid your eyes on her. Fear and anxiety, but full of intuition and illusions of grandeur. You liked her and you knew that you would be safe with her and her show. Though, you warned her that if she didn’t deal with her past trauma it would come back to bite her in the ass. 

She laughed at your boldness. 

That first night you slept more peacefully than you had in years. You were given a trailer, one that would act as your home and your workspace. For the first time in your life, you had a home that was all yours and you cherished it just as much as your grandmother’s cards. The house you lived in before with your parents never felt like home. Not since you started reading cards. 

You didn’t meet everyone until the next morning at breakfast. Bette and Dot certainly were an interesting pair. Dot seemed indifferent to your appearance, Bette was nice and overly curious about your cards. Ma Petite was the sweetest person you ever met and Eve was an Amazonian vision. You met the others as well, but they were the ones who took you under their wings and showed you the ropes. 

Well, them, and Jimmy. 

Jimmy Darling. 

From the moment he walked into the food tent you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Those deep brown eyes, curly hair, strong arms...he drove you to distraction. At least, that’s what you assumed it was when you didn’t see a card for him. You saw one for everyone else. In fact, the others insisted you read for them so they could see what you could do. 

You humored them, mostly because you wanted to impress your new friends but also because you wanted the practice. 

“What do you see?” Bette asked as drew three cards and laid them out before her and Dot. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, Bette,” Dot said with her signature firm voice. “Tarot reading ain’t a skill. These people are just very perspective and use the cards as a way to swindle you.”

“You’re wrong and right,” you told her, still staring at your cards. “It’s a skill but most people do use it for personal gain. I however have nothing to gain other than getting these damn pictures out of my head.”

“What sort of pictures?” Bette asked. 

“The cards. I can look at a person and know exactly what card I’m going to pull.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

You tap the first card. “The Sun Reversed. Means overly optimistic and feeling down. You need to let your inner child come out and play. Have some fun in your life, honey.”

Bette smiled while Dot rolled her eyes. “I try,” she said. “But she won’t let me have any fun.”

“If I let you have the fun you want, we’d get pregnant,” Dot said. 

You chuckled as you kept looking. “Next card is The Lovers Reversed. You don’t love yourself or respect yourself.”

At that, Bette's face fell and she pursed her lips together. 

“You’re facing a tough choice with significant consequences,” you continued, now looking directly at her and not the cards. "Stop punishing yourself. Whatever you did, those consequences are behind you now, and dwelling on it isn’t going to change what happened.”

You tap the last card, still maintaining eye contact as you watch the card of Death appear behind Bette's head like the backdrop on a stage. “Something will be coming to an end. There’s a transition on the horizon and if you don’t deal with what’s in here,” you tap her chest where her heart is. “Then you’ll be blind to the opportunities in front of you.”

“Horseshit,” Dot muttered. “All of that was general. Nothing specific that would apply to either of us.”

“Those cards weren’t for you,” you told her, tearing your eyes away from Bette who was chewing on her nail in thought. “Those were for Bette. I don’t draw cards for people who don’t want them.”

“Well fine then, draw one for me,” Dot said, her voice tinged with challenge. “What card do you see for me?”

“Five of Swords.” You draw the next card in the deck, laying the Five of Swords right in front of her. “The recent battle you fought cost you more than you realize. It cost you trust, respect, and dignity. Moving forward is going to be more difficult than you thought. You should probably decide whether your point of view is so important to you that you’re willing to put your closest and ONLY relationship in jeopardy.”

Dot is unimpressed while Bette covers her smile with her hand. “Obviously you stacked the deck,” Dot accused. “I bet if another card were chosen you’d say something completely different.”

“Well, obviously. But another card won’t be chosen.” You shrugged and gathered all the cards, tucking them back into the deck which you then handed to her. “Shuffle yourself.”

With Bette's help, Dot shuffled the deck, twisting cards multiple times and being a lot rougher with the ancient set than you were comfortable with. You winced at the way she treated them, making a mental note to buy a set that your clients could handle instead of using your personal one. 

Dot slammed the deck down on the table and waited. You smirked and gestured for her to draw a card. 

The Five of Swords gleamed in the light of the tent. Dot's face hardened and she abruptly stood. “We have practice to get to. We don’t have time to sit around listening to a charlatan,” she declared. 

Unfazed, you scooped up the deck and gently shuffled. “Whatever you say, grumpy.”

She stalked off, barely giving Bette a chance to wave goodbye. 

Jimmy took her place at the seat across from you. he looked incredibly amused. “Day one and you’re already making friends,” he teased. “That was some reading. I saw the others you did too. Seems like you know your stuff.”

You smiled at him but your smile faded when you suddenly realized, you couldn’t see any card. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. All you saw was him. 

Jimmy placed his hands on the table expectantly. “Alright, tarot reader. Tell me my future.”

“Sorry, I can’t.” You had never met someone who didn’t have a card and you suddenly worried that something was wrong with you. 

“Ah, hey, that’s not fair,” he said. “I deserve a reading just like everyone else. Come on, doll face. What do you see?”

You considered the situation as you shuffled the card, with such ease and skill it was like the cards were floating between your hands and fingers. “It’s not your time for a reading,” you declared. “Sorry, Jimmy. Maybe some other time.”

As you stood up, Jimmy leaned back in his seat with a smirk. “Playing hard to get, sugar? That’s alright. I’m a patient man. I can wait.”

The circus became the place where you finally belonged. Everyone became family and over the years, your talent and act grew. Soon, your grandmother’s cards were only one of the twelve sets you used. You did most of your work while people were waiting for the show to start. Your trailer was set just next to the main tent so those in line or waiting could come in for a reading. You made decent money too, which of course went right back into the circus to help everyone. 

Your powers grew as your act did. Soon you could see and learn things about someone that you couldn’t possibly know otherwise. The cards helped get things started but once you were deep in a reading, everything else came right from your own mind. 

Every time someone tried to find a way to indicate you were cheating them, you made changes. At first, they said it was because you stacked the deck, so you started having them pick which one they wanted you to use. Then they said you cheated because you could see which one they picked right away and somehow used that the cheat, so you wrapped every deck in the same identical black silk cloth. 

The table was left bare. No books or anything else during readings. You didn’t need the books anymore anyway since you knew each deck by heart. The person would sit and you saw the images just as clearly as you saw them. 

Except for Jimmy. He was the one and only person who never had a card. It annoyed you but eventually, you came to cherish it. Because when you two were together, all you saw was him. You never got distracted by the pictures. Over time, you and Jimmy became close friends. 

Often after a show, the two of you would sit outside and look at the stars, talking for hours. Your feelings for him grew, but you kept them to yourself. He was the first friend you ever had and you didn’t want to mess up the friendship by telling him how you felt. 

Of course, the universe had other plans. As it often did. 

It was nearly five years later and you were in your trailer, cleaning up for the evening when there was a sharp knock on the door. Not expecting anyone, you frowned and peeked out the curtained window before opening the door.

Jimmy stood on the steps, hands on his hips and jaw clenched. You immediately knew something was wrong and stepped aside to let him in. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, heading to the small kitchenette to pour him some tea you had just made yourself. 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Being called freaks and getting shit thrown at us,” Jimmy grumbled as he paced. “I get so fucking tired of it. We deserve to be treated with respect just like everyone else. And no matter how hard we try they never fucking see that.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I know how much this weighs on you. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Why do you stay with us?” 

His question made you look over at him with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you could go anywhere you want. Do your act for yourself. Why do you stay here?”

For you.

“This is my home and my family, where else would I go?”

He collapsed into your kitchen chair. “You deserve more, you know. Someone—” He caught himself and paused. “Something else. Something better.”

You turned around to tell him that you had no intention of going anywhere when your vision was assaulted by bright lights and the image of the King of Wands. It was so sudden and unexpected that you gasped, letting the teacup slip from your fingers and shatter on the floor. The moment you staggered backward, Jimmy was out of his seat with his arms around your waist to catch you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, doll face. Don’t wanna bump that pretty head of yours,” he said. “You alright?”

Grabbing his biceps to steady yourself, you shut your eyes and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just give me a minute.”

This was the first time in your entire friendship that the two of you touched. Sure there was an occasional handhold or pat on the knee, but he had never put his arms around you and, in truth, it was the best feeling in the world. Unable to stop yourself, you stepped into the embrace, burying your face in his neck. Jimmy held you tight, his nose in your hair. You were so close you could hear his heart racing and when his hand made a slow trail down your spine, you shuddered. 

“Take all the time you need, darlin’. I ain’t complaining.”

You smiled and pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s time for your reading.”

He quirked his eyebrow in amusement. “That what the kids are calling it nowadays?”

Laughing, you reluctantly stepped out of his arms and patted him on the chest. “I’m serious. I can finally see your card.”

“Hot damn. Must be my lucky day.”

You stepped over the broken cup, too focused on other things to care. As you took your seat, you waved to the shelf with your cards. “Take your pick.”

No longer angry, Jimmy looked incredibly amused at the change of events. “You’ve got a strange definition of foreplay, but I’ll play along.”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as he walked up to the shelf, hands shoved in his pockets. He was as handsome as he ever was. His looks only improved with time and the white sleeveless shirt and finely tailored pants helped a great deal. Often you had to stop yourself from just staring at him. Unless he was on stage. Then, you tucked yourself in the back and watched him with shameless love and affection in your soul. 

It took him a while to pick a deck, but when he did, he gingerly plucked it off the shelf and sat down with it. 

“Unwrap the cards and shuffle,” you told him. 

“I love it when you get all bossy.”

“For Christ’s sake, Jimmy, just shuffle the damn cards.”

He chuckled, placing the cards on the table and carefully undoing the ribbon that bound them. When the cloth fell away, you found yourself staring at your grandmother’s cards. They almost never were picked nowadays. Truthfully, you were the only one to use them in the last two or so years. 

“So what card do you see for me, doll face?” Jimmy asked, shuffling the deck. His hands fumbled a few times but eventually, he got the hang of it. 

“The King of Wands.”

Jimmy smirked. “I know I’m good in bed but damn, I didn’t know I was a king.”

“Not that wand, Jimmy. Well...maybe that wand but I don’t know yet. Just shuffle and draw a card.”

“Why now?” He kept his eyes on you as he shuffled. “We’ve known each other five years and you never gave me a reading. The one time I asked, you said it wasn’t time.”

“You know it’s because I didn’t see a card for you.”

“Yeah, but why do you see one now?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Jimmy placed the deck down and drew a card. 

The High Priestess. No. No, that’s not right. You’ve never been wrong in your entire life. A chill ran down your spine and you frowned as you looked at the card. Jimmy’s card wasn’t the High Priestess. 

“Looks like you were wrong, sugar,” Jimmy said. “That’s weird. I’ve never known you to be wrong.”

“That’s because I’m not. Draw another card.”

“Darlin’, it’s okay—”

“Humor me, Jimmy. Just draw again.”

Jimmy shrugged and drew another card, placing it next to the first. The Lovers. “Still not the King of Wands,” he said. “Look, it’s been a long day. I’m sure after doing all those readings you’re bound to be a little off.”

“Draw one more.” Jimmy said your name softly but you just shook your head. “Draw again, Jimmy.”

Jimmy sighed and drew another card and your heart lept. The King of Wands.

“There you are you sneaky bastard,” you said. “Now what the hell…” You cut yourself off when you realized what the cards meant. Images and sounds came rushing to you all at once and suddenly, you started laughing. Full on, deep belly, laughing. 

Jimmy looked bewildered. “Have you lost your damn mind? What’s so funny?”

“You just gave me a reading.”

“Come again?”

You point to him. “You, Jimmy Darling, just read MY tarot cards.”

“But I ain’t no card reader.” 

“Tonight you are apparently. See, this card is yours.” You point to the King of Wands before tapping the High Priestess. “And this one is mine.”

Jimmy looked down at the three cards. The High Priestess, The Lovers, and the King of Wands. His face broke out in a wide smile. “Well, shit,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us.”

The both of you were out of your seats in the blink of an eye. When your lips finally met for the first time, it was like your world exploded. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire and that only amplified times a thousand when Jimmy got his hands on you. He pulled at your shirt, tugging it out of your skirt so he could reach underneath. You gasped into his mouth the moment his skin made contact with yours and he groaned in response, palming your braless breasts with a rough squeeze. 

“Fuck,” you swore. “Jimmy, I want you so fucking bad.”

“Oh, you’ll have me, doll face. All of me.”

He backed you against the wall of the trailer, mouth devouring yours like he was the hungriest man alive and you were the best meal he ever had. Teeth clashed together in your excitement and you were sure your lips were going to be swollen by the end of the night. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he went on, yanking your skirt up to bunch around your waist. His hands grabbed your thighs, giving them an excited squeeze as he yanked you against his chest. “You drive me damn crazy, woman. Always have. Seeing you walking around with this body and this mouth. The things I’ve wanted to do to you. Lost count of how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you.”

You whimpered at his words, wet with arousal and lust. “Show me.”

Jimmy pulled back to give you that damn irresistible smirk of his. “Kinky. I like that.”

You tugged on his belt, undoing it and pulling it from the loops. “You have no idea, baby.”

Jimmy growled deep in his throat, giving you another kiss before taking over the task of ridding himself of his pants. God, he was magnificent. Long and thick and begging for your touch or mouth. Or both. Jimmy placed a hand on the wall by your head, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he started stroking himself. You wanted to look since that was the whole point, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from those dark brown ones. 

You’d never seen eyes like his. They pierced into your very soul and saw you for who you truly were. 

“Come on, darlin’,” he panted. “You said you wanted me to show you. The least you could do is look.”

So you looked. 

Fuck it was hot. Seeing his hand wrapped around his cock, jerking himself off for you, was more than you could handle. You dropped to your knees, pushing his hands away and taking the tip of him into your mouth. 

Jimmy’s hand fell to your head and he swore out your name followed by a loud, drawn-out, “Fuuuuck!”

It took you a moment to get a good rhythm going. Truth be told, you were severely out of practice. Ever since you saw Jimmy, you hadn’t wanted anyone else. You flirted every now and then with a client, but it never went further because you knew none of them would match up to him. 

You sucked Jimmy off eagerly, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the heady taste of him. He moaned and grunted, urging you on with words of encouragement. You always loved his voice and could listen to him sing for hours. But this was a different kind of song. This was one you knew you couldn’t live without. His hips thrust along with your mouth, burying himself as far into your throat as he could go. 

“Shit, doll face. Why the fuck haven’t we been doing this this whole time?” he groaned, tugging on your hair. “You better stop before this is over embarrassingly soon.”

Pulling off him with a pop, you dragged your tongue along the length of him before smirking. “Thought you would have more stamina than that, Jimmy-boy.”

He yanked you up onto your feet and shoved you back against the wall. “Oh trust me, darlin’. I have plenty.”

His mouth covered yours again as his hand disappeared under your skirt. Jimmy’s hands had drawn your attention but not for the reasons he would have thought. Even when he was self-conscious about them, you admired them. You had heard plenty of stories about his sexual exploits and wished that one day you would experience what he could do. 

He rubbed you through your panties, drawing a gasp out of you as he filled your mouth with his tongue before biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. Jimmy wanted eye contact when he slid his hand under that soft fabric, his finger gently making contact with your clit before he pressed down hard. You shouted in surprise, lust coursing through your veins instantly. 

“You’re already wet, baby,” Jimmy cooed, placing the gentlest of kisses on your neck as he continued to draw hard circles around your clit. “Sure know how to stoke a man’s ego.”

“It’s all you, Jimmy,” you panted, already breathless and eager. “It’s only ever been you.”

He paused, gaze softening. “Ever?”

“Well, not ever ever but definitely since the day we met.”

A second later, his finger slid inside you and with a gasp you grabbed his shoulders, arching your back in a futile attempt to draw yourself closer to him. He smashed his mouth against yours, kissing away what little breath you had and making your knees buckle. Dear lord, he was magnificent. His thick finger stretched you better than you ever thought possible, certainly better than your own had. And if you were this worked up from his hand alone, you couldn’t wait for his cock. 

Jimmy rested his forehead against yours, watching your face as he pleasured you. Your eyes stayed closed but you could still feel the stare, sense his smile as your breaths mingled together. When he leaned against you, you could feel the hardness of his cock. Teasingly, you raised your leg to press your thigh against it and he groaned as precum leaked onto your skin. 

“Fuck me, Jimmy,” you begged shamelessly. 

“Oh, I will, doll face. Once you cum first.”

It didn’t take long for him to make that happen. Just a few more deep strokes and you convulsed against him, still trapped between his body and the wall. Stars exploded behind your eyelids and as you threw your head back, Jimmy latched onto your neck, sucking greedily. He was still at it when you came back down from your high. 

“You’re gonna leave a mark,” you slurred, reaching down to grab his wrist so he’d give you a second to recover. His finger slipped out but he kept his hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking the soft flesh. 

“That’s the plan.”

Laughing softly, you dragged your eyes open when he pulled away, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a disheveled and red-cheeked Jimmy Darling. 

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” you said. 

“I take it you don’t own a mirror. Because you’re far more beautiful than I am.”

“Actually, I do. In the bedroom.” You smirked and nodded over your shoulder to the beaded curtain that separated your sleeping space from the rest of the trailer. “Wanna take a look?”

“Been waiting for you to ask that for years.”

Giggling like school children, you grabbed Jimmy’s hand and pulled him into the room. He stepped out of his shoes and pants along the way, leaving them behind. Your room could barely be called that. It didn’t have space for anything other than your bed and a few decorations on the wall. One of which was a large ornate mirror you had found at an antique shop some time ago. Its bronzed frame shone in the moonlight that filtered in through the tiny window.

Jimmy admired it briefly, staring at your reflection as you climbed onto the bed. “Clothes off, doll face,” he said, yanking his shirt off. “Let me finally see all of you.”

You stripped slowly and deliberately, taking off each layer with careful movements if for no other reason than to give Jimmy the show he deserved. When you were finally, naked, he let out a strangled moan, reaching down to touch himself again. “Fucking hell, you’re just a pretty as I always thought you were.”

“I’m even prettier up close.” You spread your legs for him as you settled against the mound of pillows behind you. 

Grinning, Jimmy climbed onto the bed, crawling towards you with catlike grace. As you leaned up for a kiss, he granted your desire, cupping your cheek to hold you there for a moment. A second later, his hand grasped your neck and he shoved you onto your back before burying his face between your legs. 

His roughness thrilled you right down to your core, which he drank from excitedly. Those lips. That mouth. You knew he had a quick tongue but fuck you never knew how quick it was. He had you soaked from his spit in no time, his tongue switching between flicking at your clit and licking slow stripes along your seam. The teasing didn’t last long. He was too worked up and ready for more. His finger slid into you again as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. 

“Jesus, Jimmy!” you exclaimed, clamping your thighs around his head and burying your hands in that wonderfully curly hair. “Baby, you have no idea what you do to me.”

He drew back just enough to smirk up at you. “I’ve got some idea.” 

His fingers and hand were drenched in your arousal and you weren’t even the least bit ashamed about it. After all these years, to finally be able to touch him and have him touch you was too much to handle. You were never one to play coy and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now. 

“Fuck me already!”

“So damn impatient,” Jimmy teased, still fingering you as he kissed your inner thigh. “You really want it that bad, don’t you?”

You yanked his hair so his eyes met yours. “You do too. I know it.”

Eyes dancing with lust, Jimmy’s hand slipped out from between your legs. He crawled up the rest of your body and pulled you into a harsh kiss. You could taste yourself on him and a sense of possessiveness washed over you. It disappeared and was replaced by instant pleasure a second later when he pushed his cock into you. 

You both groaned so loud, you knew the others could hear you outside. 

Jimmy took you so hard, you could feel the trailer rocking along with his trusts. Not that you minded. Nope. Quite the opposite. You wanted more. You wanted all of him, everything he could give. Five years was too damn long to hold back. You never felt so stretched and full before. The world around you melted away and all you were left with was Jimmy finally claiming your body for himself. 

“Perfect. Such a good girl,” he praised into your ear, his hips jerking against yours with a hard steady rhythm. “Always knew you’d take it well. All mine now, darlin’. No one else gets this sweet pussy but me, we understand?”

“Only you, Jimmy,” you cooed, more than happy to give yourself to him completely. On one condition. You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you. “And you’re mine.”

He grinned. “If you say so.”

You pushed against him until he sat back on his heels and you were able to climb onto his lap. He slid back into you with ease as you rode him, his hands gripping your ass so tight you knew he’d leave marks. Jimmy turned his head and it was your turn to attack his neck with kisses and love bites. You saw how women looked at him, you weren’t stupid. When they saw the way you marked him, they wouldn’t look anymore. Not if they knew what was good for them. 

“We look good, doll face,” he panted, watching your reflections in the mirror. “Like we were made for each other.”

You pressed your cheek against his and also watched, your bodies grinding and writhing, begging for sweet release. “We were.”

You came not too long after, too tired and worked up to hold back. Jimmy fucked you through it, biting his lip as his own orgasm overtook him. With a groan, he threw his head back and came inside you, filling you up with his release until he was spent and both slumped against each other panting. 

Sloppy kisses were exchanged as Jimmy laid the both of you down. You remained in your sweaty, tangled embrace, neither one of you wanting to pull away now that you could finally touch each other. Even when you caught your breath, you stayed there, you stroking Jimmy’s chest and him running his fingers through your hair. 

“You never told me what my card meant,” he said after some time had passed. His voice was soft from fatigue and he sounded more relaxed than he had been in days. 

“The King of Wands represents pure, fiery energy. He’s a natural-born leader, a visionary. But doesn’t go forward alone. He’s all about caring for those around him and enlisting their help to realize his vision. He’s someone who’s here to leave a legacy.”

“Hmm,” Jimmy hummed in amusement. “I like the sound of that.”

“You create your own destiny. You create the outcome you want. Now, the only question is, what is it you want?”

Jimmy smiled down at you, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Already got what I want right here, sugar.”

With a smile, you kissed him. The both of you remained that way for some time, each kiss getting softer and gentler, until you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

#jimmy darling x reader #jimmy darling #evan peters #ahs freakshow #american horror story

[tyb1]

If It’s The Right Thing To Do.

Part 1

Words: 2118

Character: Seth Clearwater 

 Note: let’s imagine your Sam’s little sister 

Series List

Dialogue prompt: “What? Why would I want to go over there? If I go over there Sam would smell vampires all over me. Aren’t you guys traitors anyway.” I scoffed, I was two seconds away from hanging up the phone on him since they did leave me behind.”

*this is my first twilight imagine so be nice :)*

I stretched every muscle in my body to grab my phone that was sitting on the desk by the bed. I looked at the caller ID but it was from a number that I didn't recognize. My mom always told me not to answer those calls but I did anyway. I had the sudden urge to be bold today.

"Hello?" I rolled back on my bed to finish the stale popcorn that was at least 3 hours old.

"(Y/N)!" the voice spoke frantically over the phone. "(Y/N)....is this (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!"

I sat up on the bed trying to stop my heart from beating out of my chest. The voice sounds panic so it caused me to be panic. The voice from the phone sounded so familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"This is she....why?"

(Y/N)! This is Jake! Listen, I need you to make your way over to the Cullens house!"

"What? Why would I want to go over there? If I go over there Sam would smell vampires all over me. Aren't you guys traitors anyway." I scoffed, I was two seconds away from hanging up the phone on him since they left me behind.

I heard Jacob huff over the phone. Then the phone sounded like someone grabbed a piece of paper and started crumbling it over the microphone. I lay back down on my bed the anxiety in my chest slowly fading away. "Listen Jake I don't have time for games I-"

"Shut up the hell up Jacob! (Y/N)! It's Leah, get your ass over to the Cullens now!" And just like that, the phone hung up without any explanation as to why I have to go to the Cullens.

I sat my phone back on the desk. There was no way in hell I could go to the Cullens. For one Sam wasn't on patrol tonight and two he would smell them on me if I ever decided to come back. "Those are two good reasons for me to stay in tonight." But why would they call me to come over to the Cullens when they knew for a fact I wasn't allowed near them........."

Seth

I jumped from my bed throwing on a hoodie and some pajama pants. I could barely maintain my breathing, There was something wrong with Seth I just felt it in my soul. Something bad probably happened to him and I wasn't there to prevent it.

I slowly walked out of my room seeing that all the lights were off. The door to Sam's and Emily's room was slightly opened. The sound of Sam's snores filled the air. I slowly closed the door then crept down the hallway to the keys.

"We only have one chance to let's make the most of it," I muttered to myself, I grabbed the keys from the shelf while trying not to step on the wood that creaked. I quickly made my way to the back door closing it softly.

"Okay, now the easy part is over." All I had to do now was get in my car and drive to the Cullens. What I was doing right now could coat me all the respect the pack has for me. If I stepped off this property Sam could label me as a traitor right along with Jake, Seth, and Leah.

"It's now or never if Sam hates me for what I'm doing so be it. Seth needs me right now." I mustered up all my courage to drive off the reserve. The drive to the Cullens was so agonizing. The only thing I could think about was the fight that caused us to be distant. We've never fought and when we did we'd make up instantly. This time I was the cause of it, his heart broke in front of me and I did nothing about it. I never meant to say the harsh words but I wanted him to hurt just like he was hurting me.

*Flashback*

I ran behind Seth as he ran behind Jacob. He claimed that he was leaving my brother's pack to join Jacobs pack because "it was the right thing to do". At first, I thought he was being delusional but now that I'm running after him I knew he was being serious.

"Seth come back!" He stopped running causing me to bump into his toned back.

He grabbed my shoulders trying to turn me back towards the reservation."No (Y/N)! I have to do this, go back to Sam!"

I bit his hand then shoved him away."I'm not staying there unless you're with me, Seth!" He shook his head then ran farther into the woods.

"Seth if you leave me then I'll never forgive you!" I began to cry then the cries became sobs. I watched him through my blurry vision as he stopped mid-run. I knew if he stepped foot off the reserve onto the Cullens I would never see him again. Sam would ban me from ever seeing him again because he turned his back on the pack.

Jacob appeared behind a tree watching the whole situation."Seth, are you willing to go against your family, the pack, and your sister?"

Seth turned to Jacob with fire in his eyes. "If it's the right thing to do."

"You'd even turn your back on (Y/N)?"

Seth turned to me, staring into my eyes. It was like I didn't recognize him anymore. Those bubbly brown eyes of his were no longer the same.

"Like I said if it's the right thing to do."

My whole world stopped. Hearing those words come out of my lover's mouth felt like someone just gutted my heart out. My heart was telling me to say one thing while my brain was telling me to say another.

"Seth Clearwater, I hate you!" The words felt so wrong but so right at the same time. I turned my back to him so he wouldn't see me cry anymore.

"You don't mean that (Y/N)! You love me!"

I turned to him with pure hate in my eyes. "I can't love someone who's dead to me."

I ran as fast as my legs could take me. I heard him running after me screaming his voice cracking every time he called out to me. I never looked behind he was a traitor now and he said it to the world, his back was now turned on me.

*EOF*

I wiped the tears from my face as I drove farther off the reserve. Seth and I bond was stronger than any other relationship in the pack. We went from friends to lovers to enemies by force. Now I have to face him. It'll be the first time we've spoken in 2 months.

I got out of the car with my heart pounding profusely. I looked up at the house, Jasper, and Emmet stood at the door to greet me. I nodded to both of them then made my way to the living room. Jacob was sitting on the couch nervously shaking his leg while Bella was pacing back and forth. A piercing scream came out of nowhere. Everyone turned their attention upstairs to where the scream came from. I knew something was up when I saw Rosalie with a guilty expression on her face.

"What happened......why did that sound like Seth?" I didn't bother to sit nor make friends with them. I walk straight into the living room each step I took became bolder and bolder. I sat there staring at them but no one was talking so I decided to make my way upstairs where the scream came from.

Jacob ran to grab me before I could make it to where Seth was. I turned to glare at him as he tightened his grip around my arm."(Y/N)! Wait! Don't go up there not just yet....wait until Carlisle gives us the clear."

"Then tell me what happened to him, Jake."

Jacob sighed, "Listen Bella and I got into an argument things got a bit out of hand and Seth got hurt."

"How did Seth get hurt?"

"Bella accidentally threw him into a tree."

I shot a glare at Bella. "How do you accidentally throw someone into a tree!"

"(Y/N) I honestly didn't mean to. I'm so sorry I don't know what else to do." Bella walked over to me with an apologetic look. The glare that was cast upon my face never left.

I looked around at all the Cullens and Jake "None of you tried to stop her. You just let her throw someone who is so innocent and pure into a fucking tree."

I left without saying another word to them. The journey to the room felt so long but yet it was so short. I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans before I knocked on the door. I heard groans from the other side of the door. My heart sank when I heard him scream again. The door opened revealing Carlisle and Esme, they were both smiling sweetly at me.

Esme hugged me which I gladly returned back. "(Y/N) it's so good to see you. I'm sorry that we had to meet again in unfortunate circumstances."

"I know, I would come to visit more often but my brother would have my head." I began to shift uncomfortably on my feet. I tried to peek behind them but Carlisle's tall built body blocked my way.

Carlisle coughed, "We're trying to make him as comfortable as possible but you can have a minute with him." He stepped aside letting me into the room. "We also gave him some morphine to ease the pain so he may be a tad bit sleepy."

I nodded my head before I entered the room. My gaze was fixed on the floorboard. I was too scared to look at him.

"(Y/N), I'm so happy to see you."

I gasped when I saw his bruised chest. I ran over to the side of the bed where he laid. The little skin that was showing was now purple, blue, and swollen the rest was covered with bandages. I went to touch his arm to comfort him but he pulled back screaming out in pain."Seth! Are you okay? Oh my god look at your chest!"

"(Y/N) you actually came!" I could tell from his eyes that he was still in disbelief that I was standing in front of him.

"Of course I would come." I began to run my hair through his hair trying to make him as comfortable as possible. I sat down near him being careful not to touch any of his body parts.

"I'm tired (Y/N)...please stay here until I wake up."

I jumped from the bed staring at him as if he had lost his mind. "There's no way I can stay here without Sam knowing that I am missing Seth, I have to go back."

He placed his bruised hand on top of mine trying to intertwine them. Seth had a genuine smile on his face, "Don't go, stay here. I'll deal with Sam once I wake up."

I sighed as I looked back and forth between the door and Seth. I didn't want to leave him but I couldn't afford Sam coming out here dragging me back home. Everyone would look at me with disgust if they smelled the Cullens on me.

"Seth I honestly don't know if this is the right thing to do."

"Trust me (Y/N) it's the right thing to do."

I laughed at his corny remark. I knew without asking him, that was our way of making up since the fight. Seth rolled the blankets off of him ushering me to get under. At first, I wanted to reject but I knew he would somehow convince me that it was okay. I rested my head on the pillow that was next to his. I immediately relaxed once I felt the heat from his body come upon mine.

Seth sighed, he tried to roll over to face me but I placed my hand on his cheek to stop him.

"What are you trying to do?"

He grunted, "I'm trying to apologize for what I said two weeks ago."

I placed a chaste kiss on his lips, he laughed sweetly then kissed me back.

"I guess I'm forgiven."

"I could never be mad at you Seth Clearwater."

If I was being honest with myself I was actually contradicting myself.  At first, I was really mad at him. I even went as far as to rip up our pictures. Now looking back I actually regret everything I said to him and did. "Seth I'm sorry too, I should have never said the things I said."

He laughed, "It's okay, I could never be mad at you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)"

#seth clearwater #seth clearwater imagine #seth #wolfpack #seth clearwater x reader #seth clearwater one shot #wolf pack #wolf pack imagine #wolf pack x reader #wolf pack one shot #werewolf #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #jacob black #paul lahote #sam uley #embry call

[straightlikewetspaghetti]

The Princess and the Knight

Pairings: Poppy x MC (Bea Kingsley/Hughes)

Warnings: Mature themes, mention of death

Word count: 5391

A/N: I tried to fit the whole book into one chapter, so it's controlled chaos.

@cloud9in

"Where has that girl gone with my little tarts."

In the afternoon there was quite a commotion in the royal kitchen, as for some unexplained reasons, the tarts specially prepared for the royal afternoon tea, were going missing. The servants were accusing each other, pointing out which one of them was the biggest glutton or which one had recently gained the most weight. Such behavior among servants was not surprising. No one there trusted each other, but everyone knew how to pretend. It was sad, but what the king and queen do not know, they do not regret.

The truth turned out to be different and when the eldest of them, Ina, was left alone in the kitchen, she waited a moment and looked towards the window where the tarts were cooling down. The place was chosen deliberately by her, because she knew exactly how to catch thieves in the act. It wasn't long before the two little hands blindly began to reach for the treats, but this time they were caught by the older woman.

"Gotcha rascals." saying this, Ina pulled the thieves carefully through the window, discovering it was none other than her daughter and future princess. "Princess Poppy, Bea, you know very well what I think of your food escapades." even though she tried to sound threatening, her voice was very docile. She loved these children too much, even if Bea was not her own and Poppy was a future princess.

"Ina! How did you know it was us?" Bea asked innocently, grinning from ear to ear, unaware that her lips were covered in crumbs. Her little smile always made the hard work Ina had at the castle, worth it. She was proud of her, even if Bea was a little troublemaker.

The woman shook her head and laughed briefly, wiping her daughter's mouth with a tissue. "Your giggling can be heard from the hallway, I really have no idea how the rest of the servants didn't figure it out."

"The rest of them don't know us as well as you do." said Poppy, who had been sitting quietly until then. Her whole face was covered with a blush, and her eyes were fixed on the tips of her shoes. She looked ashamed of her act and this childlike innocence, caught the older woman by the heart.

A gentle smile entered Ina's face. It always surprised her how the Queen's daughter addressed her, with such respect, when she herself was higher up in the hierarchy. "You can call me Ina, princess." the woman reached into her apron for the cookies and gave them each one. "Come on, get out of here."

Bea saluted with a wide grin and, with the cookie in her mouth, pulled her friend along with her, who surprised, almost fell onto the countertop. Ina smiled to herself seeing the bond that brought the two girls together. They needed each other more than they could have hoped for, but that wasn't her story to tell.

When the two of them were outside, they looked at each other and burst out laughing thunderously, almost spitting cookie crumbs at each other. Falling on the soft green grass, they grabbed their stomachs almost unable to catch their breath. They couldn't have known that moments like this, would be worth their weight in gold.

"I need to learn to sneak better if I want to become a knight." Bea said contentedly, extending her hand toward the sky as if she had a sword in it. She looked between her fingers at the almost clear sky, imagining her parents looking at her with pride and faith.

Ever since Bea learned how to speak, she had only repeated that she wanted to follow in her parents' footsteps and become the best knight in the entire kingdom.

Unfortunately, she never got to meet them.

Her mother died in childbirth and her father died soon after, defending the honor of the kingdom. She was looked after by the eldest of the servants, Ina Kingsley. The woman always told her stories of her parents' lives, how her father was the bravest of the knights of the royal guard and her mother the best strategist.

This made little Bea feel any kind of bond with her family.

"I want to be a knight too!" cried Poppy behind her, mimicking her posture and almost falling down as the dress she was in, restricted her movements. She hated the clothes, but as a future queen, her opinion was worth as much as nothing. She knew that once she became a queen, that would have to change.

Bea giggled as she looked at her friend and nodded. "You can't be a knight. You're a princess."

Poppy rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, thrusting her breast forward. She could be anything she wanted, she was a princess after all. But as colorful as it sounded in practice it had no such benefits. Being a princess meant being locked in a golden cage, like some exotic bird.

And she couldn't wait to finally break free.

As the queen combed her hair to sleep, she always said how important it was for Poppy to get an education so she could follow in her footsteps and rule the kingdom. That wasn't what the blonde wanted, the vision of having power was never something important to her. For her, the most important thing was the moments she spent in the company of her best friend and the opportunity to change her kingdom for the better.

"I want to be a knight like you Bea, and explore the world with you."

At those words, the brunette turned towards the blonde and a radiant smile graced her lips. She was sure of Poppy like no one else, but the words she spoke touched her deeply, enough to settle a pleasant feeling in her stomach, that she hadn't felt since her father's death. In a flash, she hugged her tightly and wouldn't let go for any reason. 

A short time later, Bea pulled away from her and extended a small finger in her direction. "I, Bea Kingsley, promise to be by your side until death."

Poppy looked stunned at her friend, who was looking at her for the first time with such apparent seriousness. She felt like tears were coming to her eyes, but not of sadness, but of happiness. The way Bea was devoted to her and expected nothing in return, always grabbed her heart, even if they were still children. The brunette would always have a special place in her heart and even if it sounded selfish, she would be able to go to the ends of earth for her.

She reached out her finger and linked it with Bea's, almost choking from the happiness that was engulfing her. "I Poppy Min Sinclair promise, to be by your side until death."

The wind that was blowing around them stopped and a blissful calm descended on the world around them. Everything became meaningless as they stood like that with fingers intertwined, making their fates forever linked.

***

"Do you ever get your nose out of those books, princess?"

Poppy blinked a few times and, adjusting her glasses, looked over to where the familiar voice was coming from. She saw a wryly smiling Bea, who was in the middle of sparring with one of her friends, who was also training to become a knight. The blonde automatically ran her eyes over the girl's muscular stomach, which glistened with droplets of sweat in the sunlight, making Poppy's throat turn to a desert. Her brown hair in total disarray framed her face, sticking in places to her face reddened from exertion.

"Give her highness a rest Kingsley and focus on the fight." her companion groaned with visible annoyance on her face.

"Zoey, I would beat you even with my eyes closed." Bea bared her teeth in an even bigger smile and winked at her best friend. She managed to notice the blonde bury her face deeper into the book, before Zoey's blade sunk into her own, knocking her off balance.

"Would that mean..." replied Zoey viciously, as she slashed at Bea's legs in one motion, causing her to fall to the hard ground with a bang. She put the tip of the blade to her throat, and a smirk appeared on her face. "That you lost?"

Bea rolled her eyes, catching the hand extended towards her and efficiently rising to a standing position. Shaking off the dust, her gaze remained fixed on the blushing blonde, who continued her reading as if nothing had happened. She knew Poppy was watching her. She'd be lying if she said that wasn't her intention. The thought of the blonde watching her, put her in a very pleasant mood.

Zoey grunted significantly, reviving her in a flash.

"Let go of Kingsley, before it's too late. She's a princess and you're barely a knight." there was no malice in her voice, it was the truth in them, that hurt the brunette so badly.

But at that moment, Bea didn't give a damn

Ignoring the black-haired girl, she ran over to Poppy and with a nimble move, she squatted next to her on the bench, making the blonde's personal space no longer exist. It was their thing. Crossing their comfort zones.

"Would it hurt you if you used more grace?" Poppy grimaced, not taking her eyes off the words on the paper, which had become extremely difficult. She drew in a deep breath and it was a mistake, because the smell of the pine trees mixed with sweat hit her nostrils, almost breaking her composure.

"You love it." Bea's words were bold, and spoken in her peculiar way, almost in a half-whisper, made the hair on the blonde's arms stand up. The brunette's chest rose and fell in a rhythm, that the blonde had in her head each time she felt Bea's breast brush against her shoulder.

"I certainly do not." she grunted, trying to put some distance between her and Bea, which was nearly impossible, with the brunette's sweaty body clinging to her clothes. She was not a girl of great faith, but at this point she began to pray for her own sanity. Poppy was really trying to focus on her lecture, but in this situation her thoughts were just buzzing. The sight of Bea, sweaty from exertion, standing in the sunlight like a goddess, was carved into her memory and now she was right next to her, literally at arm's length.

Her thoughts really were unladylike at that moment.

Before she had time to say or do anything, she heard quiet snoring. Bea managed to fall asleep, snuggling into her shoulder. With a careful motion, she combed through the brunette's hair with her fingers, letting the strands fall freely over her shoulder. Even if sweaty, her hair was incredibly soft. Her face looked so peaceful that it moved something in Poppy and her face curved into a serene smile.

Maybe she do love it.

***

"I hereby knight thee Bea of the House Hughes. Lift thy sword high and use it for the glory of the Kingdom of Belvoir!" the great castle hall echoed with shrieks and clapping so loud, that they could wake the dead. People shouted the names of the new knights, not caring that their king and queen were looking at them.

Bea had waited her whole life for those words and now that it was happening, she couldn't believe it. She felt an incredible joy inside her and even something like a strange warmth, that she recognized as her parents' pride from above. Everything she had dreamed of was at her fingertips.

Everything but one thing.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Poppy looking at her with the biggest smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She looked phenomenal, even if her cheeks were covered with streams of tears and her skin was reddened. Right behind her, Bea could hear her mother blowing her nose, and in that moment she was overwhelmed with pride.

Things began to look promising.

***

The ballroom was huge and there was general splendor. There was food all around. Musicians pouring out all their soul, getting people in the mood. All the inhabitants of the Belvoir kingdom were invited to the castle without exception, as tonight's feast was for everyone. Today everyone was treated as equals, regardless of their background or wealth. The king and queen would never have agreed to this, if not for the influential play of a particular blonde.

Poppy was determined to find Bea in the crowd, which seemed almost impossible in the prevailing hustle and bustle. She moved among the people with regal grace, forgetting for a moment that as a future princess, all she had to do was say one word. She found her near the snack table absorbed in conversation with her fellow knights.

"And then I told her, don't worry the hay can be easily pulled out of... Oh princess." Zoey stopped in mid sentence and bowed seeing the blonde.

Bea turned her head to see the satisfied blonde slip her hand under her arm and tug lightly on it. She looked spectacular in her ball gown and stood out among the people attending the party. Or maybe she always stood out in her eyes. Either way, Poppy looked so good, that next to her in her armor, Bea felt like a slacker.

"Can I steal her for a few moments?" even if Poppy asked, she was already in the process of dragging Bea to the parquet floor, ignoring the strange looks of people around her.

Zoey sighed deeply while leaning against the shoulder of Alex, who was standing next to her and also looked mortified. They both knew they wouldn't be able to protect Bea, but they could always hope that the brunette herself would mature enough, to see that the feelings she had for Poppy, weren't enough to form a relationship.

"One of them is going to end up with a broken heart."

Poppy's laughter echoed around the room as she twirled in the embrace of the equally contented brunette. Her dress rose and fell freely, mesmerizing anyone who looked at her. Bea, despite the uncomfortable outfit, tried her best to fit the blonde. She didn't even realize that it wasn't the clothes that always made them fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

Bea was aware of the stares people were giving them. Some jealous, some just outraged how a princess could dance with a mere knight. She tried her best to ignore them, but one look in particular made her hair stand on end.

"I get the impression that Lord Carter feels like poking my eyes out with the spoon he's currently eating." Bea arched Poppy's body, by tilting her back slightly and letting her see exactly what she was talking about.

Poppy just shrugged her shoulders, completely ignoring the murderous look the man was giving them. Focusing her attention only on the brunette in front of her, she leaned towards her mysteriously, making the whole room cease to exist for them.

"Meet me at our place, when the moon is at its highest point in the sky." with those words on her lips, Poppy bowed elegantly and with a hypnotizing sway of her hips, she walked off in the opposite direction, leaving confused Bea alone with her thoughts. 

***

Besides the crickets, the silence was pierced by the clatter of hooves on the grass bathed in moonlight. The horse was being ridden by none other than Bea, who with curiosity and undisguised excitement was heading for the place where she would meet Poppy. She slowed down her horse, as she began to see a silhouette sitting with its back to her in the distance, under a familiar tree. 

"Poppy." she said as if to make sure it was definitely her. When the blonde turned toward her and gave her one of her smiles, her heart beat harder. "What is the meaning of..." her words were interrupted when the blonde closed her mouth in a sloppy kiss.

Instinctively, she reached for the blonde's waist, catching it and earning a quiet moan of approval from her throat. On the one hand, she felt an incredible warmth growing inside her, and on the other, a slight embarrassment about the whole situation. When Poppy pulled away from her, they were both red and breathless.

"Where did you even learn that?" the brunette asked, trying to calm her breathing. She touched her lips with her fingertips and felt a slight pain, and for some reason, it was pleasant feeling.

"I read about it in a book." Poppy said without taking her eyes off the brunette still touching herself on her lower lip. It wasn't a lie. When she was old enough, she found books in the library, about love and passion, that she had never known before. With each novel she read, the desire to experience it grew in her, and slowly she began to understand, that what the characters felt, she felt herself.

Bea looked at Poppy with undisguised interest. She felt that this kiss was just a foretaste of what she could experience, but she wasn't sure, if she was ready for it. And worse, she didn't want to disappoint Poppy with her lack of experience. "Show me more." she said, before she could bite her tongue.

Poppy perked up upon hearing those words and her eyes grew misty. She bit her lower lip, as she brought her lips close to the skin on the brunette's neck. She could feel the girl standing in front of her shaking all over, so for reassurance she grabbed her hand with one hand and placed the other on her neck. The contrast between Poppy's hot hand and the cool skin of Bea's neck was incredible, which aroused the blonde even more.

She pressed her lips carefully against her skin, feeling the brunette's pulse quicken instantly. A quiet whine came to her ears that felt like music to her. Faster and faster, a lust was building in her body, which she fought off with increasing difficulty. She felt as if she had been waiting for this moment all her life, right there with Bea, in the clearing, where they shared every bit of news, good or bad, with each other.

When Poppy pressed in a little harder, Bea's legs gave way under her and she pulled them both to the ground, her body lessening the momentum with which Poppy would have hit the ground. After a moment of silence, they both burst out laughing, just as they used to do when they were children. This time, however, Bea slipped her hand into the blonde's hair, causing her to fall instantly silent. The air was getting heavier and heavier and the unspoken words were begging to come out.

"Let me make love to you tonight."

It was hard to tell which one of them said that sentence, or maybe they both did, but in the flurry of scattered clothes, only moaning and panting could be heard. They did whatever their instincts told them to do, sucking, kissing, biting, touching every newfound spot on their bodies. Whatever boundary of shame they had between them, crumbled like a house of cards, making their two bodies become one.

That night neither of them would forget for the rest of their lives.

***

"I think I love you." Bea said thoughtlessly, surprising herself with what she said. The words were rather rushed and she should have thought about them more, but in the spur of the moment, she couldn't do otherwise. Poppy's body tensed in her embrace and Bea felt the weight of the dark clouds that began to appear in the sky, on her skin

After a brief moment, Poppy got off the ground and began nervously throwing her clothes on, almost completely confusing their sides. Bea watched this with visible surprise on her face. She rose from the ground, feeling a sudden chill sweep over her entire body, and following in the blonde's footsteps, she too got dressed. She could feel the storm approaching.

"Bea..." Poppy began in a tone that froze the blood in Bea's veins. The blonde grabbed her head and dropped it low, letting strands of hair cover her face. She looked like she was trying everything to get away from the brunette, even though the she was literally standing in front of her. The air between them was getting heavier and not in that pleasant way. "I'm engaged."

Bea felt the ground slip out from under her feet. As if someone had taken her heart and thrown it to the dogs to eat. As if someone had plunged a hundred knives into her, and she couldn't just die. Whatever words she had in her head dissipated, because while she was ready for anything, she wasn't ready for this one.

They didn't speak a word to each other again that night.

***

"I'm so sorry about your mother Poppy." Bea's voice was sincere despite the pain she'd been carrying inside her since that memorable night, but she loved the blonde so much that she could push away all her negative feelings, just to be there for her. She embraced her tightly and squeezed her petite figure which was shaking from crying.

Her heart though already broken before, was breaking again as she heard the blonde's quiet sobs into her shoulder. The assassination of the queen was so unexpected, that the kingdom couldn't assimilate the situation for a long time. The king locked himself in his chamber immersed in his despair, and Poppy's future husband took care of the kingdom.

"Isn't that adorable." the brunette would recognize that hate-filled voice anywhere and her hands reflexively tightened on the blonde. She hated this man with all her might and not just because he had taken the love of her life from her, but because he was a tyrant and no one could see that but her.

"Lord Carter." she bowed trying not to contort her face too much.

"Prince Carter to you, plebeian dog." he loved hearing his voice, especially when he was oppressing the people around him. He was a devil in human skin, masquerading perfectly among the common folk. People adored him, but behind closed doors there were no more illusions. "You can speak only when asked to." 

"Carter please." Poppy begged, trying to appeal to a soft side of him, that she knew he didn't have. She couldn't idly watch as the person she loved most in the world was oppressed, just for being alive. Even though she knew it wouldn't do anything, she was aware that Bea could see that Poppy was making an effort for her. She believed that one day she would forgive her.

Bea looked at Poppy and made it clear to her that the blonde should let go of whatever she was doing. To her inner distaste, she gave in and bowed again. "Forgive me, Prince." the words burned in her throat, but she couldn't fight him alone. She looked again at the blonde, whose expression was unreadable. "I'll see you later, your highness." she turned on her heel and with a springy step began to walk away, when a loud rubbishy laugh ripped into her.

"I don't think so, lovebirds." his laugh seeped venom all the way into the brunette's bones, making her feel almost physical pain. His face looked like that of a maniac, who was preparing to commit a terrible act. "I'm sending Bea to the front, along with the rest of the knights."

Bea closed her eyes and sighed as quietly as she could. It was what she had always wanted after all, to defend the kingdom, but why did the vision of fulfilling her duty not bring her as much joy as it had as a child? She turned towards the prince and looked at him, ignoring the terrified blonde who was covering her mouth with her hand.

"You can't!" escaped Poppy's lips before she clamped her hand over her mouth again, but Carter only smiled unsympathetically and sent an icy stare in the brunette's direction.

"Well, I can. Bea as a knight has a duty to the kingdom that she is unlikely to want to break." with those words he locked her in a trap, crushing her spirit and cutting off her wings. He was aware of what he was doing, of how much he was destroying her, but it spurred him on, gave him strength to live, he fed on the suffering of others, and who would give him more of it than the would-be lover of his future wife?

Bea saluted and, ignoring the burning pain throughout her body this time, she left the hallway, leaving Poppy and Carter alone. The man turned to his future wife and slapped her on the cheek, the smack echoing through the empty room.

"You will not disrespect me in the presence of servants." he growled at her, causing her to curl even more into herself. There was not an ounce of pity in him, let alone compassion. "Your frivolity will get you both killed."

***

In the evening fog at the castle gate, Bea was unable to see anything. Even as she tried to stretch her senses to the limit, she felt as if she were limited. She hated that feeling. She hated feeling at all. She stroked the snoot of her horse, which stood beside her, waiting for the sign to set off. The only creature that remained loyal to her.

The rest of the knights were getting ready in the garrison, only she was standing guard for practically no reason. Maybe in her sick mind, she was trying to punish herself for being reckless and not thinking about the consequences. She heard a rustle behind her and not thinking much she drew her sword towards where it was coming from.

"I could have killed you." she sighed, seeing that on the end of her blade was none other than Poppy. The blonde looked exhausted and confused, but Bea was in the same state, maybe that's why she didn't feel any strong sympathy.

"Maybe you should." she spoke up calmly, not even flinching, as she felt the blade touch her throat. She was tired. So tired that the vision of life no longer mattered to her. Not when the only person she had left, was about to leave her for certain death.

Bea sheathed the sword and stepping away from her horse she approached Poppy. Without any emotion on her face, she placed her hand on the blonde's face, who involuntarily nuzzled into her. It was the first warmth Bea had felt in a long time and somewhere deep down she felt a growing longing.

The blonde sighed on the verge of crying, her breathing breaking, almost nearing the end. She tried to stay neutral but couldn't do it any longer. Without thinking much she jumped closer to the brunette and locked her lips in a kiss. She felt a momentary resistance, but Bea didn't want to fight anymore either, returning the kiss and pouring everything, she had felt during this time of being separated, into it.

"I can't..." Poppy mumbled between kisses, wanting to get something off her chest but unable to pull away from the brunette. "I can't lose you like I lost my mother." she didn't even notice when tears started to fall from her eyes. Bea carefully kissed away every single drop, making the renewed pain that was settling inside her less painful.

Bea pressed her forehead against the blonde's allowing herself a moment of weakness. She slipped her hand under her armor and took a moment to fumble around in it, pulling out a necklace. She carefully placed it on the unsuspecting blonde, who had her eyes closed in contemplation.

"It's the only thing I have left of my parents." the brunette whispered quietly, not wanting to scare Poppy. "I want you by touching this, to always feel the warmth of my touch. By looking at this, to always see those eyes looking at you with adoration. By knowing about this, to remember that there was someone in the world who loved you sincerely."

***

How many sleepless nights it had been, Poppy couldn't count. Between her agony and the lack of meaning in her life, she had no occupation. She locked herself in her chamber, knowing that her fiancé would take care of everything anyway and not needing her at all, not that she needed him herself.

Her father awakened from his grief at the perfect time for her to plunge into hers. Instinctively, she grabbed the necklace that had always been with her. It was like a talisman, the only thing keeping her alive. The last spark of hope that she would come back and teach her to love again.

A messenger ran into her room unannounced and nearly passed out from lack of air. She rose from her seat and looked at the man with compassion.

"Princess... Is... Answer..." the man could barely catch his breath, which worried Poppy, who sensed that the information he had, must be really important. "Knight Bea... Is dead."

No one remembers what was louder, the scream of agony she gave out of herself, or the impact with which the man fell.

Promise to be by your side until death...

***

She hated being his accessory. Every time he embraced her, she felt a million worms come out of his sleeve and get under her skin. She was sick of it, but she could no longer ignore her responsibilities. The lives of thousands of people depended on her actions. She had been deaf to their pleas long enough.

So at the ball her father had organized, she tried to mingle with the crowd, listen to requests, offer advice, and apologize to those who had suffered. She felt she had failed her mother, but she was ready to change that. She was ready to prove to Bea that she was not weak. Bea. That name quivered in her head too often, echoing and making her bleed. She didn't forget, she didn't want to forget, she remembered, she couldn't remember. Everything she felt tangled with each other in endless knots that tightened inside her.

She was sure that she had managed to process her grief, but at the thought of it, tears threatened to flow from her eyes. She blinked a few times, trying not to look suspicious. Fortunately, her subjects were too busy with their free appetizers to pay attention to her.

The doors to the ballroom opened with a bang and the sounds of clanging armor could be heard. Everyone looked towards where the commotion was coming from and were stunned. At the head of the gathering was none other than the much lamented Bea Kingsley.

"Traitor!" she shouted, aiming an arrow straight at Carter's heart, who fell stiffly to the ground, drenched in his own blood. She dropped the bow and pulled out a paper with trembling hands, which she lifted high into the air. "This letter is proof of treason! Prince Carter plotted and he was responsible for the Queen's murder!" Bea handed the piece of paper to the first better citizen, who squirmed and passed it to the next, until the letter reached the King, who looked at his son-in-law's body and spat on it showing no respect.

The king began to announce something, but everything around Bea fell silent as her eyes met a familiar warm brown. With the remnants of her strength, she began walking slowly towards her. The blonde did the same. The gawkers who stood between the two parted to give them more room, watching the whole situation with commitment. Bea reached out to touch Poppy's cheek with a trembling hand. The familiar warmth gave her strength.

"You are just as beautiful as the day we made love under the stars and the day I had to leave." she said boldly, her eyes glittering with the emotion that had taken over her entire body. She had forgotten the exhaustion, the betrayal, and the hardships that had accompanied her. All that mattered now was the woman standing before her. The woman whose fate she had been bound to since childhood.

Poppy burst out crying as she cuddled into the brunette's body as tightly as she could. She couldn't believe she had her back after all these years. All of them full of pain and agony seemed nonexistent. "I love you. I love you so much." she whispered like a mantra unable to stop, afraid that she was about to disappear.

Bea chuckled, the sound so familiar from their childhood and yet so distant. "I love you too."

#poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #zoey wade #ina kingsley #queen b #qb #choices fic #choices #playchoices

[itoldsunset]

rewatching ipytm episode 2: thoughts

apologies in advance for this very messy, very long bullet scene-by-scene commentary!

summary: this was a very hard episode to watch and rewatch. the frustration with teh is real, the hurt for oh-aew is real. but the fear of change and abandonment, and the fear of admitting your own insecurities, is SO coming of age and i love that we get to see teh grappling with what happens when the idealistic vision you had for your life slowly starts to crumble.

also, this episode (and possibly the entirety of part 2) was 100% the writers' and p'meen's love letter to comm arts students/graduates, and even though i am a total outsider to that world, it really touched my heart to see the diversity of experiences and struggles reflected here.

i love that we see how much closer teh has become with jai and khim!! this doesn't translate in the subs, but i thought it was interesting how teh used respectful pronouns with them when he was a first-year and now for the most part uses rude (familiar) pronouns with them as a second-year, even though they're still technically his seniors. i think it goes to show how close they've become since he first joined the drama club.

goy was so fucking CUTE in that scene when she said "oh, lots of boys are peeking at me, i'm shy" i think i'm in love 😭 also the cinematography of that scene!!

this episode does such a great job at making you feel uncomfortable along with the characters. i hated how uncomfortable teh was at the birthday party, and i could feel how out of place he felt there.

when mangpong talks about how easy it is for celebrities to make money and teh is clearly offended by that and speaks up against it (which results in yet another awkward uncomfortable moment), i feel like he's speaking up on behalf of khim who we later realize is basically his idol and the person he identifies the most with. i feel like p'meen and the writing team are really trying to represent the lives of people who go into communication arts, especially those who go in with an interest in performing arts. and for me that scene with mangpong communicates two things: 1) the defensiveness that comes with having your chosen career path misunderstood or reduced into something that's easy money, and 2) how close-knit and protective the drama club is of each other, because teh speaking up in defense of actors to me feels like he's defending this identity they all share as people who are struggling to make it in the industry.

oh-aew is SO sweet. getting a tattoo that resembles your partner's name gives me so much anxiety, but i guess he's 19 and has always been sure of his feelings so it does make sense for him. at first glance teh's reaction really just makes it sound like he's against tattoos, drinking, all that, like he's super old-fashioned, but it's not REALLY about the tattoo and we learn that later when they have their big fight and he blows up with all the nitpicky little things he's noticed about all the ways oh-aew has changed. i thought it was so cute how au basically showed off his tattoo to open the conversation for oh-aew to show teh his tattoo though. we love a supportive friend group!!!

"this tattoo is pretty. thank you." this is teh being as genuine as he can, as someone who is seriously not in touch with his own feelings and can't understand why he's so upset at oh-aew getting a tattoo. because again it's not the tattoo itself that's the problem, but what it represents for teh, which is oh-aew's world slowly expanding to include people and things that are foreign to teh, and he worries that one day that world won't have a place for him anymore.

drunk oh-aew speaking mandarin, and teh taking care of him!!! the only fluff we got all episode and i will cherish it forever and ever, like the aquarium scene from episode one. the fact that teh brought over the stuffed animal, kissed oh-aew on the forehead, and then decided to sleep over on the floor next to him? making him kimchi jjigae? so soft!! our boy has got a lot of issues to work through but he loves oh-aew for sure.

the scene where oh-aew is receiving feedback on his performance from his professor is so... oof. the fact that his classmate got positive feedback for portraying a gay man in a way that isn't stereotypical (read: masculine? i wonder?) and the fact that oh-aew was critiqued for unsuccessfully portraying the tone and mannerisms of a man who doesn't understand gay people? it's a bit subtler than what we hear from the casting director but i swear it's the same shit. and it really doesn't surprise me at all to see oh-aew not believe in himself and his ability to perform because of it.

teh saying "both of us" and being so excited about their casting opportunity!! 😭 and also, khim being such a sweetheart and helping them get this opportunity in the first place!

the contrast with how happy oh-aew looked when the advertising professor told him he had the right answer, compared to how torn down he looked after being critiqued and told he got a C by his acting professor (in front of the whole class!!). which tbh for me is subtle commentary on how much influence professors have on students' self-confidence and whether they believe in their own ability to succeed in their field.

the commentary on sexism and homophobia in the thai entertainment industry!! khim being told she looked too old, not smart enough, not believable, honestly all coded ways of saying she didn't fit in with the beauty standard they were going for. and while khim is saying this we see oh-aew is already getting nervous, because he's already had his confidence shaken by his experiences in class. and then when we get to the scene where the casting director says he's too girly and asks him to act more manly, we see oh-aew's mood shift completely, and honestly it hurts to watch. pp did such an amazing job here because i felt it, like the way oh-aew's eyes change, and then he swallows right after, and how unsettled he sounds trying to deliver the line again after hearing that critique.

oh-aew listening to khim tell teh about how hard it's been for her to break into the industry is so impactful, because you can already tell what he's thinking. is this really worth it? do i want this enough to endure people telling me over and over again i'm not masculine enough for them? is that going to be me in the future, being rejected from hundreds of castings and still not making it?

when teh hugs khim and says "we will get through this together," it's so clear that he identifies with her struggle. teh is someone who has worked his ass off to get to where he is (remember his fight with his mom where she said he lost sleep and was getting sick from all the studying he did?), and he sees himself in khim and her passion and ambition. meanwhile, we see oh-aew really doubting whether this is the right path for him.

i love how teh immediately asked if oh-aew was okay after oh-aew told him about what the casting director said, and how teh reassured him that he liked oh-aew the way he is. it's like, he so clearly cares for oh-aew and loves him so much and sometimes knows how to show it well, and then other times just fucks it up. it's so real??

oh-aew deciding to change majors three months into it is a very oh-aew thing to do, and what i mean by that is, this is a character who is super in touch with himself and his feelings and trusts in himself to make the right decisions. he's not afraid to change his mind (remember when he was testing out his feelings for bas and teh and then turned down bas once he knew?), he's bold and goes for what he wants. and i envy that about his character so much. but it makes me sad to know that the thing that was making him nervous during this scene was the fact that he was worried about how teh would react. like he went through all that questioning and critique himself, to finally discover his answer, only to now have to worry about whether his partner will accept him.

teh, on the other hand, has had his whole life planned out since forever. he feels the need to know and control everything. he has so much fear and insecurity. and he is stubborn and doesn't believe in giving up, which he believes is what oh-aew is doing. and on top of that, he sees this as another way in which he is losing oh-aew. one more thing oh-aew has in common with his friend group that doesn't include him. one more way that he's becoming a smaller part of oh-aew's world. oh-aew looked so small in the bathtub scene and i just wanted to hold him 😔

the 8 month time skip is a little jarring because of all the things we don't get to see, but i guess it makes sense if teh has been bottling up his insecurities about their relationship that it would all blow up in everyone's face in the way that it did at the dinner scene.

it was interesting to me how teh hesitated when oh-aew texted that he would join them for dinner, like teh didn't want oh-aew to come along with his drama club. and then once oh-aew arrives at the restaurant, we see that teh isn't totally happy either. it's like as much as teh feels like an outsider in oh-aew's world, he seems to also see oh-aew as an outsider in his own world too. and when top says he wanted to get into comm arts at anantasart but he didn't get in, we see teh's expression and it's like, a reminder that he gave up that spot for oh-aew, that teh didn't pass the admissions exam either, and that oh-aew who did pass has now "given up" on it (in teh's eyes) to pursue another major. it's like teh also feels betrayed on behalf of all the performing arts kids who are struggling to make their passion into a career.

i feel like i sort of get why teh said all that shit about oh-aew at the dinner table now. i'm not excusing it at all, that was super shitty of him. but i wonder if it's like, this is a thing they deal with in the performing arts, people giving up because it's so hard to make it in the industry. and you watch your friends leave one by one, and it keeps causing more and more doubt in yourself about whether you can make it. and now that teh sees oh-aew as someone who's given up, he doesn't want that energy at the dinner table with his drama friends, like he wants to protect them from that and keep up with this "we can get through this together" mentality that he keeps saying. so it's easier for him to try to dismiss it as oh-aew's personality flaw, rather than a legitimate change in career path, because he's worried about how it might affect his own friends in the drama club. and we see how protective teh is of khim, when he says "what the fuck did you just say?" like he really shares an identity with his drama club and it's clear he thinks oh-aew doesn't understand it or belong there.

needless to say, i was extremely stressed that entire dinner scene which i think means the writers, p'meen, and the actors did an excellent job.

their fight scene was really amazingly done and i am just stunned by teh's response when oh-aew asks him "what if this is who i really am, would you not like me anymore?" and teh thinks about it for a bit, and says "maybe." that's him being genuine, he's not trying to hurt oh-aew in saying that, and we can see him internally asking himself that question. but he doesn't know the answer, because he can't even be honest with himself about why he's upset at oh-aew. so he says the first thing he thinks which is an honest "maybe," and then he immediately regrets his words, and at some point he's going to have to learn that he can't just say the first thing that comes to mind, when other people's feelings are at stake. also, the fucking piano that plays? the violin? goddamn.

khim's character is really here to teach teh, and all of us, some life lessons. she is so real. her struggles are so real. life is fucking hard, and it's not fair, and no matter how hard you work or try you can't have it all. "the conditions for our lives are not the same" holy shit yes. she wants to take care of her family and her dog, she can't just think of herself. i feel like teh, who comes from a relatively modest background but has always had hoon as a father figure to support his mom, probably doesn't feel that same burden.

teh being frustrated and going to the bridge was beautiful. the crying hug scene at the dorm was so beautiful.

i love that in the end, teh finally owns up to his own insecurities and apologizes and admits he was wrong. of course, this was after oh-aew reached out to him first. i think it's totally realistic that we see his growth happening kind of slowly, but before the series ends he's going to need to be the first one to reach out, because oh-aew can't hold all of that on his own.

the last score when they hug under the moonlight, i love it!!

#ipytm #i promised you the moon #ipytm spoilers #textpost #i hope someone sees this lmao i know it's 3am dfslkjghfgjlk

[spartanguard]

game changers

Summary: Emma’s son’s hockey team—the one she started when got cut from another—is about to play for the state championship. Along the way, she found assistance—and attraction—with the grumpy ice rink manager where they practice. Winning isn’t the only thing on the line; hearts are, too. (aka the Mighty Ducks: Game Changers AU no one asked for.)

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @thesschesthair​!!!!!!!! wishing you the most awesome, amazing, furry birthday yet!!! After our conversations about the Mighty Ducks series—especially that scene at the end—I couldn’t resist throwing this little thing together in honor of the day. Hope you like it, and thank you for being such an amazing friend!! Love you!!!!

1.6k words | rated G

If someone had told Emma at the beginning of the season that they’d be here, she’d have laughed hysterically and asked what drugs they were on, because she wanted some. There was no way this little ragamuffin team—that, honestly, was half started out of spite—would even make it to the state tournament, let alone to the final.

Yet, here they were, about to face off against the elite team that had cut her son from the roster before the season even started. (She could grumble on for days about the state of youth hockey and the money involved and any other number of social injustices, but what it really amounted to was how it highlighted her own feelings of inadequacy as a young-ish single mom next to all the rich ladies who already had college advisors for their middle schoolers.) 

The puck hadn’t even dropped and she was already a bundle of nervous energy, as much as the pre-teens around her in the locker room. It hadn’t been easy, getting here—god, it hadn’t been that long ago some of these kids could barely even skate—but this was more than they had ever anticipated. She knew she should be dispensing some sage advice, but it’s not like she was ever that experienced in this kind of situation; foster kids didn’t have much of an opportunity to participate in organized sports (part of why she’d been so adamant to make sure Henry had these opportunities).

But then an increasingly familiar presence appeared at her side, gave her a sideways grin she was growing to love, and addressed the kids with a speech that was the perfect combination of encouraging and celebratory.

It may have been a stroke of luck that she found Killian Jones in that run-down ice arena, because none of this would have worked without him. 

And the grin Henry was giving her as they headed out to the rink was worth all of it.

(The way her heart jumped every time Killian was near? Pleasant side effect. But also: not a priority right now.)

The team filed out of the room, leaving her to bring up the rear. ���You alright, love?” Killian asked, coming up alongside her, concern furrowing his expressive brow.

“Yeah, just nervous,” she admitted. “Never thought we’d even be here, but now that we are—is it wrong that I really hope we win?” Logically, she knew she’d proven whatever point she’d already set out to prove—that hockey could still be fun, that money was no replacement for drive, that she was capable of running a team. Winning states, though? That would just put it in bold text.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “You’ve done an amazing job with these kids. And Swan: I’ve yet to see you fail.”

The honesty shining in his blue eyes was almost overwhelming, and a sudden tension formed in the narrow space between them; she hadn’t even realized how close he was. Close enough to...no, she couldn’t follow that train of thought. She’d done enough of that for one lifetime, and knew he had, too

So she stepped out of his space, took a deep breath, and started to head out of the room. “Let’s do this, then.”

*********************

She’d hated him, at first. She wasn’t even sure how she managed to convince him to let the team use the rink, despite the “no hockey” signs plastered everywhere. It had to have been Henry—that kid could warm even the hardest heart.

Which was probably the only reason Killian agreed to help coach, too. Emma knew absolutely nothing about the sport other than what she’d seen watching; but how could she teach the kids the difference between icing and offsides if she didn’t even know? Heck, she could barely stop on her (rented, figure) skates without crashing into the boards. 

And she was totally ready to respect Killian’s rule—until Henry found out who he was and couldn’t stop talking about him. About how he actually founded his previous team, and had a pretty respectable minor league playing career until a hand injury ended it, but went on to be a fantastic coach—for a while, ultimately flaming out at the college level. It wasn’t her business how he ended up managing a secondhand rink in the less-nice part of Boston, just that he continued to let them use it. 

It took a couple soul-crushing defeats before he stepped in and helped her teach the kids the basics, and as it turned out, they made a pretty good team. He was fantastic with the kids; Henry liked him a lot; hell, he was even great with her ex. It was perfect—almost too much so.

Because he could also read her far too well.

It only took one run-in with Regina, one of those rich moms, for him to figure out there was more to her starting this team than met the eye.

He sussed out her history with Neal pretty quickly, despite only meeting him once—her reaction said enough.

And when she put distance between them—a lot of it, for almost two weeks—after they shared a rather intense hug after their first win, he called her out on her bullshit.

“Don’t try to tell me you’re not avoiding me, because I’m actually quite perceptive and this? This is avoiding.”

“I know,” she confessed. “But...I can’t take the chance I’m wrong about you.”

They continued to skate around...whatever this was between them. Emma tried to chalk it up to physical attraction—because damn, was he ever: dark, shaggy hair (with a few lighter strands mixed in), piercing blue eyes, the right amount of stubble, and a bit of chest hair that teased her from under the henleys he wore, which also did a good job of showing off the fact that his playing career might be over, but he was still in fine form.

But it was so much more than that. He was a kindred spirit, in a way. She just refused to admit that.

*********************

From the moment the puck dropped, it felt like she didn’t take a breath. She and Killian moved with and around each other fluidly, giving instructions, cheering the kids on, maybe yelling at the referees a bit, but ultimately doing everything they could to support the team.

With less than 30 seconds left in the third period, the game was tied 3-3. “Do you trust me?” Killian asked her at the start of their last time out.

“Of course.” She’d never been more sure of anything.

He nodded at her and then turned to the kids, describing a play that, if all went well, would net them a goal and secure them the win.

She was silent with anxiety as she watched the line skate back out. Killian returned to her side and then squeezed her hand. “This’ll work, I promise,” he said, and gave her one of the soft smiles he didn’t give very often.

All she could do was nod and then turn her attention back to the ice.

She still wasn’t exactly sure what he’d told them to do, but it was genius, whatever it was; the kids were completely in sync, passing the puck surely and accurately, until it was in Henry’s possession—and then it was in the net.

The light lit up, the siren rang out—they’d just won the state championship.

She didn’t know whether to scream or cry, so she settled for some combination of both and instinctively threw her arms around Killian, not giving a fig about propriety. They won.

(It was almost worth it for the sour looks on other mom’s faces—but even more for the unstoppable grin on Henry’s.)

She was barely aware of anything during the awards ceremony—not until Henry was shoving their (surprisingly heavy) trophy in her hands.

Back in the locker room, the kids were passing the trophy around, admiring their medals, taking selfies, and Emma had to brush a tear away at the sight. It was more than she had hoped for at the start of the season. 

She turned away to a corner, so she wouldn’t embarrass Henry or something by getting too emotional, but Killian quickly swam into her vision. “What’d I tell you, Swan?” he said softly, reaching up to brush away a tear. “Bloody brilliant, love.”

“Please,” she scoffed, though it was a bit watery. “That winning play was all you. That was amazing.”

Killian blushed, the tips of his elfin ears turning pink. He was about to say something, but then a cry came from the team, who had suddenly gathered around them. “Hey, coaches!”

They both turned to look—and were immediately drenched in coolers of Gatorade. The kids began to whoop and holler and laugh, but Emma and Killian were frozen in place for a second.

Until she looked across at him, grinning at her through his (very wet) fringe 

If starting a hockey team had been a rash move, it was about to be topped—because she finally caved, grabbed him by the lapel of his coach-like sportcoat, and hauled him into her, finding his lips with hers. 

He tasted like—well, Gatorade, and he stiffened at first, but then wrapped his arms around her and deepened it. He kissed her like he meant it, and she gave it right back. It would probably throw a wrench in a lot of things, but she didn’t care anymore. It just felt good; it felt right.

They did eventually have to come up for air, and not just because the their impromptu shower was making their clothes stick to their skin uncomfortably (she couldn’t help but notice the red-tinged dampness of his chest hair through the open vee of his dress shirt and vest). Some of the kids were playfully gagging, but Henry gave them a thumbs up.

If someone had told Emma at the beginning of the season that she’d end it by kissing her assistant coach in a victory celebration, she’d have thought they were completely mad. But as she dragged Killian in for another kiss (of many more to come), she was so glad it was real.

#cs ff #cs hockey au #hockey!killian #Happy Birthday #thesschesthair #there wasn't room for a ton of chest hair in here but I got a bit in!

[sprawa-przybyszewskiej]

I would like to present (extremely briefly; it's more of an invitation to their thoughts rather than anything else) two approaches that touch on a creative technique used by Przybyszewska, which has been spotted by some of her scholars, albeit each in its own way. Ewa Graczyk maintains that Przybyszewska did not write a historical drama in any way, but rather described a completely different reality, an universum in which the same events happen, but which doesn't take place on Earth, with us in it. She describes, then, something which I call The French Revolution', taking after mathematics' nomenclature. Kazimiera Ingdahl, on the other hand, spots traces of gnostic and manichean ideologies in Przybyszewska's writing, which, as we all know, are based solidly on the contrast between Heaven and Hell, knowledge and numbness, soul and mind. I mention them here solely to point out there is a dualism in her works, it is important and easily recognizable.

I have nowhere near the amount of erudition these scholars do, so I will constrict myself to some more visible matters. In my previous post about Antoine, I've made a remark that stuck with me for far longer than I had expected, and so I decided to elaborate on it.

The passage I'm talking about is this: because it could potentially reveal Saint-Just as another Danton-like minded individual, looking for power for himself through sacrifices of others. I want to explore whether Przybyszewska really did construct both of them alike?

To me it appears very probable, as crazy as it sounds. First of all, ALL of the personages are created in some reference to Robespierre. He is the only singular, original mind amongst them all, not to mentoin an axis around which other revolve, and so all of them, whether we like it or not, are somewhat similar to each other. Second of all, she clearly went in the direction of mirroring certain scenes, ideas, expressions (which I personally love to track down and compare them later), and it's exactly the same when talking about certain individuals. The two pairs (Robespierre – Saint-Just and Danton – Desmoulins) come to mind right away. They are constructed as parallels at least in some aspects and at least to some extent.

Wouldn't that, however, put Saint-Just and Desmoulins on the same/similar level, aren't they the ones who creat a parallel pair? Well, yes and no. I think they are a unit when it comes to personal matters, for rather obvious reasons. But I also think they are both put in similar situations, and yet their thinking is polar opposite of each other. They are both allowed to Robespierre's most personal sphere, and yet their reactions are completely different, which is one among the reasons as to why one of them meets a sad end by all accounts, and the other can die somewhat happy (as I will always mantain: if Przybyszewska managed to finish Thermidor, I am one hundred percent sure she would depict Antoine as one dying boldly and proudly, if only beause he died for a great cause and alongside Robespierre). On the other hand, spiritually and mentally, Camille resembles Maxime way, way more than Danton. They are both... maybe not exactly soft, but emotional. The main difference between them is Maxime is able to rein his feelings in when necessary (again, not always, not completely; vide his late night visit at Desmoulins', vide his attempt and saving him from the Luxembourg Palace), but as far as differences go, this one is actually minor. They are put in different positions, but their reactions are similar.

I would also wager to say Saint-Just and Robespierre don't have that much in common with each other in the plays, leaving out their political stances and their relationship. They are very different in terms of character traits: Maxime is more forgiving, calmer, quieter in all aspects. Antoine is more of a quicksilver, and also is regarded more as a tool in Maxime's hands, which I mean in the best way possible. While he has his own opinions, sometimes quite different to that of Robespierre's, he only entertains them in Maxime's presence, so that no one can put a splinter between them and turn them against each other. When they are turned against each other (during their quarrels, yes, but also during Thermidor, which is a beautiful study of such a case), he defers to Maximilien humbly and holds no grudges against him. This is pretty much the only soft side he ever presents to the audience, for when facing any other characters, he is sarcastic  if not downright hostile, the only exception I can think of being Eleonore. He's not gentle, not even with Robespierre whom he respects so much.  (I cannot get over how badly Wajda interpreted this in his movie, where in his very first scene Antoine brings Maxime an apple-tree branch in full blossom; while a sweet gesture, it made little sense, for the director not only didn't establish their special bond in any way, cutting their very important scene in Act II and a lot of their exchange of words in Act V out, but completely ignored the fact that in the play they did talk about trees blossming, but it was Maxime who pointed this out to Antoine. Honestly, it would make much more sense if in the movie he was the one giving Antoine flowers; altough I don't trust it would be executed well, so perhaps the best scenario would be to drop it altogether.)

This leaves Antoine and Danton as the unlikely pair. Here I wouldn't necessarily say they are put in different positions (following my train of comparison), because – depending on if you believe the confrontation between Danton and Robespierre to be honest or not – there is enough evidence in the play to mantain both of them want to  establish power over nation through Robespierre. Danton is the villain of the play, but he isn't blind, he too wants to use Maximilien as a face of the dictature, as a tool to obtain more "normal" power for himself (normal power here would equal to money, respect, high office; the "abnormal" power is what Robespierre sort-of-dreams-of, an influence over people to direct them into doing what is necessary for the good of the whole of the nation, or better yet, the world). And Antoine wants more or less the same thing, the exception being he doesn't care at all for personal gains. He doesn't necessarily believe in Robespierre's visions of the future, one could even argue he doesn't understand them (this is clearly shown in Thermidor, where he reacts with a headache once Robespierre unfolds his plan in front of him: Stop it, Maxime. I can't keep up with you anymore.); he does, however, see the neccesity of establishing the dictature or some other extraordinary mean to obtain the total power over the state. Both he and Danton are blessed with a far-fetching political vision, the only thing differentiating them from Robespierre is that he's a much more brilliant chess player than any of them, when they can see few moves forward, he's already seen all the possible outcomes of the match. And all of these outcomes are bad, for Maxime is characterised as a pessimist, while Antoine and Danton are, generally speaking, optimistically inclined. Youthful foolishness indeed, except Antoine is not foolish! He's just optimistic. In Danton, the optimism takes a form of boldness and bravado, in Saint-Just it manifests as an unwavering faith in the one he considers to be so much more superior to himself, and also a certain amount of contempt for the ones he considers to be inferior. This is another trait he shares with Danton, and we have to admit, Przybyszewska did a really good job at presenting the same trait in them both in such different ways, that we like one, hate the other.

There is also the matter of how they treat Camille and what they think of him. Here, both are jealous, I think. Jealous of the special place Camille has in Robespierre's heart, scornful of his abilities as a politician and a journalist, disinclined to him as a person. Danton cares for him as far as his utility in being a leverage on Robespierre goes, but I don't think he hoards any warm feelings for him personally, and I don't say it only because he was willing to sacrifice Camille purely out of spite. A much better example to show what I mean is that Danton seems to have a much better functioning, more honest and professional relationship with Delacroix than with Camille, whom he keeps in the dark about absolutely everything from start to finish. I don't know if it was meant to be a symbol or not, but in their very last scene in the jail cell, Camille has to beg Danton not to snuff out the candle, which Danton does, albeit very reluctantly. In turn, Saint-Just talks about Camille in language dripping with contempt and jealousy of purely personal kind, offending him left and right, right to Robespierre's face – not to hurt Maxime, but to "open his eyes", so to speak. In one particularly harsh sentence he compares Camille to a dog, a child and a prostitue all in one breath. He not only doesn't regard him as an opponent, but barely recognizes him as a human being worth respect, in which he is sadly very similar to Danton.

Weirdly enough, they both regard Maximilien as human, which I think is interesting to notice. It would be really easy to write them in such a style that leaves way for them to see Robespierre as something more, something almost extraterrestrial, somebody who posseses abilites greater than normal humans do. And yet:

The first image is from The Last Nights of Ventose, my own translation, and it's directly from Antoine's compassionate speech. I didn't include Robespierre's response, because he just deflected, but deflection does mean he doesn't fully agree, so it's yet another similarity.

One more thing that comes to mind in a comparison like this is that Danton threatens Robespierre with the ultimate power. He doesn't think that Maxime will be able to live with it, with himself, if he ever decides to go this one step futher and become a dictator. Is this is because he wouldn't be able to live with himself, or does he truly underestimate Maxime, or he simply wants to make sure Maxime would not go in this direction precisley because he knows he would then be ustoppable? How very telling then, that in Antoine's mouth the very same thing is not a threat, but a promise! This ultimate power is born out of necessity, and it's a grace for the whole nation, because no other person could bear the weight of this "crown", but Maxime.

The main difference between Saint-Just and Danton, I think, is something which we have to believe, it's not written clearly anywhere, and this is also the thing I briefly touched uppon in the aforementioned post: we have to believe that Antoine has pure intentions, because we sure know Danton does not. These were the embers fueling the suspiscion in Maxime when he couldn't understand why Antoine would possibly push for the dictature so much – is his heart pure? This sounds overly dramatic, perhaps, but I think this dramaticism aligns perfectly with Maxime's overall characterisation. I think all readers believe in his good intentions, and the parallels constructing the characters help immensely in this judgement, for if Danton is rotten to the core, Antoine is as steady and pure as a marble column. Robespierre even calls one a pig, while the other deserves to be named an Apostle of liberty.

There is, however, another similarity between them, too. Both Antoine and Danton are willing to be dishonest in order to achieve their goals. This is this one thing that's hard for Robespierre to swallow, for he – like Camille – values honesty really highly and if he could, he'd always act honestly. Saint-Just, not to mention Danton, has no such scrupules. He sees the greater necessity as something erasing all other circumstances, and for this greater picture he is willing to sacrifice some of his integrity as a human being. With Danton, the situation is even less complex, for I don't believe he would be sacrificing his integrity in any way – this dishonesty lays at his very core and comes natural to him.

The arguments Saint-Just presents, and which differs from Robespierre's point of view, are also different from that of Danton's. Danton's vision of the present is filled with contempt for the people, for the masses who are less brilliant than him and few others are. It is worth noting that Przybyszewska really did think like this, this is something she believed in and while reading Danton's speeches in Act II Scene 3, what we actually hear is her own train of thoughts. The only difference is that she didn't disdain the people they way he did. She thought that being a mass, an unnamed pulp of flesh is not a bad thing (it was perhaps unfortunate, and I am sure thinking she was a genius like Robespierre helped her in maintainign this view). Base material is a nourishment for those who will lead these masses. We – the lesser people – are absolutely necessary for them – the greater ones – so that they can lead us out of the night and into the new epoch of enlightement, and there is nothing humiliating in being this nourishment/tool/base. Danton understood it only partially, for he wasn't ready for the greatest sacrifice of all: to be a genius, one has to get rid of everything personal, all needs and desires must be kept aside, and never again spoken of. Robespierre understood it, and I think Antoine did too. I think the best evidence for it is that he said, that he doesn't consider himself to be Robespierre's equal. Recently I hoped to prove it was a silent declaration of love; now I want to point out it is one because it showed Robespierre that Antoine understood this great sacrifice one has to make in order to be a leader, and in his own way, he has already done this. He has brushed aside personal vain and glory, his amour-propre, he degraded himself in order to magnify Maxime's importance. Danton may say: It's you whom I adore, but it is Antoine who shows it through his actions as well as his words.  

#do you think they are constructed as parallels or am i delirious? #sprawa dantona #the danton case #L'Affaire Danton #Stanisława Przybyszewska #stanislawa przybyszewska #Maximilien Robespierre #maksymilian robespierre #antoine saint just #Antoni saint just #georges danton #jerzy danton #frev #french revolution #literary analysis

[secretgamergirl]

A Little Horrifying Primer on Transphobes

Some time ago, I put together a Little Fact Checking Primer on Trans People, as a basic resource for disabusing people of some of the many completely ridiculous yet absurdly widespread beliefs about trans people that simply have no basis whatsoever in reality. And wouldn’t you know it, every single lie exposed in that primer is not only still widely believed, but is presently being used as a basis to sign some absolutely horrific human rights abuses into law. So it’s high time I follow that up, in this case focused more on who keeps actively spreading these lies and why. I’m going to try and keep things as light as I can here, but we’re going to be looking at the most monstrous side of human nature, so apologies in advance if this is a dark read.

First, let me just note that there are two things I don’t plan to do in this piece. I’m not going to waste time debunking the arguments of the people I’m highlighting (much of this is already covered in my earlier primer, others have done the work in cases where I haven’t, and frankly these people’s claims should be self-evidently utter nonsense to begin with). I am also going to be very selective in what I link to, or even share related images of, as I would frankly not like to fill a post on a blog I generally try to keep safe for all audiences with media directly dealing with, for instance, child sexual assault, and much of the relevant information also involves stochastic terrorism against innocent people, and I would prefer not to throw more fuel onto such fires.

Transphobes lie constantly, about everything.

To some degree this is obvious. We’re talking about people who scaremonger about the possibilities of trans women dominating competitive sports and assaulting people in restrooms, despite the status quo already reflecting the conditions they insist would make these inevitibilities for decades and centuries respectively, and their grim visions never once having come to pass, and also constantly insisting that the woman in the photo below is actually a man, going further to say this is evident to anyone giving her the merest glance.

It goes beyond that though. There’s at least a little plausible deniablity in claims like this, or that “science is on their side” if they were simply uninformed about the world they live in, never actually looking into what laws exist, what science actually says, and never actually meeting a trans person or even seeing a picture of one of us. I’m talking really bold lies here. Like wholecloth fabricating a story that a convicted murder was trans, including anecdotes about wigs dresses and a planned name change, in a major newspaper. Or to cite an old favorite of mine, the time a pack of bigots walked up to a crowd of people peacefully picketing a transphobic legal proposal, started roughing them up and taking closeup photos of members of the crowd to stalk online when they got home, got sufficiently riled up for one to straight up assault an innocent person half her size, filmed the whole thing, uploaded it to youtube, and used stills of that assault as acomanying photos when they went home to write articles about the assailant being a “grandmother” attacked by rowdy trans women. And yes, they did monkey’s paw my wish to see that specific image on newspapers. Interesting side note, when it came to real public light that J.K. Rowling endorsed this sort of hatred, it was because she accidentally pasted some profanity laden rambling about how the imagined moral character of the other party in that incident, years after the fact, into a post praising a child’s fan art of her work.

To be a little less niche, transphobes can’t get enough of spreading the lie that the young fellow in this photo is a girl. Specifically a trans girl, providing proof that all their scaremongering about the dastardly threat of trans girls in competitive sports has finally come to pass.

To be fully clear, that’s a man (or a boy if you want to split hairs about him being 17 in that photo). Mack Beggs. A rather insidious choice for this sort of story, considering the actual context for that photo. See, Beggs attended high school in Texas, during a (still ongoing as I write this) period wherein that particular state had caved to this exact sort of propaganda, and in order to head off a wholly imagined wave of trans girls competing on girls’ sports teams, and enacted a law mandating that in all such competitions must compete under whatever gender is stated on their birth certificates. And as it happens, the first, and to my knowledge ONLY time this has come up was with Beggs here, who again, is a man, as no one with a grip on reality could argue against, has “female” on his birth certificate. Which is another way of saying he is a trans man. The guys in the same boat as trans women who we talk about a whole hell of a lot less because their existence is extremely inconvenient to the majority of transphobic propaganda. Case in point. And this is all information it is really impossible to come across if you’re coming across this photo in any sort of respectable source. Take this story, which is as unambiguous about this as you can get. And yet, in the very comments section of that story, there they are. Carrying on like this story about a trans guy, forced by a transphobic law to compete as a girl, which he absolutely did not want, and received horrific threats over, using phrases like “female to male” and bringing up that he was assigned female at birth and is on testosterone-based HRT, is about a trans woman cheating the system. Or to quote word for word, “Now also transgender female want to be male also compete in female sport. biological born“ That’s not “being confused,” that’s standing next to you in a white desert and complaining about being adrift in a black ocean, bald-faced, not even trying to be convincing just make a power play, lying through one’s teeth.

I could spend this whole article on just this point. Lying about who they are, various people’s falsified credentials, whole websites full of “anonymous parents of children who think they’re trans” turning out to be one single woman documenting the abuse of her very much trans son, or of course the people behind the whole “bathroom bill” panic candidly admitting it was all based on utter fiction. I do have other points to cover though.

Transphobes are firmly entrenched in the media.

It is extremely difficult to find oneself in a position of having to explain to people that a particular group of people is effectively in control of press outlets, as that is rather classically a claim conspiracy theorists absolutely love to toss around at various marginalized groups (including trans people hilariously enough, but of course the most common and lingering version of this is the antisemitic variant). I really can’t get around it here though. Specifically in the U.K., you honestly can say that transphobes control the media. I already touched on this with the assault case I mentioned above and the fabricated story about the murderer, but this is a pretty well-documented situation. I mean, even The Guardian calls out The Guardian on this, and that’s the outlet that gets the most attention because it’s the one with the most otherwise respected name, but every paper in the country has been running transphobic propaganda pieces on a weekly if not daily basis for years now, and while they do get reprimanded by watchdog groups and have mass walk-outs over the worst of it, it’s not like there’s some governing body with the authority to step in about it. Meanwhile the BBC is constantly inviting diehard zealots like Graham Linehan to news programs where he compares being trans to being a nazi, and hosting debates where someone just sits down and repeatedly chants the word “penis” at a trans woman.

Things are better in the rest of the world, but we still have right-wing creeps like Jesse Singal both writing horrific propaganda pieces (we’ll get back to that one) and blackballing trans writers out of covering trans issues ourselves (and personally stalking the hell out of those of us who try). We’ve got our Joe Rogans and Tucker Carlsons out there (no way in hell I’m linking videos here, have a real information link and a still).

The line between diehard transphobes and straight-up nazis basically does not exist.

What even is there to say here? You can easily poke around havens for nazi activity for yourself and compare the particular unique vocabulary used there to the primary bastion of anti-trans hate speech on the internet (the “feminism” section of what was originally a site for parenting tips before violent fascists took the forums over) or just peruse the follows of the thousands of people I’ve blocked on social media and see if you can sort out a clear division in the networks of channers with frog avatars and the accounts with names like GoodieXXrealwoman, or you can read up on Gab and Spinster, the two twitter alternatives that are just different portals to the same server, set up by the same guy. Maybe do some research into “the LGB Alliance,” or WoLF but any way you slice it the only real difference to be found is the general purpose nazis take a little time off now and then to watch borderline pedophilic anime and the really dedicated transphobes think to use language that sounds vaguely well-educated and left-leaning. I mean, this came from the “feminist” side of the fence:

And not to belabor the point here, but the ones claiming to be a bunch of “feminist mums” sure do let the mask slip any time they’re confronted with the fact that “women” includes black women, and oh just have a whole thread about all the weird conspiratory theories these people have about how trans people’s whole existence is some sort of Jewish plot for world domination. I swear a few months ago they were all passing around a story about some bank having an above average number of trans employees and they were all just “and we all know who controls the banks, right?” about it.

Transphobes endorse an awful lot of people who are openly pro-pedophila.

This is the part where I am really loath to link the many many specific examples I have on hand. Or to talk about this at all for reasons of good taste. Or, for that matter, to talk about this in a tumblr post when there’s an ongoing problem of people with backgrounds strongly tied to this site making baseless accusations of pedophilia against every queer person they can find, so let me be very clear just what I’m talking about while avoiding anything too graphic.

That’s James Cantor. Transphobes love him for being one of the closest things they have to a scientist on their side. And I am featuring him in a screenshot here showing that he is followed by current queen of the transphobes J.K. Rowling, while speaking to both another big name in transphobic circles, Debra Soh, and based on their names, what I’m guessing is at least one straight-up nazi. And in case you think “the P” he’s talking about adding to LGBT (or “GLBT” as weird anti-queer bigots who also have issues with women often write it) might stand for “poly” or “pan” he’s all too happy to clarify that.

This is the entire thrust of Cantor’s work and life. He is the world’s biggest pedophile rights advocate. He wants it declassified as a mental disorder, all stigma on it removed, and tirelessly pushes forward the idea that the majority of.. people who feel compelled to sexually assault children are good people who present no potential harm to anyone and should in fact be lauded.

I am not generally one to claim that someone with a PhD is spewing out questionable garbage with regard to their field, but the reason I am aware of Cantor at all is that other transphobes keep trying to hold up a particular post on his blog as "a study” (which it is not) that offers “proof” (in the form of a blurry jpeg of basically some random numbers) of some ridiculous quackery about how trans kids will “grow out of it” if exposed to conversion therapy (another way of saying torture), which Cantor himself seems to be pushing, so I am somewhat skeptical of his academic chops. And I am, of course, REALLY suspicious that all these other bigots gravitate to him purely because they’re that desperate to find anyone with a PhD in anything that backs them up against literally every scientist in a relative field, to the point that they merely forgive his particular advocacy they are plainly all aware of, particularly when such a common fig leaf used by transphobes is “keeping children safe from sexual deviants.”

And of course, Cantor is most often invoked when coming to the defense of Kenneth Zucker. This Kenneth Zucker.

Those are separate papers. Zucker isn’t controversial though for organizing panels to discuss how attractive people agree small children are (at least not exclusively). Mostly, he’s known for running a conversion therapy center which subjected gay and trans children to various sorts of torture in an effort to “fix” them, which at least for those trans "patients” I have spoken with involved a fair amount of having them strip completely naked and talking a lot about their genitals.

Zucker is something of a controversial figure with the transphobic scene, as they are extremely on board with his sexual torture of queer children, but he does actual work (for some value of the term) involving trans people and thus is not able to commit as fully as they would prefer to making life horrible for trans people, due to a professional obligation to acknowledge reality now and then. As an aside, the similarly positioned Ray Blanchard, while not to my knowledge particularly interested in the attractiveness of children, lives in a similar purgatory of trying to reconcile his career, bigotry, and sexual hangups, yielding compromises like this:

Of course, that’s just looking at the straws transphobes grasp at when looking for scientific credibility. Real leaders of the movement include Germaine Greer, author of The Beautiful Boy, which is about what you are afraid it might be, and features a very young child in a cover feature he did not consent to posing for. Or Julie Bindel, who among other things is rather infamous for writing whole articles on subjects like whether a teenage girl she came across maybe has a huge penis you can totally see if you really squint at her skirt. Again, I will not share a link to go along with that one.

Transphobes terrorize and attempt to defund charities and other unambiguously good organizations.

Graham Linehan, previously best known for cowriting some sitcoms and possibly spending a year angling to get into my pants so awkwardly I didn’t pick up on it is now best known for trying to pull the plug on a children’s charity, in a story that somehow also involves Donkey Kong. Well, and the interview about nazis. And possibly the other interview about “defending me from nazis” until it got into his head that I might not be as young and hot as he imagined. Rather not link to a far right extremist youtube channel though.

There’s also a current effort to replace Stonewall (an organization named after the location where a pair of trans women kicked off a riot which is generally agreed to be the start of the LGBT+ rights movement) as the UK’s primary LGBT+ rights organization with the “LGB Alliance.” The hate group mentioned above, with the skull face and the rifle. Closest I can find to an article on that effort on short notice that isn’t propaganda.

Transphobes paper areas in truly disgusting propaganda.

I don’t want to directly link to grown adults skulking around children’s playgrounds and bathrooms plastering surfaces with mass printed stickers of crudely drawn penises, but would encourage you to read this very long post, being sure to load all the images, to really understand how deeply strange this behavior gets.

Finally, I cannot stress this enough, this really extreme behavior I’m citing, and the specific people involved in the examples I’m giving, these aren’t random cranks on the fringe of things. The people going on televised panel discussions, writing up news stories, and testifying before lawmakers in efforts to pass horrifically discriminatory if not literally life-endangering laws (there is a major ongoing effort to legally end all medical care for trans people, and I don’t just mean care directly relating to being trans) are literally the same people involved in the sexualization of children, nazi collaborations, and roving gangs assaulting people in the street. At a bare minimum I urge people, when booking guests and handing out writing contracts, to do background checks and see if they’re platforming actual terrorists. If we could actually bring legal consequences to bear against the worst of this, that would be great too. As things stand though, the whole world is just consistently citing a bunch of racist, woman-hating, serial liars with no real credentials, and questionable attitudes towards the sexual abuse of children, as “trusted experts” and refusing to seat actual trans people or people who have legitimately committed lifetimes to academic and practical work with trans people any seats at the table.

#trans #transphobia #educational resources