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creatingblackcharacters · 5 months

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“Why’s she so rude?” (She’s Not)- Stereotypes, pt2

So I'm sure that you all thought I was going to give a blow-by-blow list of "visual stereotypes to avoid". I'm going to be honest here, I thought about it, and figured it would be redundant. My page already includes sensitivity on depicting Black people. So instead, I'm going to focus on stereotypical "character" concepts, so that you can 1) not write it in your stories and/or 2) recognize it in media (fiction and reality!) and in life!

Two major resources: the Jim Crow Museum website is an EXCELLENT resource to understand the imagery of antiblack racism in U.S. history and society. The other, White Tears, Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad. The book focuses on the many racist stereotypes projected onto women of color and how that purposeful, systemic negative perception of us bleeds into every aspect of our lives- specifically by white women/white feminists who believe that they are not contributing to said oppression.

I'll start with Black women, just because I’m passionate about it (obviously) and there are so many things I wish I had and hadn’t seen growing up. We deserve better by the year of our lord 2024.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mention of sexual assault, assault

Misogynoir

What I want everyone to understand, before I get into this, is the concept of intersectionality, and more specifically, misogynoir. Misogynoir is the specific type of contempt and prejudice that Black women face at the intersection of race and gender. I say this because you might read these things and go “oh, as a woman, I experience these things!” I get it, but I want you to PAUSE, and remember, that right now, we are talking about Black women’s experiences. And those will often be different, due to that intersection of identities. And that understanding will have an effect on how you understand (and thus, write) those experiences.

The Jezebel

The link goes into much deeper detail, but the Jezebel is the idea that a Black woman or girl who is sexual is somehow “fast”, “salacious”, “a hoe”, “driven by desire/doesn’t understand purity”, and at its worst, unable to be r*ped/a victim because she is less valuable yet somehow inherently seductive to men.

This gets thrown around CONSTANTLY in media and life for Black women (my first experience of treated like I was ‘fast’ was when I was like… twelve?) One major, visible example is Megan Thee Stallion. Meg has a college degree, she likes anime, she’s a brilliant rapper, and has an entire personality and struggles she’s shared… But she also likes to dress scantily clad and have sex. By doing those things, she ‘lessened in value’. And because of this, when she was shot at and assaulted, even Black people questioned her character, rather than understanding that she could have been anyone, and she still wouldn’t have deserved to be assaulted. She's not allowed to be multi-faceted; she "brought it on herself".

Black girls and women who happen to take charge of their own sexuality, to the discomfort of society, are treated as Jezebels- as whores. Think about it- if one of Taylor Swift's recent boyfriends shot at her, would the media question her value or her word? Question her equivalently high ‘body count’?

Question how you write your Black woman- she can enjoy sex! She can be sexy! We love to see it! But if you're punishing her specifically, or judging her within the narrative, versus your other characters who are allowed to safely explore and act upon their sexuality… Check your judgment! Why do you feel the way you do about this character? Why do you think that your Black character is the one that should be judged for her actions. Would you feel this way if it were a nonblack character?

The Sapphire/Angry Black Woman

Ohohoho, I have infinite amounts of feelings about this one.

This is the "sassy Black friend", the "aggressive Black boss", “step on me angry mommy”, the one who does the z formation and makes everyone "uncomfortable". She’s not allowed to be confident, assertive, or self-assured- she’s arrogant, rude, and aggressive.

I discussed it in part one, but I'll reemphasize it: your Black woman doesn't have to be an ‘Angry Black Woman’ in order to be angry! Just like any other human being on the planet, we are allowed to be mad. (In my honest opinion, we have a lot to be mad about, but I digress 😅)

If the only character that ever gets angry is your Black character, I want you to consider why. What is she angry at? Was this something you wanted the reader to understand or empathize with? Are we supposed to disagree? How does everyone around her treat her anger? Is her anger righteous? Is she always shut down or dismissed for it? Is it only meant to defend her friends, but never herself? Does the narrative suggest that it’s only good in use of others and not herself? Would this be the same reaction if one of the nonblack characters was angry? Is this something you did on purpose?

Very often, we're called 'angry Black women/girls' to invalidate our emotions. My therapist once said anger is a protective emotion. We might be hurt, overstimulated, sad, depressed, frightened, anxious… But we are often not allowed the grace of others digging deeper to see that. Even if the other characters do not understand her anger, even if her motives are not meant to be understood at the moment… you as the writer should be aware. But if every time it’s time to show anger or upset, it’s your Black character… consider why this is the one you thought would best convey that message, and how your Black readers might feel seeing that this character (who may not even be the ‘bad guy’) is the one that is ‘only’ angry. No other development, no other emotions, just… there to be mad.

I take this one to heart, as someone who feels very passionately about things… this is one of those things where I wish, in life and in media, people would have more grace for Black women. We're human, too. We have feelings, too.

The Mammy

This one isn’t as visually blatant anymore in media as it was in the past (like every Mammy doesnt look like Aunt Jemima), but you may have seen this one as "the mommy figure". The "lesbian that parents the silly gay boys". The one that’s always encouraging the ship of the white boys, but never the one allowed to be in the ship (especially when her ship is canon!)

A good example of this was how people expected Jessica Drew from ATSV to be "more loving" to Gwen, rather than the mentor and boss she was (plus, as a Black woman with a Black mother… trust and believe, she was quite direct and gentle). And in comparison to her counterpart, white man Peter B. Parker, was decried far worse for similar detrimental actions.

The Mammy often serves in opposition to the Jezebel and Sapphire/Angry Black Woman. What makes the Mammy particularly annoying is that it implies that the only good Black woman character is a ‘nice’, demure, unthreatening, homely, motherly figure whose job it is to make sure to center the (usually) white ones. The Mammy is expected to coddle everyone, to her own detriment. She's a ‘good Black’ because she causes no issue, raises no fuss, never shows a negative feeling, knows that she has to ‘be strong’ but to always defer because the white characters know best. She’s ‘not a threat’, and that’s why she’s ‘allowed’ to be around. We shouldn’t have to be those things in order for our stories to be heard and understood, in order to be empathized with or treated like someone of value.

The Strong Black Woman

If I never hear this phrase again in my life, if we eradicate it from future generations for Black girls and women, I'll cry of joy lmao. I hate it, and it's not for the reasons most nonblack people would expect. Lord, this one. Anyway. The ‘strong Black woman’ is meant to protect everyone, no help needed! Whenever something is wrong and we all need a pickup, here she comes to ‘let me do it’ and everything is going to be okay! She did all the necessary suffering so that your characters don't have to! She can sweep in and save the day!

Now here's the dissonance kicks in. This one on its surface probably sounds like a good thing. She's a hero! She’s resilient! She's great! Who wouldn't want to be superwoman? Who wouldn't want to reject being a love interest, all women are always love interests! Let us be the badass that kicks ass and shows the men what for! Who wouldn’t want that, 24/7?!

The answer: US. 👍🏾🤣

This is a long, separate conversation on its own, but we have to understand that Black women (women of color, really) and White women do not always share the same end goals and understanding of "strong woman character" or even feminism. We certainly aren't always the love interest. Very usually not, in fact. We are always pushed to the side. We are already the hero in our lives, we're already the "strong woman".

Not everyone yearns to be the Singular Hero who will Fix It All as many of us are already expected to do. It's exhausting having to swallow your own needs for everyone else all the time, especially when it's suggested that you have no value otherwise if you don't. Heroism is Exhausting, and it's something worth looking into when you’re characterizing your Black girls and women. I’m not saying that we can’t be strong! We are, and it’s impressive! But I also want us to add some nuance to that strength, the way we would for any other character. What it means to have community, rather than to do it all alone. How even if she wants to be the hero (and that’s okay! That’s fine!) how it would still wear on her. Surrounding your Black girl character with unconditional support, to have a lover that actually wants to pull some weight- that's something many of us actually would like to see, because we're usually shafted to the side as 'someone who can do it all herself' (in order to hide that no one thinks we need or are deserving of the help).

It's okay to let your Black woman and girls show weakness, to rest, to be taken care of! It's not "less feminist" to accept that we're humans that need help and can't carry it all, too. That it’s okay to want to feel valued and protected. Because god knows, I wish I didn’t grow up strong and resilient, I wish I grew up knowing that the world cared that I was safe.

Standards of Beauty

These standards are not the same! I've mentioned it before in my lesson on skin tones, but very often when we think of "beauty", it’s easy to fall into the idea of whiteness. Pale skin, thin hair textures, etc. If those are our existing standards of beauty, then it doesn’t matter what any of us look like- we’re ugly! When I was in high school, I remember a classmate saying that Swedish people were the most beautiful people because of "white hair and pale skin". Without even meaning to, that guy basically said everyone darker than a stack of loose leaf printer paper was ugly by proxy of not being Nordic White (no matter how pretty they actually might be!!) 🤣

It’s also of note that whiteness/paleness tends to be connected with innocence and cleanliness in western culture, while blackness/darkness tends to be considered dirty, sinful, fearful. Now, while the origin of this idea may not be racist itself, when you spend hundreds of years implying that Blackness is bad- to the point that, in the U.S. they came up with an entire slur one step past “negro” (meaning ‘Black’) to deem you less than- it’s hard to say that the societal connotation didn’t apply.

Now we've already discussed working on describing our Black characters better! I continually remind you all that you should be describing them as wonderfully made as you do your white characters. Keep in mind that we live in a world where from day one when we enter the world, Blackness and Black features are not seen as beautiful nor emphasized. Whiteness is the standard of beauty that we, for a long time and still, are expected to adhere to. If you'd like to do better by your characters, remember that you don't have to give them "white features" or use "white" as an adjective to do that!

Black Women as Women

“There was literally nothing, not a thing, that a white woman could ever have that was worth more than her sexual virtue, and this obligated mandatory chasteness and sexual vulnerability… If the most important thing a woman has is virtue, and only white women can have virtue, then by definition, only white women can be women.” Ruby Hamad, ‘Only White Women Can Be Damsels’, White Tears, Brown Scars

Often, Black women by definition are not included under the societal banner of “women”, from our features, to our personalities, to our 'role' in life. "True Womanhood" is denied us, cis and trans, because of our Blackness. The things that make women ‘women’, we are not included under, because systemically, the only ‘women’ that were meant to mean anything were white.

I bring up Megan Thee Stallion again. Meg is probably one of the most beautiful, feminine women I've ever seen in my life. Men still call her a man, due to her height, due to her confidence, and due to their insecurities. Same with Serena Williams; Serena is damn near built like a god in my eyes. She was told she was manly from the beginning of her career, no matter how beyond skilled she was in women's tennis. Even when she damn near died giving birth- the most basic of 'tasks' women are seen as having in this society, it didn't matter. Black women are 'less womanly', 'less valuable', 'less in need' of that protection and identity that society swears Women™ need (and not in the honest way that we do need protection).

Consider that you're making sure that your Black women have the options of range of gender expression and emotions (and if they aren't allowed to, is that on purpose). If you're only ever creating us and we're in service of some dainty white woman and never the other way around... consider how that may reflect what you think our role is in your story, and in your mind.

Adultification

“Awkward moment when Rue is some black girl and not the innocent blond girl you imagine.” twitter: sw4q

It has been shown that Black girls the same age as their white girl counterparts are deemed older and less in need of protection, and supposed to 'be more mature'. Imagine that. Deemed inherently less innocent, due to your skin color. Having to parent our siblings, get jobs to contribute, do all the cleaning, and more. Yet, when we act with the maturity that we've been forced to grow into, we're "fast". A little 12-year-old girl, now to society, the Jezebel. All because she wanted to try pink lip gloss or wear a skirt; things that little tween girls might try to understand the big world around them and push boundaries. Now she's a woman, now she can never be a victim. Now she can be beat on and hurt and it's her fault.

I explain this for two reasons: One, for you to think about how your write your Black girls, and Two, for you to hold more grace for Black girls- real and fake. Do you hold her to a higher standard than your white characters of similar age? Does she inherently seem less innocent to you for reasons outside the plot? Is she as human to you as your other characters? Is she allowed to be a child? To act like one? To make mistakes? Are you as empathetic or understanding about that childishness as you are towards nonblack characters? Do you make these decisions on purpose?

It's not like Black girls can never be YA protags or anything- ofc we can. But keep in mind that she's not somehow automatically "stronger" by proxy of her Blackness, that she'd "be tougher". She's a kid. Let her be one.

Conclusion

There’s a LOT you have to consider when writing Black girls and women. I’m not going to sit here and say it’s easy, because being Black, and being a Black woman, is not easy. If you’re stressed reading it, imagine being stressed living it lmao. It’s a constant chain of quick-time events every day of your life to prevent nonblack nuclear meltdown in response to your every single action. I’m not going to apologize for it, either.

That being said, I don’t expect you to understand everything, especially not all at once. I just want you all to keep these things in mind, to question yourself when you’re writing your character- are you treating her differently on purpose? Or are you treating her differently because of a bias you might not even notice you have? It might help to go back, to read how you treat all of your characters. Or, if you’ve never written before, to maybe outline the traits of your characters and figure out where things balance out. As always, all you can do is practice at it. Because it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers.

Whew, I'm actually emotionally strained after this one. My chest is beating fast. Let me go get some groceries now.

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black character design #writing #creative writing #stereotypes #antiblackness #racism

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astrobydalia · 7 months

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🪻Lavender Observations🪸

it's pisces season my dudes so here's my fave pisces aesthetic... this music video really spoke to my pisces moon soul so I wanted to pay homage to it. As always enjoy the observations!

work by astrobydalia

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🪻✨Capricorn risings are very full of themselves to be honest. They have an overall pleasant reputation and are loved (Libra 10th+Cancer 7th) but for some reason they're actually very individualistic and conceited deep down, like they think of themselves as being 'on other level' than others. I think this is because their shadow revolves around their ego (Leo 8th house) and we all know they love status but unfortunately fame and popularity tends to change them and/or take out their toxic traits (Scorpio 11th house). Basically they’re the type to become extremely entitled individuals just because they’re successful

🪸✨The virgo placement urge to have a harmeless and innocent personality/reputation while also engaging in the most unholy, taboo and sometimes immoral activities behind the scenes............ iykyk

🪻✨I’ve noticed Geminis are what people think Aquarians are??? Idk Aquarius placements are the most chill and unproblematic people I know and typically don’t make any fuss out of their “quirks” or opinions, they’re just living and vibing them on their own. Geminis on the other hand are the chaotic manic pixie girls/boys or the mad scientists with the most random and out of pocket interests and ideas. They always be leaving me like ‘wtf are you talking about?🤨’ They’re also opinionated af and will jump into controversy pretty easily.

🪸✨Oh! And Geminis are WAAAAAAAAYYY more detached than aquarius dude. Geminis are air AND mutable, for them it is extremely easy to move on and detach from things

🪻✨All the people I've met who's had cosmetic procedures done (botox, plastic surgery, fillers, etc) always had libra placements and/or Neptune aspecting the ASC. Overall Venus and Neptune influence is big in people who wanna look like a glossy instagram filter

🪸✨Chiron in the 6th house are HUGE control freaks due to feeling like reality overwhelms them too much, they feel like their life is never sorted out. They are also the type to overwork themselves with pointless things or hyper fixate on short-term goals cause it gives them a sense of control

🪻✨Capricorn placements are attracted to ambition and independence. It is not so much about age difference that they look for, but rather they like it when someone has their own things going on for themselves and has solid life values that they stick to. Capricorn's love language is supporting your ambitions and you doing the same for them so.... they need to see potential in you and with you

🪸✨Libra+Scorpio placements are VERY envious people and tbh I've seen this in everyone who has this mix regardless of how developed they were.... The type to befriend/get close to people they're secretly jealous of to either ruin them or get a taste of what they have. Seriously these natives are never happy with just themselves they're always focusing on how good others' things are

🪻✨People with fire in their big 3 HATE it and get defensive when other people make unsolicited assumptions about who they are or when people assume they can know the native better than the native knows themselves. It’s hard for them to brush that kind of thing off, they don’t like to feel like people are ‘appropriating’ their identity. The type to be like “you don’t know me or my story so stfu”.

🪸✨All of the Scorpio moons I've met had at least a phase in their life where they had a very unhealthy relationship (scorpio) with food (moon)..... They always seem to turn to food when going through a hard time but in a very self-destructive way

🪻✨Sagittarius is as much of an escapist as pisces. They both crave for things to be good, positive and unserious (Jupiter)

🪸✨I’ve noticed women with personal planets in Aquarius usually have very thin and sparse eyebrows and usually enhance them with makeup

🪻✨Natives with Mars in Capricorn are SUPER hairy. A very thick and stunning head of hair and/or noticeable and abundant body/facial hair. Their hair is usually deep and dark as well

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🪸✨Scorpio Moon men I’ve noticed are attracted to a woman who is a bit cold, mean or is not easy to get to her because it makes him feel like she can handle him and his intensity. They’ll likely commit to a woman that captures his heart in such a way that he knows she can potentially hurt him more than he can hurt her. Deep down they wanna be the softer one in the relationship cause they’re a water moon after all

🪻✨I personally never had any 2nd house synastry relationship that actually involved money (except for business relationships ofc). Instead people who had planets falling in my 2nd house always make me feel like a million bucks frfr 🥺 They made it clear that they valued my opinion, my talents, qualities etc (essentially they valued all I had to offer which is 2nd house themes) and also made me feel like they favored me in many ways, like I'm a part of their top priorities, one of their 'faves' and wouldn't let me go easily. I have to say this turned pretty superficial in some cases on both sides, with 2nd house synastry there's a tendency to think of the person in terms of what they can offer be that money, time, services, advice, skills....

🪸✨That been said, you're more likely to be hired or promoted by people who have their planets in your 2nd house because they value your talent and skills. The best feedbacks I've gotten were mostly from clients who had their planets in my 2nd house

🪻✨Cancer Jupiter gives a very loving and caring husband that will totally adore you and provide for you both emotionally and financially. Husband is bound to be highly emotional and sentimental as well, the type to make it obvious to the world that he is truly in love with you. This is Jupiter's exaltation so this placement really gives Disney's Prince Charming vibes fr

🪸✨I've also noticed Scorpio Jupiter gives a similar kind of husband^ but less Prince Charming and a more 'dark fantasy novel'. This placement is giving Edward Cullen’s “your scent is like a drug to me” vibes when it comes to your husband

🪻✨With debilitated Jupiter (Virgo, Gemini, Capricorn) you might get a husband that is kinda detached and could even be distant or indifferent depending on other aspects or positions. Best case scenario is they love and support you but they are just not good at showing affection for some reason and might provide in more practical/straight forward and less sentimental ways. Again, house position,aspects,degrees, etc will give nuance

🪸✨I find Virgo and Aquarius are so similar in that they’re kinda judgmental of people and also tend to be very detached and analytical

🪻✨A crazy amount of athletes and fitness people have debilitated Mars

🪸✨I've also seen a lot of YouTubers, podcast hosts, etc have Sun-Mercury conjunction which makes a lot of sense lol

🪻✨Moon/Venus in Scorpio/8th house natives have a 'I hate everyone but you' kind of love. They really do have a level of misanthropy in their personality but it's low-key amusing

🪸✨Couples that have this best friends and partners in crime dynamics always have 3rd house synastry, I haven’t really seen 11th house as much… The 3rd house creates a fraternal understanding in a couple, two keen minds thinking alike (Gemini, twins, etc)

🪻✨I’ve actually observed 11th house synastry is pretty messy??? It creates connections (any kind) that are a bit all over the place tbh. You really don’t know if you’re gonna be together forever or fall apart tomorrow. You haven’t talked to each in years now one of you is reaching out like nothing happened and both people are keeping it chill the whole time specially the planet person. I guess this dynamic is okay between friends, colleagues or acquaintances (which is what this house rules) but when it’s a romantic or more intimate relationship…. Like I said it’s just messy, not necessarily bad, it be can refreshing and exciting but it has to be your cup of tea (I assume Air venus/mars people will dig it). You’re always wondering what’s next with this person, it feels like the sky’s the limit. I’ve seen this synastry a lot in couples who make odd decisions in the relationship that make people often question if the couple is actually serious about each other like that or not like being engaged for too long, etc

🪸✨Capricorn moons are extroverted or at least they easily pass as extroverts in social situations. They really stand out to me for having a very defined public persona that they’re mostly known for but they’re not really like that in private at all, you’d be surprised for better or for worse lmao

🪻✨"My love language is all of them" = Leo Venus

🪸✨Virgo placements are just as talkative as Gemini placements, they ramble just as much (Mercury). The difference is Virgo’s speeches are usually more thoughtout and eloquent like a presentation they’ve practiced a hundred times, in fact they tend to talk about the same stuff and repeat the same jokes, themes and rambles in most conversations because they like to stick to what they know (earth). They’re 100% the type to give you an unsolicited lecture on whatever it is they’re interested in. Gemini’s speech on the other hand is usually more spontaneous, random and chaotic, they tend to brainstorm out loud and enjoy finding new ideas in conversations (air). They’re more likely to wonder, play with ideas and ask ‘what if’ questions cause they like to explore the possible connections of different things

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🪻✨Pluto-asc aspects/Pluto in the 1st house/Scorpio rising come across as the cool girl/boy. They always have some unattainable energy to them that people secretly look up to and this admiration often translates into jealousy

🪸✨Aries in the big 3 always have something with their forehead. Either they have a big forehead or they have a sacar there etc

🪻✨Capricorn placements work hard and party HARDER. This results in them having a rather fast-paced life style honestly

🪸✨Istg Virgo Moons got a stick up their ass. In their minds they are judge, jury and executioner and never give people grace or just the benefit of the doubt. I don't doubt they're soft deep down but damn they can be very very stubborn and they can get mean easily.

🪻✨Best Virgo placement imo is Virgo mars, I’ve noticed they tend to channel the best traits of virgo (constructive criticism, self-accountability, collaborative, understanding but know what they don’t tolerate)

🪸✨When I first joined Tumblr I read an observation that said Aphrodite (1388) conjunct Mars creates injuries or scars from beauty products and that is SO true! I have this and I've burnt myself several times with curling irons and laser hair removal gadgets

🪻✨All the people I’ve met who loved country music, country life style and that sort of cowboy aesthetic mostly had Sagittarius placements 🤠🐎 (myself included lmao)

🪸✨People with Virgo+Scorpio placements are the most intimidating people I've ever met. Imagine the nitpickyness of Virgo mixed with the intensity of Scorpio.... yeah... not the best at going easy on others or letting people in. Don't test them, they have a “get away from me you fucking scumbag” energy whenever they’re upset or simply dislike something and are the hardest to please. They are very sensitive deep down tho, very sweet and selfless if they genuinely like you.

🪻✨Sagittarius is the master, teacher, guru and guide so it makes a lot of sense for the Sagittarius Pluto generation to be hung up and obsessed (pluto) with influencers, life coaches, etc (sag)

🪸✨Moon in the 3rd house natives tend to make vey quirky movements and gestures with their mouth/jaw when they speak or they're very expressive with their mouth like they may grimace or pout a lot

🪻✨Cancer Mars men are huge mamas boyzzzz!! The type to be completely dependent on their moms/wives to even fry an egg and provide overall home security. They will marry a dominant woman who is fully or mostly in charge of the house and family stuff

🪸✨Speaking of, men with domicile or exalted mars (Aries, Scorpio, Capricorn Mars) can be huge assholes if underdeveloped. If immature they can channel toxic masculinity since mars feels very comfortable here it could go a bit overboard and give fuckboy vibes. The type to be very controlling, inconsiderate and always feel entitled to sex

🪻✨On the opposite end, men with debilitated mars (Libra, Taurus, Cancer Mars) are super chivalrous and often present themselves as very polite, thoughtful and modest. Very popular among women for sure. They can be players and have huge ego too if not mature but even then their energy is very inviting

🪸✨Fire moons process their feelings by letting things out in the moment as they come either through anger, humor or simply speaking their mind. They can often appear rude when expressing something that they feel very strongly about but they'll always value authenticity above anything else

🪻✨Earth moons process their feelings by creating a course of action. Like they internally make a plan for things they will do in oder to make themselves feel better, fix their issue or fulfill their needs on a long-term/permanent basis. They could develop a whole personal system or life style that caters to their emotional needs

🪸✨As we all know Air Moons process their feelings by rationalizing their emotions. Ironically, this can make them lack some emotional intelligence because they put so much focus on their feelings making sense that they don't allow themselves to feel their feelings and figure out what genuinely feels right for them

🪻✨Water moons process their feelings by fully owning their emotions. They find comfort in the mere validity of their own feelings which is why they often have this tendency to victimize themselves, blame others for their issues and constantly look for sympathy

🪸✨I’ve very very very often seen Sagittarius/Jupiter in 7th house, Sagittarius Groom/Juno/Briede creates age gap with spouse!!! As mentioned, Sagittarius is the master and guide of the zodiac so with the influence of this sign in your marriage you are bound to have a teacher-student dynamic where either one of you has much more life experience specially in relationships

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work by astrobydalia

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia #astrology observations

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akajustmerry · 2 years

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anyways, instead of focusing all your energy on calling out Succession and the Last of Us for being anti-palestinian, here's some of my favourite media made by Palestinians 🇵🇸 and their allies...

Salt of this Sea (2008). Dir. Annemarie Jacir. Heist film set in Palestine about 2 Palestinians who help a Palestinian American woman rob a British bank who refused to give her the money her grandfather left her.

Netflix original series, Mo, created by Mo Amer. Dramedy about Mo, a Palestinian American without papers, trying to stay out of trouble until his US citizenship is approved (he's already been waiting for 12 years). This just got renewed for a second season!!!!

Farha (2021). Dir. Darin J. Sallam. Coming of age story about a 14 year old girl trying to survive the Nakba in 1948. Tw: settler colonial violence.

In Between (2016). Dir. Maysaloun Hamoud. A film about 3 Palestinian women, one of whom is queer, in their 20s living under occupation. Heart-warming story about friendship, solidarity and revenge. Tw: sexual assault.

In Vitro (2019). Dir. Larissa Sansour. Breathtaking short scifi film set in a future where Bethlehem has been destroyed by an ecological disaster and two scientists from different generations are trying to remember what happened. This film is pure poetry and I think about it constantly.

It Must Be Heaven (2019). Dir. Elia Sulieman. A charmingly absurdist film about Elia Sulieman seeing parallels to Palestine everywhere he goes as he tries to make a film about his homeland.

The Crossing (2017). Dir. Ameen Nayfeh. Short film about Palestinian siblings trying to cross an Israeli checkpoint to visit their grandparents.

Ramy. Episode 3 of season 3: 'American Cigarettes'. Far and away the best episode of TV of 2022, and also directed by Annemarie Jacir. Ramy goes to occupied Palestine to make a diamond deal with some Israeli brokers, but his horniness takes him to The Other Side. I think about this episode almost everyday, it's unlike anything I've ever seen.

Freedom Is A Constant Struggle by Angela Davis. A book of interviews and essays conducted by Angela Davis on how systems of racism and colonial violence are all connected, and how solidarity between communities of colour are vital, using the long-standing allyship between Palestinians, Aboriginal peoples and Black Americans as case studies.

As fine and good as it is to call out Zionism in media, rmr to also support Palestinians, their work and their art. Feel free to suggest more ❤️

#palestine #free palestine #Ramy #Mo #farha #films #tv #/

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 4 months

Note

Hey,

Do you still take Hannibal requests? If you do, could you please write a story, where Hannibal get‘s very jealous after a night out in the opera. The reader had finally met Franklyn, who is very interested in her ( because she‘s friends with Hannibal and part of the cheese folk).Hannibal is visibly angry when they are back in their opera seats… Could you also please end it with smut ( if you are comfortable with that).Thanks for considering!<3

A/n: Hey Hon thanks for the request i hope you like it!

Hannibal Lector x Reader: Jealousy, Jealousy

Warnings:smut, biting, kissing, penetration (p in v), fingering, possessive behaviour, public sex, unwanted flirting (from Franklin), fluff, happy ending, no use of y/n, female reader

Word count:2,9K

Hannibal is pissed. No scratch that. He’s seething. But you can’t see it. No one can. He’s just that good at hiding it. Even so, everyone has a breaking point.

This was Hannibals.

Franklin had met you at the last opera you and Hannibal had gone to and from that moment it seemed he had grown some sort of infatuation with you. Hannibal always loathed his sessions with Franklin, his ever growing desire to be Hannibal’s friends making the doctor rather uncomfortable, but he never imagined it could get worse. Boy was he mistaken. It seemed like Franklin couldn’t utter a single sentence without mentioning your name. Hannibal watched him dance around the subject for days until he finally got to the point.

“You think you could give me her number?”

“I'm sorry?”

“Her number. I wanted to ask if she’d be free for some wine tasting but I don't know how to reach her. And then I thought you must have her number since you two seem close.”

“I don’t think she’d be interested.”

“Oh well maybe you could give me it anyway and i could ask-”

“I will not be giving you her number and that is final.”

An eerie silence took over the room. Hannibal watched Franklin open and close his mouth silently before settling back into his chair. It seemed clear to Hannibal that his patient had finally gotten the message.

Once again he was wrong.

You were nursing a glass of wine that Hannibal had picked out for you as your eyes studied the opera house. Hannibal was next to you, his body mare inches from yours but not close enough to allow contact. You watched people come up to Hannibal in greeting before quickly going away.

“As always you’re quite the topic.”

“I don’t know what you mean dear.”

“Don’t be modest Hannibal. It's clear these people admire you. They may even wish to be you.”

You caught sight of a girl making flirtatious eyes to Hannibal and couldn’t help but smirk.

“Or maybe be with you. Either way they consider you appealing.”

Hannibal watched you as you spoke, his eyes never leaving your frame. It was intriguing how observant you could be and how unseeing you were at the same time. It didn’t matter how many women tried to impress him, his eyes always found themselves glued to you. You always had his full attention.

Always.

It was beginning to become a problem.

Hannibal had been so focused on looking at you that he hadn’t noticed someone new had approached. It was only when Hannibal heard the familiar voice that he realized you two had company. The doctor watched Franklin greet you with a kiss on your hand. The sight itself made Hannibal clench his hands into fists. He tried to remind himself he was in the middle of a very crowded place. A place filled with people who knew him. Seeing him throw a punch at a patient would ruin his career. Still he’d never felt an urge to knock someone out so much in his life.

You were always a kind person. Very well mannered and aware of your words. So it shouldn’t surprise Hannibal when you kept conversing with Franklin, occasionally even laughing at his terrible jokes. Hannibal zeroed in his attention on your lips. He observed the way they wrapped around the rim of the glass as you took a sip of your drink. The drink he’d picked for you because he knew you pallet better than anyone.

It had occurred to Hannibal a few months back that he was growing interested in you in a not so friendly way. But it was only when Franklin asked for your number that he realized how deeply he was falling for you. He wanted you for himself. And he would make that happen.

You were starting to get annoyed. Franklin was a nice guy but it was clear he didn’t know how to take no for an answer. You could see the way he was subtly, at least in his eyes, trying to flirt with you. It’s safe to say you weren’t interested. Not that he seemed to be getting that message. A noise rang out into the room telling you all the intermission was coming to an end.

“Well look at that, time just flies when you’re having fun huh?”

You gave Franklin a weak smile .

“We should be going, Franklin. Our seats are at the top so we have to climb a lot of stairs.”

“Oh okay.”

“Maybe we'll see you at the next opera?”

God you hopped not.

“Actually I was wondering if I could get your number.”

You froze, a concerned smile plastered to your face. Gosh he really didn’t let up did he? In a moment of pure panic at the thought of having to deal with Franklin calling at all hours of the night you grabbed onto Hannibal's arm. The doctor's focus moved to where your delicate hands were wrapped around his forearm. You looked up at him with pleading eyes before turning back to Franklin.

“Actually I’m already spoken for.”

“Oh wow I didn’t….realize.”

“Yes well we are very much together so…. Yeah.”

And uncomfortable silence covered the three of you. You tried to think of something to say. Anything to get you away from here. Before you had time to come up with something Hannibal spoke.

“Come on dear. If we don’t hurry we might miss something.”

You let out a relieved breath as Hannibal moved his hand to wrap around your waist, guiding you away from Franklin. You kept your eyes forward as the two of you walked. It was only when you were out of Franklin's view that you started laughing. You braced yourself on your thighs as you laughed.

“Oh gosh. That was just dreadful. He was so-“

“Annoying.”

“Incredibly annoying! Honestly Hannibal I don't know how you can deal with being in a room with him for an hour.”

“Didn’t seem like you were having such a hard time.”

You lifted your head to look at the doctor with a curious expression. He was looking down at you with a look you rarely ever saw, at least not directed towards you. Hannibal Lecter was annoyed. And at you no less. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You seemed to be enjoying talking to him. Laughing at his jokes. Making small talk.”

“It's called manners, Hannibal. As far as I know you value them quite a lot.”

Hannibal stalked over to you causing you to take a step back. Your back hit the wall, making you gasp. Hannibal hovered over you, his eyes boring into your soul.

“Hannibal what are you-“

“Did you enjoy his attention? Did you like the way he was looking at you? He was staring so hard I was surprised his eyes didn’t pop out of their sockets.”

“What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“Into me? Weren’t you the one who was just clinging onto my body like I was your savior?”

You’d never seen Hannibal like this. For the first time since you knew him he looked like an animal. His usually neat hair was slightly flopping over his face and the expert calm facade he always had seemed to have slipped. He looked like a predator and you were his prey. You lifted your hand so that you could touch his arm. He looked at your hand on his frame. It was as if your touch was burning him. He needed to feel you but he was afraid of what that would mean. You whispered his name causing him to face you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted as you breathed.

He hadn’t even realized he was boxing you into the wall with his body until he felt the heat that radiated from you. He couldn’t think straight with you so near him but he couldn’t bear to be far from you either. It was then that he realized just how much he craved you. He felt like a lion who’d been starved for days and had finally been given a piece of steak.

He was going to devour you.

Without a second thought Hannibal shoved his lips against yours. Your body reacted immediately, hand moving to wrap around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Hannibal moved his hand to your leg, hitching it up. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers skimmed over your skin. He enjoyed the sounds you made as he pushed your underwear to the side. His fingers moved over your pussy and he couldn’t help but groan as he felt how wet you were. Your nails dug into his blazer as he inserted one of his digits into you. Your back rubbed against the wall as he continued to bully his fingers into your cunt. A moan slipped through your lips before you managed to cover your mouth, the realization that anyone could just walk by and see you finally becoming clear.

“Hannibal we-“

“Shhh I’m trying to enjoy the opera.”

You could hear the opera singer belting out a note from afar. The sound was dulled by the heavy doors but you could still make it out. Hannibal hummed the song as he continued to finger you. You were trying to keep as quiet as possible but he wasn’t making it easy on you. He knew exactly what to do to have you screaming out for him.

“Hannibal please, I'm so close.”

“Oh yeah? Think you deserve it?”

“Yes please. Please make me cum.”

“Even after flirting with Franklin in front of me?”

This little shit.

“Hannibal please…. I’m sorry.”

“Who do you belong to hum?”

“You.”

“Speak up dear, I can't hear you.”

“You Hannibal! I belong to you!”

“That's right. Go on then. Cum on my fingers.”

You hid your face in the crook of Hannibal's neck as a silent moan ripped through your body. He felt your teeth graze his collar bone through his shirt as your mouth opened in pleasure making him smirk. Your juices continued to coat his fingers as he attempted to help you through your high. Your body shook against him, your limbs spasming as you tried to regain control of your brain. You knew Hannibal's knowledge of the human body made him good at many things but you never stopped to contemplate the effect his expertise would have on a more sexual context.

Once you’d come back down to earth you pushed your body off of Hannibals allowing you to look into his eyes. You continued to breathe heavily as you looked at him trying to figure out what would happen next. You hadn't expected him to lean down and kiss your lips but you welcomed the action. You warped your arms around his neck tugging him even closer to you. Hannibal's hands made their way to your hips squeezing lightly at your flesh. You bite into his bottom lip as his mouth moved away from yours. You couldn’t help the giggle that made its way out of your lips.

Hannibal grinned down at you, his thumb caressing your hip bone as he continued to observe you. Your hair was covering your face and your lips were swollen from kissing him. Hannibal didn’t look much better, his pupils were dilated and his heart was hammering in chest. You noticed the wild look in his eyes and in a sudden burst of confidence you decided to move your leg up against Hannibal's body. His eyes darted to your leg before moving back to your face. You bite into your lip, your fingers moving to tug at the small hairs on the back of Hannibal's head. You watched his brows furrow a bit at the action. “You gonna fuck me Doctor lector?”

“What makes you say that?”

“The look on your face.”

“And what look would that be?”

“The look of a man who is about to turn into an animal.”

Hannibal's expression faltered slightly at your comment. He wondered from a moment if you’d understand him if he told you what he was capable of. He wondered if your eyes would widen in fear or if they would simply spike up in curiosity. You placed your palm on his cheek causing him to focus on you once more.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m starved.”

Hannibal gave you a wolfish grin as his hand made its way to your ass. You gasped as he pushed your body up, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. You steady yourself on his shoulders waiting to see what he would do. Hannibal tugged your dress up your legs allowing him to view your underwear. He moved his hand to his pants tugging at the zipper. You watched him in anticipation, eyes widening as he pulled his dick from its confines. You whined as he pushed your underwear to the side, positioning himself near your entrance. A gasp left your lips as he pushed into you. Your nails dug into his blazer. Hannibal braced one hand on the wall as he began to pistol into you.

Your moans filled his ears as he continued to brutally fuck into you. The sound of you combined with the sounds of the opera far away were like music to his ears. He wondered why he’d never thought of doing this before. You’d been to his home many times it wouldn’t have been hard to get you into his bed but he supposed this was nice too. He felt a rush move through his body at the thought of someone walking in on the two of you. He wished it would be Franklin, the need to show his patient that you belonged to him becoming overwhelming. His head moved to your neck, tongue moving against the soft skin before he sunk his teeth into you. Your walls clenched around him at the action causing him to let out a grunt.

“Hannibal-ah ugh ah shit- don’t stop.”

He was never going to stop. He’d feast on your body for as long as he could, in every way he knew how. He would never be satiated with the feeling of you. There was no going back now Hannibal would have to make you entirely his.

He continues to nibble at your skin, desperately trying to mark you as much as he can. He wants to scare off any other suitors but he also enjoys the thought of you walking around covered in marks he’s given you. Mine, he thinks, this one is all mine. You're clenching around his dick like a vice which tells him you’re getting closer to your release. He wants you to beg for it, wants you to ask him to cum. It seems you can read his mind because without him even opening his mouth you’re already whining for him, telling him how good he feels and how much you want to cum on his dick. So he lets you but not before filling you to the brim with his seed. He wants you so full off him that his cum starts to seep out. He wants you to smell like him so everyone else knows who you belong to.

You’re having a hard time getting your heart to calm down. Hannibals still holding onto your body, trying his best to keep you upright as his own legs threaten to buckle. Neither one of you speaks, opting to just share the space in silence for a moment. You hear muffled applause, the sound telling you that the opera has ended. You pull your dress down covering your body once again. Once you think you're decent your hands move to Hannibal now soft dick, stuffing it back in his pants for him. He doesn't move away from you as you straighten his tie or when you fix his hair for him. He lets you build his facade back up without any complaint. As you finish making sure he too is decent you place your hands on his chest.

“Can’t ruin your reputation, can we now Doctor Lecter?”

He smiles at you, his own hands moving to fix your messy hair. Then he moves to place a gentle kiss on your lips. It's a tender action which causes your heart to skip a beat. As the two of you share a loving kiss the doors of the opera open. People pile into the hall you and Hannibal are in, not one of them aware of what was happening a couple of minutes prior. You allow Hannibal to guide you into the crowd, his hand comfortably warping around your waist. You let your body curl into him.

“Let’s go home my dear. I’m dying for another meal.”

Something about the way he talks makes you think he isn’t talking about food.

#smut #smut fanfiction #smut tag #nbc hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal tv show #hannibal #hannibal lecter #mads mikkelsen x reader #mads mikkelsen smut #mads x reader #mads mikkleson #mads mikkelsen #hannibal nbc #hannibal smut #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you

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juletheghoul · 2 months

Text

crossing the line

a/n: I have been possessed by this man, he has singlehandedly cured my writers block. This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for joining in the hysteria with me, thanks for cheering me on my love Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus jerking it so right, creampie, vaginal fingering, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.1k

reblogs are appreciated

Prev chapter Masterlist series masterlist

Maybe someone else would have been upset to see how little they owned in the world, but it made no difference to you. The tunic on your back, an extra one to swap out for cleaning, a shawl, and a pair of sandals. That was all you had, that was all you needed, not much to fill your new quarters, modest as they were. Only let you get accustomed to your duties all the quicker.

You held no melancholy at having been sold into the service of another, it was the story of your life and had happened before. You had no doubts that it would happen again. Instead, you focused on learning the layout of the new villa that would be your home, on learning the moods of your new Dominus and praying to the Gods that he was not heavy handed with his slaves.

You’d been purchased by none other than Marcus Acacius, the General of the army of Rome.

Getting used to being in his presence took great effort, meeting his gaze was akin to being struck by lightning. He had the unique power to make your stomach roil like waves, but it wasn’t always an entirely unpleasant feeling. He was older, his hair streaked with gray and his face lined with age but it did nothing to diminish his beauty, or his prowess. You could almost believe he was a marble statue, an Emperor of the past, come to life. He’d caught your eye instantly.

Months passed, then a year, and you did indeed learn his moods. You learned all about his needs and did well to anticipate his wants, so much so that eventually, he had you follow him around like a shadow. Your prayers had been answered, although his moods could get quite dark, he never raised his hand to anyone in his service. He had no need to. He could correct any misstep with a look. There was a cloud that loomed over him though, an intensity, an air about the man of bottled energy. Any words he did speak were short, and cut to the heart of the matter and despite the fact that he never hurt you or the others, you thought it might only be a matter of time before someone got the brunt end of his misplaced wrath.

“He has been away from the battlefield for too long, pay him no mind. Do your duties, and he will settle.” One of the older women in the house noticed the way you wring your hands at his dark temperament, seeing her unbothered by it did much to calm you.

You didn’t notice it at first, but more and more often you felt his eyes linger on you. Felt him follow as you set the table with his meals, when you helped him dress in the morning, more still when you helped him with his night time rituals. He was unabashed and unrelenting, his eyes traveling the length of you, lingering on the swell of your breasts when you stood before him, on your backside when you walked away. You knew the look, had seen it in countless men in the houses you’d served before. You’d seen on the boy that served with you when you were both coming to the age of such things, when young men stretched and grew overnight, and girls flowered, breasts blossoming and blood coming at the turn of the moon. You had seen it in the young man that had taken your chastity, fumbling at your tunic when everyone had gone to sleep.

At first it had shocked you, not because of some notion of propriety or disgust, this was something that happened in every house. The Dominus was there to be served, no matter what they wanted, it came with your station in life, what shocked you, was how welcome his gaze was. How much you relished his heated stare, how much you wanted him to look at you, always. He’d been the object of every heated fantasy you’d had since stepping foot in the house but you’d been under the impression that he was a solitary creature, uncaring for the company of anyone, except his hounds, two great big beasts that he doted on. He never pressed the matter however, and so you contented yourself with your dreams.

He’d been gone most of the day, leaving you to help the other attendants with their duties, and the time passed quickly, and with the moon rising you thought it best to go to sleep–trusting that by this hour, surely he’d be staying put. With your own clothes washed and hanging to dry for the morning, you settled into bed. It was not to last however, one of the older women came through not long after you’d undressed and gotten into bed and announced that he’d arrived, looking for you.

“God’s be damned.” You swore under your breath, “Gratitude, I will see to him shortly.”

You had no choice but to put on one of the damp tunics, hissing at the frosty touch but running off to tend to him just the same.

With a light knock to announce your presence, you entered his private chambers.

“Apologies Dominus, I had thought you would be gone until the morning.” You bowed your head in deference to him, “Shall I fetch food and wine? Or will you be going to sleep?” His eyes were narrow slits, fixed on your body. You looked down to where he stared and noted that the wet fabric left nothing to the imagination. The dark patch of hair between your legs was clear as day, as was everything else. “Apologies Dominus, I had washed them when I thought you would be gone.” You stood there, the room pregnant with tension as he looked his fill. After what felt like hours, he looked up to your face and the expression made your nipples harden, a fact he did not miss.

“No, Girl. I am not hungry.” He set about undressing and you hurried to help him, doing your best to keep your touch from lingering too long. “I will cleanse and go to sleep. Snuff out some of these candles, and be off to bed.” His voice was low, and it opened a river between your thighs, the arousal for him so sharp it ached.

“Yes Dominus.” You did as he asked, leaving only a couple of candles burning near his bed, and leaving him there. You were just closing the door to your quarters when you realized his basin had not been filled, so you ran back to make sure he had the water he needed. It would have to be cold at this hour.

This time, you did not knock, hoping that he’d still be preoccupied enough that you could just slip in, fill his basin and slip out.

There was a slick, rhythmic noise that greeted you, along with a low, guttural groan. His chamber was darker without as many candles but the sight that greeted you was clear as day, and would forever be burned into your mind. Him, bathed in candlelight, his cock thick and shiny with his pearly arousal.

His strength could never be denied, but like this, with his arm flexing with each long stroke, his muscles glinted. You’d seen all manner of people nude in your service, there was no shame in it. The human body was a work of art and growing up and giving into desires meant you’d seen men nude and ready to rut, but this was something else. The young men you'd been with were callow boys. This was a man.

You stood there, frozen, and aching with an emptiness you hadn’t felt this keenly in so long.

He felt you then, and looked up to see you watching him and before you could say anything he focused on the place so clearly visible through the wet fabric between your legs and moaned a filthy moan. You didn’t know whether to drop the jug of water and run, or mount him like you would a wild horse. You bit your lip, willing him to beckon you forth to him.

“Did you come back just to torment me, girl? Or would you lend a hand?” He watched your face, letting you decide what you wanted, you put the jug down and walked towards him.

“I live to serve you, Dominus.” His brow furrowed with every step you took until his face tipped up to look into your eyes.

“Take that off–” He grunted the last word, squeezing his cock in his fist while you obeyed. “Put your foot right here.” He gestured to the spot beside his thigh, and you did. “Spread it open. I want to see it.” He watched your sex, his mouth opening in a silent ‘O’ when you complied. “Are you wet for me, girl?” He sped up, fucking his fist in earnest.

“Yes Dominus.” You slipped your fingers down, dipping them inside for a moment before showing him. He moaned again and your heart felt like a hummingbird in your chest. He grabbed at your fingers with his other hand and shoved them into his mouth, eyes closed and groaning around them and it was almost too much.

“Take it Dominus, take me.” You whispered, watching his rapturous gaze with unwavering desire. You had no time to think, because within a second, he was up and pushing you down onto his bed, settling between your spread thighs. His sex hung heavy, an angry red and for a moment your stomach dropped imaging it inside you.

“This will be quicker than I would wish it to be,” He grasped himself in hand, almost trembling as he lined himself up and sunk inside with one, quick thrust. “Gods above, girl, this little cunt was made for me.” He couldn’t hold himself back or give you time to adjust to his size, instead he set a brutal pace, and you held on, with arms around his neck and legs high on his hips for dear life.

Your fingers ached with how tightly they gripped the curls at the base of his skull. You pulled him closer, needing to feel his weight as he stretched you open on his length, over and over, making everything bounce with the force of it. He was right about it being quick though, a handful of pumps was all it took for him to seize up, one hand palming your breast as he seized with a growl. You felt it, the spurt of him deep inside.

“It is a gift, my gift.” He watched himself, hissing with discomfort as he pulled himself out. “My seed, just for you.” His breath came in pants as he drew himself out, softened and spent and you were struck again by his beauty. With the flush of exertion blooming on his cheeks, and the rare smile on his lips, you couldn’t help but mirror the expression, even as your own climax slipped away with every passing second. “Your turn, now I must see pleasure on your face.” He huffed out the words before laying on his side to your right, resting his head on one hand to gain a better view of you spread out beside him.

His fingers found the source of divinity between your legs.

“Spread those pretty thighs nice and wide for me, girl, I would have access to all of you.” He spoke low, pressing his lips to your temple as his fingers used the slip of his own mess to stoke the fire spreading through your veins. “So lovely.”

The reverence in his tone was so at odds with the confidence in his fingers, his skill was no tawdry thing and within a few moments the euphoria was so close you could taste it. You turned your face to him, silently begging for his mouth and he obliged, his kiss sweet as summer wine and all at once the wave crested. Your legs closed of their own accord, but this only bolstered him to slip two fingers inside, pumping through his seed and your liquid desire, laughing softly at the way you clutched at his arm.

All of the times before, had been a jest. It was hard to know if anything you felt before could even be called pleasure.

“Can you walk?” He pressed his lips to your shoulder, lowering them until he took a nipple into his mouth. You nodded.

“Yes Dominus.” He placed a final kiss to the soft skin of your breast, the whiskers on his face tickling you.

“Very well, off to bed.” The smile was gone, but it was replaced with a sleepy, satisfied look, one that you were sure would be gone in the morning.

“Yes Dominus.” You rose, on shaky legs, grabbed your damp tunic, and slipped out of his chambers.

—

Tag list: @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @wheresarizona @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @deadhumourist @felicisimor @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @oliviajdjarin @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x @naiomiwinchester @blazedprince @avidreader73 @mr-underhills-things @avengersfan25 @tastygoldentaters @nyotamalfoy @mymindfuckery @txtattoostark @its-nebuleuse @missladym1981 @inept-the-magnificent

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus acacius #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #general marcus acacius #Marcus acacias x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #the general

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months

Text

There's Eddie and then there's you, who has moved into the trailer park. Eddie discovers this one morning and proceeds to make an ass of himself. Features cute and flirty Eddie.

Or alternatively Eddie spots you while he's rushing to get to his van for school and nearly knocks himself out.

Eddie has no game but he tries, sweet Eddie.

🖤

Eddie doesn't pay much attention to the new family moving into the trailer park. He's too focused on getting a song prepared for Saturday at The Hideout, alternating that with writing in his notebook, poring over ideas for a new Hellfire campaign.

Wayne pokes his head out of the trailer door, he's clutching cups of coffee for them both. Eddie's coffee is in his favourite mug- the Garfield one that Wayne bought for him when he first moved in with him many moons ago.

He gulps the coffee down, almost burns his tongue at the scalding temperature then swears when he realises what time it is. Shit shit shit. He's already late for school, he's determined to graduate this year so no skipping any boring shit no matter how much he wants to.

It's when he's climbing inside his van that he realises he's forgotten his essay for Mrs O'Donnell's class, it took him long enough to write the shit. If this was about D&D or metal music or any one of the fantasy novels he loves then he'd ace it, but it's not and he's not interested in another fucking love story.

Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the old dragon to fail him if he forgot the essay and he can't use the excuse that a dog ate it- that got him a week's detention last time.

It's then that he sees the trailer door open that's not far from Mayfield's house and he's not seen who's moved into the new trailer so sue him, he's curious and looks over.

You can imagine his surprise when he catches a hint of a cheerleading uniform then you peer up at him, the momentum as he runs or if he's being honest tries to strut and the fact he's gawking at you causes him to trip over his feet and he nearly knocks himself out on his van door and sprawls on the ground.

"Jesus h Christ" he growls and he cringes that he almost knocked himself out because he was hawking at a pretty lady. Smooth Munson. Real smooth.

"Are you alright?" Suddenly you're beside him, kneeling in the grass and peering over him anxiously. He thinks he might have died and he's now in heaven because your fingers are in his hair and you murmur that you're checking for blood.

"Beautiful" he thinks to himself but then he realised he said it out loud and a pink blush coats his cheeks. You bite your lip and a sweet smile blooms on your face.

"Okay, I think you've definitely hit your head" You grin at him and his heart is fluttering, racing like a hummingbird's wings. Fuck, he has no game when it comes to women, usually he tries to make them laugh or makes an overdramatic fool of himself.

But this right now with you? this stumps him and makes him nervous. Eddie was rarely nervous, perfecting a don't give a fuck demeanour over the years but one look from you and he's putty. Feels shy and tongue-tied, he can't remember the last time he was ever tongue-tied.

Trying very carefully not to make an ass of himself he gets up and takes a bow which makes you giggle. "Eddie Munson at your service princess"

"I know. Your reputation precedes you, Eddie, though you're nothing that I thought you'd be like" he smiles impishly, knows exactly what you mean.

"Mmm, mean, scary and is known to make Jason Carver piss his pants" You snort and nod, eyes lighting up and he's eager to hear your sweet laugh again.

Maybe you have some jock boyfriend who would kick his ass for flirting or talking to his girl but at this moment he could not give a shit.

"Yeah and I didn't expect you to almost knock yourself out just because you looked at me" there's a shyness to your tone and he shrugs.

"It's not often that I'm graced with someone who is so enchanting Milady" he teases but it's the truth at the same time and you

"Enchanting? I've never been called that before" you seem surprised that someone could think that about you and that pisses Eddie off. If you did have a boyfriend then he was the biggest jackass in the world if he didn't show you how special you were.

And he never thought there would ever be a bigger jackass than Jason Carver.

"I've never made a complete ass of myself and nearly gave myself a concussion in front of a girl before sweetheart, guess there are firsts for everything" he hides his smile with a lock of his hair, his heart rate spiking again at the look on your face.

"Should probably get going, I'd offer you a ride but uh I'm sure your boyfriend would kick my ass if I did that and you know you're from the dark side and Hellfire would lose their shit" he's disappointed he can't talk to you more but at least you live close, maybe you would speak again.

It's only when he realises that you've walked past him and you're waiting at the van door that he comes out of his reverie.

"The dark side? We're not in Star Wars and if I was I'd be Leia and kick the dark side's ass. Also it's good that I don't have a boyfriend so you can drive me huh Munson?" You wink at him and his brain short circuits.

No boyfriend. You just winked at him. He feels like a deer in headlights then promptly snaps out of it. Feels like he's the cock of the walk as he struts to his van.

He absolutely does not nearly trip over his own feet again trying to impress you with his suave strut. Absolutely not.

He does.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #soft eddie munson #eddie munson #no vecna

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leilanihours · 4 months

Note

Hi! Could you do a Nika fic where we surprise her at one of her games in Seattle then we join her for when she signs autographs for fans?

# STEAL MY GIRL

pairing: nika muhl x reader

word count: 1750

warnings: barely suggestive idk..

summary: even in a sea of nika's most supportive fans, you always stand out the most.

⭑ from lani: fuck writers block bc im tryna finish the two paige and nika fics that ive been teasing but i literally cant for some reason someone punch me in my gut pls! anyways enjoy this short oneshot for ml nika <3

masterlist !

THE ENTIRE ARENA was booming with pride, excitement, and energy as the buzzer signaled the end of the game. the seattle storm had beaten the dallas wings 98-85 here at climate pledge arena. the game sold out completely and still had tons of viewers watching on streaming. the whole night had been amazing - both for the reputation of women’s basketball and for you personally.

your girlfriend, nika muhl, had been having some struggles with her visa, which resulted in her not being able to play for most of the games at the start of the regular season. whenever the storm had a game, you could see the frustration hidden on her face despite still showing up for her teammates and cheering them on. that’s just the person she was. she was caring and supportive through it all, but was also a fan favorite.

when word got out that she wouldn’t be able to play until she got sorted out, fans shared her irritation. they believed that the wnba should be better at handling these types of things, especially as they work toward expanding the franchise.

after nika’s incredible collegiate career at uconn, many viewers fell in love with every aspect of her - on and off the court. her powerful defense, striking offense, and electric motivation. also her selfless tendencies, bubbly humor, and magnetic personality.

you were one of those viewers. as a huge fan of women’s basketball, you naturally had to show your passion at every single home game the huskies would play. your booming cheers and echoing chants often caught the attention of the players - but specifically nika.

there was one game they played against syracuse where nika scored a deep three-pointer and gained the lead against them, and let’s just say you were not quiet about it. the second the ball fell in the net, you were screaming your lungs out and pumping your fists.

having being sat relatively close to the floor (just above the courtside seats) nika noticed you almost immediately. she was drawn to you and couldn’t help but smile brightly at your actions.

she knew she had to meet you and thank you for your support, so after the game where the team took pictures and gave out autographs, she took the opportunity to shoot her shot - literally and figuratively.

whenever the two of you tell this story, you warn the listeners of how cheesy it is because it is cheesy. you laugh when you tell this part of this story as your girlfriend blushes.

you didn’t have anything to ask the girls to sign, so you simply smiled watching their interactions. as nika gradually made her way closer to where you were standing with your friend, she saw that you were focused on your phone, head tilted down. however, she wouldn’t give up that easily, so she asked paige to throw her one of the mini basketballs they were giving out. she made eye contact with your friend, pointing to your oblivious state as to signal for her to get your attention.

when your friend practically shoved your shoulder, you questioned her sudden aggression. you were confused before she pointed to below, right at nika. she knew that she was your favorite player so she had to make sure whatever this plan was, was executed perfectly. you locked eyes with the beautiful brunette before slightly furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

quickly, nika wrote down her number, a small note, and signed her name before throwing the ball in your direction. you caught it (surprisingly) and observed the basketball player’s nervous smile.

you tilted your head in confusion before she pointed to the ball in your hands and made a pretend phone with her hand. when you looked down at what she wrote on the ball, your jaw was practically on the floor.

“to my biggest fan - saw you cheering earlier and wanted to say thank you

care to show your support another way?”

just below the short note was a set of digits, presumably her phone number. you internally screamed at the whole interaction, especially now because all you did in that moment was nod with a stupid smile.

and even after three years of talking with nika privately and eventually becoming romantically involved with her, you were still her biggest fan. the media saw it during the entire march madness tournament, at the wnba draft, and now the wnba season.

but there was one minor problem…you were pursuing your major at grad school in connecticut, meaning you were thousands of miles away from nika. navigating a long-distance relationship was definitely hard and had its bumps. regardless, you promised to be there for each other every step of the way. just because you lived on opposite sides of the country didn’t mean you stopped loving each other.

which leads us to now, at a seattle storm home game - one that was just won with the help of your talented girlfriend who actually isn’t aware of your presence at the moment. you had a few weeks before classes start up again, and you decided you wanted to surprise nika at her game. after checking both of your schedules, you booked the flight, bought the tickets, and started packing.

you were joined by one of your close friends and nika’s former teammate, paige bueckers. she knew about your private relationship with the brunette and was practically the captain of the ship fully supported it, which is one of the reasons she wanted to come with you.

the two of you were spotted as soon as you stepped foot onto the arena’s property. while paige was recognized for her own basketball career, you were recognized for being one of the team’s closest friends, as seen in their lives, tiktoks, and photo dumps.

less than ten minutes after you guys arrived at the venue, the internet was going crazy at the unexpected visit. normally you would’ve been concerned by the attention, as you didn’t want to ruin the surprise for your girlfriend, but you knew that she doesn’t go on her phone before a game, so you were covered.

as you stood next to paige in your seats, you were practically jumping with excitement. it had been weeks since you had seen nika in person, so the thought of being able to kiss her face, hold her hand, and wrap your arms around her undoubtedly made you giddy.

“yo, are you good?” paige laughs as she sees you smiling to yourself.

“yeah i’m just excited, man, i haven’t seen her in so long.”

“you nervous?”

“a little,” you start, “but the plan isn’t that complicated so hopefully i don’t fuck it up.”

“you should prolly get on that plan, like, right now.”

you watch as the seattle girls make their way towards the people in the stands with markers in their hands. that was your cue for you and paige to make your way down to the first row.

you had informed seattle’s coach of your idea and she was automatically on board. she told you that she would have you stand at the end of the first row so that nika had easy access to you but would also be surprised.

as you spotted your favorite brunette making her way down the row through wholesome fan interactions, you prepare her jersey in your hands for her to sign. you had no idea how she would react or what she would say, all you knew was that you couldn’t wait any longer to be in her arms again.

she is now signing the poster of the fans to your left and has yet to notice you. you smile feverishly at her beaming joy as she interacts with her fans. you can’t contain your excitement when she has finally made her way to you.

you had a whole ass pickup line planned out for her but you were too caught up in your head to go through with it (probably for the better) so all you could get out was a “hi, nika” with the widest grin ever.

her eyes shoot up to yours as soon as she recognizes your voice - the same voice that has comforted her through her best and worst, coaxed her into relaxation, and become her safe space.

“Y/N! OH MY GOD,” she practically screams as she throws her arms around your neck, “how are you here right now??”

“do you really think i have enough self control to stay across the country when i could easily be here with you?” you laugh, hands grabbing her waist as you bury your head in her neck and inhale her comforting scent.

“fuck, y/n, i’ve missed you so much, my love,” she says into your hair, placing a delicate kiss there. at this point, the fans around you two had started recording the reunion, along with paige and the rest of nika’s teammates. you wouldn’t hear the end of it tomorrow, but here in each other's embraces, neither of you could care less.

“i missed you too, angel. been waiting so long to see you,” you sigh in content before you pull away to plant a sweet kiss on her forehead, “you did so good out there tonight, i’m so proud of you, nika.”

“thank you, baby,” she smiles genuinely, “probably because you were in the audience.”

“but you didn’t even know i was here,” you giggle.

“yeah whatever,” she responds. she goes in for another hug but is stopped.

“wait! you still need to sign my jersey!” you exclaim, holding up the yellow and green shirt.

“really, y/n?” she deadpans jokingly.

“yes, really. i didn’t come all this way just to not get an autograph from my favorite player,” you wink.

“alright fine,” she says before taking the jersey and splaying it against your upper body to write on. she uncovers the sharpie in her hand using her teeth (an action that definitely did not make your knees buckle) before beginning to sign it. her head is lowered close to your chest for a good thirty seconds while she gets to work but you have no idea what she’s writing. “there, all done.”

she takes the jersey from your grasp and holds it up so you can see it. her note has you shaking your head and smiling immensely.

“to my biggest fan - saw you cheering one day and now wanted to say i love you so much

care to let me show you how much?”

— leilani signing off ! 📁

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 3 months

Note

This is probably small in the grand scheme of things, but how did Emilie being noble play any impact in the story at all?

I mean, I'd get it if it was just a small detail to help deepen Emilie's character, but why nobility of all things? I don't know, from what I'm seeing so far, the whole "Emilie renounced her noble title" shtick just feels worthless if it's not going to impact the story or add depth to Emilie's character (like maybe upbringing or personal values?).

I don't know. Like everything else, the noble part just feels shallow and means nothing to the story, especially for a character like Emilie, who is the plot device for the whole show. Any detail about her, like her personality and life story, is supposed to influence the story and characters one way or another, namely Hawkmoth since she's his driving force.

So what was the point?

For context, this ask is about Félix's play which says that Emilie gave up her title to be with Gabriel. I'm gonna give a slightly larger section of the transcript of the play for full context, but the relevant but is at the end of the last paragraph:

Félix: The king and queen's twins grew up, each day as different in heart as they were similar in body. The firstborn, curious and brazen, despised life at court and escaped at every opportunity. The younger daughter, well-behaved and respectful, did everything she could to please her parents, and stayed quietly in the castle. Félix: (as Mr. Graham de Vanily) Oh, my queen. Did we entrust our legacy to the right princess? Kagami: (as Mrs. Graham de Vanily) She will fall in line, eventually. Félix: Confident that she would settle down as she matured, the king and queen allowed the curious princess to leave to study beyond the sea in another kingdom. There, she immediately found true love in a humble tailor. Félix: The tailor was making clothes so magnificent that they revealed the beauty of the soul of anyone who wore them. Although it made her parents furious, the curious princess gave up her rank, her wealth and her kingdom to live a bohemian life with the tailor.

Story wise, I have no idea why any of this was added since it adds nothing to canon. It's not like this finally explains why Gabriel and Emilie are poor while Amelie is wealthy. Along similar lines, it's not like Amelie's title has ever mattered. Prior to this play, I don't think that we even knew that she had a title or that she was the younger sister. The play is all about explaining things that we never had reasons to question in the first place.

My best guess as to why the writers wrote this pointless backstory is that they wanted to make Emilie seem even more pure and perfect so they went with the tired old trope of a rich girl giving up material things for the sake of love and art because good pure women don't care about material things! Only nasty, shallow women care about money. (Way to play into sexist tropes, guys.)

There may also be cultural elements at play here given that France doesn't have the greatest history with nobility, so giving up a noble title may be seen as good and pure to a French writer, but I don't know enough about French culture to say that with any certainty. If anyone who reads this blog is French and would like to chime in, then feel free!

While we're on the topic of the play, I wanted to point out that the above quoted passage is why I say that the Graham de Vanily parents can be as kind or as abusive as you'd like to make them. It's incredibly vague and you can read into it whatever you want to read into it. Were they good loving parents who were just upset about their daughter living in poverty or were they miserable controlling classist who Emilie fled England to get away from? It's up to you because you can get both reads from this. The play commits to almost nothing of value. Politicians could take lessons from this impressive level of noncommittal writing.

A better version of the play would have focused on things that actually matter to canon like the details of finding the miraculous and/or Emilie learning she's sick, but you could only have those details if they were coming from Nathalie or Gabriel. Félix is a terrible choice for a character to tell us the show's backstory because he knows so little of it, thus the play focusing on his largely pointless backstory.

#blckwhtepersona #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #Side note but looking up transcripts for this seasons is a total nightmare #The episode names are so confusing I keep thinking the play was in “Revelation” but it's actually “Representation”#Whoever came up with the names for this season is at the top of my shit list

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runnning-outof-time · 2 months

Text

Talk of the Town | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @red-riding-wood

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N)'s had enough of the whispering that always seems to happen when she's out and around Small Heath.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2694

A/N: I’m back!! I’m sorry it took so long for me to share this, and I hope it won’t be so long before I’m sharing another story. The two prompts I was given to use are bolded in the fic - I hope you don’t mind how I used them. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

(Y/N) sat down at one of the empty tables, excited to try one of the new menu items at her favorite café. It had been a while since she indulged herself in one of these sorts of treats, so she was more than ready to dig in.

Her peaceful reverie didn't last long. She was only minutes into her lunch when she began to hear whispers from the table of women to her right.

"I think that's her," one of them whispered. "That's Tommy Shelby's girl."

"Are you sure?" another asked, pulling a face as she glanced in (Y/N)'s direction, "she looks too...good."

"Yeah, I'm sure," the first responded, "I've seen her out with him."

"I wonder if she knows about the things he's involved in?" the third woman entered the conversation, pondering aloud to her friend.

"She has to," the first responded.

"I'm not too sure," the second said, "I'm not sure I'd be able to show my face like this if I was going home to a man like that," she reasoned.

"Hmm, I'm not sure I'd mind going home to him though," the first woman commented, a grin forming on her face as she leaned closer to her friends, who were also grinning.

(Y/N) almost lost her appetite when she heard the direction their conversation was heading in. She couldn't believe that they were speaking so candidly about her and her partner's relationship...and that they were doing so while sitting so close to her. They had to know that she was able to hear them.

"I'm going to ask her what it's like to share a bed with a gangster," the third woman announced, ready to get the answers straight from the topic’s mouth.

"No! You can't just walk over to her and ask that!" the first woman hissed, her eyes widening as she reached out to grab her friend's arm before she could leave the table.

That was when (Y/N) focused her eyes back on the plate in front of her. She waited on baited breath and silently hoped that the first friend would get the third to sit down. Thankfully the former's attempts to stop the latter worked, and the women decided to switch topics after that.

She thought that that would have been the last she heard from those women, but nothing could have prepared her for the fact that one of them - the third one that was hoping to speak to her earlier - decided to stop her as she was discarding her trash.

"You're with Tommy Shelby, right?" the voice came from behind, making (Y/N) quickly turn.

"I am," she answered, a bit of surprise laced into her voice.

"How do you do it?" the woman asked.

"What do you mean?" (Y/N) was now confused.

"How do you live with the fact that he's taking directly from the pockets of the poor and doesn't think twice about hurting anyone who stands in his way?" the woman didn't even think about what would be considered proper, and that truly shocked (Y/N).

Had she really said that to a complete stranger? And why was she saying such things about her partner?

It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. She blinked several times before responding, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you're talking about. Tommy's family doesn't run their business like that."

There was a moment of pause between the two as the other woman looked at (Y/N) kind of like she was waiting for her to say that she was joking and that she knew exactly why the Shelby family operated the way they did. But (Y/N)'s expression of confusion didn't change.

"You really...you really don't know how he handles business?" there was now surprise in the other woman's voice.

"I don't understand what you're saying, I've just told you that's not how they handle things," (Y/N) doubled down on her previous response.

"He must keep you locked away from certain parts of his life then," the woman stated, stifling her laughter. "Tommy Shelby's a full out gangster, darling."

A bit of incredulousness seeped into (Y/N)'s expression upon hearing the woman's statement. "I'm quite honestly insulted that you would speak of another woman's partner like that. Have you no manners?" she asked with a scoff.

"It's the truth. Everyone around town knows it," the other woman shrugged.

"It's still rude to suggest," (Y/N) responded, pursing her lips together tightly as she tried to keep composed. "Good day," she said then, tilting her chin up as she walked away from the woman without letting her get another word in.

No matter how hard she tried, the words of the woman at the café wouldn't leave (Y/N)'s mind. By the time she reached the home she lived on on Watery Lane, her frustration was just about to the point of boiling over. She didn't even care that she had slammed the door to the home shut.

"Goodness. Hello, (Y/N)," Polly's surprised, but still steady, voice made (Y/N) realize that she hadn't shut the door to an empty home.

"Hi, Pol," the younger woman was terse with her greeting.

Polly was able to feel the frustration as it was practically radiating off of (Y/N). She watched the younger woman carefully as she stood stiff in her spot, balling her fists and opening them in hopes that it would help regulate the emotions she was feeling.

"Well..." the older woman paused, letting out a sigh before continuing, "what is wrong with you?" she asked. She didn't say it in any demeaning sort of way, even though it may have sounded like such. If anything, she was concerned...(Y/N) rarely got flustered like this, so it wasn't hard to pick up that something had bothered her.

"I'm sick and tired of people treating me like I am some sort of animal stuck in captivity! Everywhere I go all I hear is whispers, and sometimes they lead to questions that make me look like a fool when I answer them, and I'm not sure how much more of it I can take!" (Y/N) didn't hold back from expressing what was frustrating her.

Polly pursed her lips. She gave the younger woman a once over, seeing how she was practically shaking with aggravation. She was just about to speak when (Y/N) exited the room.

The silence didn't persist for long though. The younger woman’s exit was followed by a sound of slight struggle and then a crash, which prompted a string of curse words. Polly stayed in her seat, knowing that her assistance wasn't something she would want in this situation.

The door opened again moments later, and this time Tommy walked through it. He immediately picked up on the expression Polly was wearing as well as the leftover tension in the room.

"What?" he asked his aunt, his eyebrows raising in question.

"(Y/N)'s in the kitchen," the older woman responded, pursing her lips after she spoke.

Tommy turned his head to the left slightly and kept his raised brow expression as if to say 'and?'.

Polly also responded nonverbally, widening her eyes and nodding her head in the direction of the kitchen, her way of saying 'see for yourself'.

Tommy sighed, removing his peaked cap and shoving it into one of his suit jacket pockets as he began walking towards the kitchen. It's always fucking something, went through his mind as he crossed the room's threshold. That thought immediately vanished when he saw the woman he was proud to call 'his' on the ground cleaning up a mess of cooking utensils. "What happened, love?" he asked her, his voice making her eyes snap from the floor to look in his direction. It didn't take long for him to see the puffiness surrounding them; she'd been crying.

"I just wanted to fix myself something to eat and when I went to open the drawer to grab a spoon it got stuck, because they're all stuffed into the same bloody drawer even though there are other places for them, and so I pulled on it and the drawer came out," she answered in a rambling mess, her frustration shining through in her words. She then bit on her bottom lip as it began to tremble, the earlier conversation flooding back in her mind as the topic of it was now standing in front of her. Tears began to brim in her eyes and she quickly looked away so Tommy wouldn't catch them.

But, of course, he did. "They're just utensils in a drawer, love. It's no harm done," he tried to tell her that it wasn't something worth crying over.

(Y/N) let out a choked laugh, shaking her head as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It's not the utensils, Tommy," she said, continuing to shake her head as she spoke.

"Then what is it?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows.

There was a pause. (Y/N) was unsure if she should bring what happened earlier up, or if she should let it rest. She was no longer angry, just upset that people - whom she'd never met - thought they had her and Tommy's relationship figured out. "I'm tired of defending myself," she sighed, deciding to go right to the heart of it all instead of beating around the bush.

Tommy was still confused. He was still stuck on the broken drawer and mess of utensils to understand why she'd respond that way.

(Y/N) was able to see that. With another sigh, she stood up and closed the distance between them. "There's so many people whispering...about you and I, and about the things that you do. I try my best to ignore them, but today a woman came up to me and asked directly how I could live with what you do. I felt like such a fool being placed in that position because it seems that people have a different opinion on your business than I. I'm just...I'm tired of being the talk of the town."

Tommy listened intently as (Y/N) shared her frustrations with him. He could hear how much these comments had been eating her up inside, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel an anger brewing towards these people. How could they choose the times when he wasn't around to get to the person that meant most to him?

"What type of business are you running?" (Y/N) asked after the silence had prevailed for a few moments.

It was a question that made Tommy clench his jaw and avert his eyes to the floor. He didn't quite know what to feel now. He wasn't angry at the fact that (Y/N) had essentially found out about what was actually happening outside of the betting shop floor…he wasn’t exactly hiding it from her. He was angry at the fact that it was people around town who told her about it. It was always his hope that he could keep her out of that side of things. She didn't need that darkness dimming her light.

"Tommy?" she softly prodded him, hoping for an answer.

"I do what I need to do to get things done, (Y/N)," he finally answered her, his voice flat.

His response didn't give much up front, but she was able to read between the lines of it. She exhaled a breath as his eyes met hers once more. "What happened to being honest with the business?"

"When has bein' honest gotten us anything, eh?" he asked her, his one eyebrow quirked in an inquisitorial manner.

(Y/N) sighed, unable to stop the corner of her lips from raising as she looked away for a moment and exhaled a laugh. She let out a sigh then, bringing her hand up to run it across her face. She truly didn't know what to think now.

"Are you upset?" Tommy's question broke the silence this time.

"Yes..." she paused, looking at him again, "but not at you," she made sure to clarify.

Tommy pulled a face in response to her statement, one that asked for her to continue.

"I'm upset that people feel the need to comment on my relationship with you, and that they..." she paused, dropping eye contact as she turned away from him, not wanting him to see how their words still affected her. She took a deep breath before continuing, "that they see me as too much of a fool to be with you."

She couldn't help but laugh at herself as she finished her statement. Maybe you are a fool because you don't know what he really does, she thought to herself. She thought she’d know everything about someone she’d been with for just about six years now. Hell she helped Polly keep the betting shop afloat while the boys were off fighting in France. She knew how things worked in the business. But these whispers started sometime after they returned. With the start of 1919 came (Y/N)'s wondering of why so many people were suddenly interested in the life of Tommy Shelby.

"Hey," Tommy stepped towards her, reaching out and taking hold of her left arm so that he could gently turn her back to face him. Doing so effectively brought her out of her thoughts and made her focus on him again. "Fuck what they have to say," he told her, a devilish grin forming on his lips as he attempted to lighten the mood.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened upon hearing his statement, and she brought her hands up to softly smack his shoulders. "Tommy!" she gasped, her mouth still gaped slightly in surprise. Could that really be his response?, she questioned herself before voicing her disbelief, "I can't believe that's your response," she said while laughing slightly.

"What they say doesn't matter, love," he told her, snaking his arms around her waist so that he could pull her closer to him.

"But still..."

"But nothing," he cut her off, his eyebrows raised. (Y/N) sighed and let her hands rest on his shoulders. The feeling of his suit jacket's material beneath her fingertips made her relax. Tommy truly felt like home to her. Just being in his arms for these mere seconds was making her feel better. "You and me...we're ok, right?" he asked her then, his voice soft as he waited intently for her answer. She was able to feel his gaze on her, but she kept her eyes fixed on his collar, her fingers running against the lapels of his jacket. "Right?" he asked again when he didn't receive a response, pressing his fingers against her sides as he pulled her slightly closer to him.

His actions made her let out a surprised giggle as their heads touched, and it also made her look at him once more. "We're ok," she affirmed, a smile now present on her lips as she continued playing with his lapels, "I just want you to stay safe."

"Always," he whispered, a smile playing on his lips as he assured her.

"And you'll let me in?" her voice was softer now as she looked at him through her eyelashes.

"I will," he whispered, his eyes flitting down to her lips.

"Good, because I need to have something to tell the women who just can't keep their thoughts to themselves," she stated, placing her hands on his cheeks so that she could raise his eyes to meet hers again. She knew what he was thinking of doing.

"(Y/N), fuck..."

"What they say, I know," she finished his sentence for him, smiling as he exhaled a laugh, "maybe..." she trailed off, a bit of a mischievous smile playing on her lips, "maybe I'll just tell them how good this is..."

"What's that?" was all Tommy was able to get out before (Y/N) closed the space and pressed her lips to his.

And if she did tell the whisperers about that, she'd indeed have them wondering.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

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tofixtheshadows · 4 months

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Hot take: Laios wouldn't actually mind an arranged marriage. Obviously "reluctant royal being pressured into marriage" is very fun for shipping purposes. But I have harlequin blood, so bear with me. Join me on this journey of character theorizing/shipping nonsense that makes it abundantly clear I have a Scrivener document I'm neglecting.

Laios was promised to someone from a young age. He and Falin both were; it's probably how their parents ended up together. They both broke it off by leaving their village, but it didn't seem to be a factor in Laios's own decision. And when Marcille, presumably, asks about his hypothetical love life (bicorn chapter), he not only brings it up readily, but actually seems kind of flattered? lmao

I love when smug Laios comes out. Underrated factor of Laios's personality for me is how much he enjoys being seen as cool. I think you'd expect Laios to be embarrassed or uneasy over this line of questioning, and the fact that he isn't is fun to me.

So when Yaad and his other old advisors bring up his need for a wife, Laios is ready to go along with it. Not necessarily thrilled by the prospect, but he was raised to think of marriage as a business arrangement you do because it's beneficial for your household/bloodline (as was often the case historically). He's already made the big step to claim a throne, and the idea of becoming village chief after his father seemed to have been vaguely in the back of his head all his life. Besides, if he has to do it anyway, I think he'd take comfort that there was a formalized process for an otherwise socially messy undertaking.

This dovetails neatly with my personal headcanon that Laios is gay but unaware of it. He comes from kind of a repressed culture- or at least I can imagine he does based on context clues- and has spent most of his life being ostracized in one way or another, feeling like he's on the outside of humanity. So he doesn't realize that his lack of attraction to women is unusual- he assumes that nobody really enjoys romance that much. It's not like his own parents married for love. It's just something people play up for stories, right?

It's all tangled up with his fraught desire for human connection and platonic companionship anyway. Meanwhile he's blithely unaware that the things he says about Toshiro are not normal bro things. Oh you'd totally marry Toshiro, Laios? Tell me more.

I see this in Marcille too. Firstly due to her unstable development, which has only recently allowed her to reach maturity (I headcanon her as somewhere between 20-22) and secondly due to her being a half-elf (infertile+a too-long lifespan), I think she has the expectation that she's simply not destined for love. The half-elf character she relates to in her favorite books says as much. So she, too, confuses a genuine lack of heterosexual attraction with the belief that this is just because of her half-elf status distancing her from it. Plus, she spent over a decade as a student/researcher in a nice little sheltered academic bubble, at an all-girls academy populated by adolescents. She's the most sheltered of all the characters: she's only spent the past year in the "real world", and she still focuses all her romantic attention on living vicariously through her favorite characters or her friends (except for Falin, conveniently!).

And Marcille would absolutely want to live vicariously through Laios and his future wife. She would not want him to go through a dispassionate formalized process: she wants her bestie to have a fairytale romance! What is the point of being a heroic king in a mythic castle if you can't even get a love story for the ages out of it?

This would result in a lot of Laios meeting with eligible bachelorettes at Marcille's urging, looking to Kabru for help the entire time and being grilled by Marcille afterwards about what he liked best about each girl. "She had nice, um, teeth?" They're both so close to getting it.

Kabru, meanwhile, is agitating for Yaad and the other advisors not lock the country into a hereditary monarchy, they have the chance to do something radical here, to break away from the systems that the elves and dwarves uphold. At the very least, let Laios marry for love, or formally adopt an heir and name them his successor if he wants, he's already sacrificed enough for the sake of Melini. Don't make him jump through these circus hoops for the chance of some trade agreements, we can get those without a royal marriage. And even if Laios was willing to go along with it, he does look at Kabru like he's his hero for sticking up for him.

The vague unhappiness Kabru feels at the idea of Laios being married off is easy for him to ignore. Kabru didn't actually get better at honoring or even recognizing his own wants just because he's moved past the dungeon. And Laios hasn't gotten the hint about his crush on Toshiro and is still 50/50 on saying casually shocking things, so when he remarks that he doesn't need a wife anyway when he has Kabru, he has no idea why that gets him the looks it does. After all, where he's from, men marry women to run their households, but Laios has castle staff for that, and Kabru is handling the rest?

That comment alone ticks one month off their collective gay awakening countdown.

Anyway. How many repressed gays in their twenties does it take to run a country?

Answer: Yaad can tell you.

#dungeonposting #DUNGEON MESHI SPOILERS #I always have to use that tag for the dumbest reasons. because of my harlequin blood.#Labru #you get that tag because that was the point of my post it just took awhile to get there #also pretend I made some kind of joke with a pun about screwing at the end. believe in me.#Golden Country trio #^tag for ME. rotating scenarios with them in my head is a personal treat.#I haven't figured out where Kabru falls yet #he's very bad at introspection and very good at denying himself #but god knows what a guy like Kabru who moves through society the way he does experiences #several possibilities present themselves and I haven't yet decided which one is most plausible. or funniest.#pairing: to be human

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yoonavii · 1 year

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Flirting with fire (pt.1)

OPLA! Sanji x Reader

A/n: I’ve never really been a Sanji girl but ever since the live action came out, I’m starting to love Sanji more and more XD also! The gif is from @adragonswhimsy. They have nice gifs so do check them out!

The kitchen at the Baratie was a hive of activity, but amidst the clattering pots and pans, you were in your own world, meticulously chopping and prepping ingredients for the next day's meals. It was a role you took seriously, a way to contribute your skills to the Baratie and help Zeff, who had been like a father to you. As the evening wore on, the day's rush finally subsided. It was now nighttime, and you were still engrossed in your work, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables the only sound in the kitchen. That is until the door swung open, and a familiar voice greeted you.

"Hey there, Y/N" Sanji's voice was like music, smooth and warm. You turned to see him standing there, a pile of dirty plates in his arms, his trademark cigarette perched between his lips. "Hey, Sanji," you replied, smiling warmly. You and Sanji had known each other for years, having become close friends while growing up together on the Baratie. Your bond was special, different from his usual interactions with women. It was more like that of close siblings.

Sanji set the dirty plates down, his eyes never leaving you. He leaned casually against the counter, watching your skilled hands work the knife. "What's cookin'?" he asked, a playful grin on his face. You chuckled, glancing up at him. "Just prepping for tomorrow. You know how it is," you replied, a hint of pride in your voice. Cooking was your passion, and you were good at it.

As you explained the dish you were preparing, something unexpected happened. In a fleeting moment of distraction, the knife nicked your finger, and you winced, withdrawing your hand. Sanji's reaction was immediate. He abandoned his casual posture, moving swiftly to your side. Taking your injured hand gently, he examined the cut with concern in his eyes. "Careful now; You know that knives aren’t something to be frivolous with." he scolded, though his voice held a note of genuine worry.

Your heart fluttered at his touch and his worry. "I know, I know," you said, attempting to brush it off. "Just a little slip." But Sanji was focused on tending to your wound. He fetched a small first-aid kit and carefully cleaned and bandaged your finger. His hands were surprisingly gentle, a far cry from his usual intense demeanor.

As he worked, you couldn't help but notice the sudden tension in the air. It was different from your usual interactions. The closeness, the intimacy of the moment—it felt charged with unspoken emotions. Sanji finished bandaging your finger and looked up at you, his face a shade pinker than usual. "There," he said softly. "All better."

Your heart raced as you met his gaze. With a playful grin, you couldn't resist teasing him a little. "Thanks, Sanji," you said, your voice low and sultry. "You always take such good care of me.” Sanji's eyes widened, and he blinked in surprise. It was clear your comment had caught him off guard, and his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. It was a rare sight to see the ever-confident Sanji flustered.

You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, feeling a newfound sense of closeness between you two. The playful banter continued late into the night, the tension gradually giving way to a comfortable warmth that only seemed to grow stronger with time. As the kitchen lights dimmed, you and Sanji found yourselves sitting at a quiet corner of the restaurant, sharing stories and laughter. It was a night unlike any other, and it left both of you with a lingering sense of something unspoken—a connection that went beyond friendship.

The night eventually came to an end, and you realized just how late it had become. You stretched, feeling the exhaustion of a long day's work catching up to you. "I should get some rest," you said, stifling a yawn. Sanji nodded in agreement, though there was a hint of reluctance in his eyes. "Yeah, you're right. It's been a busy day."

As you both made your way to your respective rooms, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and Sanji. It was as if a door had been opened, revealing a deeper layer of your relationship—one that held the promise of something more than friendship. Little did you know that this night would be the beginning of a journey filled with laughter, shared dreams, and the blossoming of a love that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to ignite.

PART TWO

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

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