#She wants to be recognized as a woman but things like the strange color of her hair and her height and her other half altmeri traits

[bellamontwasright]

The passive aggressive bimbofication of a transgender woman via daedric magic as a punishment for continual insubordination

[celestiamour]

ft. logan howlett x f! reader x wade wilson — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ logan walking in on you performing rituals on wade┊0.7k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: stereotypical depictions of rituals (don’t like, don't read), establish poly relationship, canon-typical blood, age gap

➤ author's note: i have so many random ass thoughts about dating these two

it started with him hearing the sound of a match being struck before the light scent of smoke wafted into his room, making him stir in his drowsy state. it’s not uncommon for candles to be lit at night, but it was a bit strange that these had no fragrance at all when both of you loved “bath and body works” ones with an overwhelming amount of perfume in them. he paid it no mind, rolling over and trying to get some sleep, knowing that he was too old to be up so late past midnight and that both of you should join him in a bit.

he then awoke with a start an hour later when he heard ceramic shattering and was met with the sharp scent of spilled blood, realizing neither of you were in bed with him, and jumped out of bed automatically assuming the worst. adrenaline pumped through his veins and his heart was beating so fast he wondered if it would implode, terrified that his worst nightmare of being under attack was coming true.

“what the fuck??” he guesses that the scene unfolding in front of him was better than a break-in, but it was still the most bizarrely unexpected thing he’s walked in on (which is saying a lot).

“oh, sorry for waking you up! i wasn’t being careful enough… i was moving the table and knocked over the vase,” you chuckled. 

“what… what on earth are you two doing?”

all of the living room furniture placed earlier in the day was shifted to make space in the center, the original carpet haphazardly rolled up in the corner was replaced by wade lying down on the floor, a crimson red pentagram painted around his body with symbols he didn’t understand scrawled everywhere and flickering candles set up at every corner illuminating the circle.

“well, uh… we just moved here so i was just checking to see if there were any lingering spirits or demonic entities! you know, how my mutation is contacting the supernatural… i do this every time i move…” you scratched your head, realizing how bad it sounded and looked even with the explanation. “i guess i should have told you what i had planned for tonight, sorry!”

logan knelt down to examine the substance, carefully wiping the edge of one of the lines with his thumb and immediately recognizing it as blood from the color and iron smell. being mutants with regenerative powers, injuries normally fatal to humans are regarded as nothing more than papercuts, yet the willingness wade had to donate his blood to this cause was still shocking. “and you just went along with it??”

“i will never deny a beautiful woman anything she wants, even if it’s my blood!” he declared with a thumbs up and a stupid lovesick grin on his scarred face. he probably thought the entire thing was pretty hot or something, which is so typical of him, maybe it wasn’t as much of a shock as he initially thought. “one-hundred percent safe, sane, and consensual!”

it clearly wasn’t the first two things, but whatever floats his boat since, again, you guys are mutants?

“aww, babe!” you placed a kiss on his forehead, making him giggle like he wasn’t being sacrificed at the moment. 

“just… be careful not to burn the place down…” at least no one was seriously hurt… things like this were going to be a regular occurrence with either of you being the instigator, he could feel it in his adamantium-covered bones, and he’s too old to try and wrestle with his lovers about what they do in their free time. “i’m going back to bed..”

the next morning, he will be greeted with breakfast in bed and lots of cuddles and kisses to make up for disturbing his rest last night, which was a nice surprise at first, but it becomes a weekly thing because you and wade are like children who simply can’t stay out of trouble and need to constantly apologize to him over it. truth be told, as grumpy as he may look, he isn’t complaining about the amount of affection he’s bombarded with during the day, especially because it’s funny to watch the two of you looking at him with big puppy eyes hoping he’ll forever you for accidentally blowing up a neighboring building or something.

[holdinbacksecrets]

uninhibited (and drunk) voicemails from seventeen

forever sending gratitude and love to j @un-love for helping assign these

seungcheol: “i watched you tonight with another man. he held your hand and kissed your forehead. he drank your tea first to check the temperature. he made you laugh. for real. i know because you covered your mouth, still feeling insecure about how far it opens when the reaction can’t be avoided—when the something said was so funny it surprised you. you’re wearing red. your arms were exposed for a while, and i felt my eyes prick with tears at the sight of more tattoos on your skin. ones i didn’t know about. maybe ones you mentioned when they were still just possibilities in your head. not once did i think i wouldn’t see them actualized. not once did i imagine another man’s fingers brushing the ink through the motion of draping his jacket around your shoulders.”

jeonghan: “i’m at home and alone, and it’s wrong to call you. it’s so unfair to call you. i didn’t know how to tell you that the wanting is scary. that the way we love each other is impossible—not for a second do i believe it’s possible to have again, and i’m fucking afraid, probably because i know how much you’ve grown. the thought of letting you down leaves a sour taste, and i’m trying not to be so fucking afraid.”

joshua: “i’m sobering up now, sitting on my mom’s back porch. earlier, i was trying to describe the color of your hair. the best i could come up with was blue frosting like the cupcakes she made for my 10th birthday party. isn’t that outrageous? embarrassing? in my head was a poem, but the alcohol released the silliest set of words i could’ve possibly used to describe a part of you.”

jun: “everything is weird. everyone is strange to me today except for you. i’m drunk. i lost my shoes at some point in the night i think. i can’t recognize anyone around me. their voices don’t sound familiar. i wish you were here. i wish you’d tell me this is miserable for you too; it’s not worth it anymore. would you tell me the truth if i asked? sorry. what a stupid question. i don’t know anyone more honest.”

soonyoung: “i should’ve watched you all day more often. i dream about that. i wanted to, but something always had my attention or interrupted its focus on you. i’m laying here with my eyes closed, imagining all the moments i did watch and wondering if every single one pieced together could consume an entire day.”

wonwoo: “is it ok that i still have your spare key? i’d like to believe it’s something you’d ask to get back, but i wonder if that call isn’t worth making. if the idea of seeing me makes you anxious. but you trust me. out of everyone to still have access to your home, it’s ok that it’s me. i feel sad thinking about it.”

jihoon: “you baked cookies. i froze half of them. there’s one left, and i’m debating whether or not to eat it today. it’s freezing outside, and any view through my window is ruined by the snow. it feels like the perfect night for a cookie with what’s left of my second americano like i can risk losing sleep, but what will be left from you if i give in? everything else feels lifeless—it’s been so long since you’ve touch the clothes and read the books.”

seokmin: “i’m going to a wedding tomorrow. your old neighbor is getting married, and i thought about so many things when he sent me the invitation. i thought he was in love with you for the longest time. remember that? it took me months to admit. then he told me he’s just protective, and i realized there are so many people who see us and care without us ever knowing. so i wondered about a what if between us… what if our paths crossing was shallow and they never intertwined? what if you were just a woman in the grocery store who i’d see once in a while if the timing was right? how long would i think about you before forgetting your face, before forgetting i ever saw you? unless i never would and end up talking about you in my old age to adult children who only know i loved their mother.”

mingyu: “is it ok to call you in the middle of the night? you told me i could. years have passed since that conversation. *laughs* is it strange to think about us back then? how we started on a park bench, basically dated for two years on a park bench. i still think about how your approach to reach me gave away your feelings. you started poised, avoiding eye contact. then it became goofy looks and confident strides before calling my name and skipping to singing the song stuck in your head while you ran to me. i can’t help but wonder what would it look like now?”

minghao: “if you listen to this voicemail, can you tell me what you want? whatever comes to mind after hearing the question. from something small to something weird and the the thing you believe is better left unsaid as if i’d judge the answer, but i won’t. i have no reason to judge you. all i have is curiosity and love and hope for your every day, every want, every touch, every song you sing, every picture you hang, and every night spent barefoot on the balcony- i want to marry you.”

seungkwan: “there’s something on my mind. i’ve wanted to tell you all day. i thought about it at breakfast and started texting you before my manager called and interrupted. so here it is: i used to not understand how tired you’d be with me around. i thought i was boring you for the longest time until i visited my sisters. they exchanged a knowing smile before telling me you’re completely comfortable, that you feel safe enough to slip into the kind of vulnerability that only sleepiness and sleep allow, with your guard lowered, and your heart open. i appreciate how much of you i’ve seen, how deeply i know you—knew you… know you? hmm…”

hansol: “are you traveling? i hope you’re traveling. i know it’s something you promised to do at the start of your 26th year. where did you go? … are you taking lots of pictures? … how does the moon look? that’s your souvenir: the moon in the sky a thousand miles away from home. when you told me the moon thing, i realized i knew nothing about you, and i wanted to know everything.”

chan: “you were in the audience tonight? i didn’t… i wasn’t… thank you for coming. i mailed a ticket, but it was returned to sender. *clears throat* you’re the only person i couldn’t shake wanting to be there. do you know what i mean? people from our pasts we wish could still be present, especially for things they witnessed in early stages. i could shake off all the other absences… old friends, a mentor, but you… *sigh* no way.”

[whatitshouldvebeen]

God I just had a massive angsty thought about Johnny’s girl, or captive for a better word, having to hide her pregnancy from the rest of the family. Nancy would be the only exception to this. Her sixth sense is crazy. But I was thinking about the delivery not going so smoothly, especially considering all the stress on the reader. You have to pretty much do it by yourself in a barn on a makeshift bed made of hay and a blanket, with Johnny only taking quick peeks in every now and then. The baby wouldn’t show any vital signs at first, and you’d like to think Johnny looks more concerned than he appears. You’re finally able to call him over, and get his help with things. The baby starts crying, though never having been a mother before, the reader knows the baby needs more right now than her and Johnny could both provide. Someone with more knowledge. You’d have to hand your infant over to Nancy and trust her with it for the first couple of days, not even knowing if it was going to be okay by the time it was returned to you. Johnny looks after you, despite feeling irritated and tied down in a seperate room in the house, arguments sprout over him thinking you’re overreacting, never having a hope in the world of understanding the emotions a new mother goes through.

Johnny Slaughter x reader

Daddy's a Killer

Contains: heavy angst, childbirth, and a mention of breastfeeding

MINORS DNI

Nancy never concealed her displeasure when Johnny decided to house you in the barn. A few months later, when he vented his frustration about you, she felt relief—finally, her son recognized you as the burden she always knew you were. Yet, when she and Johnny went to the barn to bring you back to slaughter, the sight of you stirred an unexpected reaction.

"You foolish boy," she muttered, eyes narrowing and shifting to Johnny. 

"What, ma? I'm gettin' rid of her like you been sayin' to!" he retorted. One of his hands muffled your anguished screams, while the other gripped your wrists, holding you in front of him as you desperately tried to twist away.

"How many times has Drayton told ya not to mess with the meat?" she scolded, her nose crinkling.

"Ma, I—" he began to protest.

"She's pregnant," Nancy stated flatly.

Color drained from Johnny's already pale face. "W-what?"

"Can't kill 'er. She's got your blood." Nancy grimaced. "You think you want rid of her now, just you wait 'till she's hormonal."

In his shock, Johnny's grip slackened, and you managed to wriggle free, falling to your knees in front of Nancy. "Please, let me go," you pleaded. "If you want to be rid of me, I'll never speak a word. I'll disappear, I swear it!"

The stern, dark-haired woman displayed no signs of sympathy as a smile stretched across her face. "Honey, you got my grandbaby in there, and every baby needs a family. You ain't leavin'."

You looked up from her shoes to her cold eyes, tears streaming down your face as Johnny harshly pulled you back up. The realization set in that there was nothing you could do.

–

The subsequent months unfolded in an unusual manner. Nancy, with an insistence to have Johnny treat you better for the sake of the baby, managed to curb his physical abuse. However, his relentless verbal tirades persisted beyond her control.

During those prolonged months, a subtle transformation occurred within Johnny. The sensation of feeling his baby through your stomach seemed to evoke genuine affection in his eyes. Strangely, this newfound tenderness extended to his "relationship" with you. He provided a pillow and blankets for the barn, heated your food, and even allowed you some fresh air daily.

Despite the improved conditions, humane treatment remained a distant concept. His anger flared, and the majority of your days were still spent in the old barn.

The difficulty of your pregnancy grew, confining you to bedrest (as much as hay covered in blankets could be considered a bed) during the final weeks. At this point, Nancy visited more frequently than Johnny, yet her conversations were solely centered around the baby.

"Bet it's a girl," she remarked one day. "You got that girl shine. When I was pregnant with my girls, I looked the same way."

Inquiring about her pregnancies, she revealed none of them came to fruition, hastily correcting herself. "'Cept for my little angel Johnny, of course!"

Suspicion regarding Nancy's authenticity as Johnny's mother lingered, but in the grand scheme, it seemed inconsequential. Revealing your thoughts to Johnny might only worsen the situation.

Then, the day of your contractions arrived. Within hours, the pain became so intense that screams were your only outlet. When Johnny returned home, he came to see you, and instantly regretted it.

"Ma, why is she so pale?" he asked.

"Somethin's wrong," his mother replied, replacing the towel on your forehead. In the throes of labor, you lay on your back, pushing with all your weakened might.

Your strength had dwindled daily, and Johnny, not the most adept caretaker, had left you spending more time with Nancy in the last month of your pregnancy. Despite her care, you knew it was only for her grandchild's sake.

"Push! Come on now, I see their head!" she shouted, urging you on. You screamed, head thrown back into the sweat-drenched pillow. Johnny, stationed outside, smoked like a freight train, only peeking in occasionally. Comfort was beyond his capacity, a fact you came to understand long ago.

"One last push," Nancy urged, and you obeyed, your child slipping into her waiting hands. "It's a girl!" she exclaimed, but then fell silent, her face stricken.

"Is she okay?" you asked wearily, attempting to raise your head higher to see her. The baby had dark brown hair, like her daddy. She was limp.

Nancy flipped her over, holding her head and body, rubbing and slapping her back. 

"What's going on?" Johnny said as he appeared at your side. You'd like to think he sounded worried. Your attention, however, remained fixed on your lifeless baby. Silent screams of anguish echoed as you witnessed Nancy's attempts to revive the child who had been kicking happily in your stomach that very morning.

Then, your daughter coughed, rasping for air. Water bubbled out of her lungs, wetting the barn floor. Nancy cradled her close, attempting to soothe the wailing newborn.

"Is she okay? Can I see her?" you asked, reaching out desperately. Nancy, however, refused to look at you.

"Always knew you was a piece of work, girl. Can't even birth a baby right when it don't die in your womb. She's weak and frail, like you. You don't deserve this girl," she said coldly, bouncing the baby gently as it laid against her shoulder, still crying.

"Please give me my baby," you wailed, stretching your arms out for her desperately.

Surprisingly, it was Johnny who took your little girl from Nancy. His mother glared at him with steely eyes as he placed his daughter in your arms.

"A baby needs their mama," he said, watching your face as it filled with affection for your perfect, tiny baby girl. He turned back to his mom. "She gotta feed her. You can take her back when she's done, but she won't get better without her mama."

"Fine," she spat, sitting up straight, the blood from your baby staining her dress. "But she's mine any time she's not eatin'. I gotta make sure she gets better, and your slut clearly don't know how to take care of a baby."

Johnny agreed, and you knew protesting would only strain your chances of spending time with her at all. It was true; she was your first baby, and you could tell she was sick by the bluish tone to her skin and her struggle to latch onto you. Yet, she was alive, in your arms, and that was all that mattered.

"Bring your girl into the spare bedroom. Better 'n me havin' to go out to the barn just to feed the baby," Nancy said, and Johnny obeyed, picking you up with what you could delude yourself into thinking was genuine care before bringing you inside his mother's house, your baby clutched tightly to your chest all the way.

–

As you recuperated in Johnny's mom's house, Johnny reluctantly assumed the role of caretaker. He assisted with your baths, helped you get dressed, and, surprisingly, inquired about your well-being at least once a day. It felt odd—a begrudging care, tinged with resentment, yet undeniably present. He wasn't accustomed to showing empathy.

During the feeding sessions with your baby, occurring five to eight times a day, Johnny surprisingly chose to be present more often than not, expressing a peculiar tenderness. He'd stroke your hair, murmuring, "She's gettin' stronger every day. She'll be okay in no time." 

Yet, in moments when your baby was not present, Johnny's patience wore thin with your perpetual concerns.

"My ma's got her! You ain't gotta be so whiny!" he complained, rolling his eyes.

"But the last time I saw her, she seemed kind of out of it. Can you at least check on her?" you asked anxiously.

"Ma would tell me if she needed somethin'. You're overreacting like ya always do."

The desire to shout, to hurl the bedside lamp at him, surged within you, but you knew it would be futile. Johnny would never take you seriously.

After all, you were a year past your "expiration date", Johnny liked to "joke". You needed to make yourself useful, to show your thanks for the fact you were still alive. Your daughter needed you for now, but when she got older, Nancy could take over… and she wouldn't even remember you. 

The thought made your stomach tie in knots. And as you looked into the fed-up eyes of your captor, you knew your place in his world would only become more and more tenuous. You had to be perfect for him. For your daughter. 

Forever.

[markantonys]

My Mom Reacts To: wheel of time season 2 episodes 1-4 (season 1)

episode 1

"if i had to carry water all that way for a bath, i'd get a smaller bathtub" you know what? that is a very fair point. just get a smaller tub, moiraine!

mom, #1 Lan Stan: so, he doesn't have any powers, right? except cunning and strength and loyalty of course me: of course

mom: so liandrin wants nynaeve to become red because she........doesn't want her to have a warder? me doing a great aes sedai truth-telling: nynaeve is really powerful so liandrin wants to recruit her for her own team

my dad predicted moiraine was scamming bayle domon and loved it when it was revealed that she was. as always, not too much commentary from him because he remains silent and seems to not be paying attention for most of the time, only to randomly come out with a completely correct prediction or read on a scene.

"i don't think it's true that neat and tidy things can't be worthwhile 🙄" clearly my mom subscribes more to the Egwene School Of Thought than to the Alanna School Of Thought

lan to moiraine after she is Mean to him: make dinner yourself mom: GOOD FOR YOU

when lan brings her the plate later and puts it on top of the maps: "what if he gets greasy food all over her maps?"

"ugh i hate dark scenes where i can't see anything" [scary fade appears] "okay maybe it's good that i can't see"

episode 2

my mom got all confused about rand's dream of him killing his friends and wondered at first if it was real, please pray for her when tel'aran'rhiod is introduced later

"HE'S BALD??????" all of us when we first saw s2 rand's new look djkfgjh

"they must like him here if he gets free food" my boy, beloved wherever he goes :')

she wasn't particularly fond of mat last season, but he's gotten quite a few laughs so far this season! (notably the moment when we ALL fell in love with New Mat, when he was miming liandrin locking the door)

she gave an annoyed TUH! at elayne dissing egwene's room, but didn't comment further, possibly because i'd just told her 20 seconds earlier that elayne was my favorite character and she didn't want to offend me jdkfgh

she was like "wait, is she blue or green???" during a scene where alanna was wearing a slightly-darker-than-normal green outfit, so i think it was definitely a good call by the show to dress aes sedai in their ajah colors always. hard to keep track otherwise!

after moiraine had her hand on her knife when verin revealed she knew about the dragon: "what was she gonna do?? just stab her right in front of all the others??? that's ridiculous!" djkfjg points were made! poor moiraine just kinda panicked and lost all her braincells for a moment there.

my mom was a randgwene shipper last season so i thought she was gonna be pissed about rand hooking up with a strange new woman whilst egwene mourns his death, but she has not said a single word about that situation yet! i did once catch her reading lanfear's wiki article which she'd gotten onto after reading lan's because "i just want to know what happens to him and i'm not going to read all those books" so maybe she retained some info from lanfear's article that made her suspect something fishy with selene?

she recognized min from s1 right away and hastened to add her to her handwritten character list, when other characters needed a couple scenes to get that honor, and i remember she laughed a lot at min's lines last season and she did again today. guys, if my mom becomes a min stan, i may never recover lmao (i'm mostly kidding, show!min has done nothing wrong and is cool. MOSTLY kidding.)

re: the list, i told her she wasn't allowed to google and print out a list of characters because she would see spoilers, only to accidentally spoil her myself last season by instinctively writing liandrin's name down in the "bad guys" column and making her ask "wait, so she's ACTUALLY a villain, not just mean??", rip (but i played it off as "oh she's just unfriendly to moiraine so that's why i put her there" so we shall see whether or not she ends up being surprised by the black ajah reveal)

when min was saying how she sees glimpses of the pattern, my mom made a connection to perrin seeing the past earlier, which i thought was very interesting! (since we hadn't yet learned that what he saw was actually a sending from the wolves.) min's viewings and wolfbrothers are the two major magical powers that have nothing to do with the one power, and it always minorly bugged me that they don't Fit In to the rest of the magic system (despite my apparently-hypocritical mocking of people who get hung up on lore rules etc haha), so i just thought it was neat to think of them in conjunction with each other.

mom, shocked and dismayed: MAT'S GOING TO KILL RAND???????? me: [vibrating with glee over The Great Cauthor Stabbening]

when nynaeve is taken to the arches: "so is she getting a promotion?"

there was some line during the moiraine-lan divorce that got a big offended gasp from our #1 Lan Stan, but i forget which one it was (it wasn't "we were never equals" it was an earlier one)

my dad just laughed when they first showed suroth and her redonkulus getup jkjfg the correct reaction to the pomp and ceremony of seanchan high blood

episode 3

when the aes sedai were saying nynaeve was ready to take the test my mom was like "NO SHE ISN'T!!!!" and was pressed about them rushing her into it

during the bandit attack in the test: "boy, i wouldn't want to live in this world!"

when nynaeve left the tower my mom was like "is this what happens in the books?!" and i couldn't reveal yet that it was still part of the test so i just instinctively said "you'll see" which is my response to everything, and she was like "no i won't, i'm not reading all these books" lmao

my dad during the version of mashiara playing during the lanaeve reunion: why is "somewhere over the rainbow" playing

sheriam: she wasn't ready mom: THAT'S WHAT I SAID!!!!!!!!!!!

she was genuinely very upset for a moment because she thought nynaeve was dead, but i think she then guessed pretty quickly that It Ain't Over Yet

scene transition from nynaeve being left in the arches over to the seanchan: "we're going from bad to worse!"

i was dithering over uno's impending death because i didn't want to spoil them but i thought my mom might want a trigger warning, and thankfully my dad went "that horn looks like it's in a dangerous spot" when they first made uno kneel, so i was all clear to say "yeah this is about to get gory" lmao

my dad wondered if suroth was the dark one which fascinated me! i think everyday negroes had the same thought, iirc. i guess it IS the logical conclusion when you know that ishy is the dark one's right-hand man and in this scene we see him being suroth's right-hand man!

my mom thought elayne might be evil or a spy! how could she! i guess she isn't accustomed to wheel of time strangers just being friendly without an ulterior motive djkfg i didn't outright say her theory was wrong because i'm not about to be a booksplainer, but i'm sure i was so visibly baffled at the idea of elayne being evil that i shot down the theory nonetheless haha

when liandrin goes to visit mat again: "how does she have time for all this? she has her sick son, she has mat, and she has whatever else she does at the tower"

when liandrin blames mat for nynaeve's death: "this lady is CRAZY!!"

mat's "is that an 'i'm here to murder you' stare or a 'light i never realized how handsome you are' stare" line was a big hit! love to see my boy getting some appreciation in this house

...............which he promptly squandered when he a) initially left his cell without freeing min too, and b) did not go comfort egwene. but i pointed out that liandrin's been psychologically tormenting him for months into thinking his friends are better off without him, because i couldn't bear to see them judge my boy!

"it's like we're in 18th century france!" was the first thing out of my mom's mouth when they went to the cairhienin party, i'm sure the costume designers would be thrilled!

mom: how did this lady from the poor district get them into a fancy party? and how could she afford these clothes? 🤨 me: 🤷👀

when logain pours out the wine: "AFTER ALL RAND'S HARD WORK TO GET IT!!"

why did my dad laugh when the inn was on fire jdkfg maybe he just likes to see rand have a bad time

mom: jeez, maybe rand shouldn't stay in other people's houses anymore me: i'm sure rand's thinking the same thing

mom at the end of the test: it's so sad that they keep getting glimpses of the nice lives they could've had 😔

episode 4

mom 2 seconds before the camera reveals who the visitor is: is her little sister moiraine? [camera shows moiraine] mom: I GUESSED SOMETHING FOR ONCE

"it's pretty rude to show up to someone's house and then say 'i don't have time to hang out with you'!"

selene: the fire wasn't your fault rand mom: well it kinda was actually

there was some moment where my dad referred to "sneezing and burning down an inn, or whatever he did" and it killed me, i wish i could remember the context bc it was even funnier in context

"i speak with the amyrlin every time i open my mouth" was also a hit! as was perrin asking if he would turn into a wolf and elyas saying "don't be stupid"

mom when moiraine waltzes into the foregate dressed to the nines: i thought she wanted to keep a low profile

just earlier that day we'd been bemoaning the lack of pockets in women's clothing, as one does, so my mom was like "[delighted] now THAT'S a pocket!" when moiraine fit a whole-ass knife into the pocket of her fancy dress. WOT costumers understand the importance of giving girls pockets! lanfear's outfits have a lot too

my dad said "she seems like a bad guy" about selene during the mountaintop scene, he been knew! but he ended up falling asleep and missing the reveal that he was right

meanwhile, mom: "i'm just waiting for a monster to crawl up that cliff and get them"

when alanna & co go through lan's bags to get the poem: "aww, i thought they were his friends! 😔"

mom: too bad moiraine won't just ask her sister about rand, she talked to him at the party! anvaere: so if you want to know where that redheaded boy is, you'll have to ask me very nicely over tea mom: [just as smug as anvaere]

when ishy shows up at min's room: "how is he EVERYWHERE????"

she didn't seem TOO surprised when liandrin attacked the girls, and she clocked that liandrin was working for ishy after this scene with min (or rather, she asked me if that was the case and i said "you'll see")

she let out the fondest chuckle when rand was like "[choking back tears] i'm going to leave now, thank you" he is BABY YOUR HONOR!!!

as the Lanfear Reveal started my mom said "i just knew she was evil" so that must be why she was so silent on the relationship and so un-judgmental of rand, she must've clocked selene's Bad Vibes from the start! or else she retained something from reading lanfear's wiki article a while back lmao

even so, she went "OH MY GOSH!!!!" and clapped her hands over her mouth in shock when moiraine slit lanfear's throat, which i think is one of her biggest reactions to anything in either season so far! the initial stabbing, zero reaction, but the followup throat-slitting, freakout.

the "i'm a monster too" line + Undead Lanfear Moment has her CONVINCED that forsaken are some kind of creatures or zombies, i'm trying to explain they're just humans who are really powerful and evil haha

at the final shot of lanfear: "i'm going to have nightmares! i'll have to go read my murder mystery to calm down before bed." duality of woman

[haesunflower]

the soulmates unfortunately series (zb1) [preview]

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ABOUT. here's the thing about soulmates, once you meet the one that is meant for you, you start to age. the biological clock starts to tick, and you are no longer the fresh faced 20 year old. years go by, and next thing you know it, you've grown old and wrinkly – right next to the love of your life. but here's the thing about y/n, she hated that.

y/n has had many soulmates in her lifetime, 4 of which had made a significant impact on her life. namely, her first husband, kim jiwoong. the man that she had a daughter with, zhang hao. the husband that raised her daughter, sung hanbin. and finally, ricky shen. (un)fortunately for her, her soulmates keep dying.

genre: romance with adult themes warnings: mentions of death, blood, character death, killers, cursing, etc. contains adult themes. each chapter will have specified warnings. note: yujin is not in this series as he is not 18 yet.

CHAPTERS

chapter zero: the first few soulmates

chapter one: the man she first married, kim jiwoong

chapter two: the man she had a daughter with, zhang hao

chapter three: the man that raised her daughter, sung hanbin

chapter four: unfortunately, ricky shen

chapter five: the finale

PREVIEW OF CH ZERO. (below the cut)

“Got anything that’ll get me drunk in the next ten minutes?” 

You plopped down on the bar stool, haphazardly placing your purse next to you. The bartender is eyeing you strangely, as if in disbelief that you’re even inside their hole in the wall establishment. 

You sigh and pull out your identification card, a laminated piece of junk that tells you how old you really are. Scratch that, how old you are meant to be. He picks up the card and raises it up next to your face, comparing the woman in the picture to the you that sits in front of him. It reminds you that you need to get it renewed…again. After all, the last time you updated your photo was sometime in the 80s, reflecting a version of you with big hair and large colorful earrings. You don’t blame him for wanting to double check, contrasting the all-black ensemble you currently sport. 

“Listen pal, I just buried my daughter today. I would appreciate it if you could get on with it”. You might not blame him, but you are impatient. 

He slides your ID card back and pours you a whiskey on the rocks. “Sorry for your loss ma’am” he solemnly extends his condolences as he places your drink in front of you. You pick it up, raising it and nodding a “thank you” before taking a large gulp. It burns. 

You outlived your daughter. And you wonder if you’ve been going about life in all the wrong ways.

Atop the alcohol display at the bar is a small TV, flashing a report about a young woman named Somi who was murdered and found dead at her home – leaving her husband a widower. The news station flashed a photo of the blonde couple, sharing that they had just gotten married a week ago. She was beautiful. A shame. 

At that moment, a tall man enters the bar and decides to take a seat next to you. Other than the fact that he too, is dressed in all black – you feel a deeper sense of similarity. Like kindred spirits, you recognize broken souls like yours. You order two more rounds of the whiskey the bartender gave you. 

“I heard about your late wife in the news, I’m sorry for your loss.” You feign sympathy and slide the glass to the man next to you. 

He looks taken aback at first, but accepts your offer. Now facing you, he raises his drink to you. You do the same.

He’s strikingly handsome, with platinum hair and dark eyebrows. You also don’t miss that he’s dressed in Yves Saint Laurent from head to toe. He takes a peek at your ID card still laying on the table, making sure to catch your name. 

“Next one’s on me, Y/N” he says, taking another swig at his whiskey, finishing his glass. He calls on the bartender, and buys an entire bottle for the two of you. The bartender returns his credit card, with the name ‘Shen Quanrui’ engraved. 

“Thank you Quanrui, that’s very generous of you.” 

He puts on a small smile, almost no one calls him by his legal name. “You can call me Ricky” he says as he pours into your glass. 

“Alright Ricky. Here’s to life.” you raise up. It feels inappropriate to be clinking glasses on the day you buried your daughter, but you figured you could make an exemption. Ricky too, seemed to be going through the same thing with his late wife. 

“To life.” he responds, tapping his glass against yours. 

Just two broken souls who had lost someone important in their lives, drinking to fill the hollowness. You almost don’t feel the familiar bloom in your chest, tugging at your entire being like a magnet trying to find its other half. And if you do feel it, you pretend it’s the whiskey burning its place in your heart. 

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[enchantedchocolatebars]

The Bum Roll

Summary: An interesting item is discovered by Kid Philip inside a laundry basket.

Original headcanon

Ao3 version

Enjoy!

As the warm sun casts a gentle glow on the set of clothes hanging on a clothesline in the front yard of a home, a woman hummed while putting each article of clothing into her round basket.

Once the final article of clothing was placed on top of the crisp pile, the woman placed her basket down in the sun and returned inside.

"That this, evil witch!" Philip cried out as he engaged in a pretend battle with an imaginary witch while on his way home.

As he struck and stabbed the "enchantress" multiple times, both his attacks and footwork were slightly uncoordinated.

During combat, Philip noticed something crescent-shaped in a laundry basket in someone's yard when he looked to his right.

"Huh?" Approaching the basket, he managed to get a better look at the item as he picked it up.

He then began squeezing and stretching the strange object, noting how soft it felt in his grasp.

"I've never seen something like this before," he whispered to himself in wonderment, tilting his head.

"I wonder what it could be."

As Philip continued to stare at the item, an idea of what it could be came into his mind.

A loud gasp soon escapes him, and an excited smile dances on his lips as his blue eyes fill with stars.

"Of course!" he shouted and hurried home to show his brother his new discovery.

Opening her door, the woman from before goes over to her basket and grabs it as she heads back into her home once more, failing to notice her missing farthingale.

...

"Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!"

"Hm?" The eldest turned his gaze when he heard his little brother burst through the front door, his bright voice brimming with excitement as he called out his name.

"Yes, Pip?" Caleb asked with a smile as Philip rushed up to him with what appeared to be a padded roll.

Philip showed off his recent discovery with great pride as he spoke.

"Caleb, look at this cool piece of armor that I found! Witches wear it while carrying out their evil deeds to protect themselves! We have to try it on! If we do, we might be able to absorb their magic and use it against them!"

As his brown brows furrowed, the brunette had a cute, mischievous smile on his face.

"Can you imagine the frightened look on their faces when they see us wearing this?" he inquired with a dark chuckle.

However, the only one who had a frightened expression was Caleb.

He quickly recognized the type of garment his brother was holding, and he felt the color drain from his face.

"P-Pip, where on earth did you get that from?!" Caleb squeaked out in shock, his eyes wide.

"Oh, this?" Philip began with a placid smile. "I found it in a laundry basket! Now help me put it on! Does it go on like this?" he asked, putting the padding roll around his hand like a bracelet.

When that doesn't feel right, he takes it off and places it around his neck like a necklace. "Maybe like this?"

"N-No!" Caleb shouts, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he quickly but gently removes the garment from Philip's neck and holds it. "This is not meant to be worn by you, Pip."

"It's... not?" Philip blinked innocently. "Then... who's it meant for?"

"It's... meant for girls...," Caleb explained nervously, scratching the back of his head while breaking eye contact and looking away awkwardly.

He silently prayed that Philp wouldn't inquire further with questions.

"Girls?" Philip asked incredulously. "Caleb, why the heck would a girl want to wear that thing?"

"Well... it's so that... she's want to make her... look..." Caleb sighed, deciding to bring an end to the conversation.

"Look, we'll discuss it later when you're older."

"But Caleb--"

"When you're older, Pip!"

[pan-gaa]

Apothecary diaries is a hidden gem!

A short and quick summary plus me being obsessed with it.

The story involves Maomao an apothecary raised in the red light district, she then gets kidnapped and made to work as a maid in the imperial court. Her intelligence and talent are later recognized and she starts being asked to solve various strange things happening in that side of the castle. There are many secrets and conspiracies going around involving people or varios position and powers. This is based on historical Chinese period may I add which is very important to remember since it ask a lot of context.

Ok I know it was very superficial but I want people to give it a chance. This story is something I dint thought I’ll love so much but it truly is an amazing story. At first the anime was marketed kind of like a Shoujo? At least from the previews I saw before which couldn’t be farther from the truth. Contrary to the artstyle and colors, this is not a rose colored shoujo! This story covers real issues involving sex work, social classes, how woman are treated in history overall. Jinshi, the male lead, is someone who supports the main character well and is not there only for the tension. This is a drama mystery that can seem pretty simple at the start but it unfolds beautifully into more lore that just grabs at you and you can’t look away.

Now I may be biased because I love and consume other historical Chinese media like MXTX novels but I would say that I had absolutely no expectations for this series when I started it. In fact I only did start it because of a friend convincing me to watch it with them and I couldn’t be more glad we did. If you are someone who is into Josei or pretty realistic mysteries I think you would enjoy this story.

[honeysylvan]

Aiko Shimizu for @dreambot's Lovers Rock BC Challenge!

Cringe video game streamer and wannabe idol! More info under the cut 🩷

BIOGRAPHICAL

Name: Aiko Shimizu Age: 23 Pronouns: she/her Gender: Woman Sexuality: Bisexual Ethnicity: Japanese Traits*: Cringe, Lovebug, Geek, Music Lover, Animal Enthusiast + Gregarious Additional Traits: Happy Infant, Happy Toddler, Practiced Host, Compassionate, Irresponsible, Chopstick Savvy, The Knowledge, Night Owl Aspiration: World-Famous Celebrity Degree: N/A Career: Pro-Gamer (Video Game Streamer) Celebrity Level: Rising Star ★★✩✩✩ Celebrity Perks: Corporate Partnership, Influencer, Noticeable Celebrity Quirks: A Stan! Lifestyle(s): Techi Likes & Dislikes:  Activity - Acting, Comedy, Dancing, Media Production, Mischief, Photography, Romance Skill, Singing, Video Gaming | Bowling, Fishing, Research & Debate, Rocket Science Color - Pink | Orange Conversation Topics - Affection, Compliments, Discussing Hobbies, Gossip, Jokes, Physical Intimacy, Silly Behavior | Arguments, Deception, Malicious Interactions, Potty Humor Sim Characteristics - Funny Sims, Idealist Sims, Pet Enthusiasts, Spirited Sims | Argumentative Sims, Nature Enthusiasts, Pessimistic Sims Music Genre - Classical Music, Pop Music, Romance Music, S-Pop Music, Winter Holiday Music | Americana Music, METAL MUSIC, Ranch Music, Strange Tunes Turn-Ons & Turn-Offs:  Way of Life - Interpersonal, Media & Technology, Performer, Sense of Humor | Engineering, Taken Characteristics - Emotional Decision Makers, Idealist, Optimistic, Pet Enthusiast, Spirited | Ambitionless, Argumentative, Messy Romance Styles - Affection, Gift Giving, Physical Intimacy, WooHoo | N/A Hair Color - Auburn Hair, Black Hair, Blonde Hair, Brown Hair, Hot Pink Hair, Orange Hair, Platinum Hair, Red Hair | Gray Hair Outfit Color - Black Clothes, Blue Clothes, Red Clothes | Brown Clothes, Orange Clothes Fashion - Costumes | N/A Skills: Acting - 6 | Baking - 3 | Charisma - 7 | Comedy - 5 | Dancing - 3 | Entrepreneur - 5 | Logic - 6 | Media Production - 4 | Mischief - 5 | Photography - 4 | Programming - 6 | Romance - 4 | Singing - 8 | Video Gaming - 9 | Wellness - 4

STORY

Like so many children, when Aiko was a kid she dreamed of becoming a world-famous pop star. Unlike so many adults, Aiko never grew out of that dream.

When Aiko was four and growing up in Mt. Komorebi, she saw her first S-pop idol performing on TV. She was instantly hooked and knew she wanted that to be her life, and knew that one day her wish would be fulfilled.

Except, it wasn’t.

Aiko was just a little bit too… weird to become a popular, successful, palatable idol, not to mention her complete lack of drive. She might’ve wanted the idol life, but between her cringe-y humor, obsession with all things nerdy, and chronic lack of responsibility, Aiko never got the life she dreamed. At least, not yet. Despite being 23—nearly retirement age for idols—and having zero experience, she’s convinced that someday, she’ll be recognized as the talent she is and finally, finally make it to stardom.

That’s not to say she has no experience in the spotlight, because she does—just not as an idol. Aiko’s obsessive love of “nerdy” hobbies ended up paying off for her when she started a video game streaming channel and managed to secure a decent following. Her “weird” behavior and lackadaisical personality—traits that were points against her in the idol world—came off surprisingly endearing on-screen, and she quickly rose to minor-celebrity status on SimTube and other streaming platforms.

But while Aiko might enjoy her life as a streamer far more than she’d expected, her newfound fame is, to her, simply a means to an end—the chance for her childhood dream to finally be made a reality. Perhaps, if she amasses a big enough following, she can finally secure an agent… and what better way to boost her popularity than to apply to the hit new dating show, Lovers Rock?

FUN FACTS

Is a very eclectic gamer—she loves a wide variety of video game genres, though her favorites are single-player RPGs

One of her signatures is that she’ll try any game at least once. This leads her fans to rally and mass-suggest the strangest games they can find, especially since somehow she always manages to make them entertaining to watch

Moved from Mt. Komorebi to San Myshuno the day she turned 18

Despite desperately wanting to be an idol, she’s too irresponsible to actually put the work in to even try. She sort of tripped into being a semi-successful streamer

Had a great childhood and very loving parents, who support her dream but are pretty clueless about “idols” and “streamers”

Is an only child and was spoiled rotten

A hopeless romantic who wants a whirlwind romance to sweep her off her feet. But she’s never had a relationship that’s lasted more than a couple months…

Is very affectionate (physically and verbally) and kind. While she seems like she’d be self-centered, she isn’t—just a bit delusional about her lifelong dream. When it comes down to it, she’s a good person!

Is actually quite good at singing, and a passable dancer, so she wouldn’t actually make a bad idol in that regard

LOVES animals, and owns one very affectionate cat

Her favorite animal is cows, and her favorite fruit is strawberries, so she decided to embody the “strawberry cow” aesthetic as much as possible

Despite wanting to be a pop star, her favorite type of music is actually show tunes

*I use the More Traits in CAS mod, but the first 3 personality traits (cringe, geek, lovebug) alone work just fine!

If you read this far... omg thank you so much LOL

Private DL if chosen!

[siffrin-enthusiast]

hello! I don't follow you but I've seen your post about the fact Tumblr is banning trans women, black people and censoring posts about palestine for no reason float around, I had no idea that was happening, so thanks for pointing that out, but also, do you have more info on that? This might be a huge ask but this is such a strange and sad thing to hear about and I want to know more about it if that's okay.

hi anon! i would like to point out that i'm not one of the marginalized groups being censored by tumblr (as i'm a white, american transmasc) and i recognize that i'm very privileged to not have been censored and have the ability to speak on this, with resources predominantly gathered by trans women and people of color, so in future i would reccomend you ask someone who is a victim of transmisogyny/racism by the tumblr staff. that being said, i'll do my best to educate you and point you in some good directions. if anyone else wants to add anything that i missed to this, or correct any mistake i've made, feel free to do so!

tw for transphobia and screenshots of explicit calls to violence (there will be a clear TW so you know where it is.)

if this gets my account exploded, it’s been real.

the most recent example that made site-wide news was banning the transfemme user predestrogen (also known as rita) who was undergoing transphobic harassment and mass false-reporting for sfw pictures (here's a second tumblr user i found undergoing the same kind of harassment and here's a second account of rita's experience with photomatt from a friend of hers). she reported these threats and false reports, to no avail (as a post here details matt's response to terfism), and got pissed off and made a VERY obviously joking post about the site's ceo mattphoto’s car being exploded with hammers. this was very clearly one of the absurd joke threats tumblr is known for. this resulted in predestrogen getting banned, with matt nearly calling the police on her, and furthermore, followed onto twitter by matt.

here is the tumblr post in question that started everything.

here's one of MANY tweets of matt's to rita, and to do your own research a post i found with multiple more of them.

following users to a platform without them mentioning you? IS REALLY BAD. he deliberately searched for that account and sent multiple replies back to predestrogen. and hey, while we're here, he also..stalked the tags for a little while LMAO and kept replying to random users.

as you can hopefully see, this is very obviously a joke threat. "i hope your car is covered in exploding hammers" is not a credible threat of violence. all of this over..this post.

you don't even need to take my word for it. here is a dropbox folder of screenshots of his that you can personally look through.

please note that this is ONE recent example of a disabled trans woman being banned without violating the tumblr terms of service in the sea of many trans women and people of color who have likewised been banned despite not violating TOS, unlike a few that i can find within about three clicks from my post that went viral. i have reported both of the below replies openly calling for violence against immigrants in the comments of this post already yesterday, and they have not been removed.

tw: explicit calls for violence.

scroll past this section if you do not want to see them.

these are not joke threats. i don't think i need to explain why talking about shooting immigrants is really fucking bad. i’m aware that tumblr has to deal with a large number of reports, but i hope you can recognize the absurdity of exploding hammers being banned and having the threat of a police call and followed on a different platform while actively calling for death to immigrants remaining unchanged at the time of posting this.

tw ends here.

while we're here, have some receipts of matt being not exactly pro-palestine.

to show that this is not a one-time thing, here's him following a zionist on this platform. funnily enough, from math that i could be wrong about..

the right screenshot says transmascpetewentz reblogged with the pro-isreal comment eleven days after its original date, feburary 12th, which means feburary 23rd. which happens to be the same day photomatt followed petewentz. i am not saying matt followed petewentz because of this post, i just noticed a coincidence.

i encourage you to do your own research, ask trans women and people of color on this site, and come to your own conclusions, anon. i hope this could help point you in a helpful direction.

[merp-blerp]

Kaylor, Arial, and Belle: A Strange Deep Dive... Thing 🌼🐚🥀🌈

So Mr. Christian Siriano had mildly rocked my world by posting the infamous rainbow dress again, plus a new rainbow dress. However, him posting the rainbow dress with yellow/gold dresses, plus the purple top on the most recent rainbow dress, has me and others pondering, so here's my two cents. Come clown with me if you'd like.

This post inspired this.

Naturally, Siriano posted this dress for a mystery person to wear for NYC Pride 2019, that mystery person theorized to be Taylor originally before the master heist potentially ruined that and Billy Porter wore it instead:

Fast forward to 2024, where Siriano posts this infamous dress once again, first on being on 6/3/24, the second time with a new rainbow dress on 6/28/24, once again imploring others to guess who the dress is for:

It's worth noting that there are other rainbow dresses by Siriano (and at least one more time he posted the original rainbow dress pro-2019, but that wasn't significant here), but they don't seem to have as strong of a connection to Taylor outside of being yet more rainbow dresses:

On 6/30, Siriano posted this photo with a male model (Kyle?) wearing (half, technically) of the 6/28 dress. In the same post, he writes "Oh and everyone don't worry it was not for Taylor but we love her!!" It recognizes that every gaylor associates his rainbow dresses with Taylor and the story of "Diva who we made this for can't come to pride anymore", which lines up with the NYC Pride coming out theory. This is not the first or biggest time he's acknowledged the theory, but it is always very affirming for Siriano to be so open on it:

I personally wasn't expecting Taylor to actually wear the 6/28 dress at any point (I mean, I clowned just in case so it could potentially be manifested, but I wasn't getting my hopes up). Still, the allusions of her associations with Siriano's dresses are present in the new dress posts and interesting to think about, especially when Siriano himself plays into them when he really doesn't have to.

So I just wanted to piece together this idea of Taylor + Karlie = Arial + Belle symbolism from my perspective as a fairytale and Disney nerd.

Theorizing time!

Part 1: Belle = Karlie Kloss 🥀

With this makeshift theory, I'd like to start with the most interesting side first, which might not seem as obvious. I think Karlie might represent Belle in Taylor's music and that's at least a part of why the rainbow dress(es) is pictured with yellow/gold dresses, as that's often Belle's main color outside of blue. As to why:

Belle's dress being gold (in the film itself) or yellow (in merchandising) could easily parallel Taylor's lyrics about associating her lover with gold and the sun, like "Gold Rush", "Daylight", etc. It also fits Tay saying Kar was the sunshine emoji in their Vogue Best Friend video.

Belle as a character was allegedly inspired by Katharine Hepburn's portrayal of Jo March in Little Women (1933). Katharine Hepburn was a queer woman and Jo herself has been interpreted as a queer character.

Belle could arguably be a "static character", as in one who doesn't change throughout the story. That doesn't make Belle badly written, it's just the type I personally think she, at least somewhat fits into. Karlie, for as long as she's been reflected in Tay's music, from what I can tell, has not really changed in her role. She's always been Taylor's beloved muse.

While I sadly can't find a source— if you can, please share—I've heard before that Belle's blue village dress was inspired by Dorothy's dress in The Wizard of Oz (1939). This nicely complements the theory that Karlie is Dorothea in Taylor's song by the same name and that Dorothea is a reference to Dorothy Gale, who herself is a queer-coded character and is associated with the queer slang phrase "Friend of Dorothy". Both Belle and Dorothy yearn for a life that's beyond the one they're living because their peers don't seem to understand them. Many of Taylor's songs have this yearning in them, like "Down Bad" and "I Hate It Here". They aren't the ones in their stories learning the lesson; Dorothy helps her friends learn that they had their gifts all along and Belle's presence in Beast's life inspires him to be better. They're also very accepting of those who are different from society's expectations, Belle with the Beast and Dorothy with her various friends.

Lyricist Howard Ashman wrote the songs for both Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid with Alan Menken. He was also gay and unfortunately died of AIDS in 1991, Beauty and the Beast being the last project he worked on (he technically worked on Aladdin in 1988 before it was released in 1992, but a lot of his songs were cut from the film because the story changed over time, so I believe Beauty and the Beast is typically considered his swan song).

Beauty and the Beast did NOT come out the same year Karlie was born, 1992, but almost did, on November 22, 1991. In the "...Ready For It?" MV, 89 and 91 are on the wall in red and yellow, kind of like Arial and Belle, though the 91 is likely just a beard red herring in the song about bearding. This isn't really a point, I just thought I'd mention it.

Belle is a similar enough name to Betty. Belle means beauty (in Spanish) and the old slang term "Betty" refers to an attractive woman and someone who "...has a smile that can light up a room, and a laugh that could change anyone’s mood..." according to Urban Dictionary. Both names in Hebrew mean God's oath/oath of God.

In the Gaylor world, yellow is often seen as representing closeting/escaping closeting, since the closet room in the Lover house is yellow and Taylor wears a yellow dress after ghosting the prince in the "Bejewled" music video (there could be other reasons too). In the 6/3 photo of the rainbow dress, the mannequin the dress is displayed on and the yellow dresses behind it have a yellow sheer wrap around their heads. For the rainbow dress at least, Billy Porter didn't wear a yellow wrap around his head when wearing the dress, as it's not a part of the outfit, so why is it on the mannequin? My best non-gaylor guess is to help pair it with the yellow dresses better, but why is the dress with these yellow dresses at all rather than with the other rainbow dresses Siriano created or something more similar in concept? It might not be for any Taylor-related reason, but who's to say? It seems as if it's a random choice (and I like how in the og rainbow dress post Siriano's profile picture just happened to be of a yellow dress. Fun happenstance).

Yellow daisies are associated with Kaylor due to their presence in the Big Sur trip and Taylor referencing them in "Don't Blame Me". Daisies are also associated with queerness, being a slang term for gay. Wow, Ms. "Now I'm your daisy", that was bold to say now that I think about it.

Roses play a big role in the general story of Beauty and the Beast, including Disney's. Some of the strongest Kaylor songs mention roses, like "Maroon", "The Lakes", somewhat "The Albatross", etc. The rose is often out of place, like in "The Lakes" where it's growing out of snow, as if it was magical that it happened or seen as not something that should happen, yet it did. Carnations are mistaken as roses in "Maroon", to me representing how Kar and Tay's love isn't always like the norm, so not always a rose, the most common love flower, but carnations still mean love (and have a queer history attached to them). It's "A rose by any other name" and "is a scandal" like in "The Albatross".

Certain songs have been theorized to be from Karlie's perspective towards Taylor, like "TTPD", "Renegade", "Cardigan", and even "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)". All the songs mentioned depict the narrator as trying to help their lover gain strength, knowledge, or simply better habits. In "Cardigan", Betty is steps ahead of James, knowing his moves before he does them because that's how much she loves and knows him, regardless of his actions. Similar to Belle's brainy personality and Karlie's seemingly matching one. Belle never actively tries to "fix" her beast on her own accord in the Disney film despite popular interpretation. She notices that Beast is making an effort to change his ways and supports him through it, as seen in the film's song "Something There". Belle never stomached his bad behavior, running away when Beast pushes it too far and only coming back when he earns it. She never "sees the good in him" before he actually exhibits good. This is similar to Betty (and the narrators of the other songs I mentioned), who lets James come to her when he's ready, rather than stay with him after he did something wrong and is clearly dealing with some baggage in an unhealthy way. I'd say "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" was the only exception, but the song ending with "Whoa, maybe I can't" acknowledges that the idea of "fixing" anyone is often a lie; the narrator knows this and stops (sarcastically/in a tongue-in-cheek way IMO) sassing that they can. But the narrator describing her lover with lines like "The dopamine races through his brain" and "Softly traces hearts on my face" communicates to me that the lover, Taylor, wants to improve on her own accord. Taylor and Karlie are always working together to get to a better place, like Belle and Beast, not one trying to fix the other.

Part 2: Arial = Taylor Swift 🐚

This one should take less explaining I guess. I have less to say about this one.

Disney's The Little Mermaid was released in 1989, the same year Taylor was born. Arial is 16 years old, the same age Taylor was when her first album was released.

Taylor dressed as Arial for New Year's Eve in 2019 (or 2018 if you want to be technical about it...).

Arial has a forbidden romance with a human. Taylor has written about forbidden romances plenty before. Gee, I wonder why—

Of course, the title of Taylor's song "But Daddy I Love Him" is a reference to a line Arial says in the film.

The purple top on the 6/28 rainbow dress is reminiscent of Arial's sea-shell bra.

Mermaids and Sirens are often conflated as the same creatures. Sirens, whether they were half-bird or half-fish people, were seen as evil creatures pulling sailors to their deaths, their voices and songs too alluring to resist. Reminds me vaguely of "Put narcotics into all of my songs // And that's why you're still singin' along" from "WAOLOM". Mermaids have also been seen as victims of men (sailors), promiscuous figures, lucky charms, child-appropriate creatures, and temptresses to men, like Taylor has been seen at times in the public eye.

Many of Taylor's lyrics allude to her seeing herself as or even portraying herself as a monster, beast, or otherworldly creature. "Anti-Hero", "WAOLOM", "...Ready For It", "Don't Blame Me", etc. Mermaids have been seen in many ways over the years, villainous or virtuous. Hans Christian Andersen's original version of the story was subversive at the time for not making the mermaid evil or sexualized. But she's still a half-fish creature, not a natural human, so she could still be considered a "creature/beast" whether she acts beastly or not. Therefore Taylor sees herself as the Beast to Karlie's Beauty.

Andersen's original story ends with the mermaid attempting to jump off the prince's ship after he didn't fall for her back. She expects to turn into sea foam since mermaids have no souls to become angels. This would fulfill her deal with the sea witch. However, the mermaid is saved by these fairy-like creatures called "Daughters of the Air", as they recruit her as one of them so she can do good deeds for 300 years with them and gain her soul without the aid of a man's love. It somewhat reminds me of Taylor pausing the beardings and abandoning men to hang out with her squad. "I picked the petals, he loves me not // Something different bloomed // Writing in my room..." (from "YOYOK").

And Andersen was fairly certainly queer.

As for this line in "Clara Bow": "Beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours // Demanding more..." I think it's mostly a commentary on how painful the demand for women to be beautiful is. But under this lens, it could be slight self-reflection; I wouldn't be surprised if Taylor has personally felt the pressure of trying to stay as beautiful as possible, both in looks and spirits. Inside her is both physical and spiritual beauty, but beauty can be a beast, demanding to stay against all odds despite natural aging or moments of being human and exhibiting more negative "non-beautiful" emotinal traits.

Not really a point, but here is a fun fact: there are ✨13✨ official Disney Princesses currently, starting with Snow White and currently ending at Raya (I don't know if Asha from Wish counts yet or will count). Belle was the next princess directly after Arial in terms of their film's release dates, similar to Karlie and Taylor's birthdates.

[timeforbedwolfstar]

Finding Home - Chapter 5

At once, everything was both strange and familiar. I could clearly remember the feeling of Remus’ hands through my fur, and falling gently into darkness. I remembered pulling the sled. I remembered Mother, and Koda, and Hera, and Zeus, and Geralt and Loki, and Celeste, and Faith. I remembered my life. 

Every part of it. 

When my eyes opened, I saw my mother for the first time. But it wasn’t Mother. This dog was my mother, yes, but she wasn’t Mother. 

This new dog was a light brown color. Old Mother had been jet-black, and she was more assertive in her dominance. With this dog, we knew where we stood. She didn’t prove it over and over like Old Mother did. 

New Mother was smaller than Old Mother, too. She was shorter at the shoulder and stocky where Old Mother had been lean. I mimicked her in color and body shape, which made my tail wag. I was the only brown puppy in the litter — everyone else was jet-black. 

From the moment I was strong enough to stand, I made my way to the edge of the Den. I only managed a few steps before my nose bumped into a new surface. 

It was a cardboard box. I recognized the smell of it from when I lived with Remus. Tired now, I burrowed under a sister to sleep. 

Everything was the same, and yet, it was completely different, as if I had started over. Was that possible? It seemed to me that every time I had life all figured out, it changed. 

A woman would lift us out of the den every day, spending a few minutes brushing off our coats and running her hands over our tiny bodies. I loved her touch, but something about it seemed off. There was no tingle of pleasure like there had been with Remus. 

Was I supposed to return to him? Was that why he never left my mind? 

We were taught new commands like “sit,” “stay,” “lay down,” and “come.” When New Mother was beginning to stand while nursing, I remembered the time when Old Mother was slowly being taken away from us. 

It seemed like a natural thing, what I did then. 

We were outside in the backyard for playtime. I was wrestling with a brother when I saw that the back gate was open. While my siblings made a mad rush for New Mother, who had just been let outside, I trotted out the gate and found myself in an unknown street. 

I looked back behind me, once. New Mother was watching me leave, and with a slight dip of her head she told me this was how it had to be. 

A dog eventually separated from his mother. 

I turned away from her and trotted on. The air around me had a smell of smoke and cinder and ash, but also falling snow and rain. The smell of “magic,” as Remus had called it. 

I began to doubt whether I’d done the right thing in leaving my family. It felt like I had, because I had to find Remus. But I felt the seeds of doubt in leaving behind everything I’d ever known. 

I slowed, looking back behind me. A small part of me wanted to return, but I knew that I’d never discover the reason I’d been born again if I did. I pressed on, a new spring in my step. 

There was a flash of black on the corner of my vision. I paused, looking around. 

A huge black dog stepped out of the shadows, but for all his might, I sensed something familiar under his tough exterior. 

He wagged and I wagged back. He turned and trotted away, and I hurried to follow. 

He seemed annoyed that I was following him, and tried to shake me off. I barked and he stopped, turned back, and let out a fierce growl. 

I stumbled and stopped. He thrashed his tail and turned away, and I followed him again. 

He seemed to give up on me, choosing to ignore me as he led me away from the village that smelled of magic. I followed him toward a small alcove at the base of a mountain, where a small fire was burning. We were out of sight of the village, and the fire was burning low. 

The dog turned into a man, and the magic smelled like water drenched in a dog’s fur. He squatted by the alcove entrance, and gestured to me. “Come on,” he said, and I recognized the command “come” and obeyed it. I lay down next to him, wagging my tail. 

“You’re just a regular dog, ain’t ya?” he said, his voice hoarse and croaking. “Just a regular dog. A lab, ain’t ya? Chocolate lab. I’ll call you Chocolate. An old friend o’ mine had a heart made of chocolate, much as he wanted to say otherwise. Remus Lupin.” 

My tail wagged at the name “Remus.” 

“Yeah, lil’ Chocolate,” the man said, running a hand down my back. “I sure hope Remus got the dogs handled. Wonder if he kept ‘em. Old Thor . . . he’ll be gone by now, surely? After twelve years . . . And he was old when I left. . . .” He shook his head and offered me his hand. I pawed it, wagging. “I’m Sirius, young pup. Sirius Black. And I’m on a mission.” He smiled, then put two fingers to his forehead and removed them in what I would later learn was a salute. “Marauder’s honor.” 

[mimilind]

A Magical Classmate - Part 8

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 3500

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

Draco and you start dating for real. When he meets an old friend, part of his burdens may be lifted from his shoulders.

8. A Wizard and a Muggle

After Draco made up his mind, it was like turning a switch. He changed from morose to cheerful, and after many more sweet kisses he asked you to follow him home. 

Unlike the last time you were in his apartment, now there was no need for him to hide anything from you. He showed you how he used spells for everything from cooking to cleaning his teeth, and some of his wizard equipment too. He had a clock with strange numbers and symbols, and several sets of black robes which you recognized from the Halloween party.

“No wonder you didn’t know how to use electrical stuff when there are so many spells. And how sly to dress like your real self for Halloween!”

He smirked. “I thought it was a brilliant idea.”

Next he pulled out a photo album where each image moved. Most of them pictured a chubby toddler smiling toothlessly into the camera.

“You were such a cute baby.”

“Really? I think I was ugly. Look, I had no hair at all.” He traced an image with his finger, where baby-Draco was riding a broomstick across a neat lawn. “Flying is what I miss most from my old world; there is this sport we have, where we use broomsticks and different balls and I was rather good at it.” He absent-mindedly rubbed the callouses in his palm. Perhaps he had gotten them from gripping the broom handle.

In the next picture a handsome man with long, platinum hair was posing in a chair, his lips curled in a contemptuous smile. The likeness with Draco was striking, apart from the arrogant expression. It could only be his deceased father. 

Draco frowned and turned the page.

Another photo showed a beautiful woman at a concert piano, her fingers dancing soundlessly over the keys. 

Draco’s frown disappeared and instead he looked sad. “That’s my mum. She taught me how to play.” He nodded at his own piano.

“Do you miss her?”

“Sometimes.” He shut the album closed and put it back. “Want to see my potions? I made most of them myself.”

He had rows of bottles with labels in his neat handwriting. You examined one marked ‘dreamless sleep’. “I can see now why you like chemistry.” 

“The subject has many similarities, yes.” He took the bottle from you and put it back. “I don’t think I will need this tonight.” He gave you a small kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you came. I always hated sleeping alone.”

“Same.”

His words reminded you of how late it had become. With everything that had happened you weren’t sleepy at all.

“Shall I put out an extra mattress or will we share my bed?” Then he quickly added: “I meant for sleeping, not…” His voice trailed off and his cheeks colored rather cutely.

“We can share.” You were secretly relieved he had no other expectations; you didn’t think it a good idea to rush it and sleep with a guy on the first real date.

Preparing for the night together with Draco was very different this time. Now you were sober, and had all the things he told you still fresh in your mind. When he undressed and exposed his tattoo you now knew the meaning of it, and though the sight of him in a tank top still gave you butterflies, it also reminded you of his dark past.

It felt a bit awkward and embarrassing to take off your pants and socks in front of him, but that disappeared when you slid under the comforter and was met by Draco’s warmth and now familiar scent. You edged close and pressed your nose against the crook of his neck, and he put his arm around you, softly stroking your back over your t-shirt.

Despite the late hour, neither of you were tired. Protected by darkness you talked, sharing more about yourselves; childhood memories; hopes and fears; personal things you had never told anyone before. 

When you could think of nothing more to say, you started kissing again. Lengthy, intimate kisses, so gentle and soft your heart swelled with fondness. 

After a while the kisses changed, becoming more intense. Draco raised himself on his elbow, leaning over you to deepen the kiss, slipping a hand under your t-shirt to caress your bare skin. 

You responded with the same eagerness, mimicking his movements. When you explored his broad shoulders and hard, flat chest, and felt his heated skin against your fingertips, new emotions stirred in you.

Draco drew back first. “Maybe we should sleep,” he mumbled breathlessly. “It’s already past sunrise.”

You willed your heart to slow its pace, glancing at the windows where a faint light spilled in. Seagulls squeaked outside, a common sound around dawn in this city. You estimated it was three or four in the morning. 

“Sure. But this time of year it’s always past sunrise.” You gave him a last, sweet kiss. “Good morning then, and sleep well!”

“Good morning,” he replied with laughter in his voice, looking adorable with mussed hair and chapped lips from all the kissing. 

Not long afterwards you fell asleep in his arms with a smile lingering on your face.

You were surprised with how easy it was to get used to dating Draco. How his magic became part of your everyday life in the same way as his company grew familiar and comfortable. It soon felt completely natural to let him warm and dry you with charms after a cold swim, or eat a meal he used spells to cook. When you had a headache you swallowed a potion rather than medicine, and if you wanted to get somewhere it was very practical to ask Draco to apparate you instead of taking the bus, even with the nausea you got from the teleportation.

Draco adapted to you in a similar way. Under your influence, he learned to dress like a muggle and how to use all the electrical appliances in a normal home. He bought a TV, a mobile phone and a Playstation, and no longer had to be bored when alone in his home. Not that he was alone much; the two of you alternated between staying at your apartment and his, and you rarely spent a night on your own.

This day was warm and sunny; Sweden was showing its best side. You were at a beach not far from the city with Catrine, Andreas, Martin, and Martin’s boyfriend.

Draco lay stretched out on his back on a patch of grass between the bare, smooth cliffs, closing his eyes against the sun. He wore only swimming trunks and had used a spell to hide the Dark Mark; it was apparently a bit of a hassle to keep up which was why he normally preferred long sleeves.

You took the opportunity to admire his body, rare as it was to see him shirtless outdoors. You found him especially attractive now, in an adorably scruffy way; his hair disarrayed and damp from bathing and his jaw covered in stubble, and a healthy tan contrasting with a scatter of fair hairs on his chest and stomach that continued in a thin line down to his trunks. The sunshine painted his ripped torso golden and the mesmerizing sight gave you flutters. 

Suddenly you wished you were alone at the beach.

He opened his eyes. “I’ve been counting back. We’ve dated for two months today.”

Catrine made two thumbs up. “Yay! This calls for a party.”

“Why not? You’re all welcome to my place tonight, then.”

It became a wild, but fun party. The morning after you were tidying away empty bottles and scores of burst, heart-shaped balloons (a gift from Martin), feeling perfectly well thanks to a dose of one of Draco’s amazing potions, when he came out of his lab looking slightly concerned. “This was the last batch; from now on we’ll have to resort to muggle medicine.”

“Can’t you buy more?”

“No, I can only get the ingredients from a wizard apothecary and if I show up in the magical community my cover will be blown.” He sighed. “I wish I had polyjuice potion; then I could have gone there looking like someone else. As of now, I’ll just have to make do without potions.”

You didn’t like the sound of that at all; you had gotten too used to his potions to give them up. 

You pondered over it for a few moments. “What if you use that concealing spell? You could go to the apothecary and take it off long enough to buy what you need.”

“Hmm. I doubt any shop owners in this country know me by sight… it might just work.” A pleased smile broke out on his lips. “I could buy more glassware as well, and a new cauldron.”

“Can I come too? I’d love to see a part of your world.”

He firmly shook his head. “No. Too risky.”

By now, however, you had become an expert persuader, and Draco clearly had a weak spot when it came to obliging you. It didn’t take long for him to budge.

“Alright then,” he acceded in mock exasperation. “You’re too curious for your own good.”

Draco chose an early Saturday morning for your visit since he figured the place would be basically empty at that hour. He apparated you to the entrance, which was located downtown in an underground garage. When you arrived, fighting your usual nausea from such transportation, a sickening smell of stale urine worsened your condition.

“I had imagined it to be a bit more stylish,” you said, covering your nose.

“Wait to judge until you see what’s on the other side.” He went over to one of the walls and stood in front of a spot that appeared no different from the rest of the whitish-gray surface. Using his wand, he tapped a pattern.

“There; it’s open.” He took your hand. “You need to trust me for the next part.”

“Always.”

“Then close your eyes.”

You closed them only partly; you didn’t want to miss what would happen, but when he commenced to lead you through the wall they squeezed shut by their own volition at the last moment.

You opened them again at the other side – widely. “Oh my God,” you breathed.

Entering the Swedish wizard shopping area felt like being transported back in time at least a century. The buildings were quaintly mismatched, with pillars, turrets, and decorative trim, and the street was paved with uneven cobblestones. 

“Welcome to Trollstavenyn. Pretty neat, eh?”

Under the disillusionment charm, and a silencing spell to hide your voices, Draco could show you around, explaining what was in the shops, and you gaped at everything with excited awe.

“Amazing. I wish we could go into them all and look more closely.” You pressed your nose against a window with an assortment of animals inside. 

“We’d better not.” He took your hand again. “Let’s shop for potion ingredients now. I’ll need to remove the muffliato charm so remember to keep very quiet.”

The apothecary was even more intriguing than the other shops you had passed. On the crowded shelves you saw jars and bottles of everything imaginable, from powdered spiderweb to unicorn lashes soaked in rum. 

Draco pointed his staff to himself, turning visible again, and walked up to the counter where an elderly witch was labeling glass bottles. “God morgon,” he greeted in Swedish. “I need some ingredients.” He handed her a list. 

He was waiting as she packed his purchases into a bag when the doorbell rang and a beautiful witch entered. Unruly curls cascaded down her back almost to her waist.

“Draco?”

You went cold. Oh no! This was exactly what he had feared. To be recognized. Would he have to move away now? You couldn’t stand the thought of losing him!

On hearing the witch’s voice, Draco’s frame grew rigid, his features undergoing a strange transformation from neutral to haughty. 

He slowly turned around with a contemptuous sneer on his lips. “Why, if it isn’t Granger,” he drawled.

She closed the distance in two long steps, looking genuinely delighted. “I can’t believe I found you of all people, here, in this small town! Where have you been these years? How have you been? You just disappeared. Everyone wonders what happened to you. And your mum… I used to work with her and even she doesn’t know where you are.”

His sneer immediately disappeared. “Mum… works?”

“Yes, can you believe it? But she’s changed. A lot.”

“Is she, uh… well?” His voice was neutral but his face betrayed his coiled tension.

“She’s worried about you. And misses you, of course.”

“Oh.”

The look on Draco’s face wrought your heart. You slipped your hand in his, squeezing it. 

The witch narrowed her eyes. “Is someone there?” She looked vaguely in your direction and you held your breath, keeping as still as you could.

Draco frowned. “I have to go.”

“Wait… It’s been so long. Can we talk over a butterbeer or something? I want to put your mum at ease. Please.”

You squeezed his hand again, looking at him encouragingly. His cover was already blown; he might as well talk to her and find out more about his mother. You knew he missed her too and regretted he had had to leave. Whenever the topic of parents came up, he would grow rigid with repressed emotions.

“Alright then,” he muttered.

As the witch led the way to a nearby inn, you were dying to ask Draco about her. Was she one of the kids he had mentioned who would pretend to be his friend because they envied him? Or was she one of those he had bullied? But if so, she wouldn’t have looked so glad to see him…

The inn was small and cozy, with wood paneling and a merry fire burning in the fireplace despite the warmth of summer. Draco and the witch received their drinks, and you eyed them curiously. They smelled sweet, like toffee. Maybe you could try one too after the witch had left. 

The witch sipped her butterbeer. “I still can’t believe I chanced to meet you. I’m only here for a brief visit to learn about the Swedish Short-Snout dragon’s healing properties. For my research.”

“You study healing, then?”

“Yes, and soon finished, too. This research is for my final thesis.” She continued talking, first about her studies, then mentioning several names, relating what they did now and who dated whom – small talk, that you had a hunch was mostly meant to make Draco at ease. 

When she was done, a silence ensued. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to take another sip but the bottle was empty. 

“Draco…” She leaned across the table, becoming serious. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, but you disappeared so soon after the war there was never an opportunity.”

He blinked. “Thank me?”

“For not turning us over to… him. That time in your manor. We were caught, and I know you recognized us, but you said you weren't sure who we were. You saved our lives.”

“Oh.” He shifted his stance again. “Well, then we’re even, I guess… You guys saved my life in the war too.”

“Have you been in Sweden all the time since it ended?”

He shook his head. “I went to South Africa first, to a sanctuary for magical creatures. I, uh… volunteered, actually. After Dad died, I just wanted to get away from everything. Get a fresh start.” He looked at his empty bottle, twirling it in his hands. “It didn’t work too well, as it were; as soon as people heard I was British I’d get questions about the war. All the questions I didn’t want to answer… Then I figured with my looks I might pass as a Swede and moved here instead. Unfortunately the language was complicated as hell so I thought ‘screw it, I can’t pretend to be from here’, and joined a muggle university as an exchange student.”

“A muggle university? You live among muggles?” The witch’s eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under her curly bangs.

“I know; ironic, isn’t it? I thought it would be the last place anyone would look… But, getting to know some muggles, I found that… It became more than just a hiding place.” He glanced at you. “I’ve made friends here.”

”There is someone there! I knew it.” Her piercing eyes brushed over you again. ”You can show yourself; I don’t bite.”

Draco and you exchanged gazes and you nodded your head. He could reveal you; the room was empty and your table wasn’t visible to the innkeeper. And you didn’t think this woman was a threat. 

He touched you with his staff.

The witch gaped at you. “You brought a muggle with you? You really have changed, Draco… I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” She stretched out her hand. “I’m Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you.”

You recognized the name; she was one of the three who had been Draco’s chief adversaries at school. He had recounted to you many of his past squabbles with the trio, sometimes with amusement when he described the more harmless pranks he had put them through, other times with obvious guilt over his behavior. 

That considered, you were surprised Hermione acted so friendly. You didn’t think the warmth was feigned.

“I suppose I have changed, yes,” he said. “It’s been liberating to be an unknown nobody. And to do some good.”

Hermione smiled. “You’re so much like your mum. She’s a volunteer at St Mungos Hospital and works with patients who were injured in the war. She feels guilty for being part of the side who did that to them.”

He looked thoughtful at that.

“Can I tell her about you? I don’t want to expose you if you don’t want to.”

Again you were baffled over the kindness and consideration of this woman. If she kept his secret Draco wouldn’t have to leave you after all. Relief filled you.

Draco seemed to have similar thoughts. He met Hermione’s eyes for the first time, replying with gratitude in his voice. “You can tell her I’m well and that I’m happy, but please don’t give away that you know where I live… you can say we met at Gringotts or something, and I didn’t give you the details.”

“Alright, I will.” She rose. “Can I send you an owl the next time I’m in the vicinity? I’d love to keep in touch. If it’s alright with you, of course.”

“Sure.” He suddenly blushed, dropping his gaze again. “Hermione… For what it’s worth. I’m sorry for everything… I was a jerk. I don’t deserve your kindness, really.”

”Think no more of it. And I’m sorry too; my friends and I could be a bit harsh at times. Everything was either black or white when we were kids. But we all grew up, thankfully.”

“Surprisingly, we did.” he smiled wryly. “If you see Potter, tell him I still think he’s a twat but that I’m sorry.”

She grinned. “I will. But you should tell him yourself or he won’t believe me.”

When she had gone, Draco renewed the charm that hid you, and bought another couple of drinks, handing one to you. It tasted like it smelled, sweet and syrupy.

“Well, that was awkward,” he said.

“She seems nice. And you did well; apologizing like that was brave. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m honestly a bit proud too.”

“Will you go see your mother?”

He looked thoughtful. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he put his arms around you.

“I support whatever you decide.” 

Draco was silent and brooding the rest of that day. In the evening when you lay in his bed, he kissed you with unusual tenderness. Like the first time. 

“I’m so grateful for this. For you, for my friends… I’m a lucky bastard.”

“You deserve it.”

“I disagree.”

“No, you really do. You saw what kind of person you were and left him behind together with the rest of your old life. You became a new, better you. After giving so much up, you deserve everything good coming your way. You deserve friends. You deserve forgiveness.” You looked deep into his eyes. “You deserve love.”

He replied with a long kiss, overflowing with feelings.

You responded, and then gently pushed him onto his back. You kissed a trail down his neck, and each of his many tiny scars and nicks from hexes thrown on him in the war, and then the faded Dark Mark. Showing him how none of his past mattered. 

“I love you,” he mumbled thickly.

Your chest filled with warmth at hearing those words for the first time. “I love you too.”

When you started to doze off in his arms a long while later, you felt happier than you thought possible. Draco loved you. Even if he decided to return to his own world you were certain he would take you with him now. 

You also felt hope for him, for a happier future. Hermione’s visit had shown him he wasn’t as hated as he had thought. He would get closure eventually. A chance to make everything right again. 

He deserved that.

A/N:

I'm leaving it open whether Draco returns to live in the wizarding world or stays in the muggle one. But you, Reader, will be at his side, no matter what. :)

Thanks for reading, and don't hesitate to comment! I always love to hear from you and what you think about the story.

Note: The wizard town Trollstavenyn is a pun, “trollstaven” = the magic wand, and “Avenyn” is a famous Gothenburg street. :) My husband made up the name for me, so I assume it’s peak dad humor. XD

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[nakachuchu]

CHAPTER FIVE: THE BIRTH OF INUMAKI TOGE

Salvation Series

SYNOPSIS: Inumaki Toge’s birth changed everything.

WORDS: 1k

WRITTEN: 03/28/2023

NOTE: Comment to be added to the taglist.

It was cold where you were. It felt like you were at the bottom of the ocean, but you were not wet. Your body was dry, but the tingling sensation of frostbite was on the tip of your fingers. It was a strange feeling, but it wasn't unpleasant. It was a reminder that you were alive — you had a purpose.

It was dark where you were and it was completely black. You were the exception. You were the only thing in this black world with color.

You began walking with no destination in mind. You were not sure if there was an edge or a wall to this world. You were not sure if there was anything beyond the cold, dark void that was now your home.

You remembered how you got here. Your family had betrayed you, but you supposed you betrayed them first.

Perhaps that was all the Inumaki Clan would be; empty hearts and faces looking to get ahead with no regard for their blood. They would be nothing more than a pack of wolves, only using each other for their gain.

But you were one of them. You lavished so much in the glory of being a god to the humans that you pushed aside all the sadness and anger of being an unwanted child.

All those years of being treated as nothing were forced out of your mind when your parents began "loving" you.

You knew they were using you, but it did not matter. All that mattered was that you were there for them — you were their salvation — you were their god.

They wanted a lavish life with all the riches and power they could possibly obtain from fine silk to unblemished fruits to sparkling jewelry to control of an entire village.

Once, you were their biggest stain. Then, you became their possession and their finest treasure.

Despite everything, you were certain you would have been comfortable living like that if they had passed down the role of being the Head of the clan to you.

They could have survived and continued living lavishly, but your father and the men within couldn't fathom the mere thought of a woman running it. It was a man's world and they wanted a man to lead them. So, they chose your younger brother instead.

When your brother was young, your mother would call him her precious lamb. His little face would light up whenever she did so. Yet as he grew older, you saw him become more and more like your father.

The boy you adored turned into a man you could not recognize. He had turned into the very man you despised.

However, your brother still differed from your father. While he was a stumbling womanizer, your father was a ruthless politician.

Unlike your father, your brother didn't have a backbone. It was why he was so easy to control. He always listened to your father mindlessly like another servant in your household.

It was pathetic.

Because of your powerful ability, you were almost free to do whatever you wanted. You were not chained to your father. He was the one that needed you.

But in some sort of pathetic, ironic way, you wanted him and your mother. You wanted their love and support. You wanted to be called their precious lamb as well.

You knew that was unlikely unless you commanded them to do so. If you had done that, what kind of daughter would you have been? You knew their love for you would not be true, and that was a love you did not want.

Love was something you experienced only once before with a boy who turned into a man. You had sacrificed for him and watched the world burn down because of him and your support for him.

But that support stemmed from the love you had for the monster you created. It had pained you to walk away from him and return to a family that did not love you the way he loved you.

Upon walking for what felt like hours, you concluded that there was never an end to the dark world.

But what you found instead was of great importance. You found a large body of water on top of the world you were imprisoned.

After watching for a few minutes, you learned you could watch certain members of your clan in the body of water.

You learned you had been asleep for many years now. The family you knew from your time was long gone.

You were not able to choose who or what, and the images would turn black whenever they slept.

In some twisted way, you had become a guardian of the Inumaki Clan after being sentenced to the confines of your own mind by them.

The first time you saw your own body in the eyes of someone else was an odd experience. You learned they continued to pray to you for protection and waited for the day you would wake.

Even in a death-like state, you were revered as a god by your own blood. This was the way things should have been from the start. Your father should have known better than to appoint your brother as the Head.

The first men of the Inumaki Clan were a disgrace and you would make that known the day you would wake. Although members of the clan knew somewhat of your importance, men continued to be appointed as the Heads with no regard for the women.

A millennium passed and it continued. The modern world was more forgiving and you were glad to see that.

The day Inumaki Toge was born was the day your life changed for the better. A Cursed Speech user who followed the rules of onigiri ingredients was something you had never witnessed before.

He brought such joy to your life. He was completely himself with no care in the world, and you were able to truly see the color of his heart when he joined Jujutsu Tech and befriended Panda and Zen’in Maki.

His heart was yellow and pink, full of innocence and a love for his friends.

NEXT CHAPTER: THE GOD

TAGLIST: @phoenix666stuff @sup-zfam @woozzz

[hecatemoon87]

This story will eventually have smut. Minors DNI.

Chapter 4

Summer had come to an end in Chicago. And now the crisp air of autumn started to change the leaves from emerald green to brilliant shades of amber.

Johnny had helped Amelia move into her new apartment almost four weeks ago. They stayed in touch as friends, which was fine with Johnny. He could see she was coping with some pretty traumatic things and decided to focus on his biker club.

He even started having a little fling with one of the biker girls, though to him, it wasn't serious.

Amelia hadn't stopped by Sal's for some time. He wondered if she decided to keep her distance from the activity that caused her mother to physically abuse her.

Either way, he wanted to keep moving on with his life, but hoped Amelia would be okay.

However, one late afternoon, Amelia was suddenly there. Johnny was seated at his usual table, his biker girl sitting on his leg as he played cards. At first, he didn't look over, but once he glanced over and recognized it was her, his mouth went dry.

She was holding two boxes that looked like they were for taxes, and she was heading to the bar's back office. She made eye contact with Johnny and managed to give him a little wave and a smile before disappearing in the back.

Johnny quickly, but gently pushed the biker girl off his leg and stood up. Benny almost fell to the floor laughing, his other friends grinned like a bunch of jackels.

"Hey, what's the big deal?" The petite biker girl said, folding her arms and glaring at Johnny.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he said, adjusting his jacket and glancing in the mirror that shelved the hard liquor behind the bar. He made sure his hair was neat and sat back down at the table, sitting in a way that made the biker girl understand she was no longer welcome to sit on his lap.

After about thirty minutes or so, Amelia came back around the bar. Johnny waved her down and walked her out.

"I haven't seen you in a while. How you doing?" Johnny asked.

"Been busy with work, I got a promotion, so a lot more responsibilities. And also helping Uncle Sal prepare his taxes for next year."

"Congratulations. I'm glad you're doing well," Johnny said earnestly.

"So, um, who was that woman?" She asked, off handedly.

"Who?" Johnny said, not recalling the biker chick.

"The woman that was sitting on your lap?" Amelia said, laughing softly. She moved a lock of hair behind her ear, making Johnny weak in the knees.

"Julie, she's just a friend," he said, then smiled, "Are you jealous?"

"Huh?" Amelia's eyes got wide, and her cheeks grew slightly pink. "Jealous? Oh, I...you know...I didn't..." she said, stammering over her words.

"Amelia, I'd really like to take you on that second date," Johnny said. He knew he needed to take charge of the situation because she would never outright tell him she was interested.

She nibbled on her bottom lip, her honey colored eyes looking deep into his before she quickly looked back down again.

"Yeah, John. I think I'm ready. That'd be great," she said shyly.

"You sure? I'm not rushing you into something you don't want?"

"Yes, John. I'm not that fragile, but thank you for asking," she said.

"I know, I know, just making sure we're on the same page," he said, smiling. "I'll call you, let you know when and where."

"Maybe...I choose this time. I mean...I'd like to choose where we go," she said.

"Yeah, wherever you want to go, Princess," he said.

"Okay. There's an Opera in the city, La Traviata, by Giuseppe Verdi," she said, speaking the Italian flawlessly.

"An Opera?" Johnny asked, not entirely sure what it was. He knew it was like a play and strange singing, but never in his life had he attended one. "Sure, alright"

"Great! I'll get the tickets and call you," she said happily.

Johnny returned to the card table, and Cal delt him into their new card game. "So, you finally get her on the hook again?" He asked.

"Yeah, but I let her choose the place. Now I need to find a suit," Johnny said.

"What? You going to a wedding or something?" Another biker asked.

"Opera," Johhny said.

There was a pause at the table, then an eruption of laughter. Johnny let them have their fun. Hell, he'd laugh, too. But this was Amelia. There was just something about her that pulled him in. And if she wanted to go to the Opera, then that's exactly what they'd do.

[aladaylessecondblog]

the life you knew before (good tav/gortash pt. 4)

Previous chapter here

Banter, and sex (obviously). Enjoy :)

---------------------------------------

Tav stood, mind off like a shot. Cazador she had seen several times in the eight months she had been Duchess Gortash, and somehow it had entirely slipped her mind to talk to him about...the situation.

How, how could I forget about CAZADOR?

The same way you forgot about ME, my dear, returned Astarion's voice in her head.

"Lord Szarr," Tav gave a slight curtsy, "A pleasure to see you. I almost didn't recognize you, so rarely do I see you outside your palace."

"And so rarely do any see you outside the city."

"True enough," she replied, "I've had so much to do...but I have had rather a...taxing day. I found time in nature and with...old friends...a better prospect than remaining behind stone walls."

Cazador did not respond to that, but took a step forward and looked down on the gravestone.

"Were you--"

"Who is this Halsin?" he interrupted and gestured at the carving atop the headstone. "Don't tell me Astarion went and wed himself to a bear."

"A druid...he did love to stay in his wildshape much of the time. Were you...familiar with Astarion?"

She hated to pretend it, but she also knew it was a good idea to act as though she did not know what he was. For now.

"Perhaps we might call him a bastard son, for certainly he acted like one. Running off like a slave, cavorting with--animals..."

Is he daring me to say something?

Cazador then turned those eyes on her. "And you say you loved him."

"I--did, yes. Before I met the Archduke, of course." She looked at the gravestone and gave a soft smile. "It was strange how long it took to earn his trust. He was running from something, I think."

"He always was a fearful sort. I assume you were the one to bury him? The one to make this gravestone?"

Tav took a deep breath before she answered. "I was, yes."

"Quite frankly, it surprises me that you would bother."

His voice was so severe; it made her think she'd done something wrong. She resented the feeling, but tried to keep her tone polite.

"Every man deserves a proper grave," she replied evenly. "I did not know him long, but...for that time, he was..."

It had started with wanting him, as she was sure he had intended. Then it had become oh-so-much more, and now...now, she didn't know.

She bowed her head just slightly.

"One might think you are unhappy in your marriage, if you pine so over a dead man," Cazador said then. "I cannot think the Archduke would approve."

"He knows of this...former romance. And he knows--" Tav gulped just slightly before going on, "--he knows, really, that 'tis he who holds my heart now. It is just that every so often...I think of the past, and what might have been."

"A life in the trees amongst the beasts is not fit to be lived." The sternness had a slight edge in it now, "You are lucky to have the Archduke to show you that there is more to life than speaking to those who have nothing to say worth hearing."

"It would have been good enough for me. My poor pale elf could have used a few colorful flowers in his hair."

With that she turned and began to walk away.

(The spawn who had been holding the umbrella over her head seemed to tense; she actually saw his eyes widening into fear when she looked.)

"I wasn't done speaking to you," Cazador said.

"I was done listening." It was out before she could stop it.

"One might think badly of a lady who makes so free with those above her."

"The only man above me is the Archduke, Lord Szarr. Unless you have plans to ascend to a crown."

She turned back briefly.

"One never knows what might happen," Cazador said in a darker tone, "I am surprised, you know, that you have so sharp a tongue. I expected nothing like this from so subservient a woman."

"I am such to my husband and no one else."

It was the last thing she said to him as she walked away. There was a strange thrill and yet a fear with it when she heard Cazador seething.

-----------------------------------

"Someone's been acting up today."

Tav had been standing by the window, staring out at the ships passing on the water for nearly an hour when she felt Gortash's hands on her hips.

"Your lady is only feverish," she said quietly, "An illness she caught tending to the needs of the people..."

"Of course she will require several days of rest to recover. After all, her loyalty is well known...and anything that could make her say such terrible things in earshot of others, well..."

It was easy, so easy, to relax into his touch. To gently cover the hands that slid forward and around the bump of her belly and feel...well, she didn't know what she was feeling. But she couldn't think that it was wrong anymore.

And even that fact was not scary any longer.

"When are you going to grow angry?" Tav asked after a long silence. "Throw something, perhaps...or have me locked away for making you look foolish?"

"Is that what you think of me?" Gortash's voice was softer than she had yet heard it. "I wasn't lying when I told you that you had nothing to fear from me."

Please... She gulped softly and begged silently, as she had been begging for months now. Stop being like this. Like someone I could...

To distract herself Tav looked out the window. The sun was setting in brilliant reds and golds, with a single dark ship passing on the horizon.

"You were a decision I made in haste, and I presume the same could be said from your position. But must you keep yourself in this state of agony? I'm sure you don't wish to be there." There was the lightest of grips at her belly. "And it's certainly not good for the child."

Deep breath.

She thought of Astarion, the first time he was comfortable participating in the lovemaking with Halsin. The first time she had woken up with the two of them. The last smiles she'd seen from either of them.

Then...

Then those thoughts turned to Gortash. The dances she had with him at the wedding, the smiles he gave at balls later on...the way he went about showing his interest. He was for every appearance a perfect gentleman...except in the bedroom, where he did things that made her weak in the knees. Where he left her wanting only to push her to greater heights of desire.

And where of late she slept beside him more often than not.

Tav opened her eyes and saw that the ship on the horizon was gone.

"You have not been what I expected," Tav replied, "Everything since the tadpole has been an endless series of unpleasant surprises. I could scarcely lay down my head without being woken by some problem, some fight...and then...then I lost everything."

Where was this coming from? Why was she saying all this this? She hardly knew. Her emotions were a horrible typhoon centered around the calm that he'd created. She had now been his wife longer than she had ever been with Astarion or Halsin...and there was a space shaped like him forming in her mind.

"I'm afraid to be at rest." she added "Because when all is quiet..."

She waited--waited for some mocking, some cutting remark she was sure was coming. But none did.

Deep breath.

"The nastiness comes out. My poor bride, dealing with so much...and alone. You really needn't do that. After all, how well can you help me handle this city if you are so burdened?"

"I didn't know whether I could trust you then...and now...and now..."

"We should lay down," Gortash said, "Clearly, you're in need of rest."

Tav relaxed and allowed herself to be lead to her bed, and was glad when he joined her. Even more so when she realized he was clad as he had been that first night, with one difference--this time, he wasn't wearing the gauntlet. Just that pair of black trousers...

"Something set this off," he said gently in her ear. "I want to know what set it off."

"I..." she took a deep breath as Gortash reached a hand up to stroke at her face. "I visited the...the grave, and...there's something--someone you should know about. I was...afraid to mention it because he's..."

"Did he harm you?"

"No, but...he could be dangerous to you at some point soon. I forgot all about him with the...the uh...what lead to my marrying you."

She was glad. So very, very glad, that he was really listening to her right now.

"Cazador." Tav said, "He was...Astarion's...sire. A vampire...and one of the most abusive pieces of shit I've ever heard of, if the way Astarion acted was any indication. I had been planning to deal with him--"

"Unsurprising," Gortash replied, "The man was always odd and reclusive, and while I had my suspicions..."

"And I may have upset him by not...paying him what he saw as his due. He's planning some sort of ritual..."

Here she explained what she knew of Cazador and his plans for ascension, and while Gortash quickly began to look more severe, at least he didn't vent any of that potential anger on her.

"I must inform the guards about that. Noble or not, I'll not have him steal what I've worked so hard for." He smirked slightly and pressed a brief kiss to her lips. "And I'll not have YOU risking either your life or my heir's by going after him."

"I've helped imprison Mizora--the former patron of the Grand Duke. I've assisted in the killing of a cambion..."

"Really, now."

"Raphael never stood a chance. Foolish man...and very stupid, too, telling me he had something I wanted, and by extension where to find it WITHOUT taking his deal."

There was something in Gortash's face then that she had never seen before.

Shock.

"I...presume...that you are not talking about th--"

"Raphael of the House of Hope, the one who wanted me to hand over the crown to him so he could become king of the hells or something along those lines."

"And you are...quite certain...that he is dead?"

"Certain as the sunrise," Tav replied. "He'd been a smoothtalking pain in my ass for too long for me NOT to kill him."

A pause...and then, from nowhere--one second, Gortash was laying beside her, looking her in the eye. The next, his lips were on hers and he was moving over her.

"Eager," she got out quickly, and when he let her break for air she added, "Aren't we?"

He didn't answer. There was a pause, and then, in rather an awkward dance she reached down to pull up the hem of her gown as his hands moved down to rid himself of his trousers.

"Off," he demanded, once he was bare before her, as he tugged her gown up and over her head. He yanked off her underclothes and moved atop her, planting another hot kiss on her lips.

Tav returned the kiss, and awkwardly shifted beneath Gortash as she spread her legs for him. And despite the awkward maneuvering due to her swollen belly, they contented themselves like this for several minutes.

He seemed to want to say something at one point--but then apparently thought better of it, and settled for pressing his hard cock against her wet heat and thrusting inwards a moment later. Tav groaned, and reached up, wanting to hold SOMETHING. Her hands ended up on his shoulders.

"Please," she said, meeting his eyes, "I want--"

It was what usually excited him. Her begging, pleading to be fucked, yet somehow this time, she didn't need to say any more. He drew back and pushed forward in rapid thrusts that were pushing her high already from how deep they were hitting.

More, more, MORE

Tav's nails clenched at the skin of his shoulders, and her knees squeezed at his sides as his hips rocked against hers. Gods above, how badly she suddenly wanted to kiss him again!

But there would be none of that, only the repeated invasions of his cock, spearing and spreading her around him as he vented whatever in the hell this was.

"More," she moaned softly, "More..."

She needed him now, wanted to feel him within her, to be reminded of what passion lay behind that dark smirking face of his.

And he was going to give it to her.

Gortash's thrusts grew faster and faster still. He braced himself with one hand and lowered his face, only just far enough away from hers to prevent a kiss. But she could see it now, the expression, the desperate need for her, the agonizing pleasure he felt as the climb begin.

It was like he wanted her to see his ecstasy, to witness what he was drawing from her.

"Harder--"

It sparked suddenly, unexpectedly, and Tav forced herself to keep that eye contact as the pleasure seized and burned through her body in rapid wildfire.

"Oh, gods!"

She moaned for Gortash, let him hear her pleasure, let him see the look in her eyes as she let go. It lifted her high, so high, so achingly keen, and then dropped her back into the warm sea of the afterglow.

Faster, and faster still. She was still sensitive but he was thrusting hard, lust driving him onward with no coherent thought or reason other than fuck. She bore with it, bringing her heels up to dig into his ass and encourage him to go deeper still.

No moment of hesitation appeared, as sometimes it had since first they had been married.

Tav kept his gaze, and it was exhilarating. He was close, so close, and for once she was focused solely on that, on seeing his pleasure, taking it in in every sense of the word.

On an inward thrust, as he sheathed himself entirely inside her, it struck him. His cock pulsed and he went empty inside her in three warm waves of lusty heat that rose threatening to drown him.

Gingerly, Gortash withdrew from her and curled close, as though all the troubles of the world melted away with his head on her chest.

For all his scolding that she needed to relax, Tav realized--as she raised a hand to tangle its fingers in his hair--that this was the first time she had ever seen him do so.