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soulmate-game · 4 years

Note

Can you do a prompt of Marinette being the daughter of the Joker and Harley but Harley left him before Marinette was born and when Joker found out about his daughter He decided to kidnap Marinette so she can become like him (Ace chemicals) (Daminette)

Woot, my first ask in a while! Let’s see how I can do this oddly specific ask that reminds me of a fic that might actually exist but tbh I’ve read so many fanfics idk if my brain is remembering right

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette knew Sabine and Tom weren’t her biological parents. She had known ever since she was eight, when her mother by blood visited her for the first time, sat her down, and explained everything. Including, but not limited to, her disastrously toxic past relationship, her new girlfriend, and her recent success with long term rehab (unofficial rehab that mostly consisted of illegal anti-hero actions, but hey if it worked it worked).

Marinette understood. Well no, she really didn’t since she was only eight, but she understood that her mom— that Harley— was genuine. She had always had a knack for emotions and telling when people were sincere or not. And Harley really was regretful about not being in her life beforehand, and was serious about wanting to be part of her life now that her own was mostly sorted out.

So Marinette was not surprised when Harley really did stick it out. When Harley cooed over Marinette copying her hairstyle to show her support of her biological mom, when Harley never failed to call at least once a week even if she was in jail for punching some asshole or another. Harley never stayed arrested long anymore, she was usually found to be on the right side of the moral scale more and more often so the police didn’t bother keeping her locked up anymore. Through the years, Marinette always looked forward to her mom’s calls. Looked forward to being lulled to sleep by one crazy story or another from her mother’s past. Everything was nice. Perfect, even, for a while.

A thump sounded from her balcony, one late night when Marinette was thirteen. Blinking, the dark haired girl furrowed her brows. Who would be on her balcony? Cautiously walking towards the trap door leading to it, grasping her metal pencil holder as a weapon (she remembered all of her Mom’s stories about break-ins and random attacks back in Gotham), the teen strained her ears. Akuma attacks were only a few months old now, but she had already become in high alert for any sign of Hawkmoth or his victims. As per usual, Marinette’s paranoia began to kick in. Did Hawkmoth already figure her out? Was he here for her earrings? Would she be able to fight him?

She gently pushed up the trap door, catching a glimpse of black leather. Huh? Marinette narrowed her eyes, confused. Was it Chat? He should have been on patrol, on the other side of the city. What was he doing visiting her?

Suddenly the trap door yanked the rest of the way open, making Marinette yelp as the handle for it rugged away from her fingers. And there, backlit by the pure blue-white moonlight, was Not Chat Noir. It was Catwoman, in all her skintight black leather glory, grinning at her before pushing her cat-eye goggles up to the top of her head and crouching down by the trap door’s entrance, balancing only on the pads of her feet.

“Well hello there~” the woman purred. “So you’re the cute little kitten Harley is so secretive about. Nice to finally meet you,” the woman held out a hand, sending Marinette a sweet, if mysterious, smile. For a while, the pigtailed girl only stared before a squeal of excitement left her throat, leaving very little room for any doubt as to her bloodline. A large smile curled over Marinette’s lips, leaving her beaming widely at the catlike woman on her balcony.

“Auntie Selina! Mom’s told me so much about you! Come in, come in, come in! I’ll sneak some macaroons up for you. Or do you prefer croissants? What’s your favorite flavor? Are you really dating Batman? Oh my goodness, that necklace is so lovely! Did you steal it?”

Selina could only chuckle fondly at the word vomit, letting the smaller girl drag her down the trap door and into her very… pink room. Looking around, Selina was once again slapped with just how similar this kid was to her outgoing friend. Marinette clearly had no shame in indulging in the things she liked, such as the color pink and anything regarding fashion. But there were other things amongst the girliness of the room, like the posters of Jagged Stone and the training dummy half-sticking out of her closet door. There were a few ornamental knives hung up behind her computer, seemingly just for decoration although Selina could see that they were definitely battle ready and sharpened. A small mallet, clearly a miniature replica of her mother’s own signature weapon, leaned up against the side of the girl’s laundry basket. But then there was Marinette’s mannequin, which was surrounded by meticulously cut pieces of cloth and had other pieces pinned to it strategically. Marinette clearly had the same professionalism and love for her chosen career that had so completely defined Harley in the Time Before Joker. The same genius intellect hiding in those deceptively cheerful bluebell eyes. And for the first time, though not for the last to be sure, Selina found herself thoroughly relieved that it seemed Marinette had inherited very little from her father.

Except, as she would learn from stories Harley told her later, an apparent affinity for chaos.

“I’m not that picky, kitten. But I’m not that hungry, so don’t go too out of your way,” Selina decided to just react the same way she did with Harley’s rambles, and answer one question at a time. “Also, I am actually dating Bruce Wayne. But, if you promise not to tell anyone—“ she waited for Marinette’s eager nod before continuing casually, “— the two are maybe not as mutually exclusive as many think,” Selina finished with a conspiratorial wink. “No, I actually did not steal this necklace. Bruce has been adamant in trying to curb me of my thieving habit by buying me almost everything I so much as glance at sideways. It’s sweet. Naive, because I like stealing for the fun of it, but sweet.”

Marinette giggled, bouncing in place happily. She loved a bit of innocent gossip like this. “Is Momma Ivy ever gonna visit? I don’t think Mom told her much about me yet, and I still gotta give her the shovel talk!” the fierce look that overcame Marinette’s face made Selina laugh again. Oh yes, definitely her mother’s daughter.

“Pam has been trying to sneak over, but the laws regarding Metahumans in Paris suddenly got much stricter a few months back and have caused some problems. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened, would you?” Selina did not miss when her seemingly innocent question caused her niece to close off almost instantly. Bluebell eyes took on a familiar guardedness, and scanned her with the same soul-searching intensity that Harley had when she was channeling her Psychiatrist side. Selina found herself in a slightly concerning spot though—

Because she couldn’t predict Marinette at all. She was left to simply stand there as Marinette searched for some unidentifiable thing in her eyes, completely unable to read the younger girl’s face and with no idea of what to expect. The side effect of having chaos so thoroughly entwined in both of her biological parents, she supposed.

“Nope, no idea.”

Selina knew that was a lie, but knew equally as well that she would not be getting a better answer anytime soon. So, she let it go and the two of them once again dipped into innocent chatter.

Later that night, when Selina left and the sun threatened to rise at any minute, Tikki flew up from her hiding spot under Marinette’s pillow to land on her holder’s shoulder. Marinette giggled and looked over at her little friend.

“Tikki?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Why was I chosen to be your holder?” She asked suddenly, flopping back into her bed and staring at her ceiling. The little goddess hummed, smiling knowingly before flying down to cuddle in the crook of Marinette’s neck.

“Because you are born from luck itself. Even when bad things happen, you have the luck and determination to get out just fine, and stronger than before. And despite the destruction and anarchy in your blood, you have the willpower to reign it in and keep control of yourself. That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good. And that’s a large part of who you are, I could feel it in your soul the moment we first met.”

Marinette closed her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. “What if I lose control?”

“... You’ll just have to get it back. It’ll be hard, but as long as you have people to support you, you will be able to do it. You aren’t evil, Marinette,” the small God seemed to sense the true question her holder was asking, and did her best to soothe the doubt the girl felt. “Just remember the reasons you fight against chaos. Remember everyone you love, and you’ll be okay. And you have me, I’ll always help you.”

“... thank you, Tikki.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was uncanny just how often Marinette’s hunches were right. Her intuition was something to behold, truly, because it only took three days in Gotham before Joker snatched her right out of her room at Harley and Ivy’s apartment. At least Marinette had sixteen by then, so she had had enough experience as a hero in Paris and with generally unpredictable situations and people who were absolutely nuts for her to not immediately panic. Too much, anyway.

Because there was definitely a little panic there.

See, Marinette knew herself inside out by then. After her own battle with her toxic feelings towards Adrien and doing her best to heal from those before she turned out like her mom, she knew she was by no means mentally indestructible. Mental illness ran the high risk of being inherited, and Marinette was well aware that her own personality was scarily similar to her mother’s at times. She got attached quickly, felt affection and love for others very strongly and, as she found with Adrien, could easily become obsessive if she didn’t watch herself. At least Harley was the perfect person to help with that, and Marinette was serious about helping herself too. She did everything she could to keep an eye on her mental health and keep her behavior in check so she didn’t do anything too unhealthy with her relationships again.

But she knew, she knew she had a soft spot for family. She got attached too easily. And being in the same room as her biological father, despite being tied up by her hands and feet and knowing just how many unforgivable things he had done in his life, Marinette felt vulnerable. She didn’t want to hurt him, despite everything. She still loved him, despite every reason not to, despite her first meeting with him being with him shoving chloroform over her face and hogtying her to a metal chain dangling over a vat of acid.

Geez, she’d need more than just her mom as a therapist after this for sure. Even if her mom had a PH.D, Marinette felt like she’d need several psychiatrists to sort through her emotional turmoil right then and make sense of any of it.

Marinette licked her lips, aware that the only kindness that Joker gave his daughter was sparing her from the discomfort of being gagged.

“Don’t,” Marinette said, surprising herself with the amount of steel she was able to put into her voice. Somehow, she managed to make the single word sound more like an order than a plead. “Joker, put me—“

“Ah-Ah-Ah!” The clown walked over, tutting and waving his finger in the air in almost playful admonishment. He gave her a dramatically fake pout. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to refer to your father by his first name?” Neither of them mentioned that Joker was definitely not his real name. They both knew the point was moot. “Say it with me now— ‘Daddy dearest, I am more than willing to be dunked in acid for you,’ go ahead, say it.”

Marinette’s jaw clenched. Familial love or not, she would not tolerate being ridiculed like that. She dealt with enough ridicule when she was fourteen and fifteen during school, before she put Liar Rossi in her place. She had spent the past three years as a hero in charge of the war against Hawkmoth, in charge of protecting all of Paris from an emotional terrorist.

And gee, wasn’t that what Joker was, too? Sure, he was a terrorist in the classic meaning of the word as well, but he was nothing if not a skilled manipulator. He knew the human mind just as well as Harley or any other psychiatrist did, he just used his knowledge for different means. He had emotionally abused Harley for years, he emotionally abused and manipulated people all across gotham on a daily basis. He was just another Hawkmoth, but with more physical violence in place of magic.

With these thoughts strengthening her resolve, Marinette narrowed her eyes at the man who donated half of her DNA. She let her anger boil into her irises, hitting him with one of the few traits she knew she inherited from him.

Her ability to intimidate others on the tip of a hat.

“No,” she growled back at him. She took a deep breath. It had taken her a while, but she refused to be ashamed of who she was regardless of her blood relation. She would have no problem using the very things she inherited from Joker against him. She might have gotten most of Harley’s personality, she might have inherited her mother’s habit of falling in love hard, fast, and obsessively, but she also had Joker’s defiance. His bone-deep inability to be stopped from doing exactly whatever the fuck he wanted.

And then, there were Marinette’s own traits. The ones that were completely her own, developed over her life organically. Like her refusal to bow down to bullies, her creativity, her ability to take even the most chaotic situation and see some sort of balance and sanity in it that she could use to her advantage.

That she WOULD use to her advantage. The shadows she saw move out of the corner of her eye gave her the chance to do exactly that, she just needed to buy a few more seconds. Just a few more seconds.

“Excuse me?” Joker growled right back, his own intimidation, honed over more years than Marinette had been alive and thus much more potent than her own, reading its ugly head as he stalked towards her. His face was pulled down into an ugly snarl, his shoulders tensed and back straight as he glared right at her. From his spot on the metal walkway, he was easily able to reach over the railing and grab her chin in one pale, viciously strong hand. “I think you’re misunderstanding something here, little Marionette. I’m your father. Half of your life came directly from ME. That makes you my puppet. You exist to follow my orders,” his right grip suddenly let go, leaving behind the beginnings of a bruise as his entire demeanor changed from angry to cheerful. He spread his arms as if gesturing to the whole chemical plant victoriously, and an unnaturally large smile curved over his lips and bared yellowing teeth at her. “But that’s okay. I’ll forgive you this time, you haven’t learned any better yet. That’s why we’re here. We need to cleanse you of all those icky bad habits you’ve learned up until now, all you need is a little,” he bounced in place with a wicked smirk to illustrate his next words— “jumpstart. A little acid goes a long way to enlightenment you know, you’ll see my side of things in no time. And with my blood in you, you’ll make a better sidekick than that idiot Harley ever did. I can sense it, you’ve got a real talent for Chaos in you, it’s exciting, Heheeeheheee! Now then, we should probably speed things along before our family reunion is cut short. Hang in there, my little Marionette,” the man actually had the gall to spin in place while humming a tune cheerfully before all but dancing over to the lever that held Marinette’s length of chain in the air over the vat of chemicals below her. “Everything will clear up in that little head of yours in just a second!”

There! Right as Joker pulled the switch to lower her into the bubbling vat underneath her, Marinette was able to finish untying her hands. She couldn’t contain a small yelp as gravity flung her body forward, leaving her upside down on the chain for a brief moment. That was when the chain started lowering rapidly, and Marinette was barely able to rip the rope off of her ankles in time to swing off of it and onto the metal walkway that came up right next to the giant metal container of liquid death and insanity. Joker had barely enough time to shout in rage before the windows near the ceiling shattered, admitting the city’s vigilantes themselves. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Robin, and evening Black Bat all landed on the same metal platform above Marinette’s head that Joker was still on, buying the teen time to start running. But she didn’t go towards the exit right away, instead heading right up the stairs into the thick of the fight. Robin briefly separated from where Joker was managing to hold his own, goons flooding from side doors to inhibit the heroes in their attempt to bring their boss down.

The katana-using vigilante kept one eye on Marinette the whole time, suspicious of why the girl would come back up if not to help her father. But that wasn’t what she did, instead she flipped and kicked and punched her way through the quickly growing sea of Joker thugs until she reached a small pink purse that had been abandoned near the lever that had nearly sent her into liquid insanity. Three thugs surrounded her right as she snatched the purse up and slung it over her shoulder, but Robin barely had the chance to head over before she was heaving the men, who were all easily three times her size, over her shoulder and was slamming elbows into soft spots and the side of her hand into pressure points. By the time Robin got to her side, all three men were unconscious and bound to wake up in utter agony.

Marinette glanced up, getting ready to haul Robin over her shoulder as well before she realized who he was. She let her shoulders relax just a tick, sighing in relief before returning her eyes to scanning their surroundings. She shot him a brief grin.

“Good thing my adoptive mother, Mom, Momma Ivy, and Auntie Selina all made sure I knew how to take down a small army on my own, huh?” She asked rhetorically before they were both unceremoniously dragged back into the giant brawl.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Nettie-pie!”

“Marigold!”

Harley and Pamela Quinzel-Isley shoved down anyone and everyone who dared block their direct path to their daughter. The girl of the hour stood next to the bat clan, a shock blanket held tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to finish her statement to both the vigilantes and Commissioner Gordon.

“You untied yourself… from a ship-grade knot in high quality rope… with a phone charm?” They heard Gordon ask incredulously, to which Marinette could only give a lopsided smile. That was when her mom and stepmom crashed into her, enveloping her in a nearly suffocating hug.

“Gah— mom— momma Ivy—“ Marinette flailed in their arms for a bit before finally getting her head free and continuing her statement as if she didn’t have two of the most dangerous women in the city still giving her a bone crushing hug. “That’s better. Yes, Commissioner. You see, I realized when I was in the car with Joker, while I was pretending to still be unconscious, that one of the charms on my phone had pretty sharp corners that I could use like a serrated edge if I had enough time. So I carefully detached it from my phone, and held it in my palm. It took almost an hour, but once Joker noticed I was awake I kept him talking so that he didn’t notice what I was doing even as he tied me up to that chain. Really, it’s just lucky that I was able to get it worn down in time,” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck with a nervous chuckle. “But regardless, I think Batman and his partners,” she nodded to the listening vigilantes just to the side of her. “Were close enough that I would have been caught anyway, I just wanted to make sure they had less work to do. The sooner I freed myself, the sooner ‘Daddy Dearest,’” she grimaced as she mockingly used the same term Joker had tried to get her to say earlier that night. “Could go back behind bars where he belongs.”

“Oh my little Nettie-cake,” Harley cried, finally pulling back from the hug long enough to wipe her cheeks. It was clear that she had been crying for a while, and her colorful pigtails were mussed and tangled from where she must have been tugging on them in worry. “You were right. I’m so sorry, I never should have let you come to Gotham when I knew he was out of Arkham.”

Marinette was quick to shake her head frantically, pulling her arms out of Ivy’s hold so she could grasp Harley’s shoulders firmly. “No. No, Mom, I’m fine! And besides, we knew I couldn’t stay secret forever. I really like staying with you and Momma Ivy! Everything turned out fine though, and he’s headed back to Arkham. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Nettle,” Pam argued, distracting herself by running her hands through Marinette’s bangs. She had only known the girl for two years, but that was more than long enough for her to consider the teenager as her own. “He took you right out from under our noses. You were supposed to be safe in our home, and he still got to you. That’s not okay. We weren’t able to protect you like we should have been. Maybe you should go back to Paris early.”

“What?! No way!” Marinette argued, eyes wide. “This is the first time I’ve been able to ever visit you guys in Gotham, I’m not letting some psycho sperm donor keep me from enjoying time with my family! I came here knowing full well that it was dangerous. I’m not gonna just run away after one bad experience.”

Harley snorted, and then devolved into uncontrollable giggles. “Heh— psycho sperm donor. Good one, sugar!”

Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes good naturedly at her mom’s usual immature antics. Seeing as Gordon had walked away muttering to himself a short while ago, Marinette pulled herself the rest of the way away from her moms and turned to the vigilantes. Without a second’s pause, she bowed to them just like her Maman Sabine taught her.

“Thank you for helping save me. I know it’s probably a shock that I’ve been kept secret from you guys all this time, but I hope you don’t lump me in with the likes of the green-haired half of my DNA. I’m staying with my Moms in their apartment, if you guys decide to patrol by our place like I suspect, I’ll leave some baked goods and coffee out for you on our patio. It’s the least I can do for you all after tonight. And don’t be too hard on Auntie Selina. Me and Mom swore her to secrecy, even from you guys.”

Batman jerked a little at the mention of Catwoman’s real name, jaw twitching for a second. Behind his cowl, his eyes narrowed. Marinette laughed, easily reading his body language and expression.

“She never told me who you are, but she didn’t exactly hide it either. It was easy to put the last pieces together on my own. But don’t worry, SHE swore me to secrecy too. I won’t tell anyone.

“How the hell are you related to the Laughing Asswipe from Hell?” Red Hood blurted out, his confusion clear even from behind his hideous helmet. Marinette burst into giggles, and both Pamela and Harley smiled knowingly.

“Mom gave me up for adoption when I was born, so I spent my whole life in Paris up until now,” she admitted. “Mom didn’t visit me for the first time until I was eight, and she and my adoptive parents are so awesome that it must’ve suffocated the worst traits from his DNA before they had a chance to develop,” she guessed out loud with a good natured smile.

Batman grunted. Marinette knew that one run-in wasn’t enough for them to trust her. After all, she was still the biological daughter of their arch enemy. But she didn’t mind, she understood the caution even if she didn’t fully agree with it. They weren’t outright hostile, despite the fact that Robin had never stopped glaring at her since they fought back-to-back against the mob of thugs earlier. She could live with their suspicion, as long as they continued to not be outright rude or mean to her.

At least she could empathize with Adrien now, whenever she figured out how to break it to him that Hawkmoth was definitely Gabriel and couldn’t be anyone else. Hopefully she could help soften the blow for him a little.

Harley and Ivy were starting to herd Marinette towards their car and take her back home, where they could continue to smother her in care and make sure she didn’t have even a scratch on her, when Robin’s voice stopped them all in their tracks.

“You are a surprisingly capable combatant.”

Marinette froze, blinking in surprise for a second before turning to stare at Robin in shock. The rest of the Bat Clam was doing the same, nobody expecting Robin of all people to be the first to directly complement Marinette. He tutted, crossing his arms, but never moved his gaze away from Marinette’s eyes.

“But your form could use some work. Most of your style is incredibly improvised, which I can appreciate since you do it well, but you would benefit from more structure in your fighting. I will set up a time and place for us to spar. We start in two days, if you think you can handle it.”

It took a while for what Robin said to sink in, and another few seconds for Marinette to decipher what his semi-aggressive, order-phrased proposal really meant. And she smiled.

“It’s a date.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Woo! This started off a little rough, but I really like how it ended up! Thank you, Anon!

#ml x dc #maribat #mlb x dc #eventual daminette #pre daminette #daminette #Bio!dad joker #bio!mom Harley Quinn #Joker Sucks #Request #Oneshot #Fanfiction #crossover

694 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

Girls’ Night — a girlfriends’ tale

Characters: OCs (Vixen, Princess, Lace), small Namjoon intromission

Wordcount: 12.2k

Genre: slice of life with discussion of BDSM themes, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello doves! As I announced the other day, I have been working on extra pieces that I really loved as a concept. This one — I must admit — is especially dear to me since it covers topics that I consider extremely important. This fic discusses mature themes. Please minors, do not read or interact.

Quick recap: (read Jimin’s Love Talk if you want to know the whole background for this story) Princess — Jimin’s girlfriend — has ventured into the world of BDSM after Jimin expressed his interest in being dominated and spanked. A few days after her first brief session with Jimin, two old acquaintances come to her help: Vixen — Namjoon’s girlfriend and Princess’ high school classmate — and Lace, Vixen’s best friend, Princess’ university flatmate but also Taehyung’s latest crush. (Tae and Lace met through Vixen at Taehyung’s housewarming party). The girls meet for dinner at Princess’ apartment and after some confessions and girl talk, they explore the most important rules and procedures a person should know before dominating their partner in a basic impact play scenario, with special contributions of a trained domme and an experienced brat.

The piece is written with the girls as characters described through the POV of an external narrator. If you want to get to know the characters a bit better, you can find their headcanons here (Vixen — Princess — Lace).

On a lexical note: throughout the text I’ve used the word “dom” both as in short of the verb and of the noun. Even though the feminine form is usually “domme”, I’ve considered it gender neutral, as a short term for both “dominator” and “dominatrix”.

On an ethical note: I wanted to raise awareness on how a safe, sane and consensual domination works. These days there’s an increasing number of BDSM pieces coming out, and very few of them mention the level of emotional connection that is necessary in these circumstances. Most of them focus on the scene, without showing how pre-session negotiations, aftercare and post-session feedback work. I wanted this piece to be educational and I wanted to show the “background work” on how I plan each BDSM-themed piece before I write it. Though I’ve done a lot of research on handbooks, websites and forums, I am NOT a BDSM educator, so I would recommend reading more in-depth manuals in case you ever decided to venture in this world, and possibly speak with an expert first.

On to trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, obviously there is in-depth discussion of NSFW and BDSM themes with focus on impact play. Discussion of hard limits, negotiations, SSC (safe, sane, consensual), safewords, aftercare, bruising, cutting/puncturing (connected with cane and cat-o-nine-tales whipping), marking, pain kink, punishment, drop (both for subs and doms), anatomy of impact play (where to hit, how to hit), sex toys (spanking, face slapping, paddle, riding crop, slapper, strap, whip, flogger, cane). That should be all. In terms of angst, there is some insecurity, jealousy, and slightly traumatic past experiences. Lace recalls one time she “dropped”, Vixen recalls a series of quite intense scenes. There are mentions of Vixen’s second relationship (toxic relationship with a man who called her out for her sex drive, kinkshamed her and forced her into becoming exclusively vanilla). Both Princess and Vixen mention abandoning some friends since they couldn’t trust them close to their boyfriends, or not respecting their privacy. Lace mentions traumas that lead her to learn domination. She also explains her insecurities about possibly dating Taehyung.

Word count: lengthy. 12.2k words. Reading is not necessary but recommended since a lot of pieces stem directly from this one.

Here is my masterlist!

Enjoy 💖

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EDIT: You can find part two here

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Lace came through with the loud stomps of the heels of her boots, the bag on her shoulder swaying heavily. It looked like she was ready to enter Cat Woman mode, wearing a cropped leather jacket rimmed with a thick black-fur neck. Her wondrous thighs were clad in tight, high-waisted jeans, her black leather knee boots completing the look. She impeccably wore her part.

As she neared the door, she checked her watch, noticing that she was a couple minutes early.

Five minutes later, always fashionably late, arrived Vixen, her hair falling perfectly around her pretty face, her lips tinged with a deep wine red, her doe eyes as inquisitive and wide as usual. It was exactly the girl she had met two years before on the other side of the counter of her shop, it looked like she hadn't aged a week.

"Hello!" She greeted her friend.

"Hi there! Look at you, you look like the best girlie in the world." Lace hollered back.

"Because I am." Vixen replied, basking in the attention and the praises.

"That self esteem is thriving! Freshly fucked and ready to misbehave?"

"Unfortunately not freshly enough, but you know me, I'm always ready to misbehave." Vixen winked before making her way to the entrance of the building, pressing the buzz for Princess' apartment.

"Isn't your big boy attending to his duties?" Lace asked, curious about the whole situation. She had personally met Namjoon and had seen the two of them together. They looked like the it-couple and she would gladly bet big money on the pair. Plus she knew about Vixen's collection and Namjoon's taste in terms of lingerie and negligees: in her honest opinion that's a solid base for a lasting union.

"He's attending, yes, but I don't want to vex him with my continuous cravings."

"Baby, not all of us are like that slut-shaming bastard of your ex. Stop thinking that needing to get laid more than once a week is a shame."

Princess voice sounded from the intercom. "Hi! It's floor 16 number 41!"

"Thank you!" Vixen replied before pushing the door open.

Lace slapped her hand and held the door as Vixen walked through. The other followed. "It's just that… He's been busy, plus he keeps saying he likes to come back early so we can have dinner together, he's always rushing from the studio to the dorms to his apartment. He looks like he'll get drunk on motion sickness before the tour even starts."

Lace stared at her feet as you both stood in the lift. How could she start something serious with Taehyung if they were going on tour? By the time she would get used to him he would be travelling on the other side of the world.

"So he stays at the dorms?" Lace fixed her bag on her shoulder.

"Often, yes. He stays at the apartment when I'm around, but he prefers the dorms when he's by himself or working."

The lift dinged and you exited, heading down the hallway "Thirty-eight, forty, there!" Lace chirped, noticing the open door.

There stood Princess, hair in a ponytail, wearing a fashionable white turtleneck and a thigh knee-length skirt. She looked classy and smart, just like she had appeared during previous meetings.

"Hello girls!" She waved at the pair, gesturing at them to come in.

"Hi there!" said Lace, "long time no see."

"We don’t see each other in ages and then two times in less than a month." Princess replied while hugging her. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we reacquainted?”

Vixen nodded with a cute smile. "It would. I must say it was a surprise to meet you at the party with Jimin." Vixen took off her shoes as Princess offered her a pair of slippers.

"It seems like fate brought us back together." Princess replied.

“Indeed.” She commented, thinking about how they would get even closer if she gave in to the preternatural connection with Taehyung. Lace tugged at her boots, fighting with them a little before finally removing them, lost in her thoughts. She clumsily tried to avoid Vixen’s stare. She knew the girl would spot her secret in a second. Not now, she told herself. With the slippers on, Lace still looked like Catwoman from the ankles up, but her feet were clad with a pair of pink panther slippers that gave the outfit a hilarious twist.

"Let's move to the kitchen," Princess said, leading the way. "The apartment is small, sorry."

"Don't worry sweetie, with a view like this I would gladly live in a shoebox." Vixen commented, looking out of the window. "Plus you live pretty high up."

"It was accidental. I just needed something close to my office."

"What did you end up doing?" Lace asked as she looked at the prints on the wall.

"I work for a fashion magazine. Usually I do model casting and a little bit of everything about organising photoshoots." Princess replied.

"That sounds great!" Lace exclaimed, grinning.

Princess clumsily opened a bottle of wine, but fortunately no damage resulted. "What about you?"

"I'm a shop assistant in a lingerie shop." Lace replied.

"Don't diminish yourself like that." Vixen said, looking away from the window. "She works at the La Perla boutique in Gangnam, plus she has her own studio where she creates customised orders." The woman patted her friend on the shoulder. "She's amazing."

Princess lit up. "So you managed to make part of your dream come true!"

"A small part. I'm still far from having my own shop." Lace exhaled.

"But she's getting there." Vixen added with a positive note.

"I ordered in a little bit of everything." Princess said, taking the food out of the oven. "I didn't trust my cooking skills knowing this one." She pointed at Vixen. "I've heard you're almost a chef."

"I just took lessons." She shrugged. "I just really like everything that feels like home."

Sniffing at the air, Vixen sparked up, getting cozy at the smell of bulgogi. "This smells very nice."

"A little bird told me it's your favourite." Princess winked.

"Do I know that little bird?"

"He knows you very well." Princess said, admiring how the polished, elegant woman-girl turned completely smitten.

"I'll make sure to thank him."

Lace snickered. "Do you need help?" She offered, while Princess laid out a bunch of smaller plates and bowls with side dishes. "I got some dumplings, pancakes and our baby's favourite: braised potatoes."

Vixen clapped enthusiastically.

Dinner proceeded calmly, all the partakers digging in quietly, chitchatting between one serving and another, catching up on the various mishaps that had happened during those years apart.

"So you studied in Europe, right?" Princess asked Vixen.

"I spent almost two years between France and England, yes." She replied politely, sipping her wine composedly as if she hadn't devoured her serving of potatoes like a very smug wolf.

"Cool. But you came back here." Princess continued.

"Yes, I missed home. And I missed jajangmyeon." Vixen grinned. "Food in general. I like my life here. Living in Europe to me felt like being continuously on the sidetrack of something. Catching up with the culture is seriously a challenge, especially when you're in the art world."

"Right, you're an interior designer." Princess reminded herself.

"Exactly."

"I've heard you met Namjoon because of that."

Vixen smiled. "Yeah, well… The usual. We met at a gallery, I had a meeting with the artist and he accidentally participated. The artist and the director of the gallery accompanied us through the exhibition and at the end he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. At the beginning I thought it strange that he hadn't booked a private visit, but he said that because of a last minute plan he had begged the director to book him in anytime. Since I'm friends with the director and I have strict privacy agreements at the firm, the curator thought it was a good idea."

"Who would have thought, uh?" Lace chirped in, laying her chopsticks on her empty bowl.

"Y'all, soju?" Princess asked, now that they were all done with the food.

While Vixen nodded, Lace held back. "I think I'll take just a sip. It gets me bloated."

The table was clean, the small cups for soju laying on the table as Princess shook the bottle and poured it according to tradition.

"Cheers to your taken asses and my single one." Offered Lace, the three of them laughing and downing the liquid. Princess drank it without even blinking, Lace taking it in a small measured way while Vixen downed it and scrunched her nose, shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head as she processed the burn.

"You're still a doll." Princess commented.

"And you're still otherworldly cool." Vixen replied, smirking. "You were the most bad ass girl of the class. I had lots of respect for you, but I was so scared of approaching you."

"You were so tiny and shy." Princess gushed. "You were everyone's crush but you were so smart. And a bit strange. It felt wrong to even think of you like that."

Vixen shook her head, "It feels strange to bring up those memories. After university and being abroad it feels like another life."

"Because many things changed in the meantime." Lace argued. "I've known you since you started working, two years ago."

"I spent half of my first paycheck at your shop."

"You did. And I asked you for coffee because I liked your sense of fashion."

"I thought you wanted to date me." Vixen laughed.

"Well, when you're done snuggling your big bear, you know you can come to me." Lace winked.

"My bear is pretty big so it might take me a while to be done with that." Vixen joked. "Plus I'm pretty happy. I haven't been this happy since I was nineteen. I'm content. Satisfied. Taken care of. Loved. I'm thriving." She closed her eyes and shrugged, smiling.

"My bad." Lace patted her own shoulder in support. "What about you and Jimin?"

"Oh, we met during a photoshoot. I assisted in his shoot and when he was done he asked to see the pictures that would feature on the magazine. That's when he asked me out for dinner." Princess said, her eyes shining as she remembered the event.

Lace noticed the two women staring at her. "Well time for my story… Me and my dildo met at the store, he was cute, I was needy and I invited him to my bed. That's how we first met and we've been happy ever since." Lace told emotionally. The other two burst out laughing, Vixen holding her belly while Princess leaned on the table.

"Oh goodness." The smaller one said.

"I think it's time we face our main topic. Would you like to start?." Lace asked Princess.

"Okay. I'll be very direct." Princess warned.

"Don't worry, we're all grown ups here. You're safe, darling." Vixen stretched her arm out to caress her forearm. "And we're pretty open minded, trust me."

"Okay. Basically, Jimin would like me to get a bit more rough in the bedroom. Namely, we tried spankings the other week. He sort of power-bottomed? Like he gave me instructions on how to do it."

Lace nodded.

"I am worried about how to handle this. I want to do it, but I don't know how to do it right. I don't want to hurt him." Princess said with a frown. “And I’m a little worried I liked it so much.”

Lace’s lips formed a small conspiratorial smile. “At the beginning there’s always a little bit of fear. And a bit of… Shame.”

“Yes.” Princess confirmed. “But it’s not something that bothers me. Like, it’s there but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t think it will persist. When I think about what we did… Well, I’m almost proud.”

Lace smirked and nodded. “That’s good. What would you like to work on? Is it just impact play — you called it "spanking" — or is it also domination on a broader sense?"

"Well… Wait, I took notes." Princess looked around, walking towards her bedroom and coming back with a small notebook and the guide.

"It's the book!" Lace exclaimed.

"The book." Vixen wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

"You, vixen." Lace smirked. "Namjoon is right calling you that."

"You have no idea." The other replied. "Now, let's see."

"I'll return you the book." Princess reassured her.

"You can keep it for another bit. You'll need it again with Jimin."

"We have our own copy, don't worry." Princess replied, with a quick smirk. "Well, I think I can dom pretty fine — as I read the book I realised I already have some of those behaviours. However there are some practices I might have to learn in person."

"Normally we teach how to dom through subbing: what you experienced the first time with Jimin was subliminally subbing." Lace took the reins and explained. "It is one of the most sophisticated forms of domming — being a power bottom — and the fact that he did that should suggest you that A — he's a very skilled sub, or B — he's generically a very smart person with good manipulative skills."

Princess listened to the explanation quite raptured. "Personally, I don't know how far he's gone with his exes but I would say he has taken the lead before and he's quite used to speak up and order me around a little, so his behaviour might come from that."

Lace nodded. "I would recommend that you talk to him and try to design a specific plan for the two of you. As I hinted before I have taken lessons on BDSM practices in a club here in the city. I have received almost two years of training and I have taken part as an assistant to a teacher for another two years, that's why I might sound academic and serious. You can stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable or when you need to ask a question." That's when Lace shifted. Her whole position changed: her back got straighter and her hands splayed on the table, somehow squaring her position.

"Okay." Princess confirmed.

"You know that during university I took that course on acrobatic yoga?" Lace asked.

Princess frowned. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, it wasn't exactly acrobatic yoga." Lace shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "At the beginning I did do some acrobatic yoga lessons but then one of the students introduced me to this BDSM course and I left yoga for… yeah, you know." Lace laughed.

Vixen listened quietly, observing Princess' reaction.

"Would you consider taking lessons from an expert?" Lace asked.

Princess shrugged. "I think that the book was very good on general analysis. Personally, I've never considered meeting an expert mostly because I wouldn't know where to look for one. Plus, I've only had a week to think about this."

Vixen looked at Lace. "I'll be very blunt here, darling. I think that the best thing to do would be discussing the whole book thing with Jimin. Have pre-session negotiations. Discuss stuff. Find out what you want to explore and go there together."

Lace raised an eyebrow. "However, it is perfectly okay if you want to practice by yourself. Being a good dominant means that you can convey control and safety through your stance and behaviour. That requires practice."

Vixen nodded before adding, "It's okay if you want to take some steps by yourself before bringing him into the equation."

"Okay, so I reckon you have quite some knowledge on the theme. Maybe you could teach me something?" Princess asked Lace, a bit shy but fully determined.

Lace smirked. "That's why I came prepared. However, I must remind you I have been a co-trainer, and that doesn't mean I am a teacher, therefore I can only cover the basic stuff, which for now will suffice."

Vixen's eyes burned expectantly.

"Our girl here might help you see stuff through a submissive's eyes, right?" Lace questioned.

Vixen nodded and smiled, reassuring Princess by placing a hand on top of hers.

"Okay. Let's talk about general principles. BDSM is an acronym for Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism. But I guess you read this in the book." Lace presented.

Princess nodded.

"The golden rule is SSC: Safe, Sane, Consensual. Use protection and make sure that you're both tested and clean if you go without a condom or dental dams. Also, keep your toys clean. Do not start anything if your judgement is clouded — by alcohol, drugs or violent, instinctual emotions. Make sure that both you and your partner want the same things. Explain what is going to happen and negotiate before each session — at least for the first few times. This is also the right moment to talk about safe words."

"Me and Jimin covered these already." Princess noted.

“Then you’re already halfway there. The biggest part of training is making people always aware of all the steps that could possibly go wrong and make sure that you’re prepared for the worst case scenario.”

Vixen nodded. “As a sub, it is important to feel safe. An anxious sub is a sub who can hardly feel pleasure, and that invalidates the experience as a whole. We only do it for pleasure.”

Princess listened carefully and thought about it a little. “How… How does it feel…To be a sub? I mean, I’ve sort of subbed with Jimin but… Yeah.”

“Well, I’m leaning-sub. That means I rarely dom, and when I do I’m a power bottom — that thing that Jimin did when he gave you instructions on how to dominate him. Being a sub has a lot to do with feeling cherished and taken care of. Some of us are not comfortable with power and responsibilities. Some of us simply like to be told what to do and please. I like doing what Joon tells me to do and do it perfectly the way he wants it to be done, because I know he will praise me and reward me. I know that he loves me regardless of me doing what he wants, but it pleases me immensely to use my submission to show him how far my trust and love for him go. I feel safe when I'm in his hands. And I like punishment, it helps me deal with guilt. When I make a mistake, I always torture myself with guilt and self-hate, but punishment makes me feel like I've made a mistake and I've paid for it. The point is not the punishment, but rather the forgiveness and the sense of atonement afterwards." Vixen spoke with a composed attitude, however her eyes wandered around nervously, as if trying to avoid meeting the others’ gazes.

"In that case the dominant is supposed to be attentive in terms of how far the submissive pushes themself. A sub looking for forgiveness is a sub willing to go further than normal, which means that they might inadvertently reach their breaking point — which shall never happen." Lace highlighted.

"The golden rule is to always leave hungry. There is a fine line between satiety and nausea. The moment you overstep and reach nausea is the moment your sub might hurt themself." Vixen said, tight lipped.

Princess nodded. "I'm glad we can have this conversation. It's not something I can quite talk about with my friends since the whole situation with the boys is pretty delicate. I had to close some of those friendships to keep Jimin safe. I realised I couldn't trust some of those people and I'm glad I realised before it was too late."

Vixen’s leg started bouncing. “Same with Joon. I don’t have that many friends in the city, mostly because of the time abroad and the fact that all of the friends I had by now are married and/or with kids. I couldn’t trust many of them, but you —” she said, gesturing towards Lace, “and when I introduced you to Namjoon I told him you were one of the most discreet people in the world, because you value your privacy and other people’s privacy because of your, uhm, lessons.”

“It feels good to have someone to share this burden with. I’m pretty scared of the tour.” Vixen looked down. The poised young woman seemed to crumble, giving space to an insecure little creature. “We’ve been dating since last November, but our relationship hasn’t really begun until late February. To be honest I’m terrified.”

Both Lace and Princess reached out for her.

“I’m scared.”

“Have you told him?”

“Yes, he knows.” Vixen sparked up for a minute. “We talk a lot. He always asks me how I feel about things. Lately I’ve been spending all my time away from work with him. It’s been… maybe three days since I last went back to my apartment. And in the last month or so I’ve slept alone maybe three or four nights. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s away.” Vixen’s eyes welled up with tears before she smiled classily and recomposed herself. “But that’s not relevant.”

“It is, baby.” Princess rubbed her shoulder. “You have my number. You can reach out to me anytime.”

“I’ll be there too, you know. I know I’m not your Big Bear, but I can cook and I’m an excellent vintage movie marathon partner.” Lace rubbed the other shoulder, catching the few tears that had fallen. This was a further confirmation that Namjoon was the right man for Vixen: he had reached out to Lace a few weeks after they had been introduced, asking her if it was cool if he asked her updates on Vixen during the tour, mostly because he knew she would put up her strong, charming face in front of him, but secretly she would be worrying over his absence. That brought them close; it felt good to create this safety net for Vixen and it felt even better to know her in the hands of a man worthy of her, attentive despite his busy schedule and strong work ethic.

“Thank you, girls. That’s really sweet of you.”

“You’re the one who made this possible,” said Princess, gesturing to the three of them sitting at the table together. “I owe you. And I reckon this is a good time to make amends for not making friends with you in high school.” Princess laughed. “We’ll all need each other. We could have a group chat with Jin’s girlfriend too. Plus Jimin mentioned Yoongi is seeing someone.”

“Yes, Namjoon mentioned too. I’ve heard she’s a lawyer. He’s got this insanely huge crush on her.” Vixen giggled. “I haven’t met her yet but I’ve heard they were supposed to go out tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll see her at the next gathering.” Princess wondered. “I must admit I’m curious.”

“I am too.”

Lace felt a bit out of the conversation. “Me and Taehyung have been texting.”

Vixen blinked and turned to her. “What?” She had this face that read perfect confusion. “How long? And you’ve never told me? I mean, I gave him your number but I didn’t—”

“It’s because I haven’t been really taking him into consideration until recently.” Lace replied. “Normally I would reply to him with small texts, just to avoid sounding rude.”

“You mean to tell me you have Taehyung wrapped around your little finger — Kim Heartthrob Taehyung — and you weren’t even interested? Have you been doing drugs too?” Vixen looked outraged. “Fucking insane.” She shook her head.

“You know me. I value my privacy. Do you know how fucking un-private it is to potentially date that man? What if they find out about my extracurriculars?” Lace pointed out.

Vixen exhaled and formed a tight-lipped smile.

“Don’t give me the disappointed mom look.” Lace replied. “Plus I’m the same age as you, you have no right to turn judgemental.”

“Of course.” Vixen nodded. “Your safety first, love.”

“It’s just that I want to, but I can barely imagine how fucked up that could be.”

Princess breathed out. “Jimin and I have been extremely private about us and me being so close to the press means I am risking so much.” Princess opened her arms wide. “But it would take a catastrophe to take him away from me.”

“Give him a chance. Tell him about everything outright and let him choose. He’ll take his chance. Don’t choose for him.” Vixen pointed out. “That’s how I did with Joon. We talked and clearly said ‘this is what I need and what I can give, can you comply? Are you okay with it?’ It’s a bit of a bet, but I think the prospect of gain outweighs the actual risk of it.”

Lace nodded. “And then there’s the tour.”

Vixen and Princess nodded. Vixen tried to keep her insecurity and jealousy at bait. All those girls drooling over him, all those female staff members travelling with him. She propped her elbows on the table and pressed her forehead against her palms, her lovely hair falling forward.

Princess, sitting beside her, rubbed her back. “What if you just give him one date. Tell him your situation both about your, uhm— hobby and your emotional state. I’m sure he will understand. His emotional intelligence is impressive.” Princess stated, nodding, her hand still rubbing Vixen’s spine.

“He’s the kind of man I would gladly be a sucker for.” Lace explained. “I knew I was a dom since I was eighteen, but Jesus, I know I would sub for him.” Vixen seemed to awaken at that comment. “I’ve seen his stages. He is insane.” Lace bit her lip. “But I need time to trust him. And it would feel useless to get cosy with him only to have him leave for the tour.”

“Just tell him.” Vixen encouraged her. “He will surely work with you on a compromise.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Are you okay?” Lace checked in on Vixen.

“Yup. Just a sudden jealousy rush.”

Lace frowned. “He would never. Don’t worry about that.” Lace cocked her head to the side. “He worships the ground you step on.”

“Girls throw thems—”

“He throws himself at you.” Lace remarked. “Plus he loves you. You love him. That’s all that matters. He gave you the passcode to his house, basically made you move in, what else do you need? I bet he’d gladly handcuff himself to you if you asked kindly enough.” Lace joked.

“Scratch that ‘kindly enough’. He’d cuff himself to you without you even asking.” Princess remarked.

“Can we move back to the BDSM introductory lessons?” Vixen asked, shaking her head, but with a tiny smile on her face.

Lace saw that was a good sign. Princess smiled beside her. “Okay, I’ll go with my request. I know I told you I wanted to get to know more of impact play and if we could focus on that...”

“Yes, I get where you’re headed. Let’s get it. But we’ll need a clean table for this.” Lace explained.

“Let’s do this.” Princess stood up from the table, beginning to clean up everything. It took the girls only a couple minutes to get rid of dirty dishes, empty boxes, the glasses and the soju. Even the fruit basket the guests had bought was moved on the kitchen counter.

“Do you have any sanitizer, perhaps?” Lace asked.

“Isn’t it better if we move to the sofa?” Suggested Vixen. “Use the coffee table?”

Princess shrugged. “Same to me.”

Lace nodded convincedly. “Let’s prep the coffee table. Sorry for the main table.”

Princess shrugged. “Needed to clean it anyways.”

A few minutes later the girls were all sitting around the coffee table, Lace’s bag placed at her side while Vixen occupied her other side, Princess sitting in front of them.

“Let’s do an impact play in depth analysis. What you need is one — a dom, two — a sub, three — optional, — supplies.” Lace listed. “Let’s go a bit at a time. First, the dom. A dom must be sober, lucid. No alcohol, drugs, and most importantly, no impulsive, instinctual emotions. If you’re furious, don’t go there. Violent emotions can cloud your judgement. Don’t let those lead you. Of course you might be angry or aroused, but that must not take the lead. If your anger makes you want to give them fifty spanks, but normally your sub can take twenty, you can negotiate maybe twenty-five. Be judicious, never hungry.”

“Good.” Said Princess, focusing on every single one of Lace’s words.

“Once you’re sure you’re in a coherent, calm mindset, you should negotiate with your sub. Remember: safe, sane, consensual. Safe, in this case, involves that your supplies are clean and cannot hurt your sub, both in terms of cleanliness and state of use. Check for loose threads, scratches on leather that could possibly host bacteria or dirt, splinters in case of wooden devices, porous surfaces. We’ll talk about this more accurately in the supplies section. Sane means to check your mindset and your sub’s mindset. Same rules as before: no alcohol, drugs, violent emotions.”

Vixen made eye contact with Lace, silently requesting permission to speak. “Small note on that, may I?”

Lace nodded.

“Your sub might come to you while being emotionally unstable. They might need you for comfort or atonement. Make sure to heal that emotionally before dealing with it sexually. It means to discuss what caused the upset state of mind in order to identify the real entity of the problem, correct the perception of it and negotiate the atonement.”

“Excellent point.” Replied Lace.

Vixen smiled cutely.

“Can I have an example?” Asked Princess with a frown.

“Of course. Let’s say I fucked up at work, I booked the wrong artwork and the artwork they wanted is no longer available. I manage to find an alternative but I somehow feel like I let down my client. I go home and I am scolding myself because I didn’t deliver what was asked of me. My dom may spot my disappointment or may recognise self-punishment. Also, I might explicitly tell my dom I am not feeling well due to a sense of guilt. This leads to my dom asking me why I am upset or why I am punishing myself. I — along other perfectionists like Jimin — tend to overestimate my mistakes, making them a bigger deal than what they actually are. My dom corrects my perspective through objective analysis, underlines my successful abilities in dealing with the issue and suggests potential improvements on those things I didn’t manage to solve. Perfectionists have a strict inner judge that scolds them and punishes them. Therefore their psych is divided into victim and punisher. This fracture obviously causes discomfort. The dom’s goal is to heal this fracture, especially since the perfectionist’s “punisher” side — so to say — is very strict and usually overestimates the damage and subsequently overestimates the punishment. After correcting the perception of the mistake, the dom gives an appropriate price for atonement.”

“So the goal is to stop the guilt trip mechanism?” Princess asked.

“Yes.” Vixen confirmed. “But this is just one kind of spanking. There are other cases. It can be educational or simply sexual. Educational is when the dom corrects the sub’s behaviour because they violated a rule or an order. In that case it’s mostly dom-initiated—”

“Unless the sub willingly misbehaved to earn a punishment.” Lace added.

“That sounds Jimin.” Princess commented, rubbing her forehead.

Vixen smiled widely.

“That’s not funny, you brat!” Lace scolded her.

“When you find your sub willingly misbehaving, you should talk to them very clearly. Usually they do it to attract attention. Ignoring them might hurt them or bring them to further misbehaviour, which can turn dangerous. I normally recommend conversation.” Lace explained. “Pay attention to them and ask why they broke the rule, what they were trying to get out of it. You can give them the punishment they were asking for — for example if your sub disobeyed because it earns them spanks and they like spanks, you can either give them spanks or punish them with something that they really don’t like, for example edging.”

Princess nodded. “That’s interesting, thank you.”

“Any remark, Vixen?”

She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about sexual spanks?” Princess questioned.

“Those can be incorporated into foreplay. Some people are simply aroused by pain.” Vixen shrugged. “It puts the sub into a vulnerable position, and it underlines a power imbalance. It makes the sub feel smaller, powerless — or almost so — and sometimes humiliated.” Vixen explained.

“Exactly. I would add that it stimulates the circulation of blood to the pelvis region, which means that skin is more sensitive, arousal increases and the whole perception intensifies. It builds trust and sometimes, according to personal history of each sub, it can send them back to childhood memories, mimicking the power imbalance between child and adult who disciplined them. It has strong disciplinary and educational value, back to the punishment scene.”

“Oh, about punishment!” Vixen exclaimed. “We forgot the most important part of it all. But it refers to all sorts of spanking, to be true. Negotiation. Once you have identified the fault, tell your sub how many hits there will be, how you will deliver them and with which instrument, which position they will have to assume. Repeat safewords. Make sure that they agree fully to every detail of the spanking. If they do not agree to some parts, ask to find a compromise, a middle ground between your and their needs. Once you have the green light, you can talk your sub through the whole experience as the scene actually develops. Once you are done with the scene, say a code phrase that means that the scene has finished.”

“Okay, me and Jimin did this stuff our first time trying this.” Princess confirmed.

“Wonderful. Was it a positive experience? Did you have any uncertainties, questions?”

“It was a very positive experience, both in mine and his opinion. We talked it out the morning after, since I preferred to have some time to elaborate my personal feelings about the scene”

“That’s okay. As a dom you can experience mixed feelings, especially after a first scene, with activities that are usually misjudged by society”. Lace explained, gently patting Princess’ hand on top of the table.

“I think that Jimin’s positive reaction and guidance helped me feeling positive about the whole scene. He was truly supportive through all of it.” Princess smiled softly.

“That’s a good partner. Both for life and for play”. Lace smiled herself, glad that Princess’ first experience went well.

“There were very deep emotions of care and support and love during the whole scene. A kind of affection and vulnerability I had never experienced with anyone else. I hope I can go there again with him, but next time I want to be more reliable and secure and experienced. I thought that a general introduction, especially about supplies, could help me, since Jimin was interested in that.”

“Okay, let’s just finish the general intro. We were saying safe, sane and consensual. Safe means toys, safewords and aftercare supplies. Sane means both parties know what they’re doing, the dom is aware of the sub’s mental space. Consensual means negotiation about number of blows, technique, position and eventually toys. Make sure that your sub always knows about the motive of the spanking. The natural response, especially to pain, is ‘why’. Make sure they know. Eventually, remind them. Once more remind them of safewords and the final sentence.”

“Do not ever stop unless they safeword.” Vixen said. “If they repeatedly tell you to stop, remind them they have their safewords if they want to. As a sub I’ve said both ‘stop’ and ‘why’ at least a hundred time during a spanking. ‘Stop’ and similar are pretty recurrent. Just say ‘You know your safeword, love’. If they really need them, they will use them, trust me. Just remind them all the time. You could maybe need to slow down, make sure that they aren’t panicking and they do actually remember their words.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Lace confirmed before turning to Vixen. “Have you been studying?” She joked.

“I’ve been reading lately.” Vixen confirmed, with a very happy smile on her face.

Lace mirrored her expression. She knew Vixen had been pushed into quitting BDSM activities by her ex boyfriend. Knowing that she was finally back to something she liked, something she was comfortable with made her happy. “I’m glad you’re back on track, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” Vixen closed the small exchange with Lace.

“Once a scene is closed, your sub might have different responses. They might ask to be left alone. In that case, make sure that healing supplies are ready for their self care. Remind them to check for abrasions. If the skin is damaged on a surface level — that means it is not only bruised, but also broken — you will need disinfectant and probably band aids.” Lace explained.

“But that happens rarely, right?” Vixen asked.

“With average spanking, that is quite rare. Normally you need specific instruments specifically meant to cause abrasions.”

“Like canes and spiked toys?”

“Yes, but not only those. I’ve seen pretty heavy damage caused by an apparently regular flogger.” Lace commented, shuddering at the memory.

Vixen blinked, a bit shocked. “Okay, back to aftercare.”

“Yeah,” said Princess, exhaling and looking away.

“So, unless your sub wants you to leave, you stay around. Provide for them. Rub lotion first. Some subs store specific lotion for this kind of stuff. To ease the burn, the sting, or lessen the bruises.”

Vixen interrupted. “I must say, most of us like the bruises and the reminder-sting, so they don’t really do much about it. Still, it depends on how far you’ve gone and how the sub feels. Usually, my favourites are a cold cloth, lotion and if I went particularly far maybe a painkiller. Normally herbal lotion and muscle relaxant are an excellent solution. They’re softer and safer, especially since you never know how a sub might react to medicines. As usual, make sure that whatever you use on them is safe. Let them prepare their usual medication. Make sure you have plenty of time to ascertain that they are emotionally stable. Do not leave them alone unless they request so, and tendentially it is good etiquette to stay in proximity, in case they change their mind.”

“Thank you so much for all the head ups.” Princess said, true gratitude shining all over her face. “I feel more comfortable knowing that we followed those lines during the first time too. It’s not something absurd. Youjust really need to use your common sense.”

Vixen nodded. “Being smart sure helps, but it’s not everything. You can only truly learn it by making it a routine.”

“You mean practice?” Princess questioned.

Lace nodded. “Yes. Once you actually start practicing, you’ll immediately find out your forte and potential weaknesses. Be comfortable with those: you can ask us or look it up on the guide, or on BDSM blogs. I can send you reliable sources, if need be. I would say you can reach out to my dungeon, it is a safe and discreet environment, but I fully understand your position, and I get that you might prefer to have a private approach to this. You can eventually book personal appointments with an expert. Those normally include non-disclosure agreements and Jimin could be protected from the public eye, as far as it can go.” Lace explained. “We have had many, many clients who have requested so. It would be perfectly normal.”

Princess thought about it and nodded. “I’ll discuss it with Jimin.”

“Perfect. As you can see the key to this is communication.”

“Indeed.” Confirmed Princess.

“Now, let’s get down to the actual business.” Lace opened the bag but left all the contents inside. “Impact play can happen on different parts of the body. Vixen?” Lace called.

Vixen stood up gingerly.

“Tie your hair, doll.” Lace reminded her.

The woman fished a ribbon from her pocket and did a soft ponytail.

“Good. I’ll show you.” Lace fished out a long, silky bag from her weekender; untying the ribbon, she pushed her hand in and extracted a long stick. A cane, Princess corrected herself.

Lace didn’t pay much attention. Its purpose was that of a pointing stick at that moment. “Number one, the derrière.” Vixen turned and Lace let the wooden instrument hover over the girl’s ass. “You know what to do to hit here?”

“Find the tailbone and place your non-dominant hand over it to protect it. Alternate sides, rub between a spank and another. Hit the lower region, far from the nerves up high. Where the flesh swells, that’s where I can hit. Also the back of the thighs.”

“Excellent. That’s all.” Lace congratulated. “Other spots are the back of the legs, more precisely the back of the knees and the calves. However, knees are delicate, so you can only deliver delicate blows with a restricted selection of toys. I would not recommend it. The back of the calves also offer a limited selection of toys, but it is slightly safer to go there. Still, the surface is limited and the knees and ankles are close. The risk of missing your target is high. Since you’re a beginner I would not go there.”

Princess nodded. “What kind of toys can I use?”

“We’ll cover that later. For now let’s just run through anatomy.” Lace answered calmly. “Are you good, Vixen?”

“Yup.” The other replied.

“Perfect. Turn to your side profile.” Lace asked and Vixen quickly provided.

Lace pressed the cane in a line connecting the peaks of each of Vixen’s glutes. “From here—” she moved all the way down to her mid thighs “— to here it’s good. The peak to the midthigh.”

“Great. Got it.” Princess replied. “There are other places? Like…?”

“Would you like to talk?” Lace asked Vixen. “You're the expert.”

“May I?” She asked.

“Of course, sweetie. You’re the expert in this.”

Princess raised an eyebrow at the comment, but still she stayed focused. To say she was intrigued was a big understatement.

Vixen’s sweet voice began speaking. “Other than the backside, as we’ve just mentioned, there are other spots that can be involved in impact play. While the back of the thighs and the butt can stand harsher beatings with almost all toys intended for impact play, other areas are more sensitive, more delicate or consist in a smaller expanse of skin, therefore they shall be treated differently. Both the palms and the back of the hands, just like the soles of the feet can be involved, especially when matched with instruments with a smaller surface of beating, like a slapper, a riding crop and a cane — for example. They shall be treated lightly, since they have lots of nerve endings, bones and tendons exposed.”

“What’s a leather strap?” Princess asked.

Lace lifted a finger as a sign to wait, before digging her other hand in her bag and extracting a small device, of maybe twentyish centimetres of length and five or six of width; she placed it on the table to let Princess observe it. “Handle and slappers.” She pointed. “Very noisy, actually pretty innocuous. The leather bits slap against each other and create a single impact that sounds like a double.”

“It sounds scary, though.” Vixen noted. It always made her blood curl in her veins, the heavy smack turning into a torturous feel as the hit didn’t match the noise. Fear worked, but the sensation didn’t. It was not something she liked, usually.

Lace nodded. “I haven’t used it much. Usually people like the cane on the back of the hands. Because of old school punishments.” Lace explained.

“Right. Thanks.” Princess nodded.

Vixen waited for a sign before moving on. Once she had both women’s attention, she proceeded. ”Thighs are generally all good, if they’re fleshy and plump enough. Make sure that you don’t go too hard when hitting close to private parts. While a vulva can handle a fair bit, the penis is generally more delicate in the structure. Thighs can handle all toys, just like the ass. Paddles, slappers, straps, riding crops, whips and canes. For private parts I recommend the riding crop.” Vixen smiled politely.

Princess interrupted. “The strap is that kind of… like?” She gestured a long and thin rectangle with her hands, looking for words.

“It looks like a belt bent in two, with a handle. Maybe I have it…” She rummaged in her bag. “No. Sorry. I think I left it at home.”

Princess waved her hands. “Don’t worry, that’s okay, I think I visualised it pretty well.” She smiled. “There’s more?” Princess said, marvelled as Vixen began talking again.

“Well, yes. Oh, first a small warning — before I forget. You must absolutely stay away from the belly and the stomach. Same for the lower back.” Vixen showed the various spots on her body with precise gestures of her hands. “Too many vulnerable organs left unprotected there.” She took a small pause and then moved on.

“Some people can handle hits on their shoulders and upper back, where the internal organs are protected by the ribcage and other bone structures; however I would talk with a professional about that kind of scene since you need to flawlessly master advanced equipment — people tendentially use whips and similar, or the strap.” Vixen stopped for a second, looking at Lace as if asking whether she had anything more to ask. Lace shook her head, inviting the other woman to proceed.

“Now, about delicate parts: some people like being slapped in the face, but then again, that must be clearly stated in the negotiations. I’d say you should only use hands, but maybe I’m projecting.”

“In four years, I’ve only used and seen other use hands. Also, riding crops, but usually that’s just to direct head movements or to pat the face, rather than slapping it.”

Vixen nodded. “Great. About interesting stuff, nipples can be gently stimulated with small, very delicate pats. Riding crops are excellent for this use. Also slappers. Maybe canes in some cases.” — Lace did a so-and-so motion with her head. Vixen continued, — “Some people can go very hard on nipples and technically — just like with the butt — women who have bigger breasts can stand more intense stimulation”.

“Oh, that yes. You can use, as usual, riding crops, but also paddles, straps and whips — if you’re experienced.” Lace added.

Princess nodded with an interested expression. She could mention that to Jimin. Imagining him with a riding crop, standing at the side of the bed, rubbing the leather bit against her nipples before whipping them harshly had her losing focus for a second, taking in a big breath and biting her lip.

Vixen grinned. She could practically read the other woman’s thoughts. “For women with smaller breasts and men, I would say to stay on the more gentle side for the first few sessions and eventually — once you know each other and once you know your sub’s pain threshold — you can get more heavy-handed, so to say. As I said before female private parts can handle pretty harsh whippings, especially since arousal tends to make the labia plumper and therefore protect the skin better. Still, you should start slow and work your way up. Male crotch area is a lot more delicate, however the shaft can take a medium-intense whipping. I recommend riding crops and small leather straps.”

Lace raised her eyebrows at Vixen with a proud grin. “Nothing to add. This should be all.”

“Wow.” Princess was a bit excited. If Jimin had looked that good with a few spanks, she could only imagine what he would do once she got more experienced and learned what actually drove him crazy.

“That’s a lot of stuff, I know.” Lace reassured her.

“I’m actually excited. Like, it sounds very interesting. There’s a lot of trust and knowing each other. I really like that. I think it brings the partners very close.”

Vixen nodded. “It does.”

Princess bit her lip. “I don’t want to pry but… Do you do all of that?” She looked at Vixen with a slight blush.

The woman giggled. “Not anymore, no.” She took a meditative pause, like she was reminiscing something. It felt strange that a girl so young could feel so old every now and then. That dark cloud that obscured Vixen’s doll-like traits disappeared, leaving only a fond grin in tow. “Now I do the bits I like best.” She grinned.

Lace looked at her with a bit of worry before smiling again.

“Before we actually start with tools I need to make sure that you know all you need about aftercare and drops.” Lace said seriously.

“Yes, please.” Princess said. “May I recap what we said about aftercare?”

“Yes, sure.” Lace invited her.

“Prepare the stuff before. Check for abrasions: if there are, then disinfectant and band aids. Next cold cloth, lotion and eventually painskiller. Use medicines that my sub takes regularly. Make sure that they’re okay emotionally. If they want me to leave, I do, but I stay close.”

“Amazing. Quick learner.” Lace cheered.

“Those were also in the book.” Princess commented, diminishing her feat. “Plus I did it already. Sort of.”

“I’ve seen people take weeks to put all of that together. You did a good job, stop doubting yourself.” Lace corrected her. God, these two insecure creatures would be the death of her.

“Aftercare is not only physical, but mostly emotional. If your sub wants you close, cuddle them. Jimin looks like the type to want cuddles and reassurance afterwards. Make sure you give plenty. Would you like to explain the drop Vixen?”

“Yes, of course.” Vixen intervened before addressing Princess. “I always like to talk about this subject because it can affect anyone, without any need to get involved in BDSM. ًWhen experiencing an orgasm, our bodies produce an incredible quantity of hormones that make us literally ecstatic. What happens sometimes, especially after long or intense scenes is that our bodies get high on these hormones, experiencing a sense of withdrawal once the rush is over. Such withdrawal, so to say, can cause pretty intense sadness that can lead to numbness, indifference, or even hate and depressive or aggressive behaviours. A good way to slow down this sadness is providing the body with other hormones that usually calm us and relax us. Cuddles and sugars usually are a good way to help the body produce oxytocin — commonly named ‘the hormone of happiness’. It’s the same hormone that spikes when mothers are breastfeeding their babies.” Vixen smiled fondly.

“This is incredible.” Princess said, completely amused. “So cuddles heal both the sub and the dom, I assume.”

“I think so, yes. Usually I’m the cuddler while Joon is the cuddlee during aftercare. Both subs and doms can experience the drop since both suffer the shift in hormones. It’s really about mutual care. Usually though, there are people who suffer more.” Vixen commented.

Lace spoke shyly. “Once I went so hard on a sub that I felt awful with myself after the scene was done.” Lace said. The silence felt heavy, like in some part of her mind Lace was still seeing that scene. “Usually the dom is expected to give the sub water, sweets and a cozy blanket — water for the body fluids, sweets for rebalancing the sugars after an intense effort and the blanket for emotional safety. I remember that one time the sub used the aftercare kit on me. It took me almost an hour to get back on a neutral state of mind.” It was Lace’s turn to be comforted. As Vixen rubbed her friend’s back, Princess spoke.

“So I might experience guilt and sadness afterwards and that’s normal?”

As Lace was still thinking, Vixen spoke up. “It happens, though usually, if your partner reassures you and supports you properly, you should be able to deal with it together with quite some ease. I myself have shouted slurs at my dom in the past during punishment, but that is because pain or anger make you do that. I may have sent him into a drop once, and since that time I always make sure that I praise and cuddle my dom once the scene is over. It’s important that you remind yourself that what is said during an intense scene is due to the sub’s sensations in that moment, therefore you shouldn’t give it much importance. Still, once you have your post-session chat you have every right to say ‘that hurt me, please don’t do that again’. It’s etiquette.” Vixen said with a serious note.

Princess nodded. “So cuddles, water, sweets and a good comfort blanket.”

“Normally, yes.” Vixen replied. “Sometimes shower or bath together, wash your partner clean or have them wash you. For some people physical cleanliness is also spiritual cleanliness. It eases the mind from whatever ‘dirty thing’ you’ve done during the scene. The rest is really what you would normally do during self-care, but with your sub. Facemask? Junk food? Lotion? Massage? Tea? Whatever you like as long as you do it with affection.”

Princess nodded. “This is really helpful. I just need to do anything that Jimin likes, and do it with him.”

“Yes, if he wants you close — which I assume he does, knowing the two of you.” Vixen smiled.

Lace added her own contribution. “If possible, remember to schedule a post-session chat. Whenever it feels comfortable. Normally you wait until all parties have fully recovered before saying ‘let’s talk about it together’, but some subs are already okay talking about it during aftercare. Just make sure that you know how your sub felt about the stuff that you did together, and that you tell them how you felt yourself. This is not one-sided. Power imbalance is limited to the scene: once you’re done, You’re equal again — that’s why a final sentence is necessary. It breaks the power imbalance and repristinates equality. All parties are equally entitled to support and communication.” Lace said, making sure that Princess grasped the concept. That’s where most couples went wrong: communicating.

“Thank you girls.” Princess said gently. “Thank you for the insights, and for your personal experiences.”

“You’re welcome.” Lace said heartily before grinning. “Now, let’s discuss supplies.”

Vixen cheered with a small ‘yes’ at which Lace replied murmuring ‘painslut’, chuckling playfully.

“Let’s start with these.” Lace showed her hands, letting the sleeves of her shirt fall a little, exposing her wrists. “These are your main instruments.” She showed the palms, then the backs. “You can use them everywhere. You can use your whole palm, flat, for a sting and cupped for a thud.”

“What’s that?” Princess asked.

“Vixen.” Lace called.

“A sting is when it prickles and bites, a thud is when it reverberates and goes deeper. You go with a quick, fleeting swat when you go for a sting—the palm must be flat and there must be a bit of wrist game. To deliver a thud, you should let your hand cup slightly and hit hard, keeping your hand pressed where you hit. It’s a matter of angle and speed.” Vixen replied readily, as if she were being asked what is two and two.

Princess grinned and nodded. “I see. Jimin mentioned something about it, but I don’t remember clearly. Which one hurts the most?” Princess asked Vixen.

“Well, it depends. It’s a different kind of pain and it depends on one’s sensitivity. Personally I prefer thuds, because usually it’s the muscle taking most of the impact, in case of traditional, over-the-knee butt spankings. Stings make my eyes water a little, because it hits a smaller area of skin with more pressure. But it really depends on what your sub feels.”

“It is all in the way it is delivered.” Lace stated.

Vixen bit her lip, nodding, and moved on.

“Hands can be also used to slap the face, as we said,— that should be especially clarified during negotiation — but also nipples and genitalia. Also, thighs, calves, hands and feet — though in some cases they might be too mild. Always remember that it is good manners to try the toys on yourself first, especially if it’s a toy you’ve never used before. Get familiar with its weight and density and grip, so you know how it affects you before affecting your sub. Make sure to start slow and eventually intensify, always asking your sub if they’re okay in the first place. Be careful with your sub’s pain threshold: since you don’t have direct perception of how much you’re hurting them, try to increase force and pattern a bit at a time.” Lace explained.

Princess felt sure about the directions. Common sense and the guide told her the same things, which reassured her about the fact that she would remember all the complicated passages. Sure, it would be easier to have an actual practical exercise.

But for now she would make do.

“You ready for the next?”

“Yes.” Vixen replied.

Lace tutted. “The question was not meant for you, menace.” She said, reprimanding a grinning Vixen.

Princess cackled. “Sure.”

Lace picked up another object from her bag. “Here we have a paddle. It can have different shapes and textures. Some contain small indentations, or even spikes. The main features are the handle.” She showed the part. “And a flat surface, used to hit the sub. In terms of tenacity and resistance, mine has a hardwood interior covered in a leather exterior. Oh, and it’s branded.” She showed a red leather heart sewn onto the black leather cover. “It leaves a mark.” Lace smiled cutely. “Best used on wide, fleshy surfaces. Questions?”

Princess shook her head. “Oh, yeah. How much is it?”

Lace twisted the object in her hands. “A good one is around thirty five thousand won or so. If you want something that lasts and that is actually covered in true leather, the price might be higher. I could recommend a shop that sells excellent gear.”

“Thank you. Also, you said it comes in different shapes.”

“Yes. A dom in my dungeon has a pretty extravagant one in a cherry shape.”

“With a double sting?” Vixen asks, eyes almost glittering.

“Yup.”

“Amazing. I had spotted it once but I never bought it. Maybe I’ll have it commissioned.” She mused.

“Joon would?” Lace asked, eyebrows raised.

Vixen shrugged. “I just need to be good — or bad — enough.”

“See, darling, this is a brat.” Lace addressed Princess, pointing at the other girl in the room. “Their anatomy is five percent manners, five percent playfulness and ninety percent utterly smart evil.”

Vixen smiled before cocking her head to the side prettily. “Yes, that’s me.”

Princess bit her lip and smiled. Vixen was a lot more interesting than she thought. All those cute manners and polished looks could not entirely shade the dark magnetism of her eyes. She would pay good money to see what ruckus she could cause with Namjoon in the bedroom. And it would be even more interesting to see what poised, calm Lace could do to teach her how to behave.

Lace put her paddle down before fishing something else from inside her bag. “For tonight let’s cover only the basics. I’ll keep more lowkey devices for another time. Or maybe I could show you what I have and you ask me about what looks interesting to you.”

Princess nodded. “That would be lovely. Plus I’m sure you’ll have to get back to Joon since he’ll want to see you before they leave tomorrow.” Princess asked Vixen.

“I don’t know if I’ll see him— oh, that one looks lovely!” She said, looking at a riding crop from Lace’s collection and distracting herself with it. “Yeah, I told him he should stay at the dorms and rest. His week has been hectic with all the briefings for the press conferences and tv shows.” Vixen explained as she picked up the crop, studying the red, heart-shaped bit.

“Yeah, I figure. Jimin and I are meeting for an early breakfast tomorrow, before they leave.” Princess explained.

Vixen’s fleeting gaze moved away. She seemed visibly unsettled. Still, her mood changed once more as she collected Lace’s paddle from the coffee table, the other woman not even noticing one of her devices had attracted Vixen’s attention.

Vixen rolled it in her palm a couple times, shifting it to feel the weight distribution and the texture.

Princess looked at how she studied the object, carefully taking in every detail. Vixen’s perfectionism showed in that exact moment, in the undisturbed, slow way she felt every ridge and stitch with her fingers. If she could think of an adjective it was ‘thorough’, in the first place. ‘Sensual’ in the second.

Raising an eyebrow and biting her lip, Vixen opened her free hand, lifted the paddle and delivered a heavy thwack.

A shiver ran down Princess’s spine. She could almost feel how Jimin would moan after a smack like that.

Lace turned around, looking at Vixen. “Like it?”

Vixen simply nodded with a wicked smile. “Do you know what wood it is?”

“Not sure, possibly birch or cherry tree. Soft wood but very elastic.” Lace sat upright as she was done taking out all of her collection.

“And the leather is splinter-proof.” Vixen commented.

Lace hummed in confirmation. “See anything interesting, Princess?”

Princess creased her brow. “What about the riding crop?”

Vixen smiled mischievously as Lace wrapped her palm around the handle, lifting the object. “Here. This is a personal riding crop. It has been commissioned specifically for me. It’s my favourite and somehow my brand.” She smiled fondly as she studied it. “However, I would say one should never grow fond of a vulnerable thing such as a riding crop. They break fairly easily. Anyway — the general traits of a riding crop are the shaft, the handle and the tip. In terms of length, I normally recommend minimum sixty centimeters, to increase flexibility and impact strength. The shaft should be elastic, but not too much or it loses impact strength and a submissive usually doesn’t want the whoosh without the smash.”

Vixen giggled at her side.

“What is that?” Princess asked, frowning.

Opening her palm, Lace calculated the distance and whipped the leather bit hard against the soft flesh at the base of the thumb. Princess clearly recognised the sound of air whistling before she hit her skin with a thin clap. “That’s what I meant.”

Princess nodded with eager eyes, keeping an amused silence.

“Fiberglass is a good material for beginners. If you’re buying one in person — which I recommend for the first time — make sure that it can make a forty-five degree angle when you bend the tip towards the handle. A forty to fifty degrees with a fair amount of resistance means it’s flexible enough, just make sure that it’s not too close to the breaking point. The handle is normally made of leather or very good rubber to improve the grip. Some cheap riding crops — also, the ones not intended for BDSM purposes — come with a strap to slip your wrist into. I recommend you don’t use the strap or that you remove it completely because first, you shouldn’t need it and second, you should avoid everything that keeps you from interrupting the scene and comforting your sub as quickly as possible. Sometimes even a couple seconds can be very important when it comes to subdrop. Remember this at all time, in all scenes. Remove everything that could keep you from helping your sub.”

“Okay. But if my riding crop falls?”

Lace smiled darkly. “Trust me dear, you’ll hold on to that as if it were the sceptre of England.” Princess laughed. “And if it falls, it’s usually a sign of poor mastering of your tools. Train yourself. You can use a dense pillow to learn the variety of strokes that a crop can deliver. It can be used for sensation play, simply rubbing your sub’s skin, caressing it, spending some time to arouse them before the whipping starts—”

Vixen purred at that.

Princess thought of Jimin biting his plump lips, eyelids fluttering at the gentle touch of the leather tickling his body.

“Are you with me?” Lace called for Princess’ attention, an amused grin on her face. Lace almost wanted to congratulate her for staying focused for so long.

“Yeah, just — thinking.”

Lace exhaled and wore a grin on her face. “I get that. Let me just finish this and we can take a pause. The tip is the important part of the crop. Mine has a fancy, heart-shaped tip, however, the best standard ones have triangular or rectangular tips that are a couple fingers wide on the very tip and restrict around the head of the stick.”

“Sounds nice.” Princess said.

“It is.” Vixen mused. “As Lace said, riding crops aren’t excessively difficult to use, if one has the patience to learn the basics and take some time to experiment. They can offer plenty of freedom to the dom in terms of use since they can be incredibly harsh, but also extremely light and gentle. You can use them on most spanking areas: breasts and nipples, feet, thighs, ass, shoulders and genitals, both male and female. Also the face, if you’re being light-handed enough.”

“Jesus, you’re wicked.” Lace snickered.

Vixen shrugged. “Says you.”

Princess looked at the exchange quite amused. “Okay. I think I got it. Oh, isn’t that a flogger?”

“Yes, it is. But that is for your sophomore lessons. For now, let’s stick to the beginner deals.” Lace said, slowing down Princess’ enthusiasm.

“Oh.” The other answered, taken aback.

“The bigger the toy, the more difficult it is to use it. Floggers, also called multi-tailed whips, are unpredictable because the whips are really flexible, usually made of leather, and very light. You must have excellent wrist flexibility and great spatial awareness. Once you can use your crop with your eyes closed, then you can consider learning the basics of flogging.”

“Okay. I assume canes and that fancy thing over there are off-limit too.” Princess noticed.

“Isn’t that a cat-o-nine-tales?” Vixen said, wide eyed. “It’s been years since I last saw one. Since my training.” Vixen shivered. “He had silver studs on the tips.”

“Did he ever use it on you?” Lace asked, very serious.

“Once. I didn’t speak to him for a week afterwards.” Vixen said, gaze empty. “I’ve never seen one like that in my life, though. Are those flowers?”

“Yes.They have a silver bead in the middle with some petals around it. The effect is very unusual, or so I’ve been told.” Lace answered with a chuckle. “It was a gift from one of my students. Lovely girl. Kinkier than hell.” Lace smiled and took the toy. “See. Those are meant to hurt. Mark or scar even, in some cases.” She showed the appendage to Princess.

“I don’t like that.” She replied with tiny hesitance.

“The cane is also a vicious one.” Lace suggested.

“The first time I safeworded was with a cane.” Vixen said with a meditative smile. “It hurts like hell. Normally I can take around forty to fifty spanks. I couldn’t handle ten with a cane.”

“I don’t think I like that either. My favourite so far are the paddle and the riding crop. I think Jimin likes the paddle, or at least the idea of it. The riding crop is… for personal reasons.”

“Excellent choice.” Lace grabbed a glass of water and drank, easing her mouth and throat after all the talking. “A riding crop can really gratify a dom at their first experience. You can study it, if you want to.” Lace encouraged Princess to hold the toy and look at it from up close.

Princess thanked her before lifting the crop from the table. “It’s very light.”

“Indeed. It’s a lot lighter than a paddle, that’s why it’s a personal favourite to most female doms. Plus it can be used to praise and to punish, making it a tool of great versatility.”

Princess studied the handle, with a thick leather band wrapped around the stick to grant a good grip. Lace, previously standing, bent down behind Princess. “The leather has been treated so to reduce any slipping.” She corrected Princess’ grip around the handle, placing her hand wrapped tight around it and fixing her thumb. “Like this.” Next, she placed the tip on the flat of the opposite hand. “Always make sure that there are no loose stitches here. Make sure that the spot where the tip meets the stick isn’t rough or hard or juts out in a way that could cut the skin.” She fingered the spot, tracing it. “Also remember to check the flexibility, see?” Lace made Princess’ fingers wrap around that spot, making her push it towards the butt of the handle. The sensation was extremely elastic, with a bit of give still, but far more resistance. “That is good elasticity for a versatile crop. Try it on your forearm.” She suggested, pushing Princess’ shirt upwards.

A bit hesitant, Princess lifted her dominant arm up. Lace corrected her stance, repositioning her elbow. “You only need to do a slight rotation of your forearm for now. Keep your elbow still and smack your forearm down, like you were arm wrestling but with more snap.”

Princess nodded, her eyes closing before she let her arm snap. First she heard the ‘whoosh’ of the stick cut through the air, and then the snapping sound, like a dry cracking.

“Good one. Did it hurt?”

Princess tutted. “Not too bad. The bite was pleasing.”

The sound awakened Vixen from her trance. She had been staring at the paddle for a few minutes, thinking.

“Try using it feather-light now. Like it was a make-up brush on your skin.” Lace placed the tip of the crop on Princess skin with the lightest pressure, the touch so soft that the tip didn’t even bend a little to accommodate the skin. It was simply lingering, grazing.

“I really like it. I think I’d love to own one.” Princess said enthusiastically. “Would you come with me if I go buy one?” She looked up to her friend.

“Yes, sure. You have my number, we can arrange someday this week, or whenever you like it.” Lace smiled genuinely. Her cheeks puffed up in round apples.

“I think you should check on Vixen.” She whispered.

The girl was being too quiet. It meant she was thinking. Overthinking, if Lace knew her friend well.

“Are you okay?” Lace moved towards Vixen, looking at her vacant stare, her skittish mood and the insecure nibbling on her lower lip.

“Yeah, I was just thinking...” Vixen replied, still unfocused from her surroundings. “I don’t know if Princess is okay with this. It’s her home, after all.”

“What is it?” Asked the other one, immediately alarmed.

“Would it be awkward if we tried a small simulation? Not a scene, just an exercise. For practice.” Vixen proposed. “If you’re all okay with it.”

Lace studied Vixen’s expression. “What about Namjoon?”

“I could ask him. I think he’s awake, I’ll text him. Ask him if it’s okay with him. This is nothing sexual. It’s just for learning purposes.” Vixen shrugged.

A part of Princess’ brain was already seeing it happen, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “If it’s not too much of a bother, I think it would be really helpful to me if you and Lace tried. I don’t think I want to do it myself, but I’d like to watch.” She admitted.

“Are you in the right mindset to do this, sweetie?” Lace asked. “You’ve been on mood swings the whole night. Are you sure?” Lace asked, seriously concerned.

“Yes, I’m sure. Trust me,” Vixen said, reassuring her friend with a kind smile. “I just need to ask Joon.”

Lace thought about it. Doing such a thing with Vixen of course could be extremely helpful to Princess, showing her how a scene worked, however Vixen’s mood swings suggested that she was looking for reassurance, that she was hoping someone would literally spank her negative thoughts out of her. She probably wanted Namjoon instead of Lace, but maybe this mechanism of simulation and education was what she needed to rein in her insecurities. Vixen was a smart woman, extremely aware of her emotions and the mechanisms to handle them. Lace decided. “Okay. Call him.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.” Vixen stood up and reached for her phone at the dining table. “Thank you”, she said to Lace before unlocking her phone and finding Namjoon’s number on her shortcuts.

“Put it on speaker.” Lace told her.

The three women waited expectantly as the ringing echoed through the small room — Lace with cold ice settling in her veins, Princess with ebullient anticipation and curiosity, Vixen with a certain emptiness in her gaze, her free hand toying with the small pendant laying between her collarbones while she rubbed the flat of her upper chest.

The ringing stopped, followed by a couple seconds of silence.

“Hello?”

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Part two here

#bts blog #the Girlfriends #introducing the girlfriends #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fic #Bts smut #bangtan smut #Introducing vixen #introducing princess #Introducing lace #namjoon x reader #namjoon x vixen #jimin x reader #Jimin x princess #taehyung x reader #taehyung x lace #bts fanfiction

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theobxhummingbird · 4 years

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SLIPPING NOTES. -JJ MAYBANK X READER

Summary: From calling her ugly, to not taking his eyes off; JJ Maybank couldn’t hold back his feelings for Y/N.

A/N: Here’s me and my JJ x reader imagines again. I hope you like this one and please request an imagine. Just click on ask annika and I’ll be more than thrilled to write it for you. 🥰 P.S: Look at those arms dude (sorry I had to 🤤🤤🤤)

It all started with a few words, from the boy she didn’t ever want to hear a word from. Or, at least never hear the words he said to her face. Y/N had never been insecure about her body. She dressed in simple clothes; simple being her style. Sometimes, when she had to go to a birthday party or a kegger; jewelry or bandanas were her touch up. Her hair was, what their friends stated, the most beautiful they’ve ever seen and she really took a good care of it. It was naturally pretty and she had no problem with it. And it all went perfectly fine, until that one boy, known for his chase-tailing girls around Outer Banks and his masters in what type is the hottest or prettiest, had the drunken idea of telling his long time friend that she’s ugly. Yeah...ugly.

From that day on, Y/N never went to keggers again, neither did she attend any public events that involved JJ. He was a handsome guy; blonde hair, blue eyes, tanned body; your known heartthrob. But, Y/N and her little crush on him never really got the same reaction and attention as much as he did.

Her friends hadn’t been hanging out with her lately and they really got concerned of why she preferred being home more, than at the Chateau or the Wreck. Sarah contacted her through texting the group chat her, Kie and Y/N have:

Sarah💅: Y/N love, are you alive in this world?

Kie🐬: Yeah Y/N, we haven’t seen you for weeks now. Are you okay?

Y/N🥰: I’m doing fine guys, don’t worry.

Sarah💅 :Yeah, but we do, when we haven’t seen our best friend for weeks. Can we come over, are you free?

Kie🐬: I need to show you the new clothes I bought earlier asap!!!

Y/N🥰: Of course you can come. I’m waiting for you.

Sarah💅: See you girlie😘

Kie🐬:💋

While she prepared some snacks and drinks for when Kie and Sarah come, Y/N listened to some music. She didn’t put the volume up too much, so she could hear the door. And when she did, the two girls came inside, getting suspicious at why their friend’s wearing baggy clothes in the middle of the summer, but they shrugged it, happy to see her after a long time.

-There’s a kegger tonight, and I’m definitely wearing one of these shirts. -said Kie, putting the stylish clothes she got in the bags.

-Who’s hosting the kegger?

-JJ and John B of course. JJ’s been looking forward to it for a whole week now. He said that there were new girls in town and he was going to get lucky or something. -said Sarah, rolling her eyes.

-Right. Well, have a great time.

-What do you mean?! You’re not coming?

-No, I am not coming.

-Y/N, you’ve been skipping these public gatherings for a long time now and we start to worry, what’s the problem? -Kie placed her elbows on the table.

-Nothing’s the problem----just----I got bored of keggers, that’s all.

-Come, please, we’re going to have so much fun. -pleased Sarah.

She quietly started to think and decide, if this is her night of finally getting a small revenge on JJ’s words: “You are ugly!”

-Okay, I’ll come. -she assured them and drank her water. Sarah and Kie high fived each other and enjoyed Y/N’s company, until they separated to go and get ready for tonight’s party. Y/N told them not to wait for her, because she’ll arrive alone, giving an excuse of helping her mother quickly, before attending the party.

She was stood in front of the mirror, observing her put together self. Thigh length, white jeans, a white cropped top and a purple and pink flannel with purple, short heels. Her body was now perfectly curved and her skin was clear from the constant care and sunbathing. Her hair smelled nice and it was wavy. Y/N was definitely ready for this party.

All eyes were on Kie and Sarah that night; everyone looking at their outfits, until they were no longer looking their way, rather now their mouths were split in shock and looking at the entrance. She walked to her two friends like a model and all the boys whistled her way to them. Sarah and Kie still couldn’t make out if it was Y/N or some other girl.

-Are you---Y/N or am I tripping? -said Sarah.

-It’s me. -said Y/N, trying her best not to run home and change into something she’d normally wear to a party.

-You look stunning and in its every meaning. -said Kie, spinning her around.

JJ’s eyes, trailed down her perfect body, getting a bit too lost at a girl he called ugly not too long ago. His skin was sprinkled with goosebumps and his heart rate was faster than ever. He hardly held back himself from not going to her. But when he heard Pope and John B, deciding to approach them, he couldn’t miss the chance.

-Hello, girls. -said John B, throwing an arm around Sarah; Pope doing the same.

-Hi. -Y/N said quickly.

-Dude, -started Pope, -how did you manage to change so quick?

-What do you mean? I just treated myself a new style.-she winked at the boy.

-It looks great though.

-Thank you Pope.

-You literally had the biggest change of your life, but it suits you well. I mean, you can see that, since all eyes are basically on you. -said John B, looking around him to see guys smirking their way.

-I feel uncomfortable. -said Y/N, slightly closing her flannel. JJ didn’t say a word; he was stunned to his very core and all he could do was just admire her.

-Jack! -said a guy from behind Y/N with a put out hand.

-Y/N, nice to meet you.

-Are you alone? -he got closer so Y/N could hear him better from the music.

-No, I’m with my friends.

-No, I mean, do you have a boyfriend with you?

-I don’t. My friends and I are a whole group. -she tried to point out how uninterested she was at the moment.

-Do you want me to accompany you?

And these moments really stressed her. She didn’t want him to accompany her, at all, and it was tying her stomach in knots.

-No, I’ll be fine on my own.

-On your own? A hot girl alone at a party. See that really doesn’t sound safe.

-Like I said, I’m not alone, my friends are here.

-Come on babe, we’ll have a lot of fun. -he started to come closer and closer, catching her wrist as Y/N tried to let go off him.

-Get off her man! -yelled someone from behind him. Y/N’s gaze turned to the blonde; his eyes were flickering in anger and it didn’t seem to safe at the moment. He was JJ and fights for him were a daily routine. -I said, get off her.

-What will you do if I don’t?

-I repeat, get off her. -JJ tried to stabilize his slightly drunk self.

-JJ...-Y/N tried to warn him.

-She’s alone dude, and I felt the need to accompany such a lady.

-Get-off-her!

-If it means fighting a grasshopper like you, then sorry my man, I won’t let go. -he now used his strength to pull Y/N away with him. JJ caught his shoulder, spinning him around and punching him right in the nose. Y/N jumped back, trying to stop JJ from fighting, but his eyes were too blinded with jealousy that punches didn’t stop.

-JJ! -Y/N pulled him by his biceps.

-Don’t hold me back, princess. -he yelled and Y/N was finally able to pull him away. Placing a hand on his chest to stabilize his breathing, she intertwined their hands and took him as far from the kegger as possible.

-JJ what the hell is wrong with you? -she said; her voice filled with worry. -Why did you do that? And what for?

-For you, Y/N, I did it for you. -he stated. -No one should treat a girl like that.

-I could’ve solved it myself and no one asked you for help.

-Yeah, I saw how you were solving it. But you know what? I should’ve left you go with him, since I see you dressed to impress, you know, leave you to him.

-Dressed to impress? JJ, I didn’t dress to impress. I for once dressed in something that’ll make me feel free and modern. Plus, I combined my clothes into my style but still appropriate for a kegger. And why am I giving you an explanation; you were the one to call me ugly.

-You’re---not---ugly. -his voice softened.

-Well according to you I am, Maybank. -she said, -I’m going home. It’s enough.

-Wait, why are you leaving when you literally didn’t even have a drink or something?

-I don’t drink JJ, sorry. Bye. -she turned her back and started to walk away from him. His whole face was covered in blood and he couldn’t feel his bruised stomach. JJ thought she would offer to take care of him, but it seemed she was too broken from his side.

Her arms were wrapped around her freezing body, as she walked a long way back home. The streets were bare, without any sign of a human form. She tried her best not to turn around the lights that beamed behind her, as a car slowly approached her way.

-Y/N, get in. -said her well-known voice.

-Why did you come after me?

-Because it’s night and you’re not walking home alone.

-Like you care, JJ.

-If I didn’t, would I be here.

He was right. JJ would’ve been at the kegger now, macking on a touron, totally clueless he has another girl in his mind while kissing her. He parked the car and got out, coming face to face with frozen Y/N. His blues stared straight into her eyes, softly glancing to her lips.

-What? -she said, after a long time of just looking at each other in the middle of the road.

-Nothing, I’m just admiring your beautiful face. -he confessed.

-Yeah, after I took a great care of it. Calling me ugly, stayed and will stay with me, Maybank, so sorry, I take this as just a big lie.

-No really, your face is beautiful and was beautiful. I just couldn’t say it so saying the opposite was easier.

-Yeah, yeah, okay I get it JJ. Never mind. -she brushed next to him and started to walk away.

-Now you’ll play hard to get? -he yelled after her.

-For who? For you? Hah, you’ll only see it in your dream, Maybank.

And surprisingly, he really did. When he and John B, returned to the Chateau, he dreamed about Y/N and how she played hard to get and he tried to win her heart back again. The best part though, was that in JJ’s dream, he finally kissed her.

He got out of his bed, hearing someone sing in the kitchen and it wasn’t John B; for else he would’ve recognized that bad singing ability. His feet slowly made their way to the kitchen, surprised to find Sarah and Y/N preparing breakfast. More surprised, she was wearing the same exact clothes like in his dream. Hope was born in his heart. And since she was now alone in the kitchen, just like in his dream, he had the only chance, of making it come reality. Without thinking twice, he spun her around and placed a deep kiss to her lip balm covered lips, getting the taste of it on his own. Y/N didn’t have time to react; she just took in the surprising moment. When they split apart, their faces red as JJ’s cheeks, Y/N avoided any eye contact.

-I’m madly in love with you. -he said and now her eyes were deeply fallen into his. Her mouth split in shock and JJ lifted her chin to close it.

-Wha-ho-why-uh...-she stuttered, rubbing her cheek.

-I should’ve said it a long time ago, but didn’t have the guts to. Guess my dream pushed me into doing it. Or at least, give me some support.

-Your dream? -she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

-Yes, I dreamed of kissing you, right here, in this kitchen. -he trapped her on the counter.

-Wow. -was the stupidest thing that came out of her mouth in the moment. JJ licked his lips, glancing once again at hers. Her shy and embarrassed self, placed quick kisses to both of JJ’s cheeks and jogged to the table to serve the breakfast. She sat down and stuffed her mouth with vegetables, so no one can ask her a question.

-So, guys, what do you want to do today? -JJ came right after her, approaching her chair. He placed his thumb on her back, stroking her bare place as she straightened her figure at his touch.

-We can take the HMS Pogue for a ride today, see if we catch anything? -offered John B.

-Perfect. -said JJ, sliding his finger to her waist, then moving the chair next to her and sitting down. She cleared her throat and continued with her breakfast.

The Pogues were now on the HMS Pogue, and everyone put sunscreen on. The boys were enjoying their beers while Sarah and Kie jumped in the water. Y/N was sunbathing, getting that extra vitamin D. JJ’s eyes couldn’t leave her view and all he wanted to do, was comfortably flirt with her in front of his friends. And he got the chance to, when everyone decided to get in the water. John B was first, followed by Pope. JJ let Y/N get closer to the edge, lifting her in his arms and jumping together in the water.

-JJ. -she rubbed her eyes, when she was on the surface. -Oh my.

Her eyes stung from the salty water and he swam over to blow at them. The others immediately got suspicious and decided to observe from afar.

-Sorry baby, didn’t mean to hurt you. -he caressed her cheek.

-It’s fine, I didn’t close my eyes myself anyways. -she let out a short, cute laugh.

-Yeah, because I didn’t give you time to think. -he winked at her and placed a kiss to her knuckles.

The others started spraying each other with water and Y/N seemed to somehow find herself trapped in a big fountain of water. JJ saw her and swam over. He engulfed her in a hug to protect her from the amount of waves the other created by diving, jumping, splashing.

-What’s this? -he stroke her red wrist.

-I don’t know, it’s the first time I’m seeing it.

-Did I do this? -he shot up his worried eyes.

-No, I don’t think so. It was Jack definitely.

He placed his wet lips to the place and started to kiss her wrist. -Give me the pain. I’ll take it so you don’t have to go through it.

She was stunned from him, not waiting for him to ever say those words. But he did and she started to slowly push aside her stubbornness.

-I love you. -she almost whispered while looking at JJ with love. His wide eyes shot up to her face now, getting that happy smirk on curved on his lips. She shook off her dazed feeling and looked everywhere except at him. He caught a grip of her hands and telling her that they’ll go underwater, she nodded in assurance. He slowly pulled her with him and attached his, to her lips when they were under.

Kie invited them to the Wreck, for a tasty lunch after their fun in the water. They were all sat around the table as it was filled with fries and burgers. JJ was holding Y/N’s hand the whole time, working with only one.

“You are basically, the only thing that keeps me entertained in this place.” -he slipped a note from under the table.

-I’m not even talking that much. -she unnoticeably whispered to him.

-Yeah, but you’re the cutest, ya know? -he winked...and her whole body roamed heat through her brain and finally her cheeks.

“Can we date?” -he slipped another one.

Y/N took the piece of tissue and wrote something, slipping it under the table. - “How could I say no to your handsome face. Of course we can.”

He didn’t plan to have a positive answer from her, rather waiting for her to be stubborn about everything and never forgive him for calling her ugly.

“I’m sorry I called you ugly. Because I didn’t mean it, I promise.”

Y/N send him a reassuring kissy face and it was enough for JJ to know she has forgiven him. They soon announced their relationship to the Pogues, JJ finally getting the chance of calling her his in front of everybody, even getting the chance to cuddle her in front of Jack. Y/N was happy and it was what mattered to him the most.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks imagines #obx #john b x sarah #pope x kie #john b routledge #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #pope hayward #jj x you

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martelvintsvent · 3 years

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"Not like other girls”

We talk a lot about toxic masculinity but here is one thing that sexism did to girls and women and that feminism failed to fix because the world will not let it be fixed. What I, for lack of a better word, will call “toxic femininity” or “toxic feminism” (TF), even though it’s not really what it is. I know the words are probably poorly chosen but it’s just my feeling about it, please don’t be mad at me for this. TF is being so afraid of hearing “yeah but that’s because you’re a girl” that you pretend to not like things that are typically considered feminine, like make up or pink or nail polish even though you like them TF is (un)cousciously refusing to be good at cooking or knitting or sewing because you feel like it’s a traditionnal girl thing and you don’t want to be a stereotype TF is doing your best to be calm as fuck during your period so that the answer to “why are you so mad? Are you on your period or what?” can never be “Yes” TF is feeling like you have to look down on girly women because they’re just “walking stereotypes” TF is doing whatever you can to go to work and struggle in a career even if you are a woman that actually wants to stay at home with your child or children, or take care of your partner and let them work TF is the “you are not forced to go into literature, girls can do science too!” ad that I saw on the school-given notebook when I was 11, as if my choice to go into literature later was somehow less valuable because it was the default choice for girls for a long time TF is the constant urge of being “better than a simple woman” out of fear that you are not being feminist enough by wanting typical woman stuff TF is feeling uncomfortable wanting a happy love story, a happy family, a pet and a house because it’s not “good enough” of a dream TF is the constant feeling of dragging other women down if you want simple things in your life and actually enjoy the things qualified as stereotypes TF is not wanting to express sadness or anger and sometimes even happiness because that’s a girl thing to be emotional TF is reconsidering your outfit because you’re afraid that other women will call you out for showing too much cleavage and “empowering the patriarchy by sexualizing yourself” And so many other things. I’m tired of this growing impression that to be an independant woman, you have to have no stereotypically feminine traits. I spend half of my teenage years actively trying to reject things because I didn’t want to be told “that’s because you’re a girl” and it still happens to me. i’m still scared when I do some nail art or cooking or sewing and talk about it that I’m gonna get “that’s girl stuff” as an answer. Same for the conflicts I’ve had sometimes when people would just tell me “yeah but she criticized you like that because that’s how girls fight”, like men can’t be hypocrites. I hear way too much about movies or other girls “you don’t need a man to be happy”. Yeah but what if they want to? Do you have to be a lesbian or aspec to be a feminist? It was a weird rant but society is so exhausting. We can’t win. Because feminism gave us more rights, but more and more women take up the label and twist it in a way that hurt girls as much as the system does. You can still fight for equality and want to fall in love. You can still fight for equality and like pink. You can still fight for equality and like short shorts, mini-skirts, cleavage, bikinis, high heels, nice hairstyles, cooking for your partner, taking care of your children or helping people taking care of theirs, stay at home, be bad at or hate science, like reading, like make up, want a traditionnal family in a nice house, sew, knit, be bad with cars, not like driving, not want a high paying job or long career. It’s your life. Please just be happy and don’t let other stop you or tell you your dreams are not enough because they’re “too traditional” or “stereotypical”

#feminism #women #toxic expectations #not like other girls #self-worth #happiness #random rant #your dreams will always be enough #do what makes you happy #stop hating on eachother #the world is hard enough without it

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vulgarcute · 4 years

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First Contact || Jinx x Ohma || “Gods of Love”

Summary: After a long day Kazuo takes Ohma to an affordable restaurant serving high quality meats. What he doesn’t realize is that there will be a lack of customers, workers, or much of anything at all as the owner works to provide her customers with premium service. Service that Ohma can truly appreciate.

Word Count: 1,696 words

The night air was crisp with the dropping temperature enough to make anyone feel a select kind of shiver run through their body from head to toe. Every light in the bustling city streets acted to make things a bit warmer in the same vein that the body heat of those just passing by unknowingly did. Not that any of it was important when the warmth brought on by glee was factored in. “Oi,” a voice called out to his smaller (and much older) companion with only a shred of concern, “aren’t you moving a little fast?” The man stood tall, everything about him swollen to match. Every muscle he had worked to it’s limit pushing against the tighter fabric of his jacket in an ever lovely manner that still managed to seem pitiful in comparison to the mess or black tresses sprouting from his head without much care or consideration. And yet there he was, a man with charm, a man with outward appearance above the rest without even realizing so.

That wasn’t to say his older friend didn’t have merit. He may have been older, his hair an organized mess and glasses stylishly outdated, but he too held a charm. His whole being encompassed the idea of a fatherly businessman taking out his son (or in this case figurative son) for a nice meal to celebrate whatever grand achievement caused him to beam with such unbridled boastfulness. Though he barely had one his chest was swollen with pride and steps full of fragile confidence.

Confidence that the meal he had promised the taller gentleman would be as delicious as victory, “Oh come on! You know they used to call me fast Kazzy back in my day!”

In the wind he had seen an advertisement fly by for a shockingly cheap restaurant by the name of “Lace Jelly”, and while the ad did seem a bit girly the promise of good food for a better price was enough to put away the idea that this might be some pop up cafe for women. If it was he would just… have to find somewhere else to eat.

He found no comfort when, after going through a few alleys and into an isolated area, the sign above the shop was as decorated in lace and pearls as one could imagine. But this was no deterrent for the younger man, apparently Ohma, who pushed open the door without hearing the silent protests of the older man before he looked over his shoulder with a raised brow, “Yamashitakazuo, aren’t you coming in?” Again with the calling of his full name! Kazuo would never understand this young man. Alas, while he entered the sound of the calmly crackling radio entered his ears and filled the old man with a sense of nostalgia made only more potent by the smell of freshly baked bread; one basket on every table from what he could see.

The walls were a subtle pink that held the sunlight leaking through the windows in a manner one would think impossible given how the building was tucked away. The tables were rounded with an ornate wooden base lovingly painted a pale rose and white marble table top. There were already four white cushioned chairs around each of these five tables, paired with four pastel heart shaped dinner plates (each a different color), mugs to match, and silverware laid over rather plush looking napkins. It was all rather feminine yet still felt like a home in a way no other little cafe he had entered did in a very long time.

Stepping forward Ohma took a menu off of the stool at the front and moved to one of the empty seats, not a single customer in sight despite the sound of things being put together in the kitchen, “We’ll be seating ourselves! A table of two!”

His voice carried apprehension as well as it dripped confusion as he sunk into the alarmingly cozy chair.

He opened his mouth to try and make small talk with Ohma but he was already drooling over the images of thick steaks on the menu. Closing his eyes he relaxed into his spot only for the sound of someone speaking to frighten him to the point of stiffening up, “what can I get for you two gentleman today?”

A bit high, but still holding as much youthful vigor as a voice could. It held motherly backing and at the same time was cute enough to reveal her as someone young. Not that her appearance didn’t give that much away. Her blonde hair was divided in three distinct parts; one large pigtail on either side of her head and the rest flowing behind her. The top was decorated with a cartoonishly large bow. The rest of her was just as unfortunately fitting. Her little baker’s uniform was off white with a cranberry apron buttoned on with a heart shaped pocket resting on another larger pocket nestled against the left side, a white band around her waist, bunny stockings, a bow bracelet, and black shows with a pure white heel. But despite it all evoking his need to adopt this unknown grown woman; it wasn’t truly what caught his attention. It wasn’t her blue eyes that sparkled with excitement even through her glasses, it wasn’t how she effortlessly filled both glasses on the table with ice water despite the size of the jug she held that looked much to heavy, no, it was the fact he didn’t sense at all that she was coming that struck a chord with him. And from the look on Ohma’s face, he was dealing with the same experience.

How was it that she managed to sneak up so effortlessly? He must have been staring, because the poor girl began to look a little uncomfortable. He should say something before-

“I’m sorry gentleman, I didn’t mean to sneak up on y’all. I just got excited about having customers and all that. How about I give you your first serving free, as amends?” She gestured to the empty tables with a twinge of sadness, “as you can see, it wouldn’t hurt anyone else’s orders.” “Steak.” Was all Ohma said, pointing to an elaborate looking dish on the menu with a bit of the free bread still tucked into the corner of his mouth like a chipmunk guarding it’s harvest. “Yes sir! And what about for you, mister?” she didn’t even seem worried about if Kazuo had accepted her offer, which made sense seeing how quickly his dear fighter had taken her up on it. Clearing his throat the man looked for something simple before deciding on what looked to be just that.

“I’ll have the, uh, how about your burger,” just a simple burger patty, didn’t seem all that complex right? Nothing to worry about. With a nod of her head she just seemed to fade into the background as she headed for the kitchen. Looking up at Ohma, Kazuo prepared to speak once more but instead found himself curiously watching the man across from him who stared at the door into the kitchen with an expression he had yet to have seen. In all the times he had taken ohma to eat, this was the first time he had seen the man focus on anything but the meal in front of him.

In a moment’s time the girl ame back to the front with two armfuls of food. One hand held an american style burger with all of the fixings and the other several rather hefty looking steaks, “now I don’t want to see either of you leaving a speck on these plates! I portioned it out so you wouldn’t fill up too much before your next helping!” With the trained hand of someone who had worked in the industry for far too long she handed both men their meals and stood there a moment to gauge their reactions. She was a business owner in a business that was frankly going under. If there was anything in the faces these men made to tell her anything it was her job to see it! Kazuo was a bit bewildered, but began to eat as not to be rude. But Ohma hadn’t waited even a second before chowing into his food without even a second thought about etiquette. He wasn’t even using the silverware she so lovingly set out for customers! After he finished the second of three steaks she spoke up again, “easy big guy, can't have a handsome gentleman like you dying in my shop! The paperwork is one thing but watching art die is another.”

For the first time since they had begun to eat together Kazuo saw Ohma pause.

“How could I eat free every day?” He sounded so curious but the way his plate had been cleaned revealed his enjoyment more than verbal communication could possibly have done so. But this was worrying, Ohma had an unknown background and didn’t seem to know enough about the world to live in it without the help of someone guiding him. He had common sense and basic intelligence in everyday life, expert intelligence when fighting, but in social situations he was as lacking in skill as it could have been. Enough that most jokes-

“I’d only every do that for my husband,” an innocent comment followed by a jest, “unless you’re volunteering.” Flew over his head. It was in that moment Ohma made a foolish decision that would have an outstandingly positive outcome, “I am.”

With a laugh the waitress stuck out her hand, “well husband, I think we should introduce ourselves before you do that. I’m Jinx, owner of the Lace Deer. I’m twenty four years old and my hobbies are running my restaurant and decorating.”

“Tokita Ohma,” He didn’t know really how old he was, just that he was in his late twenties if he counted years he could remember, “I like to eat, and I’m the strongest man you’ve ever met.”

And just like that, as he took her hand and agreed to something beyond what either realized, the fated pair had made their first contact.

#tokita ohma #ohma tokita #selfship #selfshipping #oc x canon #kegan ashura #ship: gods of love #fun fact their ship name is based on Ohma's fighter name #Im posting two more then sleeping #I KEEP THIS IN MY DOCS BC IM EMBARRASSED #BUT I NEED TO POST EXAMPLES FOR MY COMMISSION PAGE

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thej13579 · 4 years

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Prince Kai (KH/TPTAF F2M TG/TF)

Kairi set out to save Sora and Riku, only to find herself becoming the prince of Sora's dreams.

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since Riku was sent to rescue Sora and he hasn’t come back. Kairi knew that this was her turn to rescue them.

After Riku’s failure to return with Sora, she knew better than to just go charging off without a plan. She had arranged other Keyblade wielders such as Mickey, Roxas, Xion, Lea, Aqua, Ventus and Terra. She asked them to do a simple task. If she doesn’t return with Riku and Sora within a week, they are to follow her into the forbidden world together and fight off whatever force is keeping her friends trapped there. Kairi was confident that they could do this.

And so with the power of the Keyblade, Kairi accessed the forbidden world and dived into it, ready to save her friends.

It wasn’t long before Kairi ended up in New Orleans. She could see people walking down the sidewalks and cars driving through the streets. Somehow, in spite of all the bright lights and the people running around, the place felt cold and sterile to Kairi. Like something wasn’t right.

“I told you he’s the one for you.”

Kairi turned to see two girls walking down the sidewalk. One had light brown hair and was wearing a bright pink flapper dress and the other had silver hair and was wearing the same dress with a baby blue shade to it.

“Yeah. Thank you for helping me get together with Bruce.”

“You’re welcome.”

At first glance, they looked like average teenage girls, but as she used her powers… She couldn’t believe it.

Those girls were Sora and Riku. With their girlish bodies, feminine attire and faces full of makeup, it was all but impossible for Kairi to recognize them without her powers. How could this have happened to them?

“Maybe tomorrow afternoon we can go to that new salon together so we can get all dolled up for our events. I heard the employees there can make anyone feel like a princess.”

She can hear their voices getting quieter and quieter as they went further away from her. She had to catch them.

“Sora! Riku!”

The two girls turned to see Kairi running up to them. They looked confused at first, but as she got closer, their eyes widened in shock.

“Kairi?”

They actually recognized her. Maybe she could actually free them and get out of here before something terrible happens.

Sora and Riku shook their heads as the initial shock wore off. They ran up to Kairi.

“Hey there, I’m Sora and this is my best friend, Rachel.”

“Yeah,” Riku tossed his hair. “I never heard of anyone named Riku.”

“I just love your outfit,” Sora giggled. “Not the most appropriate for a place like this, but I think it looks rather stylish.”

“Um… thanks,” Kairi said. “Now, I-”

“And that hair, it looks so cute on you. You know, there’s just something about you that makes you look so pretty and cute and attractive and...”

Sora stopped and Kairi noticed that the former began to stare into her eyes. She had the strong feeling that her friend’s heart was racing.

Kairi shook her head. What is she doing? She’s here to save her friends.

“Come on,” Kairi grabbed Sora and Riku’s arms. “We need to get you guys out of here before-”

“Hey there!”

Kairi turned to see a blonde-haired woman running up towards the three. Her outfit is exactly like Sora’s, bright pink color and everything. If it wasn’t for her hair and increased height, Kairi would’ve thought that the two were twins.

“Hey, sis,” Sora broke out of Kairi’s arms and pulled the woman into a hug. “This is Kairi. Kairi, this is my big sister, Charlotte.”

“Hey there, Kairi,” Charlotte shook the young girl’s hand. I see you are already good friends with my little sister. Did you two meet before?”

“Yeah.”

It was technically true, though not in the way that Charlotte believed.

“How about you come over to our place?” Sora suggested. “I bet you’ll love what we got.”

“That’s a great idea. Come on, girls!”

“Wait…” Kairi says desperately. “Wait!”

Without warning, Charlotte grabbed Kairi’s hand and dragged her down the street.

“Waiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”

Kairi had to admit that the La Bouff estate was quite impressive. It was big, expansive and quite fancy. She can barely recall a place like this from a time long long ago.

Rachel is currently off powdering her nose in the ladies room, leaving Kairi alone with Sora and Charlotte.

“Lottie?”

Charlotte turned to Sora.

“Yes, sis?”

“I want to talk to you about Kairi.”

Kairi turned towards the duo. Curiosity took her.

“What about her?” Charlotte asked.

“It’s just that around her, I get this warm and fuzzy feeling,” Sora explained. “It’s like whenever I see a prince from one of those storybooks that we both love, but with her, well…”

“She’s a girl.”

“But I love her,” Sora said. “It’s so weird to have these feelings for a girl.”

“Hmm…” Charlotte examined Kairi, eyeing her top to bottom like a model. “I think I know why you feel this way.”

“You do?”

“Yes, Sora,” Charlotte nodded. “This girl here might actually be the prince you were looking for.”

“P-prince? What?”

Before Kairi could object any further, Charlotte took a cup of blue liquid and poured the contents down her throat. By the time she realized what happened, all the liquid went right down her throat.

“What did you make me drink?”

“Just a potion to give you a little much-needed masculinity. That’s all.”

“Masculinity?”

It was then Kairi’s body began tingling. She looked towards her arms to find them gaining actual muscles. Gone were the slender and dainty arms and in their place were fairly muscular arms, just like Sora’s.

“H-Huh!” Kairi looked down only to see her legs undergoing the same process. Well-toned legs with quite a bit of muscle to them. She could also swore they grew a bit longer as well, pushing her height up a couple feet.

The process was going far too fast for comfort. As much as she wanted to run, Kairi could feel herself getting disoriented. She sat down on the nearby couch, trying to regain her senses.

She ran her hand through her hair. It was a lot shorter than she remembered. It shouldn’t be. In fact, she could feel it receding back into her head, the process going so far that her new hairstyle resembled that of the average teenage boy.

Kairi pressed her hand to her chest only to find a flat feeling to it.

Kairi knew she wasn’t the most endowed girl around, sure, but she still had visible breasts. Now her chest is completely flat. Budding breasts completely replaced by rock-hard abs.

“Sora, what… my voice!”

Kairi clutched her throat only to find an Adam’s apple forming on it. Her voice was far deeper too. It sounded less high-pitched and more among the lines of a brave and dashing hero. The kind Sora and Charlotte wanted her to be.

Not helping Kairi’s discomfort at the changes was how her new masculine body was completely ill-fitted for her outfit, about two sizes too small for her. She had an awkward feeling that her dress was about ready to rip itself in half.

“You’re really helping her,” Sora said. “Thank you sis.”

“You’re welcome, Sora,” Charlotte responded. “I’m sure by the time we’re done, Kairi would be quite the prince charming.”

The garish contrast of Kairi’s girlish outfit on top of her new masculinized bod did not go unnoticed by the two.

“Of course, that outfit won’t do for a dashing prince like you at all. Here…”

Charlotte threw a bunch of powder onto Kairi, causing the increasingly masculinized girl to cough up a fit. When the powder dissipated, Kairi’s dress was replaced by a royal white and blue suit with a black belt with a gold buckle at the midriff; gold buttons; red lining the collar, down the chest, and cuffs along with red epaulettes; her bottom half is now in a matching pair of dark blue trousers with red lining and black shoes.

Kairi had to admit it was a rather stylish outfit and it would definitely look good on someone like Sora or Riku. The problem was that it was meant for her, or rather her new body.

She examined her new body. Strong muscular body, taller height, shorter hair, deep voice. Every single thing about her body has changed to fit the fairy-tale esque prince stereotype. That is… with the exception of one part and she was not looking forward to it being taken away in the slightest.

Kairi could feel something extending out of her vagina. A long thing that she does not want to mention the name of.

This was it.

That penis confirmed the horrifying truth: that she was no longer Kairi.

That she now harbored the body of a man.

That she now resembles, for all intents and purposes, a prince… at least in body.

She is still Kairi inside. She is still a Princess of Heart, a Keyblade wielder.

For a moment, she thought they couldn’t take that away from her. But, upon looking at what happened to Sora and Riku, the latter just entering the room, Kairi wasn’t so sure. She knew that Charlotte must’ve been the one who turned her friends into ditzy girly-girls. But she had no idea how it’ll affect her personality.

It was then her eyes laid on Sora.

Sora.

She can remember when she fought alongside Sora during the final battle with Xehanort, how he slain countless Heartless with a second thought, and heard of his adventures through countless worlds. Now… he looked so sweet, so demure, so innocent, like he couldn’t hurt a fly. If Sora ever got himself in danger as he is now, he’ll be completely helpless. The thought of defending himself would never even cross his mind. Kairi knew she had to protect him.

It was then she felt a weight in her pocket that wasn’t there before. She pauses, confused, and reaches into her pocket.

A white box.

Kairi opened it to reveal a diamond ring. Why was this in her pocket? It was obviously for the one she was supposed to be engaged to.

Her eyes leaned to Sora again, who is currently giggling with Charlotte and Riku over something she couldn’t hear. She was too far away.

One thing that Kairi noticed was that, even with their three-inch heels, she dwarfed her Sora and Riku in size by probably a foot and a half. She was even taller than Charlotte by a couple of inches.

She closed the box. Was she supposed to ask Sora for his hand in marriage? They’re both sixteen years old and probably not legally able to marry even if Kairi genuinely wanted to. But there was something in her heart compelling her to propose such a thing, that she had to marry Sora.

As if by instinct, she approached the trio and turned towards the one she loved dearly.

“Sora!”

The feminized Keyblade Master turned to Kairi. She kneeled to Sora and opened the tiny box, revealing the diamond ring to him.

“Will you marry me?”

Sora looked down at the ring and then looked up at Kairi. His mouth briefly incapable of forming words.

“Yes! Oh, yes yes yes yes! A thousand times yes!”

Kairi quickly found herself with Sora jumping right into her arms, covering her face with kiss after red lipstick laced kiss.

Sora wasn’t the only one celebrating as both Charlotte and Rachel were clapping their hands, giggling in pure glee.

“Oh, I so want to marry you, Kai!” Sora squealed. “You’re the prince of my dreams!”

“K-Kai?”

Kairi knew that was her new name. It seemed… natural. Not too dissimilar from her old name, but it was more masculine than it. It felt so right.

She shutted her eyes. What the hell was she thinking? She’s Kairi, not some prince from a faraway kingdom she knew nothing about.

New images began to flow into her mind. Images of armors, castles and princes. It was getting hard for her to remember all the good times she had with her friends amongst the masculine imagery clouding her mind. The most vivid image by far was one of a brave prince with an appearance not too dissimilar from Kairi’s new look, slaying a monstrous dragon while a princess screams for the prince’s help behind the dragon.

New memories also took place in her mind. Gone were memories of watching Sora and Riku spar alongside their friends and in their place were memories of nobility lessons from tutors and falling in love with Sora upon first sight.

She could hear the bells ring… bells? There were no bells in the La Bouff house.

As she opened her eyes, Kairi noticed that she was no longer in New Orleans, but in a church.

Behind her were several men, none of which she recognized. Though she did notice Riku smiling whenever his eyes were on the blonde-haired boy right across him.

Speaking of Riku, the women are a different story. There was Charlotte La Bouff alongside several other women, obviously bridesmaids. She could also see Riku right in front of them. It was obvious to Kairi that he’s the maid of honor in this wedding.

Music echoed through the building. Kairi could recognize the bridal chorus anywhere. She turned to see the church doors slowly open.

There, being escorted by a portly figure she never met, was Sora. All dolled up in a lovely pink and white wedding gown with puffy sleeves, embroidered flowers, layers upon layers of petticoats and a veil to complete her bridal attire. She marched down the aisle, carrying a bouquet of flowers with two flower girls skipping behind, throwing flowers onto the aisle.

As Sora walked up to the altar and turned to face her, Kairi noticed how happy he looked. Not even the veil could hide the smile on his face. He made quite the lovely bride, Kairi admitted. It was getting harder for Kairi to see her best friend as a boy. He… no, she looked perfect.

“It is here we are to see the marriage between a prince and his lovely bride, we-”

As the priest droned on, any attention that Kairi had for the wedding ritual was taken away to focus on Sora herself.

Kairi knew this was wrong. Under normal circumstances, the wedding between the two should’ve had Sora as the groom and Kairi as the bride. Not the other way around. Not this magical trap that she and her friends had stumbled into.

At the same time though, it felt so right. She still loved Sora and she knew that she still loved her in turn, even if Kairi’s mind is still being corrupted by masculine thoughts and Sora’s mind had long been corrupted by whatever girlish thoughts this place had drilled into her head.

“Sora, do you take Prince Kai as your lawfully wedded husband till death do you part?”

“I do.”

Sora didn’t even hesitate at the chance to be Kairi’s wife.

Kairi knew that Sora was no longer capable of protecting herself in his newly feminized state let alone anyone else. Maybe it’s time for her to protect him. She failed him as Kairi. She couldn’t protect anyone, but as Prince Kai… maybe things could be different?

“Prince Kai, would you take this woman before you as your lawfully wedded wife till death do you part?

It was her turn and she knew what she had to do.

“I do.”

“Then you may kiss the bride.”

Kairi took Sora’s hands into hers and pulled her friend into a long, loving kiss. As the two kissed, Kairi could feel the last twinges of her old self slowly faded into oblivion. Kairi, the seventh Princess of Heart is now gone. In her place is Prince Kai; a brave young man who has sworn to protect his friends, his kingdom, and the ones he loves.

Sora quickly tossed the bouquet of flowers into the crowd. It didn’t take long for the bouquet to end in Rachel’s hands, the young woman giggling incessantly. It is a wedding convention that the woman who catches the bridal bouquet will be the next to be married and Rachel’s eyes turned towards her true love, Bruce. She couldn’t wait for the day when she’s walking down that aisle.

Kai swept Sora off of her feet, the girl wrapping her arms around her dashing prince. He left the church and as the door magically swung open on its own, Kai could see two servants opening the door to a majestic white carriage. He quickly dashed in and placed Sora down next to him.

As the carriage began to ride away from the church, Kai took a look at Sora. She was so beautiful, even someone like Kai couldn’t describe it with words. Of course, beauty on its own wouldn’t make Sora a good queen. She had to be caring and compassionate towards others and she was more than capable of it.

Sadly, as sweet and kind as Sora is, Kai knew that she couldn’t defend herself in any way. She’s far too dainty, delicate and the thought of fighting simply disgusts her. Kai knew that he had to protect her from any danger. Luckily for her, Kai was more than willing to be her protector.

He gently grabbed Sora and placed her on his lap. The young woman gasped as her new husband held her tightly.

“I can’t wait for our honeymoon,” Sora giggled incessantly. “I know you’ll really make me feel like a princess.”

“I can’t wait too,” Kai looked out the window to see a castle on the horizon. His castle.

“Oh my god,” Pete laughed. Only the bare amount of restraint prevented him from rolling on the floor, laughing his ass off. “This is too good.”

“I certainly agree with you on that,” Maleficent chuckled. “Two of my greatest enemies and one of the Princesses of Heart currently in my clutches.”

Maleficent looked into her crystal ball, only to see several forces of light slowly approaching the world that she trapped her foes in.

“Who are they?” Pete asked.

“Old foes,” Maleficent shrugged. “No need to worry. After all, if the world I created could restrain several of our most powerful foes, there’s no way they could save themselves as well. They’ll be completely trapped in our clutches and they might be reforged to serve our own goals.”

The two evildoers proceeded to laugh as their foes slowly moved towards Maleficent’s created world, unaware of the trap that was set for them.

#kingdom hearts #the princess and the frog #my fanfiction #kairi #sora #riku #charlotte la bouff #masculinization #forced masculinization #brainwashing

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alwaysspeakshermind · 5 years

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A-Z of Favorite Fictional Ladies B is for: Buffy Summers

As a rule, I endure rather than enjoy nine out of ten fictional female protagonists, and it’s incredibly frustrating. But it’s also something I’ve kind of come to accept.With all the different types of women out there in the world, nine out of ten fictional female protagonists will still wind up being one of the same two types of characters: the oft-overlooked Good Girl™ who’s sweet/accommodating/a little shy-but-also-feisty, or the Rebel/Intellectual/Tomboy who is Not Like Other Girls and scorns pink but turns out to be movie-star gorgeous when a friend who knows all things girly forces her to dress up and turn heads. (Basically, Mary Sue or Scary Sue.) By the time I was eight, I had sort of figured out that my favorite female characters, the ones I actually related to and who inspired me, were not liked/admired by 90% of the other girls around me, because basically none of them had problems learning when to speak up—they all had problems learning when to shut up.

When I first began watching Buffy, I figured it would be the same old story: I’d sigh at the protagonist, love one of the secondary characters best, and at most, get a few laughs out of the whole thing. At that point, I was already in college and frankly, I was pretty sure any show as hyped as this one would have a protagonist I would hate.

But!

Then I met Buffy.

And Buffy is just…Buffy.

Why she’s my girl:

She spends her evenings roaming graveyards and fighting vampires, but fashionably. She quips non-stop and has a tight-knit group of friends, but is a lonely little soul. She saves the world (a lot) but mostly just wants to be left alone to live her life in peace, and to quote someone formerly dangerous and currently annoying, she has bleedin’ tragic taste in men (Je stink).

From the beginning of the series to its end, the Buffster is a protagonist who flirts with the thin line of likeability. While she is a protagonist who is easy to root for, she is also one who makes many, many mistakes that frequently come back to bite her (pun only semi-intended). I personally don’t 100% relate to her until about S5 and then it starts getting uncomfortable how much I relate to her, but her actions in response to dicey situations command my respect at all times.

For all her cute blondeness and ever-present wisecracking, Buffy’s tough. Diamond-tough, really, and unapologetic; she’s simultaneously an unabashed girly-girl and a kickass bitchy-bitch, and she will do whatever it takes to get the job done. Responsibility isn’t a thing she seeks yet somehow, it always seems to find her, and even when she wants to run away and let someone else deal with it for a change, she ends up staying and battling. She’s a peppy cheerleader turned college dropout turned person who would rather work construction over retail (but winds up in fast-food) turned high-school guidance counselor, and she’s forever wistfully eyeing the normal lives of those she protects. But ultimately, her calling is Slayer, and the “dumb” blonde Valley girl who resents messing up her manicure punching vampires and paying too much for cream rinses that are neither creamy nor rinse-y is a powerful force to be reckoned with.

She is, sadly, still only one of a small number of female characters who highlight that liking pink and caring about clothes and wanting a date do not equal weakness, and I will always love her for that—as someone who loves boxing/self-defense/general punching things but also shopping and cute outfits, Buffy makes me feel very seen. She doesn’t apologize for liking miniskirts and heels, but she doesn’t exclusively wear miniskirts and heels…she’s practical enough to wear clothes that can survive slaying (halter tops, for instance). She’s funny, bright, impatient, and stubborn, and she’s loyal to a fault. She talks a lot but isn’t great with words. She puns obsessively, often at inappropriate times. She holds grudges and isn’t the greatest student, but she continually fights to protect those who can’t protect themselves, and when she’s quite literally dragged from her rest, she still tries to pick up the shambles of her life and keep going—without telling any of the responsible parties how it’s affected her. I mean, the part where she has to ahem, claw her way out of something her own self-sacrifice put her in in the first place? THE STRENGTH THAT REQUIRES IS NOT JUST PHYSICAL, and I still get a little angry at the Scoobies for that one.

She’s considered kind of dumb even by those closest to her, yet they constantly look to her for leadership when things go south. She deals with (don’t even get me started because I could happily smack all of them) the Potentials, and does what she can to prepare and comfort the younger girls for the death and destruction most likely coming their way. She defies senseless, heavy-handed authority that attempts to impose rules and traditions on her and those she cares about, and when she loves, she loves deeply.

She is, in essence, powerful but enormously flawed—and anyone who considers that a negative thing in feministic representation is egregiously myth-taken.

Favorite Quotes:

WAY-hay-hay too many to count, but some especially meaningful faves off the top of my head are:

“I may be dead...but I’m still pretty.”

“Hi, honey. I’m home.”

“The whole earth may be sucked into Hell, and you want my help ‘cause your girlfriend’s a big ho? Well, let me take this opportunity to not care.”

[“No weapons. No friends. No hope. Take all that away, and what’s left?”] “Me.”

[“You’re really campaigning for Bitch of the Year, aren’t you?”] “As defending champion, you nervous?”

“Bite me.”

“She irons her jeans. She’s evil. She has to be destroyed!”

“So you haven’t murdered anybody lately? Let’s be best pals!”

“That probably would have sounded more commanding if I wasn’t wearing my Yummy Sushi pajamas.”

“Conversation’s over, hell-bitch.”

“The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it.”

“I think I know why Joan’s the boss—I’m like a superhero or something!”

“Goodnight, bitch.”

“No guy is worth your life. Not ever.”

#buffy summers #btvs edit #my girl #opinion #favorite characters #unnecessary but necessary post #favorite fictional character alphabet

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deltaengineering · 6 years

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Winter Anime 2019 Part 3: High on Concept

If you wait long enough, you’ll find something good to say.

Doukyonin wa Hiza, Tokidoki, Atama no Ue / My Roommate is a Cat

What: Misanthropic mystery author picks up tough stray cat, both get healed.

✅ The cat acts like a cat, the misanthrope acts like a misanthrope.

✅ The approach of telling the same simple story from the perspective of two characters that can’t really communicate effectively is interesting.

✅ This is very basic, but it works. I like both characters, and it's generally inoffensive. Pretty much Barakamon with less of a focus on telling you exactly what to feel. Might watch more of this.

❌ I see we’re now at the point where shows get localized titles that sound like lazy translations of bland Japanese names even when the Japanese title is not that bland to begin with. Lovely.

Dimension High School

What: A bunch of kids press XXX and YYY and are sucked. Wooow.

✅✅ The wraparound segments look extremely realistic. If there was more lensflares and shots of feet I’d almost say someone has finally beaten KyoAni in making anime look like a cheap, egregiously overacted J-Drama.

❌❌ Sadly, the puzzle dimension they end up in just looks like homemade MMD animation, because it is. I mean, at least it’s mocapped, but apparently with a Kinect.

❌❌ E.g., they make jokes about clipping and they kinda have to because everything clips into everything else all the time.

❌❌ Did I mention that all they actually do is solve lame puzzles and fail to be funny about it? It’s really getting to the levels of the dreaded “barely animated voice actor improv podcast” at these points.

♎ Suwabe’s in it, and that’s never an outright bad thing. He’s voicing the quizmaster, in the process proving he’d do anything for a paycheck. I wonder if he has a fiverr acocunt.

Domestic na Kanojo

What: Highschooler loses virginity to one night stand, finds out that it was the sister of the teacher he has a crush on. Incidentally, the mother of both also just married his father. Zany!

✅ This is presented like a low-key, slow drama, and it’s not even bad at that. Some good directing going on here, at least in the beginning.

❌❌ Really just too bad that it’s impossible to take seriously with a setup as contrived as this, not to mention taking it as seriously as it apparently wants to be taken. It’s also not exactly original.

❌ I’m not gonna say that sketchy relationships can’t work (it worked fine for KoiAme, for example), but embedding your suddenly also incestuous pupil-teacher affair in the setting of a harem comedy, complete with other sister walking in on attempted drunk blackout kiss, is not giving me confidence that this has the chops to pull it off.

❌❌ The show this reminds me the most of is Love and Lies, and that’s a real bad calling card to have.

Girly Air Force

What: Girl-shaped fighter jets fall in love with a dude.

❌❌ It’s just another military-hardware-is-cute-girls-actually show in the vein of Strike Witches, the kind where they think that having a few plane CG models is already thrilling content.

❌❌ But then it doesn’t even turn out to be that in practice, because most of the episode is taken up by lame “worldbuilding” (i.e., coming up with excuses for why your fanservice show has to be the way it is) and trying to make your bland harem lead interesting, which is a futile endeavour.

❌ The most interesting part is still the CG dogfighting, such as it is. It’s not great either. Also, girly planes are pink.

♎ Honestly got a laugh out of them randomly picking a Gripen as heroine unit in addition to actual JSADF hardware, because that’s a sleek-looking plane. The biggest prank the JSADF ever pulled on the otaku industry is buying the chubby F-35, which is nowhere to be seen here.

Go-toubun no Hanayome / The Quintessential Quintuplets

What: Empoverished highschooler is hired as a tutor for some rich quintuplets with large breasts.

❌ This is a blatant harem setup that would make a 2003 bishoujo VN blush.

✅ However, in practice it’s much better than it sounds. It knows it’s a wacky romcom with a dumb premise and it does not pretend otherwise.

✅ So it’s lighthearted, but it’s also surprisingly classy. In fact, it’s classier than Domestic no Kanojo, which is a show that’s actually trying to look respectable and failing.

✅ The relationships are also very feisty, with an energy that a comedy needs. There’s a lot of sass to go around here. Probably the best of these I’ve seen in a while, so I’ll give it three eps.

Kemurikusa

What: After getting pulled off the sequel, the Kemono Friends crew made their own version. Presumably there are blackjack and hookers in this show’s future.

❌ If you are a fan of KF’s “charms”, fear not, you would not be able to tell these people made another anime before. It's still total amateur hour.

❌❌ It’s not even the “looks”, though those certainly are not a highlight. The design is okay and the animation is bad, but I’m not incapable of enjoying shows with bad animation. What really kills it is the editing. I usually don’t comment on editing because that’s almost always competent and only very rarely great, but Kemurikusa has uniquely lazy and badly timed editing. Every shot being seconds longer than it needs to be is already an annoyance in low-key dialog scenes, but the alleged action is laughable and allows you a long, unblinking stare at every frame of bad animation. I really do wonder why they even bother with it when it’s so terrible.

✅ The setting seems alright, even though it’s just a reskinned Kemono Friends. At least it’s not gijinka nonsense this time (which makes one wonder where the gimmick characters are supposed to come from, but I digress), and it’s more upfront about what it actually is too. I’d call it mildly intriguing.

❌ I don’t mind mystery and certainly prefer it to exposition bombs, but instead of that this episode quickly establishes the most basic facts... and then repeats them over and over and over some more. Combined with non-editing, this makes for horrible pacing.

♎ I had no opinion on KF’s longer-term qualities, because the first episode was so boring I never got any further. I won’t have an opinion on this show’s long-term qualities for the same reason.

Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka

What: Magical girls are tragic, shoot gun’s.

❌❌ Yo bro, what if magical girls but dark? Surely such a thing has never been attempted.

❌ The particular source of grim here is that these girls are war vets and fight with semi-realistic weaponry, so there’s a fair bit of the ol’ milwank in this one as well.

❌ The best part of the entire show is that the enemies they originally fought looked like cute teddy bears. Of course, this is dropped in favor of just slicing and dicing some random terrorists in the main narrative. I guess “dark magical girl” is still too outlandish a concept, gotta go with ripping off The Punisher again.

❌ The characters so far are nothing special, you got your PTSD Rambo and the generically cute tomodachis she swears to protect. Such contrast!

❌❌ If you must make these 80s action movies with some otaku gimmick pasted on top, would you mind making the action look good at least? Because I don’t care how many gallons of blood you paint in your dramatic but conspicuously non-moving pans.

Meiji Tokyo Renka

What: Spiritually sensitive lonelygirl gets kitsuned to the Meiji era, which is full of delicious beef and some handsome men too I guess.

✅ This isn’t an outright comedy, but it goes all in on everyone’s fabulosity level to a degree that it’s really already three quarters to Dame x Prince.

✅ Similarly, the lead is not quite as unimpressed with these hams as Ani was, but she certainly has a lot more interest in roast beef than in these guys always trying to pull her into sparkly chin-holding poses &c.

✅ Meiji Tokyo Renka doesn’t seem to be anything special, but it gets the tone right and is expressive enough to not become boring.

♎ While certainly watchable right now, with these there’s always the chance that it decides to launch into real drama in the long run, which in turn almost always goes wrong.

Yakusoku no Neverland / The Promised Neverland

What: An orphanage’s happy daily life gets upended by the realisation that they’re just pizza rolls for some demonic entities.

✅ I watched this right after Kemurikusa and let me tell you, it sure helps if you’ve got professionals on the team. This is a highly competent show as far as cinematography and editing is concerned. While there isn’t any reason to go all out on the action sakuga, this show looks real good.

❌ I’m not feeling the character design, to be specific I think everyone’s chin is too big. This sounds like a real assholy nitpick, but be aware that this will impact around 90% of the time you watch this.

✅ The premise is workable for a shounen manga, even if hardly original (remember Owari no Seraph?) At least it’s not kids with superpowers spamming beams at each other while discussing the nature of heroism, and seems to be going for a more mindgames-based approach in the vein of Death Note. The characters are just barely good enough so far. In the end it’s not so much the premise, but how well the production values are able to sell it. And that’s what Neverland is good at.

❌ It’s specifically a Weekly Shounen Jump manga, and that is huge red flag. Sure enough, while the visuals and mood deliver, the dialog writing justifiably assumes the reader is a moron. Almost every line in this is either straight universe exposition or someone reading someone else’s character sheet back to them. It’s insane and not even necessary because their actions establish all of this just fine, but hey, WSJ readers amirite?

❌ Also, since it’s a successful WSJ property, don’t expect an ending or be prepared to watch this show for years. Most likely both.

♎ This seems like it could be entertaining once the exposition is out of the way and the real meat of the narrative starts. Then again, at that point pacing would come into play, which is yet another achilles heel of WSJ-style shounen manga. Against my better judgement, I’ll probably have a look how this develops, but I don’t expect much.

#anime #winter2019 #impressions #meiji tokyo renka #yakusoku no neverland #the promised neverland #Doukyonin wa Hiza Tokidoki Atama no Ue #My Roommate is a Cat #dimension high school #domestic na kanojo #girly air force #go-toubun no hanayome #the quintessential quintuplets #Magical Girl Spec-Ops Asuka

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bloodzonee · 5 years

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(This is my very first time writing anything on here and tbh i’m pretty nervous about it. But i’m hoping you guys enjoy what i’ve written. Please let me know any pointers you have for chapter two or anyway I can improve. 💕)

Chapter 1 – Blue Eyes.

As the sun dipped under the horizon my father and I went on a hunting trip, he was a rough man and he wanted me to be the same. Hunting was one of his biggest hobbies because he was good at it, it was always “Kill or be killed,” he used this as a method to keep me on my toes. About an hour in, the barrel of my Remington .270 pointed toward a young buck seconds away from pulling the trigger I noticed a pair of dark yellow eyes behind the deer, I trailed away using the scope I noticed a dozen pairs of yellow eyes. Instantly my father ripped the gun from my grasp cursing under his breath. I’ve never seen fear in my father’s eyes nor had I seen fear like this. It wasn’t until they began stalking forward that I fully understood what they were; Wolves. “Stand down!” my father called out in a demanding tone as if they were your typical house puppy. My heart pounded against my chest as they pawed roughly at the gravel, their breath making clouds in the dirt. “Dad…” I whispered my hand reaching out for the sleeve of his shirt but he wouldn’t budge. It was as if he was the owner of these wild animals, or was trying to be. Kneeling to my level my father gripped my shoulders roughly causing me to wince slightly. “Listen to me!” he demanded, his hands shaking. “I need you to run and keep running until you get home, do not look back. I’ll be behind you…” I knew that was a lie just by the shake in his voice. “Do not wait for me, Nadia..” Nothing made sense to me, tears streamed down my cheeks. “No matter what you hear do not look back or some back for me. Do you hear me?” he was now demanding me to listen. I nodded as reality set in, this was his goodbye. I rushed into my father’s arms hugging him tightly, he hugged me back before tearing me off him nudging me to get a move on. “I love you, never forget that.” He spoke roughly as he turned back toward the furry beasts.

I turned on my heels and took off running, my breath was cold and I shortly got lost. I didn’t know this area as much as my father did, I had no clue where home was. I didn’t look back, as instructed, I continued to run that was until my leg caught a branch like in every scary movie ever. In that moment I broke down, heaving as I heard howling in the background, the hunter in me knew that meant they were looking for their pray. Knowing I needed to get up I caught my breath for another second but it was a second too long, I felt a warm moist rush against my skin, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up and for a moment I was paralyzed. As I turned my head I was greeted with that familiar pair of yellow eyes. I thought for sure I was done for, I bowed my head and closed my eyes tight waiting for the impact. Instead, I heard soft whimper coming from the wolf as its snout trailed along my lap and down where I noticed I was bleeding. It’s eyes met mine once more and to my surprise they were not longer yellow they turned into beautiful oceanic hues, almost human-like. This wolf was smaller than the others, a juvenile. It began to nudge my arm as if telling me to get up and get going, I stood up slowly being very cautious with my surroundings not knowing if It was a trap. With a soft growl, it nudged me forward once again and I took off running, following the direction it nudged me toward. This time, I looked back. The young wolf was till watching me, the blue in its eyes slowly faded back into that dark eerie yellow, lifting its snout in the air and howling loudly as he darted off into the opposite direction. I made it home almost ten minutes later where I called the police telling them everything that happened and demanding they search the woods. They told me a squad would be out there in minutes. As I was hanging up the phone I peered outside my window instantly catching the gaze of those beautiful blue eyes, it lowered its muzzle and it almost looked releaved. I ran over to my closet to find my flashlight but once I made it back to the window, he was gone.

The next morning my mother and I were awoken with a knock at the door, it was the cops delivering the bad news. Officer Johnson told us they had no luck finding my father’s body but they did find mass amounts of blood. But he assured us that they would still be looking and that my father’s picture was sent out to every station in the area. We held a small funeral for my father for my family wasn’t well known or liked for that matter. My mother was the crazy city alcoholic and my father was the creepy quiet man that no one even desired talking to. Only about six people showed up there was my mother and I, my father’s looney friend Daryl, the priest and two men I’ve never seen before. One was an older gentleman and one looked to be around my age. My father kept to himself and the only friend I ever knew of him having was Daryl, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for my father to go missing for days on end, although this peeked my curiosity. I needed to find out who these strangers were. As the priest spoke of my father, reciting the usual funeral spiel. But I couldn’t help but to feel as though I was being watched, once I looked up I confirmed my suspicion the young boy was in fact staring at me but shortly found that he was caught as his eyes darted toward the lowering empty coffin. “Do we know them?” I whispered to my mother as the priest was wrapping up. “Shut up Nadia, not now.” Alcohol seeped off her breath as her words slurred from her lips. Although this was the response I expected to get I still needed to know, I thought I knew everything about my father. When I got the chance, I weaved over toward the two to thank them for coming and showing their respect. As I reached out to tap on the young boys shoulder I found myself speechless; his eyes. Those were the same eyes that saved my life in those woods. “Beau come now.” His father demanded in the background and he scurried off quickly.

“You can’t honestly think that the wolf and tat boy are the same…species…human…thing…” Andrea spoke confused as she reached for her sparkly PINK backpack. “You sound crazy,” she exclaimed as she tossed the pack back behind her, hitting me in the back, she looked back with a sly grin “…was he cute?” I rolled my eyes knowing that question was bound to pop out of her mouth. “I mean yeah, but that isn’t the point Andrea. His eyes…they looked identical.” I never told the cops about the wolf that potentially saved my life knowing in fact they would just think I was crazy as they did my father. “Maybe it’s Jacob from Twilight!” Andrea joked, tossing a few of her new outfits on the bed next to me. Ever since we were little I was always at Andreas house; her family was the family I always wish I had. They were normal – the perfect family. So, being over so late wasn’t unusual, it was kind of expected especially since we were two days away from starting our second year of high school. Andrea being the tall beautiful blonde that everyone either wanted to be or wanted to be with, she had to try on and model all her new clothing. I didn’t mind, I normally just sat there. I on the other hand was the more muscular nerdy girl in school who just so happens to be best friends with the pretty popular girl just like every other crappy teen movie. I was always teased growing up, I have blonde hair like Andrea but mine has more of a silver tint to it which earned me the nickname ‘Grandma’ original, I know. I didn’t care all that much though, appearance wasn’t as important to me as it was to Andrea. After about another hour of watching her flaunt around in her new clothing the two of us went to bed. The following day we woke up bright and early for yet another shopping day, Andrea even talked me into buy a ‘girly’ outfit.

Monday morning my alarm buzzed under my pillow around 6 AM causing me to jump out of my nightmare, ever since my father’s passing I couldn’t stop reliving his last moments. Shaking the memories from my brain I forced myself out of bed and began getting ready. Throwing my hair up in its normal messy bun, I pulled on a pair of jeans and an old torn Nirvana Rock T-shirt which was my fathers. I looked into the mirror one last time before a small sigh escaping my ruby red lips, I started toward my bus stop.

“Really?” I heard a familiar voice trail out from behind me, Andrea was obviously unhappy about my outfit choice. She has always wanted me to be more preppy and PINK like herself, I was just raised a little tougher and well poorer than her. Grabbing the paper from my hand she examined my new schedule. “We have Chemistry and Debate together,” nudging my arm she smiled slyly at me “Try not to be the biggest nerd in the glass this year,” I rose a brow “Sounds a lot like you won’t be copying my homework this year…” I jabbed back at her as she squinted back at me and quickly took back what she had said.

As the day dragged on nothing exciting happened, no fights, no over the summer pregnancies…nothing. Although, it was now time for our hour break we got halfway through the day. Unlike half of my class who liked to go off campus and get high in their cars, I took the time to get caught up on homework. Sitting under the large willow tree out from of the school, listening to the same old rock music my father listened to. The hour was almost up when a shadow emerged making it hard to see the work in front of me. Tossing a headphone out of my ear I looked up angrily “Excuse m…” it was him. “Grandma huh?” he mocked. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I struggled to hide my excitement. “That’s what they call me and you?” “Well, I go by Beau. I haven’t been lucky enough to get a nickname yet.” He stuck his thumbs through the straps of his back pack rocking back onto his heels. “New here?” I questioned. “Yup. My dad and I moved here temporarily. After my senior year is over it’s back to New Orleans.” He shook his shaggy brown hair from his eyes. “My father is from New Orleans,” I smiled up at him, now pushing myself off the grounds, wiping the grass from my jeans. His eyes lowering as I mentioned my father. “You were…at his funeral, right?” I took the chance to ask. Stumbling over his words a bit he finally spoke, “Our fathers were actually buddies awhile back.” At that moment, the bell run causing us both to jump. “I don’t think a year is long enough to develop a nickname.” I joked trying to ease the tension about my last question. His grin made my smile larger until I noticed I was blushing. Clearing my throat, I held up my book “Well it’s off to Chemistry.” I gathered my belongings, “Mrs. Green?” He replied and I nodded. “Looks like we’re headed to the same place, mind if I walk with you?” he smiled down at me as he was an entire foot taller than me and I nodded.

As we walked into the classroom my eyes caught sight of Andrea being flocked by the annoyance that is ‘the popular crew’. When she noticed me walking in with the new guy she couldn’t help but dart toward up, locking arms with me and pulling me into the desk next to hers. “Who is that and why haven’t I heard about him yet?” she demanded. “We just met chill…well maybe not just met...I think it’s…” we were interrupted as the teacher began the lesson. Minutes later I saw Andrea well-manicured hand slip a note onto my desk that read ‘explain’ I returned the note with ‘blue eyes’ on it which caused Andrea to gasp dramatically as she read it. “A note on the first day?” Mrs. Green chimed in as she walked down the aisle to retrieve the note. “Blue eyes?” She spoke to the whole class, not being able to hide my blushing I buried my head into my arms that were placed on my desk. “It looked like we’ll need seating arrangements. “Beau switch places with Andrea.” My head shot up, my heart fluttering against my ribcage. The rest of the period I kept my head held low not looking up once from my work.

As the bell rang I gathered my stuff and darted out of the class Andrea following shortly behind, once she caught up she was breathing heavy. “Will you slow down,” she grumbled. “Way to go.” I said clearly irritated. “I’m sorry…but do you really think it’s the same kid from your dads funeral?” she said in disbelief. “I know it is, we kind of talked about it.” She squinted at me, “This all happened between first period and now?” I nodded. “Well this year is going to be interesting.” She smirked as we both parted our ways.

That night I couldn’t sleep not only was I totally embarrassed about the note, I couldn’t stop thinking about that wolf. The image of those eyes were held hostage inside my brain. My mom wasn’t home tonight, probably out drinking herself into a coma or with the first rich man that would take her home. Walking downstairs, I made my way into the garage where my father’s old ’67 Chevrolet Impala sat. I always begged him to give it to me for my sixteenth birthday. Sliding into the front seat I took in that all too familiar scent of leather and my father cigars. I didn’t know how much I would miss this scent when it was gone. As I felt my eyes welting up with tears I remember what my father told me. Leaning over I searched through the glovebox, finding a letter with my name on it. “Why do I have to wait until my eighteenth birthday?” I whispered to myself and shrugged. Taking in a few more deep inhales I got out of the car noticing the small garbage that was full, picking up I brought it outside throwing it in the dumpster. As I turned around I looked toward the trees and there he was, sitting there. The same blue eyes I had been obsessing over were right there in front of me, in the distance. I waved in its direction and I felt crazy until he lowered his muzzle as if he was also saying hello. I sat on my porch swing and he laid in the grass. For some reason, I felt safe with him near, I knew he would protect me. After a few minutes, I began to doze off.

I woke up a few hours later no longer on my porch but back in my bedroom, tucked in and all. I searched the house to see if my mother was home although she would just leave me outside. I returned to the front door peeking outside, I noticed paw prints leading up to the porch swing. Rubbing my eyes I also noticed a pair of means bare footprints leading from the porch to the door. “Beau.” I whispered as I closed and locked the door behind me.

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nothing-but-kpop-dreams · 6 years

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V Drabble: Just Friends (request) (1/?)

Request: Can I get a request on being Taehyung’s best friend who isn’t girly at all but likes to watch boxing and other rough stuff and she somewhat asks him out on a date but he ends up going out with another person and stands her up....

Author’s note: ... Ok... I really loved writing this and well... I know this wasn’t part of the request BUT I AM GOING TO TURN THIS INTO LIKE A SERIES. Well idk a series, but i am for sure going to add a part or two to this. *but this first part completely fulfills the request*

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 3806

ALL PARTS

It was the usual Friday night and the two of you were kicking off the weekend with the traditional and infamous movie night. You and your best friend, Taehyung, were sitting in a sea of snack wrappers, partially engulfed in the current fight scene from the movie Kickass. The movie was Taehyung’s choice. Being that you demanded the genre of the night be action, the film still had his choice of comedy. So of course he was the one that wouldn't take his eyes off the screen while you couldn’t care less about it and just stole glances at him the whole time.

You and Taehyung had been best friends since high school. It all started when this asshole was making fun of you for wearing a guy’s t-shirt to school. That’s when Taehyung stepped in. He had just so happened to be wearing the exact same t-shirt and used that detail to “explain” that you were both wearing it as part of a couple thing. You had a secret crush on him ever since.

Fast forward almost a decade and here you were with your head rested on his shoulder, but only platonically. For the most part, you were never the nervous or timid type. You weren’t scared to tell people how you felt about them, be it good or bad, but when it came to your one and only Taetae, you were a ball of nerves. Yes, you wanted to tell him how you actually felt about him, but you just couldn’t get yourself to ever do it. It was all because you knew you weren’t his type. Tae liked girly girls, the exact opposite of what you were. You were the rough and tumble type. You kept your hair shorter, barely wore make up, only wore a dress for important occasions, mostly wore what was actually comfortable, played video games, didn't mind getting your hands dirty, never did your nails, you know, the tomboy type. While Tae on the other hand always had crushes on girls who had nice long hair, loved pink, spent all their time and money shopping for clothes, had a face caked with makeup, wore stupid heels and short skirts and tight clothes, were never outside, had long witch nails, and practically showered in expensive perfume and all the other stuff you didn't care too much for.

On top of all that, you never wanted to risk ruining your friendship with him. The two of you had been through so much together. Four years of high school and almost four years of college filled with weekends at each other’s homes, all nighters, video games and deep conversations about stupid relationship drama and you were as tight as friends as you could ever be. You just never wanted to lose someone that meant so much to you.

However as the little girl in the movie, the one with a purple wig, jump kicked some six foot dude, you just had some type of awakening. The two of you were adults now. Feelings like yours wouldn't just come between the two of you especially after years of friendship. Tae wasn't they type of guy to turn his back on you because he has never done it in the past even when you both fought. And so what if you were not his type? The girls he has dated that were “his type” never lasted more than a few months.

With this sudden burst of motivation, you knew it was now or never. You looked up at Tae. A smile grew on his face as the movie came to an end. Just as you were about to open your mouth and reveal the feelings that you had bottled up inside for 8 years, he leaned forward and grabbed the remote… letting your head slide off and pretty much letting the rest of you fall behind him.

“What do you want to see next?” he asked as he looked through the screen for another action movie.

You sat up, fixing your hair and hogging up the blanket that had been covering the two of you. Now that it was the moment of truth, anxiety filled your body and you didn't know how to orient yourself anymore.”....Tae…. Can I talk to you for a second…”

“Yeah, what about?” he asked, not really look at you but instead keeping his eyes focused on looking for another movie.

“Uh… I- uh, - i just like...hm- it’s just-” you couldn't get the words out. you were actually choking. This is what you got for never having a plan.

Tae let out a chuckle. “ You choking on some popcorn or what? Do I gotta go back there and save you?”

“No! It’s just -uh! I just really have to say something but i can't get the right words!” you grunted

With his back still at you he laughed some more “Then just say it!”

“It's just… It’s just that i- I- “

“I- I- i- du- duh- duh-, blah blah.” he mimicked. “Your talking like a baby~!” he turned back at you and pinched your cheeks “C’mon little y/n what do you want to say~” he cooed mockingly

Immediately you slapped his hand away “That i like you!” you blurted in frustration.

His face fell into an expression of shock and confused “What?”

He was the only one in the room, but it felt like you had a million eyes on you. Your stomach was doing flips and the blanket felt like fire. You didn't know you could feel this anxious around him.

“... I like you.” you repeated shyly.

“You like me?”

“... Yeah, like in the more than a friend way.” you specified

“...Oh.” was his only response.

That was when the cliche movie moment of the “ugly feeling in your gut” presented itself. You felt all types of sick. You wanted to throw up the snacks you stuffed your face with an hour ago. The longer he went without saying anything, the more sick you felt. You were so worked up even your eyes were being attacked. With every passing second, your vision was more and more blurry with nervous tears filling your eyes.

He stared back at you intensely, almost panicked. “...Y/n… I don’t know if I like you like that” he said in a hush

That’s it. It was done. Rejection. Actual rejection. “Oh.” was all you could get out but even with such a simple sound your voice cracked.

“But!” he continued. “I never really, like, thought about us in that way, you get me?”

You were doing your best to keep the stupid tears from falling. “Um, no.” you only mumbled at him.

“It’s just like, I’ve only ever seen us as friends, and I like never even thought about us like being more than that.” Those words stung a bit. “So because of that, I like, I just don't know if I like you that way back, since I just never thought of it.” even he seemed as confused as you were about what he had just said.

“So… Are you saying that, um, now that you know, that you’ll think about it now?”

“Uh, yeah! Sure that.”

“...Cool… So uh, would you want to go on a date then?”

“Date?!?”

“Yeah. Like you said, you haven't seen me in that way, so let’s go on a date and see if maybe you can.... It can be a trial date!”

“Um, yeah… yeah we can do that.” he mumbled softly.

“Really?” suddenly you felt on top of the world. “Do you want to go on Sunday? Instead of video games, we can go out to eat or something? How about olive garden? You know cuz it is like kinda fast food but also like wannabe fancy, plus endless breadsticks!”

“Um, yeah, sounds like a plan.” he said as his eyes shifted to his phone. “Oh look at the time. It’s getting kinda late.” he yawned. “I should go back to the dorm already.” he said getting up from the couch.

“Oh, but it’s only 10.” you pointed out grabbing for your own screen.

“Yeah, but remember that new curfew I told you about. Plus my mom is in town and she wants to meet up for breakfast tomorrow. We both know how early she wakes up.”

“Oh well, okay.” you stood up alongside him and followed him to the door. “So when exactly did you want to go? Is 7 a good time?”

“Yeah that's fine.” he mumbled as he slid his shoes on.

“Okay!” you smiled. “I can't wait!”

“Yeah… uh, see you Sunday.” he said, grabbing the door knob and walking out so fast he forgot to give you the usual hug bye. But you didn’t care, you were so happy to actually have a date with him.

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

That entire day of Saturday all you could think about was the date. And when that day came and went, it was finally Sunday. It was now 4pm and you were standing in front of your closet in just your underwear debating on what to wear.

You wanted to impress Tae, show him a different side of you, one that could be girly just for him. However, you didn't exactly have the right wardrobe to do that and being the broke college student you were, you didn’t have the finances either. There was just three hours before you had to meet him and you weren't even close to ready so you were definitely in a dramatic panic. You rummaged through every article of clothing in attempts to find something decent enough to be considered feminine in his eyes.

After what felt like days, all you really found was a bright yellow sunflower dress your mom bought you and had forced you to wear to an Easter party like a month ago. You didn’t have many options when it came to shoes. You kind of just liked wearing the same pair of converse every day. The only other pair of shoes you had were some white flats that you used for a job interview… those were good enough. When it came to accessories you were plain and simple, going for the gold heart pendant necklace your friend, Lisa, gave you for your birthday.Hair and make up was another story. Those were never your strong suit, so this is where all your time was eaten up. You fought your hair, doing your best to blow dry and straighten and then curl to try and give it the “natural wave” look. Thankfully your hard work was rewarded with a cute enough hairdo. And thanks to the access to internet, you spent an hour and a half trying to keep up with a ten minute makeup tutorial, but hey anything for Tae.

The bus ride to the olive garden was blur. All you could think about was how the date would go. You couldn't help but daydream about the fun you guys were going to have. You pictured starting off the date with the two of you eating until you were too full to move and then making your way to your favorite arcade to finally try and get enough tickets for the giant stuffed panda you’ve had your eyes on for almost a year.

Before you knew it you were at your stop and standing in front of the olive garden.After waiting just a minute you already kept looking around for Tae.

“Where is he?” you thought as you looked at each passing face

You had gotten there are at around 6:50, now that it was 7, the adrenaline running through you was through the roof, however Tae was nowhere in sight. “Aish, this boy. He can't be on time to save his life.” you laughed to yourself as you continued to wait for him.

After another ten minutes, the stares of the other pedestrians was beginning to annoy you, plus your feet were hurting from standing too long. You decided to go inside and get a table for the two of you. “He should be here any minute anyway.” you thought.

Inside, the kind hostess complimented your dress and led you to a table at the center of the restaurant. She tried to take your order but you let her know that you were waiting for someone.

“Oh ok.’ she smiled. “Did you want me to put the table under your name so they can just say “table for well your name” and I can bring them over?”

“Yeah! Table for y/n. Thank you.”

“Great! I’ll be back later on then, miss y/n.”That’s when you grabbed your phone to text Tae. *Hey. I’m already inside. Just tell them Table for y/n so they can take you to the right one*

You sat patiently with your water, waiting for a reply while the tables around you were filled with more and more people. Still you kept an eye out, but any one that passed by was never him. It wasn't till around 7:30 that you were starting to get a bit worried.

You decided to text him again *Hey. Is everything okay? Why aren't you here yet? Text me back please*

You waited and waited and waited and it was almost 8, but you didn't hear back from him at all. That’s when you decided to call him. You went over by the restrooms. You called, but it only rung until it got to his voicemail.In denial, you sat back at your table to just wait some more.

“Hi again miss y/n.” suddenly the hostess’ voice appeared next to you.

Immediately you looked up, hoping Tae would be besides her. But when you did, she was standing alone.

There was a look of pity on her face and you knew how bad you looked right now. “I don’t know if your um, friend? was still going to make it, but I was curious if you wanted to make your order already?” the pity was all the more obvious by her tone of voice.

You stared at her for a moment, debating whether you should just walk out now, but she was so nice. If you walked out now the other customers might think she was being rude to you or something of the sort, or she might get in trouble for letting a potential customer leave.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “Um, they just let me know they couldn't make it after all, but I’m starving, can I get a plate of chicken alfredo?”

“Gladly!”

So you continued to sit around and eat all by yourself like an idiot. You got all dressed up for nothing, made your way across town for nothing, waited around for an hour for nothing.

Yes, you were extremely upset, but you were sad more than anything. The one thing that kept you from bursting into tears was the fact that Tae wouldn’t just ditch you for no reason.

“Something probably came up.” you thought as you dragged yourself out of the place after your sad meal. “His parents are around for the weekend, so maybe they didn't let him leave so they could be with him more?”

You continued to drag your feet as you walked through downtown. The last thing you wanted to do was go home and be alone with your thoughts. The lights of the city were a good enough distraction.Being girly really isn't your thing. The back of your flats were digging into the back of your heels. You could already feel your skin getting tender with every step, but you didn't care. Neither did you care for the staring pedestrians who were very much distracted by your outfit. Yes, you were very out of place with what you wore. Your bright yellow dress really clashed with the pink and red neon signs that surrounded you. Plus, everyone else was wearing club clothes while you looked like you were going to a church party. But just like with your flats, you didn't care.

You just walked and walked and walked.You passed some pretty interesting places on your walk. You kept down a mental list of some that you would like to go to when you had the time and money. There were alot of clubs and tattoo parlors and psychic reading places, a ton of restaurants and food carts and some cute little stores.

Despite the countless distractions, the universe just seemed to hate you. Couple after lovey dovey couple passed you. They all were holding hands and hugging or make out obnoxiously against the wall. When you were passing the theater, it was like walking past a high school. Couples lined the walls cuddling or making out.

One couple in particular caught your attention. It was a tall dude and his girl. From just seeing his back, the guy’s physique was a lot like Tae’s, he even dressed the same as him too. He was just looking down at his date or girlfriend or whatever she was. She had just the tightest pink dress and despite her four inch heels she was still way shorter than him. She had long flowy brown hair. Her makeup was perfect, not too much but just the right amount. Her body was curvy and toned. She was everything you wanted to be for Tae.

Yes you were being a creep just staring at this couple from a few feet away, but you kept on staring until they inevitably started kissing. It didn't last too long though. They soon interlocked hands and turned to make their way in the direction you had been coming from.

When you saw the guys’ face, that same ugly feeling came back to you. That “random” dude was really your “best friend”. Your Taetae was holding hands with and making out with some girl (who he never even brought up before) when he was supposed to be with you. You almost couldn't believe it. It didn't feel real. Your best friend wouldn’t do this to you. He wasn't the type of person to only bail but he would never in a million years not tell you about having someone in his life. He always used to tell you about his crushes or the dates he went on. But when his eyes locked on you and you saw his face fall, you knew this was actually happening.

Tae’s eyes scanned you head to toe, almost like he didn't really recognize you, but as soon as it hit him, he let go of the girls hand. “Y/n?”

A fiery rage filled you and you marched your way up to him. “So this is why you didn't meet up with me?!?”

“Listen I- I can explain.” he started.His “date” only stood confused and slightly frightened.“I was waiting for you like a fucking idiot for a fucking hour!” you shouted.

“Y/n calm down”

“No! I wasted my fucking time for you just for you to bail on me and go off with someone else.”

“Um are you his girlfriend?” the girl in the dress butted in.

“She isn't” he answered.

His words, although the truth, stung when you heard them leave his mouth

“Oh fuck no. I was his best friend that he was supposed to meet up for date, but he decided to come here with you.” you did your best to not bite the girl’s head off. This wasn't her fault, Tae was the one to blame. “But it seems like the two of you are having a good time so i’m just gonna go. I know when i'm not wanted.” you growled locking your eyes on the boy you thought you knew.

“Y/n, y/n wait.” you heard him call after you when you tried to make your escape.

He grabbed ahold of your shoulder and that’s when you spun back around to face him. “Don’t touch me!” you spat.

“Look i’m sorry alright!”

“You’re sorry? You think an “I’m sorry” is going to fix everything?!?”

“No but-”

“You had me waiting at a stupid ass olive garden for almost 2 hours! Do you have any idea how excited i was for you to meet up with me? Do you have any idea how hurt i feel right now? I sat all by myself in a restaurant just waiting and waiting and waiting and for nothing. The whole time i was there i could feel everyone else staring at me knowing that i got stood up. Tae you are supposed to be my friend! How could you do that to me?” now was when the water works hit. The makeup you had worked so hard on was quickly getting ruined by your stupid tears.

“I didn't mean to.” was all he could say

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?!? If you didn't mean to, you would have gone! Or you would have replied back to me that you weren’t going to go to begin with!”

“I didn't go because I don't like you back alright!.” he admitted. “I didn't want to go and get your hopes up. Y/n, we have been friends for years. I love you, but not the way you love me. I see you like my sister.”

“So why didn't you tell me that before?!?”

“Because i didn't want to hurt your feelings.”

You couldn't help but let out an ironic chuckle. You looked back at him, the image of his face completely distorted with your tears. “Well how do you think i feel now?”

Tae stayed quiet. He had nothing else to say.

You continued to glare at him, noticing his own eyes getting watery

“Y/n, I’m sorry.”

“Just fuck off Tae.” you huffed before you turned around and walked away.

You stampeded your way without any sense of direction. Your vision was a blur and you walked every which way to try and lose tae in the crowd. You could hear his voice trailing behind you, but you didn't stop waking till you couldn't hear him anymore.

Instead what you began to hear was “Woah is she crying?” “Why is she crying?” “Is she okay?” “Lady you okay?” From the people you accidentally bumped into.

You couldn't handle the people anymore. All you wanted to do was go home and cry in peace, but you didn't know exactly where you were.

When the opportunity presented itself, you ran off into an empty alley and cried your heart out.

It was around 10 at night and you were squatted behind a stinky dumpster. Heartbroken and alone, this was the highlight of your night.

But that changed when you heard a voice call out to you “Y/n?”

-Admin Boat

So school started for me so idk when i will get around to posting any of the follwoing parts to this but they will be up later on

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ohailyn · 6 years

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❝ Half of me, for growth; the other, for decay. ❞ ANTOINETTE ROBERTSON? No, that’s actually AILYN WILKES. A SEVENTH YEAR student, this SLYTHERIN student is sided with THE NEUTRALS. SHE/HER identifies as A CIS WOMAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be INDIFFERENT, HAUGHTY, and SECRETIVE but also ADAPTABLE, INTELLECTUAL, and AMBITIOUS.

LINKS: stats, pinboard, character tag. CHARACTER PARALLELS: elle woods (legally blonde), cersei lannister (asoiaf), michaela pratt (how to get away with murder), sun bak (sense8) HELLO this is my babe ailyn, a pink mess of iconicness and confusing morals!!! just a heads up that this intro will contain mentions of abuse (spousal and child) and alcoholism

history

ailyn’s youth was filled with lies. her parents were skilled liars, pretenders, people who bended the truth because the truth was something nasty. her father said his business was booming, while unpaid bills kept piling up, and he kept reassuring them with alcohol on his breath and an unshaved face, that nothing was wrong, that he was fixing it all. when ailyn turned ten, he had gone bankrupt and visited the pub every day, rather than his job, and when his mother kissed him on the cheek every morning and told her kids that she loved him, she was lying, too. she smelled of others when she came home, and she was having not one, but two affairs.

and so ailyn learned that truth is a relative thing, something to bend to your own will. she learned it from her parents and continued it when she went to hogwarts, where she spoke of her father’s wonderful business and her parents happy marriage as if it was nothing but truth. she learned off their secrets before she left (and they weren’t that hard to figure out, in all truth, if you looked well — all it took was following her dad to work one day and bursting in her mother’s bedroom out of nowhere) and kept them, but added in some aspects of her own. lies became ailyn’s language at hogwarts, and she fed them to those around her with smiles.

besides, her family was doing a good fucking job at keeping the truth quiet: her maternal grandparents supplied enough money for them to continue living in their home, to afford the bare necessities, to make sure that ailyn and her brother would not show up at hogwarts looking like the poor kids they were without their grandparents. gotta love that classicism! :)

born into a family with a history of supporting voldemort, ailyn was raised with purist beliefs. her paternal grandfather died in the crossfire of the first wizarding war and his legacy runs through the veins of her father. her father, who committed purist crimes in order to steal money or things of worth, even after voldemort’s end, her father, who told her how his father was supposed to still be alive and ream the rewards of his hard work, who clung to purist ideals so desperately, that it seemed to be the only thing to keep him afloat. she believed them, for a long time, as they gave her a chance to put herself on a pedestal, and she craved that, when she was younger.

she has shed them at this point, though she doesn’t bother to speak out against it. it’s just that she’s not a very good witch – she’s smart, don’t get me wrong, incredibly intelligent, but simply not good at waving wands and muttering spells – which has put things in perspective a little. being into history and being a realist in her core has also made ailyn look at the topic of blood purity more seriously, and once she was able to think more critically and was no longer constantly surrounded by her parents, she understood how stupid purism is. it’s just illogical, based on #fakefacts and a wish to be better for no other reason than a surname ( i literally talk about this again later on so LMAO )

her younger brother does however stick with blood purity, looks up to his father, is disillusioned and blind and excited and a child, still, but a cruel one in the making. ailyn fears for him. worries about him. tries to guide him but sees no effects.

anyway, her father joined the death eaters, despite him being a bit of an … embarrassment. he used his power as a death eater to steal money and get some of that money that they’d lost because of him, not bettering his reputation among other death eaters, but regaining some of his pride as he relied less on his parents in law for money. ( though, in honesty, most of the money he stole was blown on alcohol, new suits and gambling )

[ abuse, alcoholism tw ailyn’s dad was furious at his wife, at the world, at himself. he hated that he relied on his parents-in-law for money, hated that it was his fault, hated that his wife was fucking everyone but him. he drank too much, lashed out at his wife when intoxicated, both verbally and physically. his anger turned to his kids at times, too, but was mostly aimed at his wife. ailyn despises him. deeply. end of tw’s ]

going to hogwarts was good. ailyn got to get away from home, and surround herself with others, with people who came from different places, who weren’t stuck in purist beliefs. ailyn was sorted into slytherin, for her cunning and ambition. a booksmart kid, she found herself more interested in the library and all it offered than what her classes tried to teach her. besides, ailyn found out pretty soon that she was rather bad at practical magic; she was soon behind in charms, transfiguration and DADA. she wondered if something was wrong with her wand, for a moment, wondered what was causing her to perform so poorly.

it was during these realisations, during her time away from home, that she started to step away from the purist idealisation she’d been raised with. she’d never subscribed to them much, to start with, but she hadn’t distanced herself from them, either. being away from home, surrounding herself with muggleborns, halfbloods and ‘blood traitors’, as well as her whole journey with … being rather shit at magic made her realise how fucking stupid it was

doesn’t fully share her feelings at all times, though, out of self preservation. besides, she’s not out here to fight for muggleborn rights either — she thinks the war is bullshit, frankly, but she’s also self serving as fuck, and will not do anything to endanger herself. she’s very true neutral, in that sense? can fairly judge situations, but is good at sitting back even if she disapproves. will start debates on blood purity, but isnt about to fight a war over it, on either side.

history soon became her favourite subject. ailyn found herself staying up late in the common room, learning about muggle history, but also delving into obscure parts of magical history, wanting to know more more more about the ways humans changed the course of the world, how cruel and kind people could be all at once. she’s very intrigued by what drives people, which is ironic, as not much drives ailyn morally LMAO.

this is where her ambition lies, where her strengths lie. ailyn wants to work under a historian, learn about how to write about history – because it’s happening all around her – how to interpret it, how to connect the dots. she’d love to intern under bathilda bagshot, or someone similar. she’s such a NERD.

her relationship with her family has become strained. ailyn hates her father, and despises her mother. her brother is a different story — there’s more love there, i suppose, a healthy relationship, but they disagree on many things. he wants to join the ranks of the death eaters once he’s old enough, whereas she’s been lucky enough not to be considered due to her lack of skill (in the eyes of both her father and the death eaters in general) and is glad of it.

ailyn is cordial with her family. she doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of turning her back on them but also doesnt want to participate in the large amount of lies that already surround their family. she’s not in the mood to be labeled a blood traitor or anything. she may not believe in purism but she’s not a good person --- she’s indifferent and apathetic and cares about herself and a handful of people, and so she will keep her opinions carefully locked up while making the world her own.

she mostly just wants to graduate, start studying to become a historian and move the fuck away lmao. a new start, with new chances and a whole new world for her to conquer. she’s Tired tm of the death eaters, as theyre just a product of another white man’s idiocy, like so many negative things in the world --- she’s got no energy for it.

personality and tidbits

ailyn is a true neutral, powder pink lipstick lesbian who will drag your ass through the mud while speaking to you sweetly with a :) smile :). she has a mean streak and her nature isnt necessarily malicious but she can be when she chooses to. this streak most often shows itself in front of people that ailyn thinks lesser of/people that annoy her. there’s a lot of those

she’s just ... tired. tired of humanity and all the people around her and the ruckus theyre causing. ailyn just wants people to Chill Out and use their heads in stead of whatever’s motivating them ( their genitals, hearts, stomachs, whatever ). she feels very ... Genius LMAO because she’s such a realist and she thinks she has the world all figured out when, obviously, she doesnt.

ailyn is very sure of herself, incredibly confident --- sometimes too confident ( though she��s of the opinion that girls can never be to confident ) and in turn she can be condescending and haughty. she’s self aware, though, about most things. she knows where her strengths and weaknesses lie and has made peace with it, even knows that she’s arrogant and harsh, but doesn’t care much.

a gamp on her mother’s side and cousin to gemma!

ailyn is hyperfeminine, believes in lethal femininity and the colour pink. very much elle woods in that sense --- she loves fashion and make up and velvet high heels and looking good, but has a ready mind that she’ll apply to reach her goals at any given moment in time. will Not be underestimated because she’s girly. a firm believer in the matriarchy. lover of womanhood.

she also ... just thinks lowly of men a lot. like --- her dad’s a deadbeat idiot alcoholic broke dude and he Sucks, and then there’s people like grindelwald and voldemort and a long string of ministers, prime ministers and presidents that just proof that men shouldnt be in power to her LMAO. her interest in history is mostly just ailyn sighing at the deeds of men and how they continue to disappoint her.

would love to enter the ministry one day and be a politician, but for now her focus lies on becoming a historian, as that seems like a logical first step. also, the ministry is a mess at the moment that ailyn doesnt want to be a part of LMSFKJHSD.

loyal to first and foremost herself, a true self-serving queen. though, if she is your friend, you do have a loyal person on your side who will be ride or die. will kill for you. will bury a body with you.

absolutely adores mythology especially because most stories prove that men ain’t shit and because there’s iconic characters like medusa and athena and persephone and many more

medusa is ... in general a character that ailyn very much loves and is intrigued by --- a hurt woman, mistreated and abuse because of her gender and nothing more, turned into someone who could protect herself, only to be labeled a monster and murdered ... she’s endlessly angry and intrigued.

captain of the history club!! she loves history sm :( come geek out w her

also a member of the debate club!! while she shies away from speaking on purism, she does have a lot of vocal opinions on sexism/queerphobia/racism/etc and is very knowledgeable on political topics!!!

always tired of everyone and everything

loves rose & vodka.

#iidyintro #DONE w the reposts now yeet

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tumblunni · 6 years

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Weirdass Real Cis AF Conversation going on downstairs

"Oh my daughter's wedding yeah i want the girliest dress yeah she loves girly stuff. Like even when she was a baby she'd always wear frilly petticoats."

Like..umm.. You put her in those clothes...?

Serioudly she was on about how she bought a whole fancy old fashioned petticoat for a literal one year olf including frilly knickers, and how THE DAUGHTER IN QUESTION said she didnt want to raise her own kids so heavily gendered from such a young age as she was, but the mom was like "oh just wait til theyre born and you see them! You'll totally understand! Mommy instincts blablabla!"

Like wow i've never seen talk of these certain type of baby underwear instincts before. Seriously man that must be so uncomfortable for a literal one year old in a diaper to have frilly scratchy stuff everywhere?? And like an eight layer petticoat she cant even run around in?? Like if you're really insistant on only buying stereotypically feminine clothes you could just go to the actual baby clothes aisle and pick up something pink? Man it must have been hell for the mom too, to get all that stuff off every time a diaper needs changing!

And then seriously how can you say 'oh my daughter liked that and my son would never like that' when theyre both too young to even say their first word? Of course theyre gonna wear whatever you put on them, they cant exactly fight you off! They dont even have object permenance or a concept of what dresses ARE, let alone the social implications of fashion and gender roles! I just wanted to interrupt and be like "oh your son doesnt like it? So you've let him try it? And you've let your daughter try other outfits too?"

And It doesnt really bloody sound like the daughter liked being dressed that way as a kid if she argued with you about doing it to her own kid. And she was all laughing about "oh lol my son was always covered in sick instead of his clothes, he'd always pull them off haha Boys Amirite". Dude your kid is just a nebulous blob of vague comprehension of the world. Both of them would be running around being 'little terrors' if both of them could run! And serioudly thats just how much babies HATE clothes at first, they dont know why they have to wear a thing around their neck and chest or why its bad to take it off. Can you imagine how much more fidgety a kid would be in the most over the top petticoat nonsense? And not being able to crawl or run or play because she's not allowed to get stains on the stupid thing?

Ugh man i wore a frilly petticoat like that when i was a kid up to around age 6 or 7. Because it was all i had and my parents decided what i wore every day. And i didnt know that some things were 'girly' or 'manly' let alone that i was trans yet! Well i mean i guess i kind of still was me but i didnt know to feel bad about it cos i didnt know boys couldnt wear this or girls had to wear this. I just had no feelings on it except that it was annoyyyyying to wait thru all this long process of putting it on each morning and i'd fidget like hell. And then it was uncomfortable and i just had to get used to it because i thought ALL clothes were just as bad? I liked how the skirt fanned out if i ran but i hated that i wasnt supposed to run in it. And i still tried to run around and climb trees and roll in the grass and hide behind the sofa and make forts and be a "little terror" even when i kept getting told off for "ruining" my good clothes. And i think thats where i started my general hatred of shoes cos those fancy dress shoes were so tight and cut up the back of my feet. I'd take them off as soon as my parents werent watching! And theyd all swear that i "loved" having my hair tied back in a ribbon even though i'd cry about people tpuching and pulling my hair and then keep conveiniently losing the ribbon by the end of the day. Seriously bad parents will just make up a personality for you and never bother to actually ask you! Like i mean i dunno of this lady is a bad parent just cos she believes in kinda exaggerated gender stereotypes, but my parents did and yeah it reminded me of they who were very much not good :/

OH MAN LOL its funny looking back on how my parents were ~so concerned~ at my ~sudden phase~ of hating dresses and choosing to wear "boy clothes" literally AS SOON AS I LEARNED THERE WERE OTHER OPTIONS. And they still chose everything i wore so i'd just have to go for the least feminine of the bunch and like ignore half of the closet until they got the hint. Imagine like entire years of slowly getting slightly more neutral clothes until eventually i had one singular t shirt. Still with care bears on it. And as soon as i actually got to choose my own clothes i was totally off on the me train! "What has caused this alarming new trend out of nowhere?" Asks zero memory mom, who was complaining about the same damn thing every time i did anything non girly for the last decade. Also they complained that i was "less vibrant and happy and didnt run around like you did as a kid" despite the fact they friggin punished me for running around and not being a demure young girl :/

And then there's the whole subject of how all babies regardless of gender wore frilly smocks and bows in victorian times. It was still considered unmasculine for a grown man but it was like in an "immature" sense. It was called the breeching of the child, i think? That age when you get old enough to start wearing pants, it was treated as a lil life milestone celebration. There's loads of other stuff like that of our ideas of masculine and feminine clothing switching sides throughout history! Baby blue was considered the primary feminine colour for a long time, and pink was just considered a shade of manly red. High heels and tights were both invented as male fashions,and you see LOADS of regency era men wearing them in portraits! They only became degraded as a women only thing because crossdressing women would wear them and society had a homophobic transphobic panic and decided to abandon the trend. And over time it was all forgotten and the idea morphed into a 'ultinate symbol of straight femininity' just like it was the ultimate straight masculinity before...

So yeah lol sorry i just overheard a very stupid excuse for why imposing super over the top gender roles on a kid is ~totally good~ and i just went off on a brain thought train about the whole subject. I guess im still a bit upset from the whole transphobic mess yesterday and im probably judging this lady a bit too harshly.

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that-terrible-writer · 7 years

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You Never Know

At last, the next part of this series. I hope there will be a fire that lights this imagine and I pray I know what direction I know it’s going. For all the asking for this part, I hope 3K will fill you up with your Steve needs. Like always: hope it’s to your liking. It’s also past midnight here as I proofread it and post this, so there maybe me not making any sense in this. There is a high chance of that.

Part 9

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

| Steve Harrington x Reader |

Requested: “thank steve *god* you're gonna come back soon i feel empty without my weekly dose of you never know”

“One of the best series of Stranger Things!!!!”

“you never know is the best thing ive read i am dead serious more dead than barb”

"Sit still," You mumbled. You sat on the couch, in your home, with him by your side. You pressed a cotton pad with rubbing alcohol near his eye socket, causing him to flinched once it made contact with his skin. He kept squirming, trying to tear his face away from you. You placed your hand on the opposite side of his face, making at least his head to stand still.

"So Eight and her gang were at the gas station," Chief Hopper confirmed, sitting across from the two of you. You both decided that enough was enough and you agreed that Hopper had the right to know what was going on. "And she's looking for Jane?"

"Who?" Steve asked, letting out another yelp as you went into his cut with another cotton pad.

"Eleven," He corrected himself, "She was looking for Eleven." Hopper continued to scribble down everything in his notepad, making sure he understood everything. He stood aiming his pen towards Steve and his cut-up left eye, "What happened here?" Hopper questioned.

Steve glanced over at you, pressing his lips together into a thin line. He huffed, rubbing the tip of his nose, "I got punched by one of the goonies." Steve spat.

As clear as day, there the five of you were standing face-to-face with Eight and her gang. "Dustin, Max, Lucas," You uttered softly, waving your hand towards you. You were able to grasp Dustin's arm to pull him back behind you and Steve as Max and Lucas comprehended. Eight stared straight at you, her fist already balling as she took a step forward.

Steve didn't think twice before stepping in front of you again, blocking Eight from getting close to you. "Well look what we have here," A tall man with a mohawk, with the tips dyed pink, had snickered, "Ponyboy here is trying to be a hero." Steve tighten his fist.

You tugged lightly on his arm, getting closer to his ear, "Steve, let's just go." You murmured to him. Your hand slid down his arm, to make it's way to his hand; lacing your fingers together. The moment that you had turned to leave, the door slammed shut, scaring you all.

"She shut the door!" Dustin screeched, grabbing onto your other arm. You turned to stare at Eight, seeing the same nosebleed that Eleven had gotten when she used her powers.

"I won't ask again," Eight spat, brushing the bit of blood onto her jacket, "Where is my sister?'

"I think I would remember a British-Indian girl in our town," You quipped but could help yourself from laughing at your remark, "We're not what you call a well diverse town." It seemed it had gotten under Eight's skin, having her shift her weight onto her other leg, a frown coming across her face.

It caused Eight to come sprinting towards your direction. Steve shoved Eight away, "We don't know who you're talking about." Steve tried to say calmly.

A blonde girl, with frizzed out hair, let out a giant roar of laughter. She watched Steve intensely, "How long are you going to keep up with this? What do you take us for? Idiots?"

"Yeah," Max thoughtlessly let out, causing Lucas and Dustin to try and stifle their laughs. You quickly smacked the back of their heads, knowing that it was not the time to crack jokes. Even though you had the equal amount of people, you didn't have equal amount when it came to strength.

You had remembered what Eleven said, 'She makes you believe what isn't really there. It's not real.' You decided to push back Dustin towards the 'closed' door. You kept pulling on to Steve's hand, to bring him with you; walking slowly backward to escape. The girl with the fro looked annoyed, tilting her head towards their leader, "They're not going to talk." She informed her boss.

"Seems that way." Eight softly replied. She pointed to the punk dressed boy, "Maybe if we take one of Jane's friends, she'll come to us." Your eyes widen, fully blocking yourself from the middle schoolers.

"Over my dead body," You snapped. You let go of Steve's hand, straighten your spine as you stood taller; your eyes narrowing at Eight. "You will not go near them."

Eight couldn't help but be entertained by your reaction, "Oh, so you're not just a dumb girlfriend." Eight looked over at her gang, nodding them off, "Get them." She ordered. Steve looked at you quickly only to turn to Max, throwing her the keys.

"Go!" Steve commanded, turning back to shove off the mohawk guy. You went towards the blonde girl, shoving her away from the exit; you tried your best blocking the door with the help of Steve. You could hear Steve's car start, knowing that the three made it inside of it with no problem at all.

"You really got a lot of nerve, girly," Eight grumbled, taking a swing at you. You succeeded to dodge the punch but it wasn't until the blonde sucker punched you, causing you to stumble. You gritted your teeth, taking a shot at the blonde; landing one punch to her right eye. You rubbed the blood away, that was coming from your split lip, trying to collect your breath.

"Y/N!" You heard Steve scream. You quickly turned in his direction to see that the bigger black man, with the ponytail, had tried to attack you by behind but Steve had taken the blow for you. Steve fell immediately to the floor, making you rush to his side. You placed your hands on the side of his face, scanning all over his face to see if he was alright. He was bewildered, not responding right away. Steve had taken a punch to the cheek, causing the skin to open and blood already drawing out from the wound.

"Steve? Steve, are you ok?" You panicked, sweeping his hair out of his face. Steve's eyes gradually looked up at yours, making him smile as if nothing had happened. You couldn't help but smile back. You turned slightly, glaring at Eight, where they were circling around the two of you.

"We'll do a lot worse if you don't help us out," The punk chuckled, pleased at the outcome of the fight. You heard a faint sound of police sirens, alarming everyone in the 7/11. You looked towards the counter to see a frightened clerk behind the counter, peeping at everyone. You took in a breath of relief, knowing that Hopper was on his way.

"Looks like you got lucky," Eight mumbled, looking down at you, "Don't think this is close to over." The gang promptly left the convenience store to make their getaway. You pulled Steve in for a hug; a way that you knew would soothe you quickly and giving you a sense of security.

"Alright," Hopper placed the last period into his notepad. He headed towards the front door, stopping in his tracks to turn on his heel; point his finger at the both of you. "If you see them again, you go back to your house ― any house ― and call me. You're lucky it was just a punch to the face: both of you. Don't need you two to be thinking you're Superman and Wonder Woman." Hopper scolded. He left, leaving you and Steve alone― again.

You placed a gauze on Steve's cut, finally finish cleaning it thoroughly. You were putting back the bandages back into the First-Aid tin and you couldn't help but feel a gaze on you. You glanced over to see Steve staring at you, with that same small smile he wore when he was on the floor at the 7/11. "What?" You chuckled, going back to rearranging everything in the tin.

"You didn't have to include what Eight said about you being my girlfriend," Steve hummed, his smile getting bigger. You gently shoved Steve's arm, trying to push him away to create some distance away from the both of you. You could already feel your face heating up, knowing that he was right.

"You have to include everything in a police report." You tried to defend. Steve took away the First-Aid, placing it on the coffee table. The moment his hands reached for yours, you jumped to your feet, bouncing in place; trying to shake away from your nerves. Steve wasted no time, joining you, removing himself off from the couch. He ran his hand through his locks, something that made your heart jump instantly. "Does this really make you nervous?" He asked you, lifting an eyebrow as he wiggled his pointer finger between you and him.

"Maybe?" You suspected, unsure of yourself. You rubbed your face, letting out a deep breath. You dropped your hands, tilting your head, "Is that weird?" You didn't let Steve answer, you let out a weird shriek, covering your face again. You had bent your body over, staring at the floor and your feet, "Why am I being so weird about this?" You asked out loud.

You saw Steve's feet come into view, across from your own. You stood up straight, dropping your hands to your side. Your brows furrowed, your eyes pleading towards Steve. Your expression caused him to laugh, trying to contain it to go any longer than needed. He covered his mouth, trying to restrain his chuckles and giggles from escaping. He looked down at you, removing his hand from his mouth; just to have it rest on your cheek.

"It's ok to be nervous," He assured you. He dipped his head, inches away from yours, lips lightly brush as his breath was drying out your lips. You couldn't look away from him, his eyes captivated you and you could see the emotion that he had been showing you for so long: love. "We can be nervous about this together." He finished.

You shoved Steve away, giving him a playful smile. "Seriously, Steve? You ruined the mood for that cheesy line?" You snickered.

"Trying to be Casanova over here," He hit his chest with his hands, making another joke to lighten the mood. You went to push his chest once more but he quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards his chest. His lips quickly found yours, surprising you at first but you were quick to return the love. His hold on your wrist had loosened, letting it go so that you could move both hands to his cheeks. Each kiss, one after another, had been more passionate than before.

Steve slowly back his way, making sure you didn't leave his side, back to the couch. He sat back down, pulling you to straddle his lap. His hands roamed your body, taking his time to run them all over, feeling every curve and dip you had to offer. You felt him smile when his hand went up your shirt, resting his hand on your bare stomach. The heat that his hand gave off, made your insides turn, forcing you to flip Steve's position. Falling onto the couch and pulling Steve down, making him be the dominant one in the situation.

"I love you, Y/N," Steve moaned, both hands rest on your hip. He lifted you lightly, causing you to squeal, as he pulled you a little bit lower on the couch so that he could press himself against you even more. His kisses went to your neck, nipping at the skin that earned him small moans; letting him know that he was satisfying you more than what Billy was doing.

Steve drew away from your neck to stare at you, once more. Your face was flush as was his. Both of you excited, knowing where this was leading. You decided to encourage the mood once more, pulling down his head to kiss you once more.

A loud knock came from your front door, causing Steve to launch himself away from you. He dreaded that it was your parents, knowing what you the two of you were doing and had knocked to show a sign that they were coming into the house. You tried your best to fix your hair, your outfit; you even slapped your cheeks to try and settle the redness that Steve caused.

When you opened the door, your heart dropped seeing who it was. "Billy," You weakly got out, seeing Billy lean against the door frame, with his lit cigarette dangling from between his lips. He looked up, the moment he locked eye contact with you, a smile came across his lip. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see my favorite girl," He cooly said, trying to take a step into your house but you blocked him from entering, trying to keep him out of sight from Steve, "You drank so much at the party, I didn't see you leave. I was worried."

"Oh, right," You tried to smile back at him, "I got a ride back home from Nancy and Jonathan." Billy kept watching you intensely, stretching his hand out to touch your eye. At the slightest touch of his hand, caused you to wince in pain due to the bruise that was already occurring.

"Was that from the party?" Billy asked. His voice had gotten darker, causing you to already feel small. You played with your fingers, looking away from Billy. He grabbed your chin, making you look to the side as he examined your black eye, "Who touched you?"

"There were thugs at the convenience store," You described, waving your hands around, trying to get your chin away from his grip, "They were strating trouble and I happened to get in the middle of it." You couldn't stand still, everytime his grip gotten tighter, you kept wiggling in your spot to try and distract you from the pain. "Billy, stop," You complained, you felt your eyes watered as the pain escalated, "You're hurting me."

You saw Billy's eyes look beyond your shoulder, a smirk placed once again on his lips. He finally released his grip, fascinated by the person behind you. You rubbed your chin, stepping away from Billy. Billy took out the cigarette, blowing out smoke, "Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?" He chuckled. He threw the cigarette onto your porch, stepping into your house to stand face-to-face with Steve.

Steve placed his hands on his hip, hanging his head slightly as he stared at the man that he loathed. "Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants." Steve sighed, knowing that Billy was going to make this conflict a bigger deal than it was.

Billy's hand motioned to your eye, "Did you do this to my girl?" He chuckled, his smile never leaving his face. It scared you and you looked over at Steve worried. You were honestly scared at what Billy might do to Steve, getting the wrong idea.

"If you don't see," Steve motioned to his eye, "I got a matching one as well. His and hers, you might say." Steve joked. You shut your eyes, knowing that what Steve had said was the wrong thing to respond to Billy. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Billy had charge towards Steve, clutching onto his shirt. You rushed over trying to pry Billy's hands off of Steve.

"Billy, let him go!" You begged. You did everything you could since you couldn't open Billy's hands; you tried pushing him away from Steve. Billy took one hand, shoving you away from him so that he could focus on his anger towards Steve.

"I thought I told you not to hang with this pussy, Y/N," Billy reminded you. Your eyes widen, as Billy turned to look at you. He shook Steve lightly, letting out a laugh that sent a chill down your spine, "You do remember what I told you what I would do if I found out if you were hanging out with him again."

"Billy, please don't," You let out weakly, your tears already started to fall; your words getting stuck in the back of your throat. Your body shook when you saw Billy's fist make contact with Steve's face. You let out a scream, rushing over to try and pull back Billy's arm to restrain him from hitting Steve any further.

Steve didn't fight back, all he did was try and push Billy away but never did he raise a fist back. It took all the strength in him to not punch back. To not sink to his level of jealousy. You backed away, continuing to watch Billy beat Steve. Steve's face had gotten bloody; his lip was cut as was his brow.

You felt a fire start in your stomach, one that had been growing since you've seen Billy mistreat Steve. You balled your fist, grinding your teeth; taking in a deep breath. You let out a cry while you swung your fist to make contact with Billy's jaw. It took every ounce of courage and power you had, that cause Billy to finally let go of Steve. He stumbled, touching his jawbone, surprised at your action.

"Get out." You ordered. Your breath was uneasy, you could feel your hand tremble from the anger that was released. Billy smirked, backing away slowly.

"This isn't over, Harrington," Billy grumbled. His eyes flickered towards yours, sending you a wink, "Save that passion for the bedroom, baby doll." Billy left, shutting the door behind him; slamming it to make it clear how pissed he was at you.

You turned to Steve, seeing blood drip down his face; him groaning in pain. You moved him back to the couch, sitting him down. You sat with him, taking the First-Aid tin back from the table. Steve shifted his position on the sofa, having him lower himself to place his head on your lap. It made it clearer for you to clean his new obtained cuts and bruises.

"Steve?" You softly said his name, noticing him starting to drift off into a slumber while you cleaned his face.

"Hm?" Steve hummed. His eyes were already shut, enjoying your touch on him even though it wasn't the best he had looked. You moved your hand down to his, giving it a light squeeze.

"I love you too." Hoping he heard the four words that he had been waiting for you to say.

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #Stranger things #Joe Keery #Joe Keery Imagine #joe keery x reader #billy hargrove

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