#im not even a woman. but i know that i definitely present as one

[kidfoundonstreets]

why is it so scary to be a fucking woman you reject a guy and now you're scared of being murdered

[capaldiera]

i started reading this fucking out of character thick of it fanfic like a week ago bc even tho i could tell from first glance it was going to be ooc i was just curious and it sounded kind of funny slash tragic. (how are you tagging grief child death domestic violence attempted suicide on a ttoi fic hello?) and i dooo like complaining And for the most part if it weren't supposed to be about those guys it would just be pretty good so im not Regretting it? but i didn't realise how many stories were in the series and im probably 150k words in. and not much more than halfway through

[ellecdc]

Mother, i had a request but i forgot what it was 😭😭 i was sooo excited tooo 😫

But in trying to remember i had another brilliant idea!!

Reader x Reggie where theyre both stoic, slightly volatile 🐍 but theyre actually really soft and mushy. And then SURPRISE!! Theyre actually also dating Remus who takes care of them and is super protective. Maybe its revealed near the full moon and possessive Moony makes an appearance.

Siri is flabberghasted; Barty is horrified his darling sweethearts are be defiled; James is shook; and Lily is yhe ultimate bro and super proud of Rem.

Anyway, im sorry your computer was so mean to you. I hope you're looking after yourself 🩵🩵

......this is going to go down in history as my most controversial post........😈 may I present to you.....poly!MoonWater 😈😈😈😈😈

poly!moonwater x fem stoic!reader (i.e., Remus Lupin x Regulus Black x reader)

Sirius Black was admittedly currently going through a hard time.

Now, depending on who you asked, one (literally everyone and anyone) might say it was his own fault.

But if you asked Sirius Black? It was everyone else and their insufferable happiness that was to blame.

His insufferable best-friend-that-anyone-could-ever-ask-for finally landed the woman of his dreams and said woman of previously mentioned best friend was horribly in love with the sod.

Even his baby brother was happy! Which seemed like an oxymoron because in looking at Regulus Arcturus Black, one would assume that boy had never known a single moment of happiness in his life.

If one took into account their childhoods, they’d be right.

But Regulus Black, who was quiet in a way that made you feel like you were always being judged and ridiculed (you were) who very rarely had a kind thing to say about anyone had found happiness (read: a girl) who, for all intents and purposes, could be his personality doppelganger.

One difference, however, was that you were quiet in a way that always had one feeling like you knew too much, saw too much, and you were far too perceptive for anyone’s good. You always seemed to be analyzing the people around you and Sirius, sue him, found that incredibly disconcerting. 

He did not wish to be known, thank you very much. 

And even Moony! Moony, the bastard, was seeing someone! Fucked if Sirius knew who though because the sod wouldn't tell anyone who they were. He just kept popping back to the dorm room covered in hickies and looking far too pleased with himself whilst offering no details.

He was even spending entire nights away from the dorm, and always made sure he had the sodding map with him so they couldn’t even see where he was.

So yeah, Sirius was pissed.

And before you ask – no, it’s not because he was lonely – in fact, he had frequent visitors in his bed thank you very much.  And NO, he didn’t want to discuss the fact that perhaps if he didn’t run at the first sign of commitment or emotional intimacy, he too would have happiness. 

Perhaps he just wanted everyone else to be slightly less happy for his own sake.

Did no one ever think about Sirius Black?

Give right now for example. He and Regulus had been...hanging out (if that’s what you could call the two of them sitting together not speaking as they each did their own homework) since Sirius insisted it was important to do so, especially since Sirius no longer lived at home meaning that their usual means of brotherly bonding (read: trauma) no longer took place. 

And then James showed up (he was so lucky Sirius loved him) who was but of course accompanied by Lily Evans (she was so lucky she’s as lovely as she is) which turned into a small James Potter roast on account of Regulus and Lily both having years’ worth of material from hating him up until recently, and Sirius had loads of material on account of him being a certified hater. 

And then Moony showed up, and if Sirius didn’t know any better, he had definitely been fooling around mere moments ago.

But Sirius did know better.

“Moony, what broom closet did you just crawl out of and where’s the poor soul that was stuck in there with you?” He spat.

Remus merely chuckled and pulled a book out of his bag, making himself comfortable in one of the library’s grandfather chairs. “No one was stuck anywhere with me.”

“No, I’m sure they were a very willing participant.” Regulus drawled, looking particularly bored for all intents and purposes, never bothering to lift his gaze from his book.

“No need to be jealous, baby Black. You’re more than welcome to join me in such broom closets.” Remus joked with a wink.

“Oi!” Sirius swatted at Remus on behalf of his brother (he’s welcome). “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, and he’s taken thank you very much.”

“Merlin knows how,” James muttered none too quietly, “it’s not like he’s very approachable.”

Regulus lifted a lazy eyebrow as he looked at James from above the pages of his book. “I’ll have you know I’m very approachable to those I wish to be approached by.”

“Hi Reggie!” 

“Get fucked.” Regulus called back to Barty Crouch Junior, hardly sparing his best friend a glance as he approached him from behind. 

“Wow, Reggie’s in a good mood today, huh?” Barty said as he sat on one arm of Regulus’ chair, causing James to laugh until he realized that Barty wasn’t joking.

Suddenly another body showed up and gently sat on the other arm of Regulus’ chair.

Sirius watched as Regulus’ impassive face completely cleared of all contempt and he looked up at you with pure and unadulterated adoration.

It made Sirius sick. 

“Bonjour, mon cheri.” He murmured softly, in complete contrast to the harsh, militarized way he had previously been spitting at everyone else. 

You smiled gently at the boy as you pulled a notebook out of your book bag and produced a small, pressed flower, handing it to Regulus between your thumb and forefinger.

Regulus looked at it like you had just presented him with a hundred-year-old bottle of fire-whiskey.

“Did you pick this for me?” He asked gently, plucking the flower from your fingers with matching delicacy.

You offered him a quiet ‘mhm’ and Sirius noticed a shy smile grace your lips. Regulus’ eyes moved from the flower to your face, and he gazed at you like you had hung the moon.

“Merci, mon amour.” He said reverently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Lily looked at the two of you with a smile one might see on the face of a proud mother, James looked at the two of you like he was seeing a bowtruckle for the first time, and Remus looked oddly taken with the show of affection. Barty was apparently the only other sane one amongst them – oh gods, maybe Sirius really was losing it.

“Where the fuck has this Regulus been the last six years?” Barty muttered incredulously. 

Without much effort on your part, you reached over Regulus’ shoulder and shoved Barty off the arm of the chair and onto the floor before sliding to sit directly in Regulus’ lap.

“You...alright, Crouch?” James called tentatively from his place on the other side of the couple. 

“Oh, I’m fine. That’s just how she shows her love.” Barty said as he bounced back up, completely unperturbed. 

“Is it now?” Sirius asked, tone dripping with sarcasm. Remus swatted Sirius’ leg with his book.

“What?” Sirius squawked.

“Be nice.” He chided.

“I am nice! And why do you care?” Sirius argued, though he never got an answer. 

“I think they’re cute.” Lily announced, sending a sly smirk towards Remus.

“See? Lily gets it.” Remus said with a shrug as he went back to his book.

Sirius hated every single one of them.

But if Sirius thought that had been rough, he had no idea what was in store for him today. 

Sirius, Remus, Peter, James and... Lily had all been sitting at the Gryffindor table during dinner when Sirius noticed you rushing into the Great Hall looking rather frazzled.

“Whoa, what’s going on with Y/N?” Peter asked, apparently having noticed you at the same time as Sirius.

The conversation stopped abruptly as Remus’ head snapped towards the entrance, seemingly on high alert upon hearing of your arrival.

Sirius watched as you scanned the Hall before your eyes fell on their group. Your face crumpled in misery, and you rushed over. You were usually so polished and poised, any and all emotions locked away behind a well-fitted mask, no wonder you and Regulus got along so well.

Regulus...something must have happened to Regulus. Sirius had a dreadful feeling settle in the pit of his stomach; what could have happened to make you rush up to him looking that alarmed?

Except...you breezed right past him.

“What’s wrong, lovebug?” Remus cooed quietly, causing Sirius to choke on his own spit.

“He was hurt during practice.” You cried quietly, voice no more than a whisper as you moved to step between Remus’ spread legs where he had rotated on the bench to face you. His hands landed on the back of your thighs were his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your tight clad legs.

“Okay. How hurt?” Remus asked just as quietly, ignoring the sputtering happening from James, the chuckling from Lily, and the horrified expression painting Sirius’ face.

“Dislocated shoulder.” You cried miserably, as if you’d just been told Regulus was damned to spend the rest of his life in a vegetative state.

Remus’s mouth looked like it was fighting really hard to smile as his eyes pooled with equal parts fondness, worry (for you or Regulus, Sirius wasn’t sure at this moment), and no shortage of love.

What the fuck was going on right now!? 

“What the fuck is going on right now!?” Sirius demanded, his outside voice echoing the one inside of his head.

You startled a little at his exclamation, leaning closer into Remus who increased his embrace around you. 

“What’s happening dear padfoot, is it appears your brother has been injured during quidditch practice. Perhaps you ought to go see how he is?” Remus taunted as he continued running soothing hands over your body.

“Yeah, yeah; the sky is blue, and people get hurt in quidditch. Now what is this!?” He screeched gesturing wildly at the two of you. 

You looked equal parts embarrassed from the attention and equal parts wanting to tell Sirius off for downplaying what you clearly thought was some great upheaval in Regulus’ life when Lily spoke up.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice, Pads.”

His mouth dropped open as he turned to regard his best friend’s girlfriend with a look of pure betrayal.

“Et tu, Lily!?” Sirius cried as James sputtered, “you knew!?”

Remus just smiled as he shoved his nose into your collarbone. You brought up a hand to begin scratching at his scalp, and Sirius was certain the sods leg would be thumping in contentment if he were a dog.

“Let’s go, Sirius.” Remus finally muttered, interrupting an argument that was going nowhere between James, Lily, and Sirius. “You’ve got a brother in the hospital wing.”

You hurried on ahead of them, clearly not interested in the talk the two friends were about to have.

“So, are you fucking my brother too or just fucking him over by screwing his girl?” Sirius finally spat with his arms crossed petulantly over his chest. 

Remus groaned and looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength to get through this conversation with Sirius Drama Queen Black. “Sirius, can you ask me a question that’s less likely to get me punched in the face?”

“No.” Sirius muttered. 

“He’s happy, Sirius. I promise.” Remus pressed. “He...he really deserves all the love he’s getting.”

And Sirius would have been an absolute arse if he’d had anything to say in response to that...

Don’t get him wrong, Sirius was an arse and did have many things to say in response to that, but the words died on the tip of his tongue when they walked into the hospital wing to see you sitting on the end of Regulus’ hospital bed.

Regulus, save the sling holding his arm to his chest and the fact that he was sitting in a hospital bed, looked as casual as Sirius ever remembered seeing him, smiling at you with...

Love.

A lot of love. 

“I’m fine, amour, I promise.” They heard him plead with you as they approached.

“Still have all your limbs, I see.” Remus commented as he walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to Regulus’ hair, causing the youngest Black to blush something fierce as he looked over at Sirius. 

“I’m sure she told you I was comatose.” He commented quietly, turning and offering you a wink.

“Don’t tease me...” You moaned, looking very much like you still wanted to fold Regulus up and put him in your pocket for safe keeping.

“Yeah, don’t tease her, love. You’d be sitting in this hospital bed all on your lonesome with no one you dote on you otherwise.” Remus jokingly chided. 

“Love.” Sirius groaned with a dramatized gag. 

“Oh, grow up, Siri.” Regulus barked.

Sirius’ head snapped over to his brother at the sound of his childhood nickname. Regulus’ cheeks were still dusted pink, whether it be at the unplanned outing of his relationship, being hurt, or the gravity of this moment.

Regulus hadn’t called him that since they were children...like, real children before the trauma, the alienation, the disinheritance, the running away...

Perhaps because Regulus had spent all of that time living in unmeasurable pain. Just like Sirius had.

And maybe, now...Regulus had people who made him feel brave enough to be vulnerable like this, to reconnect in ways he long thought impossible. 

Fuck Moony and his good naturedness; Sirius hated that Remus was right about this. 

“Oh, fucking Godric.” Sirius muttered petulantly as he pulled Regulus into a bone crushing hug.

Literally.

“Sirius!” Regulus groaned before Sirius was ripped away from his brother. Sirius expected Remus to be the one throwing him to the floor for inadvertently hurting Regulus’ injury...but it was you. 

“You idiot.” You hissed as new tears formed in your eyes, immediately moving to grab the ice pack from the bedside table and gently placing it on Regulus’ shoulder.

Remus and Regulus looked at you with so much adoration, Sirius was certain hearts were going to start pouring out of their eyes and floating around their heads.

“I’m fine, thanks!” He called out as he hauled himself up off the floor. 

“Oh good.” You said sarcastically.

“I don’t like this.” Sirius grumbled, causing all three faces to turn to him.

“Pads...”

“Sirius, please.” Regulus implored.  

“What if you break his heart?” He asked no one in particular. “What if you hurt my baby brother? Who am I supposed to support then? Or you; what am I supposed to do if you hurt my best friend? And what if you tossers hurt Y/N!”

The three of you shared a look before his brother turned to him. “Sirius, if we breakup, I give you permission to side with Remus.”

“And if we break up, I promise you can side with Y/N.” Remus added.

“Nope.” You said quickly, “that’s fine, I don’t need to be included in this.”

Sirius groaned out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank gods. Okay, okay. I guess I'll allow it then....”

“THE THREE OF YOU ARE WHAT!?” Barty screeched as he stood at the door of the infirmary, still in his quidditch kit.

“Do we actually have to have this conversation again?” You groaned quietly.

Remus shot Regulus and extremely guilty look as he slowly stood.

“Remus.” Regulus warned.

Remus grimaced and slowly made his way over to you.

“Remus John Lupin, I swear to Salazar...”

“Regulus, I love you; I do. But...he’s you’re friend an- NOW DOVE” He shouted, and the two of you took off in a sprint out of the infirmary. 

“Quite the catch you’ve got yourself there Regs.” Sirius taunted. 

“Sod off.” Regulus muttered as Barty made his way over to his bedside.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sirius jeered as he, too, took off out of the infirmary, leaving Regulus Black to deal with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior on his own.  

don't hate me

[ego-meliorem-esse]

I present to you my years long obsession - female America.

This is not a Nyotalia version it's just a concept of "what if everything is the same but Alfred was born a girl". Like i see so much potential! In a world where all the odds are stacked against her, she despite it all gets to where she is today. Making good and bad decisions along the way.

A lil hc/backstory for my main girl:

• Given name (by dad Arthur) is Elizabeth Felicity Kirkland but during the revolution changes her last name to Jones. Her first name change happens in the 1820/1830s when she changes it to Alexandra, also dropping her second name. (I was young when I came across the name and it means "defender/protector of man" and I was /obessed/ so i just stick to it since she is a loser and just thinks it's a cool sounding name)

• She goes by Alex/Al and I think that's neat :)

• My girl is tall. Like 181 cm tall. Sender but with visible muscles. She does want a bigger behind but her Anglo-Saxon genetics say nah.

• As a child she spent more time in England due to her being a girl so I think even if Arthur was absent he didn't allow her to spend much time alone in the colonies. She resents that ofc

• Just like with Alfred, Alex is very fkn close to Matt even if she forgets to call him or check up on him for months at a time. Al: "Hey man I know I just called a while ago but how've you been? Matt: "you called me 5 months ago..."

• Works at NASA as a part time aeronaitical engeneer. Loves physics, hates chemistry (self projection im sorry)

• During the revolution she dressed up as a boy but the people she worked with knew she wasn't one. People went along with it anyway.

• Other than during the American revolution, she dressed in feminine presenting clothes up until the 1930s. After that it was trousers all the way!

• Alex was never a nurse during wartime but definitely did accountaint work in ww1 and later joined the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF) where she stayed until 1943 when she joined her men fighting on the ground ( Conversion to Army status, Women's Army Corps - WAC). That's when she saw actual combat.

• Isn't fond of birds. Canaries are fine. Eagles are unsettling.

• Obsesses over a certan thing/hobby at a time up to a point where she perfects her skill. When she was about 14 (human years) it was the whole freedom and equality of man and all the politics regarding it. In the 1890s her obession was cars and motor vehicles. The 1910s brought a new obsession on womens rights. 1960s was space exploration where she devoted almost all her time researching and working for NASA, disregarding her goverment/state duties as a country. In the 1980s it was the internet. In 1990s she got really interested in the Balkan wars (self insert >:)) for whatever reason. Today her attention is mostly on social media and her attention span ia short af. Still really likes all things tech.

• Hasn't got many properties/real estate. Al does own a penthouse in Seaport, Boston and a late 17th and early 18th century colonial home in Newbury, Boston (that she needs to renovate asap). The only other real state she owns is in California, though modern and recently buit, it's not big nor does she spend much time there.

• Her personality is basicaly Alfred if he grew up as a woman and had to face opression based on sex and inequality that came with it. So still bubbly, extroverted, a social butterfly but also self-serving, idealistic, manipulative sprinkled in with sarcasm, cautiousness and craftiness. Same feckin sense of humour tho.

• In 1783, at the Treaty of Paris in Versailles both her and her father had to sign the document that started her independence (She herself had a human representitive 'cus of her age/sex bla bla but it was mostly formalities). At that signing Arthur gave her a flintlock pistol that he himself used in the 1640s. Not many words were exchanged, he just put it in her hand to keep. She still has it in her attic. Somewhere. She'd find it if she just takes the time to look for it I'm sure.

• In 1889 she straight up did her first war crime/murder of a fellow nation (if you don't count shooting her pops face off at Saratoga in 1777). After an altrication with Antonio that resulted in him insulting and slapping the girl for her audacity and mouthiness, she punched him straight in the jaw. A fight insued where she got ahold of his belt and straight up strangled him. Took her a while to process that and accept it. On the bright side Antonios scilence was heard around the world and while perplexed and insulted, older and influential (mostly male at that point) nations started to feel a glint of respect forming for the young startup.

• Al was given a family pocket watch by her father in the 90s (No more empire for Arthur so he sad :(((((( ) that was suppoaed to go to a firstborn son of a lord as an inheritance symbol. Everyone thought Jack would get it since Matt is techincally not Arthur's son. But even he would be expected to recieve it before Al. Then in an unexpected turn of events, while visiting her grumpy and nostalgeous empire-missing dad, Arthur pulled out the watch while eating stale kebabs in front of the telly and gave it to her casualy without as much as a word (The empire started with her, it shall end with her). She keeps it in her work desk drawer in a wooden box.

• Al and Zee have an interesting relationship. While being different in almost every aspect, there ia a mutual respect for eachother from eachother. While not really being able to see eye to eye, they are sisters in a certain roundabout and very fucked up way. Girls who learned that they are very much judged by their sex despite being daughters of a high ranking British lord. While aware that she will never be Alex/Elizabeth in her fathers eyes, Zee still gets treated as a treasure by her father. Much to Zee's annoyance.

• It's still Matt who's in Alex's shadow. Despite the dificulties she rises above and is the perfect child of an empire. Smart, intelligent, inquisitive, a fast learner and incredibly aware of the political and historical situation at all times. Even despite being a girl and less than a son in the eyes of a 17th/18th century society, she suceeds.

• Arthur wanted a son to come from his colonial endeavours, as all empires/nobility at the time did. And as all other empires at the time had. But ofc karma is a bitch and he's the only empire with an only child being a daughter. Though at first thougrly dissaponted, when he lays his eyes on his daughter for the first time, the only emotion he can feel is /joy/.

• Instead of sowing/knitting Al's education was very much focused on natural sciences, since that is where Arthur quickly realized she exels at. He swapped her Violin and General History of Music lessions with Astrophysics and The History of Astronomy. All in an attempt to stop her from making his ears bleed from the constant prattling about The Four Square Theorem or The Brachistocrone Curve. It only got worse, but his daughter was happy and content.

I have sooooo many more of these jfc i might do more later but for now this is all I can think of.

TLDR: Female America is great and has so much potential as a character hghhhhhhhh

[the-yellow-birdy]

I come at this hour, only for you

AN: IM BACK, okay so your girl can't stop and she's incredibly indecisive, so forget the post from yesterday (except the recommendation of the other tumblr) and know that I have returned. Truly hope you will enjoy this L.O.L - Yellow bird

// 18+ audience only! - Heavy dom/sub dynamics - Dom!LarissaWeems x Sub!FemReader - BDSM - Power dynamics/Power play - consensual manipulation - Lesbian yearning - All characters are above the age of 18\\

Click clack, click clack.

The sound of your spool heels hitting the cobblestone floors, was penetrating your ears as you sauntered down the empty firelit halls. It aligned untempered with the beating of your heart, which was already on its way up your throat, trapping your breath, preventing you from deeply inhaling the cool air around you. The pencil skirt you wore, made it fairly difficult to walk at a fast pace, but it was probably for the best. Your hands were clamped with sweat and the white blouse you wore was already getting damp from your warm body and doing a small marathon right now would make your sweaty nervousness visible to anyone. To her. Merciless her.

The skirt could be seen as a bit inappropriate and you were starting to wonder if maybe you shouldn’t have worn it.

Or maybe you should.

What if she says something? Would she look? 

What if you want her to look.

Definitely not. You definitely don’t want her to look, she shouldn’t look. Surely she won’t look. Perhaps she will have stopped with these foolish games. Maybe she will like it and not say anything. 

Or maybe she won’t.

You were nearing her office taking a couple of deep breaths as you swiped your bangs out of your face, smoothing down your neat ponytail.

You’re gonna be fine. Just, calm down.

 It wasn’t unusual for you to be interrupted in the late evenings by Nevermores headmistress. Whenever your screen lit up as you sat comfortably in your bed about to succumb to sleep, you knew there was no protesting. Well maybe if you weren't so pliable there would be, but you being you, there was no displeasing Larissa Weems. 

But it was at night that things got…

Strange

—

One night she had called upon you as you were closing your eyes to the tv-screen in front of you, requesting your presents. It wasn’t the first time, and the appeal of staying in your bed was grand, but you had of course complied as the reliable secretary you were.

You always did.

She didn’t tell you why it was urgent, yet you expected some immediate reports or mails to be written and sent the following morning, calling you now simply as a favor to your busy schedule, giving you some time to write them. But you were far from right.

She had requested for you to make her tea.

Tea? At this hour?

You thought. But of course your thoughts and thinking didn’t have a lot of time in the company of the woman. So with a single tilt of her head you did as you were told standing in the middle of the beautifully crafted office, and made tea.

The act in itself was harmless and quite pure, actually. It wasn’t like you were already asleep when she texted you and was being completely unfair. You could still get home at a decent hour to get some sleep if you hurried.

“Take off your heels, and come pour me the tea.”, she had said, quietly reading a document in her hand, her reading glasses at the bridge of her nose. Only looking over to see if you had sat them neatly aside by the wall. You didn’t, she thought and looked back down at the paper.

You of course wondered about the demand of your heels, but again, not much time to contemplate when Larissa was awaiting you.

She had you stand by her side the entire night. Having you repeatedly pour her tea when her cup became empty. She had only allowed you to leave, when the tea got cold and you had to make a new brew. Not even a bathroom break was given.

You had definitely seen the benefit she gave you of leaving the heels behind. 

Oh, how kind she truly was to you.

As the night came to an end and the early hours of dawn were showing, small birds chirped outside the office window, your eyes had closed, pot in hand, and you were swaying in the morning lights as if in a trance.

A gentle hand on your hip had your eyes flew open, coming out of the hypnotizing calmness. You couldn't see them, yet you knew there were large gray bags under your eyes.

“Well done, dear.”, she had said, drawing lacy circles on your hip bone. You had no idea why you felt like crying when she smiled at you, but you held the tears back.

She had given you the day off to rest, yet expected you back the next morning with the new student reports.

—

Headmistress - Larissa Weems

You looked at the gold plate engraved into the big oakwood door. The expensive shiny gold against the plain dark wood was a contrast that could only be adored, as you knocked twice on the door.

“Ms. Weems, it’s me Y/n”, You almost didn’t hear her timid reply of you being allowed to enter over the thumping of your heavy heart beats.

Just calm down. Nothing is gonna happen. You can always stop it. She would never if you don’t want to. 

But what if you did?

You entered her office, seeing her tapping away at her computer in the distance. Not offering you a single glance as you made your way towards her desk.

You stood in front of her for a couple of minutes, waiting patiently for a sign, a breath, a nod, a clearing of her throat, anything. When she finally looked up at you, finishing her sentence with the final period, she said nothing as her eyes slid down over your exposed collarbones. They traveled further and further over your curves and creases. The subtle outlining of your visible breasts given the bra you had chosen, the skirt of which was far too short for a respectable woman such as yourself, and finally the almost see-through white button-up shirt tucked into it.

She said nothing. Only after seconds lasting what seemed like eternity, did she take her eyes away from you and down to her desk once more. The hairs on the back of your neck had settled again, yet the tingling feeling of a sugar rush in your veins remained.

She always gave you attention during the day. Walking past you desk with a smile and the occasional 

morning dear 

Or words of affirmation when your job had been executed without flaw.

What would become of me without you and your splendid work my darling? 

You lived for it, a single praise from the woman, could plant a stupid smile on your face the rest of the day. You truly were pathetic. You knew you did a good job and what you were capable of, so why did you crave her approval so deeply?

But when nights came around such as this one, she changed. 

She took a stack of papers on the edge of the mahogany table and stretched her arm towards you. Her tea, placed right next to it. She was now looking you in the eyes, ripping off your clothes and exposing your bare self to her, with just a look. Your cheeks burned and you knew she could see it.

“I would like you to go through these letters from the parents. And I'd be very pleased if you only hand them to me, assuming anything serious was to show.”, She had a shine to her eyes. The beautiful laugh lines around her mouth and eyes prominent in the glow of the fireplace. She was absolutely breathtaking. Terrifying. Fearless. Charming.  Warm, oh so warm. Cold. Beautiful.

Dominant

Mesmerized, you glared a second too long at her elegant hairdo, snapping your eyes to her face.

“Uhm, yes Ms. Weems. I-Is that everything?”confusion was visible on your face, she loved it. Is this it? No more games? No more long nights, no more stares or touching. No more awaiting atmospheres of what's to come, what she wants or does next, that erupts butterflies within your whole body?

“Yes. That would be everything, Ms. L/n”, She gave you only the tint of a smile as she redirected her attention to her screen once more after you took the papers, leaving you utterly dumbfounded.

“Yes Ms. Weems, goodnight”, she gave you a small goodnight as you made your way to the door. Eyebrows wrinkled and the feeling of fireworks in your veins dilapidating.

Was this it? no more?

The endless taunting, lessons, reprimandings and taut praises gone? It was as if your heart felt lighter, almost too light. As if something was fading and dissolving from it.

Your heartbeat fell into its normal, monotone rhythm. Maybe it was good. It surely was. All you had to do was leave and do your work. Simply take ahold of the door handle and…

A thud.

“Oh my, I’m quite the klutz. Would you mind helping me for a minute, my darling?”, her voice was calm, unnervingly calm as you listened to the woman behind you. It was sweet, bittersweet as she spoke the words in her thick accent. The hairs on the back of your neck had risen once more. Your heart, leaving its once peaceful rhythm.

You turned around. The principle was staring daggers at you, without having moved an inch from her spot. Eyes fixed on the price as her hand held onto the edge of the desk, head tilted slightly as she looked at you with a faux hopeful expression of your service. 

The now empty teacup laid on the expensive Agra rug. A dark patch of the liquid had formed on it as a result of the small accident.

“Come here.”, she straightened her head and morphed her expression back to one of seriousness. 

Click clack, click clack.

You came to stand in front of her again.

“Would you be a dear and clean the mess. I am terribly fond of this rug and I would hate to see it ruined by a simple cup of tea.”, she wetted her bottom lip, tongue sliding over the plumb flesh, leaving you with vivid imaginations and a horrible need to cover yourself in her expensive lipstick. She didn’t give you a smirk or even a hint of a smile, but the smugness, the eye contact and the feigning helplessness was drowning your mind.

“Yes.”

“Oh aren’t you too sweet.”

You timidly smiled at her, face lighting up in rosy colors at the exaggerated praise.

She blinked a couple of times, the kind features she displayed, coming to an end.

What do you do? Wait? Leave? Speak?

“On your knees, Y/n.”, It wasn’t mean nor a request, rather a polite demand. 

What? Knees? You won’t! There's no way you heard her right! Of course you heard her right, she’s insane. You’re insane. You shouldn't even be here at this hour, cleaning her mess, let alone on your knees as she feasted her eyes on you. You shouldn’t. Should you? 

Your mind was blinded by fog and uncertainty. But in the end you knew that when one eyebrow lifted slightly, eyes narrowed at your soul, there was no reason to resist. Like butter on a burning pan, your destiny was to melt.

Hypnotized, you got on your knees, putting the papers beside you. Your gaze not faltering from hers, seemingly kneeling in front of the dark spot, but in reality you were kneeling before an entirely different darkness.

Larissa’s breath raked, she had waited so long. She had too. There was no springing this on anyone. It had to be developed, a process of trust leading up to this exact moment, letting her know that her patience had paid off. You truly were hers. Look at you, such despair you showed, thinking she was gonna give you no more recognition. You were absolutely perfect, especially in this exact view with your skirt bunching so far up it covered nothing of your creamy thighs, and you didn't even notice.

“What are you waiting for, hm?”, She raised an eyebrow at you.

You blinked, “I have no cloth, Ms. Weems.”

She looked at your doe eyes, her body was about to give in. About to help you find a cloth, rip it off of you, providing you with the guidance you clearly needed in your state of haze. Tell you just how to do it, how to clean, how to sit, how to breathe, eat, look, dress, please.

Her eyes moved from your face to the white button-up. She could see the top of your pleasing breasts. How long until you’d beg her to simply brush a gloved hand across them, she thought.

She looked up at you once more, slowly trailing her eyes down onto the white fabric.

You looked at her with doubt, could it really be true. You needed to be sure. But deep down, you knew what she was asking. Demanding. 

I have no intentions of giving in to your puppy eyes, sweet girl.

You slowly grabbed the top button and freed it from its restraint. You looked down to see what you were doing, wanting it done properly and agile. You felt ashamed, bare, fragile, but at the same time the feeling of being free was the one dominating, making all the doubt disappear.

yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, such a good girl

“Look at me.” Her voice dropped and she had shifted on her office chair, so that she sat right in front of you. Head to chest. Her hands had folded over her soft stomach, an elbow on the edge of the desk and elegant, pale, long legs crossed.

Blue orbs observed you, as you gradually revealed yourself more and more to your employer, the headmistress.

It’s wrong. You have to stop. 

When all the buttons had been freed you paused, she gave you a tiny nod of her head, the only sign you needed. You slowly took off your shirt and placed it in your lap, your eyes faltering slightly of a new found shame bubbling in the back of your mind. You must be looking incredibly silly.

Oh dear. You were doing it again.

Your lack of obedience didn’t pass the principle. What to do with you? She brought the tip of her stiletto to your face. She placed it under your chin, lifting it and making you look at her a second time.

Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

Your mind went blank with only her as your epicenter. No idea of what to do, you simply looked up, mouth agape, baffled by her impotent behavior leading to the uncivilized act.

She looked so serene from this angle. Stoic. You were looking at her smooth calves, not able to look higher, the fabric of her skirt in the way. Dainty stockings protecting her skin from the cold, you, had to endure. Her elegant ankles, framed by elegant black heels. Flawless.

She was an angel. A devil disguised was probably the right answer. You never knew hell could taste, look, feel so sweet. And how could you deny it, when it was breathing you in right above you, like an addict. An addict fighting the urge to consume their drug, the thing bringing them simple, addictive ecstasy. Her eyes almost dazed and shoulders moving with her shallow breath.

Won’t be long now, my sweet

“Go on, darling.”, the touch of her smooth plastic heels left the skin of your neck.

There was only a millisecond of halting in your movements before you started soaking up the dark spot with your blouse. The white pious color, changing to one of light brown. You have to admit it was one of your more favorable shirts, but you didn’t object to any of it. You knew it would lead to nowhere.

The chilling air of the office, had goosebumps erupt on your arms and back, yet the glow of the fireplace gave you warmth in the coolness and made it almost refreshing.

Why did she like this? Watching you clean her floor. Naked. Sacrificing your favorite shirt, just for the sake of her rug. She must be ill. Really ill. But who are you to talk? After all, you are the one feeding it to her, giving in. moremoremoremore

You tried not to think about it, but a heat within your lower stomach was no longer a single burning match, it felt like flames were burning you up on the inside as you felt her gaze on you and nothing and no one could help, except the woman in front of you.

I know.

Larissa looked over your body. She had of course never seen this much of you, yet it wasn’t a lot she had seen of you before. How come you don’t show more of that beautifully freckled skin, maybe a bit more cleavage and collarbone. The only thing she really was able to vividly imagine at night, was your neck and how it bobbed with nervousness everytime you were in her presence. 

She didn’t worry too much about it at the moment. There would be time for changes later, but right now all that mattered was you.

youyouyou

Her fingers itched and tapped over each other in excitement. She couldn’t wait any longer. Maybe she could indulge, just this once. She was so desperate to caress and claim your skin. Oh how she desired you from the very first times she had spent with you. So full of life and curiosity that could surely kill the cat, which it did. Your passion for what you did, your hobbies, your future, others. Her. It sent her into a place of admiration no one ever had before, and now here you were. Right beneath her, half naked and the best part of it all, was that you loved it, just as much as she.

A firm hand reached for your chin. Disturbed from your ministries your head was turned. You were enraptured by her touch and your eyes closed with a whine from your throat. Her fingers pressed onto your cheeks, squeezing. You let go of the wet fabric and opened your eyes - crystallized lilly’s of the nile -

though it didn't seem to help much, as your vision was showing a thick fog, while everything seemed to move at lightspeed.

Click clack, click clack. Breathe, just breathe.

"Crawl."

________________________________

Can't find the taglist, my bad

[the-suns-a-tube]

How much of Jonny's backstory I think is true:

This is what Jonny has to say about his backstory:

"Seriously? Fine. I was born a few hundred years ago on New Texas. Don’t bother looking for it, I made it up. I think. It’s the story, though, and that’s what matters. Standard ne’erdowell youth: cards, whiskey, women and murder. I’m told I had a good heart, but the Doc dealt with that after the whole patricide thing."

What I think is true:

-Jonny Grew up on a Texas like planet

-Jonny killed his father

-There was a casino in the story involved somewhere

What I think is untrue:

-Any of the dialogue. Jonny definitely rewrote everything to have better flow, be more dramatic, and make himself sound cooler.

-That Jonny's Father forgave him. I think Jonny had retold what he wants to have happened. Bonus Points for trans jonny, If he is trans I dont think his father accepted him as his son. The "I forgive you, Son." would be jonny's imagining of what happened.

I don't think jonny even remembers what really happened, and what bits are real and what bits he made up. Its been so long of him telling his rewritten story, what really happened has been lost to him, not entirely on accident either.

What I'm not sure about:

One Eyed Jack. He could have been a real person, or he could have been a symbolic character Jonny made up to represent multiple people. Or he could be taking the place of Carmilla in the story, and maybe it was Carmilla who convinced him to kill his dad. The One Eye symbolism is there.

Again, Jonny doesn't seem to even remember. "New Texas. Don't bother looking for it, I made it up. I think" and "I'm told I had a good heart."

and the

"Standard ne’erdowell youth: cards, whiskey, women and murder."

Cards ✅

Whiskey ✅

Murder ✅

Women (?)

There aren't really any women in his youth that we know of. Carmilla only came in later, so the only thing we have is his Mother who I think was a Tailor (am i remembering that right? idk where I saw that) and Himself, if you have the afab jonny hc. But the women thing sorta implies that he was having relations with women, so perhaps that was another thing that his father disagreed with? Im totally speculating here, but if his dad found out that he, being afab, had been going out with women, he perhaps did not react well to that, either hurting jonny, hurting jonny's partner, or separating them. Perhaps Jonny Killed his dad in self defense or in revenge?

Ok Ok im going to formulate a narrative of what I personally think happened:

-Jonny was born afab on a backwater planet possibly named New Texas

-He grew up with his emotional abstinence mother and either physically or emotionally abusive father

-Started hanging out at the local casino, where he can present as male. Hangs around with the prostitutes and working women, maybe even gets a job bartending or something.

-falls in love with one of the working women

-His dad finds out about the sapphic looking relationship/presenting male stuff and freaks out, going after the woman for corrupting the "Nice Christian Girl" he wanted his daughter to be.

-His Father does something about it, and arranges for the woman to be sent away, killed, or married off.

-Jonny goes to the casino looking for her, only to have One Eyed jack tell him what happened in a not so subtle ploy to get Jonny to get rid of his dad for him.

-Jonny is unsure, but goes after his dad, getting into a fight that ends with Billy dead and Jonny sobbing on the floor

-Carmilla finds Jonny, offers to take him with her. With his partner gone, Jonny has nothing left, and agrees. But he wants to have one last farewell to the casino.

-Either carmilla tips him off or he figures it out himself, but One Eyed Jack helped orchestrate the killing or sending away of the Working Woman in his employ,

-Jonny realizes Jack never wanted to help him, he just wanted someone to do his killing for him.

-Jonny burns down the casino and leaves with Carmilla.

I think him being motivated by a lost lover makes a lot of sense with the whole "used to have a good heart" thing. Jonny is very romantic in his storytelling, even when the couple always tragically dies. I think he chose to write her out of his past because it was too painful for him, and he didn't want a reminder that he used to have a heart. He has blocked it out, and now genuinely doesn't remember anything other than how he wrote the song.

What do yall think?

[fcthots]

okay maybe nottttt the exact type of jason content you’re writing but i do really just need jason loving a curvy reader so good bc she’s having a bad body dysmorphia day

Ok im going for a more hc approach to this to keep it geared towards a more broad audience as I have to be able to relate to be able to write it. also I rlly just wanted to try out this format lol

ok so its date night and Jason looks fucking HOT

and you really wanna give him a treat. You wanna look good for him!

You want him to look at you and think "Wow! I'm so lucky! I'm so glad I found you."

You try on a dress that you think will look cute

It... doesn’t look like you thought it would

oh well. you'll just try another even though you were really planning on the first one

So you try the next one and that one doesn’t look right either

you try on the third outfit and you're starting to think maybe you're the problem

you know you're late but maybe if you find that outfit, he’ll think you're so pretty that it'll be ok. He'll think you're so beautiful that he'll forgive you. You just have to be pretty enough.

You just have to try to deserve forgiveness. You just have to try to deserve a fraction of all of the amazing love he gives you.

And that's how Jason finds you 30 minutes later, naked on the floor of your apartment surrounded by probably 14 different outfits

He sits down criss-cross next to you

"thought I'd find you in here. I got worried when you didn’t show up at my apartment. thought I had the wrong day at first."

you don’t even respond or look at him. you don’t think you can. you have no excuse

He does it for you. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

You lean up, grab your blanket off the bed, and put it over your entire body, including your face

you hear him sigh and move closer to you before he moves the blanket away from your face

"please tell me? please."

You cave and tell him everything. He sets his jaw and listens.

you finish talking and it takes him a full minute before he speaks.

"We'll circle back to some things later, but I got you a present. I wanted you to wear it tonight. Also got some stuff I thought we could use tonight. You wanna see it?"

You nod your head, more confused than anything else. He comes back in two minutes later with a bag he tosses at you.

You open it

It's pajamas

Not lingerene

Pajamas like a giant shark onesie

you look at what else is in the bag

its a Shrek dvd

He speaks again. "I think we definitely need to watch Shrek tonight. in our matching shark onesies."

You don’t know what to say

but he does

"I'm with you because I love you and I like you. Every inch of you. I think you're smart and funny and amazing. And I also think you're sexy and gorgeous and beautiful. I can't change the way that you think. But will you at least believe me when I say that in my eyes you are the most beautiful woman on the planet?"

You pretend you're not actively crying "I think it would do me some good to watch Shrek"

He laughs and helps you up.

[boccher]

gosh and like people saying "it's not men's fault they were raised and conditioned to inevitably be misogynists" like they're totally helpless plankton being carried along the current of patriarchy LIKE they fucking grew up with women around them. their classmates their teachers their caregivers strangers on the street, sitting next to them in the bar, messaging them on games or social media, writing the books and tv shows and movies they enjoy.

And obviously not every woman is handing every man an essay on feminism wherever they go (and theres MANY reasons why tons of women will reinforce the patriarchy even if it oppresses them but that's a different convo). But inevitably it crosses EVERYONE'S minds that maybe women are equal human beings to men. Like the level of disconnect by so many men to never see women as equals, to disengage and deflect whenever sexism is brought up (like holy shit do they disengage and deflect). that's a series of ACTIVE and continuous decisions to dehumanise women in spite of the reality that they can clearly see around them, that's them being presented with the opportunity to have institutional power and superiority over women and actively taking it. It goes way beyond just abosrbing misogynistic beliefs around them, and it's SO common. You know how so many guys think of women as a disposable commodity in the dating game? or are totally sympathetic to rapist celebrities? and spout shit about "false accusations" "#metoo was a mistake" "what about the male custody rate"? it goes waaayy beyond "internalised misogyny" it's fully externalised and they're often proud about it

IMO it's far more essentialist to dismiss the autonomy that men have in fully wholeheartedly embracing patriarchy, that's steeping into bullshit talking points like "men can't change their nature" "you can't take the male socialisation out of the man" and ignores the feminist men (definitely not a majority lol) who don't completely buy into patriarchy from the outset, y'know like guys I've actually interacted with and are legitimately trustworthy nice people. and it ignores my tranny ass as well, like they wanted me to go "eww girls im better than girls" as well, but i fuckin talked to girls and deduced that the whole power game was bullshit. I just wanted to play with the people I liked whoever they were. far before i knew what a transgender was or that i might be one. cuz its fuckin logical if you have any theory of mind

[thelov3lybookworm]

You Think I Wanted This? (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: The wedding day has arrived.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: Ehehe im so excited for yall to read this aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

If there was one word that could describe the situation around the palace, it would be chaos. But ten times worse.

The time was flying by, and it was getting incredibly hard to keep herself from screaming in frustration. The anxiety building up in her, the worries... it was hard to focus on anything.

The wedding would take place today in the great hall in just a few hours, and Y/n could not stop the tremor in her hands.

The only thing that comforted Y/n was the fact that Cam was now present with her, in the Palace, having returned from Basgiath during the leave granted before his second year.

Due to being the son of the king, he had been granted some leniency so he could attend Y/n's wedding.

That, and the books Y/n was forced to read, being a healer.

All alone in her room now, all she could do was read through the boring texts again, because that was the only way she could stop thinking about the inevitable ruining of her life.

A knock startled Y/n, and she glanced at the small clock she kept on her desk, frowning when she realised there was still, at the very least, an hour until the maids came to get her ready.

Standing, she called out. "Yes?"

"May I come in?" The voice was unmistakably female, with the confidence of someone far older an experienced than the owner of the voice should have been.

Y/n walked over, opening the door a crack to find Violet Sorrengail waiting, her hair in a messy braid hanging over one shoulder.

Y/n blinked, then opened the door wider, letting her in.

"Sorrengail, what brings you here?"

Violet took a deep breath, letting the door fall shut behind her before speaking.

"Did you ask to be married to Xaden?"

Y/n blinked, taken aback. "Xaden? Why would I want to be married to him?"

Violet sighed, frustration evident in the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders. Now that Y/n looked closely, she looked like she had not showered or had a meal in years.

"I- you were staring at him that day like- like you wanted him, and then right after the king announced your marriage and..." Violet took a deep breath, looking like she would have a panic attack any moment. And despite the fact that this girl was involved with Y/n's soon to be husband, that they had something going on, maybe even feelings involved, all Y/n felt was pity for her.

Y/n sympathised with the girl, but there was nothing Y/n could do to comfort her than give false words of hope.

"Look, Sorrengail, there is nothing I can do. I am sorry, I truly am, but I can't put a stop to this wedding, if that is what you are here for."

"But you didn't even try!"

Y/n crossed her arms, rubbing between her brows, realising Violet had been trying to hold in her emotions all along and she was not here for a friendly chat over tea.

"I know the consequences I would have had to bear for objecting, and the wedding would still have happened because no one goes against the king's words."

"You are his daughter! He would have-"

"And you are a grown woman, who, I hope, understands what consequences are. So I am not going to sit here and explain to you what would have happened if I'd done what I wanted to two hours before the betrothal takes place." Y/n glanced at the clock to make sure she had the right timing before turning towards the door, reaching out to clutch the handle.

"You didn't even try." All anger had dissipated from the rider's voice, and the tears in her eyes made her look like she was ready to fall to her knees and beg for Xaden to be freed.

Y/n clenched her eyes shut, knowing if she watched Violet cry, she would do end up doing something very stupid, and that something was definitely going to get her killed.

"I am sorry Violet, but there is nothing I can do other than to tell you to return, go to someplace that brings you peace, and stay away from the palace for atleast two days."

The fire of rage again lit up in Violet's eyes, and she stomped forward just as Y/n opened the door for her to leave.

"Fuck you." Violet cursed, and Y/n did not bat an eye at the words as she clicked the door shut behind her.

With a sigh, Y/n returned to her desk.

Not long after, someone again knocked on the doors, though this time it was the servants arriving to get Y/n dressed up all pretty for the ceremony.

Y/n let go of her textbook and let the attendants fuss over her, the mannerisms of a princess that had been drilled into her since she was born keeping her from complaining everytime they pulled her hair too harshly.

Kept her quiet even when the corset was too tight.

Kept her quiet even when all she wanted to do was cry and ask what the purpose of all this was.

•○🌑○•

Violet's pov.

The crowd was silent, watching the bride walk down the aisle who only had eyes for the groom. Some of the held appreciation for what the girl had managed to achieve, some held scorn in their hearts for her getting married to the son of a coward and betraying the kingdom.

Her eyes remained unwavering, her long hair running down her straight back, hands clutching at the small bouquet of flowers.

She was beautiful, Violet had to admit.

The groom too stared at the bride, his hands folded neatly behind his back, and though his expression remained neutral, his eyes spoke volumes about his happiness regarding this marriage.

At least the two of them knew nothing could come out of this marriage, and no one would be disappointed after the outcome turned out to be hatred.

The moment the bride took her position at the podium, the priest started speaking.

After long minutes of droning, the bald priest finally asked the question that the groom, bride and Violet all dreaded.

"Do you, Xaden Riorson, take Y/n Tauri, to be your wife?"

Violet's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the tense Lieutenant, who, if possible, tensed even more as he answered.

"I do."

"Do you, Xaden Riorson, swear to be loyal throughout this marriage to your wife?"

At that, Xaden jerked, his head turning a little towards where Violet was standing, but then he stopped himself and stared again at his to be wife.

"I do."

The princess blinked in confusion, and her eyes slowly swept the crowd as she searched for something.

Violet moved, trying to conceal herself behind the pillar she was standing next to.

Of course, the two girls met eyes before Violet could be successful.

Violet watched as exasperation and pity filled Y/n's eyes, and Violet lifted her chin in confidence she didn't feel.

"Do you, Y/n Tauri, take Xaden Riorson, to be your husband?"

Violet watched as the princess swallowed and spoke, no other sign of hesitation or anxiousness in sight. "I do."

"Do you, Y/n Tauri, swear to be loyal throughout this marriage to your husband?"

"I do."

The lack of hesitation almost made Violet feel bad, because the certainty that dripped from the princess's voice told Violet that even if Xaden continued to pursue Violet behind close doors, the princess would stay loyal to him.

Almost.

"I now pronounce you two married. You may kiss the bride."

Violet held Y/n's stare until Xaden was right in her face, and then she closed her eyes, and let him kiss her.

Violet turned away, walking out of the huge doors and making her way to the flight field near the palace.

She knew she should have heeded the princess's advice, but she couldn't stop herself from seeing him get married by her own eyes.

Even if the bride was not who Violet wished.

•○🌑○•

@artists-ally @riddlesb1tch

Xaden Taglist: @sidrapotter @anniiittttaa @pirana10 @harrystylesfan2686

[mishwanders]

god ive just been sitting here "man i need to workout" cause im not fit and I WANT TO BE 😭😭😭 all i can think of rn is chain reacting to someone who has a damn sleeper build, essentially they dont look like they have muscles until they pull up their sleeve/stretch/flex cause there's this buff girl on tiktok and MY GODD 😳 also go wild w your headcanons with Time on this cause He's also my fav 😌

Absolutely felt, oh my god I feel this in my soul

Characters: The Chain (and others) x GN!STRONG Reader

A/N+Warnings: canon typical violence, safe for everyone. Written by Mishwanders - pls do not repost.

Time:

Time is super observant, but considering you are covered in your traveling clothes, he sees you as someone who needs to be protected, put more into the center of the group when shit hits the fan.

BUT WHEN THIS MAN SEES YOU HOLD YOUR OWN IN A FIGHT?! Mad respect for you. He watched you straight up pick up a monster by its ankle and sling it across the battlefield like it was one of Wilds broken weapons.

After that he definitely keeps you to the front of the group when things start going wrong.

Warriors:

DEFINITELY underestimated you at first

Does not underestimate you any more once he gets ROCKED by you body slamming into his shield during a duel.

You are one of his favorites to train with because of how strong you are and you work together on optimize your abilities 😤

Sky:

Also loves to train with you - mainly because he’s fast on his feet and learning how much strength you have teaches him how to stay grounded if he’s hit (as much as he can be).

His eyes practically pop out of his head the minute he sees your arms out of your knights armor - your arms rivaling that of Twilights. (Hearty eyes hearty eyes)

He might ask to take a nap by being held by you please for the love of Hylia, LET HIM!

Twilight:

Another one who gets very surprised by your strength when you straight up tackle him or show off the gun show.

Might sumo wrestle you - actually no, HE WILL SUMO WRESTLE YOU IF YOU JUST GIVE HIM THE CHANCE

Also will ask you to help with gathering firewood for camp because it makes it easier if the two of you do it instead of Legend or Wind (for example).

Wild:

HELLO NEW HUNTING BUDDY

You WILL be carrying the caribou he takes down once he knows you can lift it and also helping strip the skin because oh my god does that take a while and he needs all the help he can get.

Will ask to sit on your shoulders to get a better vantage point to figure out where you all are.

Legend:

Not impressed (yes he is, don’t listen to him, he’s just salty)

Speechless when he witnesses you toss a wallmaster into a wall but tried to cover it up sarcastically saying “I could do that”.

Softens up to you when he’s injured and your carrying him/ripping some of your own clothing to make a bandage because they’re all out of potions.

Hyrule:

FORAGING FORAGING

HELP THIS GUY DIG UP THOSE PLANTS THAT ARE REALLY ROOTED INTO THE GROUND - HE NEEDS THEM FOR SPELLS AND POTIONS!

Fawning over you for real, he loves it.

Four:

1000% utilizing your muscles for making weapons (especially trying to make one for Wild)

He really admires your strength and your ability to keep up with everyone.

May ask to ride on piggy back on occasion.

Wind:

This kid is hanging off your arm like a jungle gym.

Attempts to do pull ups with your biceps.

Will ask for you to carry him via piggy back up the mountain because his legs hurt.

Bonus -

Fierce Diety:

Proud Dad

Cue the training music montage - another who likes to train with you - might even attempt to do curls or bench press you. You are his new apprentice now, there’s no escaping it.

Malon:

Malon is a STRONG woman herself and so she appreciates the extra muscle when it presents itself around the farm.

Definitely has you helping with heavy lifting around Lon Lon ranch.

Ravio:

1000% throwing his bags onto you and taking you to the markets, he loves having a strong person to go shopping with (Sorry Legend)

Practically swooning over you and appreciates you.

[harrytheehottie]

THE FIVE TIMES YOU KNEW: 2016 PART TWO

🌟 read part one🌟 masterlist 🌟 share your thoughts

feels good to finally have a part two out. this is a story that I really want to see through so although updates may be few and far between its a universe that im always thinking of and I hope you enjoy even after waiting weeks! months! years! truly thank you for reading anything I write this is just for fun!

Harry was a mess. 

His mom called him in the middle of the night. He was sleeping and didn’t hear it. He wondered what he would’ve done if he had been up, instead of waking up to 3 missed calls and a text from his sister telling to call when he wakes up. Harry immediately had a pit in his stomach. He had a dream about this very thing happening. It was more of a recurring nightmare as he spent more time away from his family. There would be an emergency of some kind and he would be unable to work around his demanding schedule and make sure he was able to make it back home. The dreams were at their worst while Harry was in the band. Now, he knew he was in a better position - Jeff would move mountains to get Harry to where he wanted to be. And right now, he needed to get to Brooklyn. 

He was out of bed and in the car in record time. Opting for a pair of gray sweats and one of the first hoodies he could find. It was very early, the smog was still covering the sky, the usual LA traffic was nonexistent. It was 7:12 when Harry got to Brooklyn’s apartment. Harry took a few deep breaths before heading to her front door. He didn’t let her know he was on the way but he almost needed this version of events to happen. Harry knew that at any moment his mom would be calling him up again and he needed someone else there with him. 

Harry walked up those steps a little amused at the situation before knocking on the door in quick  succession. He heard a faint ‘who is it?” and moments later Brooklyn opened her door. 

“Harry? Are you alright, why are you up so early?” She asked. She was wearing a t-shirt that cut her at the middle of her thighs with just underwear underneath, so he hoped. He knew she definitely wasn’t expecting to see him just from that alone. 

“I… I had this bad feeling and woke up to a missed call and a few texts from my mum and my sister and I just knew that I shouldn’t be alone.” Harry knew about the doctors appointments and different tests that were being run back home and he buried himself with work to occupy his time. 

Brooklyn moved over to open the door wider and let Harry in before going in to hug him. Harry's body perfectly engulfed Brooklyn. He needed this. The familiar feeling of her and her apartment and the way his anxieties seem to disappear whenever he’s around her. Harry takes in the look of her apartment as the early morning sun beams in through the curtains. Brooklyn’s house was cozy and lived in, the closest thing he’s been able to find as ‘home’ since he’s been in LA. She has pictures of her family and friends, her favorite artwork littered around the walls, trinkets on most surfaces, there’s color and life in this place. A stark difference to the usual ‘modern’ homes he’s used to with beiges and creams. 

“Do you want coffee?” Brooklyn asks, pulling Harry out of his mind. “I was just up to make a cup before I heard the door.” 

“Uhm… yes, please. Al-”

“Almond milk and two sugars. I remember,” Brooklyn interrupts before he could finish letting her know his order. He would be lying to himself if that moment didn’t mean something to him. “You’re the best.” Harry says before taking a seat on the couch as Brooklyn went to the kitchen. He took his phone out, took a deep breath and called his mom back. 

Harry was in the living room looking tense on the phone, Brooklyn could hear the familiar Northern Accent of his mother, she is yet to meet the woman but has been present for many phone calls. Brooklyn had the two coffees in her hand and put them on the coffee table as she sat next to Harry and waited for him to be done on the phone. She tried her hardest to not pay any mind to the conversation, paying close attention to his reactions on the phone. The way Harry was playing with his knuckles, moving his hair from one side to the other. The nervousness that he shared, he got off the phone, saying his goodbyes and love you’s to his mom, he took a deep breath and kept his eyes down on the ground shuffling around in his seat. Brooklyn could feel his nervous energy afraid of what he was going to share with her from that phone call but she knew it wasn’t her place to ask. But when his eyes met Brooklyn’s, the soft greens meeting her deep brown, he broke his silence. 

“It’s Robin… he’s sick.” 

&&

Harry was staying at Brooklyn’s for over a week now. The first night he went back to his place to get a bag of clothes and immediately turned back around to go to hers. He was trying to figure out what to do. Obviously, there was only so much that he could do but support his family through it all. Brooklyn quickly became his confidant. The friendship that they were building went through its first hardship. Harry was in LA to work on his solo album before he had to move back to Europe to begin filming Dunkirk. He wanted to immediately get on the first flight home but Brooklyn with the help of Jefff was the one to talk him out of it. After a week of doing nothing but working out and trying to write all of his ideas on paper. Harry was finally ready to get back to the studio. 

They were playing their own version of ‘house’ she was staying in her room and made him sleep on the sofa. He was adamant that he still wanted to stay over on the third night, Brooklyn invited Harry into her room.

“Do you want to sleep in mine?” She asked just as they were finishing dinner. They ordered takeout from their favorite Italian restaurant. 

“What?” Harry was almost taken aback by her question. They’ve never done that. Not platonically or ever romantically. 

“I’m asking you, if you want to sleep in my room?” Brooklyn spoke again with a sense of calm in her voice. She could feel the fire hot blush creep up through her body as she repeated her sentence. 

“And where will you sleep?” Harry quirked a brow.

“In my bed?” She repeated herself. She knew what he was getting at. Always being one to never not be in the mood to be a little cheeky. 

“Is this your sly way of finally asking me to come to bed with you?” 

“To sleep.” Brooklyn scoffed at him finishing his sentence for him. 

“In your bed?” Harry poked again. 

“Yes.” She said firmly. 

“With you?” Harry was laughing again. Brooklyn threw her hand towel at his chest. Harry successfully pushed her buttons. He felt light for the first time. 

“I’m going to bed. If you want to come with you can come. If you’re just going to make innuendos you can stay on the couch. Good night.” 

Brooklyn stood up from her chair and began walking up the stairs towards her bedroom. She was wearing her usual clothes to bed: a baggy tee and sleep shorts. Harry waits a beat before following her up the steps trying his hardest not just to run up there. He respects her and their friendship too much to do more than just the flirty banter. He loves getting a rise out of her - the face she would make when she’s annoyed at him. Her big brown eyes rolling at him would cause her nose to scrunch but he could still see that smile that she was trying so hard to hide. 

He was still in that fog from the news about Robin. Everyday was spent thinking about how he was going to be off on a movie set soon and not be able to easily be there for his family. He was only in LA for another week and a half before he had to get back to London for a photoshoot and then straight into prep for Dunkirk. It was going to be intense. Emotional. Devastating at times, but right now, he was okay - more than. 

With the comfort of Brooklyn. 

&&

“Do you think you two would ever?” Callie asked before taking an exaggerated sip of her drink. They were out to lunch and Brooklyn was always hyper aware of the eavesdroppers around them to the point that it almost felt like they were speaking in codes. 

“No. I’ve compartmentalized those feelings they’re kind of not there anymore.” 

“Kind of not there?” Callie laughed, “You’ve shared a bed for the last two weeks and he’s been living at yours for almost a month, I think the feelings are very much still there.” 

Brooklyn rolled her eyes - this was a conversation the two friends have had ever since Harry came into their lives. Brooklyn knows it's because she admitted to her friends that she had a crush on him early on but what girl in her early 20’s around the world doesn’t? But the more their friendship grew the more she pushed those feelings to the side. “Boys and girls can be just friends, Callie. Plus he’s having a really hard time so he’s staying at mine. That’s what friends do.” 

“Whatever you say” 

“Cmon just tell me what you’re thinking.,,”

“Maybe you should ask yourself why he, with so many friends in this city, went to your house first. And decided to stay there. During a time where he has a lot going on.” Callie reached her hand across the table for yours, “Look Brooklyn, I don’t want you to get in too deep and get hurt, again, because you aren’t being true to your feelings. It’s okay if you like him - you just have to let yourself tell him.” 

Brooklyn let her friends' words resonate. She didn’t say much else after that regarding the topic of Harry quickly changing the subject back to work and Callie’s friend drama that didn’t involve her. She knew she would have to confront her feelings at some point. Was it really that weird that Harry decided to come to her first and not Jeff or Ben or any of the other guys in LA he’s known for a lot longer? We were still friends and nothing happened between us even when we were in the same bed. She was just being a good friend.  

&&

They were cuddling. 

In the middle of the night their bodies moved closer and now they were tangled up together. Their legs intertwined as Brooklyn’s head rested on Harry’s arm like a pillow. This was different. She felt at ease the sounds of Harry’s breathing lulling her back to sleep. The warmth of their bodies proximity to one another. It felt right in a way. So, Brooklyn let herself fall back asleep, the early morning sun just peaking in as she dozed back to bed. It wasn’t until she felt Harry shifting next to her that her eyes slowly opened again. She thought about this exact scenario multiple times embarrassingly enough. And maybe it was the conversation she had with Callie yesterday or the reality of everything hitting her in the moment of them actually doing something that goes beyond the platonic friendship line but she was sure that if Harry asked her to do it again, she would in a heartbeat. 

“What are you thinking about?” Harry asked in his low tone the sleep still evident in his raspy voice. 

“How long have you been watching me?” Brooklyn looked up at him to meet his gaze. Harry was sitting up on the bed, his back against the bed frame.

“I’ve only just woken up.” 

“You look rather comfy for someone who just woke up… you’ve been staring at me for hours.” Brooklyn jokes as she stretches her arms out for a yawn. Her eyes meet the clock to see that it’s a little past 9. “Shit. I’m going to be late. I promised Callie I’d help her in the morning. Did you turn my alarm off?” Brooklyn almost jolted out of bed looking for her and should’ve been plugged in right next to her. “Harry, where’s my phone?” 

Brooklyn looks up at him waiting for him to start shuffling around the bed to find the phone but he’s not moving a mischievous grin on his face as he quickly showed the phone that he had in his hand was actually hers.

“Harry… give me that back!” Brooklyn tried to wrestle the phone out of his grip. But Harry was quick, doding Brooklyn’s attempts with a playful smirk on his face. 

As they tussled for control of the phone, laughter filled the room. It had been a long time since they had goofed around like this, just the two of them. But as the playfulness faded, Brooklyn and Harry found themselves in a surprisingly intimate position, their faces inches apart.

Suddenly realizing the closeness of their bodies, Brooklyn and Harry pulled away awkwardly, their cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Harry cleared his throat and quickly got out of bed, “Erm… I’ll go make some coffee?” Harry said trying to break the tension between them. 

As Harry left the room, Brooklyn sat there, feeling confused and a little disoriented. She couldn't deny the strange fluttering sensation in her stomach at their close proximity, and she wondered if there was more to their friendship than either of them had ever realized. The conversation with Callie coming to the forefront of her mind. 

But for now, Brooklyn pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on Harry's offer of coffee. As she heard the sound of the coffee machine whirring in the kitchen, Brooklyn couldn't help but smile, knowing that no matter what happened, she always had Harry by her side.

&&

Harry was on his way to his first studio day since he got the news. There was a song that was nagging at him over the last couple of weeks that he couldn’t wait to flush out with the boys. He tapped his fingers along the steering wheel to the familiar tune that’s been haunting him for day, lyrics echoing in his head like a broken record. As he made his way to the studio, the melody grew louder, almost drowning out the sounds of the bustling city around him. It wasn't until he sat down at his keyboard, fingers poised to start composing, that he realized the source of the song. "Brooklyn saw me, empty avenues," he whispered to himself, the words finally making sense. It was as if a light had been switched on in his mind, illuminating the inspiration behind the melody that had been plaguing him all morning. Harry closed his eyes, letting the music flow through him, each note a reflection of the emotions swirling inside him. As he began to write, the words poured out effortlessly, each line a tribute to the girl who had unknowingly saved him over the last few weeks, Brooklyn, with her kind eyes and gentle smile, had been a beacon of hope in his darkest moments. It all came spilling out of him. 

And as the song took shape, Harry knew that this was more than just a melody - it was a tribute to the power of love and connection, a reminder that even in the emptiest of avenues, there was always someone willing to light the way.

[fizzy-tizzy]

Headcanons for all the survivors gender/sexuality

Wilson- Just Kinda decided he was gonna be a boy when he was like 8 and his dad was so desperate for an heir that didn’t want him dead to rights he just kinda let it happen. would fuck anyone but at the same time is not interested at all

Willow- Butch-ish but more in a tomboy kinda way. genuinely likes wearing skirts and more feminine clothing but doesn’t really think she deserves to? if that makes sense? (She doesn’t really feel like a genuine legit girl) hardcore lesbian.

Wolfgang- Very traditionally masculine but in the “My job is to protect and take care of everyone” and not the “im a man so I can do whatever I want” type way. Gay but could totally be in a lavender relationship/marriage and have no problems w/ it

WX-78- Born a cis female, figured out early on that wasn’t right but couldn’t change it until they were an adult. Transed their gender but then figured out being a male wasn’t right either. eventually found someone who felt similarly and abandoned their flesh for the machine. solidly aroace. they’re triple a (agender, asexual, aromantic) just like batteries

Wickerbottom- cis female and “traditionally” feminine, has never felt the need to explore or question it. Used to be married to a man who was secretly gay and looking for someone similarly emotionally unavailable. He has since passed but left wicker a small fortune so. alls well that ends well ig

Wes- kind of a stereotypical femme twink. The kinda gay whos loud and proud and will hit you with a brick if you have a problem with that. feels obligated to help the others try and figure themselves out- esp the ones who are more in denial abt it

Maxwell- I think the idea that max is trans and Jack is cis and they turned out looking the exact same is hilarious. Technically the only ppl who knows he’s trans are jack and charlie- their parents just think he’s a masculine woman and everyone else knows him as a man. Bi and so so weak for bears and gently bossy women.

Wendy- Non-binary but still in the process of realizing it. Does not give a single shit abt romance but would totally be qpp with Webber once they know what that means.

Woodie- Probably Not Cis but has too much religious trauma to even dare questioning himself. He’s like JUST accepted the fact that he’s gay (still thinks hes going straight to hell but we’re working on that) so ynknow baby steps. baby steps. Deffo has a shit ton of body dysphoria due to the wereforms tho

Webber- Since spiders work a lil different in the constant (probably more like bees) there are like three genders Webber could potentially see themselves as. Drone, warrior, and queen. During his childhood he thinks of himself mostly as a drone but as he gets older and his sway over the spiders increases they’ll shift into seeing themselves as more of a queen. But other that he’s pretty much whatever non-spider gender is most convenient. Definitely bi.

Wigfrid- her gender is… strange. What she outwardly presents is her character’s way of presenting herself so ig I see her as kinda fluid? Idk valiant-valkyrie if ur reading this you can probably do a better job of explaining it. you are the defacto wigfrid authority. Definitely lesbian but once again will do whatever the role requires

Winona- Solidly butch lesbian. Definitely a caretaker and a protector but in the butch kinda way and not the femme kinda way. if that makes sense.

Wurt- Butch but hasn’t really realized it yet. does not think human genders apply to her bcs she’s a merm and will 100% be king when she grows up. baby lesbiab. her and wilba’s eventual union shall bring peace to the pig/merm kingdoms once and for all

Wortox- human genders do not apply to him. They are whatever is most convenient at the time. Fluid like loki and bugs bunny.

Walter- if xenogenders existed back then he would totally be like pupgender/buggender. Non-binary but has no problem being called a boy/man. Would be fine with any prns but people have only ever used he/him for him. Probably going to be a monsterf*cker when he grows up.

Wormwood- He is plant. Plants have sexes but no genders and wormwood is intersex anyway but they kinda just chose the first option presented to him once he found the others. Loves all but has absolutely no interest or idea about non-plant reproductive activities.

Walani- Yknow that “as a girl who’s a gross dude men who are fancy ladies are my best friends”? Yeah that’s her and Warly. she’s the emotional support golden retriever to warly’s high-strung cheetah. Lesbian but like. endearingly loser lesbian who’s only ever smooth when she’s not trying to be.

Warly- as mentioned before he is very much a guy who is a fancy lady. Would probably do drag if he had the chance and would 100% be the baddest bitch who makes all the men question their sexuality. Gay and european.

Wanda- doesn’t have time for all that gender questioning bullshit she just wants to kiss women.

Wheeler- Solid futch, leans more feminine or masculine depending on the situation. Woman-leaning bisexual, has probably fucked someone wife and inadvertently caused a divorce.

Woodlegs- pretty solidly cis male but 100% an embarrassing old gay grandpa. Doesn’t know much abt the terminology but is incredibly supportive and was definitely a homewrecker back in the day. Probably got out of at least one arrest by seducing the naval officer meant to bring him in

Wilba- high femme and definitely a baby lesbian. I do really like the idea of her being trans just because why not so why not. She and wurt are fat femme x fat butch once they grow up

Wagstaff- born as a girl but realized he hated it and made attempts to transition early on. Eventually ran away to America to fully transition. Non-binary too but hasn’t realized it yet and just thinks that everyone feels weird when someone calls them mr or sir. men-liker and old man yaoi certified

Wilbur- yes I’m doing the monkey. Gender is a strange concept to him, so he just kinda calls himself male bcs apparently he is? He doesn’t really understand it but it seems to be pretty important in human society so he’ll do it if it means he gets respected as an actual person and not just some sideshow.

[gritsandbrits]

So how;s adam and eve reunion gotta be ? it's must be full with drama

"So this is what youve been up to all these centuries?" Adam remarked, taking note of Eve's outfit. 

Gone were the elegant blue, pink and white robes that denoted her as his Other. Now she wore overalls and a plain gray shirt. A leather ultility belt hung around her hips. Her hair, once a luscious river of brown, was cut shorter and braided. 

"If youre here to take back there the answer is no," replied the brunette.

Hm. it seems looks werent the only thing that changed about Eve.

"I'm not here to take you back, Im just wanted to know how youve been," said Adam. Hs lips formed a sly grin. 

"Though if you want to, I can convince Sera to-"

"You will convince nobody, Im through with that place."  Eve's voice sharpened some more. 

Adam was taken aback. The audacity of this woman he grumbled internally. He didnt know what to think! He was so used to her soft, demure mannerisms. She never raised her voice at anyine not when the kids were acting up, and definitely not at him. 

What changed? 

Adam glanced over at his sweet wittle Abel, who only stood awkwardly at the unexpected family reunion.

Of course, if he played his cards right then Eve would be back by his side by the night's end. She would do anything for their real kids!

But then he remembered Kané. He had told her to hide, that he would not reveal her until he could persuade Eve to hear him out. 

Charlie felt it wasnt her place to interrupt. She didnt know what to say. But she did know Adam had a trick of his sleeve. So she sent him a warning glare, daring him to mess up.

"Ooh this is better than a soap opera," Angel Dust whispered excitedly as he cradeled Phat Nuggets. He was enjoying the mayhem unfolding.

"Normally I wouldnt care about Adam but I'm bored," Veggie replied with equal interest. Even back in her exterminator days it was no secret how Adam treated Eve. He never defended her when other angels scorned & looked down at her, so when news of her disappearance reached her ears, Veggie was not surprised. 

Besides, he had this coming a LONG while. She was glad to have a front row seat at the day of reckoning. 

Husk simply took out his flask. This was going to be a long night. 

All the while Kané stood in her hiding spot behind the cacti. She could see the resemeblance between her mama and Eve, even with obvious differences there was no doubt the First Woman Ever was their grandmother. The way she presented herself caused a wave of comfort for the girl, as if she could trust her with her deepest, darkest secrets. 

Adam was not moved. He didnt expect his wife, his soulmate to reject him like that.

"Now look after everything we've been through, you dont want to be in paradise? We worked hard for it, Evie! You deserve to stay here."

Eve crossed her arms. Adam began to sweat. He really wished he had his mask. 

"I mean, not here in this shitstain or Earth, but up there", he pointed up at the ceiling. "Please Evie, come back to us. We miss you, the rest of the brood miss you."

That part was genuine. He really did miss her. He hated that the one chance at being together again was slipping through his fingers. Lilith was probably cheering somewhere at this update.

Eve shuddered at the pet name. She loathed him for pulling that out, and loathed herself for nearly buying that. Centuries apart and he still managed to makr her weak in the knees.

But she had to keep going! Evelyn Lambert worked too far and too hard to succumb back to that demure helpless trophy everyone expected her to be.

"No. You dont get to call me that! You knew how they treated me and did nothing to stop it! All they did was insult and belittle me, you were my husband and supposed to protect me!" She pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

"Well what did you expect me to do punch every angel who ever looked at us funny? That's not exactly holy behavior," chided Adam. 

"Oh you are a real piece of work my love," Eve snipped. "Like we're all supoosed to ignore that you went off on a mad crusade because you were too spineless to admit all of us are capable of sin? You didnt even think twice that doing so would cause a war!"

Adam winced. He hadn't thought of that. But no matter! There was no war and a mere instance of hell figthing back didn't erase countless years of victories his extermination squad achieved.

"Hey a war wouldn't be possible anyways because look at them! We are much more stronger, they just got lucky," boasted the First Man. 

"And they cheated! That fucking thing stabbed me in the back!" He pointed at Nifty, who could only reply with a satisfied grin. 

"An unnarmed man! And left his kids without both parents!" Adam continued, hoping his put-on was enough to soothe his beloved' heart. 

Abel cupped his face and sighed. Even during a serious moment his fayher loved being a drama king. It was such a common put-on Abel could smell it a mile away. 

Unknown to him, Kané shared the same sentiment. She pinched her nose, wasn't Adam's arrogance the reason why he was in hell in the first place? Why is he regressing all of a sudden? She held her tongue.

Eve gritted her teeth. God, she was so done with her ex's mind games!

As if somebody left the window opened a cold wind blasted through the room. Everyone tensed, Vaggie and Angel ready to move in case things got uglier.

"Talk about hell hath no fury," muttered Kané shrinking hwrself further away. Whisps of curls flew about Eve's face, her eyes glowing even more purple with a protective fury.

Charlie tugged her jacket tightly, her drealocks blowing around her face.  She watched as Eve posed herself straighter. She swore she could see the faint outlines of butterfly wings on the woman.

Before Adam could say anything else (preferably HIDE), Abel finally stepped in and placed comforting hands on his mom's shoulders. He spoke to her in a language Kané couldnt ubdertand. It seemed to calm her down as the wind stopped blowing and the room temp returned to normal. 

"Come on, Let's all sit down and discuss this like real adults." Abel directed that last part at his dad.

"I believe this matter also concerns you Your Highness," he addressed Charlie. 

"Hopefully we can get all this sorted out peacefully," the hell princess spoke. She was ready to intervened one she felt that wind. She wouldnt let anyone get hurt, especially at Adam's hand. 

Shrugging, Adam went over to the table, as Eve Abel and Charlie sat down. The older brunette took a place on the opposite end but still kept her violet eyes on Adam. She had a good mind to throw a wrench at his stupid smexy face. 

Kané still watched as her family began to convers, interspersed with bits of Angel Dust's disappointment at the lackluster resolution. 

For some reason she couldnt muster the courage to step out. Was it fear? Eve would probably hate her if she found out she was Cain's grandkid. 

Suddenly she felt something tugging at the bottom of her jacket. She turned to see a little purple lamb nibbling at her. 

"Hey hey hey shoo shoo!" She spoke as loudly as she could to not give away her position. The lamb was too entranced by the flavor of unwashed polyester. Kané tried to pushed it away but some how she tripped.

"Gah! Fuck!" 

The poor girl fell forward, causing everyone to turn her away. The mischievous scampered off with its prize, a piece of green cloth. 

The four royals got up to see the irritated girl laying on the floor. Eve and Abel could only gape as Charlie rushed over the help her.

Adam froze.

The jig was up.

[themoonking]

given how sexually experienced / sexually confident women are potrayed in lore olympus, it would not suprise me if daphne was written in and characterized the way she is specifically as a response to criticism rachel as recieved.

minthe, thetis, and later leuce are all mature women with sexual experience. they're attractive and they're fully aware of it. they specifically try to appear sexy and desireable, and also have casual sex. coincidentally, they are all presented as shallow, jealous, homewrecking, rude at best and outright cruel at worst, delusional, deserving of scorn and ridicule, et cetera.

this is all in contrast to persephone. she is very young, sexually inexperienced, and her "purity" (both in a sexual sense and a general sense) is emphasized. for the vast majority of the comic's run, she expresses little to no sexual desire. she's incredibly attractive but she doesn't know it and definitely doesn't try to look sexy god forbid. instead, she is unwillingly and unknowingly sexualized by the people around her. she's incredibly naive. she's the poster child for the "born sexy yesterday" trope... and she's constantly faced with attempts to tear her down by the eeeevil promiscuous women who are simply jealous of her effortless pure beauty and how much more desirable she is. when persephone begins to show sexual desire or deliberately dress more provacatively, it's for one (1) man in the context of a monogamous relationship.

so im not saying this 100% is how it went but i could definitely see it happening that rachel smythe saw the (very justified) critique of the (very present) misogyny in her work, but instead of actually taking it to heart and perhaps reflecting on beliefs she may have internalized and how they make their way into her art, then improving herself, she writes daphne.

daphne is a woman who also is sexually experienced and confident, also is fully aware of how attractive she is, also makes a conscious effort to appear sexy and desireable, but she is not depicted as an evil homewrecking bitch. in fact, she coincidentally agrees with everything persephone says and sees nothing wrong with anything she does ever even when it is definitely cause for criticism (such as not seeing the clear favoritism at work as a big deal).

however, the inclusion of one (1) singular positive depiction of a sexually experienced and empowered woman doesn't change the ever present misogyny that permeates lore olympus. persephone's "purity", naivete, and inexperience are still romanticized to some extent. she's supposedly the most attractive goddess around, moreso than aphrodite, having been blessed with beauty twice et cetera... and also her body is eternally 19, sending the message that the height of beauty is a body that is just-barely-legal. minthe's "redemption arc", if one could call it that, is somewhat linked to her engaging in more "acceptable" feminine tasks, such as teaching (and, potentially, if it goes this way, becoming a mother). leuce was written after daphne, and while she's not expressly demonized as other characters, she is written as being stupid, delusional, et cetera.

[hypnotiiize]

𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

   𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺

𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: i got this idea at the literal last minute so i wrote this in a day which is literally unprecedented for me so YOU RLLY JUST GOTTA DEAL W ME IM SAWRY 

     He’d been standing in the aisle for fifteen full minutes before he finally huffed and widened his arms, sweeping up as many gifts as he could manage. 

He peered over the mountain of presents with one keen eye, struggling his way over to the cashier. The seventeen-year-old there just blinked at him warily, too tired from figuring out Calculus to be amused by him. He bent at his waist, his lips pressed into a line as he carefully laid everything on the black conveyer belt. 

The seventeen-year-old’s eyes darted from the man to everything he’d laid out, her lips a little turned up as she asked dryly, “Is that all?” 

Richarlison hadn’t heard the bite in her tone, too busy questioning if he’d gotten enough to make the woman on his mind happy. “Yes!” 

“Great.” She grabbed a heart-shaped box and pushed it past the scanner.

Richarlison only processed her words just as she’d scanned the very first teddy bear. “Do you think it’s enough?” he asked unsurely, positive that the teenage girl would know more about love and gift-giving than him. 

The girl, Kayla by the looks of her nametag, scoffed in return.

Richarlison’s eyes widened as he assumed the worst. A scoff could mean nothing good. “No?” 

“I mean,” the girl backtracked at the dread in his voice. She shrugged. “It depends on how many girlfriends you have. If you have about six, you should be fine,” she quipped, shaking her head at the Ain’t Shit nature of even the most handsome, tall, and brooding of men. 

Richarlison shook his head cluelessly. “But… I don’t have a girlfriend.” Did he have to have a girlfriend? 

Kayla’s hands paused on a stuffed turtle. “You don’t? Then why are you getting all this stuff? Not that it’s my business, I’m just really nosy,” she added sincerely, glancing to him as she scanned the special edition Twizzlers. 

He had to fight to catch his breath at the thought of his valentine. “It’s for my,” he paused for five long seconds, contemplating his relationship (or lack thereof) with the woman of his dreams. The balls of his cheeks were pink when he finally said, “Friend.”

“Yeah, it’s for your… friend,” replied the seventeen-year-old, making a show of hesitating just as long as he did. His bashful gaze fell on a stuffed elephant as he nodded. “Well, if it’s just for one friend, this is more than enough. It might even classify as wealth hoarding if you get anything more.”

Whatever that meant. 

“I’m not sure what she would like,” he confessed in a murmur, gnawing on his lip.  

Kayla shrugged. “Just call her and ask.”

“I can’t do that!” he rasped quickly, a little shocked that she had even suggested such a thing. “I have to surprise her. She has to be surprised,” he whispered the second bit to himself, definitive in his conclusion. 

Kayla shrugged again. “Well, then, these are fine. She’s gotta like one of ‘em.”

“I hope so,” he breathed.

“I hope so, too, random man. I hope so, too.”

On his way home, as he juggled three large bags, he watched a man stop at a vendor on the sidewalk. The man, whose greyed tufts of hair protruded from underneath his Kangol hat, was beaming as he communicated with the seller. Richarlison watched as the man gently lifted a bouquet of carnations and then strolled away, stopping beside a woman before kissing her on the cheek and handing her the flowers. The woman gasped deeply with joy, and suddenly Richarlison was making a beeline toward that very vendor.

He was contemplating holding the bouquet of flowers in between his teeth when he spotted a baby in a store holding the gift– the very one that he knew he had to get for the woman. He had to walk through the front door sideways to fit, and still, he was not deterred; he navigated his way through the aisles easily, finding the present he knew was hers and even some that caught his eye. By the time Richarlison reached his home, his wallet had lost a considerable amount of weight and he was holding seven shopping bags. 

He was sure it was worth it. 

She found him on his street just as the sun began to set, handing out valentines to anyone that would walk his way. He smiled sweetly at her as she sauntered to his side, her own smile uncontrollable as she watched him hand a little girl a teddy bear.

“What, the whole neighborhood’s your valentine?” She laughed as she wrapped her arm around his torso in a hug. 

He reminded himself not to blush at the heat her presence generated in his chest, his heart dancing to her the familiar beat that her proximity brought on. “Well, some people don’t have valentines,” he said after a second, regarding the nature of the holiday. “So... I guess so!”

(Plus he had about two hundred dollars worth of merchandise that would’ve gone bad after sifting for the gifts he wanted to give her, but it would take him years to tell her just how much he’d splurged that day.)

She craned her neck to make eye contact with him, and he was sure his heart stopped right there. “You’re really sweet,” she praised quietly, just for him to hear. 

He was begging himself not to blush. “So are you.”

“Wait, speaking of sweet,” she began, moving away from him to open her purse. He mourned what was once her presence as she said, “I have a lil’ something for you.” 

He had a lot of something for her, but– and his inner voice stumbled over itself in his head at this– not in that way. Unless–? No, no, not in that way. 

“Don’t feel bad if you didn’t get me anything.” 

He got her Target’s whole catalog but he was currently giving it away. 

“Here.” 

She placed a white box in his hands and just before he opened it, Richarlison could only feel grateful for the text he’d gotten yesterday from one of his ever-prying teammates, asking who his Valentine was, as he may have forgotten altogether. 

He lifted the top and found himself staring at lightly-dusted squares of what he predicted was bread. She leaned closer to peer inside the box with him.

“They’re beignets. You ever had one?” she asked goodnaturedly. 

“No, I haven’t,” his voice threatened to crack with his reply as he became overwhelmed with the fact that she had thought of him– on a day like that, no less. He would wonder, later, what that could possibly mean, though at that moment he had to remain as stoic as possible lest he expose the fact that he was head over heels for her. 

He eyed the treat she’d given him, humming as he realized that they reminded him of something. “They’re like from that movie… Sapo, sapo,” he repeated softly under his breath, his mind racing to recall the word in English. 

Her grin broadened as her eyebrows raised. “Are you talking about The Princess and the Frog?”

“I think so.”

“Well, does it have a princess and a frog? A little green guy?”

“Yes!”

“That’s the one! Rich, I love that movie! What you know about that?!” 

“My sisters and cousins really liked it,” he explained.

“That’s what I was thinking of when I made you these,” she noted, laughing sweetly as she tapped on the top of the box with the pad of her finger.

His chest hurt from his heart beating so quickly. “You made these?” he asked after a moment, pausing to ensure that he had cleared the nerves from his voice.

“I made them,” she confirmed proudly.

He was having trouble catching his breath. “For me?”

“For you.” 

Don’t faint, don’t faint.

She pressed on upon the lack of response from Richarlison, gesturing wildly with her hands as she spoke, “I was kinda bored and I was like ‘hm, I wonder what Rich is doing’ and then I realized that it was about to be Valentine’s Day, so I was like let me be nice to him real quick and– oh my God?” 

Her confused words had been muttered against the fabric of Richarlison’s sweater after he’d wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest in a quick motion– way too quick for her to duck back, as he was sure she would. Richarlison was sure she could hear how fast his heart was pumping. He himself could hear his heartbeat reverberating in his head; he could feel it in his fingertips that clutched the white box she’d given him. 

“You crying?” she wondered, wrapping her hand around his muscle in an attempt to clear her airways. He was simply too big to hug her in that way, she was sure she’d almost suffocated.

“Shhh,” he countered, and she giggled against his bicep. “Thank you. That’s really nice.”

She sighed as if in awe of herself. “I know.”

The two stayed outside until the final chocolate box was handed out, and then five minutes more when a group of kids came by asking Richarlison if he could give them money for the store. This was not her first time watching him cough up money to kids as if they were bullies in the eighties, and she doubted it would be the last– Richarlison would give a kid the shirt off his back in zero-degree weather. The kids chorused pitchy goodbyes to the both of them before speeding off, leaving them to turn to each other and laugh a little at their eagerness. 

She did not say what she wanted to say: that he looked handsome and his generosity was giving her heart palpitations.

He did not say what he wanted to say: that she looked beautiful and he wanted to place his hands on either side of her face to pull her lips to his… And also that he was kind of sure he’d accidentally given one of those kids a fifty.

They stared at each other until their eyes began to sting. When they entered his home, just as sky morphed into a dark hue of blue, she found his couch covered in presents.

“There’s more?” she asked in shock. She moved toward the sofa and tilted her head at the sparkly gift bag smack dab on the middle cushion, reaching out to rub a gentle finger against the red glitter there. She glanced to Richarlison. “Is this one even yours, or is it your roommate’s?”

Richarlison had thought of how he would give the presents to her fleetingly throughout the day– he found, however, when faced with the woman of his dreams he couldn’t form any semblance of thought. He stood before her kind of stoically.

She scrunched her face up. “Wait, do you even have a valentine? I didn’t ask.” This was, of course, due to her apprehension regarding whatever his answer would be. She pressed her lips together as he teetered a little side to side.

“I don’t have a valentine,” he said a bit haltingly. “Do…” he gulped, “Do you?”

She blinked at him. “Do I have a valentine?” 

“Do you have a valentine?” he questioned simply, losing feeling in his fingertips from his nerves.

“No, I don’t think I technically do.”

He would ignore the ‘technically.’

“Because I,” he started shakily, crossing the room in two easy strides and stopping a few inches away before her. 

This was it, the moment he imagined: striding over to her in a silver suit, sitting on a stallion— her knight in shining armor— and romantically declaring that, that big, sparkly gift bag was hers. 

In real-time, he choked. “I, uh… Hey, this is yours,” he said, pointing to the present. 

He was shocked to find that she was still gasping deeply despite his lackluster approach. She appeared rocked by his words as if she had truly not been expecting him to think of her, her mouth agape and a hand over her heart. He was unsure how she could even think such a thing, as his every thought began and end with her. He could not fathom the fact that she did not know how important she was to him, and this, in turn, shocked him. 

“It’s mine? You got me something?” Her wide eyes searched his desperately, though she knew Richarlison would never play with her that way. 

His brown eyes fell to his shoes, confident that if he looked at her for a second longer he would turn beet red. He could already feel the tips of his ears scorching, begging him to press an ice pack against them. 

Her hand lifted up hesitantly before she laid her warm palm against his clavicle and he was sure he was knocking on heaven’s gates. She pressed there, turning him toward her as her left hand grabbed his right arm. She wrapped his arm low around her waist and pulled him against her, his heart mere inches from her own. 

She smelled like his childhood. She smelled like sweet treats and the Sun and water balloons. She smelled like everything he’d ever known, and he decided he would do everything in his power to keep her with him. 

“Thank you, Rich,” she whispered against the skin of his neck. “It means a lot.” 

His cheeks burned and he no longer cared to hide it. “It means a lot to me, too.” 

She snaked her fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck and tightened her hold there gently, pulling away in the next moment to assess the gift bag. She sat to its right and he sat to its left, his lip caught between his teeth as he watched her peek inside. She closed two fingers around the tissue paper and delicately tugged it onto her lap. Richarlison promptly reached over and gathered the jumble of reds and pinks from her legs, placing it beside him on the couch just as she pulled out a bouquet of wine-colored roses. 

They were wrapped in white paper, a pink bow tied around them for good measure. There was a pang somewhere in her chest at the realization that they were placed in a heart, with the rose in the middle not even being a rose at all— instead, smack dab in the middle of the deep red bouquet, laid a jasmine flower the color of a pearl.

She recalled being in his room many times in passing, and each time her eyes would find the jasmines placed on his nightstand. She would chuckle each time she saw them, and he would give her the same excuse, “I think they’re pretty.”

“Oh my God,” she said before she could think, sweeping a finger along one of the petals of the white flower. 

“That one is from my room,” he told her, and then laughed. “I almost broke my vase.”

Her gaze snapped to the man on the couch, wide and amazed at something Richarlison was not too sure of. “You put this together yourself?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he answered easily, shrugging. He had not yet caught the glossy sheen zipping across her irises, too caught up in elaborating, “The roses were really beautiful, but they were missing something more. And I like jasmines. They’re pretty. I wanted to give you something really, really beautiful and pretty.”

(There was a flash in which she thought of that one Nicki Minaj verse, in which she rapped about putting something on a man’s sideburns.) 

 “Do you like it?” Richarlison asked, studying her pretty face to find her blinking hard to get something out of her eye— Richarlison guessed maybe a dust particle had gotten in. 

“I love it,” she mused.

His heart fluttered at her praise. “There’s more in the bag,” he said, taking the flowers from her so that her hands were free. 

She plucked the next gift from the bag: a huge heart-shaped box of chocolates. She laughed when Richarlison reached over her and grabbed a chocolate for himself the moment she pried it open, his sweet tooth notorious to the point that he had even ended up grabbing the box from her to keep eating as she craned her neck back to the bag. 

When the final gift was out, and she’d settled it on her lap, Richarlison watched as she cupped her hands over her mouth and chuckled loudly. He smiled, too, grateful that he had anticipated her reaction so accurately; he’d expected her awed laughter and had been looking forward to it ever since he’d bargained with a baby for it. 

Okay, so he bribed the baby.

Okay, so the baby got away with a hundred-dollar bill. 

Whatever.

“Stop,” she breathed, shaking her head with a grin. “Stop.”

She brushed a finger against the lines on the stuffed toy before her– yellow, black, yellow, black, yellow, black, until her finger landed on the smooth material of its pink heart-shaped wings. It was a bee holding a fluffy red heart between its tiny arms and grinning at her lopsidedly. Bee Mine! Read the toy, and she swore her temples were beginning to ache from how hard she was smiling. 

He’d been calling her Honey for weeks, having found himself enamored with the emoji she’d pressed into his phone the very first time they met. He parted his lips to say this to her, to tell her that the plush bee represented the nickname, though when she shoved the gift bag off the couch and crawled into his lap— wrapping her smooth arms around his neck in a tight embrace— he assumed that she’d probably made the connection herself. 

She pressed her lips against his cheek once and then twice before saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Rich,” and kissing him there a third time.

He was sure he’d been hallucinating, though the feel of her waist underneath his hands threw a wrench in that theory. Still, he felt nonplussed; there were many dreams of him in which they’d always end up in that same position, her poised in his lap with her arms around his neck. He had to blink a few times to snap back to reality. He was a little dazed as he tightened his fingers around her midriff, having to fight to catch his breath at the feeling of her ribcage constricting. She was real and alive and in his lap. He was tempted to FaceTime all of his friends and go on a long tangent. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he breathed. 

She did not wish to go home, and he did not wish to be apart from her. Thus, the answer was simple: the two ate beignets and watched The Princess and the Frog, her arms thrown across his torso in an effort to both fit on the couch. 

As the Voodoo Priestess on the screen sang about digging a little deeper, he laid his cheek against her slicked bun and smelled the sweet treats and the Sun and water balloon. He smelled everything he’d ever known, and then some. Richarlison’s gaze flitted from the screen to the woman tucked into his side, and for the first time in a very long time, he did not feel absolutely foreign in the country that was not his own. 

[9w1ft]

How do you find LGBTQ+ people are viewed in Japan? Is it safe to come out?

i think it’s a bit of a mixed bag

on the one hand, laws and civic setups are still pretty antiquated (gay marriage is only recognized in several cities, still very common for forms to provide man/woman as the only options for gender, etc) on the other hand, even as we move at a snail’s pace, ending discrimination is, in general, a publicly communicated goal for the country, and many big businesses have proactively adopted lgbtq+ friendly policies without waiting for the government (gender inclusive bathrooms and uniforms, access to family benefits for partners regardless of gender, etc).

there is definitely representation of a variety of lgbtq+ people in media both in fiction and also news/variety tv though it can get a bit trope-y at times especially with effeminate stereotypes. still, there is a history of gender swapping / adopted gender presentation in theater (kabuki, takarazuka), and many known famous historical figures having same sex suitors and confidantes, so i think that more than in some countries people are predisposed to the idea of gender as a concept and the existence of gay people who have done important things. its also not incompatible with religions indigenous to japan, so there’s not so much a “you’re going to hell” vibe to the prejudice, its more of a “why do you insist on being different” prejudice if that makes sense. not great but it could be a lot worse.

i was part of a lgbtq+ circle at university and a gay friend of mine told me there’s a phrase that goes something like “it’s okay to be gay as long as you have a wife and kids” so once again just this idea that older generations value maintaining a public face for the sake of the group, whereas gayness is considered a subculture or private part of oneself.

so i think in terms of coming out i think it really depends on your situation, like my understanding (based on the stories of japanese friends i have) is that in general you would closet during your school years to avoid potential bullying for being different (maybe be out to close friends) but it’s much easier to come out in university or to move to a bigger city as a young adult. easier to find your people. but you might be careful when dating and stick to places where you know gay people are. you might closet at your company as well depending on the industry, and it’s a bit of a don’t ask don’t tell vibe socially among strangers, but it’s not necessarily something you’d hide.. if that makes sense. in my case i flag at work and i definitely know lgbtq people because they flag too and i know they know im flagging. but we don’t really talk about it. we just vibe and are extra kind to one another.

in terms of if it’s “safe” i’d say once again it depends but that there’s less (not zero but less) of a physical safety issue than many countries. even so, irl harassment exists and internet harassment is also a thing especially for out public figures. you might hesitate to come out to family or friends just so as not to ‘upset the order of things’ or to chance making people you love uncomfortable. over time your parents might ask why you won’t marry or won’t have kids like so-and-so’s daughter or so-and-so’s son.. these social pressures and tensions, especially in important relationships, can lead to depression and because mental health is also not that progressively talked about here, this is the part that is most dangerous, in my opinion.

just as a footnote this is all my impression of the generation of my age group and the ones above it and i think things are a little more relaxed or open for the next generation. but i think it’ll take one or two more generations to get to the point where it is in the US where everyone’s like, out and proud and colorful at school and work and among strangers. so once again, it’s not great, but i feel like things could be a lot worse.