#something about being raised christian and a girl and leaving both

[exmotranny]

beaded bracelet grasped/like a rosary

hands pressed together/hands in prayer

sit in a circle/say the words

sing the songs/we all know

you're part of the group/you are one of us

candlelit comfort/been around forever

generations of girls/exact same thing

beads/bracelet

hands/prayer

group/circle

holy/night

famous/ritual

now you are older and have left/the group

now you cannot relate/to those days

no longer a girl/no longer believe

hands sit loosely/stay silent

left the circle/they talk about you

your short hair/your old jeans

original/not worthy

happier/now

[vivwritesfics]

Better Than He Ever Was - MV1

This gif makes me feral - I am on my KNEES

Y/N is pregnant and Max is sweating

Related works: Mini Me Prodigy

When Y/N Verstappen found out she was pregnant with Fabian, Max was terrified. He was utterly, utterly terrified.

He played it well, cheering and happy smiles when Y/N showed him the pregnancy test. To everybody on the outside, he was the overjoyed father to be, talking about Y/N and their baby on the way any chance he got.

There were very few people who saw beneath the facade Max was putting on. The first was Christian Horner, who himself was like a father to Max. The next was Charles Leclerc, who was way too excited at rhe prospect of being an uncle that he forgot he wouldn't actually be related to the baby.

Both said the same thing: that Max should talk to Y/N about it.

But where was he to begin? How did he tell her, after seeing how happy she was, that he wasn't ready to have a baby.

When she started showing? Oh boy.

It was never something Y/N wanted to keep hidden. As soon as she had all the tests she had taken come back positive, she posted something to all of her social media's. Max did, too, playing his part well.

Y/N didn't wear baggy clothes to hide her bump; she showed it off with pride. At every single grand prix she'd be standing beside her husband, hand over her stomach and the press took pictures of them.

Most husbands, when their wife's baby bump began showing, would be over the moon. But when Y/N started showing, it just made Max more fearful.

Y/Ns very first proper indication of the was when they were discussing baby names.

Any moment she got, Y/N was writing down potential names. She had at least twenty of each.

"How do you like Felix?" Y/N asked him as they watched a movie together. Max had been sim racing all day; this was the first proper moment she'd had to spend with him. "Or Daniel?"

"Daniel can be the middle name if it's a boy," Max said as he fed her a Malteaser.

Y/N moved over to her list of girls names. "If it's a girl, I liked Mila. Thought Mila Verstappen had a really nice ring to it."

Max just hummed.

It was two weeks after that Y/N finally sat him down.

"What's going on with you?" She asked, her hand resting on her bump. That morning her snack of choice had been stroopwafels, and she'd accidentally finished the entire box (but who could blame her? They're addictive).

"What do you mean?" Asked Max as he lifted the box to see what he was inside. Nothing, empty. He made a mental note to buy more.

A terrible, horrible feeling settled in Y/Ns stomach. "Please, Maxie," she placed her hand over his, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. "Tell me what's going on. I'm begging you!"

Max let out a huff. He hated himself. "I love you," he said, which definitely wasn't concerning. "I love you so much and I know how excited you are to have our baby, but I don't know if I can do it."

Her heart was beating so loud she was sure Max could hear it. "Wha-what are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I'm so fucking scared, Y/N. I'm terrified of being a dad. What if I raise our child like my dad raised me and the kid ends up like me? I'd never be able to forgive myself if that happened."

Oh. This wasn't a dire as Y/N thought it was. This was something she could deal with. "Come here," she said softly and tried to pull his chair closer. Max shuffled over. He let Y/N wrap her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember last summer, when we went on holiday with my sister and her kids? Do you remember how they loved you so much that they wouldn't leave you alone?"

They'd rented out a villa. Max and Y/N had just come back from their honeymoon when Y/N's sister had invited them away.

As soon as they had their things unpacked, the kids grabbed their uncle Max's hands and dragged him into the pool. "Let's race!" The oldest shouted. Max was more than happy to oblige. He raced them to the other side of the pool and back, letting them win, of course.

When Y/N and his sister started on lunch, Max was blowing up the inflatable pool toys and looking after the baby. He was a natural with all three of them. Y/N watched them out of the window as she buttered the bread and passed it to her sister. That was when she realised how wonderful of a father Max was going to be. That was when she realised she wanted to have his children.

By the end of the holiday, the children were obsessed with him. According to Y/N's sister they didn't stop talking about him until at least two weeks after the holiday.

Max nodded his head. At first he'd been secretly reluctant to entertain the kids. But he loved it, and he actually found it fun. Of course, it wouldn't be the same when it was his own child.

"You're going to be an amazing father, Max. You're so kind and caring and kids love you. Plus, you're aware of how shitty your dad was to you, you know what you have to differently," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I'll be there with you every step of the way," Y/N whispered and kissed the top of her head.

Max was still terrified, but he was trying not to be. But Y/N saw him change. He really did become that cheering and happy father he was pretending to be at the start.

Aside from Formula One, Max's life became getting Y/N whatever she and the baby were craving. Stroopwafels, mostly.

They discussed names more when Max became more comfortable. He was a big fan of Nora. Nora Sophie Verstappen. It had a very nice ring to it, Max thought. Little baby Nora.

They'd struggled to settle on a name for a boy. After Max had suggested his mothers name for the baby's middle name, Y/N was afraid Jos' name was going to be thrown into the mix. Not after all of Max's fears and anxiety. They'd decided Hugo, Hugo Verstappen was to be his name.

If it was up to Y/N, Jos wouldn't be in the child's life. But, of course, it wasn't just up to her. It was a decision she and Max had to make together.

When they found out they were having a little boy, Y/N and Max were over the moon. They decorated the nursery, painting the walls to be like a Formula One track. The bottom third was all grass, the middle was the track and the rest was blue skies with fluffy clouds.

The track went all the way around the room, with little race cars painted onto the track. There was a little Red Bull with a 33 on it, and a little Ferrari with a 16. It was a friend who painted it for them, going into intricate details for the cars and garages.

And then Y/N went into labour.

All of those fears Max had managed to get past came flooding back. His wife was about to give birth to his little boy.

Max wasn't much help through the delivery. Actually, through most of it he wasn't allowed in the delivery room, since he was panicking too much.

He wasn't a Hugo. That was what Y/N and Max decided the moment he was born. He was a Fabian. Fabian Hugo Verstappen. He was the most gorgeous little boy in the world. That was all Max could think as he stared at him, cradles in his wife's arms.

His son. His boy.

"Welcome to the world, Fabian Hugo Verstappen."

[nirvanawrites111]

Set My Wings on Fire (DPR Ian x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You're smitten by the love of your life, Christian Yu and he's being painted as a dangerous person. But, you don't care cause that's your man and you're going to stick beside him. You're pretty much in love with a villain, but he's super sweet to you. Non-celebrity AU.

Pairing: DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Smut, PIV, oral sex (male rec), mentions of murder, praise kink, good girl, unprotected sex, creampie

This is part of a NEW SERIES called Duality. It's all about embracing switch!energy. Part 1 will be sub!reader and Part 2 will be dom!reader. Some of the stories will be 2 idols x reader, and some will be just 1 on 1.

Smut below the cut.

"You need to leave him alone," Your best friend voices as they stare at the large television on your wall. The dim glow casts a shadow across your living room.

You press your lips together and cross your arms. A tightness crawls up your chest. This is the last thing you want to hear right now. You are tired of hearing this comment right now. You feel around your couch for the remote. You can't bother to listen to the news channel any longer.

"Look," you begin, forcing yourself to meet their gaze. "I know Christian very well. The media is trying to make up stories about him. He's not the monster they're making him out to be," You speak up and express your feelings. You twist his ring that he gave you a year ago, and you decide to wear it as a necklace.

You know Christian better than anyone. Everything he does has a meaning and purpose behind it.

You stare at the image of his picture plastered on the television. His usual neat dark brown hair is a mess, and his eyeliner is smeared. Underneath his picture are large red letters "WANTED" that contrast against his pale complexion. Sure, he might seem dangerous to someone else, but to you, something magnetizes you to him.

"The man is a killer, Y/n. If he comes here, you need to turn him in. You don't want to go to jail for housing a fugitive, do you?"

"He isn't a killer. I don't care what the media is saying."

You pick up your phone off the couch table and see that he texted you five minutes ago that he was on his way. You quickly text back and tell him to wait until your best friend leaves.

"This man has brainwashed you. Hopefully, you realize the truth before it's too late." Your best friend raises their hands in defeat and stands up. "I gotta go. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"He's not, but thanks for stopping by," you reply, trying to smooth things.

Your friend stands up and hugs you. You're glad they are leaving. There is nothing that will convince you that Christian is a bad person. Even with everything you know about him, you would never turn on him.

You walk with them to your front door, and the soft patter of your bare feet echoes against the polished hardwood floor.

Once they leave you close the door only to be slightly pushed open, revealing Christian.

There he is.

The only man that can make you melt to your knees. You want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you.

"Beautiful," Christian, your accented lover, whispers your favorite nickname. He steps into your home. His words allow you to fall to your knees and please your man. But, you don't want to act too thirsty.

He removes his hood with both hands and reveals his hair in messy, shoulder-length loose curls. The two of you stand in your foyer, and your eyes connect.

Christian has such a dark energy around him that it attracts you to him for whatever reason. It pulls you in so closely, like a moth to a flame. Regardless of what others say, you can still see the good in him. He's been nothing but kind, patient, and loving to you. So, really, that's all that matters to you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him.

Christian removes his sweatshirt, and your eyes trace over his tattoos. You run your hand over the one tattoo over his heart, your name.

"I'm so much better, now that I'm with you."

"I'm sure you know they're looking for you."

"I know," Christian sighs. "I'm also wanted for something. What is it this time?"

"Murder."

Christian stares into your eyes, and he can heart your heart beating fast. No one has ever cared about him more than you. Your unwavering loyalty is something he's searched for many years. Now, he's found exactly what he needs within you.

"Do you think I'm guilty?" Christian asks you.

"No, but if you did it, I know there was a reason."

"Good girl. You know your man oh too well," Christian praises you. He knows it's exactly what you need to hear in this moment.

Your lips curl into a smile, and you haven't looked away from him. He knows that nothing about him scares you. He's told you his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he knows he can trust you.

"I do. My best friend was just running their mouth talking about how I need to leave you alone. But, they don't know you like I do."

"Do you need me to handle that?"

"No, never that."

"We have some catching up to do. Don't we, angel?"

"Yes."

***

You turn on the shower and step into it first. Christian follows behind you. He presses you against the shower wall from behind. "My angel.. so pure. So innocent," he whispers into your ear.

Christian runs his hand down your back, enough to give you chills. You've missed feeling his touch against your skin.

"You know I'm far from innocent."

"Compared to me. You're a saint."

Christian attacks your neck with kisses. This instantly sends a warmth throughout your body. You've missed the way his lips feel against your skin. You don't care what happens when he's out of your sight. Because this man adores you, he'd do anything to protect you.

"Sweetness, tell me.." Christian pulls away from you and turns you around to face him. His gaze penetrates your eyes, searching for something unspoken. "Do you really love me?"

His eyes are full of emotions, and you can see the pureness in his question. But, at the same time, why would he question you this way? You've always supported him no matter what.

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Even if I had to leave you for a bit?"

Your breath quickens, and you can feel your stomach churn. Is he going to up and leave you? Does this mean he's going to end things with you?

"Where are you going?" You twist your necklace.

Christian picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as the warm water cascades down the two of you.

"I'm not sure. But, I'm leaving in 48 hours."

"Because of what I saw on the news?" You try to piece everything together. Did this mean that it was true? You didn't want to ask him what happened because you trusted him.

He promised you he would never do anything that would jeopardize his time with you. He stated that from the beginning. But, now, it felt like things were going differently.

"Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

"Hell no. I will get this sorted out. I will come back for you."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Angel?"

"Yes."

"Don't I always come back for you?"

"Yes.. but."

"No, buts. Listen, you have to trust me. I will come back for you, okay?"

You nod. But, your fear is he's going to leave you.

"Angel, don't look so sad. I wish I could take you with me. It's going to pain me to leave you."

"Well let me taste you for the last time."

"Of course, angel."

Christian releases from his arms, and you get down on your knees. You look up at him.

He strokes your face and looks at you in such a loving way.

You hold your hands behind your back and swirl your tongue around his dick until he's halfway in your mouth.

You hum your favorite song and move your mouth up and down his length. This could be the last time you taste him, so you want to savor the moment.

You close your eyes and move faster and hear him moan. You love hearing him vocalize his satisfaction for you.

"Go deeper for me, angel," Christian instructs you, and you have no problem following instructions.

You take him deeper into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head. He's moving with you to the point where you two are rocking as one.

At this moment, you are breathing through your nose because you only want to please him. You live to serve him. You are hopelessly devoted to him.

"Fuck.. just like this," Christian groans. "Don't stop, angel. God, you're so beautiful like this."

"Mmmhm," you barely manage to say because you have your mouth full and wouldn't want to have it any other way. Tonight has to count and hold you over.

"No one else can suck me the way you do. You're so amazing, angel," Christian continues to praise you, which encourages you to keep going because you know he's so close.

"You want this nut don't you?"

You nod without missing a beat, and both of his hands are on the back of your head. He's practically fucking your throat at this point.

He cums down your throat, and you swallow all of it.

Christian pulls you up to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth and kisses you. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but run your fingers along your pussy only to find that it are dripping for him.

"Thank you for that amazing blow job, angel. You're always amazing."

"No problem."

Christian wraps his arms around you. "Mhmm.. I'm ready to feel all of you now. You want that, baby?"

"Yess.."

"How do you want me?"

"From behind.. like this." You turn around, place your hands against the shower wall, and arch your back.

Christian places his hand against your lower back and moves his dick along your entrance. "You know I love taking you from behind. Do you want me here or do you want back door."

"Here.. I want to feel you deep inside me. I prefer anal when I'm pegging you."

Christian kisses on the side of your neck. "I know baby.. next time when I come home. We can celebrate with pegging." He sucks on your neck and inches himself into you.

Feeling him inside of you feels like home. There's nothing like having him deep inside of you.

"You're so tight for me, angel," Christian whispers against your neck, kissing gently against the spot he just sucked on.

You moan out his name and enjoy him being inside of you again.

The feeling is euphoric, and you get lost in the moment of being one with your lover again. His hands cover and clasps with yours as he strokes into you.

You hope you celebrate with him, but you want to enjoy this moment. You arch your back a little more as he increases the pace. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. It feels too good. You deserve to experience this type of heaven on earth.

Christian holds you in place as he slows down with each backshot he gives you, and he reaches from behind and runs his hand down the front of your love nest. He moves to your clit and strokes it.

"Yesss, baby! I love when you rub my clit," you moan out.

"I know you do." Christian continues to rub it while you tighten around his dick. "My baby is close. Are you going to cum on my dick?"

"Mmhmm," you moan. But, at the point, you're already trembling from the combination of his teasing your clit and being buried inside you. The sensation is perfect. It's a feeling that never gets old. No matter how many times he gives you an orgasm, it always feels as good as the first time.

"So, be a good girl and cum for me."

"That's it.. baby. Cum on dick." He instructs you and talks you through it. You obey him easily. You release onto his dick. He's right there with you as he pumps into you until he cums inside you.

"Mmm.. thank you, baby," you say, trying to catch your breath.

"No, thank you angel. You were wonderful as always. I can't wait to celebrate with you when I come back."

If you enjoyed this please reblog. It helps other find my work.

Part 2

[kortsitron]

Corruption

✮ PARING Hobie Brown × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS reader realizes he's trans, pre-transition reader, religious themes, christianity, fluff, angst, supportive! hobie, reader is referred to as a girl/daughter in some moments, hobie and reader are both young adults, gender dysphoria, toxic parents, abuse, transphobia, cursing, reader is referred by she/her by his parents, happy ending

✮ SUMMARY A stranger comes to your town and helps you realize who you are

✮ A/N  If you know me, you probably know my opinion on Christianity and religion in general, but I won't lie, I kinda like the religious themes. Especially when it's about being taken out of it and realizing that the world has so much to offer once you leave it. I guess it's my type of thing since I have been raised as a catholic little ‘girl’ and now I hate religion with pure passion after having it shown down my throat for years when I was younger. One more thing, if you're not comfortable, please do not read this. I am aware there are people who can be triggered by any of the things mentioned in the warnings/tags. If you decide to read this, I hope you're going to enjoy it! <3

In a way inspired by confessions by @eyesxxyou

ao3 masterlist requests

You were such a perfect girl in everyone's eyes. Always so nice and polite, obedient towards your parents, in church every Sunday. You were so feminine, so lovely. Always wore those pretty dresses and skirts of yours, along with the necklace with virgin Mary on your pretty neck. And your gorgeous long hair. You were a perfection to everyone around you.

But you didn't feel perfect in the slightest.

You felt so wrong for some reason you couldn't quite name. Your body felt like a cage you couldn't get out of and you didn't know why. All you knew was that you wanted to cut your hair, hide your body under some baggy clothing and yell at everyone who called you a girl. But obviously you couldn't do that, no matter how much you wanted to. You didn't want people to look at you weirdly, to call you a freak. 

So you decided to stay quiet, knowing that nothing was going to change because you were too scared to do it on your own. Scared of judgment and scared of being abandoned. 

All you did was pray that your sinful fantasies would simply go away. But instead of them going away, something else happened. Like the prayers from the depth of your heart have been heard and finally answered.

You saw him after the Sunday mass, as you were standing next to your mother while she was talking with someone else. He was nothing like you've ever seen before. Those piercing glistening in the sunlight just like the spikes on his vest. The distressed pants with patches and chains. And those heavy boots. He was the definition of perfection, definitely not to those around you, but for you without a doubt.

You have caught eye contact with that beautiful stranger. His stunning brown eyes stared into yours as he smirked at you. He probably thought you were just a pretty girl, you assumed. After all, why would he think differently?

“Do not look at him.” Your mother scolded you, grabbing you by your shoulder and turning you to face her. You could see the disgust on her face. You’ve never seen her with that kind of grimace on her face. “I do not want to see you near him. I can already tell he's no good.”

She didn't say it, but you could already tell she saw him as the embodiment of everything that was sinful. And the last thing she wanted was her precious daughter to stray from God's path.

You glanced at the punk for the last time before your mother said that you were going home. He still watched you. He wasn't sure what it was about you that made him want to get to know you. But something inside him told him that you needed him.

Since then you saw him around the town, but you didn't dare to come close to him. You felt a rush of excitement in your stomach every time you saw him, saw that smirk of his. You didn't have anyone who excited you the way he did. But he indeed did excite you, but you couldn't even talk to him, being scared your parents might yell at you.

Everything changed when you were peacefully reading the bible on the bench next to the church. It was so warm and sunny, so you picked a spot under a tree. Your hair was made into a long braid that was getting more loose without you noticing. 

You then heard someone sit next to you. You looked up from the bible to see him. That beautiful punk, smirking at you shamelessly. He looked even better up close. 

“Hello, luv. I'm Hobie.” His voice was lower than you thought it would be. But it sounded so good, so smooth you could almost melt. His eyes looked from your face to the bible you held your hand, then back to your face. You started wondering what was on his mind. “What's your name, hmm?”

You bashfully told him your name. You weren't sure how to act. Was he expecting you to pretend to be this perfect girl everyone perceived you as? Or maybe he was finally someone that could let you be yourself? Either way, you were scared to find out.

He chuckled at your bashful reaction. Your cheeks got pink so quickly. You were just so adorable. And so… innocent. But you had a feeling he could see right through you. See that all of this was just a facade and under all of it, there was a real you, trying to get to the surface. Trying to be free.

“Have you ever listened to punk rock?” Hobie asked out of nowhere. You blinked. You? Listening to loud, unapologetic music? You could never do that. At least not without worrying about being judged.

Finally you shook your head and his smirk widened. “Darlin’, we have to change that immediately.” He saw you shake your head even more. 

You heard about punk rock. The unapologetic and loud music for brutal men who have abandoned God's ways and all the rules. At least that's what you have been told by your mother. “They are good for nothing but corrupting the minds of pretty girls like you. And I cannot let that happen.” She told you and you wondered if Hobie was that type of punk. The type to ruin you and corrupt you.

“I-I can't. I am not allowed to listen to that kind of music.” You looked down at the bible in your hands, you couldn't look Hobie in the eyes. You expected him to think you were weird for not being allowed to listen to what you wanted. But all you wanted was to avoid conflict.

Hobie's face went from confusion to smirk again. “Oh please. I can see that there's a little rebel hidden behind those pretty innocent eyes.” So he indeed could right through you.

You nervously played with your hair, wanting to both agree and refuse. And in a quick moment, your beautiful braid was untied. “Oh no.” You watched your hairband fall onto the grass. Hobie noticed it too. He moved and grabbed it, quickly cleaning it off from all the dirt. “Allow me.” He spoke so softly. You weren't sure if you should allow him to touch you in any way, but he just wanted to help you tie your hair, right? 

You decided not to overthink it, sitting with your back facing him, so he could tie your hair. You didn't expect it, but he was so gentle with your hair. No harsh hair pulling. His fingers parted your hand so nicely before he began to braid it. You almost melted.

And soon, you had your pretty braid again. Not as perfect as you could have done it, but it was still really nice. “Thank you so much, Hobie.” You said quietly before excusing yourself and saying you had to go. His eyes softened, he only nodded, asking if he could talk to you again. “I hate to say it, but I can't be seen with you.” 

Hobie sighed, his fingertip tapped at his lip ring, he seemed lost in thoughts. “And if we meet in secret?” He looked down at you, you were so short compared to him. “You can come over to my place, no one will know you were with me and I could show you some of my world.” He spoke so proudly when he mentioned introducing you to his world. And even though you technically shouldn't be meeting him, you were more than curious. So you agreed at last.

Obviously, someone saw you with Hobie. Your parents weren't proud of you for talking to him. You had no other choice than to lie, just like you did when it came to who you really felt about yourself. 

Yes, I like this dress. 

Yes, I like those shoes.

Yes, my hair is so pretty when it's so long.

Yes, I am a girl.

You had to lie, even though you wish you didn't have to. But you hoped that at the end of the day, when you were praying before going to sleep, God would forgive you for lying to everyone around you. He would understand, right?

So, as always, you lied, telling your parents that Hobie asked for some help because he was a newcomer and didn't know the town very well. Your parents weren't happy you talked to him, but knew, or at least believed, you were too good and polite to refuse to help him. They didn't think twice about it, allowing you to go to your room. They didn't mention Hobie braiding your hair, so you just assumed they didn't know about it, so you decided not to mention it either. It was better to keep your mouth shut.

You were careful when the day of visiting Hobie came. You told your parents that you went to study the bible at your friend's house. They didn't suspect a thing. You made sure no one could see you as you made your way to Hobie's apartment. And soon enough, you were in front of the door of his apartment.

You knocked lightly, heard the sound of locks being unlocked and then the door finally opened. You saw Hobie and he looked at you with that same softness like the last time. But this time he rubbed one eye with a cotton pad. You had a look of confusion on your face when you saw that.

“Come in, luv.” He moved so you could come inside, but instead of looking around, you watched him.

“Are you… wiping off your makeup?” The question sounded so stupid in your mind. Men weren't wearing makeup… right?

Hobie chuckled softly before going to the bathroom to wipe the makeup off more precisely in front of the mirror. You saw a few small eyeshadow palettes with bright eyeshadow in them, along with eyeliner and even two lipsticks. Even you didn't own that much makeup, you barely had any makeup since your parents didn't want you to paint your face like a whore.

“Yeah. I have been to a small party outside the town, so I wanted to look me best.” Hobie explained, before throwing a dirty pad into the bin. He then turned to you, it was obvious that you never saw a man wearing makeup before. You've never seen someone like him before. He allowed himself to check you out, you had a long skirt and a cute top that matched the skirt so well. “I am guessing you never wore the kind of makeup I usually go for?”

His hand grabbed one of the eyeshadow palettes and gave it to you, so you could see the inside better. You didn't think much and opened it. You hand one makeup palette and it was mostly light browns, one a little more glittery eyeshadow and two light pinks. But Hobie’s? It was so colorful. Red, blue, green and yellow. All of them so bright and pigmented.

He smiled when he saw your reaction, he felt excitement in his stomach. You looked stunned. “Why don't I finally show you that punk rock?” He left the bathroom and you followed him. His apartment was a little messy. Posters on every wall, some chokers and other jewelry scattered in some places and some clothes laying around. But his room was even better. It was so… him. You could see the room scream Hobie. Even more posters, a guitar. It might have been a little messy, but it had so much character.

Hobie moved to the old cd player and in the matter of seconds, the loud music played. Black Flag on full volume. At first you weren't sure what to think, but soon, you started loving it. You stopped caring about anything when the music played, banging your head to the rhythm. At first a little shyly, but then you were more confident about it, not caring if you were going to mess up your hair. You looked so happy, you felt so happy. It has been since you felt like that.

Even since Hobie came here, he finally saw your smile, the real and sincere smile on that face of yours. But he saw it falter when Can't Decide by the Black Flag started playing.

Sun's coming up and I can't decide

To spill my emotions or keep them inside

Go for a drive, go to the store

I'm looking for something that can't be bought there

I always wear a smile

Because anything but a smile would make me have to explain

And they wouldn't understand anyway

And they wouldn't understand anyway

I conceal my feelings so I won't have to explain

What I can't explain anyway

It hit so close to home, you almost started sobbing. Hobie saw it immediately and turned the music off. He sat next to you, one arm around you while he rubbed your arm with the other to comfort you. He barely knew you, but he was so concerned about your well being already. “What happened, dove?” He asked so quietly, almost as if he was scared he might make you start crying just by asking.

But you weren't ready to admit what has been going inside your head for months. And he could see that so well. A few tears went down your cheeks so you asked for a tissue. You smudged your makeup a bit, but luckily Hobie was able to fix it with the only brown palette he owned, the one had forgotten about since he never used it.

You gathered your things and apologized. “Don't apologize, luv. Just know you can come and talk about what's going on in that pretty head of yours.” You only nodded before leaving. 

Your parents weren't home by the time you came back, they were probably in the neighbor's house, talking and eating how they did once in a while. Probably praising you how good and obedient you were, and how they were happy to have a daughter like you.

And after that situation at Hobie's place, it became harder to pretend. It became hard not to cry when you were called a perfect daughter, pretty girl and beautiful woman. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to talk with someone about it. And the only person who would not judge you was Hobie. 

It has been a while since you talked to him. But you came back, trembling, looking like you were about to start crying at any given moment. Hobie didn't think twice, he just let you in, sat down on the floor while he seated you on his bed. His calloused hands found yours and he caressed them gently in order to comfort you.

And finally, after all this time, you opened up about what has been on your mind for all those months. You explained how you felt trapped in your own body, how you hated being seen as a girl and how much it hurt when you were called and seen as one. How much you just wanted to be yourself.

Hobie's eyes softened, his hand touched your delicate cheek as his thumb stroked it. You didn't flinch away from his touch, instead you leaned into his hand, enjoying the way he touched you. “Darlin’, I think you might be trans.”

“I might be what?” Your nose was already stuffed from all that crying, making your voice sound funny. Hobie sighed before his lips curled into the soften of smiled. 

“Trans, hun.” You still looked confused, but he wasn't going to blame you. You've been living in a place where you were too scared to be yourself, you couldn't name your feelings even though you have been feeling them for months. It was obvious these people weren't talking about things like that, at least not in the way that would make you want to explore those feelings.

“It's uh, it's when your body doesn't match how you feel on the inside. Like you, you have been born as a woman, but you don't feel like one, don't you?” You shook your head, of course you didn't feel like a woman. Thinking about yourself as a woman didn't feel right. 

Hobie got an idea. “Why don't you go to the bathroom and take all of that off? I'll bring ya some clothes and then you'll tell me how you feel.” He helped you with making your way to the bathroom and closed the door after you. You took off the dress, standing in nothing more than your underwear. It felt a bit less suffocating to not be wearing that stupid dress.

Soon, you heard Hobie knock on the door. “I have some stuff I think might look good on you.” You covered yourself with the towel that was near you, not wanting for Hobie to see your body. But he didn't even peek in, instead he held the clothes for you, letting you grab them before he quickly closed the door behind him.

You looked down at the clothes. Some distressed jeans with patches and studded belt, white shirt with some graffiti, which you assumed was decorated by Hobie himself and even some hand warmers to match the outfit.

You had put on the outfit and left the bathroom, only to see Hobie waiting for you. His eyes sparkled when he saw you. And he could see it in your face that you felt better. He looked so excited for you.

But you still had that long braid. “Let me…” Hobie murmured before you felt him touch your hair again. You weren't sure what he did exactly, but when you stepped in front of the mirror, your hair looked so short. It wasn't perfect, but you loved how your hair looked, way more than it looked in a braid, ponytail or any other hairstyle you were used to. You looked like a boy, and you were so happy.

At that very moment, you knew you couldn't go back to how your life was before. You couldn't go back to wearing dresses, praying to the God that probably never listened to you and did not care about you. You could no longer pretend that you were the perfect girl you were seen as until now.

Hobie's hands grabbed you by your shoulder. “Do you want me to call by a different name?” He asked, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as he rubbed your shoulders. You thought about it for a moment, before looking up at him and speaking up. “Do you think [Name] would suit me?”

Hobie chuckled and nodded. “Definitely, luv. Definitely.” He couldn't help himself and softly kissed your cheek. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but you enjoyed it.

“I want you to cut my hair. I want it short..” You said so suddenly, your voice was a little shaky, but you couldn't wait anymore. You have wanted to cut it for a while and you didn't want anyone else other than Hobie to do it. He was surprised by you. He didn't expect you to want to do it now.

“Are you su–” 

“Yes, I am sure.” You cut him off, you didn't want to be mean, but you couldn't wait any longer. “Please… I don't want to go back to what was before. I don't want to pretend to be someone who I am not.” You begged, you sounded so desperate. He couldn't say no to you when you sounded like that.

“Okay.” He said, giving your shoulders a squeeze before he took you to the bathroom. He brought a small stool and seated you on it. He grabbed a scissors, untied your hair, looking at it for the last time before he started cutting it. You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach swirling with anxiety, as you listened to the sound of the scissors cutting your hair.

Snip! Snip! Snip!

You felt your hair, your hair that you got so many compliments on, tickling your arms and neck before it fell down on the bathroom floor. “Done.” Hobie said, his voice was flat. It made you worry. Did you look bad? Did he mess up your hair? Was it a mistake?

He brushed the cut hair off of you, before you stood up and looked in the mirror. It was not perfect, but it still made you feel good. You started sobbing immediately. “Dove? Are you alright?” Hobie asked, worried and a little panicked.

“I've never felt better.” You sobbed out and he sighed, relieved that you liked it. He hugged you tightly, being so glad to see you happy with who you were.

But it couldn't go on forever. You came home pretty late, still wearing the clothes Hobie gave you earlier. And in the hoodie he gave so you wouldn't be cold while coming back home. You knew confrontation wouldn't be something you were able to avoid . And you knew it wouldn't be a light confrontation either.

Your parents were sitting in the living room. As soon as you closed the front door behind you, you heard your father call you by the name you no longer wished to be called by. You took a deep breath, pulling a hood over your head before you entered the living room. Your parents eyes were immediately on you, your mother gasped loudly.

“What the fuck is that!?” Your father yelled, he stood up and grabbed you by the hood and yanked it off your head. He intended to grab you by your hair, but there was nothing to grab. Your lovely long hair was long gone and there was nothing they could do about it. In a way, that made you proud.

“What have you done to yourself!?” Your mother shouted with tears in her eyes. You've never seen her crying and you didn't expect her to get so emotional. She always seemed so cold. “Where's your hair? Your dress?” She's never been so panicked. “What will we say to the others once they see that your hair is gone? What will they think of us? What will they think of you?”

There was this need to apologize, turn the time back and never let yourself explore who you really were. But you weren't going to let this need win. You have been obedient for way too long. You were pretending for way too long and now? You were tired of it.

“I don't fucking care what are they going to think of me!” You shouted back. Both of your parents were startled by the fact that you just cursed. They never heard you curse, nor did they hear you sound so confident. “I have been pretending to be someone who I wasn't me for way too long. I am not going to let you decide about how I am anymore!” 

Slap!

Your father slapped you so hard you fell to the floor. Your cheek was all red already. You and your mother were both shocked. Your father was about to take his belt off and start beating you, but your mother stopped him. “I am sure there's something we can do instead of beating her up. People will notice and they might think we were the one to cut her hair off. We can buy a wig until her hair grows back.”

“I am not growing it back and I am not putting the dresses back on.” You hissed. Maybe you shouldn't have done that, but you ripped off the virgin Mary necklace off your neck and threw it.

Your parents were more than shocked at your action. “She must have been corrupted by that punk!” Your mother cried out. “What are we going to–” Your father lost his temper. Instead of beating you up like he initially planned, he grabbed you and threw you out the door. “I no longer have a daughter!” It was the last thing you heard before he closed the door.

Soon, your father started throwing your things out the window. All those gorgeous dresses and skirts flying out the window. Before you were terrified to even slightly rip them and now? You didn't care that they got dirty, they stopped mattering to you. You only waited for your father to throw your phone. You wanted to catch it, but it fell onto the concrete, the phone screen broke, but luckily for you, you still were able to use it. You grabbed some more important things that your father had thrown and then made your way to Hobie's apartment.

He was concerned, but both of you knew it was better that way. If you stayed, nothing would change and everything would go worse. More praying, more femininity, more pretending. But you weren't going to stay with your parents, luckily Hobie said you could stay with him.

You were laying with Hobie in his bed. You were so lost in your thoughts and he could see it clearly. Hobie laid on his side to face you, the tips of his fingers brushed against your jaw to get your attention. You turned to look at him. “You okay?” You put your hands on your face and sighed.

“I'm fine. It’s just… I've wanted to be myself for a while and I…” You paused for a moment, not looking into Hobie's eyes. In a way, it all felt unreal. Usually, you would now be in your bed, reading the bible or praying. And now, you were laying with a man you didn't know very well, but he gave you everything you could have asked for. Acceptance, help and hope. 

Your eyes finally met his again. “I didn't expect that it would actually happen. I thought I was going to be everyone's perfect girl until I die, but you came into my life and changed everything. Thank you so much for that.” You smiled at him, you were so grateful he came into your life. He smiled back at you and leaned to kiss your cheek.

“You're very welcome, luv.” 

You both left the town as quickly as you could since that happened. Now, it has been 6 years since the day you met him. Everything has been truly perfect since then. Your transition was going well and you recently had your top surgery.

And Hobie? He was with you the whole time. During the first appointment at the doctor, he helped you take your first testosterone shot and he held your hand both before and after the surgery.

Life couldn't be more perfect and you never felt more perfect.

taglist: @sk3llly

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

Recreyo has become my hyperfixation (again) and I can’t stop thinking about the SCP eps. So enjoy some writing!

Edit: FUCKING DAMMIT I SCREWED UP HIS NAME

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

——————

Curt started asking questions after the second test.

Truth to be told, he’d been having odd feelings about the whole thing from the beginning, but he’d kinda brushed them off. Chilly not being in the cell with the others was something he couldn’t brush off though. The others told him one of the scientists, accompanied by a bunch of guards, had asked her to come with them. Christian had a bad feeling and tried telling them to fuck off, but they reassured them nothing would happen to her.

The biggest reason it was so odd though, is that he hadn’t been informed about any of this.

He had been in charge of the chaotic group for two tests and he had known them for much longer. That they had chosen not to tell him was… kind of weird.

Which is why he flagged down an A-Class personnel.

“Oi, I just heard Chilly was moved elsewhere. What happened?”

The man in front of him raised an eyebrow. Curt sighed.

“Chilly Panda, girl with the panda hat, pretty dumb and loud, you know, the girl I’ve been in charge of?”

“Oh, miss Panda. I had assumed you’d been informed.”

“Well clearly I haven’t. Where is she?”

For a moment, the man was silent. Finally, he clasped his hands behind his back. On the name tag, Curt could read: ‘Jonathan Snee’.

“New evidence has brought to light that miss Panda couldn’t possibly be responsible for the c-18 incident. As such, she was found innocent by the court, and as we only employ death row inmates as D-Class personnel - and we do have morals, unlike what some people might say - we gave her the choice to either continue working for us as C-Class Personnel or leave the Foundation entirely. Evidently, she choose the latter.”

Those words felt like a slap across the face. Or a punch to the gut.

“She… left us?”

Sure, Chilly could be an asshole sometimes, just like all of them, and at first glance abandoning them to save her own skin would be in line with her.

Except.

“She didn’t even come to say goodbye…”

Chilly would have informed them. Maybe come back to the cell, mocking them. At the very least send them a letter or call. To just disappear on them felt… wrong.

“I’m sorry Richy, but that is what she choose.”

Curt ran a hand through his hair, underneath his cap, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

“N-no, she wouldn’t. She’s a jerk but she wouldn’t…”

Snee interrupted him harshly. “Then I guess you didn’t know her as well as you thought.”

That stung, although stung was an understatement. It felt like getting stabbed by Den.

“Now then, are there any more questions you have for me?” Snee asked.

With a deep breath, Curt tried his best to swallow the feelings of betrayal down and looked at Snee.

“Yes, sir. I was wondering… why are my only assignments related to my fr- squad D-45?”

Snee cocked his head slightly. “You have no other tasks?”

“I-I do, but they’re all… paperwork that literally could be done by any C-Class Personnel. I’m B-Class, shouldn’t I be having more responsibilities? Why don’t I get to lead more squads or tests, why—“

He cut himself off upon seeing the dark look in Snee’s eyes. It was accompanied by a threatening, powerful aura, that pressed down on him like a large rock.

“Mr Richy.” Snee began, tone coated with warning. “You should do best to remember that a B-Class Personnel is to take orders from A-Class Personnel without question. A-Class is not obligated to disclose all information, and you should trust that it isn’t without a good reason. Some things are better left unknown, especially in this facility, where even knowledge can be dangerous to your health. Please trust that we know what we are doing and are doing it to protect both humans and SCPs.”

He took a step forward, and Curt had to use every nerve in his body to avoid stepping backwards. Thankfully, Snee’s glare became less harsh.

“You are a valued member of B-Class personnel, Richy. And I’d like to keep it that way. Now, are there any questions left you want to ask?”

The unspoken was clear.

“N-no Sir.”

“Good.” Snee nodded, then took a folder from his jacket, handing it to him. “I have a new assignment from you. Be careful, this assignment involves SCP-173. Be sure to evacuate to your designated area in case of containment breach.”

Curt took the file, flipping through it, noting that it involved his friends again.

“Yes sir.”

Snee almost turned around there and then, but stopped himself.

“Oh, one more thing. I have taken the liberty to replace one of your squad members. Her name is Kristine. Be sure to treat her like you treat the other D-Class in your squad.”

Frowning, Curt flipped a little further to see a photo of a girl with flowers in her hair.

“What’s she in for?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“An incident we believe is related to the C-18 case.”

The tone in Snee’s voice indicated he wasn’t going to reveal much more on the subject, so Curt merely nodded and closed the folder, putting it under his arm. “I will gather a few guards and D-45 and head to the assignment immediately, sir.”

Snee gave a nod. “Excellent. You are doing very well, Richy. I hope the rest of A-Class notices your efforts too and give you a raise.” He complimented, but for whatever reason, it felt empty.

“Thank you, sir.” Curt managed to get out.

Snee turned around and walked away, leaving Curt with his thought. He took a deep breath and headed the other way. Dawdling wouldn’t help him right now. He would deal with this later.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Heyy wishing you all the best in these tough times! Lets talk about our favorite group of delinquents! Which of the guys believe in paying for the entire date, and which of the guys believe in paying 50/50? Are any of them religious? Which of the guys are good at adulting (i.e. paying taxes/bills, etc.)? How about homra adopting a stray cat? I answered most of your asks and got 4 more left in my inbox, do you have any hc/thoughts about my AU?

Hey! Thank you so, so much for saying that and for the welcome and lovely distraction! And for answering all of those so quickly – I’m very impressed as I figured I wouldn’t be getting answers for a while, since I asked so many questions. I haven’t read all of your AU posts but now that I know that many are answered, it’s definitely going to be my before bedtime reading tonight, while I wish for sleep to actually set in haha. Plus, that way I can reblog and comment on them either tomorrow morning or after work tomorrow. Probably after work tomorrow, that way I can reread them again and get a boost of happy after dealing with a new coworker who is…troubling, to say the least. As far as your AU’s though, you know I think they’re godly. Can I just say though, in weird thoughts I’ve been having, your warehouse AU would make a great romantic comedy/gag comedy anime and I would totally watch that anime spin-off or read full on fics about that (the gag comedy is definitely HOMRA and S4 dealing with each other and the HR department). For your band AU, I go in between wishing it was a full out anime so I could hear all the lovely music (I don’t know many Japanese girl groups, so I’m not sure what they sound like, but I know quite a few Korean ones and wonder if they would sound anything like those kind of vibes and if so, which band sounds the most like the girl’s group) and thinking that it would make such a fantastic otome/stat grinding/rhythm game combination…and those are my weird thoughts on it. I’ll share more individualized thoughts on each post as I reblog, because they’re too good to just reblog and not leave comments on! Now onto the thoughts on our boys!

Which of the guys believe in paying for the entire date and which of the guys believe in paying 50/50?

I definitely think Kusanagi and Dewa would be the ones who steadfastly insist on paying for the whole date. Both men like to believe they’re ‘gentlemen’ and they would consider it against their pride as men to go dutch. Chitose pays, but he only pays because he’s definitely one of those dicks who would pull the ‘you owe me sex because I bought you dinner’ shtick. Eric would prefer to go dutch, just because he’s not exactly flush for cash, but if the person he’s on the date with definitely seems like they expect him to pay for everything (even though they’ve definitely ordered some expensive stuff), he’s going to do it to hopefully make them happy and make them like him more. He’s kind of easily taken advantage of in the dating scene, honestly. Bandou would pay entirely for the first couple of dates but would insist on either being treated occasionally in return or on going dutch after those couple of dates, while Shouhei and Fuji normally go dutch on dates, just so there’s no expectations and nobody feels like they might have been used for a free meal.

Are any of them religious?

I actually do headcanon Fuji as being quietly religious, having been raised in the Shinto faith. Chitose was raised Christan but defected from the faith. He still honestly believes in something, but he’s not sure he’d call it God and he’s no longer sure the Christian ‘God’ exists at all. Bandou was raised religious, but kind of goes in between observing and just completely ignoring religion, but I feel it’s something he gets back into more in his older age. Dewa, Eric, and Shouhei are all non-religious.

Which of the guys are good at adulting (i.e. paying taxes/bills, etc.)?

Surprisingly, Fuji is really good at adulting. He doesn’t have a lot of bills to pay, since he lives with his parents, but he does pitch in money every month from his work. He’s actually got a really healthy savings account, though he splurges on animal stuff for all the strays he picks up, drinks with the boys, and smokes. Dewa, of course, is the best at adulting. His main weakness, financially, is that he caves pretty easily when the other boys rely on him super heavily to bail them out of tight spots. He’s just really talented with numbers and budgets, so even doing so, he scrapes by every month with everything paid. Chitose is absolute crap as an adult and is normally the one that Dewa is bailing out. Eric really hasn’t had to be financially literate and he’s a terrible adult but god damn, he is trying, and he gets better at it bit by bit. Shouhei and Bandou are both about equally tied – some months all the bills are paid, other months there’s one or two that just don’t get paid because they used all the money up for fast food, drinking, and having fun. Oh well, is both of their attitudes, they’ll catch up next month. Both of them have been sent to collections at least once.

How about HOMRA adopting a stray cat?

Okay, but I actually have this exact topic added to the queue, hahahaha! Great minds and all, I guess, so I guess you’ll have to wait until this one comes out sometime in the next 40 days to read the full post.

[remade-c18r0]

arthur is a trans girl [updated]

the first part, groundwork:

the established world of vollmond is split between humans and wizards. literally, in more extensive analysis, this is clearly a divide between goyim(mostly christians) and jews, but in this specific case it is used to evoke something else.

the king granvelle and the queen are two humans, and arthur is born a wizard. rumors abound about the queen cheating on the king to birth a wizard (a nonhuman), and arthur is abandoned in the northern wilderness to die. later, in arthurs location story, the queen is seen deliriously loving and protecting a small bird (in place of arthur) as her 'human' son.

i tend to write/visualize arthur and the overall setting as though transphobia does not literally exist - i prefer the use of allegory, personally, along with other hints that transphobia just doesnt exist in vollmond (see this very good post about deltarune that i think about often) - but in this case it is quite literally that the queen wanted a human son, in which case 'human' and 'son' mean the same thing.

this is strengthened by arthur feeling like she gets to be her "real self" with oz/oji3 in the north, where she gets to be a wizard and use magic and act without restraint around people who love and accept her as the little girl arthur, and not as the failed nonhuman prince of central. and then of course when this is all stripped away with her AT THE ONSET OF PUBERTY, LITERALLY the day of her 13th birthday, she is stolen from this sanctuary and taken back to central to stand straight and tall as prince and boy for a mother that will not even look at her (where being a wizard is an 'open secret' - that shes a freak and different.)

she does not like being a prince, except for the opportunities to help others. look at this 4koma. she does not feel like she belongs. she pushes herself to be like her father because shes the 'prince' - but also, lets face it, her mother isnt the best role model (but arthur still wants her love and acceptance [whole event]). she goes out of her way to not be angry [ch4] because shes a wizard and people will be scared of her, and perhaps also attribute that anger to other wizards.

this does not even mention the amount of times she disguises herself as her western 'artie' persona, or transforms into anyone else at all, excited and overwilling to be anyone but the central prince. (1, 2 [though she feels awkward and denigrates herself for not being able to 'roleplay' well], 3, 4, 5: [Arthur Bday 2023 Q&A TLed by oshaberiduo on twt], 6, etc)

she wants to be herself without expectations. she wants to be loved for who she is and as she is.

of course, canonically its good on some level that she was taken from oz, as she cannot tie her happiness to him the way she does and continue to have a healthy relationship. shes dependent on him labeling their relationship (one everyone knows to be family), shes terrified of him not loving her (because theyre the one who saved her when she was abandoned), shes willing to die if this lets her continue to be loved/repay her 'debt' (because she thinks oz is still """mad""" at her for """"leaving"""")

i bring this up because i do think arthur will remain in her role in central, but not as prince. she will be the wizard princess of central, putting together both families she loves and getting to live as her true self with no pretense. she will be the master of both worlds and live a much healthier life because of this.

the second part, sources

every mahoyaku character has a main source that is reflected in their names and the stories of them and the people surrounding them. figaro is from the barber of seville. oz is from the wizard of oz. arthur is king arthur. etc etc.

king arthurs story has a lot going on in it, as mythology often does, but the gist is uther pendragon (the former king) seduces his enemy's wife with the help of merlin, who in return for his services only requests that he be able to raise arthur for a while. arthur only finds out hes the king through a lot of contrived circumstances; i wont bore you. read arthuriana yourself - its insane. the point is that arthur is the chosen king from a so called 'disreputable union' raised by a magician.

but they also have secondary sources; sources they were not named after but heavily influenced their stories and personalities. figaros is the little mermaid (see everything about her but especially june bride 2021 cardsto). chloes is cinderella (LOOK AT HIM). shinos is robin hood (sherwood. everything else). etc etc. and arthur? Arthur is Ozma of Oz.

in a nutshell, the story of ozma goes like such: the baby heiress of the city of oz, ozma, is stolen by Ozpinhead (the titular Wizard of Oz) and given to the northern witch Mombi. to hide ozma, mombi disguises her as the boy Tip, who has no idea of any of this. mombi raises tip and treats him badly while doing it but here tip is exposed to magic, and from here, when hes older, he goes on an adventure (mostly to get away from mombi). on the journey he gains a lot of friends who love him and his boyish swag and quick thinking. tl;dr because the book this is from is actually bad- the truth comes out that tip is actually ozma - actually a Girl, and a Princess, and the True Ruler of Oz - and tip is frightened by this. he doesnt want to change, because he doesnt want the people he loves to stop loving him. she only accepts the change when her friends reassure her they will love her no matter what. and though she is young, she is the wisest, loveliest, most just, schmoopiest queen oz has ever had.

...................................................like honestly do i even have to spell it out ............

just look at my pretty princess. thank you

[an-act-of-hubris]

THE GOODSIR CHRONICLES

FOR MOD EREBUS: Celebrating the birthday of our beloved Harry DS Goodsir 11-3-1819.

The Goodsir Chronicles: A Universe In Which Jane, Harry and Robert Encounter the Mythological and Supernatural

From Mod Terror:  Story 2 Part 1: “The Selich Girl and the Pearls of the Maighdean Mhara Queen”

My dear sister Jane loved fairy stories, legends and ghost tales.  She had a wonderful sense of the otherworldly which she loved to share with Robert and I from the time we were wee.  Of course, she was told repeatedly by my father to refrain from doing so.  Being raised in a household of science and Christian faith, we all held both ideals very dear.  But Jane had a bit of an obstinate streak to match her sense of the fantastical and she would still secretly tell us these yarns any time we were out of earshot of the others.  Her accounts excited something within the three of us which must have opened our minds and hearts to the possibility that these fabled beings could exist in our current natural world.  That’s the only way I can explain the transcendental experiences we three encountered throughout our lives.

November was always one of my favorite times of year, not just because my birthday fell early in this month and I couldn’t wait to see what wonderful gifts my family would surprise me with but also because November is when the Grey Seal pups were born and could be seen on the rocks around the Firth of Forth where I lived.  Unlike the Harbour Seals who’s pups are born in the summer months and can swim from the time they are born, the fluffy white Grey Seal pups were stuck on land for at least a month.  Normally every year in November, my older brothers would take me out to find the pups and John would teach me how to identify the different seal species and I would practice drawing them and we would have such a lovely time.

It was just after my eleventh birthday.  Both my older brothers were preoccupied with their studies and were frustrated with my impatient pestering to go to the firth with me.  John apologized and passed me a very well worn copy of “Invertebrate Fauna of the Firth of Forth” and told me to go out and search the tide pools and identify and draw anything interesting. So, with a new sketch book and Cumberland graphite pencil my mother had gifted me, I set out with my younger brother Robert and sister Jane to walk the coastal trail between our home town of Anstruther and the neighboring town of Crail. My hope was to find and sketch the seal pups along with the creatures of the tide pools but I would never have imagined that I would find much more than that.

It was a lovely fall day with a mild breeze and lots of golden sunlight twinkling off the gentle waves.  Ahead of me, Jane was merrily telling an enraptured Rob a story about a sailor and a maid of the sea while I sauntered along with my hands in my pockets, keeping a wary eye out for my desired marine mammals.  We saw peregrines hunting along the shore line as well as some harbour porpoises playing in the firth.  In the tide pools, we spied sea anemones, sponges and a bright red sea slug.  A delightful hermit crab skittered about the rocks and ended up in Robert’s pail to be brought home later and added to the menagerie we kept in our rooms.

We were nearing The Coves when we heard a ruckus of high pitched yelps and barks.  There on the rocks was a seal unlike any I had ever seen before which was helplessly caught up in a large fishing net.  Every twist and turn the flippered mammal attempted to make to free itself only ensnared it further.  

“Oh Harry, we have to help the poor creature,” pleaded my sister knowing full well I would never leave another living being to its fate if it could be helped.

“Everyone be calm and move slowly,” I replied. My sister began to hum a lullaby  soothingly as I searched around for a stick with which to keep the seal at bay if it should decide to be aggressive towards us.  “Bob, you stand back and give warning if it looks like the beast will lunge for us,” I instructed. I handed him my drawing implements and John’s book and he stood a keen eyed sentinel.

The seal, fearful of us and tired of its struggle, stopped thrashing for the moment to eye us warily.

“It’s alright,” I said softly, “were not going to hurt you, we want to help.”  I locked eyes with the creature and was surprised at the shockingly ice blue irises.  The seal lay very still almost daring not to breathe but watched me carefully.  With a small knife from my pocket, I started to cut away at the net.  I found that one of the flippers was caught painfully in part of the netting but I made quick work of it and in a short time the seal was free.  

“There now, you’ve been saved,” laughed Jane, “ Harry is your hero!” She gave me a winning smile full of admiration.

The seal looked from Jane to me and continued to lay there as if it was unable to decide what to do.  It was then that I noticed the beautiful silver-white coat with a mottling of black about the ventral side and over the bridge of the nose. I motioned for Robert to bring me my sketch book and hurriedly set about drawing the facial features and spot pattern before it decided to head for the sea.  This was definitely no Halichoerus grypus nor was it a Phocina vitulina.  I almost trembled with excitement at showing John my important new discovery.

After a short time, the seal let out a bark of thanks, then turned and ambled its way back over the rocks to dive into the waves.  It disappeared for a while but then I spied its small head bobbing up and down in the frigid waters as it gave me a last scrutinizing look.  I waved and it took its leave.  And that was that for my valiant moment with the seal, or so I thought.  

We continued on to the Caiplie Caves, or The Coves as we locals called them.  It was a great place to play at pirates and mermaids which we did quite happily for some time.  Robert pretended to be the ruthless pirate captain while Jane was a captured maid of the sea and I was all the characters Bob wanted to command including the luckless sailor who had to walk the plank and the feckless first mate who obediently had to dig a hundred holes with his stick to find the hidden treasure.

I was standing atop the hill behind the caves pretending to be on look-out for the dreaded British Navy and getting ready to switch roles and become the fearless Captain Marryat who would vanquish the privateers and save the mermaid when I spotted a pale figure coming towards us.  It appeared to be a girl around Jane’s age with long silver-white hair.  She seemed to be limping and except for something she held to her chest, she was in a complete state of undress, much to my astonishment.  I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I modestly looked away, then clambered down the hill to alert my siblings.

We decided to send Jane out to meet the unclothed stranger and after a time Jane returned to the cave with the girl wearing Jane’s over-coat and tenaciously clutching what looked like a pelt to her bodice.  Her eyes were the lightest blue I had ever seen.

“Harry, Robert this is Moira,” Jane began, “she is a selich.  In fact it was she you rescued from the net earlier today.” Jane’s eyes sparkled brilliantly as she told us this news. 

My eyes wandered from the pelt to the girl’s left wrist and I saw a rope burn where the net had entrapped her flipper.  Once, Jane had told us a story about a selich which had been tricked out of her fur and made to marry a fisherman but who escaped back to the sea when she found her coat.  My hand went instinctively to my pocket to rub the lammer bead I kept there which had been given me by the Ghillie Dhu in the forest some years ago as protection against the fae.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you,” said Moira in a small, quiet voice. “You rescued me once today and I can see through your eyes to your soul that you are good.  I’m in terrible danger and I need your help.” Moira gave me that same icy gaze from earlier and I shivered.

“What kind of trouble,” I whispered, “how can we help?”

“I’ve stolen a magical talisman from the Queen of the Maighdean Mhara to save my people and she will stop at nothing to get it back.” Moira drew one of her closed fists out from her pelt and when she opened her pale hand we could see a delicate string of glowing pink-white pearls.

I looked at my siblings...Robert had a look of wide-eyed surprise but Jane had a look of pure bliss...in one afternoon she had learned that both selkies and mermaids were real!

To be continued..............

[fortressofserenity]

She's leaving you

When it comes to how and why more and more women are leaving the Church, I feel it boils down to how and why Christianity (and especially Evangelicalism) cultivates a particular brand of sexism/misogyny that alienates them a lot. From the unattainable perfect homemaking woman ideal (which is no different from the hot, skinny girl ideal) to not being able to preach in church and finally, the lack of any female role model they could've looked up to.

Now when it comes to the homemaking woman ideal, it's something not a lot of women and girls either aspire to be or live up to perfectly. It's like you work in healthcare and it's not always going to be easy finding a middle ground between a perfect stay at home mother and having to attend to sick patients every now and then, that such an ideal is going to be unattainable to begin with. Same with working in a factory, as if the ideal only applies to certain women really.

As what somebody else said about the tradwife trend, stay at home mothers may not always the time to dress fashionably, especially if they're made to raise children on their own that there's no way they can easily attend to the latest fashion trends. I think even if two parents are still around, the wife can't always shoulder everything on her own so she needs her husband's help. That's what the Bible's been saying that husbands need to be kind to their wives, actually helping around a lot more than they do.

But it's the part of the passage that a number of Christians ignore altogether, especially in the fight against feminism that it's easier to subvert feminism's goals than to provide real gender equity at home. Then comes the lack of any strong female role models for women to look up to, whether if they're preachers and writers (I know two and I frequent their websites a lot) or any other famous Christian woman they could aspire to be.

This is something both Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy has provided, despite their faults. In those churches, women can be church mothers and church sisters. They needn't to be married, when they could lead a life of celibacy but this is optional. Not only that, but there's a plethora of female saints they can always look up to. It could be Saint Julian of Norwich, St Hildegard and St Therese of Lisieux, they needn't to be stay at home mothers when they could also be Margery Kempe or someone else.

There's something about the Christian subculture that usually precludes the inclusion of alternative female role models, especially if they're not the quiet churchgoing stay at home mother types. I suspect the whole women being quiet in church would apply more if they were gossiping, instead of having to preach something to people. There are female preachers, I follow one and one of them is named Brenda Walsh. There are women who write devotionals, there are women who transcribe their husbands' sermons.

There are women who write Christian texts, such as St Hildegard and St Julian of Norwich, but the go-for female role model that many Evangelicals prefer is the stay at home mother/wife. Since not everybody can be this character, it's not something they aspire to, relate to (especially if they either work in healthcare or at factories) and so on. The lack of any other female role model is crippling the church's ability to retain female followers, which would be the real reason why women leave the church.

[annwrites]

preacher's daughter. part two.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you join your friends at a nearby lake while they enjoy swimming for the afternoon. billy eventually graces you with his presence & goes too far when trying to be playful with you.

— tw: religion, mentions of death by drowning, an experience of near-drowning

— word count: 1,892

You sit silently atop a soft blanket beneath a large oak tree, leaned back against it, legs crossed before you with the skirt of your dress draped over them as you flip another page of your Bible, reading.

You hear a car-door shut, but don't look up, too engrossed in the book of Psalms—one of your favorites—to be bothered to see who's just arrived.

Until a familiar pair of boots enter your vision and your brow twitches undetectably, now knowing who's here.

"That the only book you know how to read, honey?"

You stare up at him, fighting down the feeling of annoyance which fills you at his presence. It's not a kind sentiment to hold toward someone—anyone. You're sure there must be a reason for the way he acts. Even if it's just immaturity.

Maybe he'll grow out of it one day.

You nearly snort in derision at the thought.

"Hello, Billy. How're you?" You ask softly.

He raises a brow at your faux-sweetness, unbuttoning his shirt. "Oh, I'm fuckin' great, sweetheart."

He cocks his head to the side as he pulls his shirt off, tossing it upon the lush grass beside you. "Thanks for asking."

He's sure curse-words greeting your virginal ears isn't an often-occurrence, but that's exactly why he does it; hoping to get under that perfect, soft skin.

It's a strange dichotomy: to be both irritated by your virginal Christian good-girl persona, while also being undeniably turned-on by it. How many times has he had his cock fisted in his hand while imagining having you bent over the pulpit as you pray to God for him to give you more?

More times than he can count, he's sure.

Hell, after not seeing you for months, he'd had to lock himself in his room once he got home after church service just to get a load off while imaging what's beneath that cotton dress—between your supple thighs.

He begins to unbuckle his belt, smirking as he watches your eyes trail lower, while simultaneously widening at the sight of him. "You?"

"What—What're you doing?" You ask, tone panicked.

"Expect me to swim with my clothes on? Can't all be perfect lil' prudes, babydoll."

You flush, flipping your Bible back open again, desperate to focus on anything else but the half-undressed boy standing in front of you.

He chuckles as he watches your eyes scanning over verses—probably trying to find something about the proper penance for lust. He'd have no problem watching you commit to a bit of self-flagellation. Preferably with his hand on your backside, however.

He toes off his boots, then pushes his jeans down, revealing a red pair of swim shorts on underneath as he tosses his pants beside you as well.

He bites back a laugh at the sight of your eyes growing impossibly wider.

And then he notices you uncrossing your legs and instead opting to press your thighs together instead.

That mean he's gotten a reaction out of that pretty little body? God, how he'd love to find out with his hand slipped in your panties beneath the warm water—your legs wrapped around him as you find a more secluded spot together.

He kneels down then, his callused hand sliding up your naked calf. "You not comin' in, baby?"

Your eyes flit up to his as you pull your legs to you. "N-no."

He reaches for a loose curl then, twining it around his finger. "How come?"

You stare at him, searching for an excuse that's anything other than the truth. The one you and your parents—namely daddy—stopped talking about so long ago.

You suppose the story of it got buried along with him...

"I don't have a suit," you supply, deeming it well enough.

His eyes trail along your body, fingers now sliding down your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "Got a bra and panties, don't you?"

You pull your arm away. "You don't always have to be so...vulgar. It makes me uncomfortable. It's not proper."

He squints his eyes at you sarcastically. "Think that's kind of the point, sugar."

You sigh. "I see you've not much changed, then."

He snorts. "You think me coming back to church meant, what? That I'd found God?"

He stands. "That's likely."

You brows furrow. "Do...do you not believe in Him?"

Your tone is that of disbelief.

He shrugs. "Never done anything for me. Praying never did me any good, either. My life changed when I finally took shit into my own hands."

You wonder what that's supposed to mean.

"Why come back to church, then?" You ask with genuine curiosity, refusing to believe that he's that: an atheist. He's just implying it to rile you, surely.

"Didn't say I did it for me."

You tuck a loose curl behind your ear, softly smiling at least at that: his willingness to do things for others. "You do it for Max and Susan?"

He glances down to your bare legs again, then back into your eyes. "Sure, doll, let's go with that theory."

"Hey, Billy, you comin' in, man?" Timmy calls from the water, Kathy playfully splashing him from the side.

"Just a sec," Billy calls back in reply.

Billy licks his lips then. "Be having a lot more fun if you got a little wet, angel."

You ignore the obvious double-entendre of his comment, hating that you even understand what he means by it in the first place.

Sinner, you think, with self-loathing.

"I'm okay," you say, looking up to him smiling. "You guys have fun, though. Let me know if you need anything."

He raises a brow. "Don't tell me that unless you plan to follow through by giving it to me, babydoll."

He walks away then, leaving you sitting there with your face heating in embarrassment.

Billy treads water while Timmy and Kat play around with one another, occasionally making out and splashing the other, touching each other suggestively beneath the rippling current.

He then looks to you, wishing you'd just get in the damned lake. At least he'd have someone of his own to mess around with then. At that, he knows you'd be far too polite to tell him to just simply 'fuck off' if he started getting overly handsy, allowing him to get at least a bit of a taste.

He wonders how far he'd be able to push you before you finally pitched a bitch-fit and lost your temper.

He tries to imagine just what that might look like. His cock gets hard at the thought of agreeable, soft-spoken you all red-faced and dripping with rage; him the object of your ire.

He finally decides you've had enough Bible studying for the day when he gets out, heading toward you.

When you look up to him, you're not sure that you like the smirk on his face, the mischievous look in his eyes. "What're you—"

He kneels down then, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you to him. "Think it's time for you to cool off a little, sweetheart."

He then stands, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads back toward the water.

Words, initially, get stuck in your throat as your mind and body both freeze in utter terror.

No.

No.

Not this.

Please.

It's when you feel his palm sliding up the back of your thigh that you finally come back to yourself. "Billy, no, please! Please put me down, I'm begging you, please!"

He only chuckles. "Not getting out of it that easily, honey. I finally want to see what you look like all wet and dripping."

Tears sting your eyes as you see water pooling around his feet. "Billy, I can't—"

You feel like you might be sick. "I can't sw—"

Just then, he tosses you into the deep end and you try flailing and kicking your arms to no avail as you sink below the surface.

It's only a moment of silence before Kathy completely loses it. "What did you do?! What've you done?!"

He rolls his eyes. "Relax, I just—"

"She can't fucking swim! You fucking idiot!"

His body goes cold all over. You can't... Oh fuck no.

He dives in immediately, quickly spotting you slipping further toward the bottom as you scream, bubbles floating upward, your limbs kicking and swatting this way and that, desperate to take you back above; back to air.

He wraps an arm around your waist when he reaches you, dodging your own, which are flailing in a panic. He can't let you take him down with you, or you'll both drown.

He takes you from behind, dragging you up as he kicks his feet, until he finally breaks the surface. He gasps for breath while you gag and scream and wail and cry in terror.

"Kat!" You cough up water. "Help! He—Help me!"

She swims quickly toward you, taking you in her arms as she leads you inland, and you double over onto the damp sand, retching, your body trembling violently.

"Wait here, I'll go grab a towel!"

Billy quickly gets out, kneeling down beside you, brushing hair out of your face. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know. I—"

Kathy pushes him away from you then, causing him to land on his ass as she wraps you in a thick, fluffy towel, while you wrap your arms around her, crying into her neck while she cups the back of your head for comfort.

Billy curses, standing, running his fingers nervously through his wet locks. He feels horrible, yes, but also like a goddamn idiot. He'd made a fool of himself. Had...had frightened you within an inch of your life.

Months he'd had being apart from you, and this is one of the first things he does to you when he comes back?

"Like I fuckin' knew that she's eighteen and has no idea how to swim!"

It's just like him to make the horrible shit he does to someone their own fault. But he doesn't know what else to do.

Kathy glares at him with such vehemence that he clamps his mouth shut immediately. "Her brother drowned when he was six and she was four, you fucking dumbass!"

His eyes flit to you then, his face falling. He'd never known...

"I—" He starts, but you interrupt him by speaking quietly to Kat between quiet sobs.

"Home. I want to go home. P-please."

He takes a step toward you, wanting—needing—to right this wrong. "I can take her—"

Kathy wraps a protective arm around you, glaring at him. "Stay away from her."

He swallows thickly. He just needs to apologize. To touch you at least, to show you how sorry he truly is.

But he knows Kat won't let him within five feet of you now.

She nods, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. "I'll take you home. C'mon, sweetie."

He watches the two of you go, without saying another word.

It's only once you've pulled away, Timmy emerging from the water as well, telling him 'don't sweat it, she's okay, just had a scare is all', that he spots his excuse to talk to you again—either later that evening, or, perhaps, tomorrow, as he's sure seeing him yet again in the same day as your near-death experience might be an ignorant decision—still sitting beneath the tree you'd occupied a spot beneath before he ruined everything.

Just like always...

[crypticcadette]

𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝖂𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓

Larry Johnson/ reader fanfic

Warnings: mentions of Christianity, Religious Trauma, Cults and Smut (later on lol)

So MDNI and ace friends, it’s probably best to read something else<3

The story centers around (Y/N), Born and raised in Phelps ministry, never being allowed to see what the world has to offer to her. That is, until her father allows her to attend public school, where she meets some new friends. Who introduce her to a very interesting man.

I also will have this posted to AO3 under the same username and title <3 happy reading.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 յ: 𝕿𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖈𝖍

“Our father, who art in heaven...”

My knees hit the green carpet.

“Hallowed be thy name... Thy kingdom come, that will be done,” I recite as my hands clasp my father's rosary.

“On earth,” Another, deeper voice joins next to me.

“As it is in heaven” My brother's blonde hair shines in my peripheral vision as we recite the prayer, I've known all my life.

“Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us of our trespasses,” I look at him as he does to me.

“As we forgive those who trespass against us.” We both feel eyes burrow into the back of our heads. Knowing it is our father watching us from behind. He looks away as if to continue with the prayer.

“Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever amen.” We finish, making sure not to speak too fast, knowing how it upsets our father.

I look back to my father, staring down at me with a cold and unreadable stare. His eyebrows furrow slightly, expecting something.

“Aren't you forgetting something little girl?”

I grimace internally, hating it when he refers to me as “little girl” rather than my name. Even though I’m turning nineteen soon.

“Um...I...-” He cuts me off.

“Your’ Hail Mary's.” He states firmly as he walks to the side of the dark church, stopping at a dark Mahogany pew before sitting.

“Recite your hail Mary’s” he says to me before motioning me to turn back towards the altar.

“You too Travis.” He says to my brother, putting both of us back in the positions we were just in. Our father has always been strict about the time He sets aside for prayer, as any catholic priest would. It feels excessive though. More often than not, I’m on my knees at this altar for at least 30 minutes trying to satisfy him. It never seems like it is good enough. Or like I’m good enough. Each word in the prayer feels like a silent call for him to see me. See all of the effort I put in, and how much I care. But alas, he never does. I don’t know if he genuinely can’t see me or just doesn’t care. You'd think someone would care more for their children. A firm smack sounds off next to me. My father scolded Travis for forgetting part of the prayer, however this isn’t an uncommon occurrence. I think he tries to subtly spite my father whenever he gets the chance. Little things like taking the offering too early or leaving his bible in his room during study. I think he feels pride from it, like he's fighting for some control over what he does under the watchful eyes of our father, or he’s retaliating. It doesn't make sense to me though. With how much our father does for us, I think it's childish of him. Travis rubs the back of his head as my father returns to his previous position in the pew. I’ve already finished the prayer so I'm just waiting for Father to dismiss us. He said he will be very busy this week, so prayer time will be cut short.

“You are dismissed.” he said before standing up. I stood, feeling the sting of the carpet on my knees, I didn’t think I was there long enough to have carpet burn but I guess not. Father watches us stand and turns for us to follow him down the aisle. The wooden floor creaks under our weight as we walk, a muddle of echoes bouncing off the walls of the church. I look at the walls I’ve lived in all my life, looking for something new to find in the pattern. I pass by the uneven painted part of the wall that I've always thought looked like an elephant. The thin paint layers dried on top of themselves, making the wall darker in certain areas. A stripe of dark gray-the elephant's trunk-, a few small stray lines-its tusk-, and a dark spot, -its eye. We reach the large double door at the end of the room, before father puts on the hood of the cloak he is wearing. He motions for us to do the same, gesturing to the long black cloaks me and Travis are made to wear. I asked him about the cloaks once when I was younger, he said that we had to wear them because God said so. I then asked how he knows that before telling me God told him directly. He said that it's his job to fulfill God's wishes, since he's the priest. Since then, I haven't questioned him about it.

Stepping out into the hallway, I see the rest of the members of Phelps ministry in the same attire, faintly whispering to each other as they go about what they are doing. I pass two members standing next to the door on my left, leading into fathers' study. I waved to one of them, but neither of them waved back, eyes locked on my father. He motions for them to step aside, as he enters his study and shuts the brown door behind him. Disappearing until he calls for us again. As usual. The two members step back in front of the large door, before one of them shoo’s me away with his hand. Like I'm some dog. I feel my face heat up, angry that he would treat me this way before I feel Travis tug on my cloak. He tilts head to the end of the hall, where our rooms are. I look back to the member about to say something before Travis tugs harder on my cloak. His eyes widen before he quietly mouths ‘let's go’. I quietly huff, before begrudgingly following him down the hall to our rooms. When we get to the doors, he looks back down the hall to make sure no one is watching before he pulls me into his room and quickly shuts the door behind him.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!?” He whisper-yells after ripping the hood from his head.

“Travis! Watch your mouth! You know how he feels about cursing!” I whisper-yell back after removing my hood.

He rolls his eyes.

“Firstly,” He whispers while unclipping his cloak from around him. “He can't hear us right now because he is in his study, and secondly,” He throws the cloak down on his bed. “Maybe you should be more worried about what could've happened had I not stopped you!” He scolded, pointing his finger at me. I angrily ripped my cloak off before throwing it to the floor.

“Travis! That man shooed me off like I’m a dog! Don’t you think I deserve a Little more respect than that?!?” I angrily whispered back to him. He stepped closer and held my hands.

“(Y/N) of course you do but pay no mind to him. The only way you'll be treated differently here is if your name is Kenneth Phelps.” He whispered back, trying to reason with me.

“Think about what happened when you mouthed off to another member a while back, it wasn’t pretty was it?” He looks me in the eyes, brown staring into (E/C). Father didn’t discipline me quite like he did Travis, he had his own way of handling me. He says that he doesn’t like to hit women, so rather than me getting physically disciplined, he tends to lock me in my room. He says the best way to cast out sin is through isolation, God told him that too. I wouldn’t be allowed out of my room for days, the only interaction I would get was when I was given food or Travis would slide a note under my door at night. I hate that punishment, the longest it gone on was about two weeks, but two weeks feel like two years when you have nothing to distract yourself with. Besides sliding notes under the door with Travis. Sometimes I think I’d rather take the beating if it means he would speak to me again.

“Well, in that situation, I think it was deserved.” I whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible. His eyes widened before he scoffed.

“I will forever hate him for what he does to you (Y/N), no matter what he does.” He replies with a serious look on his face. I couldn’t hate my father; he only wants what's best for me. What's best for me and Travis, even if it means I don’t like what he does sometimes.

“You can’t hate him, Travis. He's our father.” I say as I look at him, his jaw drops to the floor.

“Why would you say that? Especially after everything he's done for us?” I question before Travis puts his hands in his hair and tries to hold back a frustrated scream. He walks off to the other side of the room and takes a deep breath, before picking my cloak back up and throwing it to me.

“I... -I honestly can’t with you right now (Y/N). I..” he sighs. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He says as he sits on his bed, defeated. Guilt immediately washes over me and I look down at my shoes, trying to think of a way to take back what I said.

I hate seeing Travis upset, because if He’s upset then I’m Upset. He’s my brother and I love him with everything I have. Even though he isn’t my full brother. Me and Travis were born around the same time, from two different mothers. They were other members of the church our father had chosen. I’ve never met his mother, and I haven't seen much of mine either, as most of the time I’m with Travis, Father or by myself. I don’t want the brief periods of time I get to spend un-supervised time with Travis to be negative. I decided to walk over to the bed and sit next to him, putting my hand on his shoulder. He flinched away from me initially, but eventually allowed me to touch him.

“I’m sorry...” I breathed. “I should have taken into consideration how you feel.” He looked over at me and gave me a small smile.

“It’s alright... I just...” He sighed before putting his head in his hands.

“My head hurts...” He groaned out quietly. I put my hand where our father hit him earlier, he hissed and flinched away.

“Not so hard please.”

“sorry” I apologized.

I put my hand back over the spot-gingerly this time- and rubbed my hand over the tender skin, feeling a knot start to form.

“He hit you kinda hard this time huh Trav?” I asked, to which he laughed breathily in response.

“That's a bit of an understatement.” He said while pulling my hand from his head. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around mine.

“Are you okay?” I asked, looking at my shoes.

“Yea, I’ll be okay.”

I looked up at him, worried that he wasn’t being fully honest. He looked down at me with a look of reassurance before giving me a hug. I wrapped my arms around his torso and buried my head in his shoulder. I missed his hugs so much. I would sit here and hug him all day if I could. We aren’t allowed to touch anyone else, so the brief hugs I get from Travis are so comforting. I felt a few drops of tears run down my nose, holding him as tight as I can.

“I love you, Travis.” I muttered into his purple sweater.

“I love you too (Y/N).” He said back. He pulled out of the hug and put his hands back on my shoulders before looking at me. He had an intense look in his eyes as he swiped away some of my tears.

“I know it's hard right now, but we will get through this.” He said, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m going to get us out of here.” He said before smiling at me. I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leave our father. I need him. I don’t think I could Live without him. I just smiled back and nodded at him.

“You should probably head back to your room (Y/N). We can’t risk anyone hearing or seeing us together without another member present.” He spoke. I pouted, knowing he was right. I wish we got to spend more time together, un-watched and unfiltered. I sighed before getting up off the bed.

“we’ll talk again soon. I promise.” He assured me. I nodded as I put my cloak on and pulled it over my head. I walked to the door and stood Infront of it for a second. Taking a deep breath and readying myself to step outside. I looked back at my brother.

“Bye Travis...” I said, before waving. He smiled and waved back as I cracked the door open. I look down the long brown hallway, making sure I don't see any black cloaks before quietly stepping out. Quickly, I swing the door open, so it doesn't squeak on its hinges. I quietly tip-toed out of the room before quickly closing the door but shutting it gently to not make any noise. I quickly and quietly ran down the wooden hall to my room, holding my breath, trying not to make any noise. Once I got to my room, I carefully did the same thing I did when I left Travis’s room.

Once the door to my room was closed, I let out the breath that I was holding and sunk into the floor. I felt exhausted. I haven’t even done much today besides the usual bible study, sermon and prayers that was hosted by my father. Yet, I felt I had been working outside all day. I looked over to the window in my room, Seeing the sun beginning to set. I stood up and walked over to the window, Looking down at the road at the bottom of the hill. If I followed that road, what would it lead to? I’ve snuck out of my room a few times, but I haven’t ventured too far. Usually, I would just sneak around the back of the church, doing my best to dodge the cameras my father had put in place. More often than not going into the forest and sitting by the creek next to the large willow tree. Sometimes, I sit in the tree, or try to cross the stream by stepping on the rocks. Which was hard most of the time due to how dark it was. I wasn’t stupid enough to sneak out during the day, so I would go at night, or after father went into his study for the rest of the day. I continue to watch the sun disappear behind the trees of Nockfell. I was Debating on if I wanted to sneak out tonight, feeling adrenaline slowly start to rush through my veins at the thought.

No, I shouldn’t. I’m too tired. I turned away from the window after shutting the white curtains. I took off my cloak and hung it off the hanger in my closet. I decided to start getting ready for sleep, so I grabbed my white nightgown, A clean towel and a clean pair of underwear before I walked into the bathroom connected to my room. I shut the door, flicked on the light as I put my belongings on the counter and began to undress. I looked forward to the hot water running down my back and over my head. A very nice way to end the day. I catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. My long (H/C) Cascading down the shoulders of my naked form. I’m not the prettiest, But I consider myself average. Comparing myself to the girls in the magazine Travis brought home for me one day. I looked at my body, critiquing and judging every inch of skin before a thought ran through my mind. It was an image of a pair of large hands, running them across my naked chest. I felt the blood rush to my face and other areas of my body, imagining these hands being connected to a pair of large strong arms. Thinking about them wrapping themselves around my torso, as well as a pair of lips contacting the back of my neck. Instinctively I put my hands to my breasts and began to run my hands across the mounds. The friction of my hands against my nipples sending pleasurable shivers down my spine. Then another thought ran through my head. It was about the lesson that was taught today during father's sermon. Sins of the flesh are not to be tampered with. It was the entrance to the devil's playground. He emphasized to not flirt with the idea of sexual contact, no matter how seductive it may be.

I immediately dropped my hands from my chest and turned towards the shower. Stay Focused (Y/N), you must not falter. I turned on the shower running my hand under the water, adjusting the nobs on the shower until it reached a comfortable temperature. I stepped into the shower and closed the curtain. I turned on the shower head and stood under the hot water, allowing it to soak into my hair and the skin of my back. I stood there for a minute or so, enjoying the feeling of warmth on my scalp and back. Eventually, I began my shower, washing my hair and body, and shaving. I remember the day father told me to start shaving. Saying that the likelihood of me getting a suitable husband wouldn't be as high with that much hair on my body. He also told me that it was unsanitary for a woman. I finished my shower and began to towel off, slipping into my underwear and long ankle length nightgown. Stepping out of the bathroom and turning off the light, I felt the colder air hit my warm face, fresh from the hot shower. I felt the tiredness in my limbs and the heaviness in my eyelids as I looked at my all-white bed.

I pulled back the covers and slipped under them, enjoying the soft fabric against my skin. I flipped over onto my stomach and turned off my lamp light. Letting the darkness of my room envelop me and sway me into the hands of sleep.

[ruminate88]

How I got my start in life

I was born in August of ‘88. I had one older brother whom was 9 and a half years older than me. I had swallowed fluid and had the umbilical chord wrapped around my neck. My mom claimed she had an easy birth with me but I was born septic. I could not hold down any baby formula and therefore, I was not allowed to leave the hospital. My mother had to leave without me. Having that rough start in life made me behind others my age. I was very weak and once I made it to school, they were already labeling me. They suggested I be held back in kindergarten but my father wouldn’t accept my battles and insisted nothing was wrong with me and to push me into the 1st grade. It wasn’t until 2nd grade that school labeled me as one with a “Learning Disability” and I was then sent to the resource room with others like me and some even worse off than me. We were taught that we couldn’t read on our own without an aid read to us. We couldn’t test on our own nor did most of us feel capable of doing much on our own without an “adult” to help us. That label became my biggest battle and a mountain I never dreamt I could climb. The one silver lining for me, was that, my mother was told I could “out-grow” the disability but no one told me. I walked through my childhood feeling so “small” and “weak”. I was very afraid of so many things and sensitive too! If my mom or anyone at school raised their voice towards me, I would fall apart! Many occasions teachers or bus drivers had to raise their voices and it always made me nervous. I believe because this was such a trigger for me growing up, that’s why whenever I went through narcissistic abuse, it was somewhat normal for me but put me back in the negative mindset I had as a child.

Also at a very young age, I believe at about 5 years old, I began to “touch myself” constantly and although I had no clue what I was doing, I learned how to make myself pleasure. I did it repetitively, anywhere, even in front of family. My mother would insist I had to stop or I’d make myself sick!! I didn’t stop till I was probably in the 3rd grade? I can’t really remember. However, I knew something was wrong with me then. Other kids around me never did it and always questioned me why I did but I had no explanation other than I knew in my head that it “felt so good”. I started that sickly habit back up privately in the 5th grade when I started to have periods and become hormonal. By the 5th grade, I was getting very curious about “sexuality” and wanting to know how to have sex.

my father was always unaccepting of me “struggling” or “not being smart”. He did not fully accept how hyper I was or that I had any problems of any kind. Instead, he treated me the way he was treated. My father was of 7 kids. He grew up somewhat poor and didn’t get his way ever, as he had to share everything with his siblings. Me, only having one older sibling, I didn’t have to share hardly anything. My mother always gave me what I needed and even the things I wanted (within reason). My parents weren’t rich but we were middle class. Since I was born septic and was so small for my age, my mom was very protective of me and stayed very involved with my life, whereas, my dad, couldn’t accept my reality and he would even get defensive towards situations I had to face. He also gave me things I wanted since I was the only girl. I wasn’t a materialistic person though. I just wanted to be “understood” and “accepted”. I always believed stuff was wrong with me and I was different than normal kids.

Finally, I grew up in a huge family, with both my parents being born of 7 kids equally, I was surrounded by countless grandparents, aunts and uncles, and plenty of cousins to play with. My cousins always accepted me, however, there was moments they knew I was struggling but couldn’t understand or help me. Also, both sides of my family were all Christians and extremely empathetic and giving. I only grew up knowing to “put others before yourself”. Especially “weak and needy people” even though I was made to feel weak in school!!

[riahollywood]

friends with benefits | christian pulisic

notes: because the logical thing to do when you have an inbox full of requests is to write something that literally ✨ no one ✨ asked for.

fully in my christian era. enjoy x

—

you took in a deep breath, not intending it to come out as shakey as it did. you looked yourself up and down in the mirror, the pastel blue matching lace set complimenting your sun kissed skin.

you slipped a casual black t shirt dress over the top, knowing it didn’t matter too much as it wouldn’t be on for any length of time. you placed your hands at your hips, sucking your stomach in, angling yourself in different poses. you pondered to yourself, did you look good enough… good enough for him?

it had all stemmed from the day you moved in. christian hadn’t been looking where he was going and had walked straight into you in the lobby of the building.

you hadn’t seen him as you were carrying a box of your belongings as you moved your items in. mortified, christian had immediately apologised and helped you pick your belongings off the floor. he insisted he helped you with the rest of your stuff but you assured him that was the last box, not wanting to bother him.

truth be told, as soon as you laid eyes on him and his dark brown eyes glistening under the artificial light, you had developed a crush of him.

to your delight, he turned up the next evening with a bottle of wine to apologise again and welcome you into the building. one thing had led to another as you got to know eachother, his hand slipping a little too high up your thigh and when he saw your gaze flickering down to his lips, he couldn’t help himself from leaning in and kissing you. the next thing you knew he was helping you christen every room of your new apartment.

it had became a regular occurrence, late night trips to eachother’s apartments and blissful amounts of pleasure. but that was all it was. just sex.

it had been going on for a few months now and this evening was no different to any other, at least to him anyway. you hadn’t seen christian for a couple of weeks as you had been on holiday and whilst away, you found yourself missing him. not just the sex, but him. his caring personality, his funny jokes, the way he held you at night and insisted you stayed, even if more often than not he was gone in the morning when you awoke.

the prospect of him possibly seeing some other girl to get his fix whilst you were away left you feeling sick. to ensure he didn’t forget about you, you had sent an array of revealing bikini snaps over the past fortnight. they had done the trick with christian desperate to see you as soon as you got off the plane.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when your phone buzzed.

Christian: you still coming over? x

you gulped, knowing time was getting on and you needed to leave before you lost his interest.

you always took care of your appearance and you were often pleased with how you looked, but it was because of the butterflies in your tummy that you just couldn’t feel completely satisfied with your appearance tonight.

you tapped out a quick reply saying you were just leaving before spritzing your favourite perfume and being on your way.

- -

you had barely knocked once on the door when it flung open, christian standing there with a smile ear to ear, seemingly genuinely happy to see you.

he was wearing an old training top and a black pair of shorts which you always loved on him as they left little to the imagination.

you exchanged hellos and entered his apartment, taking a seat on a kitchen stool as he poured you both a glass of wine.

“so, how was Spain?” he asked, placing the glass of wine in front of you before taking a sip of his own.

“it was lovely, nice to get a real tan for a change.” you giggled and christian raised his eyebrows.

“i’m looking forward to seeing those tan lines.” he spoke and you let out a small chuckle, shivers running up your body as the thought of what was to come played in your mind.

“so how’s your week been? been training much?” you tried your best to make small talk but as christian replied, you were struggling to focus on what he was saying, instead staring into the deep brown pools of his eyes, down to the freckles on his face where he must’ve caught the sun himself, to his plump pink lips, his tongue darting out every so often to wetten them.

he must’ve asked a question as the noise stopped and he looked at you expectedly as though you were to say something.

you shook your head. “sorry, did you ask something?”

he smirked as you watched his tongue poke at his cheek through the inside of his mouth.

“fuck it, i can’t wait any longer and looks like you can’t either.”

your heart began racing as he scooped you off the stool and into his arms, carrying you bridal style across to his bedroom and placing you down on his bed.

he pulled his shirt off over his head and you took in his tanned abs, god, his body truly was divine.

he noticed you staring and that cheeky smirk was back on his face.

he brought his ink covered arm up to your face and gently used his hand to push your jaw to close your mouth.

“seen something you like, sweetheart?” he remarked, now hovering over you, his cross necklace dangling between your bodies.

“i’ve missed you.” you commented a little too seriously which left christian looking slightly taken aback. “i mean, i’ve missed this. i’ve missed having you on top of me.” you tried to cover your tracks and luckily it worked as christian’s hands toyed with the bottom of your dress, waiting for you to sit up so he could pull it over your head.

he slipped your dress off, leaving you in just the lacey set, tossing the material to the other side of the room to be found later. a groan escaped his lips as his hand made their way down your body, from your face to your hardened nipples through the thin lace, all the way down to rest at your hips.

“i missed you too, baby. do you have any idea what those pictures did to me?” he finally replied, eyes glazed over in lust.

you suddenly felt shy, a “mhm.” leaving your lips as you stared into christian’s eyes.

you turned your head slightly to the side as christian bought his face down to nuzzle into your neck, soft moans leaving your lips as he licked and gently sucked at the skin, inhaling your sweet scent, scattering small kisses in between as he spoke. “had me getting off to the thought of being there with you, sweetheart.”

christian’s hand finally traced over where you wanted him the most, grazing over your clit. a sigh left your lips at the thought of him laying on his bed, stroking his cock as he thought of you played out in your mind.

“did you think of me, baby? wish I was there with you?” christian spoke as his fingers continued their movements, smirking to himself when he felt just how wet he had made you.

“mhm, made myself come thinking of you a couple of times.” christian’s head snapped up at your words, smugness taking over his entire expression.

“fuck, really?”

you nodded, humming in response. “thought about what it would’ve been like if you were there with me, taking me back to the room to fill me up with your big cock, making me scream your name for everyone to hear.”

your words were too much for christian and he swiftly removed his shorts, grabbing himself into his hand as he climbed back onto the bed.

“well you’re lucky you don’t have to imagine anymore.” he made quick work at removing your underwear, a sharp breath leaving him as he took in your tan lines.

he teased his tip over your entrance, dragging it up and down, collecting your wetness onto him and chucking to himself at just how wet he had made you.

all of a sudden he threw his head back and mumbled an annoyed ‘fuck’ to himself.

“what’s up?” you questioned, propping yourself up onto your elbows.

“i… i don’t have any condoms.” he replied and you tutted in annoyance, secretly being happy. you had used the last one on your last trip to his flat the morning before you left so this was confirmation he hadn’t had anyone over since then.

“umm, i don’t mind… i mean, if you want to…” you trailed off, not being able to look him in the eyes. “i’m on the pill.”

“fuck, are you sure?” his gaze was fixated on your face, checking to make sure you really meant it.

you finally met his gaze again and nodded your head. “that’s okay with me.”

christian’s adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and all of a sudden the dynamic of the room changed. he bought his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear, taking in every new freckle that was on your face from the sun.

“sun kissed is a great look on you.” he muttered out, eyes still fixated on you. “you look beautiful.”

this was the first time he had ever paid you a compliment like this. hot, sexy, sure. but never beautiful.

“thank you.” you replied quietly, feeling nerves at the situation you were in, despite nothing really being new.

“weren’t this quiet when you were sending me those pictures were you, sweetheart?” he teased. you didn’t reply, mouth slightly agape. “what’s the matter, baby?” he teased, running his cock across your entrance.

“please, christian.” you whined, mind too hazy to form a full sentence. luckily, christian was quick to indulge you.

“you want my cock?” christian teased, pushing just his tip into you. you nodded innocently and he growled, capturing your lips with his, his voice hot and heavy with need as he whispered against your mouth. “tell me what you want, baby.”

“christian, I need you to fuck me. fuck me so hard till you’re the only thing I can think of.” you pleaded, completely and utterly desperate at this point.

he smirked and gladly obliged, pushing all the way into you slowly so you felt every curve till he was bottoming out. the feeling of him being bare inside you for the first time, especially with your newfound feelings for the man, sent shivers up your spine and made the situation feel different to all the intimate moments you had shared before.

he built up a pace and steadily thrusted in and out of out of you, bringing one of your legs up to wrap around his body so he could get a better angle, only being satisfied when he was sure he was hitting your sweet spot each time he entered you as a moan of his name left your lips.

he momentarily halted his pace to attach his lips. to yours. you sighed into the kiss as his tongue slipped into your mouth, battling against yours.

you dug your nails into his back, indicating you needed more and christian pulled his hips back and thrust them forward in a slow, smooth stroke. you whimpered out in pleasure and christian moved to kiss your neck.

“christian,” you cried. “feels so good.”

he smirked as he bought his fingers up to his lips and licked two of them before sliding his hand between your bodies. his fingers found your clit right away and he started rubbing fast circles, hoping to bring you close to that edge as he continued to pound into you.

christian felt you flutter around his cock, muttering ‘fuck’ before looking down at the sight of his member moving in and out of you. “you’re close, baby girl.” he stated, as though he knew your body better than you did.

“mmm, fuck, christian, please- please don’t stop,” you managed to mutter out, eyes clenched shut as you tightened around him. this only caused him to fasten his pace, thrusts now hard and fast as the sound of his skin slapping yours filled the room.

when you fluttered around him once more, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“taking my big cock so well, angel. you going to come all over it like a good girl?” he bent down to speak into your ear.

you moaned his name in response, your body shaking under him as he expertly moved between your legs.

“that’s it baby, going to come in your perfect little pussy, going to fill you up with my come.” you whined loudly at his words, throwing your head back as you came around him, a combination of the tightness and your moans bringing him to his high as he released into you.

after you had both came down, christian stayed collapsed on top of you and still inside you for a minute, catching his breath. his sweaty forehead was pressed against your shoulder and you wanted nothing more than to wipe the hair off his forehead and give him a kiss before cuddling up in a sweaty mess together.

unbeknown to you, christian was debating getting up and getting a damp cloth to clean you up. he imagined taking care of you, dressing you in his clothes and holding you in his arms all night. he thought about what it would feel like to wake up next to you, to be able to press soft kisses to your skin before pulling himself away from you to bring you breakfast in bed. to treat you like the princess you deserved to be treated like. but you both knew the deal, friend with benefits, no messy emotional shit. besides, he didn’t want to scare you off and lose what you did have.

the feel of his warm skin on yours as his body lay on top of yours was blissful, sending electricity up your body. you breathed in his scent, relishing in the moment before having to remind yourself he wasn’t yours, and this was just sex.

you felt your eyes begun to involuntary well up with tears and you sniffled to try and stop the tears from falling. bad move.

christian immediately looked up to you, worry spreading across his face when he saw the water pooling in your eyes.

“fuck, baby, are you okay? did i hurt you?” he asked as he pulled out of you; making you wince at the sudden loss, but making christian think he had hurt you. “oh fuck, was i too rough? shit, i didn’t realise, i’m so-“

“no.” you cut him off. “no, christian. you didn’t hurt me.”

he climbed off you so he was now next to you on the bed.

“are you sure?” he asked, bringing a hand to stroke at your cheek. you swatted it away and he looked sad.

“i just… i don’t think i can do this anymore.” you replied before getting yourself out of the bed and quickly putting your clothes back on as fast as you possibly could.

you just wanted to get home and sob to yourself, you didn’t want him to see.

“y/n, baby, have i done something? please don’t leave, we can talk, i ca-“

“i think i’m falling in love with you.” you replied, voice shakey as a tear slipped down your cheek.

christian looked like he was in a state of shock, his mouth slightly open as he tried to reply, but nothing came out, no matter how hard he tried. he just couldn’t find the words.

“can you say something? anything?” you spoke almost desperately as you watched him continue to look blank as he tried to process your admission, no words coming out.

“i-i…” christian struggled out, shaking his head in shock.

you let out a short laugh out of embarrassment. “forget it, I’m sorry.” you rushed out of his room and out of his flat as fast as you possibly could, feeling a mixture of relief and heartbreak when he didn’t follow.

- - -

send me a request here!

[ocean-anchored]

Dear future self... March 21, 2023

I’m late I know. I wasn’t feeling it last sunday as I felt like I wasn’t in the best head space and as the week went on I figured I’d just wait till sunday again which ended up being so busy. Where to start. Back to Dillon being the asshole he is. It’s really unfortunate. I can’t remember when it was that we had a call where he raised his voice and told me to go cry a fucking river when I said how disrespectful it was leaving us high and dry March after ALL the things I’ve done for him. Haven’t really talked to him since. He did pay February finally but that whole friendship is over and I may never see or talk to him again so who cares. Sadly not loosing much there.  On the friday two weeks ago I was cleaning up contacts in my phone (was clearly bored at work) and came across Mitch. He’s been on my mind for a long time. I just felt really bad about how I ended everything and how I kind of just cut things off cold so I wrote an apology text just to tell him that I didn’t mean to hurt him. In no way, shape or form did I intend it to be as a “let’s try again” type of thing and that (on top of Dillon’s shit) is why I wasn’t in the best headspace. Hanging out escalated to a point that I felt a lot of shame the next day. I’m still trying to deal with that and back off as I don’t have any intention of dating or a relationship. I truly am happy being single and keeping to myself this year and I worry about hurting him again and him taking things the wrong way. I stepped out of my comfort zone again that week and went to a church group where I didn’t know anyone. Divine from church had joined me into this group and they had a gathering that again I had no idea who or what it was about but I showed up and it ended up really great. Met Eryn which was really nice who goes to Redemption as well and it was nice to just be around Christians. The night was around the Navigators and discipleship. Something I’m still so shy about but it was a good experience and I’m proud I went.  Last week was pretty good. Finally bought Ed Sheeran tickets, just about cried. Going to see him in September with Dustin in Vancouver and I literally cannot wait. I’ve waited far too long for this and really look forward to this most.

Thursday I went to Nose Hill with Amber and her bf with all our dogs for a walk in the afternoon which was so nice. I really love the flexibility I have and still catch myself feeling like I’m taking things for granted and I’m not doing enough but lunch with Ed cleared that - will get to that. I went for dinner later that day with Kamber another girl I met on Bumble BFF and it’s been nice chatting with her as well. We have so much in common. Sometimes I feel like I talk to much with her and sometimes I feel like I’m always looking for another topic to talk about but our conversation is genuine and it’s refreshing. She’s super sweet and down to earth. Friday I “took the day off” from YCH technically since I don’t work Friday’s with Ed. Went for sushi and that was really great. Just more solidifying that we’re a great team and we’re both happy with how things are going and the work progressing. I know he appreciates me and it was nice to just clear some work things up but also be able to chat about so many other channels and things. I’m really so blessed to be working with him. He said at the end that he hopes that I do work for him for the rest of our lives which really is my goal. It was from this lunch with Ed that my weekend ended up being nonstop with barley a minute to myself. Mitch came over to watch movies friday night which was alright. Got up early and went to Lake Louise and Lake MInewanka with mom Saturday for the whole day. It was a really great day, absolutely beautiful out. Such a perfect day (we always seem to get those when we go out together). Came back in the evening and went to chat with Mel. It was a good, needed talk. We challenged each other with the little fit we had the week before and how I’ve felt like she hasn’t been part or contributed to our relationship but she’s explained how sick she’s been and stressed and we had a good cry and we talked it through. Really healthy. I appreciate that she takes the initiative to chat to sort things out and we’re re-learning communication with each other in a healthy way. Nova was so patient in the car that we went to Currie Barracks after to walk the park where they set up lanterns and lights everywhere, it was nice but getting home at 9:30PM was exhausting.  Sunday went to church which was as always, great. Helped mom with her zoom set up and took Nova out when I got home. Steven came over right away and we gamed for a bit and watched the Office. It was good, nice to also spend time with him personally but I do love Amanda. Been building my own relationship with her which has been really great.  Anyways that’s a basic catch up. It’s been super super busy and I’m peopled out. I’m going to try to focus this week on chilling and recouping as its Amber’s Birthday on Thursday and I’m taking a couple of us to the Flames game which I’m really excited for. All is well. I’m still super happy all around. This year seems to just keep getting better and I have so many things to look forward to this year. 

[darling-i-read-it]

May Queen

Pelle x reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: being indoctored into a cult, murder, suicide, basically the plot of midsommar

Author’s Note: This can be seen as a sequel to ‘Hug’ or it can be read on it’s own!

yeah i was a little excited that you guys wanted this one lol I don’t know if you can tell. I’ve seen this movie enough, it was about time I did something within the events of the film. I also referred to the script so some of the lines will be familiar! I hope you all enjoy!

Requested: by anon, omg your pelle fic wow; would you consider doing a sequel to it that either takes place during the events of the film or just before they arrive at Pelle's commune?

Requested: by anon, I would LOVEEE to see a sequel with pelle cause that was a pretty good fix and I think he deserves a bit more attention, I personally would like to see something happen during the events of the movie just because I think it would be interesting to see but that's just me

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“You think that Pelle asked you to go just because I’m going?” Dani asked, messing with her fingers. You were standing beside your bed, packing your suitcase slowly. Dani had already packed; she didn’t like to be unprepared.

“I don’t know...maybe he thought you would enjoy yourself more.”

“You’re acting like I’m the one who’s been dating him for these couple of months,” she told you. She was sitting on the bed, looking up at you. You nodded a bit, putting another pile of clothes inside.

“I know. I guess I’m just nervous. Meeting his whole group, going to where he grew up. I mean. I really like him. What if I fuck it up?” She shook her head and reached over to grab your arm. You looked her in the eyes.

“He really likes you. I can’t remember the last time Christian looked at me the way that Pelle looks at you.” Her eyes were honest. It made you feel bad. You should have gotten her to break up with Christian when you got the chance. But it was too late now; you were all going to Sweden.

“I suppose you’re right. Per usual.” She smiled weakly.

“Finish packing.”

=======

Pelle almost wanted to tell you about the whole thing. When he was on the plane, it crossed his mind to let you in on the whole scheme of things. The May Queen, the festival, all of it.

But he bit his tongue. That was tradition.

You arrived in Sweden well and took the trek up to where the first stop was. It was beautiful. Truly, it was stunning.

Pelle held your hand the whole way until you arrived at the first spot. There were people around the grassy hills, scattered around. Pelle got out of the car.

“These are other people from America that my friends have brought!” he exclaimed. He gestured to the many people around. You looked around, gazing at the nice afternoon. He grabbed your arm and started to drag you along.

“Hey, don’t rip it off!” you joked and he eased up.

“Sorry, I’m quite excited!” You smiled sweetly at his happiness.

“Me too!” He approached some people and started to introduce them when a man behind you started to yell. You turned around quickly, surprised at the loud noise. Pelle turned around too and his smile only grew.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said and then ran over to the approaching man. They embraced each other, hugging tightly.

“Everyone, this is my brother Ingemar. Ingemar this is Christian, Dani, Mark, Josh and my girlfriend, Y/N,” Pelle said. Ingemar followed where Pelle pointed, shaking hands with everyone. He paid special attention to you, his smile getting wider. You could tell that he and Pelle were related.

“Nice to meet you all. This is Simon and Connie from London,” he said, gesturing to the others behind him. “Simon and Connie this is Pelle and...all the names I just remembered two seconds ago,” Ingemar said laughing. Simon and Connie said hello. “Perfect timing by the way.”

Ingemar pulled out a bag of mushrooms from his pocket. Your eyes went wide.

“We just took these five minutes ago. Haven’t even started feeling the effects yet,” he explained.

“Oh shit!” Mark said, happily.

“Do you all want to take it now or should we get settled in?” Pelle asked.

“Fuck it, let’s take it now!” Mark said. You weren’t too sure about that. You trusted Pelle and everyone of course but in the new environment...it rubbed you the wrong way. Thankfully, Dani turned to speak to Christian about it.

“I think I want to get settled in first.” Christian was about to speak but you cut him off.

“Me too. You guys go and have fun, we’ll keep each other company,” you said. Pelle turned to you.

“Are you sure? I assure you it’s safe,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled kindly and put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I know! I just wanna get settled. Dani and I can handle ourselves, I promise.” He gave you a longer look, just to check that you were alright and then nodded. You turned back to Dani who grabbed your arm desperately.

“Thank you,” she whispered. You nodded.

“No thank you.”

=====

It wasn’t until the next day, Dani’s birthday, that you were able to get on further. You and Dani played some card games that you had brought with you while you waited for the effects to wear off for everyone else.

Christian came over to sleep beside Dani, still high. Pelle came over to you and braided your hair and then unbraided your hair, making very long sentences that didn’t make sense to whisper in your ear.

But when you arrived at the commune it was bright and sunny. Pelle rushed around, hugging people and introducing you and the group to everyone. You were able to get some blankets to sit on the grass, while everyone got their things together.

There was a group of girls dancing around in circles, wearing all white.

“You should go join,” Pelle suggested, gesturing to you and Dani. She shook her head a bit.

“Oh no, I’m too scared,” Dani said sheepishly. You nodded in agreement.

“Maybe another time.” Christian stood up.

“Hey can I join…” he started turning to Pelle.

“You’re American. Just jam yourself in,” he said. Christian nodded and walked away. “I think I’ll join him,” Simon said and was quickly followed by the rest of the group except you, Pelle and Dani. There was a moment of silence as you watched them go.

“Hey, just real quick,” Pelle said, digging for something in his pocket. He took out two pieces of paper and handed them to you and Dani. You both opened them to reveal gorgeously drawn pictures of yourselves wearing flower crowns. “For you Dani, think of it as a birthday present. For you Y/N, I imagine it’s a thank you present.”

“Oh Pelle,” Dani said. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“Thank you for what?” you asked, brushing your finger over it. He smiled and shrugged.

“Just a thank you.”

“Well thank you for it,” you said. “I got Dani a new sweater. Christian forgot.” Pelle raised his eyebrow and you shared a look.

“I forgot to tell him...it’s my fault,” Dani explained. You shook your head.

“I tend to disagree,” you muttered. You folded the picture back up and put it in your pocket. You put your head on Pelle’s shoulders “But I think Christian is rude.”

“Perhaps you are too judgemental,” Pelle mused. “But I tend to agree with you regardless.” You and Dani laughed a bit. “We should probably go and catch up with them in case they get lost.”

=====

You got settled in in one of the large buildings, plenty of beds against the walls. Pelle was on the bed to your right while Dani slept on the one to your left.

“All right, beauty rest! Tomorrow’s a big day!” Pelle announced. You had one of the books you had brought open on your lap but you looked up at him.

“What’s tomorrow?” you asked.

“First of the big cerinomines,” he said mysteriously.

“So you’re just going to be weird and cryptic?” Josh asked, laughing a bit. Pelle pauses and then took Josh's notebook, writing something inside. You made an attempt to look but it was not a word that you recognized.

“What’s that?” Christian questioned. Pelle shrugged and laid down in his bed. You faced him, on the bed beside him.

“What is it?” you whispered to him. He gave you a teasing smile.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“I will come over there and tickle it out of you,” you threatened. He chuckled and turned around so he wasn’t facing you. But he put his arm back behind him, reaching across the space between your two beds.

You grabbed it and rubbed his knuckles anxiously.

=====

There was a very odd breakfast the next day but you tried not to judge. You wanted to really appreciate Pelle’s culture and understand it. He had admired you for your understanding and he knew you would make an effort.

That’s why he chose to love you.

You were the obvious choice.

After that you walked out to a cliffside where most of the people were already out and lined up. You were curious to find complete silence. Everyone was silent as it happened and you were able to do nothing but watch as these two elderly people stood up on top of the cliff.

When the first person, a woman, jumped, you grabbed Pelle, putting your hand in front of your mouth. He grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you but it didn’t change the look of serenity on his face.

Simon was standing next to Ingemar yelling as the man approached the cliffside.

You had your face in Pelle’s arms. You were shaking.

“It is the way of life,” he whispered to you. Simon was still screaming. Another elder was talking to him and you could feel Pelle want to move toward them but he stayed beside you. “It is our way of recycling them and their gifts.”

You pulled away from him and shook your head a bit. You met Dani’s eyes. She wasn’t showing much emotion other than shock. You didn’t blame her.

“They’re dead,” you whispered. He nodded and put his hands on your upper arms.

“And it is an honor to have died that way.” You weren’t sure how to feel. You wanted to be understanding, to try and understand him and his ways. You would want that from him. But he should have prepared you more for that.

You walked over to Dani and walked beside her on the way back to the houses.

=====

“I’m leaving,” Dani said.

“I don’t blame you.” She was already packing a bag. You sat down on your bed, head in your hands. You took a deep breath and leaned back on the bed.

“Are you coming with me?” she asked. Her voice was shaking. She was clearly shaken up by all of this.

“No,” you muttered. “I’m not leaving Pelle yet.”

“Not even after that?” Her voice was quiet but it was urgent. You shook your head a bit.

“I just have to talk to him. He should have warned us more, of course but....it’s what he’s been raised to believe is normal. I don’t think I should think of it as a bad thing.”

“We just watched people die!” You stood up off the bed and put your hands on your upper arms, steading her.

“You can go home and I will not blame you. In the slightest. I just think I should stay longer,” you told her. She nodded solemnly. She took a deep breath in through her nostrils and nodded again.

=====

Before bed that night Pelle approached you. You were standing outside of the bed house, leaning against it to try and clear your thoughts. You almost completely ignored him but in the end you locked eyes with him as he approached.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you adequate warning,” he said sympathetically. He grabbed your hand and held it. “I thought you would understand but I know now that it was wrong of me to assume.” You shook your head quickly.

“I understand it was just...a shock,” you muttered. He nodded and kissed your forehead softly.

“You are completely safe here. I want you to know that.” He looked you in the eyes when he said it. You believed him. You nodded back and gestured to the house.

“Let’s get some shut eye huh? And maybe warn me if we see another person...you know.” You made a slicing gesture across your neck. He laughed gently and nodded, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you inside.

=====

Dani walked up to you, still distraught but less so. You were standing beside Pelle the next day as he kneeled in front of the ground picking some vegetables. You turned to her as she walked up, ready to handle whatever she was about to throw at you.

“Hey,” you said, taking the step away from Pelle and toward her.

“Hi. Did you see Simon left without Connie?” she asked. You raised an eyebrow and shook your head.

“Seriously? What a dick.” She clearly felt a little bit off put by it so you lowered your voice. “You think it’s weird?” Dani nodded a bit.

“I don’t know...it’s a little weird. They seemed so close.” You nodded. They did seem close.

“I don’t know...something to keep in mind I suppose.” She nodded quickly in agreement.

======

Dinner that night was simple pastries. You were pleased. The last food they had given you wasn’t your kind of taste. You sat between Pelle and Dani again.

“Have you seen Connie?” Dani asked you quietly. You shook your head.

“Excuse me but I know what happened,” a man sitting beside Mark said. “Her boyfriend called the landline from the train station. She begged us to drive her so we took her down to the station.” You nodded slowly, glancing at Pelle. He shrugged, seemingly in agreement.

“Why would Simon leave without her?” you asked quietly.

“I can see you doing that,” Dani muttered at Christian. You wanted to laugh so you turned to Pelle, sneaking a smile. He shrugged with a smile on his face also.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Christian asked.

“Nevermind.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Pelle said quietly, so only you could hear. You ate a bite of the pastry proudly.

“You’re damn right.”

======

One of the important books was stolen that night. They announced it at breakfast.

“Where is your friend Josh?” one of the elders asked, after breakfast. You, Christian, Dani and Pelle all stood in front of the two elders, caught like a deer in headlights.

“I know. We have no idea,” Christian said.

“He and your other friend disappear in the same day. You understand how that looks.”

“Yes obviously, but we swear to you we are not a part of this,” Christian said. Dani shuffled a bit.

“We did see Mark go off with one of the girls last night,” she said.

“Which girl?”

“Inga,” Pelle said.

“But Mark wouldn’t have done this. Josh, though, he came to bed with us, and when we woke up, he was gone. And if he did take that book, I just pray you understand we do not identify as friends of his, or collaborators, or anything. I certainly don't vouch for him and we'd be so embarrassed to be connected to this in any way,” Christian explained.

“I feel responsible,” Pelle said. The elders nodded a bit.

“Well you and Odd can go looking. Perhaps you can redeem them,” one of the elders said. You didn’t want Pelle to leave. You didn’t like it when you were separated here. You believed him when he said you were safe but...it was still a little odd. “You two will be going with the women for the day’s activity,” he said to you and Dani. “And Siv asks to see you in her house,” she said to Christian.

You glanced at Pelle as he left. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, almost saying ‘do well!’.

=====

You and Dani got dressed in white shirts with flower crowns. It made you a tad bit nervous but at least you had her.

She gestured to the drink they were handing out. Cups had been given to both of you to drink it.

“Can I ask what’s in this?” Dani asked one of the girls.

“It’s...tea for the dancing competition.” You raised an eyebrow but took a glass anyway. Dani looked back at you and you shrugged.

“I’ll beat you,” you muttered.

“Try me.”

You both took drinks of the tea.

Your head became fuzzy the second it hit your throat. You hadn’t taken those drugs before hand and you almost didn’t want to do it now but it was already done. Your feet were moving along with the girls, tossing bodies left and right it felt like.

You lost sight of Dani very quickly.

You were running and jumping and laughing until the elder lady yelled to stop then you kept dancing.

Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing.

Dancing.

It seemed to go on forever. Your mind was hazed, your head hurt, your glances were so quick they gave you whiplash. You were smiling brightly when they announced they were down to the final eight. You finally saw Dani again, in the eight with you.

All of the fallen dancers had sat off on the side. You saw Christian, looking hilariously out of place. And Pelle.

Your heart swelled with love for Pelle. You could barely know anything else for a moment as you stared at him.

You couldn’t see it but in that moment, Dani believed she learned how much she hated Christian.

Then more dancing.

People were speaking and then it was just you and Dani, holding hands, dancing around in a circle, tired and out of breath. She stared at you and a smile went over her face as she held your hand.

And then she tripped. You stopped dancing and someone ran up to you, putting their hands on your shoulder.

“It’s over?” you asked.

“You are our May Queen!” they yelled. You were still hazzed. Each face looked the same. The people running up to you were strangers but you felt nothing but warmth for them. They placed a different flower crown atop your head.

Pelle ran up to you smiling brightly.

“Wow! May Queen, my love!” he said, giving you a strong kiss, both his hands resting on your cheeks. You were smiling brightly and then he was gone. You didn’t want him to go.

They carried you on a platform to a dinner table where you sat at the head, Dani beside you and Pelle on the other side as usual.

One of the elders stood at the end of the dinner.

“Now it is traditional for the May Queen to bless our crops and livestock. And after the luck you just inherited from that salt herring, we should all be doubly encouraged.” You looked around nervously.

“Can Pelle come with me?”

“No. The Queen must ride alone.”

You were starting to come to your own and realize how crazy this all was. How did you get here? How would you get out of here? You found yourself hoping you didn’t get out of here though. This felt like home. Some form of home. As you walked to the carriage you saw a glimpse of the pride on Pelle’s face.

It made you immensely happy.

======

They made you do a ritual in Swedish and you did your best with the limited knowledge of the language you knew. You went to Siv’s house, where she blessed you. You wondered where Dani was. You hoped she was alright. You should have let her become the May Queen. You should have let her win, just so you knew she was alright.

The women left you alone for only a moment where they ushered Pelle into the house with all of the beds where you were. He was still smiling that bright smile as he rushed up to you, hugging you tightly to him.

“You have no idea the amount of honor and pride you have brought to me. I am so very proud of you,” he said, cupping your cheeks. You tried not to get too flustered with your smile in return.

“So I get my picture up on that wall?” you questioned. He nodded pleasantly.

“Yes you will!” He kissed you passionately and you let him, allowing him to dip you a bit. “And you will be allowed to stay here, with the family.”

You didn’t even react. You didn’t feel the need to.

“With you?”

“Yes of course. You will be mine and I will be yours.”

You nodded happily.

“Where is Dani?” you asked.

“She is alright, she’s with the other women preparing. She is also going to stay.” You wanted to laugh of joy with that. “It is time for the final of the ceremonies,” he told you. “You will finally be able to give Christian what you think he deserves, if you wish it.”

He placed an even larger flower crown atop your head.

“And a dress as well, to fit a Queen.”

He gestured to the large flower dress in the room you hadn’t even noticed. He kissed you once more.

“It is time for the final ceremony. I’ll help you put on the dress. Are you ready?” he asked. He looked at you patiently. You nodded.

“Yes, I am.”

[abbatoirablaze]

The Secret

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of knives, secret relationship, mentions of spicy naughty times.

“How many times do I have to tell you, no knives at interviews, Barnes,” you growled, looking to the obscenely calm super soldier. He raised a brow at you as he continued to scratch his back with one of his usual large field knives. You glared at the 6’2” super soldier with all 5’2” of your unbridled rage, “James Buchanan Barnes, you hand over all of your knives to me. NOW!”

Bucky smiled at you, “You know the only ever one to call me by my full christian name was my ma.”

You rolled your eyes at the super soldier and eyed your empty palm, “Now, Barnes!”

Something stirred in the man’s eyes as he watched you. Watched how serious you were in the moment. How you were being so professional while he was purposefully pushing your buttons to see if he could make you bend at work. Yes, you could be frightening when you wanted. As part of the PR team for the Avengers, and the only girl on the team of four, it could often be a bit tougher on you, and lord knows that he’d spent plenty of time with his arms wrapped around your petite, naked frame as you talked through your day after he helped you physically de-stress. But working with the avengers was your job. And you reigning them in on a daily basis was something you loved to do. Sometimes, however, you did get a little annoyed, which was why you were glad that the team moved in rotations. You were never just stuck with one of them.

And today he was lucky enough to be assigned to you, along with Steve and Sam as they reintroduced him to society now that the Wakandans had graciously fully removed his HYDRA programming. Bucky was now an official Avenger and had been on the track to get his military service authenticated and to receive the same benefits as Steve.

And he knew that you wanted to make the best impression possible, which is why you had insisted having both Sam and Steve back him. Far too many people still saw him as the weapon…the asset…the winter soldier. But Bucky was grateful when you didn’t see him like that. Your relationship with him had been a quiet enough moment that started all because you’d made a Hobbit reference which wasn’t lost on him. No, in that quiet moment Bucky knew that he loved you, which is why he’d begun quietly, the past six months doing simple things for you, which finally culminated two months ago in him secretly asking you to be his girlfriend. No one on the team knew other than the two of you.

“I’d be listening to the little sugar plum fairy, Barnes,” Sam chuckled as he played on his phone, “remember what happened to Bruce last week?”

“It wasn’t Bruce,” you said defensively, thinking about how last week The Hulk had a temper tantrum before he was under your watch. You had yet to show up at the tower, having had a ‘morning delight’ as he had called it, from staying over in your apartment the previous night, and Hulk was upset that he wasn’t paired with Natasha, but rather had been moved to another’s group for that week because he had to do some science stuff with Tony, “it was the hulk. I’d never hurt Bruce if I could help it. He’s always so nice to me.”

But on that day when you had strolled in fifteen minutes early to get your morning coffee, you were shook to see that The Hulk had terrorized the main floor when Tony told him. He’d destroyed half of the security offices, the main lobby, and the coffee shop. You went from being on cloud nine to positively livid.

So livid in fact that when The Hulk saw you take off your sunglasses and glare at him, he blanched and tried to make up excuses, saying ‘Tony’s fault.’

Needless to say, you didn’t believe him and smacked the hell out of his chest and arms with your bag. Then you forced him to lean down, and you pulled him by the ear to apologize to every employee that he had scared because of his outburst. After which, he’d disappeared leaving Bruce scuffling around with his metaphorical tail between his legs to do some damage control.

Thankfully though, you were there, and stood by his side, holding his hand through it as he offered to pay for the damage. Tony waved him off, knowing that he could have the damage fixed by the end of the day, and that it was partially his fault anyways for telling Bruce the bad news without you, but he’d made it a point to send someone to go get your coffee so you wouldn’t be exhausted with the press engagements that they were promised to do that day.

“I don’t see what the big deal is about having a knife around,” Bucky shrugged, half paying attention to everything that was going on. You gave a deep sigh, looking at the man you loved, and you noticed his lips turning into a smile, “and anyways doll, you know you don’t have to call me by my full name…you know Bucky is fine…or sergeant…if you’re feeling some type of way.”

“There he is,” Steve chuckled, looking at his best friend with a knowing look, “been a while since I’ve seen ya, punk.”

Bucky chuckled, giving him a knowing grin, since he was fully aware Steve was implying that he was being a flirt, “what can I say…when a dame makes you dizzy, you just have to go with it.”

“Just hand over the knives, Barnes.” You repeated, ignoring his requests by calling him by his last name. He gave you a dopey look as he handed you the one in his hand. You raised your brow at him. Knowing what he wanted to hear you say…he’d had the same request that morning when you woke him up your own special way. You sighed and eyed your palm once more, “all of them, Sergeant.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled. He pulled a second knife from the other side of his belt, and then one from his ankle, and another from the holster under his jacket. When he looked back to you, you gave him a shocked look, “What?”

“The memo I gave each of you said no weapons, whatsoever,” you reply, still in complete shock of the assortment of knives in your hands, “how did you even get these past the metal detectors.”

“Vibranium arm, doll,” he said as though it were the most obvious thing ever, “plus half of my upper chest has vibranium beneath it…that connects my arm to the rest of me.”

“You know what, I don’t care,” You sigh, rubbing one of your temples, “I jus-“

“Steve got to bring his shield,” Bucky said as though it was worse than sneaking knives into the interview, “That’s a weapon.”

“I read the memo,” Steve said with a know-it-all grin, “they wanted me to bring my shield.”

“Thank you for following instructions, Steve,” you sigh, turning on your heel and walking out of the room to get a box for the knives, “when I come back the three of you better be ready!”

“Thanks for following instructions, Steve,” Bucky mocked, looking to his best friend, “did you really have to show off in front of her, punk?”

“Maybe she’d pay attention to you more if you stopped breaking every one of the rules she gives ya, Buck.”

“Naw,” Sam chuckled from his spot on the couch, “Bucky here just breaks the rules so she’ll look at him…come on man, just admit it. I saw you scanning that memo for two full days once you found out she was gonna be with us and not Tommy.”

“Okay, so maybe I did,” Bucky shrugged, “but she won’t talk to me otherwise.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Steve asked.

“Who do you think was the one that came in with her coffee for the prep meeting?” Sam asked Steve, “she mentioned it, and homeboy here slid out of his chair so fast that no one even noticed he left the room til he came back with her favorite drink in his hands. You’re so whipped for her, and she barely acknowledges your existence, Buck.”

“She thought I was an intern. Didn’t even look up from her schedule either,” Bucky sighed as he looked towards the door, where you had disappeared. Then he looked back to his friends, “called me Barry.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I did it to fuck with you?”

“Language,” Steve called softly, “pg words.”

The three men turned around to see you standing at the door with a small box in your hands that had Bucky’s knives.

“I-“

“Maybe next time you won’t run out of the room to get me a coffee when I say I’m tired because the Hulk ruined the coffee shop,” you shrugged, “an intern could have gotten my coffee.”

Bucky paled, not knowing that you’d heard the conversation between him, Steve, and Sam.

“I though-“

“Bucky, just shut up,” you laughed, setting the box of his knives down, “Steve. Sam, can you two give us the room? I think the makeup team needs to see you both anyways.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, “I don’t wear ma-“

“Shut up, Cap…can’t you see robocop is about to get some attention from his girl?”

Steve’s eyes lit up as he connected with what Sam was saying, “oh. OH!”

After the two superheroes left, Bucky stared at you expectantly. You bit your bottom lip, “you know, you’re the one who wanted to be all low key about us dating, James…if you want to tell your friends, I’m not going to tell you that you can’t…I mean, it’d probably be better than us ignoring each other in the tower.”

Bucky smiled, pulling you closer to him by your hips, “You really wouldn’t be mad if I told Sam and Steve?”

“Might as well tell them sooner rather than later,” you shrug, placing a delicate kiss to his lips, “I can only do the walk of shame so many times. Plus Nat may have caught me leaving your room this morning…”

“Alright, I’ll tell them tonight,” he smiled, his hands sliding around to cup your ass, “do you want to spend the night again?”

“Sure,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, “but I have to stop by my place and grab some clothes…”

“You can wear mine,” he offered, biting his lip, “we don’t have anything tomorrow…”

“You don’t think I’ll be swimming too much in your clothes?”

“Oh I’m counting on it,” he laughed, kissing the tip of your nose. He put his head on top of yours as he hummed contentedly, “but I love the way you look in nothing but my shirt.”

“Okay,” you giggled softly, nuzzling into your boyfriends chest. Your arms slid down from around his neck to his middle, “but seriously, how did you get all those knives on you? We got dressed together this morning!”

“I may have snuck them in when you were redoing your hair after I messed it up.” He admitted guiltily. You lightly hit his chest.

“Oh, so you messed up my hair on purpose?”

He smiled, his hands running down your sides as he felt you shiver beneath his touch, “hey you were the one that decided you were going to wake me up with a blowjob.”

“That I did, sergeant,” you giggled, leaning back to his happy steely eyes, “James?”

“Yeah doll?

“Tonight, I wanna be on top.”

“It’s a deal if you give me back one of my knives.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“You’re not scaring another interviewer today,” you say with a shake of your head. You lean up to kiss your boyfriend softly, “just be a good boy for me…just one day, James.”

“Fine…but I’m gonna be naughty all night with you.”

“Deal!” you smile, leaning back in for another kiss.