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yanderecandystore · 4 years

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Rip Tumblr D-do you have any dragon ocs that might kidnap their s/o? Also I know that this is a stupid question but can I call myself Cold anon? ;-;

Hello 🍨 Cold ❄️!! I'm really glad you sent me this request!

The current app that I use for writing is bugging out a lot, so I'm sorry if there are many grammar errors and mistakes here and there.

And uh... Cold? I think I fucked up your ask? I think I got a little too excited and went in a different direction?? If you don't like it I understand, I could always do another one 😳😋

TW/Tags: Guess who is being an emotional ball once again?? Me! Yey! Send help! // look, I'm sorry but, low-key? This is edginess overload lol (medieval bitch times, which by that I mean: dark times with terrible people in it) // deaths // abuse of power // Reader said: eat the rich // non-binary reader just because // cursing // slight plot twist? But, like, bad plot twist // soft dragon boi

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ��˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

You curious little thing - [Yandere!Dragon x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

" Deep in the forest, up in the mountains, legend says that a dragon sleeps deep within the caves. And as the old story goes, gold awaits inside his domain, but only those courageous enough to enter the deep cave and defeat the dragon, would be able to take the creature's treasure.

Many have persuaded the quest of defeating said dragon, yet no one ever came back to tell the story.

And while you sit at the comfort of your small cottage reading about the old tales of the dragon's cave, you can't help but consider the story to be just that, a story. A piece of fiction made to scare the local children away from the mountains, or to enchant those that were easily invested into these types of stories.

It seems like you're one of those that were fascinated by the old tales. Regardless of if you find it true or not. The old tales still hold a mysterious charm that manages to keep you intrigued no matter what age you re-read them.

Tales of the forest spirits protecting their land with mischievous wit, tales of monsters that crawled out of your bed to cause nightmares on the simple minded, tales of mighty dragons who could easily rule the world if they so pleased to.

Yet they didn't. Either because they didn't want to, or maybe they really didn't exist. Who knows, right [Y/N]? Not that you, a simple commoner, would know any better.

Although, from the tales you read, isn't always the common folk the ones to first encounter these things?

It always ends bad, but still.

A commoner would be the first one to be affected by the wrath of such supernatural creatures.

However, as stated before, there is no way of knowing if such a thing is real or not, right? It's been eons since the last time someone even mentioned a dragon's presence in your kingdom, and it's been centuries that the concepts of dragons had fallen into the mythological category.

There hasn't been a single person to mention the beast's names in years. There was no visible way of them being remotely real, right? That sounded absurd.

But of course, like all tales are written, your's seem to have reached the beginning of your own personal adventure when the king mentioned the need of soldiers willing to face the beast inside the cave, who was presumably hibernating throughout this whole time.

And of course, the public had only laughed at this sort of news. You see, your king's authority over the entire land has been dangling by a thin thread. The taxes, the frauds, the imminent wars threatening to occur at any second now, has helped a small portion of people to start questioning if not downright rebelling against him and his reign of terror.

The revolution was rising slowly, yet something needed to push it forward, the straw that broke the camel's back.

"What could it be?" You might be wondering.

How about kidnapping and force recruitment with the help of blackmailing? Specifically targeting the poorest people in the kingdom and taking their family members hostage if they don't comply?

Sounds so evil that you may think it's bullshit right? So inhumane, that the villain of this story might as well be your crazy king, right?

Oh, [Y/N]. You're absolutely right, yet a little bit wrong considering that even if such an evil act sounds absurd, it's absolutely real. It's part of your reality now.

And even if your king is a vile creature of pure hatred and deserves to be fed to the rats, by being a terrible ruler, husband, and father- You were soon about to learn that there are worse, more powerful forces that can easily overpower the insanity of that sad, pathetic evil man.

To your dismay, your family was one of the chosen ones to suffer from this. Because of poverty, you and your father lived in the outskirts of the kingdom. It was perfect for the king and his soldiers, as you and your father lived distant from the main town, if any of you two ever die on the process of going into the beast's cave, or disobey the king's orders, no one would notice if you two were suddenly wiped from the face of the Earth.

And of course, holding hostage just one person was easier than multiple family members. Although your king was absolutely insane if not completely psychotic, you could at least understand how he moved his pieces in this massive game of chess.

I mean, yes, you understand his reasoning. Still doesn't mean he is right.

Soldiers didn't wait too long to show up and try to force your father to go with them. But you didn't take none of that, you wouldn't let your dying father be taken by them.

You screamed, you shout, you let venom spill out of your mouth by each profanity you threw at the soldiers and the king they claimed to serve. It didn't take long before the general noticed that you were one of the rascals forming a rebellion. Well, you didn't really need to be officially part of the revolution, just disagreeing was enough to make the general decide to take you instead of your old father.

You can still remember how he was trying to scream his lungs out, to stop the soldiers somehow.

This was it, right? The day, for you and possibly all these other commoners to die in the name of an asshole. How honoring.

Among you and other miserably unlucky individuals, there were all kinds of different people. From innocent, to criminals. From young to old, from poor to… Well, mildly not as poor. Nobles would never be subjected to this, you know that. All of these individuals were carried away by a carriage. All crammed into one little vehicle, away from the public sight.

After being far enough from the town and now deep within the forest, the soldiers commanded all of you to get out of the carriage as now you'll begin to walk straight to the mountain while carrying… Gold?

"- It's a gift from the king. Survive long enough, and you'll be able to take it with you." The general said, his tone being condescending as ever.

You could…. Technically run away, right now. They haven't really put any restrains in any of you-

"- Over there!" A soldier alerted the general, who looked little surprised by seeing two of your group running away with the gold in hands.

Without hesitation, or even a slight hint of empathy, the general shot both with his crossbow. Their bodies fall flat in the forest ground, with all that gold and jewelry accompanying them. All that gold being wasted and left behind, just like the bodies of the people carrying them.

You felt sick, the need to vomit was surfacing through your stomach. This- This is terrible!? This is so cruel! How can they continue to walk like nothing happened??

God, how did a once prospering kingdom has now fallen in such a low pit?

As you can imagine, the walk was torturous and it felt like it was going forever. Of course, a lot of questions were emerging about the strange situation.

One: how did the king know and was certain that the myth of the dragon was real and that the dragon was awake?

Two: why didn't he call his own army to attend to such issues instead of the common folk being forced to go with his wishes?

Actually, now that you think about it, why are there so few skilled, trained soldiers taking a bunch of people to a cave unprepared?

Carrying a bunch of gold for fucks sake, this stuff is heavy!

If it was truly a gift from the king to your group, then why were you obligated to carry it all the way to the cave? Sounds unreasonable and if anything, absolutely ridiculous. It would only slow your group down, and for what?!

Sounds like a trap to be…. Honest. Wait a minute-

"- Shit!" You whisper to yourself at the sudden realization that you're fucked, which unfortunately, caused a soldier that was near you to hear it.

"- Nothing sir, I just stabbed my foot in a rock." You weren't lying though. This whole walk bullshit your doing has destroyed your low quality sandals, and now you could basically feel the ground stabbing you every time you stept.

The soldier just grunted at you, and as much as you wished to take his sword and shove it up his bum, you couldn't help but go back to your original train of thought before you got interrupted.

You were going straight to death right? You're not supposed to fight a dragon, but rather serve as an offering?? What?!

You can't even speak or alert your fellow companions in any way. The last three people that have spoken without being directed to, were shot in the head.

The realization has sadly come in too late for you to make any plans now, as you forward as your group walk upwards, following the mountain's trail, you find yourself facing not only the entrance to a presumably dangerous cave infested with predators, but also the gates to your inevitable death.

You would now have to think of how to escape the soldiers and their arrows, or how to possibly make your death less painful. Being eaten by a dragon doesn't sound really fun.

When entering the cave you're met with more-

"- Are you fucking kidding me?!" Someone screamed, while easily accepting their death.

You couldn't help but agree with the person. While entering the cave, you're met with a great ravine, going in a spiral fashion deeper into the cave.

In other words, you have not only walked all the way up to a fucking mountain, but you would now need to get down into a creepy cave.

You almost considered asking for some eternal peace before remembering that your father's life was still in line. You just… Don't want to go away like this, you don't want your father to go like this.

And once again your group, that was now a lot shorter due to the amount of deaths along the way, was now following the general once again. Only this time, the soldiers were behind all of you, probably to guarantee no one ran away. Too late for that now anyway, so why even bother?

You didn't realize how you were on the very front of everyone, side by side with the man that was leading you to your doom.

You felt his eyes fall into your form a couple of times, but he never really turned his face to look at you. After a long silence of just a bunch of miserable people stepping closer to a terrible plan that was not well thought-out, he said:

"- You know it already. Right?" His voice was rough and still held the nonchalant tone that was written all over his face. You doubt this man could have ever smiled once in his life.

You almost choked with your own breathing, the nerve of this man! You couldn't help but let out the only thing you have wanted to say this whole time:

"- I hate you." You say as your eyes start to become a little watery. The feeling of desperation was eating you up ever since you entered the carriage, but only now you felt how bad the teeth of despair hurt.

"- I know kid. Me too." He responded, his tone never changed, even while saying that.

You guess he didn't really appreciate his job as much as you thought he did. Yet, you couldn't find in your heart to pity the man, as he was complicit in all of this mess. But I guess, you do hope for this man to find some sort of redemption, either presently or in his after life.

You still think he did a lot of bad things of course, his crimes are probably never gonna be forgiven. But just because of that, it didn't mean he couldn't start to do some good actions now, not for the sake of finding inner forgiveness, but for the sake of others. For the sake of the innocent people being not only met with unfair treatment, but also being ruled by a psychotic tyrant who is a complete imbecile. No wonder the queen and his son were missing for so long, you would probably have run away if you were them too.

When finally coming down, with your feet now hurting like a bitch, you can find some time for yourself to appreciate the beauty of this place.

You know, before you lose your head? To a freaking dragon??

Honestly, you at least hope that the stories you read were true, because holy fuck- Imagine how exhausted your body is from walking for what it feels like an eternity, holding jewelry made with gold, only to find an empty cave?

Then you would be able to go feral kill one or two soldiers before getting your ass beaten. As you don't have enough reason to just do that right now, right?

You expected to be met with disappointment, but what you truly saw while finally getting into the dragon's territory, you were able to not only feel enchanted by the magnitude of these treasure places, but also forget the danger of the situation, as you look around and remember the tales you read.

This is so much better than what you have imagined it to be like. It's… Mesmerising! It 's beautiful! The underground pond, the glowing crystals, the pile of gold, the stolen statues of the great warriors of your kingdom, golden weapons all scattered across the floor, the white feathered looking dragon staring down at you from his nest, that little tea set that is really cute and fragile yet it probably cost way more than your house, your clothes, and all of your furniture all together.

Oh no wait-

"- We came with what you asked for, Artemio." Said the general fast walking his way to be in between you and the beast.

To say you were freaking out would be an understatement. You knew dragons were huge, but you didn't expect it to be so… Huge! You know??

Oh my God, you're dead-

You looked around to see only you, your group of commoners ready to be probably eaten, and the general. And while looking for the soldiers, you noticed them trying to close the opening with a man built gate, created to keep the beast.

But obviously, that gate looks absolutely ridiculous, there is no way this guy couldn't destroy it by simply slapping it. It's quite laughable, yet…

You feel this is not just a coincidence or a bad made joke. You have a feeling they know the gate is essentially useless. It was really old, so, clearly this has been going on from quite some time.

Has… Has your kingdom been doing this for centuries?? Bringing offerings to please the dragon and beg it to sleep for more centuries to come?

"- This is absolute bullshit!" You screamed, not noticing how your heart was racing and your breathing had started to become frantic. You were panicking while coming to terms with the fact that your whole world was collapsing in front of your eyes. Your scream clearly surprised your fellow companions, yet it didn't surprise the dragon or the general.

The dragon had, well, a dragon face, so you have no idea what it was thinking, and the general was still with the same non-expressive face since the beginning of this stupid trip!

"- What?! You have nothing to say?? You brought us here to die, at least say something, you coward!" You were fuming with rage. How can a person like this be so annoying even when he is not saying anything.

He looks at you with an understanding expression, yet you don't think about what it could mean as you reach to one of the many golden weapons spread around across the floor. They were heavy and quite frankly completely useless, yet you still hold into that golden sword like your life depended on it.

And it did, actually.

Have you gone insane or just completely blind with rage and the instinct of survival? You're not sure just yet, but you'll lose your last bit of sanity to stand your ground.

You aren't going down without a fight.

"- Come at me, you big bird!" You yelled, looking kinda epic and kinda goofy at the same time. You probably shouldn't insult a dragon who hasn't decided who he'll first, it may change his appetite.

Before the general could interfere with your foolish behavior, the one and only had spoken:

"- Where exactly is what we had agreed on?" Like in true entitled brat fashion, Artemio asked the general while putting his head in his pawn.

"- We had to eliminate a couple of the troublemakers. In the end some of the gold was left behind in the progress-"

"- No, I mean, where truly is what I asked for? The jewelry is quite frankly ugly, the gold coins don't matter as I already have plenty, and none of these humans look really edible. Or well… Appetising." You could swear a pouty face was appearing in Artemio's face, yet only one thing had taken your attention. That's the reason why they needed so many disposable people? Oh… Wait a minute, did the dragon just call everyone here too ugly to eat?

"- If you can't compromise with your promises, then I think we'll have to change the deal-" Artemio started getting up from his nest, stretching out like a cat.

"- Oh, please no, can't you just-" The general panicked, thinking that the dragon would destroy the village.

"- I want that one." Artemio said. Pointing at you.

"- What?" You looked behind you just in case you were in the way of someone else. No, you weren't.

"- Uhn… What?" Oh look, even the general was confused as you, and well, the entire cast of people that were thrown in this hell hole.

"- Yes, that one holding the spear."

"- Just… That one, or-"

"- Just that one. And I won't get out of the cave for at least a century, I promise!" He sounds and acts like both a child and a cat, preparing himself to pounce on its prey any moment now.

"- ….. Okay then, fair enough. It's your problem now kid." He said, making a motion for all the other captives to follow him. Which they gladly did, because, you know, they aren't the protagonist of the story.

"- What?! You can't leave me here, you bastard!!" You screamed, although subconsciously you already knew his answer.

"- I think I'm just doing that!" He screamed from the other side of the cave, fuckz they really didn't waste no time at all, did they?

Sigh, who are you kidding? If you were one of them, you would have ran away as fast as you could. At least some gave you sympathetic looks before going back to their "freedom".

You heard the heavy gate closing. Well, shit. It's you and him now.

You tried going back into your original threatening stance, but before you could, you saw a glimpse of Artemio coming in at full speed, taking no time to jump at you. This is it [Y/N], send your last prayers to your father and your old life before-

Before he starts licking you... like a dog? What?

He pauses and you tense up, looking up and seeing a dragon powerful enough to destroy villages, looking at you like a precious little gift.

Artemio picks you up and hugs you in an almost bone breaking hug. Confused and frustrated with how the situation was going, you asked:

"- A-Aren't you going to kill me?" Yes, it was a pathetic question, if a dragon isn't killing you, then why ask it to do it??

"- I have been so lonely since the last human that I chose! I usually prefer to have many friends around but all of the other options seemed so boring, you know?" His voice is oddly cheerful and sweet to someone that sees humans as pets, or "friends". So… What is really going on here?

"- I thought you ate people." You said, still frustrated that you were betrayed and lied to through this entire day.

"- Well, I guess I can eat humans-" Says the giant bird-lizard acting like a child trying to lie about doing something wrong- "- But I really don't like doing it, I promise!"

"- I just wanted someone to play with, you know? All the dragons that I know are just so boring and take everything seriously." He huffed in annoyance.

"- Well… Do you-" You started questioning if you really want to to know the answer, but curiosity sure is killing this cat!- "- What happened to the other humans that were here?"

"- Oh, they… Uhn, they died, because of your shirt lifespan and all ya know." He responded.

"- Oh… Then why did the soldiers bring us here saying you were going to eat us?" Why not go full balls in and ask everything, right?

"- It's- Sigh, it's really embarrassing, but I didn't know any other way of how to ask for company down here." He said shyly, which only confirmed your suspicion of this being complete bullshit.

"- And you threaten to burn a whole kingdom just because of that?" You asked.

"- Yes!" He answered with no shame whatsoever. This guy was a dog wearing a dragon costume, you couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"- Sigh, oh my God…"

"- Hey, uhn, what's your name?" Artemio spoke, he thought that he should also ask questions as he wants to be able to enjoy every second with his new pet.

"- It is [Y/N]. And you're Artemio, right?" You can't believe any of this, really. You went from an absolutely terrible life or death situation, to a… Well, you can't even tell what the hell is going on anymore!

"- [Y/N].... [Y/N]! [Y/N], that's such a good name!" The excited dragon repeated your name multiple times before interrupting your peace once again. You can't be mad at him, but-

Come on, you needed some time to accept everything that just went down. You didn't even notice you were on the floor until Artemio was in front of your view again.

"- [Y/N]!" He was so easy to please, that just saying your name was fun to him.

"- Sigh… Hey Artemio." You sighed as there was no way in hell this dragon would leave you to deal with this weird feeling of emptiness arising in your chest.

"- What do you want to do now?" He asked cheerfully, but not completely oblivious to your feelings of being abandoned underground with him by force.

You stayed silent for a second, again, trying to come with terms with this new lifestyle that you were subjected to. You technically could ask Artemio to open the gate, he doesn't seem to have any intention of hurting you. But who knows? He has a different point of view in this whole thing than you do.

Silence was taking over the cave, but not exactly an awkward silence, just… A comforting one.

The water dripped from the ceiling. You felt the ground underneath you shake a little as Artemio followed your "guidance". He decided to lay on his back near you.

He wasn't really doing any self reflection at all, he just wanted to join in with you, yet all he could think is how happy he is to have someone else to spend time with.

You may only see him slightly from the corner of your eyes, yet you still feel a little, strange, by seeing a dragon mimic your ways.

You don't feel nessecerally homesick, but you do miss your father. You absolutely hate the idea of coming back to the kingdom, but… If you could see your father one last time, and probably help him with the gold that is in this place….

Maybe you could even-!.....

"- Artemio."

"- Yes, [Y/N]!*

"- AAH!" He turned himself to meet your face so fast that you whimpered because of his sudden motion.

He was going to check if you were okay, but you stopped him showing that you were fine, just a little spooked.

"- Hey, Artemio-" You said again, as you were still reformulating your question in your head-

"- Do you know how to burn an entire castle?"

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery: Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb.

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue. “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

#my writing #my fics #smut fic #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee smut #gwilym lee imagine #this has been half written in my drafts for much too long now #but im very happy to be able to finally post it!#just got one more thing to write for this advent countdown #which i'll try and knock off after i get back from church #so that its ready to go in the morning #anyway #hope ya'll like this #i might kind of love writing pretty dumb boys #blurb advent 2020

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singeramg · 5 years

Text

How Things Could Change: Part One

Hello everyone! This is a short drabble/ imagine I came up with one night it only going to be about 2 chapters long.

Character: Henry Cavill/ Black! Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Mild Dom/ Sub, mentions of smut but no actual smut.

Summary: You had a terrible day... week and you take it out on your boyfriend.

How things could change: Part 1

You honestly never expected things to go the way they had. You always thought you’d have a little more time before you reached this part of your life. Now here you were. Confused, and scared about what was on the other side of this life. What about Henry? How would he handle this? Both of your lives changed in a moment?

Only time could tell you. You pondered exactly how you got to this....

*Flashback*

You and Henry were arguing, it was very rare when it happened. Often times you could respect what the other was saying with no problem. This time however was different.

It was an occasion where Henry was actually filming fairly close to where you lived. A 2-3 hour drive, but still much closer. The year anniversary of your dating was coming up fast. So were the holidays,This was the point of contention between the two of you.

He actually got along great with your friends and family. Being that he was in town you thought it would be natural to spend the holidays with them. Apparently Henry thought different.

He wanted you two (and Kal) to fly all the way back to London for a week to spend it there instead of where you were. Normally you wouldn’t have a problem with it. This time was different because it didn’t make sense at all. He was being unreasonable at least in your mind

“Henry why don’t we just spend the holiday apart? Since you wanna go home so bad.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked you. You could admit to yourself you were moody as shit and had been for the past week.

Your boss was giving you hell at work, according to him, doing your job well meant you got to do everyone else’s too. You had misplaced one of your favorite necklaces, having no clue of where it was. Plus your hair stylist pushed back your appointment a week after you had already taken your hair down from the braids you had been rocking for awhile. Needless to say you were good and pissed.

All of this on top of being tired, fighting off a cold, culminating in the drive to spend a long weekend with Henry. Now he was being really extra with this change of plans. You had enough.

“It means I’m tired. It’s been a long week. I’m not about to argue with you about you wanting to be here with me or not. Do you.” You tossed your hands down on your thigh hard.

Henry responds rather quickly with “This is not an argument. I’m simply suggesting a change in plans. You never had a problem with this before.”

“That’s because I always go along with it. For the most part I’m am easy going. This time I am simply suggesting that we not.”

Henry had a way of being spoiled when it came to getting what he wanted. At least out of you. You two complement each other in many ways. He liked being the one in control and most of the time you were willing. The dynamic of Dominant and Submissive worked great for you both. Resulting in the best sex of your life. Not today.

“I just think...”

“HENRY! Damn can we not do this please I just told you I’m tired. There you go again. It’s always about what you want!”

Henry was moody today too. His day was plagued with attempting to get the same scene down 5 times because one of the other actors was having an off day. Not the mention another film he was attached to, now wanted to change the script to something else which put him in limbo during contract negotiations. His PR agent had complained it had been too quiet on his social media. All around a shitty day for him. Only bright spot had been knowing you would be up to see him. He had missed you.

It had practically killed him to know you were so close yet far enough he could not hold you.He hadn’t meant to piss you off, yet here you were.

Mad.

Now he was mad because you were lashing out at him. He didn’t even want to be around, afraid of the tongue lashing he might get. He knew your mouth was reckless when you were irritated.

“I don’t know who you think you are talking to little girl. Y/n you need to calm down and talk to me with some respect.”

He uses his authoritative tone. One that normally had you willing to do as he said. You however did not give two fucks right now.

“I ain’t gotta do shit but stay black and die Henry Cavill.”

You said quoting a grandmother long since passed on.

“Y/n you are being a real...” He stops mid sentence. You egg him on for no reason. You couldn’t say why.

“What? Go ahead and say it! A real bitch!”

Henry had never called you that name in the history of being together. He would never disrespect you and he wouldn’t start now. He however would try and rein you back in.

“A brat. A real brat. Is what I was going to say. You need to calm down. I am going to go do my evening workout. I will be back in an hour. I’ll expect you to have pulled yourself together by then. Also expect your punishment when I get back.”

You roll your eyes.

“Go ahead y/n make it worse.”

And with that he leaves you in the hotel room alone. You pick up the small suitcase you brought with you, wait five minutes and then leave right behind him, with a note that says you went home and you will see him next weekend. “Work emergency.”

Honestly you knew you were only making things hard on yourself, making your forthcoming punishment worse, but you knew you were in a bad headspace. It wasn’t going to be fair to subject him to that all weekend. You’d buck-up and take that punishment on the chin (or on your face 😉) like a good girl next weekend.

Leaving out the side door to the hotel. You leave, driving down the road. An hour later Tears now running down your face. Regretting leaving like you have. Henry was intelligent, he would see through that bullshit excuse. You knew he’d fall back into the self-admitted feelings of loneliness, abandonment. One of the reasons he had his dog Kal. You hated yourself for being like that with him, all because you were feeling some type of way. He hadn’t deserved any of it. You both had agreed to this life back with you agreed to be his girlfriend and permanent submissive.

It was raining now, it seemed you had driven yourself right in the middle of a thunderstorm. You were looking for an exit so you could turn around and go back an hour to Henry.

Your phone rang.

The hands-free option allows you to see Henry was calling you. You looked at the buttons on wheel for just a moment to make sure you hit answer, as you did, you looked back up to see a car spinning around on its roof in front of you.

There was no time to stop

You screamed

The last thing you heard as the car made impact was Henry screaming your name...

A/n: Hey y’all! Tell me what you think! :D Part 2 coming soon!

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #black!reader

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anexplanationofunfortunateevents · 4 years

Text

the voting ends today but the fight almost certainly does not

Republicans are filing increasingly desperate and ridiculous lawsuits trying – emphasis on TRYING – to have votes thrown out because they’re big old losers who know they can’t win legitimately.

If you’re the kind of person who can get into the weeds of federal court filings on elections, you probably already have your hair on fire. If you’re not, I don’t recommend picking up the habit right now. It’s just going to make your head swim. These are so incoherent and meritless that even our corrupt federal judiciary and plenty of conservative state judges have frequently brushed them off. I get the sense that Trump’s lawyers are more hoping to win those cases than trying to win them. What they seem to be trying to do with these lawsuits is some mix of the following dishonest things:

depress turnout by making people feel like he can just have their votes thrown out so why bother;

set something, anything, up on track for the Supreme Court, which Trumpworld is (not unreasonably) confident they have sufficiently corrupted;

create a general sense that there’s some authority other than the voters who get to decide this election.

That is what makes me think Trump’s plan to barricade himself in the White House and tweet out a declaration of victory the first moment Fox News reports a good exit poll for him is only mostly about his pathetic need to self-soothe with an autocratic display. He’s also making one last go-for-broke play for the public narrative. He thinks – again, not unreasonably – that if he says he won, then he’ll get a bunch of “Trump Declares Victory” headlines and chyrons, which puts a thumb on the scale in terms of how people frame any resulting developments in their own minds. It’s not a good strategy, it’s more of a hail Mary, but it’s the only potentially helpful option he’s left for himself.

All of this has, once again, summoned the specter of the 2000 election.

We can’t look one day into the future. But we might be able to prepare ourselves for it if we look about twenty years into the past.

There’s kind of a fable that’s built up around the 2000 Florida recount that Republicans were just tougher and savvier and wanted it more, while Democrats clumsily Ned Starked everything up. It’s important to reject that premise as fundamentally abhorrent. In a functioning democracy, campaign strategy is irrelevant after Election Day, because voters are in charge. The Gore campaign, to its credit, was buying into the basic premise of democracy, and had therefore planned their campaign around trying to win an election fair and square. When you punish or condemn people for that, you are ceding ground to the fascists and agreeing to fight on their terms.

The Bush campaign was just fundamentally not operating from the premise of democracy, but from the premise that elections are merely a weak opening bid from the electorate. Before anyone even knew there would be a recount, they had already gamed out a scenario where they could win even if they lost. The contingency they’d planned for, that struck them as most likely, was actually that Gore would win the Electoral College but Bush would win the popular vote. They planned out a whole pressure campaign to create enough of an uproar to give some friendly Republican state legislatures somewhere just enough of an excuse to award electors to Bush even if their constituents had voted for Gore. That wasn’t the scenario they ended up facing, of course. But when you do those kind of war games, you have to think about what your opponent would do, which means the Bush team was ready to hit the ground running with a whole bunch of things they had been expecting Gore’s campaign to do. The core point of whatever they were going to do was always to create an excuse for the nuclear option of having Republican state legislators send Republican electors to install George W. Bush no matter what their voters wanted.

One major difference between then and now is that generation of Republicans knew what they were doing was abnormal and wrong, so they kept it under wraps. Now they’re so high on their own supply that they brag about it to The Atlantic, because they genuinely don’t realize that people will object and try to stop them if they give up the element of surprise.

In 2000, the nuclear option of state legislatures just ignoring their voters to install Bush was not something the Gore campaign could have reasonably foreseen, and even if they did have an in-house psychic to warn them about it, it’s not something they could have realistically stopped except by winning with the biggest margin possible, which they were already trying to do. In 2020, Republicans are basically trying to run the same play, but against Democrats who very much are as prepared as they could possibly be, and by “Democrats,” I mean Democrats at every level. Inside the campaign, Biden campaign senior adviser Ron Klain ran Gore’s recount effort in Florida, and is therefore the last person to have any illusions about the opposition. Their lawyers are fucking beasts. Outside the campaign, Democratic voters have already voted, dragged their friends out to vote, and are amped for whatever fight tomorrow brings.

And, unlike 2000, any formal government processes are going to have to go through House Speaker Nancy D’Alessandro Pelosi, and honey, she is not having it. Remember, Pelosi has already thwarted not one but two Trump regime connivances to steal elections. In 2018, she successfully deterred any attempt to undermine Democrats’ midterm victory. And with her crisp, digestible, precision strike impeachment strategy, she neutered the HUNTERGAZI plot that Trump had every intention of using to sabotage the election this year. (God only knows what other schemes she headed off by making an example out of the pressure campaign against Zelensky. Any foreign leader or official who might have been tempted to cave under similar pressure by Trump got put on notice that trying to appease him quietly was not going to make their lives any less complicated.) No wonder she felt emboldened to tell the Trumpist wing of the Supreme Court to sit their asses down if they know what’s good for them.

What Democrats – and other small-d democrats and progressives – can do, we’re doing. You need to take heart from that, and brace yourself for a couple of stressful weeks.

Unfortunately, we can’t control everything. We can’t control what Trump will do to seize the narrative, and we can’t do much about how the press responds. And again, I’d point back to 2000 as a cautionary tale. Did you know that most of the networks actually called the race right, and they did it pretty fast? It’s true! Early-ish that night, they called Florida for Gore. And, as a subsequent investigation showed, Gore got more votes in Florida! But the ballot count was tighter than it should have been – a lot of registered voters who were likely to have preferred Gore were kicked off the rolls in a racist purge – so they did a reasonable thing and retracted the initial analysis to say the state was too close to call.

I did say most of the networks. I’ll give you one guess which was the outlier. John Ellis – head of the decision desk (ie, the decision of when to call a race for one candidate or the other) at Fox News and first cousin of candidate George Bush and Florida Governor Jeb Bush – somehow knew something about the Florida vote count that the Associated Press didn’t. Late that night, as Gore’s numbers were actually ticking up, Ellis called Florida for Bush. (I might’ve been more circumspect making those implications five years ago, but these people have forcefully rejected the benefit of the doubt.) The other networks, embarrassed by the earlier retraction and exhausted after a long night, leapt after Ellis like lemmings in five minutes flat.

This created a narrative that seamlessly dovetailed with the Bush campaign’s evolving strategy: a Bush win was a fait accompli, so why was sore loser Gore insisting on this recount, wasn’t it taking way too long? Of course, the truth was that nobody actually wins an election before the votes are counted, so if Bush really wanted to get this over with, why was he so resistant to having so many votes counted even once?

Because, of course, while Bush’s top campaign people were out in front of the press loftily insisting that this recount was an irrelevant waste of the country’s time and attention, Republican lawyers were down in Florida doing everything they could to run out the clock. Deadline after deadline loomed and then passed with a bunch of Federalist Society hacks badgering and haggling over every single ballot. Said Federalist Society hacks included John Roberts, Brett Kavanaugh, and Amy Coney Barrett.

So legal correspondents and voting rights advocates, unfortunately, aren’t crazy to have their hair on fire about the Supreme Court once again doing what happened next in 2000: the court ordered all the counts to stop until arguments that it scheduled for the day before an arbitrary deadline. Then they handed down a decision that even they knew was so incoherent and indefensible that they said it wasn’t supposed to be used as precedent in any other case, even though the Supreme Court’s job for over two hundred years had been to hand down rulings that lower courts could use as precedent.

(Seriously. Guys. If Doc Brown ever tosses you the keys to his DeLorean, your mission is to go back to 1999 and run Chief Justice Rehnquist over with it. Then – and this is important – back up and run over him again. Twice. Then you can go buy stock in Google or feed Trump to zombie vampire bats or hit up a Borders or whatever.)

If you’re not really familiar with this story, you’re saying “wait, what? Why did people stand for this bullshit?” FAIR QUESTION. There are a lot of reasons, though no excuses. One reason that’s been previously underrated, I guess, is that Bush hadn’t spent the week before the election running around telling everyone who would listen that “what we’re gonna do is, we’re gonna make ourselves a huge pain in the ass while people are trying to count votes, and then we’re gonna whine about, ‘why is it taking so long to count all these votes?’ Heh heh heh.”

If he had … well, I’m pretty sure at least 538 Floridians would have been alarmed enough to make a better choice than they ultimately did.

I always want to be able to share an action item. This time, I can’t. (Unless you can vote but haven’t yet, in which case, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING ON TUMBLR, GET YOUR ASS IN LINE AND STAY THERE.) I don’t know what the world is going to look like six hours from now. It’s entirely possible that there’s a Biden blowout big enough that Trump just gives up and flees the country. But assume we’re not going to get to take the easy way out of this. Get organized and stay fired up. WE RIDE AT DAWN, unless Florida and/or Texas breaks our way by 10:30, in which case, WE DRINK AT 10:31.

#2020 election #2000 election

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helenaknightt · 4 years

Text

August 2nd, 2018. Flashback; @Inked. 7:45pm.

Attention heavy on the drawing before her, aiming to appease every last detail needed to make this the eye awarding piece she knew it’d be. Her focus so deep, that she would miss the tall and full man that would appear before her, in a nicely tailor suit. It’d be only when he slid a thin piece of paper into her eye sight, overlapping the piece she was so maliciously into. Immediately the recognition of a foreign check, housing a nice flow of zeros; five to be exact; consumed her thoughts. Resulting in a fleeing confusion, as she leaned back, and took in the familiar figure of a man she had only met mere days before. The confusion would be replaced with a knowing intend. Pointed eyes, and arms crossing over her chest, as she leaned back in her chair; the studio bare as it was nearing closing.

“You’re buying me off?” “Consider it a peace offering.” “To stay away from your son?” “My son’s future is ahead of him. One he has worked immediately hard to achieve. A wild oat shouldn’t try and mess with that.” “A wild oat? Are you fucking kidding me?” “That’s all that you are, Helena. And to be fair, your baggage is unreasonable.” “My baggage?” “Baggage, Helena. Two kids,--” He paused, and glanced down at the brunette’s midsection, before bringing his attention back upon her. “Another on the way.” The rigid, unfeeling expression she was putting off when he mentioned her pregnancy would cause a fault in her demeanor, her mouth dipping opening slightly, “How’d--” A devious grin danced upon perfected features, “Anything can be bought, Helena. Information, especially. But right now, you.” Eyes pointing once again, and a defense walling up at his words, “Yeah, I call bullshit. In order to be bought, you gotta be on sale. And I ain’t on sale.” She stated, then shoving the check back towards him, “So, go fuck yourself.” “Such a filthy mouth.” “Yeah, well, you son didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, this mouth do tricks.” Any trace of lightness in the older man’s face disappeared completely, as his tone got rough, and his features harden. “Let me repeat myself, Helena. Anything can be bought, information, especially. I know things about you that you wouldn’t even want your brother to know.” He stated, “Matthew, right?” At the mention of her brother, she could feel her blood start to boil, and a heighten emotional state follow. But before she could say anything back, the older Reed continued. Hand on the check, pushing it back towards her, through and through business like. “I am being much nicer about this than my wife wanted to be, Helena. So, I’d suggest you accept this offer. And if you were smart, you’d use some of that money to do what’s right --” He gave a small pause, eyes flickering back to her midsection, “--for all that’s involved.” Her own eyes traveled down to her stomach, picking up on the hint rather quickly, and spitting back in the only real defense mode she had at that moment. “Brave of you to think it’s your son’s.” She commented, as she looked back up, a fire burning in normally green hues. “Actually, I don’t think it is.” He stated, or at the very least, he wasn’t going to believe it was. “But I want to make something very clear, Helena. Even if it is, it will never be a Reed. It will never be apart of my family, it will never be apart of Jackson. So, for the sake of everyone involved, for the sake of it’s future, it’s wellbeing and emotions, I sincerely hope it’s not.” With a few small steps back, his posture still remaining rather poise, “But like I said, if you were smart, you’d take some of that money and make it right. Two’s truly more then enough for someone as interesting as you, my darling.” A backhanded comment at it’s finest. “Stay away from my son. I’m giving you way nicer of a way out then I should. I would strongly suggest you don’t spit that in my face.” He offered, before then turning his back to her, assuming the business deal was more then finalized. “Have a wonderful night, ms. Knight.”

October 28th, 2020. Present Day; @Pacific Planes. 1:26pm. @jacksonr--d.

Helena sat in her car, in front of a place she hadn’t been to in a good two years. Fond memories involving her doing more sneaking in and out, then actual business. Services having been preformed, but not the ones the company tended to offer up to their customers. Why she was there, she almost didn’t know. Honestly, had it not been for the guilt that was eating at her now, she might have just continued to put this off. Apart of her had convinced herself that this was unselfish, but deep down, she knew it was exactly that; selfish. And all so dangerous. She wasn’t quite sure where else she could go to try and run into her former fling. One she had hardly laid eyes on in two years; the product that reminded her that this had, in fact, happened, was the twenty month old that ran around her house. Most people would claim that Wyatt looked just like her, some would say they saw Matt as well. But hardly anyone said he must look like his father, simply because no one actually knew who that was. But Helena did, and she could see the parts of Jackson in her son. And it’d be those parts that her son would eventually wanna know more about. Apart of her was more then sure she’d go on lying to everyone, including her son. This was until her last client came in. The story behind the tattoo she was getting built guilt up into an otherwise guilt less gut. The selfish part of her almost hoped that Jackson reacted the same way his parents had, so that when she’d tell her son his dad wanted nothing to do with him, she could mean it. As horrible as that would be, at least, it would the truth. There was another part of her that knew that wouldn’t be the case. And that was probably more dangerous then Wyatt possibly hating her later on.

Exiting her car, she’d emerge in an oversized trench coat, and sunglasses to match. Along with a scarf that wrapped around her head. Making rather sure she appear business like, and almost unrecognized to anyone she may not have wanted to run into. Within minutes, she was was making her way into Jackson’s office, a polite older lady ahead of her, “Katie Harris is here for her interview, Mr. Reed.” She’d introduce, before then turning and disappearing; the door shutting behind her. Hands deep in the pocket of her oversized coat, Helena would make her way towards the two chairs before him in a rather slow fashion. Finally removing the sunglasses she wore, “I hope you didn’t need that secretary just yet.” She spoke, as she moved to unwrap the scarf, long dark hair falling at her shoulders, “Or that you mind the dramatics-- guess I always had a flare for roleplay.” It was an attempt at a joke, although at this point, this also seemed rather deceitful. But wasn’t that Helena’s MO at this point? She offered up a soft smile that fell rather short, but still rather warm in its approach. “Hello Jackson.” She greeted, “Looks like we have some time to talk.”

#convo #c:jackson #//my starter game is not good #never has been never will be #but like helena would do some shit like this #also first half has little point to this. but i thought why not anyways. so yeah. xoxo

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jeontaeh · 3 years

Text

〚THIRTY ONE〛

trigger warning : domestic abuse

///

"And I just-" Jungkook began, tears in his brown eyes. "After everything we've been through, all the ups and downs- for you t-to... lie to me like that and- and betray my trust, I j-just c-can't believe it," Jungkook sniffled, taking a tissue and pressing it to the inner corner of his eye.

"Stop being so over dramatic, oh my god! I slept with her ONCE! It was ages ago!" Jimin snapped.

"But why didn't you tell me! I mean, you've always hated Eka!" Jungkook snapped at Jimin, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well. You were being a little butt to me back then, remember? You moved in with V and I was all alone one night. I randomly began messaging her and then... y'know.... one thing led to another, and-" Jimin said, and Jungkook grimaced.

"I didn't expect that from you, but damn, man. Get it." Jungkook said, putting his fist forward. Jimin fist bumped him. "I had a long ass conversation with her on the train. She told me everything that happened that night when I was drunk as hell. Taehyung didn't... do anything inappropriate." Jungkook said, sighing in relief.

"Still kind of sucks. To even have that apprehension shows that you don't trust him fully. Plus, how can you just go with what Eka says?" Jimin asked, and Jungkook gulped.

"Well, um-" Jungkook began, and then scratched the back of his neck. "I... I trust him?" Jungkook stammered, and then shrugged. "He did punch that guy who tried pulling shit on me."

"Fair enough," Jimin said. "Are you gonna go talk to him?"

"Yeah. I'll go right now, in fact." Jungkook said, and Jimin hummed and sat down on his bed. "By the way, what's going on with you and Rose?"

"Nothing," Jimin said, blushing. "We just talked that night, nothing more."

"Mhm. Sure thing." Jungkook winked, and then giggled and walked out of his dorm.

Meanwhile, Taehyung was in his dorm, sitting on his bed while facing Eka, who was sitting on the other bed. She rose her eyebrow at him and then sighed. "I don't know why you're so fucking silent. I kind of saved your football career,"

"Yeah but you told Jungkook way more than necessary," Taehyung snapped, and then looked at Eka. "Why're you getting involved in my business?"

"Excuse me?? If I didn't get involved in your business, Jungkook would've told the entire school that you raped him!" Eka said sharply. "So don't you dare be angry at me."

"Still, Eka. I was high as fuck that night, and I knew he was drunk! He didn't need to know how I felt about him!" Taehyung said. "I-I was just spewing bullshit that night, anyone. Now he's going to think I want him to be my boyfriend or something," Taehyung mumbled.

"Don't you?" Eka asked.

"No! I'm- I'm not gay, Eka. For fuck's sake- will you just- just shut the fuck up." Taehyung grumbled, covering his face with his hands.

"Literally didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did! Couldn't you have just told him I didn't take advantage of him- instead of telling him I'm in love with him!" Taehyung snapped, and Eka sighed, rolling her eyes.

"God, shut up. I helped you out, why the fuck are you still being so-"

"Just get up and get out of my room," Taehyung said, and Eka frowned. "I could still tell everyone you're into fucking dudes by the way. I still have that on you, so I don't know where you're getting this confidence from," Eka said, standing up.

Taehyung looked at her. For some reason, the thought of Eka knowing sent his insides into a whirlwind of anxiety, so he threw out any words that left his mouth. "As if anyone's going to believe you anyway. You always start rumors, Eka. You're a wannabe high school queen socialite who didn't get enough attention as a child."

Eka frowned. "Okay, woah. What the fuck did I even do to you? I'm being unreasonably nice to you about this situation-"

"Unreasonably nice? You're being a fucking bitch, as usual!" Taehyung snapped, standing up. Both of them didn't see the door of Taehyung's dorm room opening. "Do you ever wonder why you have no friends? And why no one likes you? Because you're a bitch, Eka. You always have been and you always will be-"

"Woah," Jungkook let out, rushing over to stand in front of Taehyung. "Hey, don't say that," Jungkook said to Taehyung. He saw Eka looking lost for words, a little upset.

"I was-" Eka began, and then gulped. "I was just trying to be nice for once. Why're you getting so mad?" Eka asked, and Jungkook frowned at Taehyung.

"Because I don't need people like you knowing this shit about me, got it? Just- fuck off." Taehyung snarked, sitting down on his bed.

Eka looked at Taehyung for a few seconds, and then grabbed her bag and headed for the door. "Eka-" Jungkook called out, but she walked out of Taehyung's dorm room and slammed the door shut. Jungkook looked at Taehyung, eyebrows furrowed.

"That was really mean! Why'd you say all that?" Jungkook asked, and Taehyung sighed.

"She's not going to do anything about it. Plus, I don't need her knowing so much about me, it- it's fucking weird." Taehyung grumbled, and Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't like how mean Taehyung was sometimes.

Taehyung looked at Jungkook and scoffed. "Why're you here anyway? Don't you have some other masterplan to make where you make me feel like utter shit?"

Jungkook looked at his feet. "Not yet..." Jungkook said in a small voice and then felt Taehyung grab him and pull him closer until he was standing between Taehyung's legs, while Taehyung was sitting down on the bed, looking up at him.

"Why'd you do that, Kookie?" Taehyung asked, voice softer than earlier.

"It shouldn't bother you anyway. It's not like you like me." Jungkook mumbled and saw Taehyung open his mouth to say something, but then close it. Jungkook felt Taehyung's arms circle his waist. "You just- y-you've hurt me so many times. I just wanted to make you feel like how I did."

"Hurt you?" Taehyung asked, and Jungkook nodded, looking at him all puffy cheeked. "That time at the arcade... and that time when you were mean to me.... and that other time you were mean to me.... and then when Jimin found out.... and then when you kissed me but asked Eka out the next day.... or when you-"

"I got it." Taehyung let out airily, and Jungkook saw him looking away. "Shouldn't have hurt you so many times."

"Yeah," Jungkook said, and then paused for a bit, and kicked Taehyung's foot lightly. "Meanie."

Taehyung smiled at that, and then pulled Jungkook onto his lap, looking at the boy fondly. Jungkook brushed Taehyung's grey hairs out of his face. "Eka told me what you said to me that night... I'm sorry for assuming the worst, I just- I couldn't help it-"

"It's alright," Taehyung whispered. "But I'd never hurt you like that, you know that, right?"

"Yes," Jungkook said and kissed Taehyung's forehead. Taehyung blushed a little, and so did Jungkook. "Tell me what's going on, Taehyungie. I know this isn't just about having sex anymore."

Taehyung's breath hitched. "Kookie.." Taehyung trailed. "I'm-" He began, and then gulped. "I'm straight, you know that-"

Jungkook pressed their lips together, and Taehyung hummed into the kiss, feeling enlightened with the touch of Jungkook's lips against him. Jungkook pulled away. Taehyung blinked.

"I'm like, 98% straight, you know that..." Taehyung said again, and Jungkook giggled.

"I'm breaking you down," Jungkook whispered, and Taehyung sighed. Jungkook cupped his face. "I don't care, Tae. You can take all the time you need figuring it out. But stop lying to yourself about how you feel about me."

Taehyung gulped. He looked up at Jungkook. "How do.. how do you feel about me?" Taehyung asked, and Jungkook felt his heart gallop while looking into Taehyung's eyes.

Jungkook got up from Taehyung's lap, walking a few steps away. "I'll tell you, but it might ruin everything," Jungkook said, biting his lip/

"Aw, tell meeeee-" Taehyung whined, and Jungkook smiled.

He felt his heart racing rapidly. "Y-you remember that night- um- the night of the a-art exhibition?" Jungkook stammered, and Taehyung stood up to walk over to him. Jungkook suddenly felt two hands on his waist, and then looked up and saw Taehyung looking down at him, hair tied by his bandana.

"Yeah?" Taehyung asked in his deep voice, and Jungkook gulped. "D-don't g-get mad at me, please." Jungkook squeaked, and Taehyung shook his head.

"I won't," Taehyung whispered, and Jungkook looked hesitant, but nonetheless, looked at Taehyung.

"I sort of... started having a crush on you..." Jungkook trailed, and then instantly looked away, deciding he didn't want to see Taehyung's expression. "I-I sort of... sort of started w-wanting us to be more than just- than just fuckbuddies."

"T-this was since the night of the art exhibition?" Taehyung let out, and Jungkook gulped.

"Yes. I know! I know it's super weird. But-" Jungkook began, but then sighed. "I j-just love all the conversations we had and I love spending time with you. I-" Jungkook looked at him. "I like you. I like you a lot, Taehyung. And-"

Taehyung pressed their lips together.

Jungkook let out a mewl of surprise, hands grabbing Taehyung's collar. Jungkook felt himself get picked up and placed onto the wooden desk, Taehyung's lips all over his own.

"Fuck," Taehyung said pulling away. He smiled. "You've had feelings for me since then??"

"Y-yeah." Jungkook squeaked, feeling a sigh of relief because Taehyung didn't seem angry. Taehyung chuckled, kissing Jungkook's cheeks.

"Oh, I'm- I'm sorry for all the times I kept saying we'd be nothing more than fuckbuddies, damn, I said that quite a lot," Taehyung mumbled, and Jungkook hummed.

"It's okay," Jungkook said, and then brought his hand down Taehyung's face. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad about this? You- you like me? That's really- I don't know. I enjoy that." Taehyung said, and then kissed him again. Jungkook giggled into the kiss, and then pulled away.

He kissed Taehyung's cheek. "How long have you had feelings for me?"

Taehyung paused. He looked at Jungkook with a small smile, and Jungkook waited for a few seconds for the answer. The silence went on for too long, and Jungkook rose his eyebrow. Taehyung hummed.

"Well," Taehyung began, and then cleared his throat. "Never. I-I- um- I don't have feelings for you. But-" Taehyung said, and then began kissing Jungkook again.

Jungkook's eyes widened, and he pushed Taehyung off of him. "Oh," Jungkook said, then jumped off the desk, eyes still wide, heart still pounding, stomach in a twist.

"Don't- don't get mad, Jungkook. I just-"

"No no no, I'm not- I'm not mad," Jungkook let out, looking away, mouth open in shock. "I j-just thought you-you did, because-"

"I mean." Taehyung began, scratching his head. "W-why did you think that?"

"Because!" Jungkook snapped, turning around, enraged. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "You-you said all that shit to me when you were high. About how overwhelmed you feel when you look at me. And-and I don't know- you seem happy when we spend time together! And you keep wanting me back every time I go away!" Jungkook cried, and then Taehyung blinked.

"Oh," Taehyung said. "Oh, jeez, well, then I guess I do like you!"

"What?" Jungkook asked, and Taehyung sighed. He closed his eyes, putting his hands against his face.

"Look, Kook, I'm not good at this. I've never had feelings for anyone. I don't know if this is how it's supposed to feel like." Taehyung said, and then looked at Jungkook. The boy looked like he was going to cry. Taehyung rushed to him, grabbing his waist. "Don't cry! Don't cry, baby. I just- I want you! I want you really badly, and I do want to spend all my time with you-"

"T-then what!" Jungkook snapped, cheeks red and eyes watery, looking way too cute. Taehyung sighed. "I just... I want to do all of that but I don't wanna.... like, do it like I'm gay or something."

Jungkook took a deep breath. "Taehyung you're not making any sense-"

"I'm not gay. I'm not bisexual. I'm straight." Taehyung confirmed, and Jungkook didn't have the energy to roll his eyes. "And I want you to be my... I don't know the word for it..... like my girlfriend but you're not a girl."

"A boyfriend!?" Jungkook snapped, and Taehyung gulped.

"Yeah, but see, no- because- well, I'm straight. And also- I don't want a boyfriend. Nor a girlfriend. I like you. A lot. Do I want to date you? Yes. No. I don't know. Maybe. I mean, yes. Of course, you're amazing. But like, also, no. Because-" Taehyung began yabbering, and Jungkook cupped his face with his hands.

"Taehyung, y-you're confused. And you're unsure. A-and that's fine." Jungkook whispered, and Taehyung gulped, eyes big. "We can take it as slow as you want. We don't have to tell anyone, not anyone in the world- except Jimin." Jungkook said the last part quickly.

"I don't care about the gay/straight thing. Just tell me this." Jungkook said, and then looked into his eyes, their proximity quite close. "Do you like me?"

Taehyung gulped. Jungkook blinked, and Taehyung looked into his pretty eyes. "Does your heart start fluttering when you think of me? Do you get butterflies in your stomach when you look at me? Do you want me more than anyone else?" Jungkook asked softly.

Taehyung felt as if he was caught in a trance while looking at Jungkook. "Yes." Taehyung let out, unable to stop the smile reaching his face.

"Then, good," Jungkook said, smiling a little. "That's all I need," Jungkook whispered, and then pressed their lips together.

Taehyung held Jungkook's waist tightly while kissing him, and felt his heart galloping. Jungkook smiled into the kiss, felt himself get picked up and placed onto the bed. Jungkook looked up at Taehyung and smiled.

"You're mine now." Jungkook giggled, and Taehyung smiled fondly.

"I've always been yours," Taehyung whispered, and they pressed their lips together again.

///

Taehyung kicked a big ball towards the tree and then began squealing in joy. He saw his mother standing behind him and giggled at her. "Look mommy- it hit the tree!!"

"Good job, baby." His mother smiled widely, kissing his cheek. Taehyung saw her loving eyes and then looked behind her and gasped.

"Mommy, can I go play with my friends?" Taehyung asked, and his mother nodded, ruffling his hair.

Taehyung ran up to the playground, seeing curly hair. "Michi!" Taehyung said loudly and saw the big-eyed boy turn around. "TaeTae!!" The little boy squealed, and Taehyung rushed over and hugged him tightly, both falling onto the ground.

Both began rolling around in the grass. "Why didn't you come to my party?" Michi asked, pouting "It was lots of fun. We all danced."

Taehyung frowned a little, sitting down beside him. "My mommy didn't let me go," Taehyung said, and Michi booped Taehyung's nose.

"It's okay!! You know what my mommy said? She told me that you and I are like baby Romo and Julett." Michi said.

"Who's Romo and Julett?" Taehyung squeaked, and Michi shrugged. Michi grabbed Taehyung's soft hand.

"I dunno. But I know they give each other kissies. On the-" Michi began and pointed at his lips. Taehyung gasped, eyes wide. Scandalous.

"Kissies on the what??" Taehyung asked like it was the craziest thing he'd ever heard. Michi giggled. "Like this." Michi said, and then leaned over and kissed Taehyung on the lips.

Taehyung blushed and clapped his hands together. "My turn!" Taehyung said, and then kissed Michi back.

"T-Taehyung-" A voice came, and Taehyung turned to see his mother rushing over to him. "Come on, let's go now." She said hastily, grabbing Taehyung's hand and tugging him along.

"Bye bye, Michi." Taehyung said, waving his hand. Michi waved back, sad to see Taehyung go.

"Mommy what's wrong?" Taehyung asked, and then his mommy stopped and leaned down to look at him. She looked scared. Taehyung didn't know why.

"I-I told you not to do that, right? Why did you do that? I told you to only do it with girls-" his mother stammered, and Taehyung wanted to say something, but then suddenly saw his father right behind his mother.

"Daddy..." Taehyung trailed, and then Taehyung saw his mother stand up to look at him, eyes wide.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't know why he-" Seoyeon said lightly, and Taehyung's father grabbed her by the arm.

"We'll talk when we get home." He said roughly. Seoyeon grabbed Taehyung by his hand, and they all walked home in silence.

One hour later, Taehyung was sitting in his bedroom, playing with a dinosaur stuffed toy he owned. His tv was playing very loudly, his mother had left it like that before she went away. Taehyung got annoyed and clicked the tv off after she left.

He could hear his mother crying from upstairs. He heard a loud sound of hitting, and tensed himself, hugging his dino toy.

"I swear to fucking god, Seoyeon- if you raise him like that I'll throw you out of my goddamn house!" Taehyung heard his father shout.

"I-I-I'm sorry- I-I d-didn't know-" He heard his mother cry. And he hated it. Hated how daddy made mommy cry all the time.

Sometime later, his mommy walked into his room. Taehyung was crying. She sat down beside him, pulling him onto her lap, and began stroking his hair, kissing his forehead lightly.

"It's okay baby, don't cry."

"W-why does he hit you, mommy?" Taehyung asked, crying into her chest.

Taehyung's mother didn't say anything, just continued patting him to make him stop crying. "Don't worry about it, little Taehyung. You remember what you told me, right?" She asked softly, and Taehyung saw bandages on her face.

"T-that when I'm older I-I-I'll get a house and you can stay with me, mommy. No daddy." Taehyung squeaked, and his mother smiled softly.

"Yes. But p-please, honey bear," She whispered, looking at him. "I t-told you, remember? Kissing or hugging or liking boys is bad. D-don't do it from next time." She said softly, and Taehyung nodded.

"Sorry mommy. I-I won't do it again if it means daddy won't bully you." Taehyung whispered, and got a kiss on the forehead.

"I-I'm sorry," She whispered into his hair, and Taehyung felt himself going off to sleep in her arms.

Years and years later, when Taehyung was 13, he got suspended from his middle school.

"I-I'm s-sorry-" Taehyung heard a light voice say. "Pl-please-"

"Shut the fuck up, you fag." Taehyung snarked at the curly haired boy and heard his friends laugh beside him. Michi was on the floor, had gotten punched in the stomach.

The boy looked at Taehyung, tears in his eyes. Taehyung turned around, and he and his friends walked away.

"Wasn't he your best friend when you were kids?"

"Yeah, whatever," Taehyung grumbled and saw his friends laugh and walk in front of him. Taehyung turned around and saw Michi on the floor still, calling his mother on the phone and pleading her to pick him up quickly.

Taehyung's breath hitched, but he turned around and walked away.

When he'd reach home later, he found his father sitting on the couch. "You got suspended for beating a kid up?" His father asked.

Taehyung gulped. "He was a fag, anyway," Taehyung mumbled.

He heard his father laugh. "Oh, you're a young boy. It's fine. You're going to boarding school next month anyway,"

"Yeah," Taehyung said, and then walked into his bedroom, closed the door behind him, and sat on his bed, crying for the rest of the night.

https://jeontaeh.tumblr.com/post/647264515702046720/thirty-two

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beautiful-rebellious-sunflower · 7 years

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Hi! So I'm trying to convince a friend who isn't really a fan of Abby that she's a precious cinnamon roll. What evidence/arguments/gentle nudging would help to show them the light? :)

You know what? I started writing out a whole long essay of feels about Abby Griffin and why I love her so much, but I realised anything like that was gonna be WAY too long! So here it is condensed into handy bullet pointed list form!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ DISCLAIMER

Someone not liking Abby as a character is fine! I don’t expect my fave to be everyone’s fave, and sometimes you get a character who just rubs you the wrong way and you might not even be able to explain why. But, since I was asked, these are some of the reasons *I* love Abby Griffin, and some responses to common criticisms of her (many of which I genuinely think are deeply unfair and based on ridiculously inaccurate interpretations of her character)

Onwards!

she’s a talented Doctor and Scientist

she designed the wristbands! the whole ‘sending the 100 to the ground’ thing was LITERALLY HER IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE THERE WOULD BE NO SHOW without Abby Griffin

“the most respected person in this camp"

when Clarke destroys Mount Weather she immediately wants to use all that tech not for killing Grounders like Pike does, but for opening a hospital and healing Grounders and Sky people alike god whatever happened to THAT storyline btw??

saves Nyko’s life

saves Raven’s life

saves Lincoln’s life with an amazing smart, brave moment of sheer shocklashing badassery, and by doing so…

becomes the first person EVER to bring back a Reaper!!! Thus enabling Clarke to win an alliance with the Grounders and presumably becoming a legend with them because she LITERALLY BROUGHT A DUDE BACK FROM THE DEAD YO INDRA DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT

saves Finn’s life long-distance over the radio (look we all have our faults but Clarke, Raven and Octavia are equally to blame for this one so no foul to Abby)

saves Marcus’ life under the rubble of Tondc

saves Roan’s life when he’s shot

…literally are you getting my point half the people in the show would be dead if it it weren’t for her

keeps Ontari alive (and thus helps Clarke save the world) by CRACKING OPEN HER CHEST AND MANUALLY PUMPING HER HEART look even Murphy was impressed by that

she’s super badass and incredibly brave even without resorting to violence and killing like other characters

willing to go to jail and the airlock (!!!) multiple times to try and save the people due to die in the Culling

willing to fire herself at the Earth in an ancient rocket cobbled together by Raven just for the chance that she can prove the kids are alive

goes to meet Indra, a heavily armed enemy warrior leader, alone and unarmed, and doesn’t back down even with a knife held to her throat

climbs into the rubble of Tondc to save people even though she herself was safely out of it

saves Raven’s life (again!) by taking the chip when ALIE makes her cut her wrists

saves Jackson and Miller’s lives on Science Island by distracting a drone

she’s a devoted, loving and good mother (FUCK YOU I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL)

kind of a surrogate mom to Jackson who lost his mom at a young age

clearly wants to adopt both Raven and Murphy too

willing to move heaven and earth to find Clarke and protect her

stands up to Jaha to back Clarke in season two even as he tries to have her deposed and thrown into the stockade because…

“I have faith too. In my daughter.”

also in season two, defers to Clarke and gives up any chance of finding survivors from the other Ark stations to focus on rescuing the kids in Mount Weather

understands why Clarke left post-season two and even though it’s clearly hurting her she doesn’t try and drag her back before ‘she wants to be found’

look I don’t want to go too far on this because some of the time Abby DOES show poor judgement and go overboard in trying to protect Clarke?? I can’t deny that but honestly if the worst u can say about Abby Griffin is that she loves her daughter too much then you’re reaching pretty badly tbh, considering other characters have list of faults that literally include ‘torture’ and ‘genocide’

she’s a woman of extraordinary integrity and deeply held ethics, but also pragmatic and not stupid about it

“You don’t have to justify yourself.I broke the rules and I accept the consequences”

she ALWAYS does what she thinks is right…but she also NEVER shies away from the consequences

horrified by what Clarke does in letting Tondc be bombed…but keeps the secret anyway because she knows it’s necessary

deeply hurt by Clarke’s coup in S2 and shocked at the change in her daughter…but steps aside for her anyway to avoid more bloodshed from an actual fight

haunted and grief stricken by her beloved husband’s death…but was the one to turn him in, because she believed that risking the life of one person she loved couldn’t outweigh the risk of many more lives being lost by his actions

she’s the kindest, sweetest darling

befriends Raven, sees potential in her and treats her as an equal and an ally

besties with Purest Cinnamon Roll Jackson

sees the potential in John Murphy

respects and trusts Lincoln as an advisor when she’s Chancellor

constantly torn between worry and pride for her wayward daughter but would do anything to keep her safe

forgives Marcus Kane for all the bullshit he put her through and ends up being his biggest supporter and ally and helping him to become a better man

constantly trying to heal everyone and save everyone even though she knows she can’t

constantly trying to find solutions that don’t involve violence and death

wracked with guilt for things she couldn’t have forseen and couldn’t change, worries that she isn’t a good person and doesn’t deserve to survive

led Arkadia in three months of real peace, turning a ramshackle camp into a growing, flourishing home even while dealing with her own personal grief over Clarke being missing

doesn’t get enough sleep

her smile is like the sun coming out from behind the clouds

Abby Griffin in conclusion

she’s incredibly smart

she’s extraordinarily courageous

she’s self-sacrificing

she’s kind and compassionate

she’s passionately driven and principled

she’s willing to get her own hands dirty

she takes care of everyone even though no-one ever takes care of her

she has to try and be a leader AND a doctor AND a mother all at once and even though it means she’s constantly overworked and has to make impossible choices, she willingly bears the burden of those responsibilities

BONUS ROUND UNDER THE CUT!!! Common reasons people give for disliking Abby, and my response to them! :D

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ DISCLAIMER THE SECOND

Again, this is all just my opinion, and I don’t want to start an argument with anyone who disagrees. The ask here was ‘what evidence/arguments would I use’ so I thought a useful thing would be to lay out why the common arguments of those who don’t like Abby as a character do not sway me personally. My intention is to counter these criticisms with my own thoughts on the subject, not invalidate them.

Onwards!

“She’s an overbearing mother who doesn’t believe in Clarke’s leadership and competency even though it’s been proven again and again. She constantly tries to protect her when Clarke can clearly take care of herself and is trying to Get Shit Done without her mom’s interference.”

This is probably the most common one, and honestly I’m afraid I’m gonna have to repeat myself from my point above - if the worst thing you can say about Abby Griffin is that she loves her daughter too much…assuming that most people who make this argument love Clarke too, it seems like a bizarre reason to dislike Abby?

It also strikes me as oddly lacking in context. Overbearing parents can suck, sure, but…Abby Griffin isn’t getting mad about her daughter staying out late partying with friends or getting poor exam results. Abby Griffin is a mother desperately trying to prevent her only child from being brutally killed, or turning into a cold, ruthless killing machine herself, or else just ending up so broken and emotionally scarred that she loses her forever in another way.

These are not unreasonable concerns. These are things that happen to characters on this show!

Abby doesn’t want to lose her daughter. She doesn’t want her daughter to be hurt. She doesn’t want her daughter to have to make the terrible choices and unbearable sacrifices that a leader in Clarke’s position is so often called upon to do. And you know what? In her position I wouldn’t want that for MY daughter either! Is Abby selfish to want to spare her daughter these burdens? Maybe. Is she naive to think she can continue to protect Clarke under these circumstances? Almost certainly. But I can’t find it in my heart to blame her for trying.

Another thing I would really like to point out here that I think is often shamefully overlooked is that this is a flaw of Abby’s that improves with time. Yes, Abby does often question Clarke’s authority in season two and she is stubborn and open in her dismay at the change in her daughter that the Ground has wrought. But as time goes by Abby consistently backs Clarke and defers to her time and time again - standing up for her against Jaha, prioritizing her friends in Mount Weather above finding other Ark survivors, keeping the secret of the Tondc bombing…by the time season two ends Abby has come to terms with the person Clarke has become, and throughout season three and four she is nothing but a supportive and staunch ally to Clarke’s plans.

When they disagree on something Abby will always speak her mind, and when Clarke is in danger Abby will always try to protect her…just as any mother would, and as any of Clarke’s friends would. But if there’s one thing Abby Griffin has, it’s unwavering love and faith in her daughter. Clarke is clearly the person Abby cares most for in the world, and their relationship is one of the most important in the show - whether they’re at odds or working together, that relationship always makes both Clarke and Abby more interesting and more sympathetic to me. It feels like a genuine shame to me that some people find it a cause for resentment towards either of these characters instead.

“She’s reckless and doesn’t think through the consequences of her actions. She gave Finn a gun and he slaughtered a Grounder village! She smashed that machine in season four just to save Clarke when the entire human race was at stake!”

Actually I somewhat agree with this one! One of Abby’s faults throughout the show is that she often acts impulsively and makes unilateral decisions to do what she believes is right. Sometimes she turns out to be right…sometimes not. Either way this is something that makes me like Abby more as a character - she’s fallible and human! She makes mistakes! She’s so single minded about protecting her daughter that it can blind her to other concerns!

It makes her a much more interesting character, in my opinion, than an Abby Griffin who is unequivocally Right All The Time. As something of a moral compass for the show, it would be very easy for her to be boring, and having that stubborn, reckless streak makes her far more fun to watch. Give me morphine-stealing, black-market-dealing, do-whatever-it-takes-and-lie-through-your-teeth-to-get-what-you-want Slytherin Abby Griffin any day!

Because…at the end of the day, everything Abby does, good and bad, is done out of love for her daughter, and responsibility to her people. She’s not always right, but she is always - to paraphrase Jake Griffin - ‘doing the best she can.’ And I can’t help but love her for that, and root for her to succeed.

“She slapped Raven that one time.”

Yeah, that was a dick move. What, you expected something different? Just because I love Abby doesn’t mean I have to blindly agree with everything she does! As it happens, I share the opinion of a lot of people who think the writing for the show was at fault in this instance - I don’t think that slap was AT ALL in character for Abby to do, but that’s a discussion for another time. Assuming it IS taken as canon…yeah it was a total dick move. I hope (and genuinely believe) that Abby apologised to Raven afterwards.

But again, I can’t help but think…if the worst charge you can level against Abby Griffin is ‘she slapped someone who didn’t deserve it one time’ then in the context of THIS show that speaks pretty well of Abby, to be honest. Of course it’s absurd to argue that any bad thing Abby does is just fine because other people have done worse things but…just…it’s not unreasonable to get a little perspective here, maybe? This one instance of Abby doing something admittedly unpleasant and unjustified to Raven in a moment of stress is nowhere near enough to cancel out the genuine and loving friendship the two share for the rest of the show, and seems like a pretty thin reason to Hate Abby Forever, especially considering all the awful things literally every other character in the show has done at one point or another except for my precious son Jackson

So although I agree in principle, a lot of the time when people trot out this particular argument it feels a lot to me like playing on everyone’s love of Raven to try and get them to hate Abby…which leaves a nasty ‘pitting women against each other’ taste in my mouth, to be honest.

So yeah, I don’t like this scene. I don’t like what Abby does in this scene. I won’t make apologies for her behavior here. But what I like least of all is anyone who tries to use this scene as some kind of unforgivable indictment of Abby’s character, when it is quite clearly exceptional and uncharacteristic behavior for her; something never seen before or since.

It was a dick move though.

“She killed her husband!”

*sighhhhhh*

I don’t hear this one a lot these days, but I really don’t know why it ever comes up at all as a reason to hate Abby? I mean, I can’t believe I have to spell this out for people because it is all explicitly laid out for you on screen in the show, but here in handy list form:

Abby clearly and demonstrably loved Jake Griffin, was terrified that he might be killed for exposing secret information and begged him not to do it

when he refused to back down, Abby confided in Jaha about his plans, because she genuinely believed that Jake was going to doom everyone on the Ark by going public, including Clarke

Abby and Jake were both personal friends with Jaha, and Abby believed that he would not execute Jake - a reasonable thing to think, as Jake had not yet committed a crime and Jaha HAD the power of pardon and was more than willing to use it on Abby when she later broke the law to save HIS life (hey fuck you Thelonius by the way)

when this did not happen and Jake was executed anyway, Abby was clearly and demonstrably horrified and grief stricken

even though Jake Griffin’s death was neither her intention nor her fault, she still obviously bears terrible guilt for her role in it and will have to live with the pain of losing the man she loved every day for the rest of her life

…seriously, this is all there on screen. Why some people persist in portraying Abby as some kind of cackling murderess who happily shoved her husband out of an airlock is beyond me. She trusted the wrong person and made a terrible mistake; an attempt to save lives that ended up losing the life of someone she loved deeply. It was a tragedy for everyone involved, born of the choices made by several different people all acting out of the best of intentions. Abby never came across as anything but deeply sympathetic to me when I watched this storyline play out on screen, and I’m just baffled that anyone feels otherwise? What show were you watching?

“She’s old and boring.”

Hey: fuck you!

Ok so not a lot of people straight up come out and say this, but a lot of the hate towards Abby Griffin really does seem to be because she has the audacity to be a woman over forty on TV. If you hate Abby because she displays characteristics or acts in a way that you would be swooning over if given to a sexy young man in his 20s, then the problem is a whole lot of socially ingrained ageism and misogyny, and there’s not a lot I can do to persuade people out of that.

~**~IN CONCLUSION~**~

A lot of people have different reasons for not liking Abby Griffin as a character, just as is the case for any character in any work of fiction. Some of them I can understand, even if I don’t personally agree with them. Some of them I think are both unfair and unreasonable. However, at the end of the day, all I can do is try and explain my own reasons for Abby being my favourite character, which I have done at…uh…some length. WOOPS.

I love Abby. I think she’s an interesting character,a sympathetic character, a vibrant and complicated and vital character. She’s someone I look up to, the kind of person I would like to be. And it bums me out to think that there are fans who just don’t like her, or simply don’t care about her, and that I will probably never be able to change their minds on that.

But there are plenty of people who feel the same way I do too. So Anon, if you are still reading this - and frankly I wouldn’t blame you if you had given up some time ago - my advice for you is this:

Agree to disagree. Talk to your friend about characters you both love in the show. Ask them to keep an open mind about Abby, and try to find out why they just haven’t warmed to her in the way you presumably have. And if you ever want to flail over our smol cinnamon roll science babe queen…there are plenty of us ready and waiting to join you :)

#Anonymous #The 100 #Abby Griffin #The 100 meta #all I can say about this is...well...you asked #I am always up for talking about Abby

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