#The relationship between black women and black men is so complicated. like yes I would march for you. Yes I would protect you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astrohnova · 3 years

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𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ransom hugh drysdale thrombey x latina!camgirl!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 2.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 Ransom and you have a complicated relationship. But his fucking makes it simple.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 +18 ONLY. IF YOU’RE A MINOR, i’ll kick your ass and also block u. insults, explicit language, smut (sex toy use, filmed sex, filmed masturbation, dumbification, breeding kink, squirting mention, spit play, blowjob, rough sex (all consented tho) creampie, daddy kink, "bitch", "whore", "cumslut", "slut"), use of spanish phrases without translation. WHEN IN DOUBT, DON’T READ. THAT’S IT.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

I’m new at writing so if I should add more tags let me know. Also, english is not my first language so it might be a little weirdly worded so just let me know and i’ll change whatever’s wrong. I’m sorry

If you reblog and leave me some feedback I’ll kiss your mouth. With tongue.

The new lingerie set you’d bought made you feel savage. You knew it was something that your followers would enjoy. You decided to appear soft and delicate today, a good girl. So you turned your camera on, and while you were waiting for your payers to come in, you were sucking a lollipop endearingly, to gradually rile up the people watching you.

The candles you had lit along with the perfume you had spread in the room, with the soft music sounding in the background set the ambient, and your hand was gloved sending goosebumps through every part of skin you caressed. You were just fueling every sense, aislating yourself from the real world. You put the lollipop down and laided your back onto the headboard of your bed, with the computer at your feet, your clothed pussy in the first plane for your followers to admire and the clothed hand making it’s way there.

You’ve bought this glove recently, it was a sex toy. Made of black latex and a different head on each of your fingers, along with different textures that would let you see the stars. You even put a vibrator inside the middle one, just touching the point of your middle finger. Every head was different and enticing. And the vibrations between your thighs, so close to you sensible cunt left you gasping. Your lips and eyes stand out from the mask that you had on your face, sensual and with the same color as your underwear.

You looked straight to the camera when you grazed the vibrator contained by the latex over your pussy, while you gasped and then moaned, laying your head back. You could hear the sound of subscriptions coming in, and you suggestively moaned before pulling your panties to the side with your uncovered hand and brushing the vibrator on your clit, whining lightly. Then you put one of your fingers inside of you, and moaned directly to the camera, while you rubbed soft circles on your clit with your thumb, your belly contracting gently, your nipples hardening.

You took your finger off and brought it to your lips. And before you kept the show going, you said “Thank you for the gift, I’m enjoying myself so much. I hope you get off too”. You inserted two fingers in your pussy and moaned out loud.

📷

He was watching you going down the street, completely mesmerized. Just like the other men and women seeing you. He was smoking, but the smoke got into his eyes, for not being careful; his whole attention was on you. He threw the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it.

“Que hermosa, mamita.” A cute man complimented you, and you smiled and winked.

“Gracias mi amor. So pretty yourself.” You complemented and left him with his mouth open. But compliments were responded to, and he was a beautiful man.

You were walking with so much confidence and all eyes were naturally attracted to your presence, in that dress that hugged you perfectly, in those heels that took you some time to accustom to but now you walked like on a runway. And those striking stockings that you were wearing. You really were feeling yourself, that’s what a good night of orgasms and money gets you, really. You had earned so much, just had a few video requests that you had to fulfill and this month's cuota would be filled. And with this new job you had landed, things were starting to get off for you and your family

He was about to kill all the tigers that were stomping in your way, looking at you the way he did. Thinking the same things that he did, incited by that fucking dress, that gracefullness of your soul, and the barm coat that flew with the wind as you ate the wole street up. He was meeting you on this old cozy bar, after seeing that video of you yesterday he was riled up and just needed to be inside your warm pussy this cold afternoon, maybe with the coffee that you were gonna drink while you argued still stained on your mouth, that he was going to pry from your willing mouth as you gasped against him, with your mixed spit going down your chin from the sloppy kisses that he loves, and your breathy whines that had him rubbing his crotch against your stomach. And he couldn’t wait to see if you were wearing the lingerie that he had bought you, with that color that highlighted your skin undertone and got his dick leaking precum. Last night you were glorious, and today you were a walking goddess.

“Hola, imbécil.”

“Now that’s not very nice, especially after all the money I gave you last night.”

“Mhhm. Others gave me more, papito.”

“That so?”

“It is.”

“I got something more that they can’t give you. And you’re driving me feral, walking like that towards me, flirting with other guys. I thought I made it clear that you were mine.”

“And I thought I made it clear that I was my own. Especially after last night, did you see me get myself off that hard? And after the video endend I got so fucking happy, so fucking horny with all the comments, the views, the pictures that I got that I went to sleep humping my pillow.”

“Pictures?”

“Oh yes, I got so many pictures of so many pretty cocks daddy”

“You were thinking of other cocks, slut?” He questioned, grabbing you by your arm and putting you against a wall as you laughed.

“Not only thinking, papi, I found this hot guy that was just drooling for me, and he made me drool for him so much. The sheets were so messy that I had to change them after he left.” He gripped your throat harder, just growling furiously.

“Fucking bitch, I’m gonna stuff my cock so deep than your throat to make you regret everything you just said.”

“But daddy, I haven’t told you the best part yet!” You bite your lip, seeing his predatory eyes that wanted to devour you entirely. And you kept going without remorse. “The mattress was so wet too. You never reached that, did you? You want me to think that I’m yours but I got others treating me better.” You pouted, all that you were saying was true and seeing this look in his eyes was such a sight. You almost whined from his look alone.

He grabbed you by the arm and took you to his car, getting on it just right before you on the driver’s side. Wildly driving back to his place to get you fucking stuffed

“You’re driving me insane, bitch. Did you fucking curse me?”

“I did, every dick that enters this sweet pussy, plastic or meat, gets obsessed.”

“Don’t talk like that, making me more horny.”

“I’m sure your hand can help you, guapo.”

“My hand? Are you kidding me? You put that dress on, that looks more like a fucking t-shirt, to come see me and then you leave me with my hand? No, fucking whore You’re giving me your mouth. I have to wipe that smug smile and that boy’s taste off your lips. So suck, vicious little bitch.” So you did, with the loudest and a porn-like moan you quickly undid his briefs pulling his cock out, sucking the tip first.

“Daddy, the lollipop yesterday got me thinking so much about your cock. I couldn’t wait to taste you like this again.” He grabbed you by the hair at the red light, roughly pulling you up to met his face, yours pleasure filled, with drool over your chin, the same that had dirtied his pants.

“You fucking slut, were you just drilling me up to make me get rough on you?”

“No daddy, I did fuck the boy. That was yesterday morning, and then yesterday night I found a little time to think about you.”

“Yeah? Now all you're gonna have in your head and your mouth is me.” He shoved his cock deep into you, and when you gagged he pushed himself further and kept you there. “”Breathe, make this nice for me. I know you can do it.” You could, you enjoyed this so much, your paties were drenched. And what would he do when he notices you weren't wearing the pair he bought for you. Hopefully, break you. You started moving your hips, moving some friction in your pussy, and tastefully wiggling your ass for Ransom to admire.

“That’s right, cumslut. I'll make your ass fire up later too.”

📷

You screamed sensually when he hit your ass. You were on all fours, head down ass up, exposed to Ransom. He was filming your glistening pussy and your delicious ass that bounced on his torso asking for more pain. Delicious pain.

“I’m gonna break you with my cock baby. But after you ask nicely. Your followers want to know what a whore you are.”

“Such a whore! I want your dick papi, you fuck me so good. I want you to leave me braindead, drooling, filled. Please, please, please papi. Cogeme, fuck me. Te tengo muchas ganas.” You whined so hard, so annoyingly empty and desperate.

“What a good girl, making daddy so happy. Here you go, cunt.” He put one hand on your ass and thrusted into you aggressively. He positioned the camera to capture your joy filled face and his hips slamming in you. He didn’t stop nor slowed down, and started rubbing your clit to make you man loader, and you started to move back against him.

“You’re such a greedy little girl, you want all of me. ‘Cmon, give it to me now.”

“Ah!” You opened your mouth in a silent scream when you came, wetting him with your fluids.

And he quickly turned you around, on your back with your legs spread to search for his own high. But you were so sensible you started to close your legs and tried to squirm away from him. But he grabbed your face and spit on your cheek.

“Don’t you fucking dare pushe me away. You take it. Open your fucking legs. Open them wide.” You did, and he used you like a doll, with your mind swimming in pleasure, in his gorans in your ears and his hair caressing your face. He came, pushing himself against you and spilling into the condom. He moved away from you and grabbed the camera, turning it off. Then you were gonna edit the video a little bit, cropping some parts to upload to twitter and the full part you were gonna send it to your special subscribers. You gathered yourself, going to the bathroom to wash yourself a little bit, and coming with a cigarette in your mouth, already lit. You threw yourself on the bed.

“We… We have to stop doing this.” Ransom turned himself to you, taking the cigarette out of your hand and smoking it.

“Baby, you say that everytime. And then you do shit like today.”

“I know. But it’s different now, Hugh.”

“What the fuck you calling me that for?”

“‘Cause I got a new job. Lisa’s personal assistant. And I don’t intend to be higher than all the employees you ask to call you that and then go ahead and disrespect them.”

“You don’t have to work for shit, baby. I’ll pay everything for you. You just keep making those videos and the rest is on me”

“What? Like a sugar daddy? No jodás.” You grabbed another cigarette for yourself, so this dipshit wouldn’t take it away from you

“I mean it baby, I can give you the world, just let me”

“I already have the world papito, and I got it all on my own.” He hummed, and his eyes lit up when you called him ‘daddy’ in spanish, in this intimacy. With your body still displayed for him, through which he roamed his eyes in.

“Papito?” He repeated with an accent. “Maybe I can make a mama out of you....” He burned the cigarette out and took yours off too.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You complained in a moan when he turned you around, on your belly with your hands by your head and his entire muscular, heavy and warm body sprayed out on you. He then pushed deep into you.

“Get off me, Ransom.” You complained in a gasp.

“But I’m so deep ‘side you... I just have to get this shit off me to fill you up.“ He still had his condom on, but he hurriedly got it off and dived inside you again.

“What?! Don’t you dare. Get. The hell. Off.”

“Don’t lie to me princess, you want me to fill this pussy. You’ll be a fucking queen, in my arms, being spoiled with my money. I’ll take care of you and all the kids you’re gonna give me.”

“Ransom…” Your accent was spilling, and your resistance was getting away from you, his words and promises stained in your brain. “Fucking dick.”

“Nobody takes me like you, gripping me like that. You’re just a whore for me, ain’t you? Want all of me.”

“Ah, Ransom, you’re so deep.” You whined, your belly contracting.

“What do you want, honey? I wanna hear you beg for it”

“I-- Please Ransom. Please, please, please llename. Por favor, papi!” You moaned when he started pushing into you again. Last round had been intense and you had little break, so naturally you didn’t last long. You came screaming Ransom’s name, free to do so without a camera in front of you. And he was so close too, his mind winded up with getting you pregnant, with images of your belly full, your tasty breasts with all the milk he was gonna drink. He was goraning so much, your pussy grabbing him so hard, pushing him farther inside of you.

“Are you gonna be a good mama for me?”

“The best, daddy! Just please, please fill me.” And he did, with the loudest groan. To then turn you around and start admiring your tits, your body, getting inside your head with compliments of the mommy you were gonna be. And all the videos you were gonna make with your horniness, with your huge titis and that round belly. How he wanted to cover you in cum and get it on camera to show that you were his, cause getting you pregnant just wasn’t enough. And after that, he went down to eat his leaking cum out of you and prepared you for the next round.

#ransom drysdale smut #ransom drydale x you #ransom thrombey x reader #knives out smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans image #latina!reader

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

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Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

#long post #anonymous #ask

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certified-dumbass02 · 3 years

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Gold Rush (pt.1)

A college AU.

Yelena is a playgirl….but really she’s just a huge flirt who’s been too chicken to really do anything for the last year because she’s secretly just as in love with you as you are with her.

Inspired by the always excellent @peachbear88 and Taylor Swift’s gold rush. Split into two parts because I thought it was getting too long.

~*~

Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

To be fair, she’s the death of pretty much everyone she crosses paths with on campus. Her prowess has, unsurprisingly, earned her several flattering - to her, since she laughs and preens at them - nicknames: Russian Assassin, Femme Fatale…Black Widow.

With her devastatingly gorgeous good looks, frustratingly charming personality, and annoyingly enduring popularity as one of the star athletes at the university, Yelena is never short of admirers.

What’s worse is she’s fully aware of her affect on others; men, women, everything in between - they all flock to her in a crowded room, clamoring to hear the Russian lilt she inherited from her immigrant parents glide silkily over a sarcastic quip or flirtatious comment.

Being around her is like being underwater, or being sucked into a black hole; reality just doesn’t seem quite the way that it normally does. People seem to lose their sense around her, trip over themselves just to try and impress her for the night, or grab her attention.

It is for this reason that you steadily avoid Yelena.

The idea of being enamored with someone to the point of foolishness has always left a bad taste in your mouth, and eliciting that behavior just happens to be one of Yelena’s specialties.

You want no part of it.

As appealing as she is, and you can’t deny that she is, you’ve never seen yourself entering what would surely be an ill-fated endeavor with someone that everyone wants. The stubborn part of you that has always gone against the grain, that prides itself on individuality and refuses to jump on any bandwagon, will not permit you to step into the Widow’s web as most others do.

Unfortunately, despite your vow to steer clear of her, you always find yourself in her orbit. It’s not your fault, really, and it’s not a problem - at least not at first. It begins with a forced partnership, a group project for a class you share, and when she isn’t being an obnoxious, terrible flirt determined to get a rise out of you, you get along really well.

She’s intelligent, observant, and she makes you laugh - internally, of course. You won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that you actually enjoy her presence rather than just tolerate it; your other group members stroke her ego enough. When the project is over, you’re overcome with the startling realization that you might miss bantering with her. You let out a sigh of relief to be done with it, because you already know that further exposure to Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

Naturally, you are further exposed to Yelena Belova.

You two have always run in similar social circles, connected loosely by mutual friends and choice of hangout spot, but previously you’d managed to duck her prowling green gaze, at least as long as it would take her to find her toy for the evening. After you’d been placed on her radar, however, it becomes impossible to hide.

Any room you’re in, no matter how crowded, she finds you.

Time and time again, she seeks you out, her mob of admirers following. You find it amusing how ironic the situation is: they clamor for her attention, and are ignored while she clamors for your attention and you ignore her or coolly brush her off.

You know you have no business humoring her because the second you give in, you’ll just be the latest in a long line of people that she’s loved and left. You refuse to be taken for a ride.

(If you privately admit to yourself as you watch the sway of her hips and the flex of strong arms over the swell of her chest that it would be one hell of a ride, that’s nobody’s business but yours.)

The problems arise when she ceases flirting mercilessly and instead shifts into something resembling an actual human being, wiggling her way into conversations and debates with you that last throughout the night. She still flirts, of course, but you’re accustomed to it now. She grows on you and grows on you, and the moment she begins to be your friend you groan knowing you cannot stop the inevitable.

Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

~*~

It’s been almost a year of being friends with Yelena, and you are miserably, ridiculously in love with her.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned after countless conversations, shared drinks and laughs, it’s that she’s annoyingly easy to fall in love with and annoyingly difficult to fall out of love with.

Your stupid heart beats faster whenever you see her stupid gleaming eyes and her stupid glossy blonde hair that always, always falls perfectly into place around her stupid pretty face; you feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs whenever you hear that raspy Russian drawl roll over your ears and you absolutely cannot stand it.

It’s stupid- she’s Yelena, and everyone still wants her. You’re stupid because you thought you could avoid joining that statistic, and it frustrates you to no end; it’s bad enough to develop feelings for Yelena, known playgirl, but it’s even worse when you develop feelings for Yelena, your best friend.

In an effort to get over her, you let your other best friend set you up on a date with one of their friends, hoping that it can turn you into something resembling your old self, because then you can get back to acting normally around Yelena instead of…whatever this is.

You meet up with your date at your favorite bar. It’s familiarity brings you comfort because you’ve always been awful at dates, and even if you don’t know this girl, you still feel nervous.

She introduces herself as Kate as you two settle into one of the more isolated tables in the corner of the bar, and you’re grateful she seems to make conversation much less anxiously and awkwardly than you do.

Kate is pretty and seems really nice; she’s bold when she flirts with you, which catches you off guard because you’re used to how Yelena flirts. You can’t really bring yourself to flirt back, because somehow it feels like a betrayal, but Kate is patient and takes it in stride. You find yourself not resenting your best friend’s pick as much as you thought you would, and an hour and two drinks pass by rather painlessly.

Kate gets up to go to the bathroom as you thumb the wet ring around your third drink, and consider the pros and cons of replying to the text Yelena sent you hours ago.

It is truly unfortunate that just as you sit your phone down without answering, determined to leave it alone, she walks into the bar.

Yes, you know this for sure: Yelena Belova will be the death of you.

~*~

You will be the death of Yelena Belova. She knows this.

You do not.

You are everything that enchants her and frustrates her; from the moment she’s partnered with you, she can’t stop thinking about you.

Yelena is both a complicated and a simple girl.

(“I’m an onion. I have layers,” she tells you one night early in your tentative friendship, and startles because it’s the first time you’ve ever laughed aloud at something she’s said; she decides immediately it’s her favorite sound and endeavors to elicit it any chance she gets.)

Yelena is both a complicated and a simple girl, but she knows when she wants something and she always pursues what she wants.

(“It sucks!” She laments one day to her sister. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as Y/N, and I can’t even do anything about it!”

Natasha glances unimpressed at her sister dramatically plopped onto the couch beside her. “You could always, I don’t know, ask Y/N out.”

Yelena grabs a pillow and shoved her face into it with a groan. “I’ve tried that, don’t you think I’ve tried that! Every time I flirt, I’m brushed off. I’m not taken seriously!”

“Well you do look like a clown, of course it’s hard to take you seriously.”

Natasha easily dodges the pillow flung at her head as Yelena scowls at her. “Not helping, Natasha.”

“Okay, okay,” Natasha holds her hands up in surrender. “What if you tried a different approach? Maybe ease up on the flirting and try acting like a friend first.”

“But I want to be more than friends,” Yelena pouts childishly, and Natasha blinks.

“I feel like I’ve just slipped into an alternate universe. Yelena Belova wants to enter a committed relationship,” Natasha deadpans and dodges another pillow aimed at her head.)

Yes, Yelena wants you and has wanted you for a very, very long time, but she’s got no clue how to tell you she loves you without you thinking she’s joking or misunderstanding her entirely.

(“Y/N, I looooove you,” she drawls one night, drunk as you ease her into the back of your car. You don’t know it, but it’s the first night she’s turned down a convenient partner because she just couldn’t get you off her mind. Afterwords, she wasn’t sure if she got so trashed in mourning or celebration and called you because you’re the only thing solid in her vodka haze.

You answered, assumed she’d needed a DD - which she did - and rushed to take her home.

She falls in love with you even more with how quickly you come to get her, how dependable you are even in the middle of the night.

So she tells you she loves you, over and over again, and you furrow your brow at her in your rear view mirror in confusion.

Then, you giggle because she starts singing loudly.

She pouts at your laugh, and you wonder what is going on in that pretty little head, completely unaware that the only thought running through it is you.

Yelena babbles more at you, love pouring from her lips over and over because she’s desperate for you to understand that you’re the most beautiful thing she’s seen as the moonlight glances off your cheekbones in your car and she’s never met someone who calls her on her shit and you make her laugh and-

“Alright, comrade. Let’s turn you on your side. There’s a trashcan right here, and a couple of water bottles and ibuprofen right there,” you say gently as you guide her into her apartment and into her bead. She clutches at you as you slide her shoes off, tries to tell you again, but you just shake your head with a smile.

She goes quiet, stunned by the sight of it.

You pat her on the head, pull the covers over her, and turn out the light. She makes a sound of protest as you say goodnight, but stirs no further, and you leave silently back to your apartment.

Yelena wakes up with a dry mouth, a headache, and a text from you that says:

Are you alive, comrade?

She furrows her brow because you’ve never called her that before and dials your number as she guzzles down her pills and water.

As it rings she remembers telling you everything, but can’t recall your response; it makes her heart beat more rapidly than when she runs.

“Good morning, comrade!” You chirp smugly, practically hearing her wince.

“Morning. What’s with the comrade, comrade?” Yelena asks, her hope tentatively rising because you don’t sound like someone totally disgusted with her for confessing her feelings.

You laugh, and she automatically smiles in response.

“Well, you were very chatty last night.”

Her hope blooms further in her chest, because finally, finally you understand she’s serious about you.

“But you were absolutely committed to your mother tongue. I don’t think you said one word in English the whole ride back to your place, besides my name.”

It is only then that she is overcome with the crushing realization that she spent the entire night professing her love to you in Russian, which you do not speak.

Yelena feels like the wind has been knocked out of her, but she forces a choked laugh out anyways as you go on. She’s thankful you do, because she’s not sure that after all the words she’d said last night uselessly that she has any words left in her.

“You know, you kept saying something, it sounded kind of like this,” you mimic the phrase, stumbling a little over the pronunciation but it’s almost perfect. It is perfect to her.

Those green eyes you adore so much well up in tears to hear you say “I love you” to her, especially to hear it in Russian. But it’s so, so cruel because you have no idea what you’re saying, no idea what she meant when she said it to you first.

She laughs again hopelessly, quickly changes the subject and lets you rant on and on about what you have to do that day.

When you get off the phone, she sighs and falls back into bed, playing the way you said I love you over and over in her head.)

Yelena loves you, and she knows you’ll be the death of her.

She becomes especially aware of this recently, when you start acting odd. You’re distancing yourself a bit because you’re in love with her so much it hurts, but she doesn’t know that and she’s bothered like never before.

So she finds herself at her favorite bar, which is also your favorite bar, to ease her nerves. She’s both surprised and thrilled to see you sitting in the corner table there, if a little confused. Still, she’s pulled to you like a magnet, like she’s been for the past year, and she approaches you with a grin.

Pt.2:

#yelena belova #yelena x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena x you #Taylor Swift inspires gay thoughts #we love dumbasses who can’t communicate #black widow #natasha romanoff

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professorrw · 3 years

Note

Hey could I please request a LokixReader story set on Sakaar where they have an enemies to friends to lovers relationship? Lots of fluff and smut if that’s okay. Thank you xxxx

Lord have mercy is this long. I love the request (probably a little too much). I have to warn you before reading, it's 6.6K words, the longest fic I've written yet. BUT I love it. I'm really proud of it!

Pairing: female reader x Loki

Requested: Yes

Warnings: smut, 18+, praise, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, fighting (Hulk and Thor), spoilers for Thor Ragnarok, takes place during Ragnarok

A/N: And with this finished I'm going to take a day to myself tomorrow! I'm not feeling very well and I want to catch up on my series because I've been neglecting it. Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

You could ask anyone on Sakaar who the Grandmaster’s favorite person was and they would say it was you. You grew up on the trash planet with your father, who was a reject from his home planet. But on Sakaar you were basically royalty. Your father befriended the million year old Grandmaster when you were just two and from then on you were living in the lap of luxury.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been on Sakaar, but it had been a few hundred years. You didn’t look that old, more like twenty to thirty. But there was no way to be certain with the way that time worked on Sakaar.

Your life was perfect in your opinion. You and your father were happy and healthy on the trash planet. Every day you would dress in your finest silk robes, adorn your flashy face paint, and go to the arena to watch fights. When you weren’t doing that you were in your home or with the Grandmaster, who was basically a second father to you.

It was the end of the day and you were eating dinner with the Grandmaster, your father, and some other ‘royalty.’ As typical with all meals held by the Grandmaster it was full of excited and animated talking and extravagant food. You were too busy drinking your wine to engage in conversation, unlike your father who hadn’t touched his plate in favor of speaking to the man next to him.

Your father was a very social man, probably why the Grandmaster took such a liking to him. They were equally as flamboyant and outgoing. the Grandmaster often remarked how much you looked like your father. You had the same hair color, eye color and shape, and skin tone. Though you couldn’t tell your father’s true hair color anymore because it had started greying, contrary to the rest of his body that wasn’t aging as quickly.

There was a knock at the dining room door and the Grandmaster called for whoever it was to come in. The noise had drawn everyones’ attention, and all eyes were on the man that was being escorted in. He was tall, with fair skin and raven black hair. He was the most attractive man you had seen in a while. He didn’t look like a lot of the men you saw, but he still looked elegant.

“Who is this?” the Grandmaster asked.

Instead of waiting for the guards to speak, the detainee spoke, “I am Loki, God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard. I would like to say right now that it is a mistake imprisoning me and I will forget all about it if you let me go right now.” Loki spoke swiftly and with an accent foreign to many you heard normally. He had a very charming speech but you were in utter shock at the way he had spoken to the Grandmaster.

You expected the Grandmaster to order the guards to throw him in with the other gladiators and make him go against the champion, but he actually laughed, followed by everyone else in the room other than you.

“Well, Loki, I suppose I don’t need to make you fight. You can keep me company instead. How does that sound?”

It must not have been what Loki was expecting because he raised his eyebrows and said nothing for several seconds. “I think that would be fine,” he finally responded.

“Good, good. Why don’t you take that off him so he can pull up a chair?” the Grandmaster said to the guards. They did as he ordered and unshackled the dark haired man. As soon as he was free he grabbed a chair and planted right in between the Grandmaster and you. Loki sat down and gazed at you, offering a dazzling smile.

You squinted at him for a moment, sizing him up. You knew he was going to be trouble, to you at least.

“Ah Loki, please meet Y/N. She’s like a daughter to me,” the Grandmaster said to him.

“Hello Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His words were so obviously a lie that it made you scowl. You could hear the sarcasm seeping from his words. You could tell that he was already trying to butter up the Grandmaster. But in actuality he was trying not to get himself killed. Thor was nowhere to be found and he was on this planet by himself.

“Likewise,” you said back. You turned away from the men and started eating your meal, pointedly ignoring Loki as you did so. You could hear their conversation and it was almost impossible not to eavesdrop. The Grandmaster was mostly talking about himself, all things that you’d already heard before. Loki, when given the chance to talk, was just complimenting him in return.

When the meal was over and the dishes were collected the Grandmaster addressed your father. “My dear Holden, would you house my company for the time being?”

You whipped your head over to the Grandmaster. You couldn’t believe the words that had just come from his mouth. You couldn’t believe he was asking you and your father to let Loki stay with you. But your father being your father would have no problem with it. You just knew he was going to accept.

As you expected he said, “Why of course, the more the merrier.”

Your house was incredibly close to the palace. There really was no need for guards to escort you and your father home but the Grandmaster thought it was necessary. So after dinner you, your father, and Loki made your way to your home. It was very beautiful, and almost as grand as the palace itself, but much smaller.

Your father was in high spirits as usual. Once you were inside your father turned to Loki with a brilliant smile adorning his face. "We are delighted to have you. Please follow me, you can sleep here in the guest bedroom. Y/N is right next door so you can go to her if you need anything."

You looked at your father with a deadpan expression, which he didn't seem to notice. Loki on the other hand was positively beaming back at your father.

"Thank you so much for the hospitality. I really cannot thank you enough."

Your father chuckled, "It's no trouble at all. Any guest of the Grandmaster's is a guest of mine. So please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you again. I am quite tired so I think I'll be heading to bed. Goodnight Holden, goodnight Y/N." He bowed and went to his chambers without another word.

You looked incredulously at your father but he seemed to not have a care in the world. He was awfully aloof when it came to matters dealing with the Grandmaster. Your father and the Grandmaster had a complicated relationship. You really had no clue what was going on with them. They called each other dear and said they loved each other, but you had seen the Grandmaster and your father doing a fair share of flirting with many men and women.

You walked to your own room with a heavy sigh. You stayed up for a few hours that night wondering about the man next door.

You quickly realized that the Grandmaster had taken a liking to Loki. The next morning you, your father, and Loki were having breakfast with the Grandmaster and Loki was hanging onto every word that came out of the man's mouth. You just knew that Loki didn't care. But what you want to know are his intentions. He randomly shows up on your planet and instantly catches the Grandmaster's attention.

You spend most of the morning with your father, preferring his company to the Grandmaster and his new pet. The next time you saw him was at lunch. And just like at dinner the previous night Loki was sitting right next to the Grandmaster. Instead of enduring the empty compliments that were coming from Loki you decided to sit farther down the table next to another one of your father's friends.

"Hello Marridija," you said as you sat down. Marridija was a very kind woman. Kind and very up to date on all the goings on at the palace. It was no surprise that she was close to the Grandmaster.

"Why hello Y/N. You aren't sitting at the front of the table today?" Her drawn-on eyebrows drew in and she tilted her head to the side slightly, making you worry that her hair, which was styled heavily with spray to keep it straight up, would tip over and ruin. Over the many years on Sakaar you had grown accustomed to the wild fashion in the palace. Everyone in the Grandmaster's group wore metallic face paint and did their hair as tall and elaborate as possible.

Out of everyone at the table Marridija had the craziest hair and brightest makeup. She always made sure she was seen in a crowd. Her hair was bubble gum pink and looked like cotton candy on top of her head. Her makeup was many bright streaks of pink, blue, and gold.

"No, not today. I thought I might try something new."

"Oh. Well I'm delighted that you decided to sit by me. I've been meaning to ask-" her eyes cut from you to something over your shoulder before returning to talking, "about your company last night."

You clenched your jaw for a second before you answered her. "What would you like to know?"

"Well… the whole palace wants to know about this mysterious man. Loki, he said." She was speaking in a hushed voice so no one other than you could hear her. If anyone heard her they would most definitely be listening in. But Marridija was good at being quiet when she needed to be. She wanted to be the first with fresh gossip, and for that she would have to hear it before anyone else.

“There isn’t much to tell really. As soon as we got home he went off to his bedroom.”

The woman narrowed her eyes for a second before giving a huff. “Oh Y/N, you won’t give an old lady a bit of juice now will you?” Her face changed from a pout to a sly smile a few seconds after she said that. “Or is there something you don’t want to share with me? A secret of your own perhaps?”

“Absolutely not Marridija. What I’ve told you is the truth. I’m sorry I have nothing juicy enough for your ears.”

You turned away from the woman and forward towards the table and the meal being set in front of you. Through the whole of breakfast you remained silent, listening to the chatter around you. There always seemed to be something to talk about on Sakaar, but with Loki’s arrival and the Grandmaster’s liking towards him has made Loki the center of attention.

After breakfast the guests were clearing out of the dining hall. The Grandmaster had dismissed everyone and he and Loki were the last to leave. You stuck around and when the Grandmaster went to use the restroom and left Loki unoccupied you walked up to him. A smile appeared on his face as he saw your smaller frame scowling at him as you neared. For whatever reason he was quite enjoying how frustrated he was making you, though he didn’t know what exactly was making you mad.

“Hello Y/N,” he greeted.

“Don’t act all innocent. You’re up to something.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up but his smile remained. “And what would that be?”

“Well I’ve come to find that out.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet in front of Loki. It wasn’t your best look but you wanted to intimidate him. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He was taller than you and obviously confident enough to tell the Grandmaster it was a mistake to imprison him.

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, as they say, but I don’t have anything planned. I landed here by mistake.” Loki said the words so simply you just couldn’t believe it. If he was telling the truth then it would take more than that to convince you.

“And why should I believe you?”

“Well I suppose you shouldn’t. You don’t know me, you don’t know my past or all the things I’ve done. Maybe we could spend some time together and you’ll realize I’m being honest.”

Loki wasn’t entirely sure why he said that last part. He had never offered to let someone get to know him. But a part of him also wanted someone to be able to talk to since he was all alone on a planet he was an outsider on. And it helped that he thought you were incredibly attractive.

You on the other hand didn’t know what to make of his words. If you accepted you might be falling right into his trap, into his plan. But on the other hand maybe he was being genuine. It surely wouldn’t hurt to find out more about him. If he was lying then you could possibly find out his intentions. So you thought the only logical decision would be to accept.

“Fine. After dinner we’ll go to my home and we can… get to know each other. But only because I want to know if you’re telling the truth.”

He laughed, “Of course, of course. See you then.”

The door you were standing next to opened and the Grandmaster himself walked out. He clasped his hands together and a smile appeared on his face. “Y/N! Thank you for keeping Loki company. Are you two getting along?”

You and Loki glanced at each other. There was no way you were going to say no, both of you had common sense. So you both put on a smile and looked as comfortable as possible.

“We are!” Loki said first. He put a huge grin on his face and leaned towards you, draping an arm around your shoulder. The sudden touch almost made you recoil, but if you did that it would look strange to the man that had just questioned your relationship.

“Well Loki and I should be going. I’ll see you at supper gorgeous.” The Grandmaster wiggled his fingers at you with an award winning smile. Loki took his arm off you and started following after him when the Grandmaster began to walk away. A hole might have been burnt into the back of Loki’s head from your staring. He was so puzzling. Irksome even.

The footsteps eventually faded as they walked further and further away from you and closer to wherever it was they were going. Your own slippered feet padded against the floor of the palace as you made your way down to the bottom level, outside, and safely in your home. It was a shame that most of the people your age were bounty hunters. You were all in all lonely. Maybe that’s what led you to agree to getting to know Loki.

You assumed he was around your age. He claimed to be a god after all, so he must be more than the average person.

Dinner rolled around and you went to the palace to eat as you did everyday. Loki was there. Though you knew he would be. You weren’t used to his presence just yet, so every time you saw him you were still slightly surprised. You were used to being around the ‘royalty’ of Sakaar for years and attending the same mundane events all the time. Loki was something new, something fresh. That’s why he was such a buzz on Sakaar. Especially when he made such an impression on the Grandmaster.

After the meal you went home and waited for Loki. You knew he would have to tell the Grandmaster some excuse for him to leave, so he was going to be a few minutes behind you.

Ten minutes after you had arrived home the door opened and Loki walked in. You couldn't help but laugh when you saw the exasperated expression on his face. You knew just how tiring the Grandmaster could be. Upon hearing the ring of your laughter Loki smiled. It was the first time he heard you make that sound and thought it was beautiful.

He slung his hair out of his face and slid into the white bar stool next to you at the kitchen island. You already had two glasses of champagne ready for the two of you. Assuming you would need it.

"What did you have to tell him to let you leave?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips.

"Well I told him I was tired and he just laughed it off then I said I was having an upset stomach and wasn't doing so well down there and he let me go."

Neither of you could hold back laughter. You were the first to start cracking up and seeing your reaction influenced Loki's joyous noise. The atmosphere was smooth and laid back. In preparation you had a drink beforehand, hence why you were so calm. Loki's smile and infectious attitude were also to blame.

In the time span of lunch and coming home you realized how ridiculous you were being. You had only just met Loki yesterday and you were already trying to accuse him of trying to harm the creator of your planet.

Once the laughter had died down you set your glass on the countertop and turned to Loki. "I'm sorry for how I've acted towards you. I haven't treated you fairly or given you a chance at all. I started jumping to conclusions and that was wrong of me. So I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me."

“Wow- I- Yes I can forgive you. I understand where you were coming from. You care about the Grandmaster and don't want him to be in danger. I think that’s very noble of you.” The corners of Loki’s eyes crinkled up as he looked at you with a soft smile.

“Well… thank you. I’m glad we’re on good terms.” You gave him an awkward smile and took another sip of your drink. Loki picked up his own and took a sip of it.

"So your father and the Grandmaster… are they together?" he asked once his glass was empty.

“I’m not entirely sure. They’re relationship is complicated. I know they call each other love and darling but they also flirt and do things with other people too.” You cringed at the memory of coming home and hearing your father with one of his friends. But beside you Loki let out a chuckle. He was really enjoying getting to see this new side of you.

With a final tip of your flute you had finished your drink. Looking over you realized that Loki had too, so you stood and refilled it.

“I just realized I didn’t ask you if you wanted another glass,” you said when you had finished pouring.

He waved you off. “Don’t worry, I do.”

You slid his flute across the counter and leaned on it, not bothering to go back around to sit on the stool again. “So, you said that you ended up here by accident… what did you mean by that?”

“Ah, trying to find out if I’m lying again? I thought this was behind us,” he said.

“I’m not asking because of that. It is behind us. I want to know more about you and what you were doing before you got to Sakaar.”

He nodded. “Well I was with my brother. Though I don’t know why he hasn’t gotten here yet.”

“Time works differently here,” you interjected. “So if you both came through at the same time he might get here later than you did.”

“Ah okay, well that explains it then. Anyways, I was with my brother, Thor. My sister, Hela, has cast us out of Asgard and we need to get back there and defeat her. We don’t stand a chance though,” he explained.

“If you need help getting there then I’m sure my father and I can be of assistance.”

“I think I should wait for Thor to arrive, whenever that is…” he trailed off.

“He could show up any day. But while you’re here you can hang out with me.” “When you’re not with the Grandmaster that is,” you added.

“I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get away from him but I’ll definitely try.”

The last drops of your champagne slid down your throat as you smiled against your glass. You were really looking forward to getting to spend time with Loki.

For the next few days after that you guys were together any chance you got. The Grandmaster was keeping Loki close, but he was able to make up excuses to come see you when he could. Loki was like a breath of fresh air in your life. His life was a lot different than yours, but you found yourselves relating in multiple ways.

Every time you two were together all you could do was smile. It was like you had found your first true friend. But you knew that when Thor came that Loki would be leaving. Even though it was wrong you hoped that Thor wouldn’t arrive for a while just so you could have more time together.

It was a little over a week since Loki had arrived and you were laying next to each other on your leisure ship, staring up at the stars.

“It’s beautiful, everything here is,” Loki whispered. You were looking straight above you but when Loki was speaking he had turned his head towards you.

“It’s strange isn’t it? It’s called the trash or garbage planet but it’s dazzling if you take the time to look around.” When you finished speaking you rolled your head to the side to look at Loki. The whole time you were speaking he was memorizing every part of your face with a smile on his own. When you saw him smiling you shyly smiled too.

Without you realizing Loki reached his hand over and found yours. When he did he took it and interlocked your fingers. You looked down at your entwined hands. Your heart was racing and butterflies were filling your stomach.

No words were spoken, it was just the two of you underneath a blanket of twinkling stars wishing for something more. Loki’s hand was warm in yours, and you wished that same warmth would envelop your whole body. You scooted over closer and closer to the man until he wrapped his arm around you.

“This is nice,” you mumbled against his chest.

“It is. I like having you in my arms,” Loki whispered back.

You let your eyes close and the warmth and blissful feeling take over you. You woke up in bed, wrapped up in your covers. The sun was shining and filtering through your windows and splaying out on your floor. You thought back to last night and remembered you must have fallen asleep, which meant Loki must have taken you home and carried you to bed.

You walked out of your bedroom and stood right outside your door. You weren’t sure what time it was. It was morning that was obvious. Maybe it was early enough that Loki hadn’t been summoned by the Grandmaster yet. You walked over to the bedroom next to your own and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Loki called out.

You opened the door and gently shut it back when you entered. Loki was still in bed but he was awake.

“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you.

A tired smile went across your face as you sat down on Loki’s bed. He reached out to you and pulled you into him, setting you flush against his frame and placing a kiss on top of your head.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“I slept well. Thank you for bringing me back home.”

“It was my pleasure.” Loki tilted his head down and kissed the top of your head once more. His actions were so sweet you were feeling things you had never felt before. It was wild to you how quickly you had fallen for the God of Mischief.

After laying together for a few minutes there was a knock at the front door. You sighed and got out of Loki’s bed. The guards had arrived to escort Loki and you to breakfast with the Grandmaster. You both hurriedly got dressed and left to start your day.

For another two weeks things ran smoothly. You were happy. Loki was making you happy. But you knew that the day that Thor would arrive was approaching. It had been three weeks since Loki himself had fallen onto the planet, meaning his brother was not far behind.

You were sitting with Loki and mingling with other people in one of the palace rooms when Scrapper 142 announced she found someone. 142 was Grandmaster’s favorite scrapper. She brought him his champion after all. The person she had brought came into the room in the usual reinforced chair that all contenders usually did.

Loki was sitting next to you not paying any attention and neither were you until the man started yelling Loki’s name. You looked at him with confusion before you realized, it must be Thor.

When Thor finally got Loki’s attention he immediately stopped talking and got up. They were whispering back and forth fervently until the Grandmaster came up to them and interjected. They talked for a minute before Thor was thrown into the holding area for gladiators.

“That was your brother wasn’t it? Thor?” you asked when Loki came back over to you.

“Yes, yes it was.” He lowered himself back onto the couch and stayed quiet.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just… wasn’t expecting him.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded. Not only did you understand but you felt the same way. You hoped maybe Thor would show up later, and give you more time. But no. He was there and when given the chance he was definitely going to leave. But that wouldn’t be too soon. If he was fighting the Grandmaster’s champion he may never leave. You had seen the green monster in action and he was brutal.

Later that day you and Loki were sitting in the upper class stands at the Grand Arena watching the fights. Loki was constantly wiping his palms on his pants and his leg was bouncing up and down. He had never seen the champion fight but you had told him how ferocious he was and that made Loki nervous.

The Grandmaster announced Thor and when he came out onto the dirt the crowd was filled with ‘boos’ and other jeers. The ring around the bottom of the stadium begins to rise to accommodate the height of Thor's opponent and the Grandmaster started to announce him.

“Ladies and gentlemen I give you… your Incredible…” he trailed off, or at least you thought he did because before he could say the actual name the fighter burst through the doors and yelled, “HULK!”

The blood drained from Loki’s face next to you. “I’ve got to get off this planet,” he mumbled.

“Why what’s wrong?” you asked, worried.

“The Grandmaster’s champion is an Avenger, just like Thor. And he’s defeated me.”

Down on the dirt Thor had looked up into your box and was yelling, “We know each other! He’s a friend from work.”

The Grandmaster’s mouth dropped open and he looked over at Loki, who was staring straight forward and clearing his throat.

Thor was making small talk with Hulk before you heard him look over and shout again, “Loki! Look who it is!”

You’d never seen Loki so nervous and afraid. You reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay.”

Down below Hulk was tired of hearing Thor talk and started running towards him. The fight was in full force and Loki was getting more nervous by the second. Hulk was in it to win it, and he wasn’t sure if his brother would be able to make it out. Surprisingly Thor was able to hit Hulk, sending him all across the barrier on the arena. The crowd was silent as Thor neared Hulk. He placed his hand in Hulk’s massive one and started speaking, but you couldn’t tell what he was saying.

They weren’t fighting and everyone was still and watching. Then Hulk grabbed Thor and swung him back and forth, hitting him against the ground countless times. Loki jumped up, startling you, and shouted, “Yes that’s how it feels!”

The Grandmaster looked over at him questionably and Loki responded with, “I’m just a huge fan of the sport.” The Grandmaster didn’t say anything, just turned back toward the arena and laughed.

Loki sat back down and you looked at him with your eyebrows raised, “What was that about?”

“Well… Hulk did that to me a few years ago.”

“Really?” you laughed.

“Yes. It wasn’t one of my finest moments,” he chuckled. You both settled back down on the couch and focused on the match again. The fight progressed and favor switched between Hulk and Thor for a minute or two. The Grandmaster and Loki were leaning in and cringing depending on the blow and who it had landed on. But things weren’t looking good for Thor. Hulk had him pinned down and was beating him to death.

Blow after blow was pounding down right on Thor’s face. Then something happened. You strained your eyes to see that Thor’s eyes began to glow and lighting began to glow and crackle all around his body. He seemed to gather his strength for a second, wind back his hand and land a punch right to Hulk, sending him flying with an arch of lightning, resulting in a collective gasp from the stands.

Hulk collapsed yards away from Thor. The Grandmaster raised out of his seat, stepped forward and stared at the scene below you. The crowd was murmuring and whispering all kinds of things. You looked over at Loki, who had his elbows propped up on his knees with his mouth wide open.

Thor and Hulk both stood up and ran towards each other, jumping and then hitting one another. It was like a mini-explosion where Thor’s fist collided with Hulk. You were on the edge of your seat. It seemed like Thor could win. The crowd sure seemed to think so because they were chanting, “Thunder! Thunder! Thunder!”

Your full attention was drawn on the arena and a perplexed expression crossed your face when Thor violently shook and then fell to the ground. You looked around and saw the Grandmaster pointing his activator down at Thor, activating his Obedience Disk. You couldn’t believe it. If the Grandmaster wouldn’t have interfered then Thor could have won. He could be freed.

The Grandmaster stood up with a smile and started his projection onto the center of the arena, “Well done! Well done! Two very good fighters, but it looks like my champion has defended his title once again. Thank you everyone for attending today, I hope to see you at the next battle!”

His projection disappeared and people started to file out of the stands. You could tell by the silence that followed that the Grandmaster wasn’t too happy. He walked out of the room followed by guards, leaving everyone else alone. Loki was leaning back on the couch next to you slack-jawed.

“That wasn’t fair,” you breathed out.

He shook his head, “No, no it wasn’t.”

“At least he didn’t die. He should be okay for now,” you said, talking about Thor.

“Thank god.”

You and Loki returned home and sat down on the living room couch. You never got the chance to talk about Thor’s arrival but now no one else was around.

“You might be leaving soon,” you said.

“I may.” Loki reached his hand over and took one of yours in his. You couldn’t mistake the sadness in his voice.

“I won’t make you stay. If you need to go then you should.” You looked at Loki with pure earnestness in your eyes. It hurt to say it, but if Loki and his brother needed to leave then you didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t.

“Y/N I don’t want to go. I want to stay here… with you.”

“What about your sister? Didn’t you say she was trying to take over Asgard, your home?” you questioned with a soft voice.

“Yes but- we don’t stand a chance. If we go we’ll only die. There’s no hope for us.”

You faced your whole body towards him and dipped your head down so Loki could see your face. “You don’t know that. You’re strong and I know you aren’t a coward.”

He stayed quiet but squeezed your hand and met your eyes.

“If you need to go, don’t let me hold you back,” you repeated.

Loki strained up and gave a stern look forward as he nodded his head. “You’re right. I do need to go. Asgard is my home.” He bent his head towards you and spoke, “But I want to make my time with you count.” He leaned in and tilted his head, eyes trained on your lips. You also leaned in and closed your eyes, letting yourself dissolve into the tender kiss.

It heated up quickly, pants filling the air between you every time you parted. You crawled on top of him, straddling his lap. His hands glided from your shoulder blades to your butt, caressing you.

You pulled away and opened your eyes for a second, your face only inches from his. “Should we take this to my room?”

“Yes, we should.” Loki raised up, holding you in his arms and carrying you to your room. You slid out of his arms right in front of the foot of your bed. He started undressing, pulling off his cape, boots, and other components of his complicated outfit. Yours was much easier to get off. All you did was kick off your slippers and undo your dress in the back and let it pool at your feet.

The whole process took a few minutes and you giggled when you had to help Loki undress.

“This is a mood killer,” Loki sighed.

“It’s okay,” you giggled. You pulled off the last garment including Loki’s underwear and he turned around to let you see him. He was so beautiful, every single thing about him. You could definitely believe he was a god, because he sure looked like one. Your wandering eyes made him chuckle, but he couldn’t say anything because he was doing the same.

His hands hovered over your hips, almost like he was afraid to touch you or else you would crumble in front of him. You smiled up Loki and put your hands over his, guiding them to your bare skin. He sharply inhaled as he felt how smooth and warm your skin was. He let out a small laugh in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine himself ever being so lucky as to have you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. He lifted you up again and walked over to your bed until his knees hit the edge. He crawled on and lowered you down onto the fluffy pillows. Your body was on display for him and he was completely swooning over you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in awe.

“And you,” you reached up and pulled him closer to you by his shoulders, “are very handsome.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Since he was already down there he crept lower and lower, placing gentle kisses from your cheek all the way down to your lower stomach. Your breath hitched as his breath fanned over your vagina. He gave it a small kiss before he leaned back. He replaced his mouth with his fingers, sliding them up and down your folds before inserting one.

He surveyed your face as he began to curl his finger making you start moaning quietly.

“Does it feel good?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes,” you moaned out.

He smiled and continued to work you up, building the pressure inside your lower stomach. You couldn’t keep your eyes open. You tried to, but with all the new feelings going on you were squeezing them shut. Loki frowned and cupped your cheek with his hand, rubbing it with his thumb.

“Princess, will you look at me?” he asked. You opened your eyes and did as he asked. You kept your eyes open but your lids were only half open.

You loved the way his fingers felt but you wanted more- you wanted him. “Loki- Loki I want you inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

He pulled his fingers out and wrapped that hand around his cock, pumping it and getting it ready to be inside you. He spread your legs further than they already were and walked forward on his knees until his tip was right against your entrance. You put his hand around it and guided it in slowly, letting you adjust to the length.

Your hands were on either side of your pillow and you were squeezing it. It wasn’t very painful, but it didn’t feel right to just have your hands open, so you clenched them around your silk pillowcase. Loki saw them and put his own hands on top of yours. As he rolled his hips into you that’s what kept him stable.

“Darling, you make me feel-” he moaned, “so good.”

The inside of you was warm and velvety, encasing his dick in a personal heaven. In just a few minutes he knew what was going to come. Him.

Loki was making you feel just as good as you were making him, if not better. You weren’t a virgin. You had lived long enough to want men and take them back home with you. But none of them were making you feel the way Loki was. He knew exactly what to do, what pace to go at, and all the right words to say. The gentle moans and vulnerable face were so beautiful above you that tears were staining your cheeks.

Worry crossed Loki’s face, he thought you were hurting. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

“I’m fine, you’re just- you’re so beautiful.”

He choked out a laugh and regained his original pace. The compliment had warmed his entire body. He was on cloud nine. There was a growing sensation in his lower region and he could feel his orgasm coming.

“I’m about to cum,” he panted.

“Go ahead darling, cum for me,” you returned. His eyes widened but he went ahead, cock stiffening before releasing his cum.

You moaned, head falling to the side from the buzz traveling through your body. You arched your back in an attempt to hurry your own orgasm along. You could feel it approaching but it couldn’t get there soon enough for you. Loki thrusted faster and tried to hit that spot that he knew you had. He succeeded, and an overwhelming pleasure drifted through you.

Your walls clenched around his dick and your own juices squirted out. You sniffed and wiped your tears, opening your eyes to see Loki’s face in complete and utter amazement. You laughed a little as he pulled out of you and rolled over to be by your side.

“What was that face for?” you asked.

“That was the best I’ve ever felt. You are… perfect in every way.”

“I feel the same about you.” You turned on your side and placed a hand on his cheek, just like he had done to you a few minutes prior.

He nuzzled closer to you, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll come back for you. I promise,” he whispered.

“I’ll be waiting,” you responded while stroking his hair.

Taglist: @deanscroissant

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melwilson · 3 years

Text

lonely people | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

rating: fluff

warnings: slow burn. kinda long.

a/n: i’m not dead. i just had zero inspiration. here’s to me kinda getting my groove back. it took me way too long to finish this, but i think y’all will like it. it’s one of my faves.

People were...people.

And people were complicated.

That’s all you could really say to describe your relationships, or lack thereof. You could blame it on your social anxiety or undeveloped communication skills or just the sole fact that you strongly despised the human race. In fact, you could spend the rest of your life alone in your apartment and you’d be fine, but your therapist mentioned that loneliness was damaging. No one deserves to be alone, she had said. Maybe she was right, you just shrugged it off. You had been alone most of your life. It wasn’t something that you shut the door on like a nosy neighbor. You welcomed the solace being alone provided. A comfort and a calm that couldn’t be interrupted. However, the words of your therapist seemed to etch themselves permanently in the back of your mind. You could hear her calm, almost motherly, voice as you carried on with your week.

You need friends, Y/n. You need people that you can relate to and depend on. I’m the only human contact you get every week and yes, you can depend on me, but you need someone else. Anyone else.

You sighed, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to rid your mind of her voice. Making friends was something children did. You were a grown ass adult who still panicked when it was your turn to pay in the grocery line. Getting to know someone required putting yourself out there. Being vulnerable, but before that you just actually had to talk...to another human. Which you weren’t good at. But maybe, just maybe, Dr. Smith’s voice would go away if you gave it a shot.

So, you got up and got dressed in your favorite hoodie and jeans and topped it off with a pair of hightop converse. You weren’t exactly sure where you were going to go, but the coffee shop down the street was always your first stop before you went anywhere. It was apart of the routine. No, it didn’t inspire change. It was small and quiet, the people were nice, and the coffee was five star. It was the perfect place for you to pop in every now and then and gain that sense of familiarity. You ordered the same thing every time; vanilla sweet cream cold brew. The first time you walked in, it’s the what the barista recommended. You figured that he knew best, so you went with it. Now, every time you grace the coffee shop with your presence, you don’t even make it up to the counter before they start on your order.

“How’ve you been, Y/n?” Your favorite barista, Donnie, wore a kind smile as you leaned against the counter. He was a tall redhead who always seemed to be working the same days you went in. It was comforting and regular.

“Good,” you said honestly, “Sorry, I haven’t come down to see you. I bought the Keurig you recommended. It works wonders for an introverted individual.”

Donnie chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re saying it’s my fault?”

“Precisely,” You hummed as he slid you your daily dose of caffeine. “You’re the best, Don.” You slid him a ten and he just glanced up at you. “On the house...I know,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “It’s a tip.” Before he could protest, you were half way out the door and stepping out onto the busy Brooklyn streets. Immediately, you shoved your left hand in your hoodie pocket, making your body as small as possible. Trying to walk through downtown Brooklyn would have been impossible for you a year ago. It was too crowded, too many bodies, too much noise. It was overwhelming. Even now, it still overwhelmed you, but your sessions with Dr. Smith had made controlling your anxiety easier.

Taking a hard right, you cut through an empty alley that was a shortcut to your apartment. You had gotten out of your house today. That was enough for you. Tomorrow, you had a session with Dr. Smith.

The office building that Dr. Smith worked in was nice. Really nice. The whole building was reinforced glass, whites, grays, and blacks bringing to the modern feel. It was a great contrast to the red, brick buildings that bore the history of the city. Today, the sun radiated throughout the whole building bringing it’s warmth and a multitude of people with it. There were different businesses in the building, a dentist on floor eight and an insurance company on floor ten, so, naturally there were always people in and out of the elevator. Today, though, there was a lot of people. You had managed to squeeze your way to the back, your shoulders brushing over the ones next to you. You fingers meddled with the gold rings that you rarely took off, eyes casted at the floor. Your breathing was quick and shallow and the small child who couldn’t seem to take their eyes off of you only made it worse.

When the elevator dinged and a bright red ‘NINE’ ran across the screen, you shoved your way out of the steal box and tumbled into the waiting room. You were almost gasping for air as you approached the front desk.

“Too many people?”

You nodded meeting a pair of green eyes. Cynthia was probably the nicest lady you had ever met. She was nearing 40 and married with a couple of a kiddos that you seen running around the offices. She wore a kind smile and had a soothing voice that you could listen to all day. “You changed you hair color?” Her usual brown hair, was now blonde with brown highlights. It was pretty, but it was different.

“Yeah,” Cynthia sighed, running a hand through her long locks, “Ready for a change, I suppose.”

You nodded, signing your name on the check-in sheet.

Change. Even the thought made you wanna puke. Brooklyn, New York had been your home all of the 25 years you had been alive. You knew the streets like the back of your hand. You knew what diners were the best, how to get from one place to another without getting stuck in traffic, the best and worst places to live, the names of the all the older men and women whose businesses were still kicking. Brooklyn was all you had ever known. It’s all you wanted to know. You didn’t want different. You didn’t want something you would have to get used to, something you would have to learn. You had discovered that even the smallest inconveniences were hard for you deal with. Like right now, two teenagers were in your seat. The black leather couch that you had grown accustomed to was taken. You stopped, your breath hitching ever-so slightly. The only available spot was next to a man with cropped brown hair and a brooding appearance that made you want to settle for the tile floors.

Get over yourself, L/n, you said to yourself. The man only glanced at you when you sat down next to him. He shuffled over to give you more space and that’s when you noticed his gloved hands. It was 60 degrees out and sunny. Why this man was wearing gloves, you weren’t going to ask. You just shrunk further into your seat, your knee bouncing with every second that ticked by. A few minutes passed and you could feel the man’s eyes on you. You caught a glimpse of his steel blue eyes before he looked away.

“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath.

You shook your head. “Uh, don’t worry about it.”

Minutes of uncomfortable silence seemed to go on forever until your name was called. You stood up wiping the imaginary dust off your jeans, not sparing the unknown man a glance before disappearing down the hallway.

“Make any friends this week?” Dr. Smith asked. Her glasses were perched atop of her nose, her brown eyes already searching for a lie.

“I went to see Donnie.”

She rolled her eyes, clicking her pen twice. “Did you make any new friends?”

You sighed, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. “I talked to a guy in the lobby before today’s session.”

Dr. Smith hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get this guys name or number?”

“No, but he wore gloves. Who wears gloves in the middle of spring?” You asked, more to yourself than to the shrink.

“That’s James,” Dr. Smith revealed. Her first name was Marlinda, most called her Mar. “War vet. He doesn’t get out much either. You two might be good for each other. I want you to talk to him.”

You groaned. “Mar-“

“Y/n. You are 25 years and have no friends. No one to talk to. You. Are. Alone. And I know that’s hard for you to hear and you may not understand nor realize it. I want you to have a life, Y/n. I want you experience things without being crippled by your anxiety. But it’s going to take work. Work that you have to do. There are mountains you’ll have to go over and valleys you’ll need to travel through. But I will not allow you to let your anxiety control you.”

You swallowed thickly, Dr. Smith’s words hitting you like a ton of bricks. Her words were genuine. She wanted to see you be free, but they were stern. You met her eyes before glancing out the window. “I’m trying, Mar. I just don’t know how to do it.”

“Start by getting James’ number. I expect good news next week.” You nodded, standing to your feet. You stuffed your hands into the pocket of your hoodie as you trudged over to the door. “And Y/n?”

You turned around raising an eyebrow.

“You’re more than your anxiety.” Mar’s voice was soft and didn’t have the edge to it like it usually did. You could only send her half a smile before grabbing the door handle and walking out of the office.

It rained for three days straight after your session with Mar. You spent those three days moping in your apartment. Most of time, the rain didn’t bother you. You loved the rain. You loved the cozy atmosphere and the peace those gray, rumbling clouds brought. You would always turn on a good movie or pick out a book to read. You sighed as you read the same line for nearly the tenth time. Your mind was elsewhere. It was cluttered. Dr. Smith’s words rolling around in your head like a bowling ball. You’re more than your anxiety.

“For goodness sake,” you muttered under your breath. You stood up from your couch and made your way into your room. “This’ll have to do.” You were in a pair of light wash jeans, a plain back tee, windbreaker on top, and the same pair of converse from a few days ago. You grabbed your phone, keys, and wallet before heading out the door. The rain had slowed down just enough for you to reach Brooklyn Roasting Company. As soon as you stepped in the door, the floodgates opened and thunder rumbled in the sky. You shrugged off your jacket as you approached the counter, catching the sight of the familiar mop of red hair.

“I get to see you twice in a week,” Donnie said catching your gaze. “Someone’s getting adventurous.”

You scoffed, a small smile playing on your lips. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I’ll grab your cold brew, but I hope that you didn’t plan on sitting in your usual seat.”

You furrowed your eyebrows following Donnie’s gaze to the man sitting in your seat..the one next to the window. You recognized the cropped brown hair, sharp jawline, and gloved hands.

“You think you could bring that cold brew to my table?”

“Yeah, give me a couple of minutes.”

You muttered thanks.

Start by getting James’ number...

You’re more than your anxiety.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your feet carrying you over to the table James was sitting at. You cleared your throat when he didn’t notice you at first. His eyes ran over your frame, a hint of confusion mixing in with the ocean blue.

“H-hi,” your voice was soft and you smiled, nervousness laced in your eyes. “Do you, uh, mind if I sit here?”

James’ eyes looked at the empty tables behind you and then to the seat across from him. “No. It’s all yours.” An awkward silence fell between the two of you, your eyes focused on the rain drops rolling down the windows.

“Vanilla sweet cream cold brew for the pretty lady,” Donnie said, interrupting the silence.

“Thanks, Don,” you said with a small smile. He nodded mouthing, ‘good luck,’ before sending you a wink and heading back into the kitchen.

“You’re the girl from the therapists office?” James’ voice was deep and smooth.

You nodded taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m Y/n.”

“Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you repeated, his name falling effortlessly from your lips. You both liked the way it rolled off your tongue so easily. You glanced out the window and then back at Bucky. He looked tired, dark circles starting to form under his eyes, but that didn’t take away from his striking features. There was a light stubble lining his jawline almost up to his high cheek bones. His blue eyes stuck out against his pail skin, long eyelashes grazing his skin when he blinked. He wore the same black jacket he had adorned at therapy, black jeans, and black combat boots. You could see a dark blue shirt poking out at the top, dog tags hanging loosely around his neck. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

“The pleasure is mine, Y/n.”

Bucky couldn’t get his knee to stop moving. Up and down, up and down. Faster and faster. He was waiting. Waiting for you. You ended up spending nearly an hour at the coffee shop together. Few words were exchanged, but neither of you really desired to talk. It was the presence of another person that both of you were content with. Bucky glanced at the clock, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth. He had ten minutes before his session and he really wanted to see you. Another minute passed and soon enough you were stepping out of the elevator. At just the sight of you, Bucky’s knee came to slow, his shoulders relaxing.

“Hi,” you said softly. You sounded almost out of breath, your chest rising and falling quicker than normal.

Bucky sent you a small tug of his lips as you sat down next to him. “Hey.” No other words were exchanged.

The following week, you were late and missed getting a chance to see Bucky before your session.

“I made a friend...I think,” you told Mar.

“James?” Mar questioned.

“Bucky,” you corrected sitting back in your seat.

A small but proud smile graced Mar’s lips. You didn’t realize it, but there was an ever so small light in your eyes that she saw. A light that she had been trying to dig out of you since your first session. “And did you get Bucky’s number?”

You shook your head. “I talked to him though. I took the first step and asked if I could sit at his table. I sit next to him in the waiting room before sessions. He’s- he’s nice.”

“There was a time when I thought your smile would never reach your eyes,” Mar said honestly. “I’m glad to see you’ve changed my mind.”

The next week, you got there before Bucky. You were half and hour early. Why?

You wanted to spend time with a friend.

Ten minutes later, Bucky stepped out of the elevator his eyes searching the room until they landed on you.

“You didn’t come last week.”

You slid over so the brunette could sit. “I didn’t miss. I was late.” Bucky hummed. “You miss me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, L/n,” the man scoffed.

“You can admit it. Besides, it’s nice to know someone enjoys having me around. I like having you around too.”

Cynthia called your name before Bucky got a chance to respond. You stood up, sending him a smile before disappearing down the hallway.

“Leaving so soon?”

You jumped, your hand flying to your chest, heart beating wildly. You turned to face Bucky who was leaning against the glass building, a smug smile playing on his lips.

“What the hell, Barnes?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Bucky said pushing himself off the wall. The sunlight only seemed to illuminate Bucky’s features further.

“Yes, you did,” you deadpanned.

“You’re right,” Bucky shrugged, “I did.”

You rolled your eyes continuing down the street. Bucky caught up with you quickly, his stride matching yours. “What do you want, Buck?”

“I wanna...hang.”

You stopped in your tracks, your eyes narrowing. “You want to...hang?”

“Um, yeah. If-if that’s okay with you.” Bucky seemed nervous as you guys moved out of the way of those trying to avoid you.

Your eyes softened. “That’s more than okay with me, Bucky. You got anywhere in mind?”

“You’re place?”

Bucky was in your space. Your space. If someone didn’t out right tell what they were really like, their home definitely did.

It smells good in here, Bucky thought to himself. Your apartment was exactly how Bucky pictured it to be. Simple, yet organized. The living room held a gray couch and two plush chairs, a TV mounted on the wall. A glass coffee table sat in the middle, a few books and a half consumed coffee cup on top. You dropped your jacket over the back of the couch, noticing how Bucky was still standing by your door.

“Can I get you anything?” You offered.

Bucky shifted his weight into his right leg. “I’ll take a water.”

As you reached into the refrigerator, you could hear Bucky’s footsteps against the hardwood floors. When you looked up, he had taken a seat at the countertop, his jacket and gloves still on. You tossed him the water which he caught with ease.

“What?” Bucky asked. Your arms were crossed over your chest, that look of curiosity that he had grown to recognize on your face.

“You gonna take your jacket off?”

“I’m comfortable,” Bucky shrugged.

“I’ve known you for a month, James.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed at the use of first name. “What could be so bad that you have to hide it from me?”

Bucky was quiet for a moment and when he looked at you there was a sadness laced in his eyes. “A lot.”

You pushed yourself off the counter moving to sit next to the larger man. “We’re both messed up, Buck. If I can’t handle your flaws, then I shouldn’t call myself your friend. Look, you don’t have to tell me or show me, but you’re kinda all I got so I’m always gonna be here.”

“I just need some time,” Bucky said softly.

You nodded placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Come on,” you gestured towards the tv, “You said you wanted to hang.”

This hang out continued. Every week, Bucky would come and spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with you after therapy. He slowly started to loosen up around you and you around him.

“So, he’s your best friend?” Mar asked.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, “You could put it like that.”

Mar stared at you for a moment, her eyes studying your face. You shifted in your seat, your knee bouncing slightly. Her stare made you uncomfortable. She knew you better than anyone so whatever she was going to say was going to hit you deep. “You like him.”

You choked on air, your eyes wide. “I- what?”

Mar rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Y/n. You’ve fallen for him.”

“Mar-“

“Y/n, it’s okay,” she said noticing the scared look laced in your eyes. “You’re allowed to feel again. You know, when you walked into this office you only spoke...maybe ten words to me. You hated it. You hated me. You didn’t want to trust anyone because you lost someone.”

“...I lost everyone,” you said softly.

“I know,” Mar agreed, “but you allowed yourself to let Bucky in and you’ve only known him for two months. He’s special to you-“

“He’s all that I have, Mar.”

“So why not give him all that you have?”

There were tears threatening to spill. “Because everyone that I’ve ever loved, I’ve lost.”

“But it wasn’t your fault. What happened to your dad came with the job, okay? And we both know that it’s better that your mom was not in your life. And your grandparents? They hung on until you were legally an adult. Loss is apart of life, Y/n. It’s not something you can run from and hope never happens.”

“But it hurts,” your voice was barely above a whisper, but the pain was there.

“It’s supposed to because you cared. I know that you’re scared, but you and James both deserve someone who cares and loves unconditionally.”

The next day, there was a knock on your door.

“It’s open!” you called from the couch. You knew Bucky was planning to come over. He had texted you a few hours before asking what you wanted from the coffee shop. You heard the door slam shut and Bucky’s shuffling from behind the couch.

“Hey,” he said. He extended his arm to hand you your cold brew except in front of you was metal. Your eyes raked up the metal arm until you met Bucky’s blue eyes. His bottom lip was tugged between his teeth, jacket and gloves discarded. He was waiting for your reaction. Waiting for you to kick him out and tell him that you never wanted to see him again in account of what he had done. But that didn’t happen.

“I knew it,” you muttered softly.

Bucky was tense as he sat down next to you. “You knew what?”

“I’m not an idiot, Bucky. I started to piece things together. The gloves, the jacket, your overall hatred for humanity..”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

“Because I knew that you’d tell me when you were comfortable,” you shrugged. You sank down in your seat taking a drink of your coffee.

You could see from your peripheral, Bucky setting his coffee on the table, his body moving closer to yours, knees touching. He took your hand in his metal one squeezing it gently. “Thank you.”

You responded by bring the black and gold metal to your lips. The gesture caused both you and Bucky to freeze. Neither of you were used to displays of affection, giving or receiving. It wasn’t hard to tell that both of you were touch deprived and longing for something gentle and real. Even though Bucky couldn’t really feel your kiss, the gesture was enough for him to realize how special you were. His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he craved more. He wanted to feel every inch of you, not just your body, but your heart, and your soul. He wanted to know you, all of you. He wanted to know how you liked your eggs cooked, your favorite song, what books you were reading, what made you laugh, what made you cry, your favorite places to eat, your favorite movies. Bucky wanted you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, the heat crawling up your neck. “I- it felt right. Everything with you feels right.” Bucky could sense that there was more you wanted to say, so he stayed silent, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. “When I met you, I wasn’t looking for anything. I actually was against relationships as a whole. But then I met you. And that was...it just happened, I guess. I found myself wanting to spend time with you. And then I found myself falling for you. It was simple and easy. I was comfortable. I think that’s how the best relationships start. You’re not looking and then there’s something. Someone. You’re my someone.”

Bucky’s heart swelled at your confession. God, I don’t deserve her, he thought to himself. He didn’t think that it was possible to have someone feel that way about him, nor did you think it was possible to feel the way you felt about Bucky.

“This whole relationship thing...I don’t really know how to do it,” Bucky said, his voice low and laced with a kind of disappointment. “I’m not sure I remember how to love or what it’s like to be loved, but I’m will to try for you. You’re all I got and you’re all I want, Y/n L/n.”

You sent him a sweet smile, a smile that reached your eyes and was filled with warmth. Suddenly, the distance between you was slim to none, your breaths mingling together. Bucky’s hands had found themselves gripping at your waist pulling you impossibly close. You were hoping he couldn’t hear your thundering heartbeat, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth. Before you lost the courage, you pressed your lips softly against Bucky’s. It was as if time stopped for this moment. The kiss was sweet, the feeling strange and foreign but you welcomed the change. Your lips seemed to fit together perfectly as Bucky took the lead, clearly more experienced. When you pulled away, Bucky grunted chasing your lips hungry for more.

“Damn,” you muttered, chest heaving. “That was...nice?”

“Nice?” Bucky laughed. It was probably the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. “You’re an angel, ya know that?”

A shy smile tugged at your cheeks as you placed your head on Bucky’s shoulder. You two had a lot to learn about yourselves, about each other, about relationships. And you were scared....terrified. But as you sat there, a warm feeling turning in your stomach, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, you decided that the risk was worth it. And the man next to you was worth everything.

—

tag list: @hellishseaqueen

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #fatws #fatws bucky #avenger imagines #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction

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rexx-lapis · 3 years

Text

Sensei // Gojo Satoru x Reader

-> Satoru and you haven’t seen each other since you graduated from the academy. But somehow he never really left your mind. What happens now that you are a strong and confident exorcist and that your sensei finally notice you ?

Tags: Takes place during the school tournament but is canon divergent, Smut, age gap but the reader is in their early 20s, gender neutral reader and use of the pronouns they/them, voyeurism, sex without protection, Use of the word slut, SENSEI KINK, mention of fight, murder and injuries, the reader wears an eyepatch cause it’s cool, Gojo POV, mutual pinning.

Satoru liked his life as it was. His job as a teacher was great, not too complicated and allowed him to stay close to the higher ups. In the end, it was not too demanding and in the exception of watching over Itadori just to make Sukuna wasn’t wilding out, it was pretty chill. He liked that. Since his graduation he had chose to live his life without worrying too much. There was not a lot of things that could hurt him, he knew how powerful he was, so all he had to worry about was literally insignificant. He was just being his real playful self, most people deemed him childish, and he kinda was. In the end everyone kept in their mind that he was the most powerful sorcerer out there. It wasn’t ego, he was just being self aware. Even in more trivial thing, nature had made it easy for him. Women were often falling into his arms without him doing anything. His easy going personality was just a bonus. He was just having fun, not wanting to engage in any type of serious relationship that was obviously not compatible with his lifestyle. He wasn’t an idiot, having a significant other meant exposing himself to pain and offering to his enemies a way of pressure. It was already difficult enough with his students, he was not sure he’ll be able to protect someone else at all time. And there was no way he would let go of his job. In the end even for his good looks, not a lot of people would be willing to risk their life. Or maybe it was just the fact that he had the reputation of being a player and that no one was willing to be used. This morning he woke up tired, the night before he has been forced to go on a special mission before the beginning of the tournament between Tokyo’s college and Kyoto’s one. The students were all here now, and ready to begin. Several teacher were sitting in front of the screens that would allow them to follow the different students. He recognized everyone, even the old Yoshinobu Gakuganji, that he preferred to see in the same room. He didn’t trust the old men and he already knew he was up to something. He settled down looking around him waiting for the beginning of the first trial.Until he saw you. You were entering the room, looking in front of you. Your face was familiar but he couldn’t really tell where he knew you from. You were wearing a black uniform characteristic of the jujutsu sorcerer. You stoped in front of Iori, greeting her. The woman seemed to know you as she simply smiled and offered you a sit next to her. You looked around, your eyes falling on him, and you simply nodded your head in his direction.

“Hello Gojo sensei”

This voice. Yeah he definitely knew you.

“ Well hello -

-Y/n Y/l/n”

Yeah he remembered you now. You went to Tokyo’s academy, but you were a few years younger than him. He had already graduated a few years before and was starting to be a teacher when you integrated the school. You were so young back then, sixteen maybe, now you looked so mature. Beautiful truly. Even with the eye patch hiding your left eye, he could see how beautiful you were. He simply smiled, nodding.

“Long time no see Y/n.

- Indeed”

You did not say anything else simply sitting down, Iori was looking angry, and started grumbling at you, probably asking where you knew him from. You simply looked at her, not having the time to say anything as the screens light up. Satoru did not realized right away, but turning around he saw the old Gakuganji looking at you, a dark look in his eyes. You did not even look in his direction. Something was up between you two for sure. The trials began and soon Satoru realized something was wrong. That old sneaky bastard had definitely ask his student to kill Itadori. He sighed, frustrated but not surprised. You on the other hand seemed way more bothered by the idea.

“ Why does it feel like a set up to me?”

Iori tensed next to you but no one answered. You didn’t say anything else. Satoru couldn’t help but wonder why you came here. Indeed the tournament was an interesting thing to watch but you were not a teacher, or at least not that he knew of. What were you doing here, sweet, innocent y/n. You couldn’t possibly be one of the guard dog of the higher ups.

“Megumi is for sure very impressive.

-You know him? asked Iori

-I worked with his dad once. They don’t seem to have much in common at first but...

-You know Toji Fushiguro ?”asked Gojo suddenly sitting up straight on his chair

“I met him once, I wish I did not tho

-He tends to do this to people”

Your conversation was cut off by a noise and a flash of smoke. The red parchment that were stuck on the wall had caught on fire.

“What’s happening?

-The trials are already over?

-No, something is wrong.

-Apparently, some curses came uninvited”

You stood up, visibly not phased by this. What were you hiding?

“ We should go, at least rescue the students. If the curses are too powerful they won’t stand a chance.”

They split in several groups, and they started to run, hopefully joining their students before it was too late. Sadly nothing happened like Satoru imagined. First, a sort of black veiled recovered the place of the tournament. The more frustrating was that everyone seemed to be able to cross it except for him. Satoru find himself stuck outside unable to do anything. Behind his smile, he was worried. Was he really going to send Iori and the old man in this situation alone. And you. What about you. You did not seemed phased one bit by the situation, but he couldn’t help but wonder if you were not going to be more of a burden. After all you still were young. But he couldn’t tell you to stay back, and if you were here it was because you were qualified to do your job. The three of you disappeared behind the veil. It wasn’t often he felt helpless but right now he definitely did. After several minutes later he saw Panda come from behind the veil, Megumi in one arm, and Maki in the other. They were both severely injured but their life was not threatened now that they were being taken care of. Soon after Nishimiya carrying Noriyoshi and Inumaki flied through the veil, almost crashing on the ground. Being the only one still conscious, Nishimiya told him how she saw Itadori and Todo fighting a grade s curse when she was flying away. The more Satoru was thinking about it the more it sounded fishy. But he didn’t even had the time to thing this through before the veil disappeared. The old man was standing there with what seemed to be the corpse of man.

“They ran to see if they could find the two other brats. Go and see how they are doing.”

Satoru didn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence and started running. He felt a burst of cursed energy and decided he should check it out. He arrived to see Itadori and Todo hurt, Iori trying to help them stand up.

“Where is the curse ?”

Iori gasped, face suddenly tensed. She looked scared. She simply pointed at the empty air. It has been dealt with apparently. But you weren’t here.

“Where is Y/n?

-They left. They ran in this direction.

-Everyone is already out” he threw his phone at her, “call the old man or one of your student so they can help you with those two.”

He had to find you. He took him a couple of minutes to catch up on you, you had not got that far. You seemed completely normal, not even a micro injury. The only thing was that your right sleeve had been torned exposing your arm. You turned around facing him. You did not say anything just walking toward him. There was no trace of another curse. He was going to ask you what happened when you lifted your arm silencing him. Your phone buzzed in you pocket.

“Hello sir.”

He could not hear what was being said on the other side. But he could easily guessed it was one of your superior.

“The curse has been eliminated. It was a grade s. The students are safe, and the ones that are injured will be okay. Very well.”

You marked a pause, your eyes darting on his face, wondering if you could keep talking even though he was still here. He had no intention of going anywhere though.

“ Yes, Mahito escaped...”

You expression hardened.

“ I know... next time...”

You simply hanged up, finally turning to face Satoru.

“We can go, there’s nothing left here. They’re gone.”

He simply nodded.

“ I knew it was weird. Why would you even bother to come all this way to witness the tournament. I mean, it can be quite enjoyable but, you seem rather occupied.”

You didn’t say anything. You changed so much, what happened to joyful, cute Y/n, he wondered.

“ You were using the tournament as a way to attract Mahito ?

-No. I just knew he was gonna be here eventually.

-Why are you looking for him.

-Who isn’t looking for him at this point.

-Hmm, no, I feel like it’s personal.”

You clenched your jaw.

“He killed my team mates. Three months ago.”

Oh, that explained the dark energy coming out of you.

“So it is personal.

-You could say that”

You didn’t say a word, the weight of what you saw like a failure heavy on your shoulders. Satoru knew that better than anyone. The tournament was canceled and rescheduled. And weirdly enough, you did not left the academy at the same time as the Kyoto staff. You said your farewell to Iori and the students, returning later to your now assigned room. Satoru knew that if you were still here, it was because you had been assigned a new mission.

“You are still tagging along?”

You turned around, stopping your writing almost instantly. You might have been distracted because you did not hear him come in.

“Entering a someone’s room without authorization, sensei, it’s not reasonable.”

He couldn’t tell if you were serious or not. He couldn’t help if your room was next to his. He was curious.

“You are still calling me sensei? I am not your sensei anymore though.

-Officially no, but I am still learning while being here. But I can call you by your name if you prefer”

He actually liked when you called him sensei. He didn’t answer but you caught up pretty quick.

“Let’s stick with sensei then.”

He looked at you over his glasses, scanning your body. You weren’t wearing your uniform but a simple casual outfit. You looked cute. Your face scrunched in an adorable expression as you were concentrating on what you were writing.

“ What are you writing? A love letter to your boyfriend?”

He could almost hear you sight. He smiled, getting comfortable on your bed.

“ I am writing a report.

-About what?

-What happened during the tournament.

-Mahito?

-You could say that.

-Y/n. Could you do something for me?

-Depends.

-If you could not mention in your report what happened between the Kyoto college and Itadori, it would really be nice.

-I don’t understand why you would not want the higher ups to not know that people of our organization are trying to kill a sixteen year old.

-It’s because you are still naive Y/n”

You turned around, visibly angry.

“I am not stupid. I know what they would do to Itadori if they could. I didn’t mentioned the incident in my report.”

He smiled, getting up, getting closer to you.

“ Good” he almost whispered in your ear. He could see your face heat up, but you stayed calm.

“Are you done? Or do you doubt me so much, you want to read my report too.

-I think about you a lot, but not once I’ve doubt you. I don’t know what you did to that curse in front of Itadori but he won’t even talk to me about it”

You smirked.

“Good.”

Satoru’s head was just full of you now. He just couldn’t help it. You were basically living together at this point. Even if he was busy training the first year and mostly Itadori, he was still seeing you from the corner of his eyes. You seemed interested in Itadori’s training, maybe secretly hoping for Sukuna to manifest. You did not seem to care though. You weren’t avoiding him, but you paid him no mind. He saw you multiple times laughing with Itadori, Nobara or Megumi. He even saw you leave with Nanami one evening. You came back late at night, drunk.

“Do you even have the required age to drink?”he asked a disapproving tone in his voice.

“Yes I do... How old do you think I am....

-You’re younger than Nanami, so what were you even doing outside with him”

You pouted, your arm crossing over your chest. Fuck, you were so cute. And you looked so pretty like this. Your hair were kinda messy, your visible eye gleaming. Your lips, fuck, it was kinda hard not to stare at them. Maybe he should be the one going outside, he seemed to need it.

“He just took me out to drink nothing else. And you shouldn’t even talk. That so hypocritical.

-What have I done ?

-You slept with at least three of my friend from graduation”

Ah.

“So I don’t want to here anything else from you”

You sounded kinda angry now. But he couldn’t take you seriously right now. Not when you looked like a angry little kitten.

“I’m going to sleep”

He watched you go, your steps uncertain.

“Y/n, love, your room is the other way.”

You stoped in your track, looking at him, lost.

“I know. I was just playing”

Yes, so cute. He chuckled, deciding to escort you to your room just to make sure.

“Is this because of your friends that you are avoiding me love.

-Yes.

-Why? I didn’t do anything wrong to them? Did I?

-No, but I don’t want to end up sleeping with you”

Ouch, okay.

“After, you’re gonna break my heart and ghost me. No way.”

You arrived in front of your room.

“I would never do that to you love, so, would you go out with me?

-No

-You’re just being a brat right now”

You laughed at him before opening your door.

“Good night Gojo Sensei”

This night signed the beginning of a real nightmare for him. You did not mentioned anything from this night to him after it happened. But fuck he wanted you so much. He felt bad about it, you being so young, he felt like he was going to corrupt you or something. He did not felt like this with any of your friend or his previous one night stands. So why with you? Maybe because he knew you since you were young. You weren’t especially close, you were often with people your age and he was on his side with the other teachers. But now you were an adult, and for what seemed a very strong sorcerer. Sometimes, he was wondering what was happening in his head, when he was taking decisions. Like when he chose to invite a girl over, while you where here, when all he could think about was you. He was doing this to provoke you, or maybe he was just dumb. Fucking her against the wall that was just next to yours was maybe a bit too much, but he still did it somehow. He was sick for this. You on the other side, you wanted to cry and throw yourself through the window. Fuck you could even hear him groan behind all the sound the girl was doing. How thin were those walls? You grabbed your earphones, trying to cancel the noises, but your mind was still full of Satoru. For years you had promise yourself that you won’t be like every other person that had met him. You would never fall in love with him, or want to sleep with him. So why was your heart aching because he was currently fucking someone else. And why you could feel arousal pooling in your belly, your thighs rubbing against one another. You would never do that. Touch yourself. Like this. No. You were better than that.

“Ah fuck...” you heard him moan from the other side.

In the end you were just a weak little human. And soon your hand find the way of your underwear, finally touching the most sensitive place of your body. You were just imagining him in top of you, he would fuck you so good, so full. You could almost feel his weight on your body, his skin against yours. You wished you could say it was the first time you had imagine something like this. But it really wasn’t. Satoru has been haunting your darkest fantasy for a while now, fed now by all the story you’ve heard from your friends.

“Ah fuck, love, do you hear me?”

You stopped breathing, your fingers stopping what they were doing.

“ Fuck love, you look so fucking pretty, spread yourself more for me”

You were so dumb for doing this but you still did, spreading your legs wider, giving yourself a better access.

“ I’m sure you taste so sweet, fuck, if only I could taste you.”

Your fingers were becoming more erratic, pleasure and tension building up between your legs.

“Are you gonna cum love?

-Yes” you cried, your face burning from embarrassment.

You prayed all the gods above that they couldn’t hear you.

“Yeah you’re gonna come for me. So fucking pretty, ah-”

You cried out, the coil in your stomach snapping, your juice flooding out.

“Gojo sensei” you moaned, maybe a bit too loud.

You hear him moan from the other side of the wall, probably reaching his end too. The only thing left of you was exhaustion, sadness and a bit of disgust. You just wanted to sleep. The next day Satoru woke up a bitter sweet taste in his mouth. What happened during the night, he could not explain it. But fuck, he heard you, and he knew you heard him. He hope you knew that every words he said were meant for you. That it was your face that flashed through his mind when he came that night. He find you in the common room, speaking to Itadori, the boy looking a bit down.

“Are you really leaving us soon?

-Yes I already overstepped my boundaries with staying that long. Obviously Mahito is not going to come back any time soon.

-We’ll miss you Y/n!”

You were leaving? It was logical after all. You could not stay here forever. Why did it make him a little bit sad then?

“Leaving already?”

You turned you head toward him, soon avoiding his gaze. He smiled.

“I have to go back to the headquarters as soon as I can. I am leaving for the south tomorrow.

-I see”

You next told everyone that you will go to Tokyo this afternoon because you wanted to buy some stuff before leaving. The first year almost jumped you, begging you to take them with you. Or at least Itadori and Nobara did.

“Kids, Y/n probably wants to spend time alone.

-No it’s fine they can come with me.

-It won’t bother you if I come too then”

Your head lowered, visibly embarrassed. But you didn’t say anything about it. You left to get ready, changing your uniform for some casual clothes, and Satoru thanked all the gods for this. You looked adorable. Your black eyepatch was replaced by a white simpler one, you were wearing a cute outfit, suddenly you were looking more your age.

“Let’s go then”

You stayed silent for most of the trip. Itadori and Nobara were so happy to go out you almost lost them twice in the crowd. Megumi was walking calmly behind them, looking after the two. You stoped a few times to look at some street food, and Satoru couldn’t help but think of this as a kind of date. If only he could hold your hand in his while you strolled through harajuku.

“They look good, don’t they?

Hm, they do, the one with strawberries look really tasty”

He got closer from, his tall form hovering your body. Your back was pressed against his torso and he could feel you tense a bit. He smirked, getting closer, pressing himself against your ass even more. You gasped.

“We’ll take two of the strawberry ones please!” He said smiling, your head shooting up to look at him.

“Sensei...

-Come on Y/n, let me spoil you a bit”

You didn’t say anything else, just pouting looking away from him.

“Their whip cream tastes so good.

-Yes this place is great. There is a mochi place not far away, it’s great too!

-Do you have a sweet tooth sensei?

-I always loved what was sweet”

You snickered a bit not saying anything. You all kept walking for a bit finally deciding to go back to the academy. You were laughing and the mood had obviously lighten up even if you were still distant.

“Did you have a good time ?

-Yes thank you. I’m happy I could have a little break before going back to mission.

-Where are they sending you?

-In China. Mahito is only the tip of the iceberg. Me and several other shaman are sent to hopefully learn some things about the curses there.

-Seems risky.

-It definitely is. I don’t want to be paranoid but I have a feeling they want to maybe silence some of us.

-Oh so you are aware of that.

-I’ve been working for them since I was seventeen. I am well aware of their methods. Mahito might have killed most of my team mates, but we were not supposed to face someone as powerful. At least not when I wasn’t here.

-They got you separated from the group for a while?

-Basically yeah, when I came back most of them were dead, the other quite the job.

-And you still are going to follow their orders?

-I don’t really have a choice. I don’t feel like becoming a target of their wrath” you turned around to face him, “I am not like you”

He took off his blindfold, his eyes falling on your soft face. You gasped a little, almost dropping your ice cream. He came closer, bending his neck a little to look into your eyes.

“Don’t die.

-I don’t plan to.

-Good”

If you ended up dying, maybe he would go and have a little discussion with the so called higher ups of the sorcerer society. He knew you were strong, stronger than most, the way you got rid of the s class curse was still a mystery to him, but he knew that those bastards had very efficient way to get rid of people they deemed too dangerous. If only you could stay here.

“ But you know, if I end up dying there, could you do something for me before.”

He quirked an eyebrow, suspicious.

“Sensei”

His breathing became a little bit more rigged.

“Sensei, could you help me with something?

-Yes, of course”

He didn’t even need to know what you were asking him. He would basically do anything for you at this point. Really everything. You grabbed his shirt, asking him to bend over, his face coming at your level.

“ Sensei, I didn’t even tell you what I wanted yet...

-And what do you want?

-I want you”

He almost chocked on air. He could definitely give this to you.

“You can have me whenever you want love, fuck, you don’t even have to ask.”

He almost ran through the wall while returning to your room. It was empty when he came in. You really were going to leave. He did not have time to think more about it before you jump in his arm, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“ I caught you baby”, he chuckled, “Now, what do you want me to do?”

Your mouth was so close from his, you breath hitting his lips.

“ Tell me sensei, do you like being teased?

-Not really baby

-Me either, but last time, a guy I liked thought it was a good idea to make me know he was fucking someone else.

-This guy is a meanie

-He really is. I was waiting in my room, if he wanted he could have take me. Because I was waiting for him you know

-Oh really?”

You little minx, you were playing with him.

“I had to touch myself all alone in my room you know”

Yeah he was definitely hard now. He dropped you a little lower, your ass pressing against his clothed cock.

“ Sensei, I said no teasing...

-You’re right, no more teasing.”

He let you fall into the bed, laughing a little at your surprised expression. If you didn’t like being teased he wasn’t gonna waste more time. He grabbed your chin firmly in his hand squeezing your cheeks. You looked at him, your hands hesitantly reaching for his blindfold .

“Do it”

You hooked your thumbs under the fabric, slowly taking it off. He saw you eyes widen a little, lips parting slightly. You had already seen him without his blindfold but it seemed so much more intimate now. His beautiful white hair fell on his forehead, azure eyes opening to stare directly into your own.

“My turn”

His hand slide along your cheek, taking of your eye patch. A little scar was crossing your eyelid.

“So pretty” he said smirking, his lips hovering over yours.

You obviously weren’t very patient. The moment he was getting closer, you bite his lower lip, sucking it gently. He could feel your teeth sink into his flesh. You were going to be the death of him. He grabbed your hair firmly, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. Your thighs were parted, his slander hips placed perfectly between them. You tasted so sweet, the taste of ice cream still lingering on your tongue. His favorite dessert truly. He could have kept kissing you forever if he didn’t felt you moving under him, your hips rolling against his crotch. He could feel how much you wanted this. He grabbed your wrist pinning your arms to the mattress. He had no doubt that you were a strong sorcerer but what could you even do against him.

“You want this so bad, you’re starting to behave like a slut.

-I can’t wait anymore. I’ve wait for this for so long.

-Did you?

-Yeah” you moaned shamelessly when he rocked his hips forward. You cried out his name, eyebrows furrowing. He had all the intentions in the world of driving you crazy, teasing you to no ends. But seeing you like this. His poor baby. He wasn’t going to be cruel. Not a lot that is. He let his hands caress your body, watching how you seem to squirm under his touch. You looked so sensitive.

“I’m gonna be nice with you love, but you have to be honest with me.

-W-what? I’d do anything....

-Of course you would.”

He bit your skin near your hip, leaving a mark there. Trailing his way down until he reaches your underwear. He was almost salivating at the view. If your mouth has tasted sweet, he couldn’t wait to taste you more. He spread your legs wider, holding your thighs firmly. His tongue darted out of his mouth, finally touching your flesh. You were so wet, your smell so much stronger there. He saw your hands clapping against your mouth, a little noise escaping you.

“Now you’re gonna have to tell me the truth baby. Do you want me?

-So much! I really want you sensei!

-Since when have you think of me like this?” You looked up to him, your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment.

“Since... We met maybe....

-So fucking naughty... Tell me more....

-Sensei... I wanted you so much back then but you weren’t even looking at me, fuck it feels so good...” He had started sucking at your flesh, toying with the most sensitive part of your body. You were squirming against his touch, but the little noises you were letting out were so sinful.

“I did so many things so you would notice me, haaa, but you didn’t... I know I had to become stronger.

-And now here you are baby, you’ve become so strong, and so good at pretending you don’t want me. I almost believed you in the beginning.”

Knowing that you had fantasied about this since you met him was having an effect on him he should be ashamed of. Your silly little crush on him, and all the thing you probably had thought about in your young mind full of hormones, it was really all he needed to lose all control. His fingers were now trusting deep and fast inside you. You were crying incoherent things, mixes of his name and pleads for more. He was addicted to you, he could stay like this, his mouth and fingers buried deep in your dripping hole, forever. Watching you cum for the second or third time as he laughed at you. He almost forgot how hard it had made him.

“Satoru...

-No more sensei?” he slapped you ass, “don’t be rude with your superior Y/n.

-Please just, more...

-Use your words baby”He was smirking, so cocky about the mess he had made of you.

“Your cock please....”

You didn’t even had to ask him twice. He probably would have made you beg for it if he wasn’t so drunk in you. He unzipped his pants, freeing his member. He was so hard, it was painful. He was so caught up in his thoughts he did not see your hand coming closer. He jolted, tensing, a little growl almost escaping his mouth, when you took his cock in your hand.

“Fuck, Y/n, don’t sneak on me like that...

-You’re so hard sensei...

-Yeah baby, it’s because of you, you made sensei like this...

-Can I taste you, I want you in my mouth”, you proceed to stick your tongue out, a bit of saliva dripping from it. You were gonna kill him. He wanted nothing more than to fuck your face. But right now all his thoughts were on your slutty little hole. Definitely later. He grabbed your legs, making you fell back into the mattress. He bent your legs, your upper thighs pressed against your chest. You were so exposed. He couldn’t wait any longer, his hips rocking forward, his cock entering you mercilessly. You gasped, air leaving your lungs. He felt so big inside you, so hard and heavy.

“You’re literally creaming around me already, are you gonna cum?”

He was smiling, but inside he was screaming . Why were you still so tight. So fucking warm, your slimy walls were sucking him in. He knew now, that he could stay buried balls deep inside you forever. He pressed his hips even more against you, his hips trusting hard against you. The noise of your juices and skin clapping against one another was obscene, but so addictive. He was hitting so deep, from this angle, rubbing against your walls. He grabbed your arms, letting your legs go. You were now sitting on his lap, chest pressed against his. The change of angle had made you moan even louder. It felt so much more intimate for some reason. His grip on your ass forcing you to impale yourself on his member. You were going to cum. You felt it, deep inside.

“Cum for me baby.”

You didn’t need anything else, as you press your forehead on his neck, moaning his name your body trembling against his. You felt him tense against you, his pace getting quicker and deeper. You were crying from overstimulation when he finally cum inside you, growling in you ear. You fell limb in his arms, empty of your energy. Satoru kissed you before laying you down on your bed. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to your mouth. You kissed his knuckles gently. His heart swell at that, not wanting to leave your side. That was how he find himself staying all night with you. You woke him up again a few hours later, you were looking all hot and bothered again. How could he say no to his baby. You spent the night like this, between cuddling and sleeping.

That’s why he was so surprised to see you weren’t there when he woke up. He had forgot you were supposed to leave early in the morning. He stood up, understanding how empty the room now felt. He walked toward the desk where his clothes had been folded. He took the little piece of paper, realizing you probably had left it here for him. He laughed, reading it. He knew you were strong. He just had to wait a little bit for you to come back. He knew you would.

#jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen one shot #jjk #Gojo Satoru #gojo Satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo sensei #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #jjk gojo

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

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Better Than Sex

Author: SisterSpooky1013

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 1666

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Read it on AO3

“Better Than Sex Cake” Mulder read aloud from the menu before looking across the table at Scully with his eyebrows raised in question.

They had just concluded an evening traipsing through an (alleged) actual ghost town, though no signs of ghosts were to be seen. Just a lot of graffiti, dirty mattresses and a used condom or two. Now they were sitting at the first diner they came across, Mo’s Café, and Mulder was considering the sex cake.

“Knock yourself out, Mulder, I’m sticking to coffee.”

“You aren’t curious as to whether this cake is, in fact, better than sex?”

“Well I’m sure it’s better than bad sex, but if it were better than great sex the population would die out because everyone would skip procreating and just eat cake.”

Mulder considered her statement. “Isn’t ‘bad sex’ somewhat of an oxymoron?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Are you being serious?”

Now it was his turn to look incredulous. “The only bad sex is no sex, as far as I’m concerned.”

Scully shook her head ruefully. “Must be nice to be a man.”

Just then the waitress came by to take their order. Scully requested coffee and dry toast, while Mulder opted for coffee and the aforementioned sex cake. After she collected their menus and retreated to the kitchen, Mulder eyed Scully appraisingly, gaging her mood. Sometimes she was open and willing to talk about things of a personal or private nature, other times she kept her lips as tight as a steel trap. He suspected he might have a chatty Scully on his hands, and didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, Scully, there would be a circumstance under which you would choose a piece of cake over sex?”

She screwed up her mouth a little, not in consideration of how to answer the question, but whether to answer it at all. “Depends who the sex is with, I suppose, but yes, I could think of a few times where cake would have been a more enjoyable option.”

“Hm” was his only reply as he sat back against the seat of the booth, absorbing this information.

“Are you saying you’ve never had sex that was subpar enough that cake would have been better?”

He pulled in a deep breath and looked to the ceiling briefly, and she could imagine him running through his mental file of sexual encounters. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Is it wrong that I feel compelled to kick you right now?” She asked, just a hint of playfulness in her voice.

He laughed.“I’m not saying that every single time was Oscar-worthy, but even the worst was still better than some flour and butter.”

“And they say male privilege isn’t real” she deadpanned as the waitress came by to present them with two coffees, cake, toast and a tray of sugar and cream. She mixed the accoutrements into her cup while Mulder sipped his black, followed by a bite of the cake, which looked like a basic white cake with some kind of custard and whipped cream on top.

“This is pretty good, though I can’t say it lives up to its name” he said around the food in his mouth, pushing the plate towards her and holding out the fork suggestively. She took it and stabbed a small bite, meeting Mulder’s eye as she pulled the tines from between her lips. It was good, as most cake is, but nothing to write home about.

“Well?” He asked expectantly.

“Well what? She returned, wiping her finger at the corners of her mouth.

“Is it better than sex?”

She paused before answering, knowing that Mulder was going to keep picking at this until it got uncomfortable. He liked to do that, to see how far he could get her to go before she blushed and demanded they change the subject. He took immense pleasure in making her squirm, and even more in getting her to reveal something personal that he normally wouldn’t be privy to. Sometimes, she had as much fun indulging him as he did in goading her. She wasn’t above sharing something that she knew would shock him, just so she could see the look on his face. She liked that she could still surprise him.

“Not better than all sex, but certainly better than some of the sex I’ve had, regrettably.”

“What would make sex so bad that cake is better? I must know.”

“I think you can use your imagination, Mulder.”

“Come on, Scully, you could be saving some poor woman from ‘worse than cake’ sex with me in the future. Consider it an act of charity.”

She shook her head at him, but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips.

“Your answer lies in that drawer full of tapes that aren’t yours, Mulder.”

“How’s that?”

“Let’s see, sex starts when the man presents his erection and ends when he ejaculates. The woman howls like an animal no matter what he’s doing, though her orgasm is never mentioned. There is no foreplay. Would you like me to continue?”

He swallowed a mouthful of coffee he’d been holding, afraid he might choke. He’d never heard her speak so openly about sex before, especially not sex she had personally experienced, and though he’d been the one who initiated the conversation he was suddenly afraid he was going to have to walk out of this diner trying to hide a bulge in his slacks.

“Fair enough, Scully, but porn isn’t real. It’s like an action movie. No one actually hangs off the skids of a helicopter mid-air, it’s just fun to watch.”

“I’m glad to hear that you’re aware of that, Mulder, and I would implore you to spread the news to the rest of the male populace.” She punctuated her statement with a loud crunch into her toast.

Mulder’s mouth fell open slightly as he studied her, trying to tell if she was joking or embellishing.

“People really do that? Have sex like they do in porn? Men you’ve slept with?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mulder, if you’re going to sit here and tell me that you have never done that, even as a young man, I’ll have to call BS.”

He put his hands up in defense. “I’m not saying I emerged from puberty as Don Juan, but I don’t recall ever not being invested in my partner’s experience. I’m sure my skills were lacking at the outset, but I always tried.”

She looked at him derisively from under her eyelashes. “Well then, you really should get out there more, Mulder. Share your gift with the world.” Her voice was laden with sarcasm.

He laughed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “How am I coming out to be the bad guy, here Scully? I’m not the one who gave you a ‘worse than cake’ lay.”

She smiled at him but her tone remained facetious “of course not, you’ve demonstrated that your skills in this area are unparalleled.”

“Damn straight!” He said with a slap of his palm on the table, and they both erupted into laughter.

They held eye contact as the laughter subsided, awkwardness descending over the conversation. He had made reference to the two of them having sex, which was a topic he’d only made innuendo about, never mentioned directly. Trying to break the tension, Scully finally spoke.

“Well, I guess you can see why I don’t bother dating.”

“I guess I can” he replied, swiping the last crumbs of cake off the plate with his finger.

“Why don’t you date, Mulder?” His expression registered surprise. “Or do you? I don’t want to be presumptuous.” She felt a pit in her belly at the idea that he may actually have a secret love life.

“No” he spat out, chuckling a little. “No, I definitely don’t date. It’s just too complicated I guess. I’m kind of a serial monogamist anyway.”

“Really?” Now it was her turn to be surprised.

“Yeah, for the most part. I’ve had a couple flings, but the vast majority of the women I’ve slept with I was in a relationship with. The emotional aspect is important for me.”

She studied him, imagining a version of Mulder who would be so considerate and giving. She didn’t need to imagine it, really, she’d seen it. While he was capable of being selfish and obtuse, he had also been incredibly tender and caring with her on many occasions. He had certainly shown a proclivity towards chivalry; opening doors for her, walking closer to traffic on the sidewalk, helping her into her coat or holding an umbrella for her. The idea that such gestures would extend into the bedroom was logical, but it still set off a stirring in her belly. In what other ways might he be so attentive to her needs? She swallowed the last of her coffee and tried not to think about it. Maybe later, but not here. Not now.

“Well, I hate to state the obvious here, Scully, but I don’t think you’re going to happen across the guy that will give you a 5-star experience if you never put yourself out there.” As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to kick himself; why the fuck was he encouraging her sleeping with other people?

She smiled demurely and shrugged “for now I get my thrills from ghost busting and the occasional slice of really good cake.”

He bobbed his head and smiled back, pulling out his wallet and setting his bureau credit card on the tabletop.

In truth, she had already happened across that guy. He was sitting in front of her at a shitty diner in the middle of nowhere. And while she hoped that she may enjoy that 5 star experience in the future, for now just being in his presence, laughing and seeking the answers to the mysteries of the universe together, that was better than sex.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #xf fanfic

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melzula · 4 years

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Fire Lilies

pairing: Zuko x princess!reader

warnings: fluff, angst, forbidden lovers au

notes: this is my first zuko piece and also my first atla piece ever so pls excuse the fact that it’s a little clunky 🥺 this isn’t really canon to the show but the reader is princess of the southern Water Tribe and a water bender. also this may or may not have been inspired by the secret tunnel song... anyway, i may make a part two to this but for now enjoy!

summary: “Two lovers forbidden from one another. A war divides their people.”

Tensions between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes had never been higher, and the possibility of war was a continuous threat that loomed over both nations. Constant efforts of parley and council meetings proceeded throughout the years, but neither side could ever seem to reach an agreement both deemed satisfactory. As chief of the Southern Water Tribe, such negotiations seemed to weigh heavily upon your father’s shoulders, and despite being the crowned Princess there was nothing you could do to help him.

“A council of negotiations is no place for a princess,” he would remind you every time you attempted to give your own insight and opinion on the troubles your people faced. Your father would leave you then in the care of your mother and your handmaidens, an apologetic kiss placed upon your forehead before his departure.

“The council is overrated anyway,” you would huff in an attempt to conceal your disappointment and annoyance at the unfairness of it all, “it’s just a bunch of angry old men who are too stubborn to set aside their differences for the sake of peace.”

And yet despite your renouncement of such a meeting, you always found yourself sneaking away from home and towards the council chambers where the negations often took place. Your people believed that women held no place in war, only meant to be gentle hands and spirits that served and guided their people. Such expectations were set even higher for Princesses, and so you were restricted to activities such as practicing your healing and providing aid to your people. You loved your tribe with all of your heart, but you found the traditions they practiced rather... well, for lack of a better term, stupid. You could be doing so much more to help if only your father would let you participate.

The stars are bright on this particular evening, a glimmer of hope that hangs over the dark blacks and reds of the Fire Nation ships arriving at the docks; it’s the southern tribe’s turn to host the meeting. You can’t see much from where you stand other than the outlines of the soldiers, guards, officials, and the royal family, but you know for a fact that the minacious figure leading the procession is none other than Fire Lord Ozai. You’d only ever crossed paths with the man once when you were four, and it had purely been an accident on your part, but you knew that if you hadn’t been the Chief’s daughter you would definitely have marks to show for the encounter.

Considering the fact that you’re the only Princess and heir to the throne, it’s surprisingly easy scaling down your balcony and sneaking off into the night without a second thought. Though you found the underestimation of women in your tribe extremely insulting, the “helpless princess” front sure kept suspicions off your back. The nation is quiet with everyone either tucked inside for the night or present at the meeting, and there is no one to stop you from hiding yourself amongst the shadows outside the meeting hall and taking a peek inside.

Various political figures sit at the long table, your father and the Fire Lord sitting at opposite ends. The atmosphere is heavy and thick, the air silent as each side dare’s the other to speak first, and perhaps part of you is glad that you don’t have to sit through such a meeting.

“What are you doing?” A voice calls, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re able to contain your startled gasp so as to not blow your cover. You whirl around with a murderous glint in your eye and the intent to blast whoever almost gave you away with an icy cold wave of water, but your demeanor changes in an instant as you realize who the voice belongs to.

“Zuko!” You squeal, all caution thrown to the wind as you fling yourself into his arms. The sheer force of your impact sends you both toppling back onto the snow, but the prince can’t help the laugh that leaves him as he winds his arms tightly around your waist.

“I guess I don’t have to ask if you missed me,” he teases. The two of you sit up from the ground once you release him, and he watches with a fond smile as you carefully brush the snow off of his clothing.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come. Things have been so tense.”

“You know I’ll always come see you,” Zuko comforts before pressing a delicate kiss to your temple. Your relationship with the Fire Nation prince was a complicated one, but there was no denying the love you two shared.

You had first met when you were four and Zuko was five. Originally you were meant to be a playmate for Princess Azula, but she had made it clear that she would much rather torment the white hamsters than spend her time pretending to be your friend. It was Zuko who took interest in your companionship, sledding on the otter penguins with you during the day and sharing secrets at night.

“Princesses aren’t allowed to water bend, but sometimes when no one’s looking I practice my combat skills,” you had told him. “I can also do cool tricks.”

“Really? Like what?”

Zuko watched in awe as you used the water in the air to swirl the snowflakes that fell from the sky into the shape of a butterfly, delicately flapping its wings so that it landed on tip of the young prince’s nose. Joyful laughter escaped him at the sensation, and it was then at four years old that you knew the Fire Nation boy would always hold a special place in your heart.

You kept your courting a secret for the sake of making things less complicated for the both of you. It wasn’t necessarily against the rules for the two of you to be together, but it was just easier to keep it to yourselves. Keeping politics and prying eyes away from your relationship was what made it so strong; you weren’t the Fire Prince and the Water Tribe Princess when you were together, you were simply Zuko and y/n. And it was nicer that way.

“Close your eyes, I have a surprise for you,” Zuko smiles, rolling his eyes at the way your eyebrows immediately furrow in protest. “Just do it.”

With a reluctant sigh you shut your eyes and let out a small hum, waiting for whatever prize may come your way. Something gentle and sweet smelling is placed in your lap, and you open your eyes to see a bouquet of flower lilies resting upon the skirt of your dress.

“Oh, Zuko!” You gasp, picking the bundle up and admiring the beautiful petals. “They’re gorgeous.”

“I knew you’d like them,” he grins. “There aren’t many flowers around here.”

“The snow prevents anything from growing,” you agree with a small smile. “You’re so thoughtful.”

“Anything for the Princess.”

“I love you,” you profess, sighing happily as his lips meet your own in a tender kiss. Times like these were few and far between considering you both came from opposite sides and only saw each other once a month, so you liked to savor the feeling for as long as you could. However, your moment of bliss ended much sooner than you had anticipated.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Your father’s voice bellows from the entryway of the meeting hall. You’re quick to scramble onto your feet and away from Zuko, but the fire lilies are still clutched tightly in your hands.

“Father, I-I can explain,” you begin to say only for him to take hold of you by the elbow and yank you away from a terrified Zuko. The bouquet of flowers falls from your grasp and drops onto the snow.

“How dare you try and soil my daughter!”

“I-I didn’t mean any harm, sir,” Zuko tries to say, “I love and respect your daughter.”

“Love,” your father scoffs. “Fire Nation monsters aren’t capable of love. They only bring pain and heartache wherever they go. For as long as I live I never want to see you near her again, is that clear?”

“Father, you can’t!” You cry, but the deterrent glare he sends your way has you backing down in an instant. You know better than to argue with him when he has that crazed wide eyed look on his face; your father was a good man and a great chief, but he could be ruthless when it came to his people and his family- especially with you.

“Yes, sir,” Zuko utters quietly, eyes cast downward and refusing to meet your gaze. Fighting your father’s decision would only make things worse, and he doesn’t want you to suffer any more than you have to.

“Now run along child,” your father instructs gruffly, “and don’t come back.”

Zuko takes one last longing look at you, and the pleading you look you give him that begs him not to go has his heart breaking into two. Chances are this is the last time he’ll ever see you again, and he wants to commit the details of your memory permanently to his mind. He wants to remember the curve of your lips and the smoothness of your hair, the red of your cheeks from the cold and the tears that brim at the corners of your sparkling eyes. You are beautiful, ever since you were children he thought so, and in his mind he’d always remember you as the Princess with the snow butterfly and the bouquet of fire lilies.

Tears steadily fall down your face as your father guides you home by the elbow, carelessly stepping on the lilies in his path. They crumple and wither under his boot much like your heart had at his banishment of your beloved Zuko.

“Your mother should have kept a better eye on you,” he mutters harshly, glancing sideways at your trembling form. If he holds any remorse for breaking your heart he doesn’t show it, and it makes you feel all the worse. “It was for your own good, y/n. You may not see that now, but someday you will.”

“What happened to keeping the peace?!” You cry in protest. “I thought you wanted our nations to come together in harmony? Zuko and I are proof that it’s possible!“

“There will be no peace,” is your father’s solemn reply. “The Fire Nation has declared war.”

A small gasp leaves your lips at his confession, your stomach tying itself into knots so tight it almost makes you want to vomit. Your father says nothing more as he hands you off to your nurse maids and orders extra guards to ensure you can’t escape again. Everything feels as if it’s come crashing down upon you, and there isn’t a single thing you can do about it.

Snow begins to fall with the departure of the Fire Nation ships, and your forgotten lilies are suffocated underneath the clean sheets of ice.

*part two

#zuko #zuko x reader #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko imagine #avatar the last airbender #atla x reader #atla imagine #angst #forbidden lovers au #secret tunnel

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kenkaodoll · 2 years

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Kamiya Dojo Monogatari Tales 20 (JUMP SQ)

About Kamiya Dojo Monogatari:

Tales of Kamiya dojo is written by Kaoru Kurosaki and published along with the “Rurouni Kenshin Hokkaido” arc in JUMPSQ. The tale involves the Rurouni Kenshin character in daily life that takes time between Kenshin and Kaoru marriage until the epilogue chapter in the original manga before the Hokkaido Arc. Until this month (April 2022) there are a total 53 chapters in Tales of Kamiya dojo. This is an unofficial translation.

Previous Story: https://kenkaodoll.tumblr.com/post/681323644787490816/kamiya-dojo-monogatari-tales-19

The ship carrying Yahiko, Misao, and Enryo arrived at the port of Yokohama.

At this time in the 12th year of Meiji, the port of Yokohama had not yet constructed a wharf for large ships. The large ship had to anchor offshore, and people and cargo had to come and go by small boats at the dock.

Also, since containers for carrying cargo were not yet widely used, cargo were mostly pulled up from small boats by humans. Therefore, the docks were crowded with unloaders and passengers.

The yells of employers scolding their workers, families calling for their relatives, the sound of wind and waves, the cries of seagulls and black kites, peddlers, and ship's whistles. All voices mixed together in a jumble, conveying the liveliness of the harbor. In the midst of all this.

“…kun!”

A not-so-loud, indistinct voice reached Yahiko's ears.

“…?”

He tried to look in the direction of the voice and he saw a presence mixed in with the hustle and bustle. He looked closely in that direction.

“Yahiko-kun!”

He could hear it clearly this time. He also caught a glimpse of the small figure through the gaps between people passing by.

“Tsubame!”

Yahiko couldn't help but run to her.

“What happened? Did you go alone? All this way.”

He asked with a face full of concern, Tsubame shook her head a little.

“No, with Tae-san...”

Clearly, Sae had informed her that Yahiko had left for Tokyo.

“You came all the way to pick me up. Thanks!”

“I was worried.”

Tsubame said, a little embarrassed.

Yahiko could not find the words to reply to Tsubame, perhaps because he had not seen her for a while, so he turned away and thought for a moment before finally coming up with something to say.

“Don't worry, I'm fine.”

“Yes, I'm glad you're fine.”

“Umm, oh.. I'm glad to see Tsubame is doing well too.”

“Yeah.”

“...”

Misao was watching this situation with a smirk on her face, but Enryo showed his sociability and joined the conversation.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Yahiko-kun’s traveling companion. My name is Enryo.”

“Oh! Um, yes, nice to meet you.”

Tsubame immediately became doubtful.

“Sorry about that. Tsumabe is shy in front of strangers”

Yahiko casually offered help. Seeing this, Enryo looked satisfied.

“I would categorize human's relationships as "land-bond," which is the relationship between a person and the place where he or she was born and raised, and "blood-bond," which is the relationship between family members and relatives, but I believe that there also is a 'divine-bond' that bring fate and relationship to us.**”

“Classification again!”

Yahiko couldn't help but frown upon it. If Chou was here, he would have said, "The two words 'butt' and 'butt' are 'buttocks' . By classification, this is called 'ass-bond'!**". Certainly he was going to be very good at the pun. Yahiko had an unwanted imagination, it’s good that he’s not here, it would make things more complicated.

“After the restoration, Japan will have developed transportation by steam train and steamship. The number of new relationships that are not based on land-bond or blood-bond, but the people that meet by fate will increase in the future.”

“Well, that's true, of course. In the first place, I and Enryo are neither related by land nor by blood.”

“That’s right. I believe that this "divine bond" will work not only for friends like me and Yahiko-kun, but also for men and women, and will surely bring about ‘free love’, which is a newly introduced idea from the West.”

“Free… love…?”

Tsubame was flustered.

“Free love is the leading edge of the male-female relationship form.”

“Huh?”

And from what I saw, Yahiko-kun seems to be a Tokyo kid, but Tsubame-san's dialect is a little different, also you both don't look like relatives. This is a relationship that is neither 'land-bond' nor 'blood-bond'. But they seem to be very close. In other words, I have to conclude that this is a leading edge relationship. What do you think? Isn't that right?"

Enryo was breathing roughly, but Yahiko didn't understand what he was saying and made what the hell expression.

“leading edge?”

Yahiko was doubtful, but Tsubame fumbled and blushing.

“Um, you know... We're not that old.”

“Age has nothing to do with it," he said. “I read in the newspaper that these days it is fashionable to get married at an early age, as if it were a play house. Isn't it wonderful that it is the latest trend?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about free love.”

“What? Didn't we just talk about classification?”

“I've made a classification, and I've come to a conclusion.”

“What conclusion?”

“Yahiko-kun and Tsubame-san are in good relationship, aren't you?”

Enryo finally rephrased it in terms Yahiko could understand.

What? It's totally different! It's not like that! How can you're coming to conclusions like that, it's not like I've ever classified you!

Yahiko was pissed off and denied it.

“I see. Well, there will come a day in years to come when you will think I was right. The more Yahiko-kun denies it, the more this young lady is about to cry, so I'll leave you here. Well then, Misao-san, I hope you’ll find the person who you’re looking for.”

Enryo said goodbye by slightly lifting the hunting cap he was wearing and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

“Enryo-kun is a funny person, eh?”

Misao seemed to enjoy listening to the three of them and laughed.

“He's not funny, but he's an odd one.”

Yahiko looked around as he said that.

“So you said you came with Tae, what happened?”

He asked Tsubame.

“Unfortunately we got separated...”

“Oh well... Let's look for her.

Yahiko, Tsubame, and Misao scurried through the crowd, looking for Tae.

And then...

“There she is!”

Yahiko spotted Tae.

“Huh?”

At the same time Misao let out a cry.

“The other day I was talking on the ship, about someone who is so good at painting, it’s that man!”

Misao shouted and pointed at a man with a silk hat and a walking stick.

The man was a street vendor selling Ezōshi (Edo-period illustrated story book) to foreigners. Tae was absorbed in rummaging through the booth for a pictured paper.

・

“Kyaaa, isn’t this Tsukioka Tsunan's "Yamato Takeru"! And over here, there's "Boy's Day Carp Streamer and Shōki Banner" by Kawanabe Kyosai and "Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre" by Utagawa Kuniyoshi.”

She loved warrior paintings and her eyes were shining.

In the painting that Tae held her hand was Sakakibara Kenichi, he was the founder of the Gekikenkai, in which Yahiko had also participated before. Sakakibara Kenkichi was confronting a demon. Kawanabe Kyosai was a painter who liked to draw Yokai. Also Utagawa Kuniyoshi's "Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre" is also a samurai painting of Oyakutaro Mitsukuni, a retainer of Minamoto no Yorinobu, who confronts Princess Takiyasha, who controlled a giant skeleton by sorcery.

Tae was absorbed in the paintings, so they left her alone.

“Long time no see!”

Misao called out a man in a silk hat from the street vendor.

“Look who's here!”

The man looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled at Misao.

“This person who's into warrior paintings is a friend of mine.”

“Not at all, she just picked up a bunch of great bargains. She must be quite a connoisseur."

“It's such a pleasure to have such a connoisseur.”

Tae seemed unbothered.

“Let me introduce you. This is Tae-san, the proprietress of a beef hot pot restaurant in Asakusa. This is my old friend Otafu... Oh, you changed your name after restoration, didn't you? What is your name now?”

“Yes. I now go by the name of Nakahara Fukutaro.”

“Fukutaro-han, do you always open the street vendors here?”

“I'll be here for a while.”

“There are so many good ones, I can't choose just one. I will choose only two paintings by Kuniyoshi and Yoshitoshi for today, and Kyousai for another day…”

She said she was not going to take Kyosai, but Tae could not part with the painting in her hand.

“But, what if it’s sold by the time I come back…”

She hesitated.

“May I take a look too?”

Tsubame, who actually liked warrior paintings, also timidly picked up a bundle of paintings in a box.

“That one's worth a couple of bucks, not much at all.”

“But I can't afford Kuniyoshi with my allowance.”

“There may be some bargains there. Please take your time to look.”

Fukutaro talked to Misao so as not disturbed Tae and Tsubame who were seriously facing the painting.

“It's been a really long time, by the way. Miss Misao.”

“Listen, I have a favor to ask of you, Fukutaro, who is a skilled painter as good as a god.”

Misao began to talk and got down to business quickly. But Yahiko hurriedly stopped her.

“No, wait, neither Kenshin nor I have the money to order a painting from such a god-like person.”

“God…”

Fukutaro's face melted into a smile.

“You can compliment me more if you like.”

He approached Yahiko.

“I am a painter who thrives on praise!”

He came closer and closer.

“Come on, give me a compliment!”

“What...?”

Yahiko flinched.

And then...

“Um, I'll take this one.”

Tsubame selected one from a box.

・

“Thank you.”

Tae and Tsubame bought the warrior paintings, Yahiko's request was canceled, and the group left the place.

After the stall was far away, Tsubame timidly started to speak.

“Um... I... I really shouldn't be thinking like this, but I just… I just can't help but think that the street vendor is a bad person...”

Tae disagrees with Tsubame's words.

“Why? Whoever gave us such a treasure at such a low price can’t be bad...”

Before Tae could finish, Tsubame showed Tae the painting she had just bought.

“Uh… This is...”

Tae took one look at the picture and lost her word.

“Eh? What's wrong with that painting?”

Misao asked Tae.

“Yahiko-kun, you know what this picture is, don't you?”

“What do you mean, this is a picture of Sagara Sozo, a member of the Sekihoutai. Ah!”

Yahiko finally realized what Tsubame was trying to say and gasped.

Fukutaro was selling a warrior painting of Sagara Sozo, a member of the Sekihoutai. It was signed by Tsukioka Tsunan. There was nothing strange about that. Tsunan himself said that Sagara Sozo's warrior paintings did not sell well, and that he was probably the only one who had painted them. Therefore, it was not strange that there were Sagara Sozo's warrior paintings by Tsukioka Tsunan. However, there was nothing decisive in this painting. Tsunan always painted two of them.

Tsunan and Sanosuke as young children, who followed Sagara Sozo as if they were the former and latter devils of the gang, were not depicted in the picture.

“This is… a forgery of Tsunan’s painting?”

Notes:

**)my translation about Enryo explanation may be inaccurate because one Kanji character can have various meanings and I’m not really expert about it, at least I try to present it in English as simply as possible.

**) Yahiko imagine that Chou would using pun to joke, shiri: butt, oshiriai: butt meets butt

*)Yamato Takeru, 12th Emperor of Japan, who dressed as a maidservant in a successful plot to kill the leaders of the Kumaso tribe in Kumamoto

*)Boy's Day Carp Streamer and Shōki Banner: On Boys’ Day, the fifth day of the fifth month, families displayed carp streamers and images of the demon-queller Shōki, painted in red to protect the household against disease; the rooster symbolizes honesty and fortitude.

*)Kawanabe Kyosai was a painter, print artist and collector. Working in a wide range of fields of both 'Ukiyo-e' and more classical styles of painting.

*)Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre

*)Utagawa Kuniyoshi was one of the last great masters of the Japanese ukiyo-e style of woodblock prints and painting. The range of Kuniyoshi's subjects included many genres: landscapes, beautiful women, Kabuki actors, cats, and mythical animals.

*)Sakakibara Kenkichi, was a Japanese samurai and martial artist.

*)Gekigenkai: Kendo style match or event test their strength in swordsmanship and fight (for entertainment or even gambling purpose)

.…..continue in chapter 21…… https://kenkaodoll.tumblr.com/post/681776045180026880/kamiya-dojo-monogatari-tales-21-jump-sq

TLnote(1): translating Japanese is so hard because the sentence structure is very different compared with the English also the style of writing is different, plus there’s a lot of figurative, poetic language and things that sounds not making sense if it’s directly translated into english. So forgive me if this is very weird to read, and please tell me if you want give corrections.

TLnote(2) I will provide the original Japanese text for correction if any of you who read have better knowledge of Japanese language. Just dm and I’ll send the file.

TLnote(3) Dtninja had translated some earlier chapters in his website. You can go and check on there.

#Kamiya Dojo Monogatari #Tales of Kamiya Dojo #rurouni kenshin #ruroken #Myoujin Yahiko #Makimachi Misao #Sanjo Tsubame #Sekihara Tae #unofficial translation #kaoru kurosaki #kurosaki kaoru

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gointothevvater · 3 years

Text

Her full profile is finally here! Seven pages of information! I may have gone down the rabbit hole just a tiny bit!

St. Cecilia Jameson

Gender: Cis female

Status: Alive

Occupation: Singer for British rock band Stiletto ("Like the knife or like the shoe?" "Yes.")

Family: Elizabeth Robinson, née Wallis (Mother), Bryony Robinson (Older half-sister), Esme Robinson, née Davies (Grandmother, deceased), Herakles Zafeiriou (Biological father, though she's never met him), Evander Zafeiriou (Older half-brother, who she's also never met, though they've exchanged family photos and stories via email)

Voiced by: Florence Pugh (Speaking), Lzzy Hale (Singing)

Age: A few months younger than Pickles

Date of birth: December 15 (Sagittarius)

Place of birth: Oxford, England

Birth name: Felicity Robinson (Initially, only Sammy knows this, though the rest of SnB learns it at Esme's funeral)

Nicknames: Ceelie (By Pickles and Sammy, mostly, though the Dethklok boys pick it up eventually), Star (By Magnus), princess (By Skwisgaar)

Ethnicity: Half English, half Greek (Though she's unaware of the latter for most of her life)

Height: Five-foot-one

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship status: It's complicated. It's always complicated. She's unlucky in love.

Current location: London, England

Appearance: St. Cecilia is a petite woman (She's half a head shorter than Pickles!) with golden skin and long white-blonde hair, which she wears in a high ponytail. She has thick, dark brows and bright brown eyes (Skwisgaar says she has "wolf eyes"). She has three white marigolds tattooed on each shoulder, a labret piercing, and a vertical collarbone piercing at the hollow of her throat. Her ears are pierced three times each, in which she wears two silver hoops and a silver stud on each side, and she has a small black star beneath each eye. She has a Christina piercing, nipple piercings, and a belly button piercing. She has a No Time For Antivenom tattoo on her sternum, and a European robin tattoo at the back of her neck. Along her spine, she has a tattoo reading "to thine own self be true." She has a shitty stick-and-poke crown tattooed behind her right ear. She has a pear body type, with wide hips, a small chest, and an even smaller waist (Nathan can encircle her waist with his hands). She typically wears a black muscle shirt, ripped dark jeans, heavy boots, black driving gloves, and a studded black leather collar with a D-ring at the front. She also wears a Gibson pearl guitar pick on a necklace, which was given to her by Pickles when they first started dating in the 80s. She wears a silver cuff on each ear, and her tongue is pierced with a simple silver stud.

During flashbacks to the Snakes N' Barrels era, she's shown with darker blonde hair cut in a mullet style, and only her labret and ear piercings, plus one on the right side of her nose. She wears a cropped white tank, with high-waisted jeans and black Converse sneakers. She wears mismatched armbands, one black, one striped, and the same collar she wears in the present.

Her more casual look consists of a black button-up shirt with the sleeves pushed up, which she wears tucked into a pair of leather pants. She wears pumps instead of boots, and her hair is twisted up in a clip. She keeps her collar, but doesn't wear the pick necklace or her ear cuff, and she switches her hoop earrings for studs. She doesn't apply her stars.

For fancier occasions, she wears a black dress with spaghetti straps and a very short, flared skirt, black opera gloves and black strap pumps. She, as always, wears her collar with it, and she pulls her hair into a high bun.

Personality: St. Cecilia is cocky, witty, and teasing, but ultimately good-natured. She's a bit selfish and stubborn, but she does everything with 110% effort, hoping to impress people, even if she winds up getting hurt in the process. She'll do literally anything for validation. To say she's vain would be an understatement. She's something of a coquette who flirts with both men and women, and is she has a tendency to "think with her dick," as Tony once put it. She's slow to anger, but quick to jealousy, and she holds grudges for far too long. She's the playful type, but it's largely in a chill way. She's an obvious extrovert, and the role as frontman for Stiletto came very naturally.

Skills & Hobbies: St. Cecilia writes good poetry, great song lyrics, and terrible erotica. She likes plants and is quite the chess player (Though she hasn't managed to beat Charles even once), which she learned during her school days. She also learned to fence, ride horses, and speak fluent Latin there.

Musical Talents: She's a classically trained singer (When she was little, she was part of her church's choir), and she writes most of the song lyrics and some of the music for her band, Stiletto. In Snakes N' Barrels, she played lead guitar on a white Jackson Pro Series Rhoads RR3, but during their reunion concert, she plays a more modern Gibson Explorer '76 Reissue 2010 Cherry. She took piano lessons for several years as a child, and she's still pretty good. Nothing outstanding, but if Stiletto needs to incorporate a piano into a song, she's perfectly capable of playing it herself.

Relationships:

-Pickles the Drummer: Their relationship is a complicated one. They've known each other for ages, and they've been together through the highest highs and the lowest lows, all the way down to rock bottom. She partially blames him for her late teens and early twenties being the fiasco they were, and she cut off contact with him for a long time after the SnB breakup. During the run of the show itself, the two reconcile somewhat and even become more or less friends before Abigail shows up and things start to crumble again. They have a hard time admitting it, but there's love between them, and there has been for a long time. They're both afraid to try getting together again, though, as there's a mutual fear of the relationship ending as it did the first time, with them hating each other again. They're back together at the end of Doomstar, but there's no way of telling if the love between them is enough to keep them together or if they'll just fall apart all over again.

-Magnus Hammersmith: They were more off-and-on than anything, but they were together for years, even though quite a bit of it was long-distance. It wasn't supposed to be a serious thing. It was just supposed to be a quick fuck. Then it was supposed to be a performance to annoy Pickles, but Magnus quickly realized that St. Cecilia's feelings for Pickles were too strong for her to be any use to him in his revenge plot. The basis of their bond formed because they understood each other on a level they've never known with anyone else: Former Snakes N' Barrels guitarist St. Cecilia Jameson and former Dethklok guitarist Magus Hammersmith both understand on a fundamental level what it's like to be left behind and forgotten. Magnus caught a bit of feelings, and when Roy Cornickelson's funeral came around, Magnus warned St. Cecilia not to attend. It was their last interaction, and it forever cast him in a positive light for her, even after she learned what he was doing with the Metal Masked Assassin.

-Nathan Explosion: They get along pretty well. Their first meeting was at a singers-only Crystal Mountain party, and they ended the evening with a quickie in the coatroom. He wrote a song about the encounter, but Pickles never figured out that it was about St. Cecilia, which Nathan thinks is just the funniest thing. He mostly sees St. Cecilia as one of the guys once she meets with Dethklok again for the SnB reunion. It's a "been there, done that" kind of deal. She's not brutal, but she's funny and she's fun, and goddamn, is she pretty, and they would absolutely hang out if they could get their schedules to line up.

-Skwisgaar Skwigelf: St. Cecilia is nothing short of enchanted by Skwisgaar. It's not a crush, exactly, but she has a huge amount of admiration for him. They've practiced together a time or two, but she's a little rusty and winds up with her fingers bleeding because her calluses have gone soft. He tends to tease her over her soft hands. A guitar god, he tells her, can't have hands like a princess. His calling her “princess” becomes a bit of a thing for them. The two of them often have brunch together, talking shit and drinking. She's good for him; He's never had a female friend before.

-Toki Wartooth: Within the series itself, St. Cecilia hasn't given Toki much thought. He's cute, but he's just sorta there. His incident during the SOBERTOWN USA concert really scared her, and she more or less avoids him after that. Post-DSR, though, their relationship changes. He, like her, was hurt by Magnus, and even with him dead, Toki misses him terribly. St. Cecilia misses him, too. As sad as it is, this becomes their common ground. Their other connection, odd as it sounds, is pole dancing. St. Cecilia does it for exercise, and Toki did it for money, and they often compete to see who's better on the pole.

-William Murderface: St. Cecilia actually has a begrudging fondness for Murderface. He's awful, but he's also pretty funny, and she likes to hear him talk about knives and medieval weaponry, as her family home is full of such things. They clash over things, of course, but she likes being around him more often than not.

-Charles Offdensen: St. Cecilia really likes Charles, actually. He's basically the only person on the show who's really "on her level" class-wise. He attended Harvard, and she attended Oxford, so they have a great deal to talk about. They play a lot of chess and fence on occasion, and if it weren't for her feelings for Pickles and his obligation to the Church, they just might have gotten together.

-Dick Knubbler: They're friends, in a way. She thinks he's kind of a weirdo, but he knows how to have a good time, so as long as he isn't hitting on her, she likes being around him.

-Abigail Remeltincdrinc: They became friends mostly due to the fact that they were both women in the music industry (And both working for Crystal Mountain) and supporting each other seemed the right thing to do. Abigail getting involved with Dethklok and catching Pickles's attention quickly became a sore spot, and they drifted apart after that. After DSR, things got even worse. Abigail, naturally, is glad that Magnus is gone, while St. Cecilia is devastated by the loss. They had something of a falling-out over it, and they haven't really spoken since.

-Edgar Jomfru: Despite being very different people, St. Cecilia really enjoys Edgar's company. He merely tolerates her at first, but she grows on him, to the point where they're legitimately friends come Doomstar. The two of them often have lunch together on the roof of Mordhaus so they can get some fresh air.

-Family: St. Cecilia's family consists of her mother, Elizabeth, her older sister, Bryony, and her now-deceased grandmother, Esme. St. Cecilia has a very formal, cold relationship with her mother, and she has no desire to change that. As far as she's concerned, her mother doesn't deserve to have a good relationship with her. St. Cecilia adores Bryony, though. Though Elizabeth brags about her, Bryony remains modest and is very close with her sister because of it. Though there's seven years between them, they may as well be twins. Esme, who passed away in 1993, was more of a mother to St. Cecilia than Elizabeth ever was, and St. Cecilia still misses her terribly. She was a big part of getting SnB off the ground, and the boys even came to her funeral.

-Snakes N' Barrels: St. Cecilia adores all the boys, of course, but Sammy is the only one she really kept in touch with after the breakup. He was her favorite long before Pickles joined. There was a pregnancy scare not long after the band took off that somehow, against all odds, brought the two of them even closer. Sammy was St. Cecilia's first love. Her relationships with Tony and Snazz were much more professional, though none of them were anywhere near professional. The crown tattoo behind her right ear was done by Tony on a drunken night in, and it was too good a night for her to even consider covering it or getting it removed.

-Stiletto: She gets along with them all quite well! She's known Niamh McLoughlin, their bassist, the longest, and their friendship dates back to their school days. Lex Clarke and Priyanka Dayal, the drummer and the guitarist respectively, came as a package deal, as they've been more or less married for years. St. Cecilia adores them and the sweetness of their relationship. She's a little envious of them, actually, though she would never say so.

History:

-Childhood: St. Cecilia was born in Oxford, England to Elizabeth Robinson. She was raised more or less at her family's girls-only boarding school, away from her mother. When she was fourteen, she fell off a horse during an equestrian class and badly injured her shoulder. She was one of the popular girls during her school days, up until she hit fifteen and decided that she was no longer a child and had a right to demand respect from her emotionally distant mother. She quit the piano lessons she had been taking for several years and took up the guitar, though it aggravated her injured shoulder and even as a teen, she developed a dependence on painkillers. This rebellious period stretched until she was sixteen and ran away with the help of her grandmother. St. Cecilia was given her name just before she left, so it would be easier for her to hide, as well as a hefty sum to tide her over until she could get herself settled. She was only in LA for a few weeks before she met Sammy at a bar where the SnB prototype band was playing. Naturally, Snazz and Tony weren't thrilled with the idea of Sammy's kinda-sorta-girlfriend trying to become their lead guitarist, and when Snazz disparagingly referred to St. Cecilia as Yoko, she broke his nose (How could he have not expected violence when a Beatles-loving British girl was called such a horrible thing?). This earned their respect and is an event that they laugh about to this day.

-Snakes n' Barrels era: St. Cecilia stuck with the band for several months before they found Pickles, and she was smitten with him the moment she heard him sing. Esme was an important source of financial support during their formative years. The band made it big after not too long, and they all grew quite close. St. Cecilia ended up in an ill-fated off-and-on relationship with Pickles as time went on, and to this day she doesn't remember the first time she told him she loved him. It wasn't long after his first OD and his following stint in rehab that she told him, and they were both drunk in celebration of his release. His tolerance, even post-rehab, was far higher than hers, though, and he remembers, though he sometimes hates that he does. Though there was genuine love between them, the stress of the band and both of their substance abuse problems drove a wedge between not only the couple, but also the entire band. Coupled with Pickles fucking groupies behind St. Cecilia's back and St. Cecilia's becoming a rather serious Vicodin addict to combat the pain in her injured shoulder, the band was doomed. Pickles came to see St. Cecilia off on her flight back to England, saying he would meet her there when his next residuals check came in, but he never made it, and they didn't speak to each other for years afterward. It hurt, but St. Cecilia supposed it was for the best. A clean break, and all that.

-Preklok: After SnB broke up, St. Cecilia returned to Oxford, staying with Bryony in their mother's guest house as she tried to figure out her next move. Despite her gift for writing lyrics, she had no talent for writing books, and that idea quickly went down the drain. She still received a large amount of money in residuals, but she was reduced to a mere socialite, though it mostly agreed with her. At her mother's insistence, she attended a few classes at Oxford University. She absolutely loved it. In 1992, Esme passed away. St. Cecilia only told Sammy about it, but he took the initiative and brought Pickles, Tony and Snazz with him to the funeral. St. Cecilia was initially pissed, but she really appreciated the support. That was the only time she saw Pickles between SnB's breakup and their reunion concert. He was devastated when her parting words to him were "I love you with everything I am, but I never wanna see you again." In the mid-90s, she posed for an issue of Playboy, and Pickles has a copy of the issue tucked away somewhere. It wasn't until 1998, when she moved to a little flat in London, that St. Cecilia reunited with her school friend Niamh and the idea of Stiletto came about. They found Priyanka and Lex at an open mic night at one of the local clubs, and they hit it off, both as friends and as bandmates. They played at many clubs and pubs, and they were soon found by a scout at another open mic night. They signed with the UK branch of Crystal Mountain Records and were assigned the surly but efficient Melinda Glasscock as their manager, and within three years, Stiletto was huge, due in part to St. Cecilia's residual fame from Snakes N' Barrels. Their first tour was through Europe, but the second came to America, where St. Cecilia met Magnus in a bar post-show. They got on really well, and she invited him to her hotel room for the night. They exchanged numbers and got quite close over time, with her even flying him out to London from time to time so they could hang out. Magnus knew who she was from the start, and while he planned to use her feelings for Pickles to get her on his side, that soon faded and he came to genuinely like her. She wouldn't learn who he was until later on. A few years before canon, she had a quickie with Nathan in a coat room at a singers-only part at Crystal Mountain records, and he used the fact that she couldn't fit her mouth around his dick as inspiration for Dethklok's infamous song "Glasgow Smile."

-Season 1:

-St. Cecilia's first mention within the confines of canon is during Performance Klok, when Pickles mentions he hasn't been in a serious relationship since the '80s despite the fact that he would certainly thrive under such attention.

-She first appears in Snakes N' Barrels, during the documentary the Dethklok is watching. The guys are a little critical when they (Save Nathan, who's known for a long time) learn that part of SnB's downfall was due to Pickles's failed relationship with St. Cecilia. There's some comedic nonsense talk about fucking one's guitarist before Pickles goes to speak with Charles. Though St. Cecilia is working on an album with Stiletto when she's asked to go the reunion, she manages to push through and finish in time, though she arrives nearly late. She finds Pickles backstage, and when he sweeps in to kiss her, she pulls away a bit, saying they can't do this, as she's spoken for. She lets him hold her close, though. The rest of Dethklok finds them like that, and St. Cecilia excuses herself to go find Sammy, Tony and Snazz. There's some talk about Pickles not leaving Dethklok, which he says he won't, but they're rather worried after catching him with St. Cecilia in his arms. Meanwhile, she manages to find the boys, and they meet with Pickles backstage. While the boys partake of the Totally Awesome Sweet Alabama Liquid Snake, St. Cecilia doesn't, as she once humiliated herself by passing out on stage and doesn't wish to repeat the incident. She presses a kiss to Pickles's palm before they go on stage, an old ritual that they were never able to shake. What happens is far worse than someone just passing out, and she and Pickles leave the stage amidst the chaos while the medical Klokateers take care of the boys and see them off to the hospital. It's a disaster. She's embarrassed and angry, and she turns down Pickles's offer of a ride home and calls someone instead, as she didn't get her money converted and can't pay for a cab. This someone turns out to be the man who's claimed her, Magnus, and Pickles is none too happy about it. He tries to stop her from going with him, but it doesn't work.

-She isn't seen in Dethkids, but she is mentioned. When Pickles starts drinking harder than usual, he finally gives in to the urge to call her, to talk about how Sammy and Snazz and Tony are doing, and to tell her that she should steer clear of Magnus. He's so drunk, though, that she barely has even an idea of what he's talking about.

-Offscreen, but somewhere between the two SnB episodes, Magnus and St. Cecilia abruptly break up. She has a feeling something was going on with him, but his sudden disappearance really hurt her. They had been together off and on for years, after all. A few weeks before he left, he bought her a little pink knife and showed her how to use it, just in case he wasn't around to protect her. When he left, he left his guitar behind, and she still has it as of Doomstar.

-Season 2:

-She's mentioned by Seth in Dethwedding, though only as "that British chick" he thought Pickles would eventually have married. Pickles nearly decks him for even mentioning her.

-St. Cecilia's next appearance is in Snakes N' Barrels II. In part one, during the advertisement for the SOBERTOWN USA concert, she's missing from the band lineup, and Pickles is both relieved and a little concerned by her absence.

-In SnB II part two, Nathan, Skwisgaar and Toki find her among the crowd at the SOBERTOWN USA concert. Nathan asks if she wasn't invited to play, but she says that she was: She just didn't think it was right to play without Pickles. Realizing that Pickles is sneaking around backstage, she leaves to go find him and try to keep him from doing something he'll regret. She only finds him just as Tony, Snazz and Sammy start freaking out, and she only just manages to keep Pickles from killing Rikki Kixx, though she honestly doesn't mind the thought of him dead. She pulls Pickles away from the stage, where he calls the Klokateers to take care of Sammy, Snazz and Tony, and she sets to icing down his bruised knuckles. She tells him that she and Magnus broke up, and he's thoroughly pleased about it: She's too good for him, anyway. That irritates her a bit, but she tells him to call her sometime, though she insists he do it when he's not drunk off his ass.

-Season 3:

-Ironically, when Pickles calls her in Dethhealth to inform her that he's dying, he's in fact drunk again. She wants to go to Mordhaus to see him, but he tells her to stay where she is, as he doesn't want her seeing him like that, though she's seen him at rock bottom as it is. At the end of the episode, he's drunker and higher than ever, but he calls her again to let her know he's all right. She can't understand him, though, so he puts Nathan on to explain. She’s thoroughly relieved, but she’s still considering going to Mordhaus to see him. She implores of Nathan, "Take care of him, all right?"

-Offscreen, in the time between Dethhealth and Dethmas, Pickles goes to London for a while to appease St. Cecilia, and to their mutual surprise, it's not really all that different from how it was when they were actually together. There's lots of cuddling and kissing and great sex and just... Hanging out. It's easy for them to be together. They have their share of problems, but the old spark between them is still there. Pickles is honestly a little scared of that: What if he falls for her all over again just for her to break his heart like she did last time? The fact that she has Magnus's guitar makes him doubly suspicious. He starts drinking harder than ever to drown out the thoughts of her.

-In Rehabklok, when Pickles's drinking is brought to the attention of the band and he's sent to rehab, he tries for a while to blame it on St. Cecilia. She broke his heart, and he drinks to cope. It makes perfect sense, until he starts to really think about it and realizes that he's equally at fault for how their relationship (And also SnB) fell apart. He realizes, after many years, that he hurt her as badly as she hurt him. And that makes him feel even worse. He talks the doctor into letting him call her to apologize, but it doesn't go well: She's a little offended that he would even consider blaming her for his drinking, given he was a drunk long before they met. "Is that what I am to you now? An excuse to get drunk and act a fool?" Not long after that, Pickles realizes the real cause for his drinking.

-Just before Charles goes to speak to the UN in Doublebookedklok, he calls St. Cecilia and cryptically asks her if she speaks Latin. She owes him a favor for getting her out of some legal trouble, so she can't really refuse. Several months before, she punched a scummy paparazzo who called Magnus washed-up, and Charles used his reeducation program to keep those involved from pressing charges or damaging St. Cecilia's reputation.

-Season 4:

-In Fanklok, before Charles meets with the band to discuss Klokikon, he welcomes St. Cecilia to Mordhaus and presents her with an ancient-looking journal that belonged to Aurelius Isambard, one of the original prophets of the Church of the Black Klok. She's taken down to the basement, where she's introduced to Edgar Jomfru, and gets to work.

-In Diversityklok, after he's spoken to Edgar, Charles speaks to St. Cecilia. He finds her engrossed, but thoroughly worried. She asks if this is real, and she's even more worried when he tells her it is.

-Offscreen, St. Cecilia has been hard at work translating the journal, and she's come to a passage that seems to describe the growing tension between the band. It also mentions an approaching star, and she takes to sitting on the roof at night to observe the sky.

-In Prankklok, when Pickles tells Nathan that he's not allowed to drink any tequila during their friender-bender, Nathan tells him he can't visit St. Cecilia when they stop in London. Pickles reluctantly agrees. Not long after, we see Pickles on his phone, though, debating on calling her just before he notices the storm warning.

-Offscreen, St. Cecilia approaches Charles about a phrase repeated over and over in the journal: Fata sidus oritur, the star of fate is born.

-After Charles breaks the news about Ice Festival to Skwisgaar in Bookklok, he goes to speak with St. Cecilia and Edgar in the basement. She's tacked two star maps to the wall: One from the previous week and one from the previous night. There's a spot near the center of the first map that seems bigger on the second one. She looks like the world is ending when she tells him it's the Doomstar. It's real. It's coming? When? Soon, she says. Far too soon.

-When Charles tells the boys he's going out of town in Dethcamp, it's to take St. Cecilia to an observatory, where they meet with Ishnifus and spend a few days tracking the Doomstar's movement as it comes closer and closer to Earth.

-In Going Downklok, when Pickles shows up all decked out for his meeting with Abigail, Nathan is quick to ask, "Don't you have a girlfriend?" Pickles insists he doesn't; He and St. Cecilia was hurt and angry the last time they spoke. On top of that, he believes she's all the way in London, and Abigail is right there.

-Offscreen, between Dethdinner and Breakup Klok, St. Cecilia is tagged in the video of Pickles leaving Dethklok by a drunken Toki. She's incredibly hurt. Pickles has nothing, he said. She, apparently, is nothing.

-In Breakup Klok, Pickles tries to call St. Cecilia to invite her to his wine tasting, but she refuses to answer and sends him straight to voicemail. Towards the end of the episode, after the escape from Salacia, Charles requests a check-up on Edgar and St. Cecilia back at Mordhaus, and Pickles is stunned and angry to learn that she's been more or less within arm's reach for months. Had he known, he's certain things would have been different-- He wouldn't have tried to make a move on Abigail and he wouldn't have fucked up his chance to get back with St. Cecilia again.

-Offscreen, St. Cecilia speaks to Charles about staying at a hotel for a few days, just until Roy Cornickelson's funeral, after which she'll return to Mordhaus and her translation work. The day of the funeral, though, she receives a call from Magnus telling her she absolutely cannot attend, as he can't guarantee her safety. It's the last time she has contact with him before his death. We also see her watching the news about Dethklok's breakup and the insinuation that Abigail caused it, and St. Cecilia chucks a bottle at the TV, mirroring Pickles's actions in SnB II.

-In Church of the Black Klok, St. Cecilia is fetched from the hotel by Klokateers and taken to the Dethsub, where she meets with Charles, pointedly ignores Pickles, and goes to work with Edgar instead.

-The Doomstar Requiem:

-In "One of Us Must Die," St. Cecilia can be seen on one of the slides, staring up into the sky with Isambard's journal held to her chest. Towards the end of the song, reading from the book, she sings, "Dethklok, they must be rejoined/Evil, it must be destroyed/No more apathetic stoics/They can learn to be heroic/Write the song that will be our salvation..."

-In "Training," while carrying the journal, she sings the lyrics, "As the prophecy foretold, the Doomstar has been born/And you all will be endowed with a power known to none." Nathan, Skwisgaar and Murderface are looking at the art of the Prophecy, but Pickles is watching her. Ishnifus places a hand upon her shoulder, and they sing together, "The Deth lights are within you all waiting to be woken/And when the five are united, the evil will be broken," in a show of solidarity.

-In "En Antris et Stella Fatum Cruenti," just after Ishnifus is killed and the Doomstar goes red, we see a shot of Charles, Edgar and St. Cecilia at the Church, watching the sky.

-In "Morte Lumina," in a mirror to Nathan and Abigail's kiss, we see Pickles approach St. Cecilia, and she presses a kiss to his palm (Which is a really significant gesture between them) before he pulls her into his arms.

Trivia:

-The stars on her cheeks are actually a makeup trick, as she's afraid to have a needle so close to her eyes.

-She smokes Honeyrose Cherry cigarettes (Which have roughened her voice a bit), but she doesn't drink to excess, save when she's with Pickles. He's a terrible influence on her, but she adores him just the same. Considering him and Magnus, she has rather bad taste in men.

-Her signature scent is Estée Lauder's Cinnabar, which features notes of jasmine, orange blossom, cloves, and patchouli. She uses a cinnamon body oil when she wants to get Pickles's attention. It always works.

-She wants nothing more than to be loved, but she's keenly aware of the fact that most of the people who "love" her only want to coast on her fame. It's resulted in her having a hard time trusting people. The fact that Pickles and the rest of Dethklok don't need to coast off her is part of why she likes them so much.

-She's an iced coffee addict, and she prefers chocolate, caramel, or hazelnut varieties.

-She was raised Catholic, and while she lapsed a long time ago, she has occasional bouts of Catholic Guilt. Her name is related to her religion, as St. Cecilia is the patron saint of music.

-Her preferred alcohol is Bombay Sapphire gin, though she also likes white wine and champagne.

-She's a plant mom. Her flat is full of plants, including a little devil's tongue cactus she bought at a farmer's market in LA when she first came to America. It's traveled the world with her! It lived in the cupholder of Snazz's van for several years, and now it lives in her kitchen, perched on top of the microwave.

-She has a pretty serious oral fixation. She's always got something in her mouth: A cigarette, a pen, a popsicle, someone's fingers, a dick. Depends on her mood. Getting her tongue pierced helped a little, as she can play with the stud, but some habits just can't be broken.

-She and the rest of Stiletto own a condo building in London together, and she naturally has the penthouse to herself. It's very airy and open, with lots of mirrors and plants and exposed brick. One corner of her living room is just a huge window that looks out on the city. It's her favorite feature. Magnus is too nervous to go near it.

#this is a lot but i feel like she feels like a real character almost #Metalocalypse #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #william murderface #charles offdensen #magnus hammersmith #mtl #my mtl #st. cecilia jameson

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traincat · 3 years

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I feel like I've read a ton, but I'm honestly still pretty new to comics rn. That being said... What is one more day? Ik we don't like it and it happened a while ago, but that's about it [,=

Time for Spider-Man History With Traincat: Highly Controversial Storylines! And that feeling is totally normal with comics with huge canons -- you can read a ton and still have some fairly big blindspots in your understanding of the total picture. That being said, this is kind of a big one, both in terms of Spider-Man history/canon and in terms of how Spider-Man fandom functions. I would say probably no other storyline has had quite as much impact on how the fandom views and interacts with the source material as One More Day/Brand New Day. It's been the Wild West out here ever since it happened. (Which was in 2007, so like, yes, fairly long ago, especially when you look at how Spider-Man canon has evolved since, but in the grand scheme of things, also kind of recent. One More Day is not old enough to rent a car.)

So when people talk about Spider-Man's One More Day, they're usually actually talking about two related arcs: One More Day and Brand New Day. For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to be covering both. For the sake of transparency, I am going to admit that I think One More Day, as a self-contained story, is good, actually. This is controversial! I admit that! But I stand by my stupid opinions on this blog, for some reason. I think One More Day when you examine it on its own, by which I mean you ignore the decade and a half worth of canon that came after it, as a Spider-Man story and as a PeterMJ-centric story holds up under scrutiny and that people who don't like it don't like complicated love stories and might actually throw their own mothers under buses. No offense to the OMD haters. Little bit of offense to the OMD haters. Brand New Day, which is the continuation of One More Day, on the other hand -- largely bad. Very largely bad.

But let's backtrack. One More Day is a four issue crossover storyline that takes place directly after Civil War, during which Iron Man and Captain America got divorced and divvied up the superhero community and Spider-Man made some startlingly bad decisions and made a fugitive out of himself and his family in a manner that got Aunt May shot, and Spider-Man: Back in Black (Amazing Spider-Man #539–543) which examines Peter's actions immediately after Aunt May is shot and ends with him humiliating the Kingpin in front of an entire prison. One More Day consists of Amazing Spider-Man #544 -> Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #24 -> Sensational Spider-Man v2 #41 -> Amazing Spider-Man #545. In One More Day, Aunt May is dying, all of Peter's efforts to save her have thus far failed, and, consumed by guilt, he is rapidly running out of time. Approached by Mephisto, a literal demon from hell, Peter is offered a deal: Aunt May will live -- and Peter's identity, which was previously revealed to the world at large during Civil War, will once again be hidden from the memories of all but a select few -- if Peter trades him his marriage to Mary Jane. Peter and Mary Jane struggle with this, but eventually both agree to the deal. The clock strikes twelve, the deal is done, and Peter and Mary Jane's marriage fades into history.

(ASM #545) A reasonably simple premise for a story that caused so many problems -- most, I would argue, not actually the original story's fault. So obviously, this was an unpopular move -- Peter and Mary Jane had for a long time been a fan favorite Marvel couple, and in a fictional universe where most relationships are doomed as soon as they begin, the enduring Spider-Marriage was sacred ground. And then, with a snap of its fingers, it was gone: Peter wakes up in Aunt May's house, no longer married, with Mary Jane out of the picture. (She would not return to the book on any sort of consistent basis for over 50 issues.) In the wake of One More Day began Brand New Day, which is basically what it sounds like: a promised "brand new day" of "exciting" Spider-Man content and a publishing schedule where Amazing Spider-Man came out three times a month. (Which sounds good on paper but I think in practice caused more problems than it created good storylines.) Peter, newly single again, had new love interests! And also Harry Osborn was alive again for some reason! I generally like Harry's post-BND stories so that part's fine with me.

But overall? Brand New Day is a mess. It knows it wants to tread new and exciting ground with Peter -- tell new stories! ensnare new readers! make them fork out for a book three times a month. -- but it doesn't know what those stories should be. Readers who were invested in Peter and Mary Jane's relationship -- a major facet of Spider-Man comics for decades at that point -- felt rightfully betrayed that the marriage could be so easily traded in and that Mary Jane herself, perhaps the second most important figure in Spider-Man comics after Peter, could be tossed aside. From a personal point of view, I think Brand New Day fails in large part because it abandons what has always made Spider-Man such a compelling series, and that's the mix of Peter's personal life with his vigilante life. BND sees Peter with new friends, new jobs, new love interests, etc -- it is very much a brand new day! But it isn't a better day compared to the stories that came before it. I do like some post-BND stories, especially American Son (ASM #595-599) and Grim Hunt (ASM #634-637), but compared to pre-BND where I think the majority of canon is good, it's a very lacking body of work that is hurt by the way it divorced itself from the PeterMJ marriage as Spider-Man's central relationship.

"But Traincat, I thought you said you liked One More Day?" Yeaaaaah. I do. This is why I keep saying I like One More Day on its own merits, and not on the merits of the stories it opened the doors for. I like a good romantic tragedy in fiction, and the way Peter and Mary Jane's final scene in One More Day plays out is beautiful. I like the idea of Peter caught in this impossible situation, being asked to choose between two women he loves more than his own life. A really common criticism I see leveled against One More Day is that Peter should have chosen his relationship with Mary Jane over May's life, which is -- okay, I think it's weird that people keep insisting on this, not in the least because by asking Peter to sacrifice his aunt's life they're essentially demanding he commit a callous, out of character act in order to further his own interests. It's also weird because the thing is, Peter already chose Mary Jane over May -- that's what gets them into this situation. It's literally in the scene where May is shot:

(ASM #538) When the gun goes off, Peter's spider-sense kicks in, and he covers Mary Jane, leaving May in the path of the bullet. He does choose Mary Jane over May, regardless of whether he realized what he was doing. And that's why he can't make that choice a second time. His actions in One More Day do make sense for him as a character, whether or not any individual reader likes them, and Mary Jane's actions make sense, too -- after all, she's the one who ultimately tells Mephisto that they agree to the deal when Peter can't bring himself to voice it.

A lot of people also like to nitpick One More Day by going, well, why could (x) or (y) with life saving powers save Aunt May which is like -- yeah, I guess, but if we're going to ask that about this specific comic book near death setup, you kind of have to do it with every single one, and I'm not going to stake every single moment of comic book drama on whether or not that gold kid from the X-Men was busy at the time. Comics are soap operas in flimsy paper form: serialized longform storytelling that relies heavily on melodrama. Sometimes you have to go with things. Sometimes you sell your marriage to the devil. Stuff happens. That in and of itself doesn't make One More Day a bad story -- and while some people blame the Spider-Marriage's dissolution entirely on One More Day, I think that's a little shortsighted when you look at the history of Spider-Man since the turn of the century. It's clear -- and Marvel themselves have been perhaps a little too open about this -- that Marvel in the past few decades has had trouble with the direction they want to take Spider-Man. They WANTED Spider-Man to appeal to a distinctly youthful audience that they didn't think they were actually reaching -- understandable, considering that Marvel nearly went bankrupt around 2000 and was saved by Ultimate Spider-Man, an out of main continuity series which retold Spider-Man from the beginning and focused heavily on Peter as a teen -- but the problem was Spider-Man in the main continuity was at that point in canon a happily married man who was pushing the dreaded 30 whether or not they wanted to admit that. This is also why Marvel has continually pivoted away from Spider-Man having kids, because they feared that making him a dad would age him too much and make him unrelatable to their coveted audience of Teens. (This is also why almost every new Spider-Man property, especially the live action movies, perpetually stick him back into high school, despite that occupying a very small slice of 616 canon.) So around the year 2000, they started trying things in relation to the Spider-Marriage, which was viewed as a major problem -- after all, what's more adult than being married and liking your wife. First, they had Mary Jane presumed dead. Then, they had Mary Jane and Peter separate. Then, when Mary Jane and Peter had only recently gotten back together, One More Day struck. If One More Day specifically hadn't gone the way it had, it's pretty clear that the Spider-Marriage was going to go one way or another -- it's a little bit of a shame it happened when it did, because OMD is the end of J Michael Straczynski's run, and JMS wrote a really beautiful Peter and MJ relationship. But Marvel as a company and especially editor in chief at the time Joe Quesada viewed Peter and Mary Jane's relationship as a major problem in how they wanted to portray Spider-Man and thought that striking the relationship from the books would allow them more freedom in their portrayal of him as younger and more relatable to their Desired Audience of people who I guess really wanted to see Peter sleep with characters who weren't Mary Jane.

(ASM #546. Younger! Fresher! Less attached! Kissing random women in the club!)

The problem with One More Day has always been in the follow through -- from the content of Brand New Day to the pacing of events to the fact that Marvel withheld key information for such a long time that it allowed misinformation to thrive. After all, what does it MEAN to trade Peter and Mary Jane's marriage to the devil? It altered the events of canon in Peter and the majority of other characters' memories so that the marriage didn't exist, but it left people wondering -- did the relationship as they remembered it existed? How much of Spider-Man canon was altered? And the answers didn't come for over 100 issues of Amazing Spider-Man. One Moment In Time or OMIT (Amazing Spider-Man #638-641), which revealed that while Peter and Mary Jane never got married in the altered canon they did continue their long committed relationship up until just after Civil War, was published in 2010, so essentially readers were hung out to dry without answers for three years. That's a long time to string people along, but not as long as it took Marvel to confirm that the popular fan theory that Mary Jane retained her memories of the original timeline as part of her own deal with Mephisto was also true, which happened this year. I would say, at least from my perspective, a lot of the frustration doesn't come from the individual One More Day storyline so much as how Marvel has continually dragged out the aftermath, using the promise of a Spider-Marriage return to keep fans on the hook. Which is why One More Day continually comes up in discussion of current Spider-Man, because Spencer's run has relied very heavily on imagery from that period with a serious question of whether or not there actually was going to be payoff, something which is still up in the air.

This has been Spider-Man History With Traincat, brought to you by anonymice like you.

#traincat talks comics #long post #*replies

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theluckiestlb · 3 years

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Ok so I just had this thought. In Chat Blanc Gabriel finds out that Adrien is Chat and is immediately giddy and has zero qualms about beating up his son both physically and emotionally. But in other episodes Gabriel becomes concerned about Adrien’s safety, such as when Gorilla dropped Adrien off a building. What if that’s not Gabriel being ooc? What if Gabriel is completely aware of there needing to be an equivalent exchange and so he knows that one day he will have to trade Adrien for Emilie?! So all that concern is not the kind a father has for his child but the kind a villain has for an asset. It’s part of why Gabriel keeps Adrien so isolated. Gabriel seems to go out of his way to make sure Adrien doesn’t have friends. In general Gabriel doesn’t care to make Adrien happy but also if he is planning to have Adrien go missing one day then it’s best if Adrien doesn’t have any friends who care about him. Then there won’t be anyone who cares enough to look deeper or ask questions if Adrien dies or goes missing because Adrien was completely alone. I mean once Gabriel has his wife back they can always have more kids. And Gabriel has Adrien model so that his son can be kept occupied but also Adrien looks a lot like his mother so he is a way to keep Emilie alive in Gabriel’s memories until he gets his wife fully back.

Well, I agree and disagree with this take for various reasons. If some believe Gabriel’s actions in Chat Blanc are ooc/not canon, that would imply the same is applicable for Adrien and Marinette (which obviously isn’t the case).

Gabriel’s relationship with fatherhood is undoubtedly complicated.

The chosen miraculous of a wielder is very telling of their character and personal values. Marinette has an unwavering sense of justice—she goes out of her way to solve the problems of others through creativity and ingenuity. This is reflected in her miraculous’ powers of creation and healing. Adrien, on the other hand, acts impulsively. His decision-making is chaotic—he dives into situations headfirst and sacrifices himself without hesitation. At its most extreme, this behavior can be self-destructive, which mirrors the black cat miraculous.

Gabriel is no exception. He manipulates those around him as a means to an end—the butterfly miraculous uses the emotions of victims to serve its wielder.

The miraculous serve as juxtapositions as well. Marinette is clumsy and arguably unlucky in many aspects of life. Adrien’s life is severely restricted, forcing him to be reserved as a result. In addition to that, winning the genetic lottery, being born into wealth, and wielding influence are all forms of luck (though it doesn’t negate the abuse he suffers).

The butterfly miraculous gives its wielder the power of empathy an acute understanding/feeling of emotions. These abilities elude Gabriel completely, he is simply incapable of it—which is a major problem when it comes to parenting.

There are notable parallels between Gabriel’s feelings for Emilie and Snape’s for Lily Evans. Both men are infatuated with the women. They act possessively and feel entitled to having said relationships. Snape disregarded Lily’s wishes—he manipulated others and sought power by doing unspeakable things.

From the contextual clues left so far, Emilie wouldn’t approve of Gabriel’s actions and the abuse/endangerment of their son.

He doesn’t respect her as an individual. His grief has devolved into an obsession.

This is not love.

Which extends to Adrien as well.

So yes, from Gabriel’s perspective, conscious or not, Adrien is just an extension of his wife. A substitute for the target of his obsession.

This is reinforced in The Collector. He objectifies Adrien and equates him to the grimoire. As mentioned, Gabriel incapable of empathy. His concern is genuine, but it’s not that of a parent for a child. His son is a living part of Emilie. His wife.

To him, Adrien is his literal possession.

It’s important to note that Gabriel willing to move heaven and earth to retrieve Emilie—so I highly doubt he would want to sacrifice her son. Not for Emilie’s benefit, but simply because the concept of Adrien is so deeply intertwined with her.

It speaks to the sheer depth of his obsession.

#asks #ml #miraculous ladybug #Gabriel Agreste #Adrien Agreste #Emilie Agreste #metas #chat blanc #the collector #perthshirecottage #i've just learned that quotation marks should be used for the titles of episodes rather than italics #but we're to far gone and i have to maintain the aesthetic #in conclusion I don't think he wants to sacrifice adrien #but the reasoning isn't good

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chromium7sky · 3 years

Text

The Devil wears Armani | chapter 12

A/n: I'm really sorry for the long hiatus of this au 😭. Finally got some spark about this update and I hope you guys enjoy it. Btw, guess who finally meet Raven? 😆😆

Raven finally reached her home after outing and small reunion with Karen. She remove her heels awkwardly as she yawned. It was a long night.

She tell Karen everything about what happen between her and Damian and of course minus the intimacy in his office.

-flash back-

Karen land her chin on her palm propped on the table as she listen to Raven's story. "You know, this is an interesting story though but did he knew about Melchior?"

Raven narrowed her eyes. " Why would I mention that jerk? Besides me and Damian still haven't declare about our relationship, I mean, he does flirt me back. Not to mention we did kiss..." Raven stop at the kissing part.

"Men can be complicated sometimes." She sighed as she take a bite from the cake she ordered.

"Couldn't agree more since I'm about to marry one." Karen wiggle her fingers that had betrothed ring on it.

Both designer and ex model giggled.

"I...I just hope Damian is serious about it. I'm quite invested my feeling for him." Raven chewed her lips.

"I hope so, Rachel. I hope he does." Karen smiled.

- end flashback-

Raven sighed on her bed after she change her clothes into night gown. "Gotta get some sleep because I'm going to meet him tomorrow. Should I ask again about us?"

Raven's mind wander about the golden question, her eyes start to droop as the cold night beckons her to the land of morpheus.

--------

Damian watched the E! Entertainment as he tidy up his studio to catch up any news on fashion industry then the anchorman, Josh Dirkmann said about a known designer from Europe came to town known as Melchior Draco.

"Melchior?" Damian arched his brows. Another designer in town? Maybe there's an event? And as soon as the reporter had some short interview with the silver hair gentlemen with black suit.

"So what makes you come to Gotham?" The reporter pointed the mic towards the designer.

"Well, a big company invited me to launched both of our collaboration and they said Gotham fit the aesthetic." He answered as he tug his silver hair behind his ears which earn a sneer from Damian as he watch the interview.

"Do you know Raven the designer?"

" Oh, yes. We did compete each other in Paris Fashion Show. She won first while I won second. It was a tough decision for the judges. Just so you know, between you and me, we kinda close during that time." Melchior slip out some interesting info towards the reporter.

The reporter almost gasped and demand for more answer but Melchior quickly waved away and walked towards the hotel lobby.

Damian quickly grab the remote control and closed the show.

" What do you mean close each other?" Both of his eyebrows knitted together. He closed his eyes and throw the remote at the couch. "It doesn't matter."

-------

Raven now in mess. The phone call came in nonstop just because of a statement when Melchior mention that both of them were close and the paparazzi possible sniffing out a scandal.

She sighed and landed her head on her desk. A hard knocking landed on her door makes her jolted. " Come in." As she turn her head towards the door.

Mona came in a hurry with an apologetic face. " Miss Rachel, I forgot to inform you that there will be a journalist came for your gala interview today. I'm really really sorry." Mona bow her head.

Raven stare blankly at Mona while her internal having conflict. 'First it's was Melchior statement and now interview? What...what should I do?'

Her palm start to sweat but quickly she fist up her hand. " When will be the journalist comes?"

The assistant girl check through her tablet. " In two hours."

"Who from where?"

"Jonathan Kent from Daily Planet, ma'am."

"Oh?" The same journalist who interview her winning success in fashion show. " Well, make sure escort him to my office and prepare our boarding room. Easier to execute it in there." Raven gives a stern order.

Mona nodded her head vigorously then quickly exit her room.

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

She straighten her back as she heard a knock. She breath in. "Come in."

"Ms. Rachel!"

"Mona."

"A journalist came to meet you for Wayne's Gala interview." She gesture her hands towards a young man with curly hair and those prominent square glasses. "Mr. Jonathan Kent."

"Ah, Jonathan. Hi! It's been a while." Raven stretch her hand towards him.

Jon adjust his specs then handshake with her. "Thank you for letting me interview again , Ms. Roth." His face display his friendliness towards her.

Mona bowed her heads and quickly went out of her office. "How about we bring this interview to boarding room? More comfy?" Raven suggest about changing place.

"Yeah, you're right." Jon nodded.

Raven stood up and escort Jon to the meeting room for more proper place to interview.

She open the light switch and pull out a chair. " You can sit here."

"Ah, right, thank you." Jon smiled sheepishly as he pull the leather chair and sit, opposite with the owner of AMZ company.

" So, how long does this interview lasting?" Raven asked him as soon as she's in her seat and lean on the table with both of her hands propped on her chin.

"Well, not long, more or less 10 minutes." The journalist smile sheepishly. "Anyway..." He pull out his notebook, voice recording and a pen."Let us start with, how long you know Damian Wayne?"

"Well...since I was freshly involved in this industry, Mr Wayne offered me to promote myself at Gala." Raven calmly answer as she tried to cover Damian from being involve with fashion drawing class back in those days.

Jon then stopped the voice recording which made her jolted then adjust his specs. "You are the one who have the same class with him right?"

Raven almost gasped but she quickly act nonchalant as she tried to deny it . "Are you try to dig something from me, Mr Kent?"

"Ah, yes. Such as wanted to know more about Dami's secret girl." He smiled.

Dami? Her eyebrow arched as she heard the name. Why in the world he would address Damian that way? "You must be mistaking. We were only in term of business."

"Seriously? I thought you guys were serious." He's moping. "He did ask me about how to flirt a girl too. Man, he's really an emotional constipated." He laughed. "Besides, Dami said he haven't meet her in 3 years after he's graduated."

Raven with her eyes wide as she heard it from him. "HOW DID YOU KNOW ALL THAT?!" She quickly rised from the desk.

Jon jolted as he seen her reaction. " Ah, I guess that's why he keep a secret about his girl." Sweat drop start to rolled down on his forehead. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. Let me introduce myself again."

Jon straighten his back and stretch his hand. "Hi, I'm Jonathan Kent. Dami' s childhood friend and school mate, same goes with roommate at uni and currently, a journalist." He smiled.

Raven tried to process all the information at once and it takes a few moment. "So, you are Damian's close friend?" She point out with as she narrowed her eyes.

"That's right!" Jon's smile getting wider.

"Ah, hello." She slowly put her hands on him which Jon grab it and makes a several shake as he excited to met her.

"It's really pleasure to meet you by the way! For sure if Maya and Colin knew about you they will be screaming or teasing him saying Dami has finally grown up!" He laughed.

Raven sit on her chair with unsure feeling. First the confession, then his childhood friend meet her, and then what? A wedding? She press her lips into a thin line.

"You know, Dami is not that kind of guy when it comes to women. He always thought they were hyenas." Jon chuckled.

"Hyenas?" Raven puzzled. "What's with hyenas?"

"Ever since he lives in Gotham, he always seen his father been in and out with other women who prey for money. Still, poor him having lack of parent's love." Jon sighed.

That explain why he's being hard on anyone. Raven attentively listen to Jon's story. "You know, he has pets like a zoo at his house. From cow to snakes. I remember when I came, This Alfred the cat always sulking and threaten to scratch me."

"An animal lover? That much?" Both of Raven's eyebrow jumpy as she heard it. She could imagine if Damian standing on the field, as birds will land on him, it either makes him look like Disney princess or a scarecrow.

"Most of them are animal rescue." Jon nodded.

"I see..." Then Raven suddenly remember something. "How did Damian took fashion drawing class by the way?"

"Actually we suggested to him. I mean seriously, you haven't seen his potrait and figure drawing, Those are amazing! He most likely to observe the surrounding and draw on his sketch book while on his free time."

Wait. Does that means Damian has a secret sketch book like her? Raven unconsciously put her hands on her lips.

"Still, what makes you suspect it was me? I mean we haven't contact it for a while."

"Other than he told me that he haven't met her in three years, I've seen a drawing that looks just like you at his studio." Jon smiled.

There it is.

Raven sighed and there's a slightly red tint on her ears.

"Why you haven't contact him when he's in middle east?" Jon asked curious question.

"It was because when I know that he's Damian Wayne, I..I was screwed. I mean, Wayne as in Wayne Enterprise. The biggest contributor on east side. Me? I'm just, just an orphan girl who try to rise my own feet."

"Oh?"

"My mother died when I was 14. I still don't know who were my father is and all I got is this necklace from my mother." She showed the necklace to Jon.

The young journalist seems to be fasinating with it's design. "I wonder where did your mother got this?"

Raven sighed as she try to remember. " I'm not sure. All I remember that it's been in heritage for years."

"I see." Jon rubbed his chin. "Well, Maybe you should hang up with us sometimes. I'm sure Colin and Maya would love to see you." He smiled.

"The thing is, Jon. I'm still unclear about between us." Raven chewed her lips.

"Ah nonsense, he really likes you. I can see from the way he look at you."

"Is it? Wait, where did you saw him see me?"

"I think it was two day before?"

Raven slap both of her cheeks. OH MY GOD, HE SAW BOTH OF US KISSING.

"And don't worry. I won't tell a soul, though, I've been warn by him and probably will be dig out by Colin and Maya." Jon widen his smile as sweat start to rolled down on his cheek."Dami has been my friend of more than a decade. I understand the way he express himself."

Raven nodded slowly. " Jon, a question."

"Yeah?"

"Since you are a journalist, do you know anything about Melchior?" Raven voice change to serious tone.

"That Silver Blond guy?"

"Yeah."

" I heard he's having collaboration with a big company. However, another speculation I heard that he choose Gotham because of its mysterious aesthetic."

"Well, uh, there's something I heard during interview. He claimed that we were close during the fashion show competition."

Raven as stared at the desk.

"Been wondering myself too. Are you close to him?" Jon's curious eyes start to lit.

"We do only for a while but the thing is he stole my design during that time which I never forgive myself for letting me get fooled by him." Raven sighed then she looked at Jon. "Wait. Don't tell me you're going to put this on paper?"

"Wait, I get it." Jon again propped his hand on his chin. "No wonder I've seen familiarity design between both of you. Plus you're having a hard time too."

"Uh, Jon?"

"I think I found something to investigate." Jon's mischievous smiles start to paint on his face.

"Now you act like Damian."

"Damian is more hardcore. I'm still on the average level." Jon beamed his happy face on her.

"Well, I think our interview stopped here. Besides, I need to cover some story from Me Wayne itself about the gala."

"Dami?"

"Yep."

"So, nice to meet you, Ms. Rachel Roth. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"It's been a pleasure to spill tea with you." Raven smug.

Jon blinked then put on his mischievous smile.

-------

Somewhere in his office, Damian sneezed for no reason. " Is it me or is this office are getting colder?" He looked at the air ventilation.

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im-the-punk-who · 4 years

Text

The Real People of Black Sails!

Here’s a quick(I promise....I promise this is as short as I could make it without leaving out some really choice shit) rundown of all the real historical figures peppered throughout Black Sails! I think I caught them all but if you know of others please mention them and I’ll add them on! Under a readmore because this is....so long y’all.

Pirates & Maroons

Anne Bonny (possibly 1697 – unknown; possibly April 1782) Started life crossdressing at her dad’s behest to avoid his wife(who wasn’t Bonny’s mom), married a guy her dad didn’t like, moved to Nassau. There her husband became a spy for Rogers and Anne was like ‘Not cool bro’. She met Jack, they started fucking, and Anne discovered she was really good at stabbing things. Resumed dressing as a man and started trying to seduce Mary Read who was also dressed as a man. They did indeed fall victim to one of the classic queer blunders. Anyway, Anne’s like ‘it’s not gay I’m a chick!’ And Mary is like ‘really?? Then it’s a little gayer than you realize because I’m a chick too!’ They (probably) start banging. Rackham’s like ‘hang on! I’m the only dick in Anne’s life’ and Mary and Anne are like ‘you sure are’ and Mary shows him her boobs and then they have some sort of complicated and probably not totally consensual threeway. Then they get captured because, Jack is That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and Mary and Anne had to defend the ship against like, a whole other crew. Jack is hung(not a dick joke), but both Anne and Mary plead stays of execution due to pregnancy. Anne disappears but possibly is maybe referred to later. No one knows. Neat!

Edit: According to sources from this post there is a genealogical record that refers to Anne and it records her death as 1782. Very neat!

Israel Hands (c.1701-death unknown) Israel Hands was a real pirate and Blackbeard’s first mate. Not much else is known about where he came from or his life, other than that Blackbeard shot him in the knee at one point while supposedly aiming for another man. ‘Oops my bad this pistol is from like, the 18th century or something.’ While recuperating in Bath he was arrested after Teach’s death but took a pardon in exchange for ratting out the colonial officials who had been bribed by Teach. It’s unknown what happened to him after that although That Book About Pyrites says he died a beggar in London.

Benjamin Hornigold (1680–1719) Horny4gold was one of the most well known and influential pirates of the Golden Age. Most other pirates sailed under him or with him at one point, and he was one of the founders of the Pirate Republic of Nassau. He never attacked british ships during his time as captain so that he could be like ‘but brooooo I was acting in Britain’s Interests!!! Bro!!!!!’ But his co-pirates didn’t like that and eventually voted to replace him with Sam Bellamy. He accepted the king's pardon in 1718 and became a pirate hunter instead. Bummer. He was reportedly killed in a shipwreck.

Okay listen Horingold in any universe is a fucking JOKE I have to share this passage with y’all:

“Hornigold is recorded as having attacked a sloop off the coast of Honduras, but as one of the passengers of the captured vessel recounted, "they did us no further injury than the taking most of our hats from us, having got drunk the night before, as they told us, and toss'd theirs overboard"” WHAT A JOKE.

Dr. Howell - (birth/death unknown) John Howell was a pirate surgeon forced into service by Hornigold sometime in early 1717. He sailed with various pirate crews until October before returning into the service of Governor Rogers.

Ned Low (1690–1724) N’EDWARD. Okay I’m serious again. Born in London, Lowe grew up a thief in a thief family before moving to Boston. His wife died in childbirth in 1719, so he decided ‘fuck it I’ll become a Pirate Captain’ and did just that. He was known for torturing the people on board the ships he captured before murdering them and burning the ship. Interestingly though, Lowe was known to have a huge amount of regret over abandoning his daughter when he turned pirate, and wouldn’t force married men into his service. He also reportedly would allow women to return to port safely. Because of his numerous captures and cruelties, he was one of the most well known pirates in his day. There are differing reports about Low’s death - some say his crew mutinied and marooned him and he was subsequently hung, others say his ship sunk in a storm, and some say he just straight up disappeared. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Jack Rackham - (December 26, 1682 – November 18, 1720) Really a pirate, really named himself after a housecat pattern. (No, okay, he didn’t, it was because of his threads. But wouldn’t the cat thing fit too?) Sailed with Vane, Anne Bonny, and Mary Read. Was mostly known for being That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and being Anne and Mary’s captain. He was captured and sentenced to hang after the aforementioned Drunk Blunder in 1720.

Mary/Mark Read - (1685 – 28 April 1721) Much like Anne Bonny, Mary dressed as a boy for much of her youth so a parent could swindle someone out of money. From her teenage years on she continued dressing as a man to find work in the military and as a sailor. She did marry but her husband died young and so she decided to become a pirate. Like ya do. She accepted the king’s pardon in 1718, then mutinied on the privateer she was aboard, once again becoming a pirate. Because pirates are sexy. In 1720 she joined Jack Rackham’s crew and sailed with him and Bonny. Cue the whole ‘Hey you’re hot, also I’m a woman.’ ‘Oh, hey, same hat!’ with Anne. In November of 1720, Rackham’s ship was captured. Mary died of a fever in prison(likely due to her pregnancy) in 1721.

Edward Teach - (c. 1680 – 22 November 1718) He started piracy sailing under Hornigold, and built the fleet alongside him and Stede Bonnet until Hornigold retired. COOL fact about Blackbeard is he was a MASTER showman who liked to light slow burning fuses under his hat to scare his enemies, and he relied more heavily on creating an image his prizes feared than violence. He did a lot of cool shit including ransoming the entire town of Charles Town and annoying the shit out of Woodes Rogers before settling in Bath and later dying of like, a shit ton of wounds while battling Lieutenant Maynard. The battle on Roger’s ship is pretty much what happened minues the keelhauling. Afterwards he was beheaded, his head hung from the bow of Maynard’s ship, and his body was thrown in the bay in Bath, where it’s said his ghost still haunts! Funky!

Charles Vane - (1680 – 29 March 1721) Really a pirate captain! Known for being Not A Nice Dude. Sailed with Henry Jennings, Edward England and Jackie Rackhammie. He led the pirates in resisting Rogers in Nassau, and yeah he really did light a ship on fire and 18th centuryeet it into Rogers’ line in order to escape. There’s a note that he returned to Nassau to get married but I couldn’t find any info on who he married so he’s gay now. That’s a rule I just made up. Anyway so at one point his ship got into a fight with another ship and Vane ordered a retreat and the crew was like ‘this is BOOshit’ and voted him out in favor of Jack Rackham. Ouch. Vane and some of the crew that supported him left aboard the Katherine(I believe) but then they got caught in a storm that said ‘fuck you specifically to Charles Vane,’ and he was marooned on an island. He survived! Just long enough for a British ship to stop at the island for him to attempt to board, get caught, and then hung. Deus ex piratica.

(Honorary mentions)

John Silver + Captain Flint (sort of but I’m not kidding!) Okay so of course there are a bunch of suspected origins of the characters of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, but the one I like the most is of two brothers - one of whom had a peg leg! - who captured an enormous Spanish treasure and buried it near Ocracoke island. Their names were John and Owen Lloyd. (And yes, John was the one-legged brother.) In 1750 a Spanish treasure fleet named the Flotas de Indias attempted to sail from Havana to Spain in late August, and three ships were wrecked during a hurricane. By a stroke of luck, the Lloyd brothers had been blown to the same inlet as the wrecked ships Guadalupe and Soledad , and managed to convince the Captain to hire them to transport the treasure to Norfolk.

But of course because they thought the Spanish SUCKED they said ‘psyche’ and just fucked off with it while the Captain was fighting Bureaucratic red tape in North Carolina. Iconique. Owen Lloyd reportedly buried the treasure on Norman Island and the pair became folk heroes in the area, particularly in St. Kitts. (P.s., the Stevenson family ran a sugar production business on St. Kitts, and R.L. Stevenson’s great grandfather worked there as early as 1773 - just 25 years after the epic heist. COOL STORY BRO.)

Captain Throckmorton (Okay not really but I just love this guy’s name) Okay so this guy wasn’t really a pirate captain but he was a Steamboat captain in the 1830s and his name is just too ridiculous for someone to make up. Toot toot, motherfucker.

---------

Queen Nanny(Maroon Queen/Madi) (c. 1686 – c. 1755) The spiritual, cultural, and military leader of the Windward Maroons (who the Black Sails Maroons are based on.) She led them alongside her ‘brother’ Quao although the relationship between them isn’t known. Exact information about her origins are not known but best guess is that she was of royal lineage from present-day Ghana, born sometime in the 1680’s. She did have a husband named Adou(who may have been the same person as Quao? I’ve read conflicting stuff), but they had no children. Many of the guerilla warfare tactics we now think of as common practice were developed by Queen Nanny and the other Maroons in their fight against British incursions. (The trap that Flint lays, covering themselves with paint and leaves, and the pits the Maroons lay in the forest are tactics known to have been used by the Windward Maroons.)

Nanny was a fucking legend okay a LEGENDS ONLY legend. She was one of the most instrumental people in preserving African culture among freed slaves and Maroons, and in encouraging the resistance to slavery in the Bahamas and surrounding areas. She was one of three leaders of the First Maroon War (which the war in Black Sails is based on). She initially refused to sign the treaty offered to Cudjoe because she knew the British were losing and was like ‘Why????? Would I surrender???? In a war??? I’m winning?????’

Anyway Queen Nanny was a fucking badass please read every piece of literature you can find on her. (You should absolutely read her full bio because she was fucking badass.)

Cudjoe (not exactly, but Julius is very close) (c. 1690s – 1764) Likely a freeborn son of one of the original escaped slaves turned Maroons, Cudjoe is hailed as one of the greatest Maroon leaders(after Queen Nanny). Much like in Black Sails, these original Maroons were slaves who escaped or overran their masters, forming free communities in the Mountains of Jamaica. The treaty in Black Sails is based on the one Cudjoe negotiated with the British, wanting an ‘honorable peace’ with the enemy, rather than the continued war and better terms that Queen Nanny and Quao wanted. (sound familiarrrrrr?) I do want to note that by the end of his life he became completely disillusioned with the idea that the British should be reasoned with and basically started fights with every British superior he could.

The English, Spanish, and Scottish!

The Guthries So while there wasn’t ever a female head of the Guthrie clan in Nassau, the Guthries were a Scottish merchant clan who emigrated to Boston around 1652 due to religious and racial persecution. While most of the family stayed around Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, John Guthrie moved to Virginia and his brother James Guthrie moved to Bermuda sometime after 1683.

(James Guthrie of Suffolk County, Massachusetts was listed in the will of John Richardson, dated 7 May 1683, in which Richardson says, “I give and bequeath unto James Guthrie all I have in the world except twenty shillings to buy John Harris a ring and ten shillings to buy John Kyte a ring.” This was witnessed by John Raynsford and John Ramsey.) Fellas is it gay.

Anyway, between Virginia and Boston and James’ ties in the Bermuda islands, the family made a shit ton fencing pirated goods during the Golden Age of Piracy, particularly from the Pirate Republic of Nassau.

A John Guthrie(likely a son of James’) was also a Colonel who was part of the peace talks with Cudjoe and the Maroons. Neat!

James Oglethorpe (22 December 1696 – 30 June 1785) Okay listen Oglethorpe was COOL AS FUCK. He is the founder of the colony of Georgia and is imo who Thomas Hamilton is probably based on. Oglethorpe was a HUGE humanitarian and even before he decided to form an entire colony around people not owning slaves. He advocated for better conditions for sailors, and prison reform. In 1732 he read a letter by a slave in Maryland named Ayuba Suleiman Diallo and on the spot decided slavery was terrible, divested himself of his stock in the African Trading Company, and resolved to include a law banning slavery in Georgia to the colony’s charter. Radical, man.

Speaking of Georgia, and specifically his plantation near Savannah, Oglethorpe actively spoke with the native Yamacraw who populated the land to ask permission and trade for the land he sought to build Georgia on. His plantation was meant to help debtors in London, released without any support, from falling back into debt and offering them a way forward to landownership through indentured servitude. I highly recommend anyone interested in early attempts at an equality based colonial system read up on the original charter of Georgia. (Of course there were still problems, but Oglethorpe was one of the most prominent proponents of a non hierarchical society - including limits to the acreage any person could own based on how helpful that land was to the people who worked it, and communal resources.) Oglethorpe was also a lifelong friend with Tomochichi, the chief of the Yamacraw, and worked very closely with him on colonial-indigenous relations.

Vincente de Raja (birth/death unknown) He was the real Governor and military Captain of Cuba from 1716-1717. He was a devoted pirate hunter and encouraged Spanish privateering against the pirates. Due to an attempt by Spain to increase tobacco profits at the expense of the farmers, there was a large revolt which resulted in many of the Cuban officials, including Raja, being replaced.

William Rhett (4 September 1666 – 12 January 1723) He was a merchant captain and plantation owner in Carolina who served in the colonial militia and hunted pirates. He captured Stede Bonnet and was probably just as much of an asshole as he is in the show.

Woodes Rogers - (c. 1679 – 15 July 1732) The Governor of Nassau who was largely responsible for ending piracy in the Bahamas. He really did offer a universal pardon, which a large number of the pirates took. Fun fact: before he was Governor, he rescued Alexander Selkirk, who is believed to be the guy Robinson Crusoe is based off of! Neat! He really did have a brother who really did die during his privateering exploits which also really did leave him ‘disfigured’. He got sued by his crew, went bankrupt, wrote a book, got famous for writing the book, and he really did have a wife named Sarah whom he divorced shortly after all this happened. He then became Governor of Nassau for the first time. This first term did end in him being imprisoned for debts incurred defending the island from Vane and Teach and the Spanish, but he was released, helped write that most famous A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, and became governor again in 1728. He died in 1732 of just plain exhaustion from dealing with the bureaucracy. Alexa play tiny violin.

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airis-paris14 · 3 years

Text

Wonder What She Thinks 3

Summary: She learns to put herself first and he loses the best thing he ever had.

Masterlist || 3 || 4

I can’t predict my fate but I can’t be his no more… two years enough, few days but my week with you means more. - “Natural” Sabrina Claudio

So why are you still single?”Iman swirled her straw around her glass of mango lemonade. The man took a sip before answering, “Before now, I didn’t feel like my career was in a place where I could balance spending time in my relationship. I wanna do it right. I don’t want to look back and realize my career was the reason it doesn’t work out.”

Iman nodded and looked down, thinking on her on and off situationship with T’Challa. She hadn’t heard from the king in months. He’d been all over the news with his various dates and suspected engagements. At first the nurse was hurt, but she decided that maybe it was for the best. She and Michael had cultivated a close bond with each other. Instantly becoming fast friends after the game night. They hadn’t talked explicitly about being together. She knew that Michael had once been interested, but she couldn’t be sure anymore. They hadn’t talked about her and T’Challa either. Truth be told she didn’t know if she was ready to be in a relationship either right now. “I understand that. It’s great that you’re thinking through it. You wanna give that person your all.”

“Exactly,” the actor nodded. “What about you. I’ve known you for almost a year now, and I still don’t know why you haven’t settled down.”

“It’s complicated,” Zoe-Iman shrugged. “But why? Zoe I’ve seen the way men look at you when we’re hanging out. I can’t believe old dude hasn’t officially snapped you up yet,” Michael leaned back. “It’s his career too. It just isn’t the right time. Or wasn’t the right time. I haven’t heard from him in months so I don’t even know what we are either way.” Zoe sighed and frowned. “Zoe, I’m sorry I didn’t know. He’s stupid for that Ma. He doesn't know what an amazing thing he gave up.”

Zoe shrugged, “I guess. I mean we weren’t exclusive or anything but we’ve been friends forever. I at least expected a goodbye.”

“For sure. He definitely shouldn’t have disappeared on you like that. Are you alright?” Michael asked. “I don’t know honestly. It was most likely for the best. I doubt it would have ever been ‘the right time’ like he kept promising. I should have moved on a while ago,” the woman explained. “Well here’s to new beginnings,” Michael raised his glass. “What’s your new beginning?” Zoe asked as she raised her glass.

“My career is finally in a place where I can invest in a relationship,” the actor winked.

****

“Let’s go Zoe!” Kenois slapped her door frame twice before continuing down the hall. “I’m coming dang,” Zoe slipped on her heels and pressed send on a text message. She grabbed her little clutch and hightailed it out of the room. Sylia and Kenois had planned a group outing to a new 70s themed disco that had opened in the city. Named Studio 54A, in honor of the infamous disco from back in the day. With a guest list and dress code as exclusive as the original establishment, she wondered how her friends had secured all of them a spot on the VIP list. She was sure it had something to do with Michael, who ironically was the only one who could no longer make it. They all piled into the Uber black truck that was waiting outside and settled in for the ride.

Zoe heard her phone ping as they pulled off. “You look good mama,” Sylia complimented. “Yeah I haven’t seen you this excited to get dressed up and go out in a long time. Michael’s gonna be mad he missed this outfit” Kenois teased. “We’re just friends, besides I’m mad he’s not coming. He was my disco partner,” Zoe pouted dramatically. She slipped her phone out and read the message.

Michael: I’m sorry Zoe-Zoe.

Zoe-Iman: It’s okay. Work comes first. You gotta get that money.

Michael: no you come first.

Zoe’s heart stopped as she re-read his message before another followed it.

Michael: my friends and quality relationships should always come first. Especially good friends like you.

Zoe-Iman: But I and everyone else understand. Get some rest before your early shoot Mr.GQ x2

Michael: Only cause someone else dropped out.

Zoe-Iman: You’re still on the cover so it counts. Go to sleep.

Michael: Send me pictures and I promise I’ll make it up to you. Just you and me will go. And we can dance your little disco heart out.

Zoe-Iman: Shut up

Michael: Have a good time.

Zoe-Iman: I will. We will. Night.

Michael: Night.

“Is there something going on between you and Michael?,” Kenois smiles as they pull off the highway. “No,” Iman fought back a blush. “Yes there is!” Sylia pushed,”I knew y’all were getting close this past year, but it’s changed. The matching outfits, the way you grin at your phone when he texts.” Kenois added on

“I just enjoy his company,” Zoe shrugged. “Um hmm,” Sylia hummed. The truck reached their pit stop. The door opened and Trina, David, and Camden piled in. “Hey, y’all,” the woman smiled as she settled in. “What’s up?” Camden and David nodded and shut the door.

“Y’all look great!” Zoe smiled. The group was dressed to impress in vintage, and 70s inspired, outfits. “Where’s Michael?” David asked. “Something came up at the last minute and he couldn’t be out partying late.”

“Dang. Good thing I invited T, so we won’t be so outnumbered.” David sighed. “Nigga what?” Sylia stared at him. Trina and Kenois glanced over at Zoe who felt frozen in her seat. “Why would you invite T?” Trina turned to David, “you know he hasn’t been around lately.”

“That’s why I invited him.” David looked to Camden for help. Camden shrugged and sat back, opting to stay out of trouble on this one. Atleast for a little while longer. “You didn’t think that maybe he wasn’t around for a reason?”

David threw his hands up, “I figured the man was busy with being the prince of a whole country. I thought he could use a night out with some friends from college. Sue me!”

“It’s not that,” Kenois started. “Will y’all stop beating around the bush. Y’all obviously know something we don’t.” Camden finally interjected. “All of the women turned their heads to Zoe Iman. The boys leaned up in their seats from the back. “Me and T had a friends with benefits type thing for about the past year, then he ghosted me,” Zoe explained. Her eyes invested in the city outside her window.

“Y’all were fucking and ain’t tell nobody!”

Trina slapped David on the back of his head. “Shut up! You don’t see that driver sitting right there. Yelling out people’s business,” Trina muttered. “What he meant to say was why wouldn’t y’all tell us?” Camden corrected.

“T didn’t want anyone to know. And I didn’t want anyone to know that I was his dirty little secret. These three found out because they came back from some event early one night and heard us.” Zoe sighed, finally turning to look at two of her closest guy friends. “Yeah and she was always spending the night over there. We woulda found out anyway.” Sylia shrugged.

“I’m sorry Zoe, I wish I had known,” David frowned, his earlier amusement gone. “We’ll jack him up. All you gotta do is say the word. He had no right to ghost you like that and be out here going on dates with other chicks and shit.”

Camden nodded in agreement, “You know all of y’all like my sisters. Ain’t no dude gon mess with y’all and just walk away with both legs.”

Zoe-Iman offered a small smile, “It’s okay y’all. I’m good. I’m just trying to move on, and I hope he finds what he’s looking for.” She shrugged, turning back in her seat as the car pulled to a stop. “Besides I didn’t spend two months learning disco moves to not show them off now.

“I know that’s right, and the way that dress is looking with them heels, he gon be on his knees by the end of the night,” Trina grinned. Zoe-Iman turned to the boys, “Please don’t feel bad about it. I’m good, y’all enjoy time with him. He was y’all’s friend first. He hasn’t done anything to y’all.”

“We understand, but he hurt you.”

David agreed, “Him hurting you, is him hurting us. And best believe we gon be talking about it tonight.” The boys got out of the car before Zoe could ask them not to. Once she sighed as they walked ahead, anticipating the awkward night ahead. She desperately wished she hadn’t told Michael to go to sleep.

*****

“What time should I expect you back?” Nakia wrapped a scarf around her hair as T’Challa grabbed his wallet off of the night stand. “I am not sure,” the king sighed, turning to face his father’s choice. “Are you sure I cannot accompany you? I want to meet your friends,” the woman smiled and turned to face him. “Not this time,” he turned, avoiding the disappointment he knew was plastered all over her face. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“No. Goodnight Nakia.” T’Challa hurried out of his hotel room. He slid into his waiting car and sighed. He prayed to Bast that Zoe-Iman was there. He’d deleted her number after Nakia became insecure about and suspicious of how often he was texting and meeting up with her. He knew that dropping Zoe like she meant nothing was the worst decision he’d ever made, but he needed to keep Nakia happy and by his side. However he missed his best friend and lover. She was like a drug, and he was well overdue for a re-up. The future king knew that she would be upset at first, but he knew that he could explain what had happened and they’d be able to fix his mistakes and get a life saving dose of his Iman. What the prince was not expecting, was outside intervention in his plans.

His car pulled up to the club and he breezed through the front door. Once inside he spotted his friends and walked over, disappointed to see that none of the women were present. “The king is in the house!” David stood and greeted his friend. “Stop it. I am not a king yet,” T’Challa laughed. After hugs and daps were exchanged they settled into the booth and T’Challa ordered his usual whiskey on the rocks. “So who’s this girl we’ve been seeing you all over the news with?”

T’Challa sighed and sipped his drink, “She is my father’s choice for a wife.”

“And you going along with it?” Camden raised an eyebrow. “It is not that simple,” he offered as an excuse. “Where are the girls?”

“They’re on the dance floor somewhere,” David pointed vaguely, “but you really worried about everybody or Zoe-Iman in particular?” T’Challa looked at his friend over the edge of his glass, “they are all my friends and I miss them equally-“

“Cut the bull lover boy,” Camden sat his drink down. “We found out you were messing around with Zoe-Iman.” T’Challa’s heart dropped. He and Zoe had promised they wouldn’t diverge their secret to the group. “And nah she ain’t tell us, the other girls did,” David clarified, “they came home early and heard y’all one night.”

“Well what about it? We’re both adults,” T’Challa shrugged. “It’s not even about that T! Nigga you really over here playing with her heart like it’s nothing.” David fussed. “I am not playing with her heart,” the king insisted.

“Then why she look like she was gon have a heart attack when I told everyone you were coming,” David fussed, “cause you making her look like a fool. Out here with other women in public, then ghosting her when your other chicks ask you too.”

“How did you-“ T’Challa started.

“We are not stupid bruh. You used to look at ol girl like she was your sun and moon. It had to take another girl to make you just ghost her.” Camden rubbed his temple.

“Iman knows what’s going on with my family.”

“That don’t make it okay T! You know she’s like my little sister and I hate seeing her all sad and shit over a nigga. And my friend at that! The only reason I ain’t jumped on yo ass is cause she begged me not too.” David fussed.

“She sat in the van after everyone found out and still defended you man. Cause she loves you, and you out here dating other chicks?” Camden chimed in. “I should just go you all wouldn’t understand,” T’Challa threw back the rest of his drink and reached for his wallet. “Understand what huh?” David pushed, “We want to understand but you keep pushing us away, just like you pushing Iman!”

“I can’t marry an outsider!”

The table went silent. “T do you love that girl?” Camden questioned a beat later, his hand stopping T’Challa’s from placing the money for his drink on the table. “More than I could ever explain,” the prince answered. “Then fight for her! Change the law!”

T’Challa places his money on the table, “Who could do that? It is tradition!”

“I thought you were the next king?” David shot back, “act like one and set a new precedent.”

“It is not that easy,” T’Challa insisted.

“It can’t be that difficult either.”

“Goodnight gentlemen,” T’Challa stood and strolled out of the bar.

“Oh shit,” Kenois mumbled as their college friend turned monarch stormed out of the bar. Zoe looked up and froze as his silhouette moved outside. She looked back at her friends once he’d left and they were all ready staring at her. “Go get your closure,” Trina pushed her with a sad smile. Zoe nodded and followed her lover out of the doors.

“Challa, wait!” She called. She sighed in relief as he paused getting in the car. Once she was close enough, he recognized her and pushed her into the car. “Drive around the block,” he ordered before raising the partition. “What are you doing? Someone could have seen us!” Zoe’s nervous smile fell and her anger kicked in. “I’m sorry, I forgot you don’t know me when we’re out in public,” she scoffed.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” T’Challa fell back into his seat. “No, I obviously don’t know that because I thought I could talk to my “friend” in public, but I guess I’m too lowly for that privilege as well.”

“Zoe-,” the king started. “No, just drop me off at home,” the nurse frowned, turning to look out the window. “I apologize Iman,” The king broke the tense silence.

“Um hmm,” she hummed, staring out of the window. “You’re not even going to look at me?”

“I don’t even know the man I would be looking at any more.” Zoe wiped a tear that had fought its way down her face. “I am still the same man,” The Royal reached for her hand and she snatched it away. “Do not touch me,” the woman hissed. “Iman, baby please,” He pleaded, moving closer to her.

“Please what? Ten minutes ago you were angry that I had the audacity to call your name out on the street.”

“It is not like that, you know that I have to keep my charade up in the public eye, there were cameras-”

“Outside of the club. I get that, but you can’t have a friend? It is not like your family does not know who I am. And you’ve been flipping back and forth between women lately like it's a tennis match, no one would even care T’Challa.”

“Those women are different Iman, and you know that.” The king sighed.

“Different how?”

“I don’t love them. I love you, and the media would see it as clear as day on my face if we went out together.”

Zoe Iman froze as T’Challa sighed. “And it was so hard to pick up the phone and say that. You just dropped me like I meant absolutely nothing to you. That hurt me T’Challa.”

“It was not like that,” The king tried to grab her hand again and she moved away. “Then tell me what it was like.”

“I- my father- has selected his top candidate and she became suspicious of us, so I let her delete your contact-”

“But you love me right?” Zoe chuckled and rolled down the partition, “Zoe wait,” the king tried to remove her hand. “Do not touch me your majesty! Okoye, take me home please. I have nothing left to say to his majesty tonight.”

“Okoye, keep driving around,” the king ordered. He grabbed Zoe’s hand and pulled her closer to him, “Let me go!”

“Not until you listen to me!”

“Why, so you can lie to me and then get me in your bed again?” Zoe growled, “Okoye, stop the car!”

“No Iman, listen to me,” The king grabbed both of her hands and fought over what he was about to say to her. “I have to choose a bride soon, and I am tired of lying to you and my father.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I am gonna make everything right,” The king smiled as her posture relaxed slightly, “I promise.”

“I don’t need promises, your majesty, you made enough of those when we had sex in your hotel room last month.”

“But this time I am not drunk,” the king reassured, “and I intend to keep them this time.”

Zoe looked out of the window to think, watching as her neighborhood came into view. “Do not bother your majesty. A drunk mouth speaks a sober mind, and all your sober mind seems to be filled with is empty promises and sweet nothings.” Iman grabbed her things and wiped the tears that had started to fall.

The king’s face fell, “Iman please, I want you-”

“Yes, but just in your bed for the night. Go home to your fiancée,” She sighed digging around her purse for her keys as Okoye pulled up to her driveway. “How did you know I had proposed?”

Zoe-Iman James’s heart broke, as he confirmed what she’d suspected since the night they’d drunkenly fallen into bed two months after he ghosted her, “I didn’t. You just told me.” Her lips quivered as sobs clawed their way up her throat.

The king sat back, the full gravity of what had just happened settling squarely on his shoulders. “Have a good night Your majesty,” Zoe croaked before climbing out of the door that had been opened for her.

A few minutes later, Ayo re-entered the car and Okoye began driving off. “I hope you have made the right decision T’Challa,” the guard raised her eyebrow at the king. “It was the only decision Okoye,” he wiped a tear that had fallen down his cheek. “With all due respect your majesty, all three of us know that it was not.” Ayo frowned before closing the partition to give the young man some space.

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