#but for women there are so many expectations to live up to and it's ten times harder for trans women

[sspiderj]

i'm sorry but Unhappy Campers just makes me think about how it's easier for trans men to pass than it is for trans women

#this is coming from a trans guy before you start to attack me #not to say that being a trans man is easy or necessarily easy to pass as a guy #but for women there are so many expectations to live up to and it's ten times harder for trans women #considering if trans women don't somehow live up to every unrealistic expectation people claim they're 'not real women' #whereas there are less societal expectations for guys #again this is coming from a trans guy (who finds it extremely difficult to pass and gets misgendered daily) #helluva boss #i know it's a silly episode for the most part but i legit can't stop thinking about this

[tasteleeknow]

LIVING IN THE RUINS

minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.

“Excuse me?”

You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 

She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 

He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 

“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 

“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 

Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 

The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 

Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 

She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.

The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’

Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 

You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 

The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 

—

Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 

You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 

He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 

“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 

“God, you scared me.” 

It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 

You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 

You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 

The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 

You loved him. 

It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 

It falls. 

You’re pathetic without it. 

All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 

Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 

But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 

That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 

What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 

Not an option. 

“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 

You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 

“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 

He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 

“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 

You shake your head. 

His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 

“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 

Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 

“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 

They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 

“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 

“Not really.” 

His eyebrows pull together. 

“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 

His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 

You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 

“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 

Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 

He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 

The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 

His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—

“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 

You nod dumbly.

He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 

He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 

“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“I—” 

“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 

His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 

Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 

“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.

“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 

When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.

#lee know smut #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #kpop imagines #skz smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #minho drabbles

[jacaerysgf]

Chapter one: The return to the keep

c.s: You have finally returned to the red keep after over a decade. You see some familiar faces and,,, have the affections of more than one prince? what was going on...

w.c: 6.1k

c.w: not proofread, arryn!reader, basically a lot of set up, the boys just kinda being obsessed, men bickering... i think thats it

fic masterlist!

You stare at the large metal doors of the keep. You had been traveling on carriage fora week now, your back hurts, your legs hurt but you are finally here. for the first time in a very very long time.

The red keep. You remember the last time you had stepped foot in here like it was yesterday. It had been over a decade. You had been ten years old when you left but had been living in the keep since you were a babe. You made many lovely memories, and you had especially made some lovely friends. The children of rhaenyra and the children of alicent. You thought about them often as you were rather lonely in the eyrie with not having any siblings or there not being many other children there,

You were not invited to driftmark as it was purely a family affair and you remember them giving you hugs and saying goodbye, little did they or even you know that was the last time you would see them. You had stayed in the keep, trying to entertain yourself until they returned back until you received word from your mother to return home as she had heard of what had happened on driftmark and no longer believed the keep to be well suited for you.

You cried for awhile and begged your mother to let you go back, even if it was just a day to speak to them once more but she had refused and kept firm to her decision. Until a week ago when she received a raven hand written from rhaenyra herself stating that not only herself but her children had missed you and wished you would stay at court for awhile, at least until you find a husband. Of course your mother cannot refuse the queen so you packed up your things and you are now standing in the keep.

Your new home at least for awhile. It looks different. The area was very busy though that is not surprising considering probably everyone who has a title was in the keep today. You can see them hanging the signature sigil of house Targaryen all over the walls of the keep.

You can barely believe you were back here again.

Your mother hums at your side, hugging the shawl she was wearing closer to her chest. “It smells here. You truly had lived like this for that long?” Jessamyn, your mothers,,, ‘companion’ as she asked you to call her despite knowing the true nature of their relationship, shoves jeyne lightly with her elbow, “You should not say such things. She must be happy to be back in the keep for the first time do not ruin it.”

You do not get an opportunity to reply not that you would have anything to say before you are swiftly lead through the halls of the keep that you remembered and asked to stand relatively close to the throne. The hall is very full and very loud, full of chatting ladies and lords. You keep close to your mother, who glares at anyone who even tries to speak to her, she's not a very talkative women, very content with the small circle around her but she knows they do not wish to speak to her to keep friendly relations.

You are of marrying age, some would even say you are over due on getting married as many girls your age would already be having their second kid. Your mother never rushed your marriage, saying you are free to do as you pleased, she was trapped in her marriage and was more then happy when he died. She did not wish for the same fate for you and allowed you to pick your own husband, which lead to you rejecting suitors left and right.

You know one day you will have to marry, to continue your line, you are to be the next ruler of the eyrie as your mother states constantly. You need a husband, but you do not wish to worry about that now.

You had not expected the keep to be so packed but it is to be expected. Rhaenyra has officially named her heir and everyone had come to bend the knee. The room completely silences as rhaenyra is announced by a guard and you stand tall as she enters the room and greets the crowd.

You don’t mean to zone out, it is not her fault this whole affair is quite boring. Getting lost in your thoughts. You keep your head down until your mother swiftly smacks you on the shoulder and your head gets pulled up.

You freeze at the sight before you.

“Oh gods.” You find yourself whispering under your breath.

Jacaerys Velaryon.

Dawned in a Targaryen red cloak with a crown on his head he looked like a true king. With his long black curls and sharp jaw he looks like he was a statue come to life. A statue should be made of him in the finest gold as you believe that is the only thing that could even come close to doing him justice. He keeps his head held up high as people begin to get called up and they bend the knee without complaint.

You gulp. He is very different from the young boy you had known before. He was a man. A very handsome man. You two had been close when you were younger, he trailed around with you and would beg you to join him and his family for dinner. He was always sweet to you though you knew of his more teasing habits. You had not thought much about him when you were younger, only truly seeing him as a friend but him now?

You and your mother get called up to bend the knee. You try to keep your balance steady as you cling to your mothers arm the closer and closer you get to him. You two lock eyes and you swear you see a new glow in his irises as he gazes upon you.

His eyes widen as he does not take his eyes off you even when you bend down on your knee and lower your head. You try to keep your shaky breath in control as you close your eyes. If he was handsome from far away he was so much better up close. You did not know if your heart could handle this, the way it pounds as you stand and lower your head in a light bow to him. You expect to be dismissed and the next person to be called up but he instead takes a couple steps towards you and extends his hand out to you. You stare at it with wide eyes and look up at him, his expression is the same as before, but this time he has a light smile on his face.

You place your hand in his and he brings the back up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your skin his eyes never leaving yours before he lets his hand linger against yours for a moment before he slips from your grasp and takes the steps back. Before you can even process what had just happened your mother laces her arm with yours and walks you away, You can feel his eyes trail on your retreating form. Once you're far enough away from him you let out a shaky breath and lean against your mother who hums.

“He is certainly not subtle at all is he.” “Jeyne!”

Your skin heats and you cannot bring yourself to look at him throughout the rest of the ceremony. praying the ceremony will end swiftly and you will be able to retreat to a far corner far away from him.

Your dreams are crushed when the ceremony is finally over and you are quickly stopped while trying to retreat to a different room by a guard who requests you follow him, the queen had requested you.

You cling to your mother’s arm as you are lead through the halls, Jessamyn trailing to your right and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You were more so nervous about having to speak to them for the first time in a decade. You all have changed, you're worried you will not be able get along with them all as well as you used to.

You are now standing in what you remember to be one of the numerous lounge rooms in the keep. The guard tells you to wait here before he leaves the room. Your mom takes a seat on the couch and Jessamyn sits next to her. You however cannot stomach sitting down right now, you end up pacing back and forth, biting your nails lightly.

“Oh come on sit down. Do not worry so much.” Your mother pats the seat next to her and you shake your head, “What if i say something wrong?” “Im sure you could say nothing wrong to upset him i mean, we saw the way he was looking at you. You could murder his family and i'm sure he would forgive you.” “Oh definitely.”

“I was talking about the queen.” You grumble towards them and they simply look at one another and shake their heads.

Now you were nervous to see him even more. You would make a fool of yourself. But why do you care so much about making a fool of yourself in front of him? He was simply your childhood friend you were looking forward to seeing again, that was all.

Yet when rhaenyra walks in you all stand and bow you cant help the way as your head raises you look behind her to him.

“It is so wonderful to see you again y/n.” Rhaenyra walks over to you and gives you a hug which you are more than happy to reciprocate. “It is an honor to be in your presence once more my queen.” She smiles warmly at you as she pulls back, keeping her hands on your arms.

“How have you been fairing? Oh you have truly grown into a beautiful lady.” You bow your head to her and smile, “You are too kind my queen. I have been well. Though it does get rather lonely in the eyire. I am happy to be back.”

Her face changes at your answer. She seems very pleased with your answer. Maybe a bit too pleased, her face is laced with something akin to, mischievous? Like she is plotting something though you can’t put your finger on. But she pulls back away and eager turns to the side.

“Of course you remember my son.” “How could i forget.”

He smiles brightly at you and your answer as you bow your head to him. “My prince.” “Jace please, you are dear to me, you have no need to call me my prince.” You allow him to grab your hand lightly and watch as he brings it up to his lips once more. He puts down your hand but keeps it firmly in his grip. Not too tight but not loosely enough wear you could slip out of his grasp easily.

“I am so happy to see you Jace.” The grip he has one you tightens at your words, “Your words mean more to me than you know. I have missed you y/n.” When did he become such a sweet talker? He’s clearly been reading those books that he would always groan about getting assigned to by the maesters.

You notice that your mother and rhaenyra have entered conversation and you could see from the corner of your eye the way the three of them continue to eye the two of you. could they be any more obvious?

Well you will not allow them to stop you from conversing with Jacaerys. What was the harm? “Have you been well?” “Well enough. I find myself missing dragonstone sometimes. It is certainly odd being back in the keep after so long as im sure it is for you. But i am sure to be back on dragonstone in no time.” “Ah right, you are the prince of dragonstone of course.” He hums as he steps closer to you and you can feel his breath lightly breezing on your face. “You are not yet betrothed?”

His voice lowers into a whispers and deepens into a tone thats clearly only meant for you to hear. You take a deep breath attempting to calm yourself. If someone saw the two of you they would surely think he was about to kiss you. Maybe you did as well, but you should not think that.

“I an not.” “Is there any particular reason?” You hum, finally locking eyes with him to see his eyes already dead set on yours. “Maybe i have just not found the right man for me my prince.” You watch the look in his eyes darken at your words, the look on his face indescribably but almost more attractive than ever. “I am hopeful i shall find him during my stay at the keep.”

“I am rather certain you will, my lady.” He says with a certainty in his voice, like he is so sure he is willing to bet his life on it. You are not stupid you know he must be referring to himself. Yet the idea of the crowned prince, the heir to the iron throne, the future king of the six kingdoms, was willingly laying himself out in front of you like this. Many other men would simply be showering you in false affections to get you to spill affection for him but seems more than happy to show his hand to you early on.

“Maybe i will.” He continues to stare at you for a moment longer. The tension between you could be cut with a knife. You’re sure he wishes to say more but he looks over your shoulder before he pulls back, taking a step away from you.

You look back and notice the three women behind you seem to be finishing up their own conversation and turn to the two of you with pleased looks. “I am so sorry to cut this short but me and jace have a couple meetings to attend to.” You look back to him and brings your hand to his lips once more, allowing them to selfishly linger there as he speaks. “I shall see you.”

You grin. “I shall see you my prince.” He smiles once more and follows after his mother who left after a quick goodbye. You watch him leave, he gives you a final parting look before he leaves. You trying to quell the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

The smile on your face does not drop until you look behind you and the two women are giving you amused looks. “What?”

They look at one another before they look back at you. “So when should i expect my first grandchild? Oh i bet it’ll have his hair,” “mother!” “Oh and my baby will be queen of the seven kingdoms, my heart hurts.” you groan as you watch her clutch her chest in mock agony and fall back into the couch. “You are being ridiculous.”

You do not wish to stay here and listen to them ramble about you and the prince so you swiftly begin to make your way towards the door. “I need some fresh air.” “Yes i would need some fresh air too if i was you. The tension between you two.” You let out another loud groan as you walk through the door and storm away, hearing their laughter as you walk down the hall.

You don’t know where you're headed. simply walking through the halls with no clear destination. You decide you will not think much about your interaction with him, or at least try to. You will just relax the rest of the day until you turn into bed. You have never thought much about suitors before what is so different about him? Maybe it is because you have known him for so long, you knew him at what was probably his weakest points of his life and he knew you at yours, maybe it is simply a mutual understanding of one another.

You are snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the loud commotion below you, finally looking around and noticing many people standing by the walls and leaning down to look. You grow curious and make your way closer, hearing the way the sounds of people in hushed chatter and the sound of metal clashing grows louder.

When you look over the edge and gain sight of the men a chill runs down your spine. You can simply only stare at the way his hair flows left and right while he dodges or the way he grips the sword he has in his hands so tightly you can see veins lining the back of his hands and surely up his forearm though its covered by the black outfit he dawns. You’re sure your mouth has been open so long you are catching flies. so completely mesmerized by the sigh below you.

The man he is against suddenly falls on his back and you see the smirk dawn his face as he points the sword to the fallen knights neck. The courtyard is filled with claps though you cannot even bring yourself to move, watching and waiting.

He helps the man up who removes his helm and you can see his face now. Criston Cole who smacks his shoulder and says a couple words to him. You watch the interaction with eager eyes. Criston suddenly looks up and his gaze locks with yours as a look of shock graces his face. You suddenly get pulled back from whatever trance you had been in and meekly attempt to smile at him. He has never been anything but kind to you but you know of his past strained relationship with jacaerys and lucerys so you have always worried he does not like you much.

He looks back to him and gets closer to him, whispering in his ear as he looks at you once more before his gaze drops again back to the younger man in front of him. He suddenly turns around and his eye locks with yours. Aemond. You can barely recognize him, what had happened to the crying boy who would get teased endlessly by his brother and nephews? He looked like a warrior, with that sword in his hand and the shield in the other. You bow your head, not sure what else you are meant to do.

He walks closer to you and you place your elbows on the half wall, leaning over it to look at him as he looks up at you. “It seems the maiden has blessed me this day for she has brought down an angel to greet me.” You flush, when did these men get so romantic? “You are far too kind to me my prince.” A small smile graces his face as he continues to stare at you, you can hear the ladies around you whispering but you put on a smile and attempt to ignore it.

“I am merely stating the truth my lady, you have only grown into the essence of beauty itself. I am grateful to be graced with your presence.” “When did you get so charismatic?” “Maybe i have been practicing for the day you should return to me.”

You shake your head at him as you can’t help the grin that grows on your face. if you were being honest you were not as close as you would have liked to be with Aemond as a child, especially not as close as you were to Jacaerys. It was hard to be when all he did was push you away, though you did always try to apologize to him whenever the boys were picking on him but that's pretty much as far as it had gone. You had wanted to be his friend, even Alicent had tried to encourage him to talk to you but all he would do is run away or say something mean to you that he had not meant.

“You are a fine fighter my prince.” “Thank you my lady. Would you stay and watch?” “You wish to show off?”

You watch as he takes a couple steps back, yet he keeps his eye on you, “I believe with you cheering me on i shall win every fight.” “By the looks of it you do not need me, you would win these fights regardless.”

He says nothing more simply making his way back over to criston with a pleased look on his face. You watch as he turns his head every once in awhile to make sure you’re still there. You stay. You watch him fight with all the different white cloaks, winning every match. It reminds you of being back in the eyrie when the main source of entertainment was watching the knights of the vale train. Though he was much more skilled than those men, much more skilled than any man you had ever seen. You could wager he was the best swordsman in the keep.

As the sun begins to set a maid approaches you. “The queen has invited you to dine with the family tonight my lady. Would you like to freshen up before?” Of course you were being invited to dinner. An odd pit fills your stomach as you think about the fact this would be the first time you would be seeing all of them together the only people you have seen are jacaerys, aemond, rhaenyra, and glimpses of daemon, lucerys and joffery at the ceremony early today though you had not gotten to speak to them.

“Please.” You glance at the training grounds once more and see aemond and criston looking at you. You bow and aemond nods to you before you walk off with the maid.

When you enter your room you let out a gasp as you see another maid fiddling around with a large bouquet of flowers on the main table of your room. “Gorgeous are they not?” You approach the huge bouquet with surprise, “Who is this from?” “Prince jacaerys my lady. How romantic.” You stare at the array of red roses in front of you and allow your fingers to graze against them, bring your face close enough to even smell them. How did he have this prepared so quickly? You can even see that each rose has been dethorned.

Your heart swells at the gesture. “It truly is.” You will have to thank him.

You finally allow yourself to relax as the maids bath you. You could not believe today. You did not know how you felt. You think you are happy to be back in the keep. It is certainly odd to see these halls once more and it is even more crazy to be staying in the same room you were when you were a young girl again. In an odd way it felt like home, a lot more than the vale did. There is certainly more going on here than the vale.

You can help but let your mind linger on aemond and jacaerys. They both cross your mind in an odd way. You do not know what to think of either of them, they were both clearly trying to win your affection and this put you in a rather tricky situation. You think both men are nice, yet you do not know them anymore so you cant say who you like more. You suppose that's what the purpose of this trip is.

This clouds you mind and thoughts all the way up until you are walking into the dinning room. You are early, the only people in the room are alicent, rhaenyra and daemon who were seated at the table chatting with one another. They look at you and smile, “Ah you are here.” They stand to greet you and you wave your hands, “Please you do not need to stand up. I am merely a lady.” “Oh nonsense you are pretty much family.” You smile warmly at them rhaenyra urges you to take a seat.

You pull out a chair in the middle, allowing you to sit in direct eye sight of them who all look upon you. “You look wonderful.” You thank them and awkwardly fiddle with the fabric of your dress under their gaze. “I am hoping you day went well, i apologize again for leaving so suddenly.” You shake your head, “It had gone well my queen. do not fret. I spent it in the training yard.” “The training yard?” “Yes my lady, prince aemond had asked me to stay and watch him practice.”

You watch as a pleased look graces alicent face as she leans forward, “Did he now?” “Yes he seemed rather insistent i would be his good luck charm.” This has alicent beaning as she looks over to rhaenyra in almost what looks to be a challenge. You watch as rhaenyra stiffly smiles, “oh how wonderful.” Daemon shakes his head and picks up his goblet while chuckling. “That reminds me. You should join us in the royal box tomorrow for the tourney. Im sure my son would be more than happy about it.” You catch the way alicent eye twicthes for a moment and rhaenyra merely continues to smile at you. You look between the two women as you attempt to hide your horror. Were they trying to set you up with their sons?

“I would be honored your grace.” “It is settled then.” “Yes the royal box has such a nice view, im sure aemond will impress you with his skills.”

This could not be happening.

“He is very skilled from what i gathered. I am eager to see him on the field.”

As you begin to pray for a saving grace you get one as the doors open and you hear footsteps approach. The chair next to you gets pulled out and a body plops into it with a groan. “I am starving.”

His eyes hit you and his smirk dawns his face. “Ah lady arryn, the talk of the keep today.” “It is nice to see you prince aegon.” “You do not need to lie i know it is not.” You say nothing as alicent scolds him for his words but all he does is shrug, taking a long chug from his chalice. Helaena follows soon after and you greet her from your chair, remember her adversion to touch and she seems grateful for it as he takes her place next to aegon. Soon enough more and more people flow into the room, you stand to greet the dragon sisters and lucerys who all give you hugs and warm greetings, you feel your dread leave your body for awhile until you sit back down and the chair next to you gets pulled back and jacaerys fills the spot next to it.

“My lady, it is nice to see you again.”

“Always a pleasure my prince.”

He smiles and opens his mouth to speak until you feel a presence behind you and turn to see aemond place a hand on aegons seat, aegon looks up at him and grins, “brother.” aemond keeps a stoic look as he continues to glare at aegon. You begin to stand, “You can sit-” “No. Aegon get up.” The man in question groans, “But i like it here brother.” “get up i will not ask again.” You sit down slowly as aegon rolls his eyes and stands from his seat. Sending you a wink before he walks off, “We shall speak again my lady.”

You say nothing as he sits down, merely a nod of acknowledgement. You keep your gaze forward which just so happens to be staring direction at daemon who humorous looks between the three of you. You fear you might go mad.

The dinner starts with a silent prayer, you merely continue to keep your eyes open and look at the table. You have never been a religious person so you allow yourself to look at aemond for a quick moment who appear to be lost in prayer before turning your attention to jacaerys who is already looking at you. You weakly smile at him before turning away quickly just as everyone begins to raise their heads.

The table begins to fill with chatter as the food begins to get brought out. The three of you however stay dead silent. You are going to die. You look over to your mother to see if you can get her help but she is lost in conversation with alicent. You try not to groan as you fold your hands in your lap. Did things truly have to be so awkward?

As you somber in your despair suddenly a very family scent hits your nose and you sit up, looking over your shoulder and staring at the plate the maid drops at the empty spot in front of you amazed. It was your favorite, a dish that was near impossible to get in the reach due to the ingredients and how hard it was to even get food in to the eyrie in the first place.

“It is your favorite right?” You turn to your left in shock as he begins to speak, a light smile graces his face. “I had it requested for tonight.” You lightly open your mouth in shock, you hear a tsk from your right and a light groan. jacaerys is furious with himself how come he had not thought of that?

“It is my prince i am shocked you remember that. Thank you.” He shakes his head, “I would be a fool not to remember such things about you, my lady.”

You eager take some onto your plate and take a bit, letting out a pleased hum as you can’t help but smile. It reminds you of your youth here in the keep, many fond memories come flowing to mind. You were shocked he had even remember this about you as you two truly never spoke much. How much did he know about you that you had no clue about?

As the silence between you all is much more palpable you turn to jacaerys. “I wished to thank you jace.” He lightly coughs into the cup he was sipping from as he turns to you with wide eyes. “Whatever for y/n?” You do not see aemond glaring at jacaerys from behind you, he did not like that you two were on first name bases while you only called him my prince.

“The flowers, they are oh so gorgeous.” He beams, “It is the least i could do. I would have gotten you more but i was short on time.” “I am happy you thought of me no matter what my prince.” “I am always thinking of you.”

You ignore the light scoff from your left but you do not miss the way jacaerys eyes stray and he begins to glare behind you. You quickly turn to aemond, wishing to avoid them arguing. “I have heard you will compete in tomorrow tourney my prince.” His stoic face drops as he turns to you, he hums and nods taking a sip from his cup, “If you bless me with your favor i am guaranteed too secure the victory.”

“Has the queen already asked you about sitting in the royal box?” You nod as you glance quickly at jace. “Yes i will be joining you.” “Very good.” Aemonds face turns devious and your stomach drops.

“It is a shame you are not competing jace, what ever was the reason you gave again?” Jacaerys cluches the cup he has in his grip tightly as a maid walks over to refill it. He does not allow himself to look at aemond simply keeping his gaze onto you. “I am sad to say i have not picked up a sword in a while i am a bit rusty. Some of us have more important things to do then swing a sword all day. I am the heir after all.”

You wish to throw your head back and groan. The tension between the three of you was so noticeable but you tried to simply look at your plate and take a few small bites from it. You had basically lost your appetite. This was the last thing you wished to be happening. Suddenly a hand taps you on the shoulder and you turn around. A hand suddenly shoots out and you notice the band in the corner had begun to play a waltz.

You smile lightly and grab his hand, not sparing a glance to the two men who grow furious as they watch you walk hand and hand with lucerys who turns his head back and sticks his tongue out at them. Why had they not thought of that?

You both bow your head at one another and grab each others hand as you begin to dance the simply dance. “You are welcome.” You sigh at his smile, “Was it truly so obvious?” “to everyone yes.” “Well i shall thank you formally then my prince.” “Luce please. You are basically family. Well you are too be family soon i gather. Whether it be my sister or my aunt. Though i would much rather you be my sister.”

You shake your head, “It is too soon.” “But it is not too soon for them to be fighting over you like dogs?” You have no reply so you attempt to change the topic. “I have heard of your recent engagement to lady rhaena, congratulations.” At this a blush dawns his face up to his ears. He looked adorable. “She is very pretty.” “That she is.”

For a short while a silence falls over you but it does not last you feel the heated stares of the men at the table. “You have gotten much better at dancing.” “You do not need to say that i know i have stepped on your foot one too many times.” as if on cue he steps on your foot again causing you both to go into a fit of laughter. Lucerys looks over your shoulder as he lightly scoffs, “I am shocked one of them has not tried to cut in.” He spins you around and you are able to get a good look at the men who both cannot take their eyes off you. “Do you truly think they will try?” “No. They are cowards.”

You tilt your head at him and he continues to giggle. The song soon ends and they watch from the table as you two bow at each other once more and aemond tries to stop his eye twitching as he watches lucerys whisper into your ear and you double over laughing, lacing your arm with his as he leads you back to your seat.

“My feet are killing me after that.” They do not understand why the two of you bust out laughing at your words and lucerys walks away with a small wave. You continue the dinner with a smile on your face and neither of them say another word much to your surprise. It is not that you do not wish to talk to them if anything that's the only thing you wish for but not if they are going to be acting like fools.

The dinner soon enough wraps up and you stand. The two men quickly standing up after you.

“Allow me to escort you back to your room.” You stare at the two of them as they speak over each other and cross your arms over your chest. “I am more then capable of walking back myself. Though i appreciate the offer. I hope the two of you will be more well behaved the next time we speak. Goodnight.”

And with that you swiftly turn your back and walk off with a shake of your head. They were ridiculous this whole situation was absolutely ridiculous. You just pray that tomorrow will be better and you will be able to get your mind and your heart in check.

taglist (open!) @smurfelle @venmondiese @winter-soldier-101 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @councilofcastamere @tssf-imagines @atargaryenlover @possiblyafangirl @bibliophile221b

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #jacaerys imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #jace x reader #jacaerys velaryon x fem reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you #jacaerys request #jacaerys velaryon request #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x you #aemondtargaryen #aemond targaryen #hotd #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #jacaerys smut

[alice-blogs-things]

Thinking about Ten standing in front of that glass booth at the end of The End Of Time part two, listening to a man who has only ever treated him like family, who is the only friend he has left, who has never stopped believing in him, tell him that he isn't worth saving, to leave him to die.

Thinking about Fourteen standing on the other side of that glass barrier in The Star Beast, listening to that same man's granddaughter, one of the most important women in his many lives, the soulmate he never expected to find again, tell him that she doesn't matter, that her life isn't worth nearly so much as everyone else's.

And thinking about Fourteen sitting across a dinner table and seeing this kid, the next generation of a family that's meant so much to him, a girl who's already been through so much... and deciding to take her on adventures, to be her weird uncle, to refuse to let another generation of this family go on thinking they're not good enough.

Wilfred Mott didn't think he was worth it. Donna Noble didn't think she was worth it. But the Doctor will be damned if he lets Rose Noble grow up to think the same, to stand on the other side of a divide and tell him not to bother with saving her life.

#doctor who #the tenth doctor #wilfred mott #the fourteenth doctor #donna noble #rose noble

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny chapter 3

Danny shivered as he drove to work. The feeling of being watched was way creepier than he expected. The worst part, he couldn't tell if it was all in his head or not.

Sometimes when he was younger he had felt like people were always watching him, turned out he was paranoid.

Danny shrugged it off and started work.

The second he was in he was pulled in ten different directions.

Danny had been treating a patient when on the TV the news was showing footage of a live battle. A bomb had gone off and rubble blocked the ambulance from getting to patients.

"NURSE! TAKE OVER" Danny shouted, he ran out of the patients room as soon as the nurse was there. That attack was still happening.

If Danny didn't do something those injured people were going to die.

"DOCTOR! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!" the head of the ward shouted.

"I'LL BE BACK WITH PATIENTS GET BEDS READY!"

The head didn't hesitate. Danny was infamous for not following orders but he never seems to fail a patient.

"You heard him! Get beds ready!"

The nurses and interns scrambled to ready as many rooms as possible.

Danny floored it to the location. A feeling of dread settled onto him. As soon as he hit the first rubble blockage his car door flew open. He started dragging the rubble out of the way.

The news reporter noticed Danny.

"Just coming into the scene, a mysterious unnamed man has jumped into the frey. He appears to be clearing the road."

The camera focused on Danny who had the road almost clear. Danny motioned for the ambulance to get closer.

Danny rushed further into the disaster area. He pulled the rubble off of pinned down citizens. Danny put as many patients as possible in the ambulance.

There were so many. He couldn't wait for another ambulance.

"This man is carrying two people at the same time! He's acting like a superhero!"

The head of the ward stared at the TV back at the hospital.

"Doctor, what are you?" He asked himself in wonder.

Danny had a worker from the ambulance drive his car back, he wasn't done here yet.

He thought he had heard it.

HELP PLEASE SOMEONE PLEASE I CANTBREATHE.

Yes, those were the scrambled screams from someone soul. If a person was put in an extreme situation, their soul in rare cases screamed.

This worked on Damners favor. Danny scanned the area and then he saw it. A mother and her child. The mother had protected the child and got pinned under falling rubble.

Danny hoisted the rubble off from her and thrust it aside.

The women would get more injuries if she were.moved carelessly. Danny grabbed a thick piece of nearby board.

He laid his coat on the board and put both hands under the women securing her. He hoisted her onto the boards and then used his belt to latch her to the makeshift gurney.

Danny was alone on this war front. He really didn't want to carry a critical patient alone but he had no choice.

"Hey kid, you gotta be quick. Run get out of this rubble and to the open street, if you do that I promise I'll get your mom out of here"

He nodded before sprinting away. Thankfully the women wasn't too heavy. Danny picked her up and do his best not to jostle her as he made his way through the wreckage.

They had nearly been out when a peace of cement fell from the sky. Danny quickly adjusted the women and thrust his fist into the concrete. It broke into smaller pieces, none hitting the patient.

Then they were out. Another ambulance was waiting there for him.

He transfered the women to the real gurney and sat on the ambulance. A soon as he got to the hospital he was running from patient to patient doing his best to swiftly treat each one.

The entire time one name kept repeating in his head. Joker.

The villain who had attacked, the villain documented to have taken the most lives. He needed to pay.

Danny sighed. He was standing on the hospital roof, a good place to go and think.

The patients were all stable and thankfully there were no deaths.

Danny drank his canned coffee and headed back in. What he saw was chaos. One of the patients had gone into shock suddenly and without warning.

Danny rushed to the ED with the patient. They started performing emergency surgery. On the end it was futile.

They could not save the patient.

"Time of death 1:23 AM" one of the other doctors said in a solemn tone.

Danny gritted his teeth and stormed out.

"DAAMM EEIIT, AAAAHHH!" Danny screamed once he was on the rooftop.

Tears streamed down his face. He lost a patient because of that damned psychopath!

Danny wiped his tears and made his way to the hospitals morgue.

"Let me see my patient" he had to help the soul pass on, it was his duty.

The soul looked like a cloud of blue mist. It glowed and swirled.

"Go, be in peace" it evaporated and Danny sighed.

"It's time for you to go home Danny, you need to rest. You've been working tirelessly and you just lost a patient"

Danny was frustrated because he knew the head was right. He had to throw away the cost and get a replacement because it was torn to the point that it was unrecognizable.

Danny sat in his car with his head pressed on his hands that were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

His car made a low rumble sound as he drove home. Once he got there he crawled into his sleeping bag and tried to forget.

Jason had been watching the fight, ready to jump in at any moment. Then he saw Danny, the way he had pulled those people out of there.

There was a clip that had been missed by the news. It wasn't a professional camera the way it kept shaking but through all the dust you could see a slab of concrete falling towards Danny and then he just... punched it.

Later he had heard that Danny's patient had died and he knew he needed to make a visit.

No doubt the doctor was blaming himself. He knew what it was like losing someone you were trying to save.

Jason slowly slid open Danny window. It's lock was faulty, he wondered if Danny knew that.

"Danny?"

He didn't respond.

"I know what it's like to lose a person like that, especially to joker"

Danny sat up and looked at Jason with rage burning in his eyes.

"If I ever meet Joker, I will tear his arms off"

Jason stared at Danny for half a second before grabbing his shoulders, "I knew I liked you!"

Jason let go and reached up to take his helmet off.

"Don't!" Danny said grabbing the helmet.

"Danny, I'm going to stalk you whether you know my identity or not"

Danny sighed and let go.

"Okay but what about the other vigilantes identities. Once I know yours, figuring out theirs won't be so difficult"

Jason paused, considering it.

"Meh, they'll be fine"

Danny shook his head.

"When I'm kidnapped and tortured and all of your identities get revealed, it won't be my fault" Danny said.

Jason grinned and took off the helmet.

Danny glanced at Jason. He didn't look half bad in terms of looks, he considered Red Hood to be pretty handsome.

"I don't recognize you at all" Danny said peering closer.

"Really? I'm Jason Todd"

Danny pulled back like he had touched something hot.

That name, Jason Todd was famous for his soul being reborn due to a hazardous pit called the Lazarus Pit. It must be eating away at him, probably destroying his mind.

"Shit" Danny muttered.

"What?" Jason asked.

Danny seemed conflicted.

"I am about to say something that's going to sound, in a word, insane"

Danny paused, "I'm only telling you this because I feel obligated to help you"

"Help me? How?" Jason asked with a sly smirk.

"With your situation" Jason had a blank look on his face.

"The Lazarus Pit that you fell into is contaminated. It's going to damage your brain"

Jason's eyes grew wide and Danny could see the sparks of the contaminated ectoplasm influencing Jason's emotions.

Before Jason could fly into a rage Danny grabbed him.

"Sorry, this is gonna hurt but I have to filter the ectoplasm"

Danny bit Jason's neck finding a vein. He began sucking out the contaminated ectoplasm, replacing with his own. He tried to think of it like a blood transfusion.

Jason was too stunned to do anything. The longer Danny was like that, the calmer Jason felt.

Finally Danny let go. He waited for a horrified look or a demand or anything.

But Jason seemed almost like he was in a trance.

"Jason?"

He snapped out of it, his hand flying to his neck.

"That felt...nice"

Danny sighed.

"I'm half ghost" Danny said.

Jason looked at him like he was dead.

"I was in an accident in my parents lab and sort of died, my DNA was mutated due to ectoplasm. It was the purest form."

"Your half dead?"

Danny nodded, "what I did was filter the Lazarus water and replace it with ectoplasm."

"Am I all good then?"

"Well no. I can't do it all at one time since it's mixed with the blood in your veins. If I did you could die"

Jason smirked.

"Oh noooooo" he said sarcastically, "looks like I'll have to come back"

Danny rolled his eyes.

"So are technically like a vampire ghost then"

"I am not a vampire!" Danny said.

"Sure, sure."

Danny sighed.

"So are gonna leave or what?" Danny asked.

Jason grinned.

"Naw, Imma stay right here"

Danny opened the window.

"Shoo"

Jason put a hand on his heart.

"Wow, I can see how welcome I am"

"I hope so"

Jason shook his head as he climbed out of the window onto the fire excuse, helmet secure on his head.

"You can't get rid of me Danny"

"I know, that's why I'm getting a restraining order"

"What?" Jason asked in alarm. Danny shut the window cutting off Jason's concerned cry.

Now THAT was satisfying.

Jason couldn't stop smiling. His new friend had the cure to his pit rage and had powers. Not only that, he was medically equipped so Jason wouldn't have to go to the hospital ever again!

It also worried him. Danny was too skilled, he was a big target for any villain.

Danny fell asleep and he slept deeply.

Danny was surprised to wake up to something other than his alarm the next day.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #dpxdc #Jason Todd #Red Hood #fanfiction #phandom

[chrollohearttags]

little miss pressure • armin artlert

armin was notorious for his wild ways and sexscapades but ends up meeting his match in the form of a girl he’d never expect. And it leaves the notorious playboy stuck on his new fixation.

plus size black reader, (y/n) works in the adult entertainment industry, alcohol and weed use, armin and reader are some FREAKS, reader is very hyper sexual and tbh a bad bitch 😝 (this is nasty, I apologize in advance!)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════

producer!armin has always been a man synonymous with a less than savory lifestyle. Sex, drugs, fame and glory..it was all he ever desired. To live each day as if it were his last and let the consequences happen as they may. His vices were those every other music industry maestro that got into it for all the wrong..and selfish reasons. Especially when it came to women, which may have been his greatest weakness.

Switching them out like his latest pair of Amiris or his brand new Audemars. Picking them up at every illustrious strip club or his infamous house parties..working his way through a ten mile long roster of girls. Comprised of every bachelorette (and sometimes others wives) this side of South Beach. He didn’t care about what followed or if he hurt their feelings. All he wanted was his one night and a good nut. After that, what they did was none of his concern. And hell, with his good looks, he could get away with just about anything. Until you came along…until (y/n) showed up at one of his little soirées. Invited by a friend of a friend, who had spoken all about the engineer and all his antics. About the hits he’s produced, his track record and extremely high body count. Something that didn’t particularly off put you, seeing as how promiscuity was your entire profession. You were an upcoming adult film star, taking the internet and nsfw spaces by storm. A brick house of a woman who didn’t mind flaunting that beautiful body and working it in ways that many wish they could. Sex with you had been described a ‘spiritual experience’ by many. From the incredible head game to the pussy that had gotten many of your bills paid. A month after working with a couple of creators and collaborating with a few porn production companies, it all took off. Your OnlyFans was jumping and everyone wanted a taste of the newest BBW on the scene. And tonight, you were out prowling for some trouble to get into. You had your fair share of good hookups but you needed the man that was going to give you the type of dick that would change your life. It came not a moment too soon when you got some alone time with Mr. Artlert. Trust, he was more than well aware of your reputation and he wanted to see if it preceded you. And the feeling was mutual..

seeing as how you had only ever spotted him with skinny model types and BBL bodies..not that anything was wrong with it but you were a bit skeptical. Not questioning if you could pull him or anything but if he could truly handle you! Would he truly be worth the hype. But after downing a few daiquiris; making subtle eye contact from the room, he’d approach you with that signature smug look on his face, flashing you a toothy grin and boldly greeting you with a hug. “Yeah, (friend name) told me all about you..it’s very, very nice to meet you, miss (y/n). So glad you made it out.” Sealing it with a classic peck to the back of your hand..by the look on his face, he was more than likely assuming that you’d be easy pickings. Insecure and lacking self esteem as a bigger woman. That you’d be happy that someone like him was even looking in your direction. But was he sorely mistaken! Especially when hours later, after chatting you up the whole night and once the rest of his guests had gone home..he got you up to his bedroom and out of that designer on your body. “Are the rumors true, sweetheart?” “Find out for yourself if you’re man enough.” All it took was a shared spliff and a little more liquor before you had him spread across his own bed, toes curling midair as he released loud screams. “Ohhhhh fuck! (Y/N)…goddamn.” Howling from the head he received..engulfing all eight and a half inches of that veiny girth as if you lacked a gag reflex of any sort. “Yeah, fuck this throat. Don’t play with me.” Emitting strings of spit and covering that cock in it. Flicking your tongue around his sack and momentarily over his asshole. All while jerking him off. Never in his life had he had a bitch so nasty and he loved it! God, he loved how you abandoned every bit of your morals in the bedroom. Making his nut from sucking his dick when no one woman had ever done so before. “They weren’t lying, huh?” “Told you..”

but he was no minute man himself. See, after getting slurped up like that, he had to a little something to prove..and he’d do so by devouring your pussy while he ushered you atop his mouth. “Don’t look at me like that, sit the fuck down, baby. I can take it.” Assured in his abilities and absolutely infatuated with your flavor…moaning as he inhaled your scent and flicked his tongue all over your clit. Kneading his hands into that thick ass and hips, even prompting you to bounce up and down on his face. Causing a collision with those heavy cheeks. “Yes! Right there…oh God..” drawing out high pitched wails from your sore throat and sweet juices from that tightness. Coating his entire chest in your squirt. And from there, he couldn’t let up off of you. At least not until he pinned those legs back and put that dick stomach deep. “Wet this dick up then since it’s like that.” With those substances coursing your systems, it brought forth an even nastier side for both of you..if that were even possible! “Ion think you’ll leave me alone if I do.” Your feet plastered to the headboard as he pounded you relentlessly. “This pussy so fucking good!…” cracking only a few minutes and strokes in because he had never felt it this wet and gushy before. It was like being encompassed and coddled in a warm blanket that nestled his dick as if were made especially for him. Folding you into a mating press and having to bare all of his body weight just to reign you in. His one hundred seventy pounds in comparison to your nearly three hundred. He had piped many women in his young life but you were the true definition of pressure. Making loud smacking noises from the slick dribbling from that plump cunt. The fatter the pussy, the wetter and he was learning first hand. Burrowed over your face and feeding you slow, sloppy kisses, along with tons of slaps and spit..another first for the philandering bachelor. He didn’t want to leave it if he were being frank.

“Yeah, beat that motherfucker up, daddy. Keep going!” Reaching down to massage your bud with those coffin shaped claws as you glared into his eyes and done something that would truly drive him insane. “F—fuck! Squeezing me like that..gonna make me nut all in your shit.” Throbbing and fully swollen inside of you. Posing the statement like a threat but that was exactly what you were hoping for! And when he couldn’t control himself another moment, you found yourself filled to the brim and with a heavy slap to your ass, he’d command you all fours where he all but shoved his face between your cheeks, eating you out once more because he loved drinking it in. Shortly after, stuffing your other hole with a thumb and your pussy full of his still erect cock. Placing a foot on your head, beating your shit in and making you arch your back. That ass moving like water nearly drove him insane. The best backshots he’s ever given. And after rounds and rounds of fucking each other senseless..all for footage for your page, the producer was all but unconsciousness from exhaustion. Housing his entire load into your womb without so much as a second thought. He was sure to be sleeping peacefully, even telling you that you could spend the night. Words he had never uttered prior. Knowing that you had gotten him hooked and it surely wouldn’t be the last you’d be seeing of Armin Artlert. But for now..you’d gotten what you came for..

and you’d be gone before the sun could rise.

@lusts1ck 🫶🏾

#cherry’s drabbles🍒 #cherry’s fics 🍒 #aot x black reader #black fem reader #armin x black !fem reader #armin aot #armin x chubby reader #armin x black reader smut #armin x fem reader #musician au #reverb series #producer armin #black reader #armin snk #armin imagine #armin fic #armin arlert #armin headcanons #armin x black reader #arminarlert #snk armin #attack on titan armin #armin arlet headcanons #aot armin #aot au #tw n/sfw #black fanfiction #armin artlert headcanons #armin artlert #armin attack on titan

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

red looks good on you [e.de almeida x reader]

prompt: you find it hot when elisa gets angry on the pitch

author notes: been missing writing for my babygirl elisa 🥳 she's injured right now, so this is me trying to get over the fact she isn't playing with psg right now. enjoy it!

word of the fic: "anger" chosen by the loml @moonystoes

there are mainly two types of players. some are more clean and try their best not to foul anyone. while others are more aggressive. finding joy in not only fouling, but tackling and even obviously yellow card offenses on the pitch. elisa was definitely the second. the french woman had no problem pushing, colliding hard into, or taking the legs right under from her opponent. it was a part of the fun of the game and a way for her to be over competitive.

you didn't mind seeing elisa act like this on the pitch. it's entertaining, that's why she has so many fans. you often tag along with the paris saint germain feminines team when you weren't in classes. living the wag life was fun and you have gotten close to almost all of the girls on the team expect for a certain blonde.

however, sometimes elisa went too far. she would get so angry, her play would get aggressive enough that it showed she obviously didn't care if a red card was put up by the ref directed at her. you knew in the back of your mind when you see elisa starting to push a player a little too much you should disapprove; knowing damn well that if some other player was doing that to elisa, you would not like it. at the same time, can you really be blamed for finding it attractive when her aggressiveness is ramped up.

it's not your fault you have double standards. blame the attractive woman you call your girlfriend.

it's around the 71st minute in the match against lyon. the game has been intense since the first minute with the two clubs being huge rivals in the french women league. players on either side were getting desperate to break the 2-2 deadlock that was going on. sakina has been working particularly hard, but she just keep losing the ball. you remind yourself to buy her some cookies after the match for her efforts.

all the psg players on the pitch are trying to absolute hardest to beat the other french soccer giant. your eyes are glued to elisa as she passes the ball to chawinga who almost gets the ball into the back of the net, but one of lyon's players come in at the last minute. kicking the ball and causing it to fly away from the net. you can tell that elisa is getting more frustrated as the minutes passed. lyon was letting up and she didn't plan to either. putting on the hardest defense she could manage. the expression on her face along with how tense she looked already told you everything you need to know; elisa was about to snap if something happened.

and something did. as elisa was running to stop a ball coming near the psg's goal, she collides with danielle. sending both her and the smaller woman to the ground. danielle is able to stand up quicker than elisa, already ready to shout.

"watch where you're going!" the dutch player shouts out after elisa stands and comes close. elisa looks down at danielle, just narrowing her eyes. the ref quickly comes over to defuse the situation, but the moment danielle pushes elisa, it all goes to hell.

elisa is quick to push her back, sending danielle to the ground. her lyon teammates rush over to defend their teammate. ellie helping danielle up and pulling away from the small crowd of players. it only takes two minutes for sakina to reach elisa from where she was on the pitch. holding onto her as the french player glares over at danielle.

the ref doesn't even lecture elisa before holding up a yellow card. pointing at danielle before pointing at elisa; neither of them were about to walk off scoot free. then the game is allowed to continue on.

it seemed like the situation was put behind everyone as the players put more attention towards trying to score in the last ten minutes of the game. however, you can tell from a far that elisa wasn't over it. this is confirmed when elisa takes selma's feet right from up under her after selma tried to foul eva. was elisa's action out of self defense of her teammate or just her trying to get out some annoyance? we'll never know.

when the ref comes over to hold up a yellow card then a red, elisa acts clueless. throwing her hands up as if she's confused on why the ref is going after her. the rest of the psg players run over to elisa's defense, but it's no use. she walks off of the pitch and into the tunnel so she could go straight to the locker room; ignoring the psg coach who was trying to offer her water.

you just sit back and sip on your drink, watching the rest of the match unfold.

lyon wins with a late goal in the 87th minute, making the score 3-2. the fans in the crowd were not happy and you couldn't agree anymore, but nonetheless lyon came out on top.

you wait for the fans in the stadium to clear out before making your way into the tunnel. not even having to go into the psg locker room as elisa is standing right next to the door. she's leaning against the wall, her usual taper fade is slightly wet. after being sent off, elisa must have showered to cool off her anger.

"i know what you're going to say," she says, leaning off of the wall to pull you close. nuzzling her face into your neck.

"what?"

"that i should control my anger and that i costed my team the game?" she mumbles into your neck. you chuckle before kissing the side of her head.

"i'm your girlfriend not a soccer critic, babes," you say. your words make elisa giggle. she pulls away slightly to look at you. a smug smile on her lips.

"so..?" she says. you roll your eyes at how quickly her emotions can flip; finding that smile on her lips annoying but very attractive.

"so?" you say back to her

"so.. what do you think about it?"

"i thought it was pretty hot," you pull her closer by the collar of her shirt. giggling once you two's noses bump against each other. "yeah?" she says. you don't reply, just pulling her into a kiss.

the kiss only lasts for so long when sakina pops her head out of the locker room. scrunching her nose once she sees what you two are doing.

"have some public decency," she says before rolling her eyes, "elisa come get your cleats off my bag."

elisa pouts at having to stop kissing you, but still what sakina says goes so she pulls away. dragging you along with her into the locker room after sakina.

© thinkingaboutjaedyn

#elisa de almeida x reader #elisa de almeida #woso x reader #woso fanfics

[linkspooky]

The Death of Kenjaku

So I was planning to write this meta the week that Kenjaku died, but decided to delay until we got full confirmation of his death. Something I didn't believe in even after Kenjaku passed the merger onto Sukuna. However, watching this video about death in Jujutsu Kaisen inspired me to finish this post. Not because I disagree with anything the YouTuber is saying, but because they can speculate on the meaning of so many deaths in Jujutsu Kaisen but can't find the meaning in Kenjaku's sudden death. This has led me to speculate why Gege made the choice to kill Kenjaku in the way that he did. What meaning is there in Kenjaku's abrupt and unsatisfying death?

Who is Kenjaku?

The first step in understanding Kenjaku's death is of course understanding how he lived. We actually know incredibly little about Kenjaku's character by design. Despite the fact he's literally in Geto's body, he's not meant to have sympathetic or human motivations to his actions (though hold onto that "human motivation" in your head for a moment). No flashback sequence shows the audience why this guy is the way he is, no single event seems to have driven him to do what he did.

This is what we know about Kenjaku in brief. He is a sorcerer who is over a thousand years old who was around in Sukuna's day. He once had a friendship with Tengen, but found her original self boring and unambitious. He also contrasts heavily with Tengen, who lives outside of humanity, because he has lived among humanity for 1,000 years. One of those lifetimes was Noritoshi Kamo who violated a woman and conducted heinous experiments. He produced ten children in his one thousand years, the nine death painting siblings and Yuji Itadori. He considers the first children boring, because human and curse hybrids turned out too normal.

He also partially blames himself for how boring they are, because he can't create anything that will exceed his expectations, the only thing that can exceed his expectations is born in chaos. He spent a thousand years organizing the culling games, and wants to use the games to create a merger, because he thinks creating a merger between Tengen and Humanity will create something entirely new and interesting. He also believes the way towards the future lies in further optimizing cursed energy, not in breaking away from it the way Yuki Tsukumo tried to do and Maki has.

The only people whose word we have on Kenjaku's motivations are Kenjaku himself, and Tengen's word and Tengen themselves who claims to not know what goes on in the human heart.

From all of the above Kenjaku seems to be a shallow character who's motivations can be summed up as "because I can" and "I want to see what happens." This shallowness is intentional however, as Gege who once praised the minimalist storytelling of Nasu and Evangelion likes to pick and choose what crumbs of backstory he gives out for his characters. We've never gotten any exposition on the Gojo clan, but we have an entire chapter about Takaba's failed career as a stand-up comic. This isn't a judgement of good or bad writing, this is just how Gege writes as minimalist as possible. This is in line with how Gege writes the ancient sorcerers as well, they are all much more shallow driven by instinct or Freudian Id (I desire) rather than the higher reasoning of modern-day sorcerers. Takaba uses comedy as a means of communication and bridging the gaps between people, Higuruma's backstory is the critique of the modern day justice system. Ishigori apparently lived a satisfying life where he was succesful and had good women, but that wasn't enough so he wants to get into a fight with Yuta to satisfy his hunger and feel like he's eaten desert.

It sounds shallow when I summarize it in text, but in the context of the fight with Yuta, it's a challenge for Yuta who for the most part only cares about his loved ones and sees the world through his love goggles to be more selfish and fight for his own desires. It's also reflective of a more basic and instinctual kind of thinking, as opposed to the higher reasoning and logic that modern-day sorcerers apply.

I'm keeping most of this first part to text for this reason, like go back and read the fight with Ishigori and Yuta. If I summarize Ishigori's character reasoning out of context it sounds stupid, but read the fight and it works because it's ID (I Desire) vs. Yuta's superego in not only having to collect points to help rescue Tsumiki, find a way to protect all the innocent people in the Culling Games, and also collect enough points to take on Kenjaku himself so Gojo won't have to. Meanwhile Ishigori's just fighting to get some of that sweet desert, the shallow works in contrast to the more layered motivations of our heroes.

Kenjaku is a shallow archetype fighting to satisfy his baser impulses (in his case curiosity) in comparison to the main characters who are fighting for more complicated reasons and often people besides themselves.

The question then becomes what archetype is Kenjaku. In that case answering who Kenjaku is is quite simple.

Kenjaku is a clown.

It might be more accurate to say that Kenjaku embodies what's commonly known as the "trickster archetype" but I'mma go with clown.

The most obvious example of a clown villain is what most consider the joker to be, that is a silly little clown man who challenges the straight faced and grim batman and sews chaos where Batman attempts to establish law and order in Gotham and make the city into a better place.

From the book Batman and Psychology:

More than any other villains, the Joker and Two-face reflect Batman himself as funhouse distortions, converses of who and what he is. The laughing, jesting, brightly colored Joker contrasts with grim, dark Batman. The Joker is the Joker. No alter ego. The film's opening bank robbery shows him wearing a clown mask over clown makeup, Under the surface there's only more Joker. He gives no history except inconsistent lies. When he finally considers the impact of his demand Batman unmask, he retracts the threat and demands that Batman's identity remain undisclosed. He wants a batman who has no other self, a Dark Knight whose only deeper layer is further darkness.

Is there a better descriptor for Kenjaku then these words?

Kenjaku is Kenjaku. No alter ego. A clown mask over clown makeup., Under the surface there's only more Kenjaku.

In other words, what you see is what you get.

Kenjaku even mirrors Joker's opinion of Batman, he thinks people should be more like him, not the other way around. He's not the outlier, he's being true to humanity's basic impulses of curiousity and discovery.

A more apt comparison as a clown though would probably be Loki, one of the most classic examples of clowning in the shared mythology of humanity. The character who challenges the common wisdom of gods like Odin who suspended themselves from the world tree for eleven days in order to gain wisdom. Loki, who through his trickery manages to bring about the events of Ragnarok for no deeper reason than because he can. Everyone swore not to harm Balder and Loki goes to find something that can harm him because BET.

Mythological Loki doesn't need a deeper motivation because what he represents in the mythology is someone who challenges authority and brings about a change, because in Norse Mythology nothing lasts forever and no era is permanent. Jujutsu Kaisen is also a story about how things should not in fact stay the same and tradition is bad sometimes.

When Kenjaku finds Tengen's true body he's curled up in a tree root in the fetal position, and he killed what is basically the all-knowing, all-seeing supposedly immortal sorcerer that maintains the status quo of japan, it's not exactly subtle.

Kenjaku is a clown, and clown's gotta clown. We don't need any more explanation that, it's more about what he does for the story. However, what he represents, the deep intellectual curiosity, and also a drive to disrupt the status quo in an attempt to see something more interesting can also be analyzed more deeply because they are human emotions that motivate us as well. The same way that Mahito is an inhuman monster, but he's created and motivated by the fear of other humans, something all of us have. '

Before moving onto his death though, I wanna hammer in how Kenjaku really is just motivated by these two things, a desire to see something interesting, and intellectual curiosity by comparing him to other characters.

The Clown in Fiction

I've already compared Kenjaku to Loki and the Joker, but when it comes to someone who wants to disrupt the entire order of the world simply because they're bored we've got to go to the original girlboss.

So there are plenty of villains who go "I'm evil because I'm bored" but they usually tend to be pretty shallow, either shallowly written for the lulz evil characters who just exist for shock value or just kinda dull. No one has ever done it as good as Junko Enoshima and no one ever will again.

For those who need context DanganRonpa is a death game series where the main villain basically has caused the apocalypse, wiped out most of humanity, and then induces survivors in a bunker to kill each other in a death game, where if someone commits a succesful murder they can escape the bunker, but if they're caught in a trial they're executed. Also, if they're not convicted in the trial everyone else is killed, motivating the jury to find and execute the guilty murderer.

Junko Enoshima the main villain and orchestrator of this death game ended the world because despair. She wants to inflict despair on everyone because despair. Because hope sucks and despair is where it's at.

It sounds shallow and it is and Kodaka has said in interview he wrote Junko to be a villain character with zero redeeming character traits, and no sympathetic backstory to describe why she is the way she is, but there is still something motivating her.

If you go a bit deeper into the lore and read Dangan Ronpa Zero, there is an entire book which explains the lengths which Junko goes to feel normal human emotions. The thing is much like Kenjaku Junko is too smart for her own good, everything is predictable and therefore everything bores her. Once in an attempt to live normally, she literally lobotomizes herself, makes it so that she can't remember anything and has continual amnesia constantly forgetting what just happened to her, because that's the only way she can live without knowing everything that's going to happen and constantly predicting everyone's actions.

Junko has whatever her universe's version of the six-eyes is, but instead of lording it over other people like Gojo and basking in her superiority she wants to feel normal, and connected to the world. If she can't have that she tries to make the world as unpredictable place as possible so she can experience it the same way that everyone else does.

Hope is harmony. A just heart, moving toward the light. That is all. Despair is hope's polar opposite. It is messy and confusing. It swallows up love, hatred, and everything else. Because not knowing where you will end up is despair. Despair is even what you cannot predict. Only despair's unpredictability can save you from a boring future.

I'm still not describing it properly because I don't want to go into a Danganronpa essay in this post about Jujutsu Kaisen, but one example I always use is two characters from American Dragon Jake Long. They're a pair of twins who see the future, one always sees happy things, and one always sees sad things. The one who has happy visions is a goth who's very depressed and the one who sees disaster is an incredibly peppy girl.

Jake is so confused as to why the twin who always sees good visions is so depressed, and she basically tells him to imagine having every good thing, every small little surprise, every pleasure taken out of life.

Kara: When you only see good things, nothing's special anymore. All the pleasant surprises are taken out of life. Sara: But, when you only see bad stuff, even the smallest bit of good news makes you happy!

All of this to say what Junko feels isn't just boredom, or a desire to commit evil for evil's sake, but also a full on existential crisis where she's simply too smart so she doesn't feel any connection to other people or the world around her. In order to feel that connection, that connection that everyone else has, to feel like she is actually a participant in her life not an observer she's willing to go to extremes to make the world a more interesting place, to therefore make her own life feel satisfying.

Kenjaku vs. The World (Kenjaku Pilgrim's sad little life)

To connect all this back to Kenjaku imagine the profound existential despair of a person who's lived for a thousand years, and felt bored all that time. Sukuna is at least a hedonist, he gets his fun by getting into fights, humans might be bugs to him but they're tasty bugs.

Kenjaku goes to similiar motivations and has similiar extremes, he's uninvested in the world around him, he's lived a thousand years but has no attachment to the world, to life, to the people around him. I said that Junko wants to be a participant in life not an all seeing observer and that was purposeful language because to bring back an old post. I rambled on this post about Gojo that part of Gojo's problem is that he only experiences observer-to-object relationships or I to it.

Ich and Du, translated as I and Thou is a book by philosopher Martin Buber. His two main porositions is that we may address existence in two ways:

The attitude of the “I” towards “it” towards an object that is separate in itself, which we either use or experience.

The attitude of “I” towards “Thou” in a relationship in which the other is not separated by discrete bounds.

In Buber's terms, those who only experience the first type of relationships are only observing the world around them not relating to them. Kenjaku doesn't relate to other human beings because they are objects, he only experiences subject -> object relationships and never subject -> subject.

Buber also goes on to theorize that meaning in our lives comes from subject -> subject relationships we form with other people.

Kenjaku jokingly says that to be his friend you have to never bore him and be his equal, but there's no one considers his equal because he's the subject and everyone else are just objects.

He regrets he can't sit down and talk theories with Tsukumo Yuki because she's one of the few people who think like him.

Kenjaku is a paradox of an incredibly brilliant man who is also shallow as a puddle that you can stand in and not get your socks wet. However, he tragically can't really form a more complex identity because our identities are formed by our relationships to other people and Kenjaku doesn't relate to anybody.

That's basically the theme of the whole Choso and Kenjaku fight, Choso is a weird aborted fetus of a curse who still has a strong identity and is able to feel unconditional love for Yuji because of the connection of family and the ideas of brotherhood that binds the two. Kenjaku is a bad father who abandoned Choso because they were "boring" but also never really gave them a chance to grow up or be interesting, he just dismissed them offhand and moved on to the next weird science project.

However, his reason for dismissing Choso isn't Choso's fault but rather a case of Psychological projection. It's not Choso who is boring, but rather Kenjaku himself, he said so earlier.

"What I can create, does not exceed the bounds of my own potential. The answer is always flickering darkly in chaos."

Kenjaku cannot look within to find anything satisfying abput his life because there's nothing inside of him. He doesn't have a fully formed identiy he's just ID, and because he tramples all over other people to form his desires he also cannot ever form a full ego. Just like Sukuna and most of the ancient sorcerers he's a paradox of being all ego, and yet having an underdeveloped ego with shallow motivators.

Kenjaku cannot look within because he's a boring person, and he cannot look for other people to find worth in his life because they're just objects, so instead he looks into the void, he tries to change the world around him by spreading more chaos hoping that it will make something unpredictable happen in front of his eyes - and that will give him the meaning and investment in his life he's deprived himself of because he refuses to form relationships with other people.

It's the Gojo problem. It's the Kashimo problem. It's not the Sukuna problem, because Sukuna admits he doesn't care about and rejects things like love and meaning.

If Kenjaku makes the world around him a more interesting place, he will be able to live in it. It's the same as Gojo trying to raise people up to his level by creating stronger students.

So after going to great length to demonstrate how powerful and all-consuming Kenjaku's boredom is, and how cut off he is from his own humanity, here's the part where I sort of defend his death.

Wouldn't it be funny if the joke character killed the main villain?

Let's be honest it was Takaba's kill here, Yuta just camped and killstole. I think part of the problem with people not understanding the meaning behind Kenjaku's sudden and unexpected death is attributing the death to Yuta cutting his head off out of nowhere, and not Takaba's thematic victory over Kenjaku.

Takaba represents a blindspot for Kenjaku which is why the main characters use him as a weapon against him, and he also calls out in a fashion Kenjaku's hypocrisy. First and foremost, Kenjaku presents himself as an agent of change, but he actually has no interest in many of the modern sorcerers and holds a bias towards the heian era as the peak of sorcery. He even says that he's going to bring back the Heian Golden Age to Sukuna at the end of Shibuya arc.

Because that's what Chaos is Kenjaku, things being the same as they were 1,000 years ago. Kenjaku is an agent of change and chaos and somehow his definition of change is... resetting things back to the past because the sorcerers of the past were so much better than today.

Kenjaku goes out of his way to awaken hundreds of modern day sorcerers, and then dismisses literally off of them except for Hiromi because they don't have enough potential for him compared to ancient sorcerers. He essentially did the same with the Death Painting Bros, he went through all of the trouble to create them, then dismissed them as not having enough potential BEFORE THEY EVEN GOT THE CHANCE TO GROW UP.

Kenjaku has a habit of just going BORED NOW and leaving before he even gives things the time to impress him. He does the same with the Culling Game, he set up the death game to push sorcerers to fight each other and bring out their powers, but he never actually intended to watch the sorcerers evolve. He just wanted to slaughter everyone inside to start the merger.

He goes through a lot of potential to set up these situations and then abandons them before they have the chance to even evolve, because they do not have enough "potential" in his opinion, but like his opinion is often shown to be wrong. Takaba represents that blindspot because he was one of the modern sorcerers that Kenjaku underestimated and dismissed offhand as boring without giving him a chance to shine.

That is the joke that Takaba introduces himself with "Wouldn't it be funny if a random comic relief side character suddenly defeated the big bad?"

He's immediately pointing out a blindspot, because Kenjaku automatically believes himself to be an important character, he underestimates Takaba because he's a side character, one of the people Kenjaku has dismissed as boring and uninteresting (before they even had a chance to evolve into something else). Like that's the other thing Kenjaku wants things to evolve but he doesn't... let them. He abandoned Choso and the rest before they even grew up, they were literally fetuses and he threw them away. Kenjaku is the protagonist of reality, and Takaba is a side character, and therefore Takaba couldn't possibly harm him because Kenjaku and his boundless curiosity are the center of the world.

It's not just about subverting the audience's expectations to have the main villain die in such an anti-climactic way before the final act even starts, but it's pointing out how narrow Kenjaku's viewpoints really were all along. He wants everything to be surprised but he never lets anything surprise him, because either he gets bored right away, or he looks down on others before giving them the chance to evolve, or the third thing he just straight up has to control everything. He can't let the culling game evolve naturally he's going to slaughter all the players by hand so he can move onto the next part.

It's the contradiction between a schemer who needs to control everything and everyone to bring about his intended result and everything needs to be a part of his big plans, to someone who wants to be surprised by others and have things go off the rails. You can't have both of these things at once, Kenjaku cannot have things surprise him if he rigs everything to go his way with his overly elaborate schemes and his tight-fisted control of everyone in the story.

Like, in comparison to Kenjaku the joker just blows things up and sprays people with laughing gas. They're both playing the same game but the joker is having fun and Kenjaku isn't.

Kenjaku wants an unexpected future, but he doesn't care about any of the modern sorcerers and has a bias towards the heiean era that he considers the height and wants to reset things to bring back the heian era. He wants to be surprised but won't give up control.

Kenjaku's boast is that unlike Tengen he's spent a thousand years living on the ground instead of lording up on them from above like some deity, but is that true? Has Kenjaku lived? Has he engaged with the world? Formed relationships with people? Or does he just sit in the corner rubbing his hands together menacingly and scheming his schemes.

Takaba unironically gives Kenjaku what he wants, something he's never seen before in a thousand years, and it's from a place Kenjaku never expected. Some random guy, who he dismissed as one of the boring modern sorcerers with no potential like Higuruma.

Takaba not only exists in Kenjaku's blindspot, he almost immediately points out Kenjaku's second hypocrisy. If he's willing to resort to mass murder just to feel entertained, then if he found something else to entertain him there'd be no reason to get violent and scheme his schemes.

In other words Kenjaku hasn't really gone looking for other places to try to find what makes life worth living, or at least enertaining, he hasn't really tried any alternatives to finding joy in life because Jujutsu is all he cares about. Takaba says that if he found something else even more entertaining than the merger there'd be no need to go through with the merger, and he turns out to be right. Kenjaku could have found meaning and entertainment with the world someplace else, he was just too narrow minded and never looked anywhere else.

As I said from the beginning Kenjaku's existential crisis comes from his inability to relate to other people and viewing them all as objects, but in Kenjaku's mind of course he can't relate to others they're too boring, so therefore it's the world's fault, and the fault of others and not himself.

However, right away one of those boring people starts relating to Kenjaku.

I joked about how we know nothing about the Gojo clan but Takaba gets an entire backstory chapter about his failed comedy career, but this chapter is plot important because jokes are the way that Takaba relates to and forms relationships with other people. Takaba makes jokes to relate to others but has a fallout with a comedy partner and has never been able to form a lasting relationship with a comedic partner because comedy doesn't mean the same to them as it does to him - because to Takaba comedy is about forming relationships with people. Which is why he thinks he's failed if he's failed to make everyone in the audience laugh because he wants to make comedy that will make other people relate to him and understand him.

However, he almost gives up on comedy because he's afraid that he might fail on that endeavor. He gives up on striving to make everybody in the audience laugh, because of self-affirmation and a desire to protect himself. He didn't want to fail so he started distancing himself from the audience under the excuse "Well, I can't make everyone laugh so it's okay if not everyone understands me."

Takaba at some point gave up on trying to use comedy as a means of understanding and relating to others, because of his fear of failure and at that point he nearly lost - but he rallies himself by saying that he won't give up on making someone like Kenjaku laugh. If his comedy is about connecting to others, about understanding others and having others understand him then he can't just give up on Kenjaku and say it's Kenjaku's fault that Kenjaku can't relate to his sense of humor. He's got to try even harder to make Kenjaku laugh.

This is also pretty much the opposite of Kenjaku's point of view. For Kenjaku it's everyone else's fault for being so boring that's why he can't relate to them. Wheras, Takaba takes personal responsibility, he wasn't funny enough, he has to try harder, he's the one who's going to make Kenjaku laugh by improving himself. Takaba looks inward, and Kenjaku looks outwards because there's nothing inside Kenjaku.

This is a parallel to this.

The difference however, is that Sukuna did not betray his ideology. Sukuna lives for the kicks that battle provides him and wants to face strong opponents so he can eventually devoured them and be momentarily entertained.

Like Sukuna is not bored the way Kenjaku is. The world is his playground. He may refer to living as just killing time until you die, but he also says that there's an infinite variety of humans to entertain yourself with. The world is Sukuna's toybox and he's satisfied with just that. In fact he doesn't even care about the merger, until his frustration with Yuji makes him think a little deeper about himself.

Kenjaku is not the Sukuna in this scene, he's the Gojo. He believed he was above others, only to be reminded suddenly that he was just the same as everyone else and brought back down to humanity. I mean, they even die off panel the same anticlimactic way. Gojo's infinity meant nothing in the face of one surprise attack a world-cleaving slash Gojo didn't see coming. All of Kenjaku's backup plans meant nothing in the face of Yuta camping and kill-stealing.

Kenjaku didn't lose because Yuta's plan of camping and killstealing was simply too brilliant for him to prepare for however, we're given the exact reason kenjaku lost - because he was having too much fun with Takaba.

Which meant what Takaba said earlier was true, if Kenjaku found something funnier, something other than the merger that could make him laugh there'd be no need to go through with the merger to begin with.

Kenjaku loses because all along he could have related to people, formed meaningful relationships with others, looked for meaning in life outside of Jujutsu but just chose not to. Which is also a parallel to this.

Sukuna says that Kashimo and Gojo both lost because they were greedy. They already received love in a way, they had the love of everyone who regarded them as the strongest, they had people who earnestly wanted to challenge them and respected them - which Sukuna sees as a form of love, and yet they still wanted more.

They were the ones who put themselves up on that pedestal and decided to stand above all of humanity, they don't get to whine about being lonely on top of that.

To add my interpretation to Sukuna's speech, what he's outlining is a general conflict in Jujutsu Kaisen, you can choose to be all ego to put personal development above everything else but it comes at the cost of not being able to form relationships. Maki's as powerful as Toji now, but the sister she always wanted to protect is dead and basically committed suicide. Meanwhile Noritoshi Kamo didn't participate in the final battle, but he reconnected with his mother and half-brother.

There are plenty of characters who die and suffer in jujutsu kaisen because they chose to value other people above themselves, because Jujutsu Kaisen rewards selfishness and punishes selflessness / having an underdeveloped sense of self.

I'll pick Mechamaru as my biggest example, he lived to protect Miwa, and not only does he die an unsatisfying death, he also breaks her heart.

However, at least Mechamaru experienced love. His desire to protect Miwa is granted, because Miwa is also out of the final conflict. Mechamaru is one of the most miserable characters in the manga, and yet he experienced love in his life for someone else that made his brief life meaningful. The characters who choose love, and other people over strength tend to get stepped on, but they at least had that love in their life to begin with.

It's a having your cake and eating it too situation. Kashimo chose strength over love, and he got to be so strong he was unbeatable and lived to old age, but not only is he unfulfilled but he whines about being unable to relate to the people around him - you're the one who chose to step on everyone like bugs.

Characters in Jujutsu Kaisen don't just experience death when they try to be selfless however, like yeah there's a disproportionate amont of selfless minor characters who die, but like Yuji is the most selfless character in the manga and he's continually punished for it and yet he's the one referred to as a person with an unbreakable will.

Rather instead of Jujutsu Kiasen preferring the selfish side on the scale of selfishness / selflessness, the kind of messy, deaths that get handed out to people like Mechamaru happen when you betray the ideals you were living for. Whether they were selfish or selfless.

It goes back to Toji's internal monologue. You lose when you lose sight of yourself - like there's some deaths that don't fit the mould but for the most part, Gojo, Kashimo, Toji's and then Kenjaku's deaths all follow this pattern. By coincidence they also all take place offscreen for the most part (I suppose we see Yuta cut off Kenjaku's head but it's quick and unsatisfying compared to all the rest).

Kenjaku died because he betrayed what he was living for and he temporarily lost sight of himself. As I said Kenjaku's airtight principles were that everyone was boring and people weren't worth relating too so the only way to find enertainment in life is to cause chaos - but he found himself relating to some nobody he wrote off as a minor character Takaba and having fun with him. Which meant the belief he was false, he could have tried relating to other people all along he just didn't.

He warped his sense of self to reaffirm his identity. Takaba almost did that too, he tried to blame other people for not finding him funny to protect himself, but he moved past that and redoubled his efforts to make Kenjaku laugh.

There's also the added layer of irony that Kenjaku's sudden death brings about, the person who spent a thousand years trying to make the merger happen doesn't get to see it.

However, here's my assertion on why Kenjaku's death before the merger always had to happen.

Because, even if Kenjaku had seen the merger he still would have been bored.

Literally everything about Kenjaku's character and previous actions shows that even if he made his big scheme come true, he would have gone "meh" and moved onto the next scheme because that's how he always reacts.

He got bored of the death painting siblings, he presumably got bored of Yuji, he got bored of all the ancient sorcerers and new sorcerers he made for the culling game, he worked with the disaster curses and got bored of them and dismissed them as inferior primitive curses, he goes out of the way to engineer these chaotic situations and then never feels any satisfaction from them so why would the Merger be any different?

Not only did Kenjaku die before he saw the merger, he was basically doomed to never see the merger, because it would not have fixed whatever is wrong inside of him.

Because it's not the world that's boring, it's Kenjaku himself.

He gets a brief glimpse of what he could have done in life, that he could have tried to forge connections with the people around him and related to them on a personal level - and then he dies the way he lived, in a kind of boring and unsatisfying way.

It's the narrative punishing him in a way, the same way it punished Gojo, and Kashimo, by not letting him see the big explosion after he went to all the trouble rigging the bombs. It's punishing him for the same reason too - by deviating from his true self and showing what he thought were his reasons were shallow all along. Gojo could have always related to people he just chose to stand on his pedestal alone, and Kenjaku could have always found the world to be more enertaining he was the one dismissing other people as boring without giving them a chance to grow.

Takaba confronted his beliefs and then stayed true to his ideology of making everyone, 100% of the people in the crowd laugh. Kenjaku didn't confront his beliefs, he strayed from them because he didn't have the strength of character to evaluate himself the way Takaba did.

Hence, he's finished off by one of those boring people who used their power in a way he never expected. The main villain is defeated by the comic relief character and it's hilarious.

#jjk meta #kenjaku #fumihiko takaba #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen theory #jujutsu kaisen analysis #jjk spoiler #jujutsu kaisne spoiler #big spoiler actually

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

hcs for all the castlevania boys (trevor, issac, hector, alucard, dracula, godbrand, the judge, varney, ratko & st. germain- i think that's all of them lol) caring for s/o reader on their period. can be modern times or past times whichever u prefer. 💖

A/N: I wish more people would be less disgusted and more understanding when it comes to menstruation. There are still so many myths circulating about it, I’m shocked sometimes. One time a guy on Twitter said he thought women got periods because they evolved to eat meat. And I was like…. Excuse you?? Lol. Anyway, on to the HCs!

Sorry, some are short. I wanted to do longer to make it fair but there were like TEN characters mentioned and my max is supposed to be SIX so some are taking a far back seat. 

TW: Blood, Period Mention (still w/ GN Reader)

Castlevania Boys Helping S/O GN!Reader with Their Period: 🩸

Trevor: 

Is surprisingly resourceful, given the man was a wandering drunk when you first met him.

Not so much in a kind about-it way, he’s very sarcastic and so over the whole thing right after it starts.

But he did have a large family once so he remembers what his sisters and mother went through.

Will cut off strips of his cape for you to use, but expects you to take care of any sort of ‘mess’, he’s pre-occupied cleaning whatever latest monster’s guts off himself anyway

Buys a whiskey but lets YOU drink most of it to help with the cramps (and for him this is the ultimate sign he loves you lol).

Alucard: 

Is unexpectedly awkward for someone whose mother was a doctor.

He’s very knowledgeable but unsure of how to broach the subject, sort of giving you instructions on what to do (as if you made it to the age you did without knowing??).  

And of course, the castle has everything you could need, and if it doesn’t, he won’t hesitate to travel to get it for you. Although he does insist you stay in while he retrieves it.

If you’ve been together for a while, offers to help clean you up in equal parts removed curiosity and bewitched hunger (although he’s comparatively embarrassed about that later part).

Hector: 

Not phased at all. The man’s used to sticking his hands into corpses, why would menstrual blood be an issue?

Isn’t super knowledgeable about it, he’s been alone focusing solely on his needs for so many years, and this was never one of them. But he does try and learn now that he has you.

He sends his most trustworthy night creatures and reanimated pets to go hunting for the herbs and wild medicines you use. On the other hand, Hector orders the more domesticated pets to stay and cuddle/play with you. 

On the days you’re curled up in a ball in bed, he offers to read some of the books he’s been writing as he knows you find his voice very soothing. 

Isaac: 

Fascinated by human psychology and biology from an earlier age, so he’s moderately educated on the subject. 

Blood does not scare him, but he does understand the societal stigma around sharing such a natural cycle with him.

Like Hector, he sends out his night creatures to fetch you whatever you need. 

Ensure you drink enough tea and water to stay hydrated. Also asks that you eat plenty of red meat to help replace some of the iron you’ve lost.

Is one of the few men that requests you stay as active as you can, limiting rather than stopping your regular activities. Movement and keeping your mind occupied should make the days pass much faster, as Issac is a firm believer that self-discipline is one of the most powerful tools of all. 

Godbrand: 

Not grossed out, but ends up grossing YOU out with his enthusiasm about the whole thing

Will of course offer to go down there himself and ‘take care of matters like a man’ - his words, not yours. 

What? For Godbrand, being with a living, breathing, and most importantly, bleeding human are the perks of your relationship. It’s like having a partner and a constant food source all in one!

Will absolutely curse out if not straight-up attack any other vampire who dares to bitch about your mood swings or irritable behavior. And then once you’re out of earshot, he will proceed to bitch about said mood swings and irritable behavior. What? At least he’s gentlemanly enough not to do it to your face.  

Dracula: 

The most caring and respectful king fr

He is super understanding and educated on the subject. In fairness, he’s probably curated half of the books on menstruation within his vast libraries. 

Has the necessary products on hand- strips of cloth, herbs for cramping and pain, teas, and a medieval-era heating pad of his own invention. 

Like Godbrand, offers to pleasure you down there to help relieve some cramps with the help of an orgasm, although he’s much more romantic and poetic when he suggests such a thing to you. And unlike Godbrand, he’s in it solely for your benefit. The idea that he’d get to feed as well is the farthest thing on his mind. 

Literally the most perfect and doting husband to ever walk the face of this earth oh my god.

The Judge: 

Expects you to handle it yourself lol. 

Don’t ask him for advice or aid. If you must seek out assistance, he directs you to another woman or midwife within the town.

Considers it highly inappropriate to discuss such matters, even if you’re together. 

0/10, not very helpful, would not recommend. 

Saint Germain

Knows a decent amount of what to expect and how to aid you should you request it. 

He’s well-educated and very well-traveled, so he’s encountered quite a few different cultural views of menstruation. 

Does, however, expect you to take care of the more messy parts of it.

He will offer you back rubs or make tea, but aside from him being aware of your current condition, he doesn’t change the way he treats you much at all. 

Sala:

Gets high key disgusting with it

Asks if you can gather all your bloody rags in a big bowl so he can perform some satanic ritual with it. (You’re like… Um, no??? Unless you’re cray-cray too, which, if you’re with him, has a fair chance of ringing true.) 

Will tell everyone else in the monastery about it cuz he’s a freak like that.

Keeps reminding you how in your current state, you would be a perfect sacrifice for the Great Lord Dracula… Ya know, because of the blood thing?

Subtly is NOT his strong suit

Varney: 

The entity also known as Death knows your cycle better than you do lol.

Keeps a mental calendar in his head, and starts peppering you with more kisses than usual a few days before your bleeding starts. 

Just really wants to get on your good side. And wants you to recall in the coming days, how sweet he was to you, so you know, you don’t take all your anger and frustration out on him. 

Very little scares him, he is Death after all. But aside from people not dying and Belmont giving him another go, your mood swings on your period scare the hell out of him. 

He’s not a patient man, and by day seven, Varney feels rather demoralized after being encumbered by his partner’s common human condition. 

Begs Ratko for help. Is promptly told to piss off. 

Ratko: 

Doesn’t react, except to tell you that you smell so much better this way. 

He delivers that line in such a deadpan too, you almost misunderstand what he’s talking about.

Admits that he’d be willing to ‘clean you up’, should you find that arousing.

Regards you the same, but does find himself staying closer to you than normal, for fear the other vampires and night creatures around you will find your scent so enticing and try to take what’s his.

Challenges anyone who looks your way longer than five seconds. Partly as a means to protect his claim over you, but mainly because he rather enjoys the combat practice.

#castlevania imagine #castlevania x reader #castlevania imagines #alucard x reader #trevor belmont x reader #hector x reader #dracula x reader #vlad dracula tepes imagine #hector imagine #trevor belmont imagine #alucard imagine #saint germain x reader #saint germain imagine #sala x reader #sala imagine #the judge x reader #the judge imagine #varney x reader #varney imagine #ratko x reader #ratko imagine #alucard castlevania #trevor belmont #hector castlevania #isaac laforeze #isaac castlevania #dracula castlevania #saint germain #varney the vampire #ratko castlevania

[cyberghouleo]

“You know that I'll be your Paparazzi”

Brian Thomas x Bimbo! Reader

Brian comes home to his girlfriend sleeping in only his shirt and panties. He lets her know he's back from a mission in the nontraditional way.

cw : bimbo! fem reader, somo, fingering, recording, mask kink, brief cunnilingus, soft dom, finger sucking,

wc : 2.8k

ao3 link:

a / n : I'm back!! Also a day late but happy hornetversary!

This hadn't gone the way he expected.

Brian had accidentally turned from a stalker who would watch you from afar and through your window as you changed, to now being your boyfriend who started living with you. He had never planned on actually dating you, instead just watching you from afar and sometimes stealing your panties to jerk off with. He had become infatuated in a whole new way when he saw you walk around in mostly all pink and short skirts. There weren’t many women with your style back in Alabama, so he was blown away when he saw you. But one night he got pretty damaged from a mission and needed somewhere close to patch himself up and stop the bleeding, and your house was the closest option. Breaking in wasn’t a challenge since he knew the place like the back of his hand already and you always seemed to forget to lock your doors at night. The only surprise was when you walked out of your room in only a sleep shirt and pink panties in the middle of the night to see him going through your first aid kit. The both of you stood there frozen as he dreaded he was now going to have to kill you before you started screaming and alerting the neighbors. Instead, you only asked if he wanted any food and needed help with his bleeding. He was reluctant at first, thinking it was a trap but eventually gave in when he realized you were just that naive to a random man breaking into your house bleeding everywhere.

After that, he became a nightly visitor as you welcomed him in. It started off as only coming over to clean up after missions since you had expensive and better smelling shampoo than he was used to. Then it turned into you inviting him over so you would feel safe in the house whenever the storms were bad. And ended up being you two dating after a few weeks of getting to know each other and flirting. Brian felt as if he was dreaming, not only did he get to date someone he saw as his dream girl, but he also got to live together with you in a real home, something he hadn’t been able to experience for a while. Whenever you asked about the blood on his clothes or what his job was, he lied about being a hunter and you believed it. He was almost shocked at how naive you were to believe his lies, but it made your relationship easier. You didn’t question him or ask him much about his job, so he felt as if he could be honest with you and you would never suspect him of doing anything bad to you. Dating as a known killer was hard, and you made it ten times easier.

This was the first chance in almost 2 weeks that Brian would be able to visit you, his most recent mission was a bitch and drawn out for no reason. Twisting open the unlocked door, Brian saw that all the lights were off, which was odd since you normally tried staying up for him whenever he was returning. The stove read that it was almost 3 am, so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were already asleep. He locked the door behind himself before going towards your bedroom to find out if you were awake or not.

Your bedroom door was half cracked, open enough for him to confirm you were sleeping and sprawled out on the bed. You were wearing one of his oversized shirts that was bunched up to show your stomach but low enough that it covered your tits. Your ass wasn’t covered by the sheets, showing off the pink bedazzled thong he bought as a gift after a week long mission. You had mentioned you thought it was cute randomly and he loved spoiling you, remembering what gifts you had wanted and buying them for you later. He slipped past the door quietly, standing on the side of your bed watching as your chest rhythmically rose and fell with each breath. The side of your face was pressed into the pillow, your facial expression soft as you slept. Brian smiled softly, his gloved hand moving a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. You didn’t stir under his touch, you must have been in a deep sleep. He slid his mask up past his nose, pressing a quick kiss on your head before climbing in bed behind you.

His arm wrapped around your waist and your body instantly formed around his, the curve of your ass pressing up against his dick. It had been 2 weeks since he had last been able to fuck you, and he was really sexually frustrated from having to wait so long to see you again. His hand slowly traveled down from your waist to your hips, rubbing small circles into your hip bone. Once he noticed you had no reaction to this, his hand started to dip underneath your legs, pushing your thong to the side slowly to not wake you.

His middle finger traced up and down your slit as you pushed yourself further into him, your breathing starting to quicken. He didn’t even have to start fingering you for you to already get turned on unconsciously. Before he went any further, he reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone. He only kept a phone on him just to text you, finding it cute how often you would send him updates on your days when he wasn’t home. He doesn’t know how long his next mission will be, so he needed to film you getting fucked to help him out for the next time he would go weeks without you. He quickly hit record, the flash illuminating the room and your wet pussy. After he started tracing up and down again a few times, he slowly started to plunge a finger into you, stopping every few seconds to see if you had woken up yet. He was able to get his full middle finger in without you waking up as he felt your slick walls start to pulse against his finger. He pumped in and out slowly, watching as your brows furrowed and small moans started to escape your lips. He stopped for a second to start slipping his second finger in, when your body started trying to buck against his fingers. You were asleep and still such a slut to get fingerfucked by him, something that made his already hard dick painfully strain against his pants. His second finger slipped in easily as your pussy was already starting to leak your juices.

Your pussy made gushing noises as he started to quicken up his pace and pulled your shirt up, your tits exposed as the cold air caused your nipples to harden. You looked so fucking hot this way, and it only made Brian hornier to know that you were all his. He angled the camera towards your tits as he dipped his head in between your thighs. He flattened out his tongue before licking from his fingers that were still fingerfucking you up to your clit. Your body reacted by arching your back, your hips trying to get closer to his mouth as you whined out. He repeated this another time, watching your reactions from under his mask. A wide grin spread across his face as he watched how helpless and desperate you were, horny enough to have your body react to his fingers and tongue without even being awake. He started sucking on your clit, watching as your fingers started to grip the bed sheets and your thighs started to tighten around his head.

He felt your walls start to tighten against his fingers, encouraging him to move his tongue faster and in small circles. You were moaning so pathetically, mewling out as you stayed asleep. Your hips stuttered for a few seconds before your hole nearly swallowed his fingers, your pussy clenching and unclenching around him. He continued pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm, making sure you were still in frame for the camera.

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispered to no one as your body was coming down for the high, kissing the inside of your thigh as he waited and watched your face react.

Your orgasm must have woken you up as you started to stir in the bed more. “Brian…” You groaned out as your hand covered your eyes to block out the bright light from his camera. “You’re home…”

“Mhmmm,” He responded, spreading out your pussy with two fingers to show to the camera. Your cum leaked out and covered his fingers, making a stringy mess on his glove when he pulled his fingers away.

“I missed you.” You stated as he groped one of your tits, spreading your cum on you as he rolled your nipple in between his fingertips. Sleep was still laced in your voice as he thought it was adorable how tired you were, and he hadn’t even started fucking you yet.

“I missed you too baby.” He leaned down to press a kiss on your lips. You sighed into the kiss and your hands reached out to grip onto his hair, but only found the cloth of his mask. He pulled back before you could take the mask off, you wanted to see his full face so badly right now but your view was restricted to only seeing his smile.

“Turn the light off,” You slurred out, your hands going back over to cover your eyes. “It’s too bright.”

“It won’t be much longer, okay?” He reassured while tugging down his pants far enough to get his dick out, making sure your naked body stayed within the camera frame.

You only mumbled out a sleepy ‘m’kay’ while he pulled your panties off fully. He made sure to get one last full shot of your pussy on his camera before he started to push his dick inside you. You gasped at the sensation, something that made his cock twitch in response. You were so wet and ready for him, he had to resist every urge to quickly shove his dick in fully. No matter how sexually frustrated he was, you were too tired and he didn’t want to hurt you. He had all week to fuck you hard and leave you sobbing, tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

Once he bottomed out inside you, he made sure to capture him thrusting in and out of you, watching as your pussy tightened around him as he pulled out before slamming back in. You were still dazed from waking up so horny that you weren’t exactly sure what was happening right now. You moaned out loudly, your hand reached out to grip anything as your body started to warm up and your mind started to go fuzzy. His hand found yours, holding your hand as he pressed you further into the mattress, letting out deep groans as he kept up his pace. He leaned down, taking your nipple into his mouth while maintaining eye contact.

You didn’t expect to see him tonight so all the emotions of finally seeing him again and being woken up by cumming around his fingers were too much for you. The flash from the camera didn’t help either, making you feel like such a whore for putting on a show and being spread out on video only for his eyes later. It didn’t take long for you to cum again, digging your nails into his hand and arching your back off the bed as you moaned out. He didn’t slow down or remove his mouth as you clenched down tightly around him, forcing a guttural moan from deep within his throat. As your body was calming down and your pussy started twitching against his dick, he removed his mouth from your tit with a sloppy pop sound. His free hand removed itself from your hand, instead resting on your hip as he stared down at you. You gave a weak smile as your mind was still staticky from cumming twice in a row, and he returned a toothy smile back to you. You were so happy to finally see him again after going so long without him, that you didn’t notice he hadn’t cum yet. You were about to ask him a question when he pulled back and slammed into you. Your breath was cut off as you moaned out, it felt as if your nerves were on fire. You were too sensitive to go again.

“Ah-hh it’s too much Brian,” You pleaded as you tried to push his chest away but were too weak to make any real progress. “Too…much.” Your sentences were starting to get choppy as you were getting overstimulated.

He spoke through gritted teeth as he tried to prolong cumming as much as he could, “You can take it though, can’t you baby? You want to make me happy, right?” You only moaned out in response, tears filling your eyes and spilling out down your face.

He made sure to film your face and tits in one shot, watching as you tried your best to keep up with the stimulation and how cute you looked crying because of his cock. Your moans were now quick and short as his free hand found its way up to your throat. He didn’t squeeze down, just resting his hand there to keep you in place as his thrusts started to become sloppy and he felt himself start to tighten up. Your mouth was wide open and your spit was starting to drool out, the perfect opportunity for him to stick his fingers inside. He slipped his pointer and middle finger inside your mouth, making you taste the leftover cum that lingered on his gloves. You moaned and gagged around his fingers, struggling to keep up as he started to pump them in and out slowly. He loved watching the spit string from your lips to his fingers as he pulled out before shoving them back in, feeling your mouth constrict as you gagged around him.

“I missed fucking this pussy fo-” He stopped mid-sentence as he tried to control his breathing, he wanted to drag this out for as long as he could. “For so long.” You only moaned around his fingers, clearly exhausted as your eyes struggled to stay open again. You could hardly stay awake again, but you were trying so hard. Trying so hard to be a good slut for him.

You knew he was starting to get close once his thrusts went from hard and deep to quick and short, feeling him use your body as his own sex toy. He had one last deep thrust before his hot cum shot inside you, painting your walls as he let out a slutty moan. The combination of his last thrust and the feeling of his cum spilling out of you caused you to reach your third orgasm for the night. Your moans were muted as he kept his fingers in your mouth, your mind was completely mush at this point from all the cumming. He hovered over your body for a minute, catching his breath as his chest rose up and down quickly and his heart felt as if it was going to beat out of his chest. After not seeing you for so long, he was winded more than he was used to. Normally he could control his stamina and you were the one who struggled to keep up.

Once he had caught his breath, he removed his fingers from your mouth and took off his mask. This had been the first time you fully saw his face all night, and he swore he saw your eyes light up once you made eye contact with him. It was so cute to see how eager you were to see him, even after coming back from murdering and doing horrendous things to others. You didn’t care or know any better, you just wanted to see him. He ended the recording, slipping the phone on his side of the bed as he began to strip down to get ready to sleep for the night.

After stripping down to only his boxers, he slid in bed next to you. You instantly clung to his side, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed small circles into your head.

You let out a whine of content before speaking. “Im… so happy, y-you’re home.” You mumbled the last part, face pressed up against his chest as your body started to give into the exhaustion.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I am too, baby.” He said as he grabbed his phone to start rewatching the video.

#marble hornets #brian thomas x reader #brian thomas #hoody marble hornets #hoodie x reader #hoodie marble hornets #bimbo reader #x reader #mh hoody #creepypasta x reader #had to write for a bimbo bc im a bimbo lmfao #who takes a 3 year break to randomly post?? def not me!! #smut #also ik he aint a creeppasta its just for tag reasons lol

[unhonestlymirror]

I am horrified by how often I see people writing, "Well, we shouldn't take Holocaust into account when talking about Israel-Palestine war." Of course we SHOULD, and that's why:

"October 7 is getting rewritten and certain social media users are an active of the campaign to erase the atrocities.

I was barely awake on October 7th when news of the atrocities that were committed by Hamas began to trinkle in, horror by horror. With sleep still in my eyes, I had hoped it was a nightmare I could erase by burying my face in pillows and returning to slumber, but alas, reality was insistent. Hamas had butchered over 1,200 people, amongst them infants, pregnant women, the handicapped, and the elderly. Even dogs were not spared.

But Hamas didn’t just murder them in cold blood, they had tortured, raped, desecrated their bodies, and took hostages. Their depravity was limitless. And they were so proud of their crimes that they used GoPro cameras to record them, later releasing the sickening spectacles to the public as a form of psychological terror. Add to that the live streams, cell phone recordings, and CCTV camera footage, and you’ll probably have the most documented massacre in history—with a reported 60,000 video clips collected.

I’ve seen some of these videos, including those not circulating quite so widely in public. They will haunt me for the rest of my life—and that falls far short than the 47 minute “film” shown to select journalists and diplomats worldwide, a number of whom broke down and/or fell ill during the screening.

But as shocking as all of this deranged butchery was — which was entirely the intention — what stunned me in the aftermath is the world’s reaction.

Putting aside disputes of land and politics, it was jarring to hear such a blatant reframing of narrative. It started with calling Hamas the “resistance” and justifying the unjustifiable. A number of BLM chapters had put out “heroic” images of Hamas terrorists descending on parachutes. I half-expected them to release action figures of Hamas fighters too. Maybe they did?

And then came the "BUTs." Sure, some folks condemned Hamas, but it was always followed by a "BUT," justifying the unjustifiable. I've been asked, ad nauseam, "What would you do in their situation?" Well, my response remains steadfast: not commit random acts of murder, torture, and kidnapping. Call me old-fashioned. (For the record I’ve called many colorful words for my stance, but oddly that was never one of them).

It was a wake-up call for many, especially those of us in the global Jewish community. Overnight, the illusion of safety shattered, much like the dreams of anyone who's binge-watched a horror series alone at night. But now we were all collectively trapped in that nightmare, and couldn’t wake up no matter how hard with pitched.

The history of the Holocaust is taught in many schools around the world. “Never forget” and “never again” are sentiments that are echoed within that curriculum. Yet, while some might scoff at the persistent advocacy for Holocaust education, insisting that it’s hitting them over the head, a nationwide survey in 2020 reveals that the under-40 crowd seems to have missed the memo. Shockingly, one in ten respondents haven’t even heard of the word “Holocaust,” let alone being aware that as many as 6 million Jews perished in it.

Further, nearly a quarter of those questioned said they believed the Holocaust was a myth, had been exaggerated or that they weren’t sure. Meanwhile in Canada, one in five young people (under 34) either hasn't heard of the Holocaust or isn't sure what it is. And in Britain, one in twenty adults flat-out deny that it ever took place. Ah, the privilege of blissful ignorance.

Most who underestimate the number of Jews killed in Holocaust have neutral or warm feelings toward Jews.

But it's not just ignorance; there's an entire industry that has been propped up and dedicated to Holocaust denial, complete with books, “movies,” and groups. To make matters worse, alarmingly, fewer Holocaust survivors are around to share their firsthand accounts and counteract the flames of denialism.

Nearly half of the 1000 people surveyed had stated that they’ve seen Holocaust denial or distortion posts on social media or elsewhere online.

I’ve always thought that denials of genocide—such as the Holocaust —were something that happened over time, with history slipping away and being re-written.

However, I never expected to be observing this in real time.

While initially the so-called “resistance” was celebrated by a subset of society, this soon turned into full-fledged denials of Hamas’ actions on Oct 7. Despite overwhelming evidence in the form of videos captured and shared by Hamas themselves and shared on Telegram channels and elsewhere, I would read and hear people claiming that they had only targeted Israeli military. Absurd claims emerged using supposedly ‘leaked’ footage where an Israeli helicopter shoots at Nova music festival goers. That video was viewed over 30 million times on X alone. The video, which was actually originally shared by the IDF on Oct 9, was showing their attacks on specific Gazan targets—certainly NOT indiscriminate bombings of music festival attendees in Israel. (Here’s a great thread that details how this piece of disinformation spread and geolocation information that further confirms that the claim is fake).

I’ve heard countless denials of the rapes of women (and men), despite overwhelming evidence in the form of physical evidence, forensics, and a number of witness testimonies. Women’s rights groups, meanwhile, remained silent—thus offering a vacuum for denialists to fill. Proponents of “me too” also stayed silent. Worse, the University of Alberta Sexual Assault Centre’s director signed an open letter calling Hamas perpetrating “sexual violence” an “unverified accusation.” It took UN Women nearly two months to issue a lukewarm condemnation of the brutal attacks. “We are alarmed by the numerous accounts of gender-based atrocities and sexual violence during those attacks,” they wrote, following a letter writing campaign urging them to speak up. Better late than never though, right?

The roughly 40 dead babies claim was debunked as a lie. At least that’s what people on social media now declare as fact, citing a Haaretz investigation.

“Haaretz investigation EXPOSES all the ISRAELI LIES from October 7th just like I predicated (sic),” reads the post of one particularly large disinformation account.

These claims persisted despite Haaretz directly addressing that post and calling it “blatant lies” and insisting that it “absolutely no basis in Haaretz’s reporting.”

The denials continued regardless of the fact that a group of 200 forensic pathologists from all over the world had confirmed that babies were indeed murdered and that some babies were found decapitated, though it was unclear whether this was done before or after death. First responders also corroborated that they witnessed beheaded infants. Regardless of decapitation, these were babies, murdered.

The forensic pathologists also confirmed that humans were executed, bound and burned alive. Israeli police have over 1,000 statements related to the attack.

When some of the hostages were released, Hamas supporters claimed that the hostages enjoyed being held by them, that they hardly wanted to leave. That this was like a pleasant vacation for them, that’s all. Like sipping piña coladas by the beach. In fact, they would state that they were more concerned about their safety in Israeli hands. They even concocted stories of love affairs between a hostage who was shot in the leg and a Hamas captor. A sick and twisted take on reality where up is down, cats are dogs, and denial is truth. They dismissed the reality that many of these hostages watched their loved ones get murdered in front of them, and still had relatives being held in captivity. The hostages were also administered Clonazepam by Hamas, a mood-enhancing tranquilizing drug, before handing them over to the Red Cross, so that they would appear “happy.”

Meanwhile, the Yale Daily News published a correction of an opinion column stating that the “allegations had not been substantiated.”

The denials go on and on, and I can’t help but feel like I’m watching a version of Holocaust denial, except this time it’s happening in real time—not years after the fact. And this time, it has a Wi-Fi connection and a social media account.

The conditions for this were ripe. Moral relativism is why just several weeks ago, Gen Z embraced Bin Laden's 'Letter to America.' It has been building up for years across college campuses, a breeding ground for ideologies that support violent means to achieve political gains.

The perceived power dynamics play a role here too. In the eyes of many, the Israelis are seen as a superpower whereas the Palestinians, and by extension Hamas, are seen as underdogs. In their view, the underdog is always right because it is the victim, and the “power” is the oppressor. So how can the oppressor be a victim?

Israelis, despite the majority of the population being Mizrahi Jews, as well as 20% Arabs (who were also victims on Oct 7), have been framed as “white colonizers,” vs the Palestinians who are seen as “POC” in the context of this conflict. Never mind that Jews, including Ashkenazi Jews, can be traced back to the land through DNA, archaeological evidence, and historical documents.

An overall distrust for media is another factor, which has resulted in individuals taking the word of random influencer accounts as gospel over traditional media outlets. According to Gallup polls, Americans’ trust in media is near a record low. Only 34% of US adults have a “great deal” or “fair amount” of confidence as of 2022. This is a major hindrance to our sensemaking abilities.

And then, of course, there’s cognitive dissonance. When a group identifies so closely with the perpetrator and they commit heinous acts, confronting that fact happens to be uncomfortable. So, in an attempt to reduce that discomfort, they rationalize or deny the evidence. This means that they accept only evidence that supports their existing beliefs, while placing unreasonable demands on the other side.

But none of these factors would have gained as much traction if it weren’t for something that didn’t exist during the Holocaust: social media. This is the engine that helps drives this real-time historical revisionism and denialism. According to 2021 data from Pew Research, over 70% of Americans get their news via social platforms. A Reuters Institute report from 2023 found that 30% of respondents use social media as the main way to get their news.

We have a society that consumes sound-bites of information, both truth and lies (as well as lies based on grains of truth).

Social media algorithms—combined with human nature—tend to amplify outrageous untruths, which spread widely. Corrections, never make it as far as the original lie. They are just a faint hum.

Throughout the Israeli-Gaza war, we’ve seen AI generated images and bots used to paint a specific narrative—for evocative, emotional effect. But technologically sophisticatication isn’t a prerequisite for painting false narratives. Many “influencers” have taken to using existing images or videos and attaching misleading headlines to them—including sharing content that captures events in Syria while presenting it as taking place in Gaza. These networks of influencers have large reach, and can turn even the most blatant lie into a revisionist truth.

Researchers for Freedom House, a non-profit human right advocacy group, found that generally at least 47 governments have used commentators to manipulate online discussions in their favor, either via humans or bots. They’ve also recruited influencers to help spread false and misleading content, and have created fake websites that mimic actual media publications. Then there’s always Russia’s propaganda arm RT, and various other publications like Al Jazeera and Quds who have direct ties to Hamas and/or other Islamic regimes.

All of this has contributed to narrative confusion, and the erasure of unspeakable acts of brutality, and the denial of the facts of October 7, right before our very eyes.

If we cannot even share a common reality, how can have any hope of resolving anything?

“Never again” is happening now."

#jews #israel palestine war #hamas attack #russia finances hamas

[seoafin]

I need your thots on house husband geto,,how he cooks and cleans and all he asks from you is a kiss every now and then [ever since i read nitc all i've been thinking about is how he asks rip!mc for a kiss in exchange for anything]

ohhhhhhhhhhhh

-

"You don't cook at home?"

When Shoko had dragged you out to a girl's night with some of her old friends from medical school, citing that Satoru and Suguru had kept you cooped up in the apartment for themselves for too long, this was not a question you anticipated to be answering. At first you were overwhelmed. It was a large gathering. Ten became eight, and eight had dwindled to six and then four. Right on the verge of retiring for the night, conversation had shifted to the topic of boyfriends and relationship woes.

And now three pairs of eyes look to you. An amused chuckle escapes Shoko's lips, a lit cigarette neatly slotted between her lips.

You blink, embarrassment washing over you. "I—well." You stare down at your lap. "I'm not really that good at cooking...so my boyfriend...does all the cooking."

Suguru does the cooking. And the laundry. When Suguru's away, Satoru takes care of it. Satoru washes the dishes. Cleans. He sweeps and vacuums and tidies after the kids. You had tried to help, once, but Suguru had directed you away, and now the realization is quickly dawning on you that it may have been because you are simply incompetent at housework.

You may not be able to cook, but nobody is incompetent at cleaning!

Except…maybe you. You don’t know. You’ve never needed to clean. Nothing more than a perfunctory clean every once in a while when you lived alone. You weren’t a messy person. Shoko remarked often that your first apartment was cleaner than it had been when you had originally moved in.

"How sweet," Kuriyama sighs out. "My boyfriend can't even cut a vegetable! He cooks for you? Everyday?"

"U-usually," is your response while your mind races, trying to think back to the last time you had helped with anything around the house. Anything.

"The only thing my boyfriend can make is ramen. Not to mention he's super picky about his food!" Mori shakes her head. "He's so difficult! Honestly I think of dumping him everyday for being so incompetent!"

You stare at her.

Shoko clears her throat. "I'm sure it’s not only that—”

“I agree,” Kuriyama says, nodding, face fiercely determined. “It gets so tiring sometimes taking care of everything. Maybe it’s time to move on!” She leans in. “Your boyfriend wouldn’t happen to have any good looking friends?”

Out of all the reasons that constantly filled your head with why Satoru and Suguru would break up with you, you hadn’t expected your inability to do household chores to be one of them.

Incompetent.

Well, it would certainly be understandable. If anything, you think you would prefer them breaking up with you over something as mundane as not being able to do housework, instead of the many flaws to your character. It would settle easier. It would hurt less. Now you just had to prepare yours—

“Let’s call it a night!” Shoko interrupts, cigarette disposed, taking you to stand up by the arm. “I have to get her back before people start calling,” she says, interlacing your fingers.

Kuriyama sighs. “Just when we were getting to the best part, Shoko!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mori grins. “You should come to our next night out. You can invite your boyfriend too! We’ll make an exception!”

Shoko waves them off, pulling you outside the izakaya. 

“I can’t cook either,” she says as the two of you wait for a taxi. You know that. But Shoko bakes. Cookies and cakes and occasionally other baked goods. You spent nights over at her apartment eating cupcakes until late in the morning, watching American dramas and horror movies. Delicious, mouth watering desserts.

“Who expects women to cook nowadays anyway?”

—

When the elevator parts to your apartment, you immediately go to Mimiko and Nanako’s room and check their pink laundry hamper. Empty. Then to Tsumiki’s room. Empty. Megumi’s room. Empty.

You’re seated on the floor of Megumi’s room when the door opens again.

“How was the—”

You push past Satoru to go into your shared room at the end of the hall to check your laundry hamper. Suguru is reading on the bed when you open the closet. Empty. You sit down, knees flush to your chest, dejected.

You don’t need to look behind you to know Satoru and Suguru are exchanging glances.

From your knees, you mumble. “Did you do the laundry?”

It’s Suguru that answers you. “We just finished a load.”

“Oh.”

You sit in silence.

At least, until Satoru gently yanks you up into his arms, and carries you to the bed. You immediately turn face down on your comforter, covering your face. 

You think they must be having another one of their silent conversations. You squeeze your eyes shut. Tomorrow, you resolve, you’d wash the dishes after dinner.

You hear the door open yet again with Satoru’s departure, and Suguru softly says your name. You sigh, picking yourself up. You really can’t refuse Suguru when he says your name like that.

“Where are the kids?” You ask, even though you already know where they are. They’d be back early tomorrow morning, before school.

“Educational overnight field trip with Yaga,” Suguru replies, amused as your attempt to delay the inevitable. He plays along, lightly teasing. “It’s not like you to forget these things.”

You don’t meet his eyes. Suguru calmly waits you out until you lamely say: “I don’t help around the house.”

You can tell he’s taken aback. “Is that why you were looking for…dirty clothes?”

You’re embarrassed just thinking about it. “...”

“I like cooking,” he says. “I like cooking and watching you, Satoru, Megumi, and the girls enjoy what I make. And I definitely, don’t think it’s a burden. We order out a lot too, don’t we?” He continues. “As for the laundry, I grew up doing it with my mother. It reminds me of home.”

You reluctantly look up. There’s a soft smile on his lips. “I can wash the dishes.”

He chuckles, hand caressing your face. You nearly close your eyes and lean into it. “You don’t need to. You don’t need to do anything.”

You still want to. Try. It makes you feel better. Slightly. The knots in the pit of your stomach loosen. “Can I help you with lunch for the kids tomorrow…?”

He pretends to think about it. The fondness in his barely suppressed expression gives him away. "Maybe if you give me a kiss first."

"Suguru," you grumble.

He only replies with your name, face erupting into a full blown grin.

Your face warms as you lean close and cup his face with your hands, bringing your lips to his. He pulls you on to straddle his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist and breathes you in. His lips briefly part, and you feel his tongue run over your bottom lip.

You pull away, about to rest your face onto his shoulder, into his neck. His dark purple gaze draws you in. “We can take care of you,” he says, softly. Then he kisses you again, and this time you let him take you apart with his tongue. Against your lips: “We can take care of you.” 

You draw apart, breathless. You pointedly stare at the wall behind him while you attempt to regain what’s left of your composure. Suguru laughs and presses a kiss to your collarbone, one hand sliding underneath your shirt onto bare skin, thumb lightly dragging over the scar of raised flesh on your side.

“Besides,” he murmurs, lips still attached to your neck. You can feel the slightest kiss of teeth. “Satoru makes more of a mess than the kids. It’s only right that he cleans up after himself.”

“Hey!” The sound erupts from behind the door. 

You should’ve known. 

—

[extra]

“I’m so sorry,” you bemoan.

Ten minutes prior, Nanako had run into the kitchen, brush in hand and horrified, ("Papa, something's burning!"), then she had looked at you, brightened in understanding, and called back into the hall: “Everything’s alright guys!”

Satoru looks over at the unrecognizable charred pieces of salmon on the stove top, face unreadable. Then he shrugs and drops a light kiss on your nose. “You tried.”

You hide your face in your hands.

You also pretend not to see Satoru discreetly handing Megumi a pack of bills as the kids shuffle out the door for school.

#rip!mc failwife stsg househusbands #what is a man nowadays if he can't cook and clean and do the laundry and the dishes #like c'mon now put 'em to work!!!!! #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #m.jjk #poly au

[yrluvjane]

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅

[old money] James x fem!reader

《 Summary - After a coincidental encounter, James takes interest in one of his employees. 》

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who didn't know the Potters, especially when they owned everything. From banks, houses, and yachts to mansions, planes, and private islands. The family was known for its wealth and power. Almost ten generations have come since their fortune was assigned and now they’ve reached the point in being one of the richest and influential families in Europe. 

And it wasn’t every day James Potter, the only living heir, walked into a diner where he would only be served greasy fries and pizza. His perfectly tailored designer clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb no matter where he sat.

Sat on a table at the far end of the room, with a relaxing book in his hands and a steaming cup of black coffee on the table; James Potter’s eyes wandered from word to word and line to line, finding peace in between the letters. His eyes would raise temporarily every time the hanging door bells jingled to check if his company had arrived.

Despite the loud noise of chatter, the diner was mostly empty, only six tables were taken. The sudden and loud laughs of a group of women disrupted his reading, and James involuntarily swung his head towards them, confusion and curiosity swirling in his eyes. 

There, by the booths, sat a group of five girls all cheering loudly for their friend. James guessed that the woman they were cheering for was engaged, his eyes slightly squinted at the lady as she displayed her hand on the table for everyone to see.

It's not long before he realizes he’s not the only one looking at them; an elderly couple next to him, smiled fondly at the ladies and laughed together after a few short-whispered words. 

“Mr. Potter,” He blinked, refocusing his attention on the voice. He raised his head and found himself facing a young man in a wrinkled suit and skewed slim tie who was staring at him with a disturbingly wide smile. “An honor to have you here, truly.”

 “Thank you.” James responded blankly hoping to return to his book as quickly as possible without attracting unwanted attention from other diners, but it seemed as though the man did not comprehend James’ annoyance and instead decided to invite himself at James’ table. 

“My name is also James,”

The Potter one sent the man a tight-lipped smile. “I own this place, it’s actually my dad’s but I managed to sway him into giving it to me. So, yeah.” At that, the man had finally stopped talking and stared at James as though he was expecting the man to hand him an award and at James awkwardly silent response, the man threw his head back and laughed loudly. 

James narrowed his gaze at the man from behind his glasses and levelled him with a silent look of judgement. Though James did not speak any words his eyes expressed his feelings towards the man perfectly. And this time the man was able to clearly make out James' unpleasant impression of him.  "Not a man of many words, got it.”

“I’ll leave you to it then!” The other James said hesitantly, “If you need anything, and I mean anything I am right here!” The manager stood up and winked at him as he left.  

James sighed tiredly as the man’s voice faded and had finally vanished from his view. It was not that James was rude, it was the fact he did not appreciate people trying to sway him while he was having one of his very rare moments of peace.

His life has always been open to the public, from press conferences and social events to having people stalk him to his home. And though James would have seemed rude he didn’t think the twenty-something year old boy would have anything to say that was worth listening to.

James would rather have this limited time to hear his own thinking without having everyone train their eyes on him and bug him with their opinions of his every thought.

And not a few minutes later, the door swung open once more, ringing the bells and allowing a cold breeze to flow in. James’ eyes followed the jingles as he raised his cup of coffee to his lips and when his eyes trained on the silhouette he was met with a surprising feeling of familiarity. 

His hold on his book loosened, and he gently put the cup back on the saucer. He leaned back on his chair and narrowed his eyes at the woman, trying to make out where he could’ve seen her. By the style and quality of her clothes, he doubted they had worked together. And even if she wore something less normal, there weren’t many acquaintances he knew that would step into anything like this diner.

He let his eyes follow the lady’s figure all the way to the celebrating group of women, all of whom started beckoning her over once they saw her. The closer she was to them the clearer she became. Under the small restaurant’s soft yellow glow, he could finally notice her blue jumper and black trousers. She waved to her friends and walked to them, a black coat hanging from her arm.

Once she took a seat, she scanned the place; freezing once she laid eyes on him. Her eyes widened, blinking owlishly, staring at him with parted lips. She recognized him, yet he still couldn't make sense of who she was. A reporter? An ex? Maybe an assistant? An employee? His mind raced with possibilities and theories trying to guess or at least sense where he’d met her.

As time passes at the speed of a turtle, he can feel the young woman’s gaze at him from afar. Every few minutes or so she turns to him as though she’s expecting something to happen; he doesn’t dare look back but he does catch her eye once. He turns to his side, slightly annoyed and faces her, staring unashamedly. 

Her face of curiosity morphs into one of embarrassment, and James finds himself breaking their little contest when the door swings back open again and his friend walks in, waving at James from across the room. He shoots the girl one last look but this time, it’s her back that’s facing him.

A week later, James is sitting on a lounge chair by the pool, hoping to get some work done. The sun shone brightly above him, and despite there being cool winds breezing by, James’ clothes still stuck to his skin through a layer of sweat.

“Mr. Potter,” Anders, the Potter's head butler, calls. James faces him, scrunching his face against the sun's rays and smiles.

“Yes, Anders?” 

“I have Miss Page on the phone.” He states with a sympathetic smile, handing him the black land phone. James sighed, getting up and taking the phone, he sighs one more time, this time at his assistant’s name on the small screen. “Margret?”

“James! I called six times!” She exclaims, and he can hear the distracting background noises of ringing phones, chattering and pointy heels undoubtedly belonging to the woman on the phone. ”My phone isn’t with me.” James says after shuffling some papers and looking for it. “Why? Why would you not have your phone around you at all times? I mean, what if an emergency happens? Do I have to wait for Anders to pick up the phone after four rings?” 

“Marge? I’m kind of busy here, too.” He says into the phone, stretching his legs by pacing around the large pool. The sun shines on the water so brightly that James has to have on his sunglasses just to not be blinded by the reflecting sparkles of light.

“Well you should thank me. I had the meeting on Tuesday postponed to Thursday, just like you asked. Then, I have Patrick bothering me about Jackson Mills. Things are heavy James, especially now with election season so close.”

“I’ll call Jackson today—”

“Great!” She cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

James chuckles softly as she moves on to the next thing on her list. Margret was a wonder truly, but don't be fooled she was direct and pointed as her heels.

“You have dinner at 6:30 on Wednesday with Delilah’s parents,” and for the next few moments the line is silent, “I can always tell them you got into a car crash, if you’d like?” She suggests, her voice much clearer now as the background noises fade out. “No, no, my parents have been pestering me about this for weeks, I might as well get it over with. Marge, the report for the new expansion project is on my desk, have Carter send them to me, please.”

There's a sound of shuffling papers before Margaret's voice appears once more, "It will be with you in 30 minutes."

As she continues, James looks down at his shoes in weariness, sighing, before raising his head up once more; movements by the bushes catch his eyes. He walks over to the end at the end of the pool, where he suspects the gardeners are working, his brows furrowing as he gets closer. 

And when he finally reaches the fence, his lips parted in amusement and chuckles at the scene in front of him. 

“James?”

“Sorry, Marge, you were saying,” James says, barely listening. His arms are leaned over the black fence that separates the pool from the gardens. There, on the ground, sat the woman from the restaurant. Her uniform was all muddy and stained with dirt and grass, her hair was pushed up in a messy up-do that was somehow being held up with a fork. 

James laughs.

“Marge, I’ll call you later.” He says, cutting her off as he ends the call and stares at the woman. At the sound of his amusement, the young lady faced him with a perplexed expression. “Mr. Potter,” She addresses, eyes wide and strands of hair falling over her face. She huffs and fails to push them back with her arm. ”I’m so sorry for bothering you.” She said, “I can leave if you’d like. I’m done anyway.”

“No, no, there’s no need to leave.” He states, his eyes focus on her uniform, a question forming in his head. “May just ask, why are you working in the gardens if you're supposed to be working in the kitchens?” He asked, and he watched her squint her eyes and shade her view with with her arm. 

“Tony, the usual gardener, his daughter, got in an accident. And since I’m done with my work, l told him I could take over while he went to see her in the hospital. I do hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no. But why not just call another one of the gardeners?”

“I…didn’t think of that.” She said, biting her lips and narrowing her eyes. “Mmmh,” James hummed, “So what is it you're doing exactly?”

“Oh I’m just potting these!” She said, pointing towards a bush of pinkish flowers. “Looks great.” He commented blankly.

“Think so? I’ve never done this before.” She pointed, getting on the ground once more.

“In the end of the day it’s them being judged, not your…limited knowledge in gardening.” He said and studied the woman as she laughed. “Oh you should see the Gardenia’s they've put by the gates! They’re gorgeous!”

“Do you like Gardenia’s?” He asks and takes off his shades as the clouds begin to cage the sun. He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back loose curls. “They are very pretty.” She notes, and James foresees the incoming 'but'.

“– But not enough to be your favorite?” He finishes and she looks at him and shakes her head smiling. “I can’t pick at all. They’re all so beautiful.”

“You seem to know a lot about flowers but so little of gardening?”

“When I was younger, my neighbor gave me a flower book. It had the names of the flowers and when they bloomed, and where they bloomed. That's all it said. ” She shares, "I didn't really have much to do as a child, so I took on reading. I enjoyed it for a while."

James squinted his eyes at her. Curiosity blooming in his chest. Taking a step back from the fence, he pointed towards his pool with his thumb. "What would you put here?" He asked.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, confused.

"The pool seems kind of bland, doesn't it? It's all plain and boring. We can do better."

"Oh," she asks and stands back up to look onto his side of the fence. James took the opportunity to clearly look at the woman as she dusted her knees and skirt of grass. She was pretty, that was quite clear. But it didn’t make that much of a difference to James; after all he’s had his share of beautiful women every now and then. 

She walked forward and leaned on the fence, the smell of jasmine reaching his nose. It was a lot more welcoming and relaxing than the smell of chlorine the pool gave off.

His studied her face, her focused eyes, her bitten lips, and even the small hairs failing to be held up. "....You could go for the classics and pick some roses?"

He arched a brow at her, and she pursed her lips in response before facing the pool once more. "Angel's Trumpet?"

"Aren't they poisonous to the touch?" He asked, leaning back on the fence and giving her his most charming smile. "Right, I forgot about that." She mutters, biting the inside of her cheek, James smiles at her embarrassed expression.

She shifts from one foot to the other. James catches her fidgeting fingers and instantly feels bad for making her uncomfortable. He stands up straight as a frown takes on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put this on you. It's not your job,"

"Oh no, it's fine, really. I... Oh! What about Daylilies?" She asked. James looked at her in thought, "What flower would be on all your top favorites lists?" She tilted her head in thought, her arms falling to lean on the fence as she fixed her gaze on the pool. 

"Jasmine's." She stated as she looked at him. Suddenly aware of how their elbows are touching and how small the space between them is, James's smile turned to a light smirk.

It seemed that she noticed cause soon enough she coughed and took a step back, apologizing. "It's fine." James replied. His eyes wandered over her figure one last time before putting a hand out. "James."

She stared at his hand as though she believed it might bite her. She looked at him, then his hand, and took a step forward, pushing her hand out and introducing herself. “An honor.”

“The honor is all mine.” James says, holding her hand in care as he raised it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He watched her face break into a smile before she bit the inside of her cheek and faced James with a raised brow. James only smiled in return.

He wasn’t sure why but this woman had definitely caught his attention. “I should probably get going.” She said and leaned down to grab the leftover equipment and gave a hesitant wave.

“Good Bye” James said, waving back and watched as she disappeared behind the greenery of the gardens.

The next day you woke up with a striking headache and the usual urge to fall right back into bed. It took at least 10 minutes to finally convince the rest of your body that it would be for the best to get up.

And you eventually did, after having a nice warm shower to soothe your back and warm you against the coldness of your bathroom, you dressed in your everyday clothes and quickly made your way to the local farmer’s market, in hopes of getting there early.

The most distinctive smell was that of Olive oil, it filled the air and the closer you got the easier it was to make out the strong scent of spices. It was 9:15, the farmers were set up and there was a respectful amount of families and people buying fresh groceries. It didn’t take long for you to grab your things, as you’ve been coming here for years you were practically a usual so most of your orders were pre-ordered and all you had to do is pick them up.

By 10 you were outside the large black gates to the estate, a golf car awaited your arrival as to drive to the main doors, you never really understood why there was around a mile from the gates to the Manor. “Thanks, Robert!” You said, grabbing the bags and running up the steps to the front doors of the service enterance. Anders swung the door open just as you reached the last step.

“Morning, Anders.” You greeted me with a smile.

“Good Morning, Miss —” He was cut off with four men entering the large foyer. You trailed your eyes over their uniform, a dirt-stained grey jumpsuit with a green flower logo on their chest. ‘Gardens?’ You mouthed at the older man, he nodded back. “Yes, Mr. Fretman, if you will follow me, please.”

You snickered at Anders' tone of exasperation as he guided the men out. You managed to side-stepped all the priceless furniture that was in your way to the kitchens and it was no easy task. It was more like an obstacle course, especially with your sense of sight being blocked off by overly filled brown paper bags. 

Potter Estate was the definition of over the top. 

The Manor consisted of 16 guestrooms, 24 bathrooms, 2 kitchens, an indoor pool, an indoor sauna and jacuzzi, a music room, 2 library’s, the theatre room, a sewing room, 4 offices, a wine cellar and an attic, with lord knows what in it. 

The outside was even grander, there was the stables, the shooting range, the lake yards of grass and fancy gardens, the greenhouse (Which no one really sat in except Mrs. Potter whenever she visited), the outdoor pool, the garage and lastly the old stable house (Which, according to Anders, was turned into a "bat cave" by Mr. Potter Sr. for his son and his friends when they were younger.)

You made your way to the end of the west wing, pushing the large oak door open with your feet and sliding in. The evident silence came as a surprise, you would’ve expected to hear shouting, yelling, arguing, the sounds of slamming cupboards and chopping knives, something. But it was completely silent.

You placed the paper bags on the large kitchen island, which was three times the size of your bed and began sorting the fruits, vegetables and cheeses into the fridge and anything else in a cupboard. Once done, you threw the brown bags into a trash bin before washing your hands.

Your mind wandered away, wondering what might have happened to the rest of the crew. You huffed and wondered if you should look for them or not. Maybe they all got sick? But they were all fine yesterday. They were called somewhere else? Anders would have told you to join them. You took a look around and pushed your hair back with a headband and slipped on a hair net. You took one hesitant look around hoping someone would walk in but after a long and silent minute of you leaning on the marble table, gazing at the overly decorated door, you turned your gaze away from the entrance.

You shuffled from one cupboard, pulling all sorts of ingredients; flour, egg, sugar, vanilla , everything you needed to make a batch of cinnamon buns. And in a few moments you had already begun the first step, humming as you kneaded the dough, gently folding it between your hands and letting it rest for a while after you had declared it ready. You moved to preset the oven and a small red bulb lit up as you twisted the knob, signaling it was on.  

You yawned and your vision blurred as your eyes teared up from sleepiness, you really needed to get a better sleep schedule. Brushing the tears away with your arms, you pushed yourself up, putting aside your weariness and walked back to your cooking station.

It was almost half an hour later, when the doors to the kitchen swung open and you smiled up at Anders as he walked over to you. You were practically done, he had walked in on you smearing the icing on the buns. “They’re fresh out of the oven! Try one!” You offered, cutting him a piece and plating it. “Here, you can top it with whatever you like.” You pointed towards the spread of different sauces and toppings on the table.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/n. And I do appreciate this but sadly I did not come here by my own means.” He says with a soft smile and you unconsciously wipe your hand on a cloth before facing the man with confusion. “Has something happened? Is that why everyone is absent? Does it have something to do with Tony’s daughter? Is she—”

“No, no, no. Mr. Willfard’s daughter is being treated for a broken arm and bruised sides, it’s been confirmed that she will make a full recovery.” He says and you smile gratefully, the worry inside of you lessening, still there but much more eased.

“And about the others, they were given a day off by Mr Potter.” He says and you freeze on the spot. “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’  and since we are on the topic. Mr. Potter has sent me to inform you that he is expecting you by the pool.” 

Your eyes widened and so did your mouth, silent movements of your lips were targeted at Anders out of shock. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter? As in James Potter?”

“Are you acquainted with any other ‘James Potter’s?”

“No.” You answered hastily as you your mind racked to why he would want to speak with you and at the top of your head, and like a blaring siren, yesterday’s events shone. “Was he happy when he asked you to call me? Did he ask it in a ‘I just want to talk’ way  or more of a ‘I’m going to fire you’ tone.” You asked and you instantly felt smaller under the blank and unimpressed expression Anders gave you.

“If you will follow me – What are you doing?” Anders asks, his brows furrowing and lips frowning. “Plating these! They must be served warm or else they’re not as delicious.” You whisper, rushing around just as quick the thoughts in your head.

He sighs and leans his hands on the table, watching as you took your time to gently pick each roll and delicately place them on a large plate.

Once you're done you move the dirty trays to the sink and wonder if you could buy yourself some time as you scrubbed the pans and dishes.

“Leave those and follow me. I’ll assign someone to do them later.” Anders says and you can’t help but butt in, “But everyone took the day off! Except me.” You mutter the last part in a harsh whisper and sigh, accepting defeat. You grabbed one of the pastry-filled tray and angrily hand it to the butler before grabbing the others. 

It almost feels like forever as you followed Anders, your fingers were nervously tapping the silver platter. You took deep breaths and purposely slowed your pace. Anders didn’t even bother to look at you as he led you. You looked around you trying to make out where he’s taking you too. It came as a surprise when you had passed James' office but now you were completely out of the Manor.

“Anders, where are we going?” You asked, Anders didn’t turn to you but did slow down. “To the pool grounds.”

He was going to fire you. You admitted mentally. Should've kept your mouth shut! It is a known, unspoken rule that you should never share your opinions with rich people.

You should treat them like kids, don’t talk to them, don’t get in their squabbles and don’t tell them the truth cause it will make them pissed and emotional and then you will be forced to deal with their tantrums.

However you completely ignored that rule yesterday, when you shared your opinions with Potter of all people. Before you even reach the pool, you hear loud noises and shouts coming from its direction. One very distinctive voice was that of James Potter.

“Miss L/n.” Anders addressed and motioned for you to step ahead of him. You sighed and masked your face before climbing the short stair in quick steps.

The first person you were met with was James. He stood towering over a large group of men that were scattered across the pool yard. James’ is dressed in similar attire to yesterday’s clothing and you almost smile back when he turns to you with a grin. “Mr. Potter.” You greet with a strained tone, placing the tray of buns on a nearby table with harsh clack. 

“Oh, how lovely. Anders, please pass them to the workers, will you? And please call me James. How’ve you been?” He asks, still smiling and you're not so sure of what to make of the man. 

Anders agrees in his usual formal tone and you watch him with the corner of your eye as he picks up your tray and walks down over to the working men.

“I’m fine?” You reply hesitantly and thankfully he doesn’t notice your questioning tone.

“Well I’m glad. I’m sorry to strip you of your day off, I assure you, you can have tomorrow for yourself.”

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the man, you're quite confused and to add to it you almost feel ridiculous while speaking to him with his sunglasses on. “Take off the shades.” You order in a blank tone and you see James’ posture change as he takes a step back and pulls the accessory off. Before he can get the chance to speak, you cut in, “Are you going to fire me?” You ask, the smile completely wiped off your face. You narrow your eyes at the man and watch as he speaks to you in genuine surprise. “Why would I fire you?”

“Then why am I here?” You asked, your confidence slipping. “I’m not here to fire you,” he laughs, “I just wanted to show you this,” He explains motioning towards the pool. “...I’ve seen the pool before.” You say, this time your confusion is clearly plastered on your face. “I mean this.” He says and he guides to the side of the pool, where three men are potting some Jasmine’s. “You picked Jasmine’s?”

“You said it was one of your favorites, right?” He asked, and you faced him with a look of surprise. “You picked Jasmine’s cause they were one of my favorites?” The older man blushed and he faced you with wide eyes, “No! Yes, but not directly, I just picked them because I guessed they’d have to have been really nice flowers if they were on your favorites list.”

“Okay.” You said, still confused but you sighed and brushed it all away. James watched your face soften as you took a step closer to them. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” You ask, your eyes trained on the small, delicate, white petals of the flower. “Yeah…and they smell nice too.” You laugh, turning to face him as you lightly throw your head back. “Yeah, that too.” You agree watching a soft smile adorn his face.

“Here,” James says as he walks over behind a table, you watch lean down to grab something and your lips part in awe as he walks over to you with a pot of Jasmine’s. “Mr. Potter, I–” You’re in shock and happiness. They’re is a small sickening feeling in your stomach and you do your best to try and avoid it.

“A thank you,” He says. “And as I said earlier, it’s just James.”

《 NEXT PART 》

Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog @ietss

#james potter #james potter x reader #old money!James Potter #muggle!au #muggle!James potter #james potter imagine #marauders era #james potter fanfiction #james potter one shot #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #muggle au #muggle!marauders #james fleamont potter #the marauders #Your Love is better than Gold (Series) #harry potter #harry potter x reader #james potter fluff #marauders #the maruaders #the marauders era #james potter headcanon #james potter thoughts #jamespotter #harry potter marauders #james potter smut #james potter fic #mwpp

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

Pairing: Rockstar!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.1k

Warnings: angst, forgetting an anniversary, feeling like he found someone better than you, fluff at the end

Request by anon: Hey can i request a rockstar Dean where the reader is her girlfriend and he miss them anniversary for some reason and never called the reader to tell her and she go mad and stop talking to him? Happy ending

Summary: Dean is a world-famous musician/singer who is currently on tour. Your five-year anniversary is coming up on a day that he is scheduled to do a show in Japan. What happens when he forgets to call you on this most special day?

Square Filled: celebrity for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

The concert isn’t for another hour but there are already so many fans in the stands and on the floor. One of your favorite things about being in a relationship with a famous musician/singer is to meet their fans. Everyone knows you and Dean Winchester are in a relationship since you’re all he talks about whenever he goes for interviews. They’ve seen plenty of videos of you two together, and both your Instagrams are filled with each other. Your lives are private but you love to share him on all of your social media. You’ve gained a lot of followers since announcing your relationship but you don’t mind.

None of the fans are expecting you to show up even though they’re secretly hoping you do. Not every seat on the floor is filled but a lot of them are. Fans from all over the country grab their seats and mingle with each other, gossiping about the latest news about you and Dean. One girl from a small group sees you and visibly freaks so now everyone is looking her way. Once they see you, they get so excited to meet the elusive Y/N.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you guys!” you grin and give hugs to those who want them.

“Can I take a picture with you?” someone asks.

You pose with as many fans as you can, making friends and complimenting everyone on their outfits.

“I love your dress! You look so cute in it!” you gush to a fan.

“Oh, my God. Thank you! You look amazing!” she grins. “Would it be too much to ask if you can sign this?”

“Me? You want my signature?”

“Of course! You’re amazing!”

“Okay,” you smile and sign whatever she has for you.

You’re not used to people asking for pictures and signatures since you’re not the famous one, but it’s nice to be recognized. You’re with Dean all the time so all of his fans know who you are. Where he’s the breadwinner, you’re the stay-at-home girlfriend who takes care of the plants and pets. You don’t like working so this is a good setup for you two. You two talked over how this was going to work and both came to the compromise that he would make the money. It’s not like he minded. He loves touring, interviews, and making music with his band. Plus, with no job to hold you down, you get to go with him to different countries and see his shows.

Once you’re done on the floor, you head backstage where your boyfriend is. He’s sitting down on the couch tuning his guitar. The opening act is just about to go on stage so he has some time before he needs to go on stage.

“I found her!”

Dean looks up when he hears his brother from across the room.

“There’s my girl,” Dean smiles and puts his guitar down. “I wonder where you went off to.”

“You have the nicest fans,” you grin and sit next to him.

“They’re all women. Of course, they’re nice.”

Dean wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

“I don’t know, I know some women are monsters.” Dean only smiles at your comment and kisses you slowly. God, it feels so good to kiss him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Winchester.”

“You know me. Give me ten minutes and I’m golden.” He pulls away from you with a sly grin. “Are you staying for the whole show?”

“Of course.”

You two relax on the couch as he tunes his guitar. As soon as the opening act is finished, it’s Dean’s turn to get ready for the stage. He and his band make their way under the stage so they can be lifted up onto it. You walk back onto the floor and over to the VIP section where some other celebrities have come to see his show. It’s also amazing to be friends with actual celebrities. You never thought you’d get the chance t be friends with so many of them.

As soon as Dean and his band are lifted onto the stage, the crowd goes wild. Dean is so happy on stage playing his music for people who make what he does possible. The smile on his face says it all, and you scream along with the fans. The entire concert is about two hours including the opening act which is more than enough time for Dean to get through many of his new songs including a few older hits that are played on the radio. He also plays his version of “Simple Man” as an acoustic set which the fans adore.

When the concert is over, you make your way backstage where Dean is celebrating with his brother, his band, and his manager for yet another successful show. Dean sees you enter the room and his eyes light up. He runs over to you, picks you up, and spins you around.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!”

He sets you down and kisses you quickly.

“Let’s go back to the trailer.”

“You have things to do after every show.”

“Not tonight.” He turns to Sam who only nods. He already knows what he is going to ask. “Thanks, Sammy!”

Dean whisks you back to his trailer which is empty. He has his own that he shares with Sammy while there is another one for the rest of the band. It’s a plan they all came up with since you’re usually with Dean and they really don’t want to hear you two on the road. You two stay in for the rest of the night as Dean shows you just how good it feels to be with someone who is good with his hands.

In the morning, you’re the first one up. The curtains next to his bed don’t cover the entire window so the sunlight on your eyes is what woke you up. You turn to face Dean who is still naked from last night’s activities. His cheeks are naturally rosy, his freckles dance across his face, it seems like his long lashes are touching the top of his cheekbones, and his mouth is slightly parted where soft snores come out. You could stay like this forever but you know you have to get back home.

You’re so much in your own head that you don’t see Dean open his eyes to show you his bright green irises. It’s still early so there is no one asking Dean to do things or needing him. It’s just you and Dean and that’s all you ever want. Dean raises his hand to push back the hair that has fallen in front of your eyes, and you grab his hand to run your finger over his calluses. He’s gotten a lot of them from playing guitar but you don’t mind. You like the roughness of his hands against your soft skin.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks in his morning voice.

“How much I love you. How much I wish we could stay like this.”

You lean up and kiss him, not caring that you both have morning breath.

“But?” he chuckles.

“You know me so well,” you smile. “But I can’t stay. I have to get home. Molly and Amber must be missing me so much.”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t keep you all to myself. I’ll be thinking of you, though.”

“Same here. Don’t forget, our anniversary is in a month.”

It’s marked for a day that is the same day as one of his shows in Japan but you have that weekend to do whatever you want together.

“I have it marked in my calendar. I won’t forget.”

Your small bubble of paradise has to end sometime, and when it does, you pack up your things to head back home to Austin, Texas. The flight is long but you’re kind of glad to be back home. Your big protective dogs, Amber and Molly, are happy to see you once you’ve picked them up from your best friend’s house. She is eager to hear stories from your travels so you stay at her house for a couple of hours.

“How was his concerts?” she grins and gives you some coffee.

“Really good. I’ve met so many fans and hung out with so many celebrities. It was insane! I even met Ryan Reynolds and his wife. They were so nice.”

“You bitch. Take me next time,” she jokes, and you both laugh.

“I wish I could be with him every day but I have girlfriend-household duties to take care of. For instance, these two,” you grin and pet both your dogs.

“Your anniversary is coming up, right? Any big plans?” Winona asks.

“I’m planning on flying out to Japan to surprise him the weekend after the date. He’s going to be in concert on the actual date. I’m taking him to a Japanese restaurant we’ve both been wanting to try. He doesn’t know I’m doing this.”

“That’s so exciting! Think he’s gonna do it this year?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. It’s been five years. I know he wants to do it but he might not since he’s in the middle of a tour.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. He might surprise you,” she winks.

The house is a bit lonely without Dean there but you make do for the three weeks. Amber and Molly are certainly glad to be back in their home with you, and you keep the house looking clean and better than ever. You’ll bring the dogs back to Winona when you leave for Japan next week even though you want to bring them with you.

You wake up on the day of your anniversary with a smile on your face. Today marks five years you’ve been with Dean and you’re so excited to spend another year with him. He is two hours ahead of you so when you wake up at eight, you’re shocked you don’t see a message from him. Every time you have a birthday, he’s always messaging you at midnight so he can be the first one to celebrate with you. He’s done the same thing for anniversaries but you don’t have a message this time. He probably spent last night partying with his bandmates so you’re not too concerned about it.

You get up, make breakfast, enjoy it in the sunroom, and do the dishes afterward. It’s a good day to spend outside in the garden or to relax by the pool so you change into your swimsuit and throw a light sundress over it. The day is spent in the sun and tending to the garden with beautiful vegetables growing. You might pick what you can make a hearty dinner later.

However, as the day goes on without a message or call from Dean, you grow worried. He didn’t forget, did he? You debate on calling him or not to see if he’s okay. No, if he forgot then that’s on him. The day turns to night, and you’re scrolling through TikTok for lives from his concert. He seems so happy on stage without a care in the world. Yeah, he forgot about you. Even well after the concert, he still doesn’t text or call you.

You go to bed with tears stains on your cheeks and a heavy heart.

You wake up the next morning and remember why you feel so shitty. Dean never called or texted. He forgot about you. You’re not upset that he forgot to tell you “Happy Anniversary”. It’s the fact that he could forget you. He’s out in different countries with his bandmates and brother, meeting girls in bars and fans on the floor while you’re back at home taking care of the dogs. You’re not with him while he’s out living this fabulous life. You’re pissed that there is a possibility he found someone better than you. You’re pissed at the possibility that he doesn’t love you anymore.

Your last relationship ended horribly and stuck with you even years into your relationship with Dean. He knows your fear of abandonment and he still didn’t call you.

You decide to head over to Winona’s house and hang with her instead of letting the silence sink into your skin. She is more than happy to have you over, and there is already a pot of coffee going when you arrive. She has a bottle of Baileys on the counter that she’ll add to make the coffees more spicy.

You sit at her kitchen island and put your phone on the tabletop. Just as you let go, Dean’s name pops on the screen. You quickly deny the call because you don’t want to hear his voice right now. Winona sees you deny the call and decides to add a bit of extra Bailey’s to your cup.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asks.

“He forgot our anniversary. He didn’t call or text me. I don’t even want to go to Japan anymore.”

“Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”

“I don’t care that he forgot. I’ve forgotten some pretty important dates. I’m scared he’s gonna leave me for someone else. He’s out there partying with girls from all over the world.”

“Y/N, that man loves you. So he forgot. Big deal.”

She won’t get it. She doesn’t know the details of your three-year relationship with your ex-boyfriend.

Dean calls you again and this time, you turn your phone off without answering him. Winona is a good friend and she helps you through a lot, but this is something you have to deal with on your own. She won’t understand how you’re feeling because she’s never had her heart broken. She never stays with someone long enough to get her heart broken, and she’s the one who breaks it off. She has flings, which is completely fine, but it doesn’t warrant advice about something she doesn’t know.

You keep your phone off for the rest of the day until you’re about to go to bed. You turn it on to see there are fifty missed calls, over a hundred missed texts, and twenty voicemails. All from Dean. You don’t check the messages or the voicemails but instead, call Sam. He picks up on the first ring and explodes in a panic.

“What the fuck, Y/N! Why haven’t you been answering the phone?”

“Is that Y/N? Let me talk to her,” you hear Dean in the background.

“Don’t put him on. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Listen, Dean is freaking the fuck out. He’s threatening not to do the show until you call him back.”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen. Look, something came up and I won’t be able to make it to Japan.”

“What the hell happened between you two? He has no clue what’s going on.”

That breaks your heart a bit. If he doesn't know then you’re not going to be the one to tell him.

“Nothing. Tell Dean he’s being a fucking idiot and to do the damm show.”

You hang up on Sam and turn your phone off again. You won’t want to hear from either of them, not for a couple of days at least. Dean can party with his friends and fuck all the women he wants to over there. The next couple of days are like this. You only have your phone on when you wake up and go to sleep because you know Dean will try non-stop to call you. You’d rather get cut off from the rest of the world than take Dean’s calls.

Those few days are spent with Winona since being in that big house by yourself isn’t ideal. Everything reminds you of Dean and the memories of being happy. She allowed you to sleep in her guestroom even though you two stayed in her bedroom like you were kids again having a sleepover.

Eventually, you had to get home so you begrudgingly walk up the front porch steps. You unlock the door and step inside. There on the floor are dozens of rose petals all leading to the back bedroom you share with Dean. On both sides of the petals is a line of fake candles to show the path you need to take.

You walk carefully to the bedroom to see a dozen more fake candles and much more rose petals. Standing in the middle of the room wearing his best suit is Dean. He turns to face you with a single rose in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” you gasp and step inside the bedroom. “You’re supposed to be in Japan. You’re supposed to be in concert right now.”

“I am so sorry for forgetting our anniversary.” You look at the ground as the feelings you have come rushing to the surface. “I love you so much. There is no excuse I can give you as to why I didn’t call you that night.”

Before you can say anything, Dean kneels to the ground on one knee. He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small velvet box big enough to fit a ring. He opens his mouth to say something but you hold your hands out to stop him.

“Wait, Dean, are you proposing because you’re sorry or because you want to?” He doesn’t say anything to that which tells you it’s the former. You chuckle and kneel down in front of him so you’re the same height. “Baby, the reason why I was so upset wasn’t because you forgot. We all forget. I was scared you found someone else while you were off being a famous rockstar. I was here and you were there and I thought you forgot because you didn’t love me anymore. I was pissed at you for that.”

Dean sets the rose and ring down to grab your hands.

“Sweetheart, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wouldn’t be me without you. No one can ever replace you.”

“Are you sure?” you whisper.

“I wouldn’t cancel a show for just anyone,” Dean laughs.

“You canceled a show for me? What about your fans?”

“My fans wouldn’t be my fans without you by my side. You’re the one who pushed me into playing. I owe everything to you.” You lean in and kiss him on his full lips, enjoying that you can do this after so long of being apart. He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “So, that’s a no on the proposal?”

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you whisper and kiss him again.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fiction #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural angst #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fiction #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fluff #spn angst

[spiderfreedom]

Why women presented as men, in their own words

Most of these working-class women appear to have begun their "masculine" careers not because they had an overwhelming passion for another woman and wanted to be a man to her, but rather because of economic necessity or a desire for adventure beyond the narrow limits that they could enjoy as women. But once the sexologists became aware of them, they often took such women or those who showed any discontent whatsoever with their sex roles for their newly conceptualized model of the invert, since they had little difficulty believing in the sexuality of women of that class, and they assumed that a masculine-looking creature must also have a masculine sex instinct.

Autobiographical accounts of transvestite women or those who assumed a masculine demeanor suggest, if they can be believed at all, that the women's primary motives were seldom sexual. Many of them were simply dramatizing vividly the frustrations that so many more women of their class felt. They sought private solutions to those frustrations, since there was no social movement of equality for them such as had emerged for middle-class women. Lucy Ann Lobdell, for example, who passed as a man for more than ten years in the mid-nineteenth century, declared in her autobiography: "I feel that I cannot submit to all the bondage with which woman is oppressed," and explained that she made up her mind to leave her home and dress as a man to seek labor because she would "work harder at housework, and only get a dollar per week, and I was capable of doing men's work and getting men's wages." "Charles Warner," an upstate New York woman who passed as a man for most of her life, explained that in the 1860s:

“When I was about twenty I decided that I was almost at the end of my rope. I had no money and a woman's wages were not enough to keep me alive. I looked around and saw men getting more money and more work, and more money for the same kind of work. I decided to become a man. It was simple. I just put on men's clothing and applied for a man's job. I got it and got good money for those times, so I stuck to it”

A transvestite woman who could actually pass as a man had male privileges and could do all manner of things other women could not: open a bank account, write checks, own property, go anywhere[…]

Ralph Kerwinieo (nee Cora Anderson), an American Indian woman who found employment for years as a man and claimed that she "legally" married another woman in order to "protect" her from the sexist world, also expressed feminist awareness for her decision to pass as a man:

“This world is made by man—for man alone.... In the future centuries it is probable that woman will be the owner of her own body and the custodian of her own soul. But until that time you can expect that the statutes [concerning] women will be all wrong. The well-cared for woman is a parasite, and the woman who must work is a slave.... Do you blame me for wanting to be a man-free to live as a man in a man-made world? Do you blame me for hating to again resume a woman's clothes?”

There must have been many women, with or without a sexual interest in other women, who would have answered her two questions with a resounding "no!"

From “Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers.” The economic reason for women to pass as men is almost never mentioned, funny that!

#mypost #radical feminism #lesbian women #bookcitation #the more things seem to change #gnc women #100 notes tag

[elf-kid2]

Modern Witchers

So this contractor drives into this tiny town, way out in the sticks, in the kind of beat-up white van used by many tradesman, and allegedly favored by murderous kidnappers.

He's got white hair that you're not sure is bleached or not, strange eyes short manners. Maybe (probably) he kinda gives you the creeps. White van, stranger-danger, big guy with muscles, and all. Bad vibes.

But you've got a problem, no denying: there's SOMETHING in those woods that doesn't belong there, and recently, when the local boys went to DO something about it... that SOMETHING went from killing livestock, to killing people to. And you know, once those types of creatures get a taste for human blood... best to deal with it sooner, rather than later. Hence, the out-of-town contractor.

Witchers specialize in hunting monsters, after all.

Better to put together a fundraiser to pay the (frankly, outrageous) fees now, then to have to pay all that later, plus the surcharge for beasts that've killed multiple people, plus pulling together the funds for more funerals.

A stitch in time save nine, as the saying goes.

He's got a musician hitchhiking with him, which you weren't expecting. Some hapless hitchhiker with a dufflebag over his shoulder, and a guitar on his back, who got lost on the way to Vegas, or Nashville, or wherever it is starry-eyed musicians go to Make It Big, these days.

Auntie said that any hitchhiker with sense'd be better off walking down a lonely road, instead of getting into a van like that, driven by a man like that. But I guess it takes all kinds of kinds, and that musician hadn't been murdered yet, so make of that what you will.

Anyhow, the musician started busking in the farmer's market-- some decent covers, a few original songs, and some kind of surprisingly catchy jingle for the contractor who'd given him a lift into town. It was pretty good; live music is always a treat when you can get it, and it'd been a while since the last Bluegrass Festival.

He knew how to charm people, work the crowd, how to ask for "donations to the fine arts" without being irritating about it. People dropped cash, and pennies, and quarters, into his open guitar case, at any rate.

I reckon he scraped together at least enough for lunch, form himself'n his friend. Witchers are surly and stingy as anything, y'know, so I wondered why he wasn't covering the meal, with how much he'd charged for slaying the monster...

...But I overheard mention of how he'd had to get that van fixed up at Joe's Auto-Mechanics, over by the old factory in the valley-- and everyone knows that Joe's Auto'll charge three times what the repairs are worth, with parts that cost ten times as much as they oughtta. Lord knows, those scammers'd be out of business, if there were any better options within 50 miles of their shop!

And that is why if you think your truck's getting ready to break down, you should try an' make sure it breaks down closer to home. And also why I figure it makes sense that even a Witcher'd be short on cash, after dealing with 'em.

Anyway, the Witcher spoke with the Sheriff, and he went out monster-hunting that night.

Meanwhile, that hitchhiking musician was playing at the local bar, and let me tell you-- he was pretty damn good! Played a few drinking-songs, and the kind of songs you can't play in front of the kiddos at Farmer's Market, played some catchy tunes that had people dancing and clapping along...!

I particularly enjoyed the murder-ballad about the woman who turned into a vengeful fire-monster when she found out her man was messing around with other women. Very clever wordplay, "flames of desire lighting up your funeral pyre!" Good stuff.

Then the Witcher came in-- fresh from the contract, and half-covered in mud and blood! Barkeep wouldn't even let him sit down until he'd hosed off the worst of it, out back!

Musician-- Jaskier, he called himself-- raised a toast to a successful hunt, and another to monster-hunters who let loving families sleep safely, and rowdy drunks stumble home un-eaten, and soon enough somebody was buying that Witcher a drink, and the barkeep gave him a plate of food on the house, and it was good times all around!

Beats toasting newly-dead friends, and drinking to forget the monsters at the door, any day.

The thing is, this is a small town. Not a lot of people come visit, and if they do, they're generally staying with family. Which is to say, there aren't any motels around here.

Now, that contractor, that Witcher, he'd asked around, beforehand, about what was available, in terms of overnight accomodations-- which, let's be honest, isn't much around here. Come morning, I saw that beat-up van parked outside the Rosebud Bed & Breakfast.

Now Rosebud's is a nice place, a respectable establishment, but we all know they've had some trouble since that big storm last month, when a tree smashed through the roof! Las I checked, that Bed & Breakfast only had the one bed fit for guests to sleep in!

Might've been a rather one-sided bidding war, or a tight fit, with two out-of-towners vying for a roof overhead, that night. But that's none of my business.

Jaskier the musician left town with the Witcher-- Geralt Rivera, I think the name was-- same as he came in. Well, makes sense that he wouldn't want to stay long enough to put down roots, a young musician on a mission to see the world and/or become rich and famous.

The Witcher, Geralt, did good work with the monster, too. I guess that's why they're the experts... Some folks are talking about having what's left of the beasty taxidermy'd, did you know? Might make a decent tourist attraction, or a decoration for Town Hall, or something. I don't know.

Anyway, all that's to say... don't let anybody tell you there's not still a need for Witchers, in the modern day.

#witcher #geralt #jaskier #geraskier