#the way women are expected to literally spend years of their lives making themselves look 'prettier' is so fucked up

[infectiouspiss]

when boys take an everything shower we spend 5 minutes washing and 40 minutes fighting the shower demons

#bishop.txt #dawg i do not miss the societal pressure of the everything shower #i never want to shave my legs again #i would rather die than shave my pussy again #the way women are expected to literally spend years of their lives making themselves look 'prettier' is so fucked up #i genuinely hope the everything shower does a horrible death #its not just washing your body and your hair its doing a billion things #i see ppl on instagram saying they do entire face masks and stuff in there while shaving every inch of their bodies its so scary

[chlorinatedpopsicle]

my dad is a real scrooge (he grew up poor) and is the main reason i never got into makeup: he always complained it was too expensive when my mom came home with new products. i never thought of it too hard as a teenager, because then you dont earn or spend your own money. but as an adult im shocked at how costly it is. and even when i feel down on myself, im happy ive at least come to terms with my own imperfect face.

Thank you for the ask. :)

It is truly infuriating that women are expected to spend thousands of dollars per year on toxic chemicals* that'll just be washed down the drain by the end of the day.

Think about what that means for women who are financially struggling: They already struggle to gather up enough money to pay for their food and living expenses, but the fact that a large majority of workplaces expect female workers to wear makeup—and the fact that women who wear makeup are much more likely to be hired—means that they have to devote a portion of their earnings to cosmetics. That's something men do not have to deal with.

*I’m not just being dramatic here. A recent study found that about half of the cosmetics sold in the US contain toxic chemicals. I recommend reading this thread by @ms-hells-bells. Women are literally poisoning themselves for the sake of beauty and social acceptance.

So makeup is not only psychologically damaging (by making you unable to relax, making you feel alienated from the natural state of your face, making you feel that your worth lies in your appearance, etc), it is also physically damaging, costly, and time-consuming.

I’ll leave you with a quote by Sandra Lee Bartky:

“The woman who checks her makeup half a dozen times a day to see if her foundation has caked or her mascara has run, who worries that the wind or the rain may spoil her hairdo, who looks frequently to see if her stockings have bagged at the ankle or who, feeling fat, monitors everything she eats, has become, just as surely as the inmate of the Panopticon, a self-policing subject, a self committed to a relentless self-surveillance. This self-surveillance is a form of obedience to patriarchy. It is also the reflection in woman’s consciousness of the fact that she is under surveillance in ways that he is not, that whatever else she may become, she is importantly a body designed to please or to excite.”

#asks #anti makeup #anti beauty industry #misogyny in the workplace #female oppression #mine

[mighty-poop]

Imma nag about Jkr and Hp some more because I can’t believe how upset I am about this and i need an outlet.

People who want to buy the HP game: I have no sympathy for you, you’re not a good person.

“You can’t just call all people who just want to play a video game evil” you literally have no excuses anymore!

JKR is transphobic. That is a fact, it is not up for debate. She blatantly admits it. She fits the definition in any shape and form. To her, every transgender person is just another lying rapist, somehow trying to trample on women’s rights. It doesn’t matter if the transgender person is male, female, neither or both, adult or child, we are all evil in her eyes. And if it was up to her, we’d be thrown in jail for daring to look gender-non-conforming. She’s literally advocating for that to happen right now!

She’s also freely spreading that hate to anyone who is dumb enough to listen to her. Attacks on trans people, and specifically trans women, has gone up since she started openly spewing her bullshit. That whole bathroom discussion should’ve stopped YEARS ago. She’s THE advocate for terf ideology which has been proven to be harmful to not only trans people but cis people as well.

Most people are aware of this. Everyone who doesn’t live under a rock have SOME semblance of her stance on all this. And you openly admitting that you still think she’s great and that you support her, makes you a transphobe. That’s also not an opinion, that’s a fact. That’s as true as 2 + 2 makes 4. If you support JKR, knowing what she stands for, you’re a transphobe. You’re evil.

Does that make you evil and a transphobe if you consume her content?

it depends on which content and how.

Buying the official merch, streaming the movies, buying the books brand-new, is all harmful. HP is JKR’s intellectual property and will remain so until 70 years after she’s dead. Every time you spend money on anything with the ‘wizarding world’ and ‘warner brothers’ stamp on it, a percentage of that money goes straight to JKR. Again: not an opinion. That’s how copyright laws works.

Knowing this, if you still spend money on JKR properties, you’re either very susceptible to capitalism or a transphobe.

Buying fanwork from etsy and consuming or creating fan content which is not sponsored by the wizarding world brand or warner brothers is less harmful, because JKR doesn’t see a single cent from that. But it is still harmful in a more metaphysical way. You’re keeping HP relevant, keeping it mainstream. The best way for JKR’s influence to die out, is if she’s no longer relevant. That means HP disappears from the mainstream.

Does this make you a transphobe? Honestly, no. HP has been part of people’s lives for decades. I personally believe it will never NOT be relevant or mainstream until most of my generation has bit the dust. Also, I think it’s psychotic to expect everyone to erase a part of themselves, which is what HP is for a lot of people. More than just JKR worked on the movies and on the old games. HP has always been more than JKR, even though she’s doing her hardest to make you believe otherwise. So no, and this IS an opinion, I don’t think you’re evil for consuming fan-content and wanting to keep the nostalgia bubble. I’m in a place where any HP content makes me feel physically sick, and that’s not a solution either.

Are you evil and transphobic for wanting to play the new game?

……. Yeah.

Like I said, what could POSSIBLY be your excuse? For the nostalgia? The game isnt even out yet. If you’re nostalgic, play the old EA games. In support of JKR? That means you’re a transphobe, we’ve been over this. To support the game devs? They’ve already been paid, dumbass. People in the corporate creative industry get paid while they’re working on the creative content. It’s like saying actors only get paid after they win an oscar or smthn, it doesn’t work like that. Plus, this will look great on their resume and portfolio, they’ll find work VERY easily after this. But the story and gameplay looks so fun? Really? The story of your playable character having to stop the goblin rebellion because the creatures that coincidentally look like Jewish stereotypes are sick of how the wizards treat them? The game where your playable character looks into their pureblood ancestry to find out if they’re the über-wizard? The wizard game that has only *checks* 26 spells?? That game???? You know you can just play Skyrim again, right? “But I want to be a character in Hogwarts and get sorted just like I always dreamed to be”! Yeah, I want that too! But not at the cost of REAL HUMAN PEOPLE that are in REAL ACTUAL DANGER because of the woman who gets royalties from this 60 dollar game! The woman who will happily take that money and spend it on rightwing activists who would love nothing more than to shoot trans people execution style. You’re basically saying that you getting to live a fantasy is more important than the lives and safety of real living people. That makes you an awful person.

A video game should not be more important to you than the safety of other people. It is literally that simple.

If you support transgender people, if you uberhaupt support any minority group, be it jewish people or poc, the solution is very simple: do not buy the game.

that is it, just don’t spend 60 dollars on a video game. However, some of you react like it’s the end of the world or that we’re demanding your firstborn child or something. I’ll repeat what some terf on tiktok said then: “it’s just a game.” You can 100% skip this one. I guarantee you there will be more.

“What if I pirate it and play it in private and don’t boast about it everywhere?” I mean, sure? It still speaks volumes of your priorities but at least you’re trying? Let’s talk about that main plotline after you’re done, I genuinely wanna know how you feel about it then.

But otherwise? Just take the L and the transphobe pin you so proudly wear and go away.

[yanet0121]

As I began looking at my posts on my blog, a lot of what I saw was about familial ties. It’s funny because my family is probably one of the most discombobulated dysfunctional families anyone could ever come from. My sisters don’t speak to each other, nor do they speak to my mom unless it’s insults. I haven’t spoken to my dad in years and I’m the only one who speaks to my sisters and mom separately. You can see through my work that I yearn for unity and love. In my first post I analyzed The Lunatic of Etretat in which I spoke about a woman who lost her mind either because of a death of her child or because she couldn’t conceive. I was able to feel the pain she felt because I am in constant fear about not being able to have children, I have irregular periods where I don’t get them for years and have fertility issues in my family. Not being to have a child might literally destroy me as a woman. I genuinely understand why women put themselves through IVF because you feel like such a failure not being able to start your own family. I practically don’t have a family other than my husband’s side. I literally must plan two separate parties just for my side of the family in order to get my sisters to attend and that’s without my mom coming. It’s sad to me and while I’ve been coming more and more at peace with it, I don’t want my children to live a life like mine. To feel like they’re so unwanted by family, that their own family can’t even suck it up for a couple of hours to spend time together during the holidays. Which moves me onto my next piece, Gong by Pierre Alechinsky. This piece gave me a feeling of movement, I always remind myself that if you stay still then you’ll get sad. You must move yourself, your thoughts, your emotions. You must process what’s going on and come to terms with it. You cannot let it build it inside you. The saturation of blues and whites peeking through made me see movement, even with the gong which seemed to radiate sound helped me feel peace. The background of the gong is of East Asian culture and Buddhists which are about acceptance and letting things be. I’ve come to accept that I cannot change people, nor can I expect others to change for me. If someone is a piece of shit then that’s them but that isn’t the type of energy I want in my life. I guess the theme of my manifesto is regeneration, within myself and the family I am creating. I cannot keep fighting to check those who step out of line with me. If you cannot respect my boundaries, my needs and wants then that is you and I will need to reevaluate if you are the type of person I deserve in my life. The last peace I will include in my manifesto is A Mother’s Love, A New Generation. Straight photography. Photos by my sister and I which include our dogs, also known as our fur babies. In this piece I speak on the amount of time, love, energy and money we invest in our dogs and how we just don’t see them as animals we own but as part of our families. Even in the title I tie in regeneration, where I speak on how my sister and I are creating our own families with our significant others and pets. I believe the reason why we provide so much love and effort to our pets is because we are making up for the neglect and abuse we faced as children and we both have spoken on breaking generational curses. Overall, I will not be the trauma I faced as a child, I will overcome everything ive been through and I will not allow it to affect the way I raise my children. I will become a newer better person, the person I deserved as a child and the person my husband deserve. I refuse to allow my trauma define me, I will regenerate into a better person because I am not my past. My pieces through this semester all stem from change and movement, the ability not only see the pain and struggles but feel it allows me to be sympathetic but understanding in a sense that shit happens, but you have to keep going. (A poke at another piece in my blog, It Happens, artist Jim Rennert. Located in the corner of Park and 5Th Avenue in downtown Naples)

[likeshipsonthesea]

mianmian gets to the lan sect lectures, discovers very quickly that every one of her peers has decided to use this time to figure out how quickly they can get into bed with someone of the opposite sex, and decides almost immediately that she has to pick a suitably unattainable guy to have a crush on.

the thing is, mianmian is lanling jin’s head disciple. she is capable, intelligent, and very very gay. the last of these things she isn’t exactly keen on telling people yet for a variety of reasons up to and including jin zixuan will be so awkward and stubbornly supportive about it and she doesn’t know how to deal with that yet

so when her friends giggle over the other young masters and finally turn to mianmian-- who’s trying to memorize at least some of the fifty-thousand rules before their quiz tomorrow--and they ask her, “who do you like, mianmian?” she says the name that she carefully picked out of a handful of options.

“lan-er-gongzi,” she says, without looking up from her textbook, and she assumes that will be the end of it. 

lan wangji is both incredibly attractive and unrelentingly resistant to all attempts to flirt with him. she, like half the other female cultivators, can moon over him (or pretend to moon over him) all they want and nothing will come of it. it’s perfect. she’s a genius. the worst she’ll have to do now is pretend to be infatuated with him when her friends start gossiping. it’s fool proof.

spoiler: it’s not

it’s not, no, because her friends are horrible and immediately start gossiping about it to everyone, and usually mianmian wouldn’t care but then jin zixuan finds out. jin zixuan, whose marriage complex is being brought to center stage with the forced proximity to his bride-to-be. jin zixuan, who for some reason decided he has to live his stolen crush-addled youth vicariously through his only real friend that isn’t related to him. jin zixuan, who for some godforsaken reason takes it upon himself to contrive situations for mianmian and lan wangji to be alone together incessantly.

it unfortunately takes mianmian longer than she would like to figure out what’s happening. she’d give herself a break for it-- she was being responsible and studying, thank you very much-- but she doesn’t have much sympathy for her own stupidity seeing as she’s currently locked in a section of the lan library with the second jade of lan

and suddenly, suddenly she’s just so fucking tired. of studying, yeah, the tests here are brutal and there’s no one to bribe to make sure she doesn’t lose points on stupid things, but also tired of lying to the people she loves and tired of training this hard and being an amazing cultivator only for people to care more about her eventual marriage-- to a man of all things!-- and also, let’s be real here, she’s been in lectures with beautiful capable intelligent women for like months and she’s losing her gay ass mind

and so maybe, possibly, as she’s locked in a library with a clearly confused and annoyed second jade of lan she kind of, momentarily, loses it and rants all of this at his steadily widening eyes

at the end of it, she realizes with no small amount of panic that she’s just confessed not only her attraction to women but the fact that she’s been letting wen qing’s ears of all things distract her from her studies. if anything, she’s sure lan wangji will fault her for inattention

but the second jade of lan, after a drawn-out moment filled only with mianmian’s labored breathing and rising panic, simply says, “i understand.”

mianmian stops. she squints. she tilts her head. she squints some more. lan wangji’s ears go pink and just like that she realizes -- “you’re a cut-sleeve.”

lan wangji’s ears go even pinker. he doesn’t nod, or agree, or outwardly react in any way, but mianmian is a capable, intelligent cultivator, and she’s sure of it.

mianmian sighs with a relief she didn’t know she could feel. “thank the gods.”

lan wangji doesn’t seem to know what to make of this response, or mianmian’s increasingly frequent trips to the library following their conversation, or mianmian’s staunch determination to befriend the guy, but that’s alright. mianmian is old hat at befriending awkward sect heirs by this point.

it’s not like lan wangji expressed any desire for her friendship, but the prospect of not being the only one with absolutely no interest in the straight shenanigans happening at gusu lan summer camp is enough to let mianmian ignore his obvious confusion. lan wangji is a great listener and only sometimes blushes when mianmian waxes poetic about the beautiful women she’s forced to surround herself with every day

“no but you don’t understand,” mianmian insists, alone in the library with lan wangji, “jiang-guniang asked me to help her with a sword form. i put my hands on her waist. i said something idiotic bc she was so pretty and right there and then she laughed. lan wangji. i’m in love.”

“yesterday you were in love with wen-guniang,” lan wangji says as he impassively turns a page in his book. “has this changed?”

“no, i’m in love with both of them. all of them. lan wangji. they’re all so pretty all the time. it’s horrible.”

lan wangji presses his lips into a firmer line, which mianmian’s come to understand means he’s repressing a smile. “i’m sorry to hear it brings luo-guniang such trouble.”

mianmian groans, fairly undignified, but that’s a lost cause with lan wangji at this point anyway. “i swear, if jin zixuan says one more bad thing about her i’m going to punch him and marry her myself.”

lan wangji says, “mn,” which mianmian takes to mean that he supports her in this line of thinking, which she finds both quite sweet and ridiculously funny.

grinning, she teases, “lan-er-gongzi, if i do end up marrying jiang-guniang, will you bear witness to our elopement?”

lan wangji’s lips press again, this time in the way that means he’s repressing a frown. “jiang-guniang’s brothers wouldn’t allow for an elopement,” he says.

mianmian huffs. “as if yunmeng or lanling will deign to host our wedding.”

lan wangji appears to ponder this for a moment before he says, “gusu will host it,” and it’s at that moment that mianmian realizes she’s actually gone and fucking befriended the second jade of lan.

what is her life.

of course, it’s not long after that that she goes to find jin zixuan and explain that she can’t make their weekly sparring match today because she has plans with lan wangji (jiang yanli tenderly brushed some of mianmian’s hair away from her forehead while they were working on sword forms and if mianmian doesn’t tell someone about it she’s literally going to explode) and she’s trying to be as polite as possible only for jin zixuan to scoff and pout (”i don’t pout”) and say, “i never took you for one of those women who throw themselves so wantonly at a man”

it’s only for having been friends with this absolutely horrible communicator for most of her life that she doesn’t immediately punch him in the face. “what did you just say to me,” she demands, but jin zixuan just sets his jaw and looks away, flushing down his neck in the way his mother describes as unbecoming and--

and mianmian suddenly realizes that her ridiculous best friend is jealous of lan wangji. 

(in a friend way, of course, he’s like her brother, the one time his mother implied that he ought not get too close to women in case it jeopardizes his betrothal to jiang yanli, he insisted he didn’t have any female friends repeatedly as his mother delicately danced around outright saying mianmian’s name until finally she broke and jin zixuan was basically like huh?? mianmian doesn’t count?? she made me eat dirt like six times when we were kids)

the sheer ridiculousness of jin zixuan, to set her up with a guy and then get jealous when she spends all her time with him

and fuck her, but she loves her stupid awkward ridiculous sect heir best friend and she doesn’t want him to think she’s gone and left him for someone else (gods know jin zixuan’s loyalty complex rivals his marriage one (on second thought the two might be connected)) and so, after making a few quick decisions, mianmian grabs her stupid best friend by the wrist and pulls him to the library

he protests all the way there, but he’s been letting her drag him wherever she wants since they were five and it isn’t as if he’s going to break the pattern now. she drags him to the library and sits him down across a startled lan wangji and then finally breaks and gushes about jiang-guniang’s fingertips brushing her forehead and doesn’t look at jin zixuan once the whole time

lan wangji, on the other hand, sends jin zixuan frequent glances, as if worried on mianmian’s behalf, which is super sweet and also how the fuck did mianmian get two awkward sect heirs to care about her platonically wtf. she spares a thought for her poor auntie, who would’ve loved to have a sect heir care about her niece in much less platonic ways.

at the end of mianmian’s rant, jin zixuan is blinking quite a lot. “you like women?” he asks. he’s always been a bit slow on the uptake. mianmian nods. “you like jiang-guniang?”

mianmian shrugs. “more or less. she’s just really pretty and i’m dying about it. it’s fine.”

lan wangji says, “mn,” sympathetically and jin zixuan continues to gape.

mianmian winces. “you’re not going to be weird about this, are you?”

jin zixuan shakes his head quickly. “no, no-- of course not, i--you know that i--you’re my best friend, i don’t care--what does it matter to me, who you want to--to touch your hair.”

it’s probably the most awkward sentence he’s said to her in years, but possibly more articulate than she’d been expecting. it makes her tear up regardless and she punches him in the shoulder to hide it, and that’s basically how the three of them start hanging out in the library nearly every day after lecture.

sometimes they go to the sparring ground, bc who’s better sparring practice than the second jade of lan? and sometimes (once or twice) mianmian manages to convince lan wangji to join her and jin zixuan for lunch in caiyi town when they don’t have lecture, but mostly they meet in a secluded part of the library where mianmian can rant about how pretty all the women at lectures are, jin zixuan can turn pink whenever she mentions jiang-guniang, and lan wangji can “mn” and nod sympathetically at all the right parts

and mianmian thinks that’s going to be the end of it, they’re just going to be friends now and everything else will move on as usual, bc by some ridiculous trick of fate lan wangji and jin zixuan seem to like each other. which makes sense in hindsight bc they’re both awkward sect heirs who care about cultivation and people a lot even if they’re not great at showing it 

(and he’d never say it but mianmian thinks jin zixuan’s easy acceptance of her liking women is probably the first time lan wangji’s ever seen someone accept that kind of thing before (maybe, possibly, other than his brother, lan xichen seems really cool, even if he does smile kind of intensely at mianmian whenever he happens upon her hanging out with his little brother.))

so they’re friends, they’re unexpected friends, and sometimes lan wangji even makes jokes in that dry deadpan way of his and sometimes jin zixuan doesn’t completely trip over his own words and manages to act like a normal human being and mianmian gets two idiots to care about and a perfect place to vent her womanly frustrations, and she thinks that’s the end of it and then wei wuxian accosts her after lectures one day

“do you like lan zhan?” he asks accusingly, eyes narrowed to slits. “what am i even asking, of course you like lan zhan, but do you like-like him?”

mianmian thinks sadly to herself that she’s much too into women to be dealing with all these men’s emotional problems. “lan wangji is my friend,” she says, carefully sidestepping wei wuxian, who continues to squint at her suspiciously. really, he’d been amusing when he flirted with her, but this? this is just ridiculous.

“does he know that?” wei wuxian asks. “because if he doesn’t, that’s just leading him on, and it’s really not nice to--”

“lan wangji knows we’re friends,” she says, trying to enunciate to get her point across clearly. “you can ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

wei wuxian squints a moment longer before he turns and flounces off. mianmian thinks this is the end of it until she’s accosted again after dinner with, “he said you were friends!”

for some reason, wei wuxian seems even more troubled by this than earlier. mianmian tries to suppress her eyeroll. “i told you he would?”

“but how,” wei wuxian says, suddenly whining. “i’ve been trying to be his friend for months and he refuses to acknowledge me.”

oh, mianmian realizes with a quickly dawning horror. she and lan wangji are not the only cut-sleeves at cloud recesses this summer. (she has suspicions, of course, but no confirmations on any of the others, but this. wow.)

she also realizes, decides really, that she has enough repressed sect heirs in her life and she cannot deal with wei wuxian’s cut-sleeve crisis or his evidently large attachment to lan wangji right now. she turns decisively and walks the fuck away. not her problem.

the lectures end eventually, of course, and mianmian and jin zixuan return to lanling with a horde of golden robed disciples, freshly deflowered and not all together more learned. it’s what, she thinks grimly, their sect leader would want.

the first few weeks go by and she realizes that she’s missed unloading about her frequent and fast falling-in-loves. jin zixuan just doesn’t sympathize right, bless him, and so mianmian takes to writing letters. she sends two without receiving a reply and just starts to write the third when a letter with the gusu symbol is delivered to her room.

she’s almost expecting to find a single mn written on the page-- she would’ve been delighted with just that, actually, the sheer hilarity of such a thing-- but instead she finds several pages filled with lan wangji’s perfect calligraphy.

it’s more than he’s ever spoken out loud, but it seems that propriety dictated that he return mianmian’s extensive letter with one of his own and he’s done so admirably. he responds to the events mianmian detailed in her letters-- most succinctly summarized as, woman are gorgeous and i’m dying-- and then writes about his own life in cloud recesses. apparently, he went on a little night hunt with wei wuxian and also nie huaisang and jiang cheng were involved? seriously, mianmian misses out on all the fun.

he’s also apparently taken in some rabbits, which mianmian immediately decides she needs to see. lan wangji, sitting prim and proper, with a bunch of rabbits in his lap? amazing. wei wuxian would die on sight, she’s sure of it.

he also ends his letter with a warning about qishan wen that has mianmian frowning. she takes it to jin zixuan who reads the paragraph and frowns. “i’ll talk to my father about it,” he says, which she can tell by his hunched shoulders he doesn’t expect to do much.

“talk to your father’s general too,” she suggests, because that man at least thinks with his head and not his dick.

jin zixuan nods but doesn’t hand back the letter. he skims it instead with a barely concealed surprise at lan wangji’s previously hidden expansive vocabulary. mianmian snorts and grabs the letter back. “you can write to him yourself, you know.”

jin zixuan flushes down his neck. “i know!” he insists and then turns and runs away because he’s a coward. mianmian shakes her head, smiling. what an idiot.

still, another week goes by and a letter arrives from gusu and, when mianmian takes it, assuming it’s for her, she finds it addressed to jin zixuan in lan wangji’s impeccable calligraphy and she grins to herself like an idiot. look at jin zixuan, making friends

(she suddenly understands why lan xichen gave her all those intense smiles during the lan lectures)

they go on in this way, writing letters to lan wangji from lanling. sometimes mianmian steals jin zixuan’s letters before he sends them so she can squeeze in some ranting in the post script without wasting a whole second thing of paper, and lan wangji replies dutifully, more verbose than he ever was in person, and it’s nice okay, like. she and jin zixuan have been best friends since they were kids but neither of them has ever been any good at listening and lan wangji is just so honest and earnest in everything, like they didn’t realize that people outside of lanling were actually not always plotting your downfall??? who woulda thunk

and then of course the wens go and ruin everything. they go to the wen lectures bc jin guangshan doesn’t want to “anger our trading partner” like the guy isn’t obviously going to burn carp tower to the ground the first chance he gets, and mostly mianmian and jin zixuan are just vaguely annoyed and put out about it

then lan wangji shows up with a broken leg and a burned sect and they are ready to murder some dudes

after years of breaking in and out of carp tower she and jin zixuan are old hats at this breaking and entering stuff and they manage to sneak into lan wangji’s guest quarters and tend to his wounds, ignoring all his silent glares and ranting furiously about how they’re going to murder wen chao by making him choke on his own dick (mianmian) and how they’re going to war with the wen sect even if he has to threaten his father with acknowledging all of his bastards as proper siblings in public to do it (jin zixuan)

lan wangji just says “mn” and makes various muted, distressed expressions, but mianmian thinks he’s touched.

“are your brother and uncle alright?” she asks, when she’s set his broken leg and forced pain medication down his throat.

“brother escaped with our sacred texts,” lan wangji says. “uncle is... unwell.”

mianmian knows lan wangji hates touch but the way he says it, with this horrible little frown, emoting more than she’s ever seen him, his barely suppressed anger and grief literally making his hands shake into fists, mianmian can’t help it, she hugs him. “we’ll make them pay,” she swears into his shoulder, ruining the lines of his robes with how she clutches at them. “i promise you.”

jin zixuan awkwardly pats lan wangji’s shoulder, which is a lot for him and mianmian spares a moment to be proud of his growth.

unfortunately, wen chao seems to delight in torturing lan wangji on his injured leg and lan wangji refuses to show weakness, which both impresses mianmian and pisses her the fuck off. she approaches wen qing (and her still gorgeous ears, sigh) and asks her to tend to lan wangji, since she’s like actually a doctor. wen qing does bc she’s beautiful, intelligent, and kind and mianmian spends most of that night sighing deeply as she relates this to a significantly drugged lan wangji

the cave of the xuanwu goes about the same as you’d expect. wei wuxian saving her from getting her face branded off is pretty rad of him, though he could’ve just like knocked the brand away instead of throwing himself in front of it but whatever, you do you boo. when lan wangji gets left behind the two of them don’t even have to wait for jiang cheng to grumble and ask for their help, they’re already on their way to carp tower for an army, thank you very much

when they rescue wei wuxian and lan wangji and lan wangji immediately turns to walk back to cloud recesses on a broken leg mianmian says, “fuck no, that’s not happening, you’re getting medical attention and then someone will fly you back home, okay, wtf wangji, sit down.”

and lan wangji is a stubborn bitch so obvs he’s like no but he’s also severely starved, dehydrated, and injured, so it’s not like he can just shake off mianmian holding him down and this goes on long enough for wei wuxian to wake up and see mianmian touching lan wangji, and something in his poor little brain just like breaks and he demands says, “lan zhan, come back to lotus pier with us.”

his argument, as he explains it, is that lotus pier is closer (it’s not; they’re just as close to carp tower as lotus pier) and that it’s closer to gusu for when lan wangji has to return home (it’s not; same deal) but then jiang cheng starts yelling, possibly in support possibly not mianmian’s not sure, and jin zixuan starts getting awkward, probably about the whole golden army behind him bc he’s a nerd and hates being overdressed at functions (this is basically the same thing), and mianmian looks at lan wangji and she sees--

something. she isn’t sure what exactly, but lan wangji looks at wei wuxian as he argues with his brother and he presses his lips into a thin line in the way that means he wants to smile and mianmian thinks, oh. maybe wei wuxian isn’t completely unrequited in his lan wangji obsession.

growing up in lanling, she knows how to use information to her advantage, so she immediately says, “young masters wei and jiang, what a great idea. lanling’s disciples would be pleased to accompany you and second young master lan to lotus pier to ensure everyone’s safe arrival.”

everyone splutters, indignant, confused, awkward (jiang cheng, wei wuxian, and jin zixuan, respectively) but lan wangji narrows his eyes at mianmian and doesn’t try to convince her to let him walk to gusu again, so she counts it as a win.

sect leader jiang and his wife seem surprised and annoyed, respectively, to be taking in so many guests, but sect leader jiang merely smiles pleasantly and directs them to some guest quarters and mianmian and wei wuxian ask, simultaneously, for doctors to tend to lan wangji and wei wuxian makes a face at her and mianmian sighs to herself that she really is too gay to be in the middle of his thing with lan wangji.

turns out, walking a lot and fighting a cannibalistic turtle on a broken leg doesn’t do wonders for healing. lan wangji is also the worst patient ever, he keeps trying to sneak out and get up even though word came from his brother that he’s safe and alright and that cloud recesses is starting to rebuild after qinghe nie and lanling jin came to its aid and pushed out the wen

but with the combined efforts of mianmian, jin zixuan, and wei wuxian (and even jiang yanli at one point, bc who could say no to her soup??) they manage to get lan wangji to just rest for a fucking second, really which results in the jin disciples and lan wangji staying in lotus pier for longer than anyone could’ve expected

mianmian spends most of her time (when she isn’t forcing lan wangji to just fucking stay in bed) working with the jiang disciples, practicing archery, sword forms, and mooning after all the beautiful women here.

(”lan wangji, i know she’s scary, but have you seen madam yu? she could whip me with zidian and i’d thank her” “luo-guniang, please don’t ask madam yu to whip you” OR “lan wangji, i’m almost positive madam yu’s maids are a thing, do you think they’d let me join them just like once” “luo-guniang, could you please pass me my sword?” “why” “i’d like to put myself out of this misery” OR “she made me soup. lan wangji. lan wangji, i know you’re not sleeping, wake up, you have to listen to me, this soup”)

they end up staying so long that when wang lingjiao shows up threatening a child about a kite while sect leader jiang is away, she has a lot more to deal with than madam yu. since none of this had been a “sanctioned visit” no one actually knew that there was nearly an entire troop of jin disciples staying at lotus pier, so when the wens attack they are sorely unprepared for what they’re going to face.

(and ofc lan wangji breaks out of bed heroically and keeps madam yu from whipping wei wuxian, which means they aren’t down one of their most powerful fighters and mianmian has to suffer through the moon eyes they’re making at one another in the middle of a battle no less, she knew wei wuxian had no shame but she’d been hoping lan wangji would have some)

after the wen attack (and defeat) on lotus pier and the jin’s inarguable part in it, the war starts in earnest. lan wangji, after his long rest, heals fine and goes back to gusu to help rebuild his sect and plan for war, and mianmian and jin zixuan return to carp tower to plan as well, ignoring jin guangshan and focusing instead on his general to ensure lanling supplies necessary aid in the war effort

and war is always shitty, of course, and mianmian hates watching her sect family die on the battlefield, hates waiting for updates after every battle to see who’s still alive, hates the politics and jin guangshan trying to wheedle his way out of fighting when there’s fucking lives on the line

(and she could never know, how much easier it is, with yunmeng jiang at its full strength, with one of the brightest minds of their generation there to plot and help, with two of the best fighters not out searching for someone and instead focused on the front)

they reach nightless city after months of fighting and mianmian is ready to just fucking stab wen ruohan herself when they’re suddenly trapped. blocked in on all sides by puppets, their fallen soldiers rising again to turn on them, and it--it looks like they’re gonna die.

“this sucks,” she says to lan wangji, stifling her fear and choking it down. “i never even got to kiss a girl.”

lan wangji just says “mn.”

jin zixuan, beside them, says, “i was an idiot about jiang-guniang.”

lan wangji just says, “mn.”

then wei wuxian pulls out a fucking flute and a-- floating piece of metal?  the army of puppets and corpses stops advancing, held in place by-- music, apparently? and wen ruohan emerges from his lair, black energy falling off him in waves, wei wuxian the idiot flies forward to meet him, gets wen ruohan’s hand around his throat for his trouble.

lan wangji yells, “wei ying!” and mianmian thinks, really not fair that lan wangji is gonna get a boyfriend before i get a girlfriend

and then wen ruohan gets stabbed by jin zixuan’s half brother of all people. wen ruohan, along with his puppets and wei wuxian, fall to the ground. lan wangji rushes forward to catch wei wuxian, mianmian runs after him, finds herself in company with jin zixuan and jiang cheng. when they get there, wei wuxian is barely conscious but he’s-- he’s fucking grinning up at lan wangji from the cradle of lan wangji’s arms

“lan zhan,” he says, “you caught me.”

lan wangji nods, says, “mn,” which is basically his equivalent of i’ll always catch you, wei ying.

“really,” mianmian says aloud, “it’s so unfair.”

the aftermath of the war is more annoying than the war itself, what with all the politics and in-fighting and jin guangshan trying to be the biggest dick there ever was. jin guangshan tries to name himself chief cultivator in wen ruohan’s stead but nie mingjue suggests jiang fengmian instead and the lan sect backs him. jin guangshan tries to demonize the wens but at wei wuxian’s loud rebuttal and sect leader jiang’s backing (which is then backed by both gusu lan and qinghe nie) he’s once again shouted down. and then jin guangshan tries to propose to jiang-guniang for his son and the poor woman just seems so awkward and her father doesn’t seem to know what to say and--

mianmian elbows jin zixuan whose eyes widen ridiculously but, after another, harder hit, he suddenly stands. all eyes go to him, which mianmian knows he hates, but he bows to his father, then jiang yanli, and says, “jiang-guniang, forgive my father’s impertinence. this is not the time or place to be making such an offer, but he--” jin zixuan winces visibly. “--he knows of my feelings and wishes to make his foolish son happy. please, do not feel the need to respond.”

then he promptly sits down, flushing down to his neck, and mianmian shares a disbelieving glance with lan wangji from across the horrible nightless city palace room.

she’d really only meant for him to suggest jiang yanli answer privately, at a later time, but wow, jin zixuan really went for it. also no way jin guangshan knows his son has fallen in love with jiang yanli, so nice save face there. maybe he has been paying attention in all of their etiquette and political espionage classes.

jiang yanli flushes way prettier than jin zixuan and nods politely, stands and bows and thanks the jin clan for being considerate in this time of turmoil, perhaps they can discuss this matter at a later date (jin zixuan looks like he nearly faints at this, and mianmian feels vindicated in all her forlorn ranting. overreacting her ass)

when everything has been settled, wen qing has been appointed the new sect leader of qishan wen with promises to return land to those who lost it and pay reparations to the hurt civilians, as well as have the yin iron destroyed for good. during the final ceremony where all the sects have tea and pledge to be loyal to one another (until the next great war, of course) mianmian leans close to lan wangji and sighs, “her ears look even lovelier with her hair tied back by her new sect leader hairpiece.”

lan wangji says “mn” because he’s a cut sleeve in love with wei wuxian and has nothing even closely resembling taste.

mianmian, on her own, decides to make them both happy. before the jin clan departs from nightless city, she goes up to wei wuxian and asks for a moment of his time. wei wuxian seems confused but follows and, once they’re alone, he says, “mianmian, are you about to get me into bed, because i must tell you that i am a respectable young cultivator and you’ll need to marry me before--”

mianmian gives him her best unimpressed look (she’s had much practice with it, thank you jin zixuan) and cuts him off with, “i like women.” 

wei wuxian’s eyes go wide. “but you and lan zhan--”

she cuts him off again before he can say something so stupid she has to stop talking to him to refrain from breaking all laws of propriety. “look,” she says, “you’re friends with wen qing. now that she’s sect leader, your brother can’t go after her. i, on the other hand, very much can. if you promise to figure out a way for me and her to get close, i’ll tell you a secret you’ll like very much.”

wei wuxian seems hesitant for all of half a second before he breaks. “tell me.”

“do you promise?”

wei wuxian raises three fingers. “promise.”

“on your sister’s life?”

begrudgingly, wei wuxian nods.

“on her soup?”

“just get on with it!”

mianmian smirks, pushes onto her tiptoes, and whispers the secret into wei wuxian’s ear. with that, she returns to the pavilion where all the sects mingle as they wait to depart, wei wuxian trailing behind her in a daze, his mouth hanging open.

lan wangji, who had been watching since mianmian asked wei wuxian for a moment to talk, frowns nearly imperceptibly. mianmian grins at him and his frown grows.

ah, whatever. she walks over to him, unbothered by the quickly growing alarm in his eyes. once next to him, she turns around to see wei wuxian staring unabashedly. her smile only widens.

“you’re going to thank me for this,” she says.

wei wuxian shakes himself, his eyes focusing, and immediately starts walking towards them.

lan wangji, voice flat but wavering, asks, “luo-guniang, what did you do?”

mianmian laughs, says, “i get to give a speech at your wedding,” and walks away just as wei wuxian reaches them.

(she does, actually, give a speech at their wedding. she may or may not be drunk during it, jin zixuan gets embarrassed for her, and she starts tearing up and has to hide it in the shoulder of her wife’s lovely well-tailored robes. it’s alright, though, wen qing doesn’t mind)

EDIT: now on AO3 with a real fic version from lwj’s pov!

#the untamed #lan wangji #luo qingyang #jin zixuan #wangxian #wei wuxian #wen qing #fix it au #ramble fic #sort of fic #my writing #i don't know how to tag for a new fandom ugh #i genuinely considered not posting this #and trying to write a real fic for it #but i like how this turned out and i figure #i can always write the real fic later #hope this isn't too horribly ooc idk i'm still working on characterization #also i guess this is a mild au where mianmian is a lesbian but idc #we stan wlw mlm solidarity in this house #and lesbians choosing unattainable men to 'have crushes' on #basically we stan mianmian

[theroomofreq]

can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D

HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.

Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')

I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx

properly improper by @lizardcookie

“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”

- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION

Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.

- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily

Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames

The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.

James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.

- giddy just thinking about this gem

'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish

It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.

- cries in respect for lyrical writing

Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw

Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)

- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS

a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames

James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.

His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with

- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")

about time by @jilyss

'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'

- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor

whiskey business by @elanev91

Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.

- hysterical! must read!

Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw

James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.

- classic hijinks that I live for

it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91

Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry

- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart

spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i

tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.

needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.

- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.

Waffle Wars by @elanev91

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger

Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.

- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever

out the window by @displayheartcode

A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.

- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free

The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine

An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…

- petunia pov that gives me WINGS

Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.

- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM

if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove

Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)

- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?

Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it

How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei

“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)

The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.

- complete sucker for this one

All This Time by @thejilyship

James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.

- one of my favvvv tropes

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.

- cries in princess diares AU

The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites

Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.

- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.

Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl

This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.  He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.  She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.

- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv

Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE

The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger

“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.

You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.

Right?

- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER

#ror reqs #jily fic #mugge fic recs #jily fic rec list

[simsadventures]

Panopticon: Chapter 27: War Path

Alpha Steve x Omega Reader

Summary: Steve is livid and tries to find you but somebody keeps putting obstacles in his way. You, on the other hand, get to meet the devils and learn some harsh truths.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, angst, abduction, slight mentions of torture, life in captivity, lying, swearing, mentions of violence against women, shitty people in general, loads of feels, I would hope, mentions of suicide, mentions of death

Word Count: 3800

A/N: Du dun… Who is ready for some angst? Many of you weren’t happy that we’re taking this route, but it needed to happen because the world is full of assholes who try to make people unhappy. Anyway, so excited about this one, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what you thought. Love you all!! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 

< Previous Chapter 

“That won’t help to find my Omega, so no!” Steve yelled across the whole room, and even the experienced Alpha fighters gathered in the room couldn’t help but shudder at Steve’s authoritative voice. They were trying to help, coming up with new ideas to try and bring the Circle down, or at least make somebody from the inside communicate with them to tell Steve and his team the location of his Omega. But no idea was good enough for Steve. 

It had been four days. Four days without his precious Omega, and Steve felt like he was slowly losing his mind. He desperately needed you next to him, just to feel your warm, soft skin pressed against his, or to see the light in your eyes whenever you looked at him. But he had nothing. 

He often saw broken Alphas after all that went down on Earth a few years ago, and while he couldn’t really imagine what they must have been feeling at that time, walking like dead men, some of them on the brink of death because they just couldn’t handle their lives without their loved ones, Steve understood it all now. 

He knew he had to concentrate because he felt you in his veins, felt that you were alright considering the circumstances and, most importantly, that you were still alive. That was the sole reason why he didn’t end it yet. But he was hanging on a thread because each day and night he had to spend without you, his mind was going just a little more insane. He was hearing your voice and this morning, he even saw you standing by the bed. He was elated, but when he blinked a few more times, he realised that it was his brain playing tricks on him and that none of what had happened was just a nightmare. 

Moreover, he had to orchestrate a funeral for Peter and Gamora. The sadness over their loss was embedded deep in Steve’s soul, and he knew he would never get over it, even if he got you back. When he got you back, he scolded himself every time he thought of it, but it was to no avail. The desperation and pain seeped deep into his bones, and the once positive Alpha, who used to be full of life was just a walking shell of numbness. 

Sam and Bucky tried to pick up the mood in the room now and then, but they knew all too well that there was nothing they could say or do to make the situation better. The only thing Steve really needed was to get you back, and they empathised with him. Moments after the realisation hit them that you were indeed gone, they rushed to their own huts to check on their own mates. Their bonds felt fine, but the fucked-up situation got into their heads, and they needed to see their loves for themselves. Both Meera and Tina were sitting comfortably in their houses, unaware of the terror going on just mere meters away from them. They all spent the afternoon scenting and crying, their hearts clenching for their friend who was lost in his thoughts and his pain. 

But Steve tried to come up with a solution. He knew Rumlow would take you somewhere far, but not far enough not to brag about it. The circle was almost a day drive so Steve would have bet Rumlow’s hiding place was somewhere between his own house and the hell house they called the Omega haven. But that was still too much land to cover just by foot or by car, since there were so many abandoned houses and warehouses, not even talking about all the hidden places deep in the forests. So, just going somewhere blindly was not an option. 

Then, he thought of using what was left of the functioning camera system between the city and his lands, trying to see if he could pinpoint at least the direction where Rumlow and his team went. But he came up with nothing since most of the cameras had been destroyed soon after the war had started. 

Steve even thought of taking some military dogs and making them sniff your clothes to find you, but that would mean hundreds of kilometres to search, and that was just impossible. Every single thing Steve came up with was a nonsense, and the longer he couldn’t figure out how to find you, the more desperate and angry he had become. His people knew it was nothing personal, but his yelling and blaming was sometimes too difficult to bear for any of them. Steve knew he was being a dick, and he apologised every time his nerves got the better of him, but it was like he couldn’t do anything about it. 

It was when Bucky spoke up with a guilty look that Steve finally got a good idea from somebody. Not that he particularly liked it, but it was something useful at last, and Steve was actually quite angry with himself for not thinking of it sooner. The idea was to call Peggy because she was always able to find Rumlow a little easier than the rest of the world. How that worked exactly Steve never asked, because Peggy was one of those who kept their work pretty shut, and she wouldn’t brag or even talk about it, so Steve had barely any idea of what Peggy really did. There used to be times when he minded when it drove him up the wall, but not anymore. He didn’t care how she did it, the only thing Steve needed was to get you back. 

He called her almost immediately, listening to her smooth voice as she assured him that she would devote a majority of her time to help him because, after all, she still cared for him very much. Steve thanked her from the bottom of his heart and resolved to wait for her to come back to him since there was literally nothing else to do for him but to wallow in his pain. 

Surprisingly, it only took a few hours for Peggy to reach out and tell Steve that she might have found him. His heart started beating like crazy as if feeling that he might be getting you in his arms sooner than he expected. Peggy told him that she got the memo that Rumlow was hiding in an old warehouse south of the manor, around 70 kms away, and Steve just growled, knowing he was kind of right in his assumptions. He quickly gathered his team, not really speaking much, but they all understood. This was a life or death mission because most of the team was sure Steve wouldn’t survive that if they didn’t find you. 

Steve pretty much jumped out of a moving car when they neared the building, and he got to work immediately, going into the commander mode, assigning roles and talking strategy for when they would come in contact with Rumlow’s team. Everything was meticulously planned, and Steve had a good feeling about that. The only issue was that he couldn’t smell you. But he simply thought that he was still far enough to be able to do that and that they were probably keeping you in some shutoff room.

The closer to the building they got, however, the weirder the whole situation felt. No men were standing outside on the lookout, there were no specific smells to tell the team that there were indeed people hiding inside, and when they finally got in, they found the place completely empty. 

They rummaged through all the rooms, even in the basement and on the roof, but the only thing they got was some cloth lightly smelling like Rumlow, but not enough to tell them how long ago he was at the warehouse. Steve screamed in frustration because there was no sign of you, not even a hint of your smell that he so helplessly craved. 

Bucky and Sam shared distressed looks before they each grabbed Steve from one side and brought him back to the car, hollering at the whole team that the mission was over and that they needed to come back home. Steve didn’t speak the entire ride back, just staring out of the window, thinking of all the times you two would take such rides to and from the city, always discussing new books or just sharing stories from your youths. Steve now found that he took these moments for granted. He enjoyed them, sure, but not enough. There was the nagging voice telling him that he should have done more, that he ought to have taken you with him to that fucking meeting, and none of this would have happened. 

“Stop it, punk. None of this is your fault so stop with the self-blaming and call Peggy to tell you what the fuck happened that her tip wasn’t true,” Bucky interjected Steve’s thoughts, and as many times before, Steve wondered whether Bucky could just read him like an open book or if he had a direct link to his brain. Steve shook his head and dialled the number. 

“So, happily ever after?” Peggy said smugly, and if she stood anywhere near Steve, he swore he would have hit her. 

“Nothing and nobody’s fucking happy, Peggy. Nobody was there except for some piece of cloth that was supposed to smell like Rumlow. Who the fuck gave you this tip? I need to find my Omega, and I don’t have the time to drive around the city and march into every single abandoned building just because you have a hunch. I need real information, Peggy, and if you can’t give that to me, then you’re just wasting my time,” Steve said more tiredly than anything else, but Peggy’s face contorted in annoyance on the other end of the line. 

“I never waste your time, Stevie, you remember that. Look, I thought the info was top-notch, but I’ll keep looking. How about I come to your place, and we can think of a plan together?” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever, it definitely can’t harm us. I’ll be expecting you,” Steve sighed and hung up, nodding at Sam who was watching him through the rearview mirror. 

“Peggy said she’d come and help from the mansion. I mean, I’d rather have the whole fucking team together looking for Y/N, but I can’t fly everyone here from god-knows-where, so anyone who wants to join in is welcomed.” 

Sam nodded but didn’t like it one bit. He understood that Steve was desperate, but Peggy was and had always been bad news, and Sam had a hard time trusting her even back in the days when they had to fight side to side. All the secrecy surrounding her just stank, and Sam was sure he’d keep an eye on her, just in case. He wanted everything to go over smoothly for Steve, and nobody needed a sneaky bitch who would throw them under a train the second she got a better deal from the opposing side. 

You let your hand slide on the ground underneath you. It was rough with what felt like small rocks that were cutting you in the palm. You were seated, and your whole body hurt since you have been in this position for hours. Nobody talked to you since they killed your friends and abducted you. They just blindfolded you and tied you up, changing positions every few hours probably to disorient you since you doubted anybody really cared how comfortable you were. All you could do was rely on your senses and learn as much about your surroundings as you could. You weren’t even sure why you cared, but your brain couldn’t take thinking about anything related to Steve, so you busied it by making sure you knew everything you could. 

You learned that there were three places they would keep you in. You presumed that they were all in one room, but they changed whether you were sitting or lying down. You weren’t even sure what time it was and slept when they put you laid you down. Nobody ever touched you inappropriately, and that’s how you assumed not one of those people was Rumlow. 

The first place they would let you sit in was in an old crinkly chair made of rough wood as you had a few splinters from rubbing your hands against the arm-holders. It had four metal legs, and from the sounds, it made every time you shifted, you thought it was a rather old and overused piece of furniture. 

The second place was where you were sitting now. It was by the wall, which was cold and smelt of moss, and you even though you sensed death a few times, you knew that was just your exhausted brain playing games with you. The ground was full of rocks and shards of glass, so it was your least favourite place to be of the three. The ground was colder than all the other areas, and every time they made you stand up, there was a wet patch where your ass touched the ground as the coldness accumulated against your hot body, making you wish you could just change. But your abductees would never answer to your pleas, so after what you assumed were a few days, you just gave up asking them altogether. 

The third place was a makeshift bed, created out of a few pieces of wood pushed together and an old and smelly mattress. You tried to ignore all that the smell evoked in you, but you sometimes choked on your own saliva as you shifted and changed position, getting another whiff of what smelt like a hundred of butts and sweat. But it was a mattress, and you could get a few hours of sleep, so you couldn’t dwell on the details. 

When you found out everything there was with your surroundings you tried to pay attention to your abductors. And while you couldn’t say precisely how many there were, you had a pretty good idea. As you were an Omega, blindfolded and cuffed, they always came alone, and you recognised each of the people by their steps. There were four of them, each of them having differences in their weight, the length of their steps and the carefulness with which they handled you. That’s how you came up with the number of four. 

Number two was by far your favourite. They (you assumed it was a he but you couldn’t be sure) would always leave you alone even when you needed to use the bathroom. You knew they were in the room, but they had the decency to at least not physically touch you, and, in your mind, you created this picture that the person even turned around to leave you to do your business. They would also give you the biggest amount of water, seeing how you were parched because number four was a complete asshole and would always allow only a gulp before he drastically took the cup away from your mouth. 

And that was your days, filled with diverting your brain from thinking about the graver questions, like where were you, would Steve ever find you, what did they want from you, etc. Every time any of those popped up in your head, you choked up, and had to start touching your surroundings or else you’d have gone insane by now. 

It was when number three was supposed to come and let you sleep that you heard it. It was faint, but your ears perked up at anything that wasn’t your own breath or the sound of boots of your abductors hitting the ground. And this was neither. These were human voices talking about something behind the door. Your heart-rate picked up immediately because, while you hated the routine of four guards and three positions, you also knew that routine was good. Anything that was out of the routine could possibly mean death to you, and you tried to do anything to avoid that. The voices grew nearer, and you shuddered involuntarily, bracing yourself. 

When the door opened, the cold air hit your face, and you hid it between your shoulder blades. 

“Well, well, well, here is the famous Omega the world is searching for. You look so pathetic, it’s actually quite funny,” you heard a female voice say, and your brows knitted together. You heard it before, you just couldn’t place the voice for the life of you. 

“Yeah, well, the sooner she stops pining for that pathetic excuse of an Alpha and becomes mine, she will look much better. I mean, not that anybody’s gonna see her since she is just an Omega pussy, but she is my Omega pussy, so,” the man trailed off, and you didn’t have to think to place this voice. This voice haunted your worst nightmares, so you were pretty familiar with it. 

Rumlow

“Whatever, Rumlow. All we need is to get rid of her mating mark, and we’ll be good. Steve called me and found the warehouse where I sent him empty, and I, as a devoted friend, told him I’d help him from the mansion so I’ll have easy access to him and I will divert him from here if need be. You just need to do what you must so that I can have him back,” the woman spat, and it was as if a light bulb switched on. God, you felt stupid for not suspecting she had her ugly fingers in this. Fucking Peggy who obviously wanted Steve back even when she visited him all those months ago. 

And while it was nice that Steve didn’t feel the same, this woman was clearly a maniac, and she wouldn’t stop at anything to get what she wanted. 

But, there was one more thing that caught your attention. They wanted to get rid of your mating mark, and the thought paralysed your whole body. There were only a few ways to do that to any mated couple, and none of them was humane or accepted by most people. You’ve heard of Omegas trying to sever their bonds as they didn’t like who chose them, and so they cut a clean line across their mark, but even then the bond couldn’t be severed completely. There was also the option of just biting an Omega hard enough where their mates’ mark was, and trying to beat mark with a mark. 

You also heard that true mates were inseparable, and while Bruce told you that you were true mates, you could never know for sure. The inseparableness of true mates could just as well be some old maid tales, it was one of the things your mother used to tell you, but you had no idea where the truth was. 

The only thing you did know was that however they wanted to do it, you would go through hell, both physically and mentally, and that there was a more than likely chance that you would die in the process. 

“You’re not afraid she’ll die on you?” Peggy asked more curious than concerned because, for her plan to work, your ties with Steve had to be cut. She would have preferred killing you since it was easier, quicker and with long-lasting results. But Rumlow had been obsessed with you ever since he lost the fight with Steve back at the Circle. When Peggy heard about it, she just scoffed and told him he was an idiot, because if he would have called her, she could have just snuck you out without anyone knowing and they wouldn’t have been in this mess. 

“I mean, there’s always the possibility, but I’m not letting her run around with his mark. I wouldn’t like pounding a pussy marked by somebody else. Besides, she’s stronger than she looks, isn’t it right, pussycat?” Rumlow asked, for the first time addressing you. But you knew better than to talk, so you just remained quiet, and from the low hum coming from his mouth, you assumed it was a good decision. 

“And what if that bullshit about true mates is real?” 

“Oh, please, not you too. Nothing like true mates exists, Peggy, I told you. Some just smell nicer to particular individuals than others, that’s it. I don’t even know why we’re losing time talking about this. Go and do whatever you want with Steve and his estate and I’ll just do what I want with this one,” Rumlow rumbled, and the next thing you heard was the clicking of high-heels against the hard floor, leaving you alone in the room with the devil. 

“Now, sweetheart, I think we should begin, hm?”

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t look good. Here, let me bring you to your bedroom so you can rest and the team and I will search for your mate in the meantime, hm?” Peggy suggested nicely, and Steve nodded, happy there was somebody who could possibly save you. But before she put her claws on his arm, Sam appeared out of nowhere and stopped her hand. She hissed like a cat and Sam gave her an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look. 

“I think it would be better if you stayed down here, Peggy, as you said, you are such a valuable asset to this team that I wouldn’t want to you to waste your time by going with Steve here. I will accompany him to his bedroom so that he can get some sleep, and, meanwhile, you can work with Bucky,” Sam smirked but didn’t wait for her response as he led Steve towards the staircase and up to his bedroom. There was no fucking way in hell Sam would let Peggy be with Steve alone. And since he shared his worries with Bucky, there were two of them looking out for their best friend, which left Peggy in a tough position. 

She watched Sam and Steve leave the room, and Bucky would laugh hadn’t it been such a delicate situation, because Peggy really looked like the Goddess of Revenge. That just further proved Sam’s theory about Peggy being fishy, to say the least, and Bucky was starting to question whether she didn’t have something to do with your disappearance. 

Peggy saw right through them, and she smirked to herself. If they wanted to play games with her, so be it. She would get Steve alone and inject the serum in him she had been making for so long, and they would finally live happily ever after. Just like they were supposed to. All she needed was to stay close to Steve for a couple of days, get him alone enough times, and he would be all hers. 

/ Next Chapter > 

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[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Train Ride | Aone Takanobu/Reader

Characters: Aone Takanobu, Reader, Moniwa Kaname, Futakuchi Kenji

Pairings: Aone Takanobu/Reader

Word Count: 2623

Warnings: Um, I don't think there are any, but do lmk if there are any

Summary: Aone had never been more thankful of the people who avoided him on the trains, especially when they gave him something as amazing as you.

A/N: This was literally meant to be a small idea I had and at some point I just said yeet and, well, here we are. Living our best lives I guess. I don't know, I just love Aone so much, he's such a cutie. I want to hold his hand and sit by him on the train, is that too much to ask??? As always, thank you to @pies-writes-and-more for assuring me I am good at writing. God knows where I'd be without you my love

----

Aone was used to people ignoring- no, avoiding him on the train. It didn’t matter what he did, where he looked, or how soft he tried to seem - it was always the same. He told himself that it was fine, even though it really wasn’t.

It had even gotten to the point that people would purposefully avoid sitting down in the seat where he’d sit; women and men alike would choose to stand even when there were two available seats next to him. Very few people knew about these worries of his, and those that did know would make sure to seat themselves next to him.

He’d expected today to be the same. Sit down on the train, try to come off as non threatening, then go to school. The universe had some other plans for him.

He stepped onto the train, immediately turning towards his seat and taking a long step before he froze. Normally, it would be empty (since everyone knew he sat there by now), but today, in his place sat you. Your head resting back against the window with your lips parted. A book loosely held in your hand, teetering on the edge of falling. The light through the window seemed like a halo around you - for a second, he was inclined to think you were an angel. Your eyes were closed, light snores, a sign you’d fallen asleep.

You truly looked at peace.

Aone didn’t move any closer to you, worried you wouldn’t want him sitting next to you. So he chose to stand, sighing internally as people moved out of his way, leaving a large circle around him.

You were wearing the Date Tech uniform, but he’d never seen you before, maybe you were just new? Or maybe you were a first year? He didn’t know - but he wanted to know.

For a second, he thought that you’d gotten on the train too early, that you wouldn’t show up again tomorrow. The thought was almost upsetting and he couldn’t figure out why.

To his surprise, you showed up the next day, and the day after that, and every day for two weeks. Every single time, you were asleep, or too engrossed in your book to notice him. When the third week came, you were sitting with the book in your lap, staring absentmindedly at the floor. The space to your right was open.

He tried not to pay any attention to it, acting as if you being fully conscious on the train ride was completely normal. Acting like you weren't staring at him (because why would you be?). Try his best to not meet your eyes every few seconds (because he definitely wasn't doing that).

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, and your eyes followed him wherever he went. It was almost unnerving- no, it was definitely unnerving. What did you want from him?

Well, that question was answered faster than he thought.

On the Monday of the fourth week, he stepped onto the train to find you standing in front of him. A soft glare on your face.

He glanced at the seat, and it was open, so why were you standing in front of him? And why were you glaring at him? And why weren't you moving? And- OH GOD! Why are you grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the seat? Why are you standing in front of him and pushing him down? And why-

You sit down next to him, the glare on your face practically gone as you smile and nod your head happily from one side to another. He just knows his cheeks are so red from you holding his hand but he can't glance down at you.

But then you're tapping his shoulder, so he has to look because, God, he doesn't want you to think he's rude.

In your hand is a melon pan (well, two, but the second one you are already happily munching on), you lift it up to him, gesturing for him to take it. And so he does. You seem satisfied for a second, before you pull out a carton of milk from your bag (once again, two), and pass him one.

He doesn't know how to react.

You seemed to have that effect on him; the mystical ability to leave him completely speechless more so than usual.

You take extra care in stabbing the straw through the film on top and sipping violently before you glanced up at him. "What?" You asked, acting far too innocent and none-the-wiser that he wanted to scream.

He shrugs.

You sigh, "L/N Y/N," you introduce yourself and his heart skips a beat because now he has a name to the face. “Don’t worry,” you say in between bites of your melon pan, “I already know your name.” That should worry him more than it does, but he was on the volleyball team. So he guessed it was okay.

Once again, you had that halo around you. So ethereal. God, just looking at you made him blush. Especially when you looked up at him with a slightly confused look in your eyes, tilting your head and raising a brow.

Of course, he looked away quickly - not that he wanted to.

It didn’t stop that day. You stood in front of the train doors every single day for three weeks (until you were sure he wouldn’t run off), and then you waited. Some days you were wide awake with food ready for him. Other days you were on the verge of falling asleep and had barely managed to pass him the food and drink before promptly falling asleep. The rest you were fast asleep, the bag of melon pan on your lap, his name written on the brown bag with a smiley face at the end.

When you were awake, you talked and talked like there was no stopping you. He found out so much. Like the fact you came to school early just because you could (though he didn’t understand that). You were in class 2C; you didn’t have a club, but you always wanted to join one (he almost suggested you become the volleyball club manager, but the words refused to leave his mouth); you loved melon pan, like, it was your own personal obsession; you learned how to bake just so you could make more melon pan. So much more. His knowledge on you was more than his own teammates. You’d walk him to class. He swore, if you had a tail, it would be wagging constantly.

Things only got worse for him the moment Futakuchi saw you walking together. Aone half-expected you to know he was, but then you looked up at him with expectant eyes and it brought him back to the moment of how you’d known his name before. So, if you didn’t know Futakuchi’s name, why did you know his?

He certainly didn’t feel like there was anything about him worth knowing, or worth remembering. But, for whatever reason, you knew things. You remembered them. Why?

After months of this routine, he decided to be confident and ask you.

“Do you want to study together after school?” You asked him before he could get any words out.

“Yes.” He said, not taking a second to question anything. He knew he had practice today, that didn't matter. You could just give him your address and then-

“Great!” You chirped. “I’ll wait for you.”

How could you be so effortlessly cheerful? He almost hated it.

He gave you a questioning look and you hummed, “well, partly because that way I can show you shortcuts google maps won’t show you, partly because I want to see you practice, and mostly because I want to spend more time with you.” There was the confidence that would be the death of him.

Seriously, he wished he could do that.

Instead, he nodded slowly, pretending like it wasn’t killing him that he couldn’t just hold you - because that would be weird.

When you showed up at practice, smiling up at him like he was your world, his teammates were quick to bombard him with questions. Not that he answered them. So they moved to you; once again, if you had a tail, it would have been wagging. You answered all of their questions with gleams in your eyes. You were so endearing this way, but he couldn’t help the spark of jealousy that danced in his stomach. Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, stopping the rain of questions and to give you a second to breathe. You seemed thankful, especially when you smiled up at him softly before moving towards a wall to rest and watch the practice.

Well, watch was a strong word for what you did.

You watched him play for - maybe - five minutes before you fell asleep. The moment your light snores floated into the air, everyone halted playing to look over at you. There you were in your normal position, hands folded in your lap, lips parted and head rested back against the wall. The only thing that was different was Aone’s jacket that you had draped over yourself.

God, you really were trying to kill him.

Somehow they all silently agreed to practice so much quieter than normal, and every time you stirred, they froze; God forbid you wake up.

Moniwa was amazed you could fall asleep so easily, but he wasn’t going to stop you. Things only got worse when your face scrunched up from whatever dream you were having and everyone had to take a second to recover from how adorable it was - one glare from Aone managed to stop them, for now.

Your obvious discomfort made Aone’s heart ache, but he had to practice, so he just silently watched you from across the court. He tried his best to land softer than normal. If he could make the entire world quiet for you in this moment, he would. He glared at Futakuchi when he spiked a ball and it landed slightly too loud.

After practice finishes, you barely stir awake, smiling up at him lazily. “God, that went by quick.” You say, stretching and yawning. Aone can’t help but smile - just a little - especially when you push yourself to stand up, almost fall over, and grab onto his arm for support.

He would have been perfectly fine with it had you let go of him afterwards. But you didn’t. In fact, you slipped your hand into his. All blood rushed to his face no matter how hard he tried to hide it; Futakuchi noticed it far too quickly, but he didn’t say anything through his little smirk, just turned away from the pair and whistled innocently to himself. Aone knew this wouldn’t be the last he heard of this - not that he minded.

The journey back to your home was relatively quiet - the most prominent noise was his own heartbeat in his ears. So loud and thundering that he was worried you could hear it. Maybe you could, especially when you decided to rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against him like a kitten.

Really, you were still a wonder to him. Your body seemed to work like an alarm clock. You could fall asleep just about anywhere, at any time, and still wake up exactly when you need to.

Right now was a good example of that. Just as his anxiety settled in that you were going to miss your stop, your eyes fluttered open and you stood up groggily.

He’d need to ask you one day how you managed to do that.

At this point, your word might as well have been gospel to him; he wasn’t stupid, he knew he probably had feelings for you, and that they were more than just how friends act around one another. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, to hold you close and never let you go. God knows you’d probably let him. But there were the parts that were worried about how you felt. Because he’d never seen how reacted with anyone other than him, he didn’t know how you were with your friends. At least he’d get to see a little more into your life when he gets to meet your family.

When you lead him up the steps to your home, he isn’t expecting the one bedroom apartment that you lead him into, but it isn’t a bad thing. “My parents are out of the country.” You say, and for the first time, you don’t elaborate. He isn’t going to push you to either. He’s happy with anything you have to say.

You lead him into the living room, asking him if he wants anything to eat or drink; clearing off the coffee table so they’d have somewhere to work. The silence that settled was comfortable - which surprised him, because he’d never had silence with you when you were awake. You filled his life up with so much noise that he loved it - maybe he’d go as far as to say he loved you.

Studying with you is nice, he can definitely see why you’re in a higher class. You help him with any questions he has, even if he can barely ask them to you.

He’s there watching you, wishing he had the words to explain to you how much more full you’d made his life. How much you’d changed everything around him.

Every night, he was silently thanking you for just existing near him; for sitting down in his seat; for noticing him, and bringing him to you; for pushing him just out of his shell enough to be able to call each other friends (even when his heart begged for more). He hoped for so many more moments like these, where he could bask in your glory, in everything to do with you. Even when he could never be yours, he still hope-

“I like you.” You cut off his train of thought so abruptly that he physically jumped. You stood in front of him, in front of his house (because you’d insisted on taking him home). Something flickered in your eyes and you looked away from him - for the first time in all of him knowing you, you were shy. Anxious. Worried. It was so obvious. “I know you probably don’t like me. And I know this is out of nowhere, but I have liked you since the first time I saw you.”

And with that, it was like two worlds collided. His heart was exploding with such overwhelming joy that he didn’t know how to react. So, he let his body react for him.

He wrapped you in a hug and pressed his head into the crook of your neck, ignoring the ache in his neck from leaning down. “I like you too…” his voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was so clear in your ears.

Somehow, you made his days even better than before. Whether you were standing waiting at the train doors with such bright smiles and love filled eyes, or when you leaned up and kissed his cheek in front of his teammates (he’d deal with the teasing from Futakuchi because nothing else mattered when you loved him).

Aone was used to people avoiding him on the train. He wasn’t used to the love you provided. But he’d never been more thankful for people avoiding him on the train, because maybe - just maybe - if they hadn't avoided him, you never would have pushed your way into his life. He’ll always be thankful for that train ride on that Monday morning, and every morning after then.

----

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[captnjacksparrow]

Hey, really liked your analysis of Hinata. I feel almost the same way about her. Even though generally I dislike female characters who are naturally meek, subservient and pointless with no character arc in any type of media, what made me absolutely hate her character was how she treated Neji. If Kishi wanted to show her arc being developed organically, instead of proposing to Naruto that removes her stuttering and gives her new found confidence (because girls only get confident when proposing to guys 🙄), Kishi could have shown her talking to Neji after he literally told his bitter story on the chuunin exam grounds in front of everyone. She is shown like she is sympathetic but didn't do anything about it. She didn't even talk to him after he was hospitalized. She knew exactly why he was the way he was, and yet she fights him as if it was his fault. She, an heir of the clan, could have asked her father to support Neji, she had some clout. But nope. In fact, it was Neji who apologizes to her in a way, he is the one who trains her and help create a new jutsu for her. What did she ever do for him exactly? And Neji didn't have to help her. She was in the best position to help and understand Neji but what did she do? A lot of fans like her character because she is reserved but kind and sympathetic. She is reserved but a coward. She was not kind towards Neji. He died for her when he didn't deserve to, he had dreams and goals that were much bigger than Hinata's entire existence. She couldn't even see her own cousin's pain and she claims to understand Naruto?? Really??

Even Kishi said she was a pitiful character who only watches from a distance. He deliberately made her that way, no goal, no backbone and no lines. And I think she sucks the most after Danzo.

WoooW!!!! Thanks for the ask, Anon.

[[Hinata and Sakura fans!!!! Please stay away and don't interact. I fucking tagged them properly]].

Even though generally I dislike female characters who are naturally meek, subservient and pointless with no character arc in any type of media, what made me absolutely hate her character was how she treated Neji.

We definitely share the same thoughts on this one, Anon.

I am really tired on most of the media for their poor treatment of female characters.

The last time I was amused by a female character was from 'Game of Thrones', I loved Cersei Lannister, who is an absolute biashhh and Sansa Stark, started out as an annoying rose tinted princess but ended up winning everyone's heart. Both are non-combative, soft spoken and somewhat powerless women in a world dominated by men. But they just didn't let the inconveniences stop them and instead they learned how to fuck that world back and take control. Both are similar and yet very different.

After seeing, such well-developed characters..... For me girls in Naruto series, is blehhhhh..... Nothing to get inspired from them. And I knew it by episode 3 itself. I have no idea how can girls, in real life, treat Sakura as some feminist icon, which makes my skin crawl for number of reasons. If you point her mistakes out in any discussions, they will pull the misogynist card to your face. When in reality, I am also a girl and my world views are entirely different from Sakura or Hinata. There is no way a 12 year old girl would want to look at the Duck of another boy.

And the problem is, They form the majority, I mean people who can connect with Sakura or Hinata. So, as long as girls like them exists, we really should suffer from these crap portrayal I guess.

That's why I advise people that If you want to see a good woman character, Narutoverse is not the place.

Having said that, I find Temari, Konan, Tsunade were better (I mean inside the Narutoverse). Though their motivations or reason to achieve a goal revolve around their men, I find their attitude relieving. Unlike Sakura or Hinata, they don't wet themselves on the sight of the men they love.

What irritates me was, Kishimoto could've easily put a character like Temari or TenTen or Tsunade into Team 7. It would've made my viewing experience a lot better. If he doesn't want the strong girls to take over the attention from his boys, then he should've introduced a meek character like Rin Nohara. She is silent and cute but atleast she was willing to die for the Village and never wetted herself over Kakashi, though she loved him. And she treated Obito like her best friend. But he deliberately made Sakura hateful and he never stopped.

Sakura and Hinata were the lowest of the low, compared to any other side characters. And, in the end, they got the main Character's Ducks without actively doing anything. For me this tells me three things

He was using these girls as a shield to close the hetero normative mouths while in reality hiding those boys true feelings under that shield.

He really hated these kind of girls and constantly showing his hatred on them at every given chance and never redeemed them back. 

He knew the target audience’ mindset and he simply caters them by giving them what they need and at the same time writing the important arcs according to his wish.

I think, it’s the combination of all three. 

Just to give you an example.

There is this delusional SS shipper Who justifies Sasuke was acting Tsundere throughout the war arc. I mean, come on!!!! 

I came across this post because, the Original Poster was an idiot who comes into the anti SS tag and reblogged my content and saying I was wrong... So, I don’t mind sharing that person’s content.

So I don’t know where this delusion comes from... It's truly pathetic.

There are millions of idiots who believe in this kind of shit and Kishi is deliberately feeding them with bits and crumbs while making his boys go out and save the world.

These delusional mindset tells us they don’t give a single shit about the story as a whole. They watch it purely for the pretty faces and getting high over them. In this case, Sasuke.

It’s as clear as day that Sasuke didn’t care about anyone other than Naruto when fighting the war. You don’t have to be a shipper but even a non-shipper can point this out. I mean Sasuke wouldn’t have saved Jugo either, if he didn’t come to Sasuke and advice him. Do you think Sasuke would’ve tried to look for Jugo and saved him at all cost???? It’s just that he came to Sasuke and he helps him back. But Sasuke would’ve saved Naruto from the bomb blast even if he was standing a mile away.

So, if these delusions reflects the mindset of the majority of the women audience, then the creator will never try to give anything better but instead give us some low-life characters like Sakura and Hinata. 

So, Anon, your expectation for Hinata’s character could’ve been developed much better is just a wishful thinking. Because, Hinata is a character for these kind of people and not for us. And the author deliberately did it. 

She was in the best position to help and understand Neji but what did she do? A lot of fans like her character because she is reserved but kind and sympathetic. She is reserved but a coward. She was not kind towards Neji. He died for her when he didn't deserve to, he had dreams and goals that were much bigger than Hinata's entire existence. She couldn't even see her own cousin's pain and she claims to understand Naruto?? Really??

For me, this also irked me a lot. 

Hinata could’ve tried to talk to Neji about his problems even when he was a child. But she was simply playing innocent when in reality, she is just a coward. Even after the Chunin Exams, there was no apologies from her side, like you said. Because she is from the Main Branch. That hierarchy never changed. If she had the gall, she could’ve easily broken that hierarchy by saying, ‘I want Neji Nii-San to take over our Clan, He is the best candidate for this and I can gladly help him with all my efforts’.  A single line and just 2 or 3 panels, it all takes.

For me killing Neji is where Kishi asking us silently, 

Do you really want these pair to happen despite having a blood stain of another character??? 

Most people said, ‘Yes!!!’, because they don’t give two shits about Neji. As long as Hinata gets Naruto, the main character’s Duck, that’s all there is to it. It doesn’t matter who dies, who lives. 

That's why Kishi is shitting on them by making her as a non-existent woman in the Boruto Manga.

Even in real life, there are many hopeless foolish little girls who would do anything for the man she loves. I've seen them and I always stay 2 miles away from them. I mean, they even ditch their own friends and spends her entire time with him and when he dumps her later, she will come back to her friends for consolation. I think Sansa Stark is the best example for this. She started out much similar to Sakura and Hinata, believing in Princes and shit, she even naively betrayed her father for the man she had crush on. But the author made her to learn her lesson in a much painful way and later she came out as a Queen who no longer needed any man at the end. I think, this is called Development.

At the end of the day, Romance and Sex is all that matters. The author knew it. So, he is feeding these girls with some low quality cookies and they are very glad to take and eat it.

#ask #anti naruhina #anti hinata #anti sakura #anti sasusaku #anti nh #anti ss #naruto analysis #sasunaru #sasunarusasu #sns #antisasusaku #antiss #antisakura

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Truth or Dare by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 1 of 1

Read on AO3 or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbaby89

Summary: When David Nolan sends Emma Swan and Killian Jones on a simple overnight business trip to Denver, the two just want to take care of negotiations and return home. But the storm of the century has other plans as they embark on a night of discovery, learning more about their co-worker than either anticipated.

Notes: This fic really has no point, I've been in a weird place, my WIPs are going nowhere so I wrote this one for fun to shake the cobwebs, so I hope you enjoy this little smutty trip to Denver.

Truth or Dare

“So, I’m going to need to send someone to Denver tomorrow.” Everyone in the room groaned and Emma tried to sink down in her chair. She hoped by making herself smaller, David wouldn’t see her, wouldn’t select her to travel this weekend. It’s not like she had plans, except to maybe binge watch the next few episodes of Bridgerton before Season 2 started up.

“Emma, I really need you there.” She internally groaned but smiled at her boss.

“Of course, I’m all over it, you can count on me, Boss.” He nodded and then turned his head to the other side of the large table.

“Killian, your input might be of use here.”

Emma wanted to slide under the table. Why on earth would David send Killian with her?

“Sir?”

“I think it’s important for you to provide your marketing experience to the executives.”

“Of course.” He remarked and Emma rolled her eyes, she didn’t need Killian’s experience in anything, she could handle a simple business negotiation without him but who was she to argue with David Nolan?

Emma stood from the table and hurried back to her office to book her travel. The moment she closed her door it opened behind her.

“Do you fly United, love?”

Her eyes literally rolled back in her head before she turned around. She looked up to see Killian Jones standing in her doorway. “You already know that’s the preferred partner of Nolan Industries.”

“I can book the hotel if you book the flight, might be easier if we divide and conquer on such short notice.”

“Yeah whatever.” She said, barely looking in his direction as she sat down at her desk.

“Alright, well, just email me the flight information. Did you need a ride to the airport tomorrow?”

“I can get there myself.” She said shortly, hoping he would just leave but realizing he was still standing in her doorframe. She sighed and then looked up to meet his gaze. “I’ll just meet you there.”

He smiled hesitantly as he finally started to leave. “Sure, sounds good. See you tomorrow.”

Emma kept her eyes on the screen in front of her, the last thing she needed to think about was a whole weekend alone with Killian Jones.

It wasn’t that she hated him, he seemed nice enough, she just didn’t spend a lot of time getting to know the people in her office, choosing instead to spend her time alone in her apartment after work, curled up with a glass of wine and a good book.

Killian had started working for the company about two years ago and while every woman at the company tripped over themselves to get to know him, she had better things to do.

Now she was going to have to spend an entire weekend alone with him in Denver. Her only hope was that the negotiations would be simple, and she would be back in her hotel room before he got on her nerves or even worse, tried to get to know her better.

~*~

Killian stared out the window as the plane made it’s decent. He hadn’t expected David to pick him for this trip, yet here he was, landing in Denver to negotiate an important deal for the company. Things were finally looking up for him professionally.

He could see the blonde hair of his travel partner from the top of her seat. He wasn’t surprised to find that Emma had booked his seat three rows behind her instead of beside her. They weren’t exactly acquaintances, in fact, Killian had yet to really make an impact on the woman since joining the company two years ago.

Not for lack of trying on his part, yet she seemed disinterested in talking to him beyond the occasional “how was your weekend” question as they passed each other in the hallway. Normally it didn’t take much for a woman to show interest in talking to him, generally he spent more time running from the women in his office than he did chasing one. This made Emma Swan intriguing, infuriating, and somewhat of an enigma to him.

They sat in silence on the cab ride to the hotel, large flakes of snow falling all around them outside the car.

“It’s the storm of the century.” The cab driver lamented. “Can’t say I’ve seen worse weather in all my time living here.”

“Wonderful.” Emma complained beside him.

“They’re saying the power is out all over town. I’ll be surprised if your hotel even has heat.”

“I’m sorry what?” Emma raised her voice and Killian reached out to still the woman beside him.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Swan.”

“How do you know; you are arriving at the same time as me?”

“Storm of the century.” He smirked, staring at her in annoyance, there was nothing he was going to say to put her at ease. And to his utter chagrin, when they arrived at the hotel he was quick to notice that the entrance was filled with candles, lighting the way to the front desk.

“So, it’s not fine then.” She remarked sarcastically as he held the door open for her.

It was going to be a bloody long weekend.

~*~

Emma looked around the lobby of the mostly dark hotel. Of course she would be traveling to Denver in the middle of a snowstorm. They had received a phone call letting them know that due to the weather, the meeting had been delayed until the morning, so now all she wanted to do was to get to her room, climb under the covers, forget about the entire trip, and go to bed early.

Killian approached her after talking to the desk clerk and she could already see from the look on his face, she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “Alright Swan, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

She stared at her traveling partner in disgust. “Why is there bad news?”

“Storm of the century.” He said matter-of-factly, a smirk on his face.

“Fine, good news first.”

“Due to the storm, the restaurant isn’t open tonight, however they are providing dinner to our rooms for free, and the bar is included in the room service.”

“Lovely, then what is the bad news?” She scowled.

“Well love, apparently there was some sort of mix up in the reservation and well…”

She stared at his face, the frown growing on her lips as he hesitated to share whatever horrid news he had. “Spit it out, Jones.”

“They only had one room and well due to the storm, they are booked solid.” He held up the key in front of her. “So…roommate?”

Emma groaned loudly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you love; I would not joke about such a thing.” He tried to smile but Emma could see he was just as anxious as she was about the situation they were in.

“Fine, we’ll share the room.” She stated begrudgingly, following him up the stairs toward their floor. She was happy that they only had to climb three flights instead of higher into the darkness.

By the time he pushed the door open on room 322, she wanted to just hop in the shower and forget the entire debacle, however the moment she saw the room her heart dropped.

“It’s only got one bed, Jones.” She growled.

“About that, Swan…did I forget to mention the bed situation?”

“Bed Situation? This is more than a bed situation; this is a nightmare.” She complained, dropping her bag on the floor.

“I’ll take the floor, no need to worry. Everything will work itself out.” He shrugged, setting his bag in the corner, and lighting a few of the candles the hotel had offered them.

Emma sighed. “Fine. But I have dibs on the shower first.”

“As you wish, I hope a grilled cheese is satisfactory for dinner? They didn’t have a lot of options.”

Emma exhaled harshly, at least dinner would be to her liking, but she didn’t want to tell Killian that. He was the one who screwed up the reservation after all. She knew she should have planned her own trip. “It will do.” She said shortly as she stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

~*~

Killian set the food out on the table, listening to the shower still running in the bathroom. The last thing he expected on this trip was to be sharing a room with Emma Swan, The Ice Princess of the Boardroom.

The bathroom door opened, and Emma stepped out in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, her wet hair was pulled up into a towel on top of her head. He had never seen her look so relaxed outside of the office.

“Dinner is served, though it seems a bit cold.” He shrugged. “I supposed I’ll shower now since it won’t affect the temperature of the food if I wait or not.”

He retreated to the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind him to step into the hot shower and wash away the stress of the trip. He knew it wouldn’t be long until all the hot water was gone.

To be honest, the trip wasn’t a total nightmare. It wasn’t that he minded traveling for Nolan Industries, he had been grateful to David Nolan for taking him on, glad that there were still people willing to put their trust in him after what had happened at Gold Enterprises.

But being stuck in this hotel room with Emma Swan in the middle of the storm of the century was going to take more than just grilled cheese and some blankets on the floor for the trip not to end in a nightmare. He heard a knock on the door and quickly dried off to dress for the night.

When he left the bathroom, he saw the bottle of rum sitting on the table as Emma sat chewing on her sandwich. “You ordered rum? Really?”

“Figured it would keep us warm without the heat.”

“You want to drink a bottle of rum? With no mixers?”

“Sorry Princess, they didn’t have anything else. No need to partake if you can’t handle it.” He groused.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t handle it.” She scoffed defiantly.

They sat through dinner in an uncomfortable silence, chewing their food while ignoring the tight quarters they were being forced to share. He reached for the bottle and poured two glasses. “What do you say? Wanna play a game, love?”

“Excuse me?”

“Fancy a drinking game…unless you have a better idea? Never have I ever?”

“What are you twelve years old?” She laughed, reaching out to take her glass from the table and looking around the room as if she were considering her options.

“Come now, lass, I’ll start…” He paused. “Never have I ever played a drinking game while sitting in the dark with a co-worker.” He quickly took a drink. He watched as she looked at him in confusion. When she didn’t drink he exhaled. “If you’ve done it, you have to drink, Swan.”

“I know how to play the game.” She said dryly, putting the glass to her lips as she swallowed the liquid, her face immediately puckering. “God that’s not even good rum.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers; it warms the blood.” Emma wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

“Fine, never have I ever gotten a tattoo.” She sat her glass on the table watching him suspiciously. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. “Seriously? Where?”

He lifted his sleeve, showing the ship’s anchor on his shoulder. “Got it when I turned 18.”

“An anchor?”

“Aye, my brother Liam, he was in the Navy when he passed.” Her face dropped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“No harm, lass.” He lowered his sleeve and thought about his next question, wanting to change the topic. “Never have I ever been in love.” After he took a drink, he was surprised when she didn’t. “Bullshit.” He scoffed.

“What? I haven’t.”

“It’s hardly a fair game if you aren’t going to be honest.”

“I am being honest; I’ve never been in love.” She stood up from the table and walked over to the bed. “This is a stupid game, let’s play something else.” She took another drink from her glass.

“Fine, truth or dare, love?”

She giggled loudly, “You’re kidding right? Do you play anything that’s not meant for high school students?” She sighed. “Fine, truth it is, but this is ridiculous.”

~*~

After the third question, Emma was starting to feel the alcohol spinning in her head. “Ok Jones, truth or dare?”

“Let’s shake things up, I’ll take a dare.”

“Oooh, brave.” She giggled and then thought about her options before coming up with something delicious. “Ok then, I dare you to go into the hall, knock on a door of your choosing, and flirt with whoever answers. Gender doesn’t matter.”

“That’s all you’ve got? Dare accepted.” He jumped up from his chair and peeked into the hallway, knocking on the door directly across the hall. The door slammed shut and she jumped up from the bed, peering through the peephole. She could hear his voice on the other side as an elderly woman opened the door.

“Good evening, gorgeous.”

“Can I help you, son?”

“With the storms brewing I thought I would check in on you, make sure that you are doing alright, love.”

“What are you playing at?” The woman asked with a cranky tone.

“I would hate a lovely lass such as yourself to find herself alone and without warmth on a night like tonight. Perhaps you are in need of some company, if you know what I mean?”

Emma put a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh that escaped, pushing away from the door when Killian returned to the room, his hair and shirt soaking wet. “What happened?”

“Can you believe it; she threw a glass of water on me. Apparently she was not in the need of any company.” He said exasperatedly. Emma couldn’t contain her laughter until he tore the shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. She swallowed hard as she stared at his naked torso, dark tendrils of hair covering his chest. She climbed back on the bed, dragging the pillow over her lap as she tried to hunker down into the mattress.

Killian plunked down into his chair and stared at her. “Your turn love.” He sighed, finishing his glass of rum, and pouring another round. He held the bottle up to her and she leaned forward, holding her glass up for him to fill. She knew she shouldn’t continue drinking but there was nothing else for the two of them to do anyway.

“I’m not ready for payback, so I’ll choose truth.” She shrugged.

“Have you ever cheated on a partner?”

“That was a waste of a question, never. I wouldn’t do that to someone I was with.” She took a sip of her drink and gestured for him to take his turn.

“Alright love, give me your best truth question.”

Emma bit her lip. “What happened to your brother?”

He seemed surprised by her question, taking a long sip of his drink. “Um…” He paused, almost hesitant to continue. “It was a training incident, his unit got cut off from the rest of the group and he made the call to save his team instead of returning to his family.”

Emma watched as he spoke with sincerity and sadness. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she had never seen Killian seem so genuine before. She almost felt guilty for the way she had been behaving toward him all day, none of this had been his fault, unless he was somehow responsible for the weather.

“He will always be a hero to me.” He lifted his glass and toasted toward the sky. Emma sat in silence, taking a sip of her drink in support. “Alright Swan, your turn.”

“I’ll stay with truth.” She smiled.

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s the most recent lie you’ve told?”

Emma stared at her feet, rocking back in the bed, she bit her lip as she contemplated her answer. “Fine, maybe I have been in love. Once.” She took another drink of her alcohol.

“Why lie about that, lass?”

“I don’t know, I guess being in love with Neal is a piece of my history that is more embarrassing to admit. I mean, he played me, he made me feel like a total idiot.”

“Honestly, I always thought Neal was kind of a douche.”

She cackled loudly. “He was a terrible person but an even worse lover.” She snorted as if she had just told her girlfriend a close secret.

“You alright there, love?” He asked as she buried her face in her pillow. She pulled the pillow away and stared at him.

“Who were you in love with?”

“Sorry?”

“You drank on that question, so who were you in love with?”

“I’m not the one who chose truth, love. That was your question, not mine.” He took another drink before getting up from the table and sitting on the floor. “Alright, bring it on, Swan. Dare.”

~*~

“Truth.”

“Hmm…” He pursed his lips and took another drink. “Best orgasm you’ve ever had?” His eyes never left her face as he watched her cheeks blush.

“Oh God no, no, no, can I change to dare instead?” She laughed, her face looking on in horror.

“I think that’s against the rules, but I’ll allow it.” He brushed his fingers against the stubble at his jaw. “Ok, Swan, I dare you to serenade me with your favorite song.”

“Oh God, I can’t sing…”

“Either you answer the question or give me your best Beyonce. Come on Swan, I believe in you.” He teased with a wink.

Emma took a long swig of her drink and stood up on the bed. “Oh God I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She covered her face with her hands and Killian couldn’t help but recognize how beautiful the woman truly was.

And then she sang, in the loudest voice she could muster, so loud that he half expected the grumpy old woman across the hall to come banging on their door.

“Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand, strike up the band

And make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me”

She held her arms out as she finished her last note and then collapsed on the bed, burying her face in the sheets. “Oh my God I can’t believe I just did that.”

He clapped loudly, holding his drink up toward her. “Well done, Swan. Truly remarkable, loud, but remarkable.”

~*~

After a couple of hours, Emma was starting to feel like she was getting a better understanding of Killian Jones. With each question he shared more of his personality, something that was starting to intrigue her. But…she felt like he was holding something back. She thought about her next question, asking before he finished his glass.

“Why did you leave Gold Enterprises?” She immediately saw the way he flinched at the question. She expected it honestly, the details surrounding Killian’s previous employer was shrouded in mystery. David had only shared that Gold Enterprises loss was Nolan Industries gain.

“Bloody hell, a little bit of alcohol and you go right for the jugular.”

“Are you choosing dare instead?” She asked with a tight smile.

“Fair is fair…” He sucked in a deep breath. “I guess the truth is I wasn’t really given a choice to stay.”

“So, you were fired?” She asked, confirming her earlier suspicion.

“Aye, but to be fair, it was a fate I deserved.”

“Stealing from the company?” She joked.

“You’re not far off.” He said seriously and Emma’s mouth dropped open. She was not expecting that.

“Wait, seriously? You stole from the company and David still hired you?”

“Not from the company, love.” He poured another glass of rum. “I suppose you could say I stole from Mr. Gold.”

“You stole money from Robert Gold?” She asked, a complete feeling of shock overwhelming her.

“Not money, but something he treated with just as much disregard.” He responded sadly. “Robert’s wife, Milah Gold.”

“Oh my God, you had an affair with the boss’s wife?” She dropped the pillow into her lap.

“It’s not as nefarious as you might think. I didn’t seek out an affair, I never intended something so distasteful. You remember when you asked me who the woman was that I loved from our earlier question? Milah was that woman.” He said solemnly.

“I’m guessing you got caught, hence Gold firing you.”

“I wasn’t aware she was Robert’s wife. We met at an office party; it was love at first breath to be honest. We began seeing each other, I should have questioned her insistence on keeping things private, but I only saw what I wanted to see. I was just as surprised as Robert when he caught us in my office, suddenly I saw a completely different side of her. And of course, her husband would believe her word against mine.”

“That’s terrible. I can’t believe she lied to you both.”

“You live and learn. She is and always will be my biggest regret and my greatest weakness.” He took another long drink from his glass, setting the cup back on the table and locking eyes with her. “But damn the sex was good. Best sex of my life…” He winked. “So far.”

Emma buried her face in her hands and laughed. “Oh God. I’ll never have a story like that. I’ve never even had an orgasm during sex much less had the best sex of my life.”

“That my dear is a bloody shame.” He shook his head. “There is no excuse for any man who doesn’t desire being able to make his woman fall apart either by his hand…” He sat up in his seat, “On his tongue, or buried inside of her as she screams your name.” Emma’s cheeks warmed and unconsciously she felt the nervous snort build inside of her before it escaped her mouth, Killian’s brow rose in amusement.

“Those men only exist in porn, fanfiction, or wet dreams. Men are only interested in getting their cocks off.”

He grabbed his chest and exhaled loudly. “You wound a man, Swan.”

“Just being honest.” She shrugged. “At least in my experience.”

He passed her the bottle of rum. “Just who are you, Swan?”

She took the bottle and poured it into her empty glass, trying to ignore the stare of his piercing blue eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting her eyes again, something dark, yet honest swirling behind his pupils. “Perhaps, I would.”

She swallowed thickly, bringing the glass to her lips to have another sip of her liquid courage before passing the bottle back to him. She sat back on the bed again, trying not to settle her eyes in his lap. Wondering exactly what was behind those delicious sweatpants.

The silence sat thicky between them and Emma bit her lip. “Um it’s my turn…” She closed her eyes and breathed out. “Dare.”

She heard him chuckle before her lids opened, drawing up his body until she met his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Emma admonished herself for wondering what he tasted like. “Alright Swan…” He paused, swirling his glass in front of him. “I dare you to let me show you what a real orgasm is like.”

She laughed loudly before realizing that he was serious. “No way.”

“I can’t sit by knowing that my gender has failed you, I think it only fair to right that wrong.”

Emma thought maybe she had drunk too much rum and had obviously passed out. There was no way he was suggesting what she thought he had said. “That’s not happening…we’re not…no.” She laughed, more certain now that if she herself hadn’t had too much to drink, he certainly had.

“Are you refusing the dare?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Seriously? It’s not happening, you and I…never going to happen.”

“I’ve not proposed marriage, love. Are you that terrified of an orgasm?”

“I’m not afraid of…you’re crazy.” She couldn’t think straight, suddenly images of Killian Jones touching her were invading her thoughts, causing reactions she wasn’t prepared for. Was it suddenly hot in here? She fanned herself without thought, seeing the immediate amusement on his face.

“Are you quite sure it’s that crazy? Come now, we’ll make rules, Swan.”

“Rules? No…” She squeezed her legs together, covering herself with her pillows. “No, we’re not making…what kind of rules would we even…?” Oh God, was she considering this?

“You can stay fully dressed, not a stitch of clothing would need to be removed.”

“Yeah right, because that’s possible.” She snorted.

“I can assure you lass, it’s very attainable.” He said seriously, his eyes dark and dangerous. Was he real?

“How are you going to…you know, without even touching me?” Oh God she was talking about this like it was a normal thing. This was not normal, it was crazy.

“I’m quite talented, Swan.” He winked and Emma flushed.

Fuck, she really was considering this.

“So fully clothed…and no kissing.” She heard herself say, barely recognizing her own voice.

“On the mouth.” He smirked. “I think I can accept those terms.”

“You think you can…” She scoffed. “This is crazy.” She shook her head, pulling the pillow up to her face.

“Fully clothed, no kissing on the mouth, anything else?” His voice was deep, did he always sound like that? She thought about what he said, none of this was possible, he was going to touch her through her clothes, he couldn’t kiss her, there was no way she was going to get off that way. Even when she tried to do it herself, it took her a frustratingly long time to get where she needed to be.

“Besides not doing it all, no, there isn’t anything else. I think those rules have already set you up for failure.” She chuckled nervously.

“Then we have an accord.” He sat up in his chair. “Come here, love.”

She swallowed hard. “Over there?”

“Aye.” His eyes locked with hers as she stood from the bed and walked toward him, her legs shaking with each step. She stared down at him as he sat back in the chair. He took her hand and pulled it to his mouth, brushing his lips against her palm. Good Lord, just watching him touch her was enough to leave her shivering. “Sit.” He demanded as he put his hands on her hips and turned her away from him, pulling her down into his lap. “Relax love.” His hands wrapped around her waist, and she felt his breath against her neck, sending electric shockwaves down her back. Her jaw tensed the moment she felt his mouth skim her earlobe.

“Most men fail in this complex task because they don’t pay attention to the cues.” His tongue glided against her neck. “It’s not about what you say, it’s about how she reacts to your words.” Emma shivered as the tenor of his voice vibrated in her ear. “Do you want me to touch you, Emma?”

Her entire body reacted the moment he said her name, she was either lost in a sea of alcohol, or drowning in his voice, currently she didn’t know which but the wetness forming between her legs made it clear that either one was working for her. She bit her lip. “Come, love, use your words.” He teased as his hands slid between her legs. She sat back in his lap, immediately intrigued by the bulge protruding against her backside.

He paused his hands at her thigh, his mouth hot against her ear. “Emma…”

“Yes.” She moaned, feeling his smirk grow against her skin.

“Good girl.” He mewed and the moment the words brushed against her, she melted into his touch. She was putty in his hands, and he was only touching her through her clothes. She could suddenly imagine him doing so much more, thoughts that had her entire body on fire. One hand palmed her mound through her sweatpants while the other traveled up her body, resting under her breast.

She wanted his hands on her, anywhere, as he continued to breathe heavily against her ear. When she moved her hips she heard him groan, a sound so simple yet so full of wanton desire that she thought she might fall apart in that very moment.

His hand slid against her breast, her nipple pebbling against the thin material of her pajama top. His thumb slid against the erected nipple, his tongue languidly pressed against her neck, it was so much and yet not enough all at once.

The noise she made was soft, yet the squeak that came after was not. He chuckled against her. “That’s the sound I want to hear.” He growled. His hand pressed against her center, pulling her against the bulge in his pants, grinding her down against him as they both moaned with an irrational need she never knew existed.

It felt like his hands were everywhere, his fingers were hard at her puckered nipple, the friction from his hands against her crotch had her soaking with desire. She couldn’t believe she was so close to the edge, so ready to fall into oblivion. “Let go, Emma.” His whisper was dripping with sex, the very definition of dangerous. She leaned back against his chest, feeling him grind his hips into her backside as his mouth brushed against her jaw, his lips dangerously close to hers.

It was overwhelming, but everything she needed before his name fell from her lips and her body released against him, her breaths coming out hot and heavy, her head swirling in thoughts she couldn’t even admit to herself. She could feel him breathing against her neck, a feeling that reminded her of the fact that she was still sitting on his lap as she came down from her high.

She stood quickly, removing herself from his embrace, she retreated to the safety of her bed, terrified of meeting his gaze. When she looked up he was watching her, his eyes still lost in a haze, not completely focused. “That was um…quite surprising and yet satisfying.”

“Aye it was…” He let his words hang in the air, not finishing his thought, simply drifting off as he stared at her.

“We should order dessert.” She announced, suddenly feeling like it was vital to eat something before the alcohol threatened to remove all her inhibitions.

He remained serious for a moment, almost lost in thought before the corner of his mouth upturned. “Dessert sounds delightful.”

~*~

Killian’s tongue darted across his lips, wetting them as they threatened to dry completely. He watched Emma sitting on the bed, enjoying each scrumptious bite of her cheesecake. Each moan of satisfaction she exclaimed from the delicate treat threatened to send him into oblivion.

He wasn’t sure how he had survived her dare, how he managed not to slip his hands into her pants and slide between the heat of her wet folds. He knew it was bad form to break an accord but the moment he had her writhing and moaning in his lap he had almost forgotten his manners.

The alcohol wasn’t helping either. With dessert came another bottle of rum and Emma seemed eager to continue their previous game of Never Have I Ever. He couldn’t tell if she truly enjoyed the information she gleaned from the game or if it were an excuse not to have to go to bed with him in the room.

“Never have I ever ridden a motorcycle.” She said excitedly as she watched him tip his glass to his mouth and drink.

“I’m fairly certain you’ve set these questions up in order to ensure I end up drunk.” He mused. “You know damn well I ride that bike to work every day, I park next to that awful yellow vessel you captain.”

She grinned, her tongue slipping out of her mouth for a moment and suddenly he felt his pants growing tighter, the woman was driving him mad with that mouth of hers. “Never have I ever died my hair pink.” He smirked.

“That’s cheating, David mentioned that in last week’s meeting.”

“If your motorcycle question wasn’t cheating, neither is this. Now drink, love.”

She tilted the glass back, downing the rest of the liquid in her drink. “Time for truth, answer me this…”

“Are we just making up the rules now?” He laughed.

She sat up on her knees, her pillow in her lap. “Have you ever thought of doing that before?”

“Doing what?” He questioned.

“That, what we did earlier.” She said as her cheeks blushed red.

“Have I ever thought of bringing you to orgasm through your clothes, love?” He responded with a look of pleasure, enjoying the squirm of discomfort it brought her. She nodded uncomfortably. “Just helping a lass out, couldn’t stand to hear you’d never experienced that before.”

“So, you got no enjoyment out of it?”

“Ah, so you want to know if I…”

“Did you, you know…” She pressed on, not making eye contact with him.

“Got off, ejaculate, jizz in my collective pants…”

“Oh my God, stop.” She wheezed anxiously. “I’m just curious, you know if you…”

“Came to completion?” He smirked. “A gentleman never tells.”

“Oh, now you’re a gentleman.” She teased.

“I’m always a gentleman, love.” He stated emphatically, his eyes not leaving hers.

“So, you didn’t?” She asked with an almost pouting frown. “I just thought you might have with the sounds you were…”

“Trust me, if I had you would have known.” He looked down at his lap with a smile.

She bit her lip, sitting up on her knees and he thought that although he managed to hold off before he might just jizz in his pants now. “I dare you to show me…”

“I’m sorry, what? I just did truth, now we’re suddenly doing dare?” It was at this moment that he realized that Emma Swan was bloody perfect and was going to be the death of him before the end of the evening.

“That’s because you wouldn’t do it anyway.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“You intend me to show you what exactly?”

“You know…” She asked shyly, covering her face with her hands.

“Are you asking to see my dick, love? You seem to have trouble tonight using your words, Swan?” This evening was shaping up to be quite the surprise, but he was going to make her work for it.

“I want to see how you…you know, get off.”

“Bloody hell.” He swore, shifting immediately in his seat. “Who are you and what have you done with Emma Swan?”

She sat back on the bed and bit her lip. “You watched me get off, I’m just curious, because I kinda thought you did too but if you didn’t, then that’s really not fair is it?”

“Fair?” He scoffed. “Suddenly there’s fair in truth or dare?”

“You got to see me in that state, in order to lower the playing field, I think it’s only right.”

“Lower the playing field?”

“I mean we work together and now anytime I see you I’m going to know that you watched me…you know, and I think it might be better if at least I could say the same.”

“You kept your bloody clothes on, I’m hardly seeing how watching me…”

“I didn’t say I thought you’d actually do it.” She said sharply.

“Is that so?”

She nodded slowly and he stood defiantly, pulling his sweats down his hips, and pushing them to the floor in one sweep. His cock stood at attention against his stomach, begging to be touched.

Well, he had bloody done it now, he was either going to end up fired or lose his mind.

“Holy shit…” She whispered from the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He waited for her to scream or yell or say something even remotely angry, like threaten to take him to HR, but instead she simply wet her lips with her tongue and stared at his crotch.

Before he could stop himself, he settled back into his chair, grasping himself in hand as he gave himself a pump. His eyes closed for a moment and his head fell backwards. What the hell was he doing? He opened his eyes again, glancing toward the woman on the bed who seemed entranced with the way his hand moved. His arousal grew as he watched her squeeze her legs together, her fingers white as she gripped the sheets beside her. He could only imagine what her fingers could do to him.

He stroked himself in a fluid motion, keeping his eyes on the woman in the bed, wishing like hell he could touch her again, to have her touch him. He heard a noise from across the room, a moan he was sure she tried to stifle, and it only seemed to propel him further, increasing the speed of his hand.

“Fuck.” She whispered as he trailed the full length of his erect cock with his fist, pumping quickly as his eyes traveled her body, the thin material of her shirt barely concealing her erect nipples.

“See something you like?” He whispered breathlessly. Her eyes locked with his and the moment they did he felt his entire body tense as ropes of white streamed out across his stomach and chest, eliciting a loud groan. “Fuck, Emma…” His eyes squeezed shut as he fisted himself until his movements slowed, his hand dripping with the sticky substance as he tugged along his shaft waiting for his breathing to return to normal.

When he opened his eyes she was staring at him, blinking silently. “I’m uh, just gonna clean this up.” He stood quickly and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut behind him as he slid down the door toward the floor.

~*~

Emma stared at the closed door, hardly able to breath after what she just witnessed. Killian Jones had just jerked off in front of her. It was the most sobering and intense thing she had ever witnessed. She had been frozen to her spot in the bed, her body aching, the tension inside of her winding up again after her earlier release. She didn’t know how to describe what she had just watched. She couldn’t even believe he had gone through with her request, much less that she actually had the nerve to watch him do it.

It was the hottest thing she had ever seen. But now what?

They just go back to work and pretend they took a trip to Denver, completed their work, and returned home? How was she ever going to sit across from him at the meeting table again without seeing him sitting in that chair, his eyes glued to her body as he pumped himself to completion?

She was screwed.

The door opened and Emma jumped slightly. He walked over to the closet and pulled the extra pillow and blankets down from the shelf, arranging them on the floor across from the bed as if nothing had happened.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to bed.” He shrugged.

“On the floor? I mean, after all that tonight, I think we can manage to share a bed. We’re adults, right?”

“Emma, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

She snorted. “You just gave me the best orgasm of my life, but you don’t want to impose by sleeping next to me in this shitty ass hotel we got forced to share.”

He smirked, “Best orgasm of your life, eh?”

“Just get in the bed, Jones.” She demanded, pulling the covers down on the other side of the bed.

“As you wish.” He bowed before blowing out the candle and climbing onto the mattress. Emma laid on her back, staring up at the dark ceiling. She couldn’t turn off her brain, she had so many thoughts swirling around in there.

“Truth…” She said softly. “What were you thinking about?”

She heard his quiet chuckle before he spoke. “I was thinking about what would have happened if you had still been on my lap.”

She slapped his chest. “I’m serious.”

“So was I.” She felt him roll over onto his side, facing her. “Just imaging what it would have been like without those ridiculously intrusive sweatpants in the way.” Emma swallowed, almost choking on her own spit. “Emma.” He said in a whisper, the heat of his breath only inches from her face. “Truth or dare…”

She felt like she was holding her breath. “Dare…” She replied softly.

She felt his mouth against her neck. “I dare you to kiss me.”

She turned quickly, her lips seeking his in the dark, he met her with a fury as he buried his hand in her hair, a groan escaping his throat.

His tongue pressed against her lips, and she opened her mouth to give him access. His hand lay still on his hip, the other still tangled in her hair, she needed more.

“I Dare you…” She moaned. She felt him chuckle against her lips. “Please touch me…” It was almost a whine, full of desperation and want but it had the impact she was hoping for. He rolled her over onto her back, his mouth still attacking hers until she felt the skim of his teeth against her jaw as he worked his way to her neck.

Emma was positively humming in anticipation when his fingers skimmed her waist, slipping under her t-shirt until she felt flesh against her abdomen, sucking in a breath, she let out a moan she couldn’t suppress. She had never done anything like this before. The entire evening with Killian was out of the realm of “normal Emma Swan behavior”, and yet with Killian, she wanted this, she wanted him, she wanted to feel this insanely powerful freeing feeling that being with him gave her.

His fingers continued to travel upward until she felt them brush the underside of her breast, and she arched toward his hand, pressing herself against his palm. “So needy.” He groaned against her neck.

Needy didn’t describe her desire strongly enough, she wrapped a leg around the back of his thigh, pulling his body against hers as she grinded her hips into his. “Want more.” She said breathily.

“Patience, Swan. I’ll give you what you need.” He promised, his eyes suddenly meeting hers when his fingers finally found her nipple, kneading it against his thumb. The wanton moan escaping her throat loudly.

“Yes…” She sighed. “More.”

He smirked, tugging her shirt up her body and dipping his head to press his lips against her flesh, sucking her pert nipple into his mouth. She mewed softly, her fingertips lightly scraping his scalp as she tugged the dark strands of hair in her hand, pulling him against her body.

His other hand trailed down her body, her flesh on fire everywhere he touched, and the only thing that could stop the burn was more Killian. She felt his fingers playfully dipping under her waistband, the anticipation of his touch growing more desperate.

His fingers dipped between her folds, almost teasing as he slipped inside of her only to immediately withdraw. She groaned in frustration and felt his smirk, the hairs on his jaw scratching against her breast, his fingers plunging inside of her again. Her head was spinning as she arched off the bed. “God yes.”

“I want to hear you sing, my beautiful Swan.” She had no chance to react the moment she felt his breath against her core. Her fingers tightened in his hair, needing to feel him closer. She could feel the spring winding inside of her again, similar to earlier in the evening when he touched her through her sweats, only now it was divine, now he was driving inside of her, his wet tongue licking a stripe against her, her legs tensing as he continued to drive into her.

She could feel herself getting closer, his fingers weren’t enough, she needed more.

“I need to feel you inside me.” She moaned.

He paused his movement, glancing up to meet her eyes before he slid up her body. “Never have I ever wanted a woman so badly in my life.” The kiss was desperate and full of intention and Emma matched the intensity as his tongue invaded her mouth. She dug her feet against the back of his knees, grinding her body against his erection, her hands desperately tugging at the waistbands of his sweatpants.

“Then take these damn things off…” She whined, anxiously tugging at her own to pull them from her body. She hadn’t felt this desperate in years, an urgent need welling as the fire burned inside of her. The clothes flew around the room before they came together again, she could feel his erection at her side, hard and waiting. His mouth was hot on hers as he slid between her legs, and she felt the welcome intrusion press against her center.

“Wait, wait, wait…” She scrambled, pulling away from him. “When were you last with someone?”

He pressed his mouth to her cheek, “It’s been a while love, if you’re nervous about…”

“I haven’t been with someone for months, I mean I’m protected, I take the pill, I just…”

“I’m not usually impulsive, though the situation we are currently in may seem to say otherwise.” She pulled him against her, pressing her mouth to his. “Emma…”

“Dare…”

She felt his smirk against her mouth. “No more need for dare’s, love. Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise, that’s all I want you to have.” His lips ghosted against hers.

“I need…” She whined, her voice sounding foreign to her, begging for something she couldn’t put into words.

“I’ve got you.” He pressed against her entrance, and she felt him slide between her folds, the tip of his cock sliding inside of her before pulling away. She moaned in frustration before he slid in again, filling her, stretching her, and then leaving her empty once more. He was driving her to oblivion with each tentative thrust.

She nipped at his lip with her teeth, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, eliciting a groan from his mouth. His thrusts increased, his kiss becoming almost animalistic as his thrusts became harder, driving into her with each plunge. She could feel her walls tighten around him as she met him thrust for thrust as she arched against him, needing the friction the closeness gave to her.

She could feel it building inside of her again, teetering closer as Killian took her to the place she needed to be. “Let go…” His breath was hot against her ear as he drove into her, sending her over the edge as the string inside of her snapped.

“Killian…oh God…yes…” She screamed into the darkness as she heard her name against her ear over and over again in a beautiful whisper.

He rested his forehead against hers, as his breathing came out in shallow breathes. “That was….”

“An interesting development.” She laughed.

“Is interesting good or bad?” He asked as he rolled over onto his side.

“Honestly…”

“We’ve been playing truth’s all night, why would I want you to lie now?”

“I always found you to be kind of annoying.” She said shortly.

“Bloody hell, that’s not exactly…”

“But…” She teased, cutting him off. “Maybe I was just unable to see past your rugged good looks and boyish charm.”

“Swan, it’s bad form to attack a man simply because he’s devastatingly handsome, one might even say dashing, but I would hope that I have proven tonight that I’m no boy.” His lips grazed the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t stop the smile from growing on her face.

“I don’t know, I might need to see some more evidence.” As he pulled her onto his chest, she was sure that neither of them would be getting any sleep tonight.

~*~

Killian showered quickly when he heard the knock on the door. Breakfast was being served to all hotel guests, the power had returned shortly before they woke that morning. He wrapped the towel around his waist and entered the room. Emma smiled from the table, dressed only in one of his t-shirts. “Morning.” She grinned as he sat down across from her.

She pushed his plate toward him and then took a bite of her toast. “Someone’s chipper this morning.” He teased.

“It was all the orgasms.” She whispered seductively with a wink. Grabbing the bottle of rum, he watched as she poured a shot into his glass and slid it toward him. “Never have I ever had sex with the boss’s daughter.” He had no idea what she was talking about but stared at the glass. “Better drink up, you might need the courage to explain yourself when we get home.” She chuckled.

“I’ve never done that, love, I already told you, she was the boss’s wife.”

The phone rang and Killian caught a glimpse of David’s name on the screen before she answered. “Hello, Daddy…”

Shit.

#truth or dare #stacy's fics #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au #captain swan

[whatisthiswritingthing]

But you hate each other - Tierna Davidson x Reader

Prompt: I’m horrible at prompts but a baby T imagine where the reader and her are college rivals? or something along those lines. 

Not sure if this is what you wanted, hope I am close.

“Y/L/N and Davidson,” one the of the team managers called out the room assignments for the camp that all the players just arrived for.

Y/N and Tierna both slowly stood from their chairs in the boardroom, walking to the front to get their room keys.

The rest of the players sharing brief looks, knowing there was some animosity between the two players. They had played for years together at Stanford, always an under lying tension simmering. Y/N and Davidson got along, for the most part, but there was definitely some form of rivalry between them.

Neither of the soccer players said anything, each taking a key, continuing to the elevators to their room.

“Remember, bus in half hour for training!” Vlatko called after all the retreating players.

The elevator ride up was in silence, everyone unsure of what to say, sensing the tension.

 Half an hour later, the team was on the bus making their way to the first practice of camp. The roommates now separated, the tension gone.

The tension returned near the end of practice during scrimmage, Tierna at defense and Y/N at forward, the two regularly facing each other.  

The two battled the entire scrimmage, neither letting up.

“It’s practice Davidson, chill the fuck out,” Y/N said, getting up from another slide tackle from Tierna, frustration evident.

The defender just rolled her eyes, ignoring the forwards comments.

Everyone watched on as the two challenged each other for the scrimmage, waiting for the tension to become too much. Neither player pushing the other too far, just enough to frustrate the other.

After practice, everyone made their way back to the bus, todays practice had been relatively easy, meant to ease the players back in, tomorrow would be fitness testing however.

Y/N and Davidson had both been quickly swooped by other members of the team after returning to the hotel. Everyone having the same mindset, wanting to avoid any potential conflict between the two.

While the team knew there was some unspoken tension between the two, no one had been bolded enough to ask where the tension came from, surprisingly.

“Alright Baby T, what is the deal with you and Y/N?” Julie asked while they lounged in her room later that evening.

“What do you mean? Her and I good,” Tierna replied, confused, focused on her phone.

“What do you mean what do I mean?” Julie commented again, “the two of you look like we shouldn’t even trust you guys to room together.”

“Y/N and I are a little competitive together, that’s it,” Tierna commented again, shrugging her shoulders, smiling at her phone now.

“If you say so, you guys just looked ready to take each other out at practice this afternoon.”

Julie dropped the subject for now, knowing she would still keep an eye on the two younger players.

 “How long do you think they’ll go?” Sam whispered to Rose.

The team was doing the beep test, Y/N and Tierna were the last two running. Both exhausted, pushing themselves well past their limits.

As they each approached the line again, they glanced to each other, giving each other a small nod, they ran again.

Both had far surpassed the mandatory level, Dawn watched the players closely, debating how far to allow the players to push themselves.

Watching them go one more, both of them struggling to get full breaths. Dawn decided enough was enough and called them off.

“Alright thing one and thing two, that’s enough. I don’t know what competition you have going on but it’s done.”

The two stood next to each other, hands on their knees catching their breath. They both glanced to each other, sharing a small nod and smile.

“They smiled at each other, they can’t totally hate each other,” Rose whispered.

 Camp continued the same. Y/L/N and Davidson continue to battle each other at everything; getting on the bus first, finishing eating first, getting to the room first to shower, everything. Practices were brutal between the two, neither working to injure the other, but challenge the other.

Vlatko had kept them on the same team for scrimmage this practice. As much as the two seemed to have a strong distaste for each other, they worked incredibly well together. Connecting passes easily, reading where the other would be, meshing incredibly well.

Everyone was stunned watching the two, not expecting the two to play so well together. The two may have played together at Stanford, but watching the two play after seeing how much tension there seemed to be was nothing short of incredible. The two played together flawlessly. Y/N had even managed to help Tierna score during the scrimmage.

 “What the hell was that?” Julie questioned as soon as they sat on the bus.

“What was what?” Tierna questioned, not looking up from her phone.

“You really need to stop answering my questions with a question! And who are texting all the time?” Julie challenged, frustrated.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about JJ,” Tierna said calmly, glancing up from her phone, avoiding the second question.  

Julie just rolled her eyes.

“How the hell do you and Y/N go from looking ready to tear each other apart to playing like?”

“We played for four years together at Stanford, obviously we are good together,” Tierna shrugged, going back to her phone.

“You are impossible! The two of you ran each other into the ground during the beep test, now you’re sending her passes without even looking!” Julie countered, frustration mounting.

“Don’t know what to tell you,” she just shrugged, cutting off the conversation.

Julie flopped back in her seat, aggravated.

“What are you up to tonight? I think a few of us were thinking of watching a movie,” Julie tried to change the subject.

“I’m pretty tired, I’m just going to spend the night in my room,” Tierna replied.

“You and Y/N going to manage not to kill each other?”

“I’m sure we’ll manage.”

 Once at the hotel, everyone made their way to their own rooms.

“Seriously Dunny, it’s not right. How do they play four years together, but hate each other so much?” Julie ranted to Crystal in their room.

“I don’t know Jayje, maybe something happened while they played. You saw them today, they work well together, last week they broke the beep test record, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Nope I don’t like it!” Julie expressed, jumping off her bed and making her way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Dunn jumped up as well, following the blonde.

“To make them be friends!”

Julie stormed down the hallway to Y/L/N and Davidsons room, stopping briefly at the front desk for a copy of their room key. Bending the truth slightly to convince the person there to give her a copy.

“This ends now!” She explained, pushing the hotel door open.

Barging into the room, Julie stopped at the edge of the bed.

“You have got to be kidding me!” She exclaimed, when she saw the two women.

Y/N was laying on her back, looking confused having just been woken up. Tierna slowly pushed herself off Y/N’s chest, just waking up as well.

“What?” Y/N asked confused, voice gravely with sleep.

“You hate each other!”

“It would be really weird if I hated her,” Tierna sat up fully, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“That’s literally the opposite actually,” Y/N sat up as well, adding her own yawn.

“Wait, what?”

“Hate is the opposite of how I feel about Tierna,” Y/N smirked.

“Quit toying with her,” Tierna smacked Y/N on the chest. “We have been together since Junior year at Stanford.”

“Wait, what?” JJ repeated.

“We don’t hate each other, we having been dating for several years, she plays in Chicago, I play in Houston, we live together in the off season in California,” Y/N sits up fully, clearly explaining what’s going on.

“Wait, what?”

“What else is there to understand? We are competitive together, neither big fans of PDA, don’t know what else to tell you,” Tierna shrugged as well.

“Congrats?” Julie said hesitantly, still seemingly confused.

“You staying? Or can we go back to sleep?” Y/N asked, sliding back down to go back to sleep.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #tierna davidson x reader #tierna davidson imagine #tierna davidson imagines

[hawkland]

(Mostly) Destiel Fic Recs #5

This is a LONG recs post because it’s been a while since I did an update and I fell hard into reading one author’s work (DeanRH). In fact I could easily do a rec post just of their fics alone, but for this round I’m just going to pick out a handful of my absolute favorites so far, the ones I’d recommend to start out with, along with more other authors’ works I’ve especially enjoyed lately.

Absolution at the Five-and-Dime by DeanRH (125k)  - this is perhaps THEE DeanRH fic to start with if you want a good, long read with a little bit of everything (Roadtrips! Intriguing casefic! Americana! Tasty Dean/Cas pining! Wing!kink and unique angel lore! Kinky soul fisting and tentacles!) It’s kind of two of parallel stories in one: the first, a flashback to Dean and Sam's first year hunting on their own (as well as trying to avoid hunting, and John in general); the second on how Dean and Cas finally get together during an unusual case and when Dean is able to really let go of his past trauma and accept himself/accept love from Cas. 

What I love about DeanRH’s work is that they write from the unique point of view of a drifter, so they understand living on the road, traveling place to place, and the highs and lows of that life like no others I’ve encountered in SPN before. (The author’s notes are often as much fun to read as the stories themselves). They also write a kickass angel!Cas and never lose sight of his non-human traits and background. Their writing style is unique - almost poetic in nature, and I know some readers have found it difficult to get into. But it works really well for me in their SPN fic...gives it the flavor of oral story telling as might actually happen at a drifter’s camp (with one story written exactly as such). Be warned this particular fic does play up the idea of John Winchester being mentally abusive and Dean having to turn tricks when he was younger in order to support him and Sam, so there is some dark stuff. But as someone who grew up with mentally abusive parent, reading this was extremely cathartic to me and believably written (unlike some stories that go too over the top with abusive John, or just don't understand how that kind of abuse leaves lifetime psychological scars.)

The rest of this round’s recs below the cut.

Carnevale by DeanRH (18k) - Actually the first fic by this author I read, because I just couldn’t resist a story set in my favorite place in the world, Venice, Italy. Castiel is the Angel of Venice, banished there for so long he does not even know or remember the reasons why. But Carnevale season is the one time a year he can let his wings out - figuratively and literally. And during this particular Carnevale season, he meets an intriguing masked young American tourist there with his brother and their one night stand turns into something far more powerful than either expected. This one’s hot, romantic, and achingly sad at the end as it all ties together unexpectedly with canon-verse...though with a hint for the future so it’s definitely not totally sad. I loved how DeanRH clearly understands Venice as a fellow lover of the city, the side of it most tourists never see unless they spend a long time there. This story made me cry just from wanting to be back in Venice again.

Ice cream was sweeter, food more satisfying, everything was an epicurean delight. There was just something magical about Venice, and he had lived here in the city for hundreds of years, so the shine should have worn off by now.

But it didn't, and there was always something more, something wonderful to discover around the next corner. The painted eaves of a church. The beauty of two women dancing with flowers in their teeth across the Piazza San Marco one day, overcome by the sheer joy of just being there. The way the university students still created Venetian masks, like Castiel's extravagant volto mask and Dean's humble servetta muta, with crafts that had been handed down across the generations. The morning silence that lay against the stones.

Hard Landing by DeanRH (26.9k) - A bit similar in theme to Carnevale. A pre-series Dean and Sam are sight-seeing in Spain when an angel, struck by a babel-spell, crash lands right in front of Dean. A strange yet seriously hot encounter with the angel turns into something much more complicated when the brothers return home and realize something more serious is afoot and they are both trapped in the middle of it. This is another story where things are very much not as they seem at first (as fun as that is!) It features master strategist Cas at his best, with a side helping of delightful trickery care of Gabriel and Balthazar as they deal with Lucifer, Michael...and a few others along the way.

The Sacred Band of Thebes by DeanRH (14.5k) - The last DeanRH fic I’m gonna allow myself to include in this round up, because it’s just very soft and sweet and beautiful - for a story about Dean & Cas being magically transported back in time to ancient Sparta! This is another story infused with a great knowledge of place and history, with some wonderfully delightful original characters added in that make it all the more enjoyable to read.

And now on to some other authors, I promise!

IPAMIS OL OLPRIT by emmbrancsxx0 (56k). A really wonderful fic that take a different look at what might have happened with a temporarily resurrected John Winchester during Season 14. Dean & Cas are in an established relationship here, and John here isn’t too happy about it — though mostly because he sees Cas (and Jack) as monsters, the kind of monsters he spent his lifetime hunting. This is a great fic for the emotional complexity of how John, Dean and Cas are all handled. John isn’t a cardboard evil dad, Dean is struggling between his loyalty to his father and to Cas, and Cas is increasingly bitchy/frustrated at Dean still being so desperate for his father’s approval (and all the more complex for not just being a quietly suffering perfect supporting boyfriend.) There’s some great action sequences in this too along with the emotional angst and a delicious dose of hurt!Cas if that’s your thing (as it is for me :D)

Abrenuntio by Neonbat (51k). A very dark but compelling AU take on the/a apocalypse universe. Dean, Sam and John are all alive in this post-angel war-apocalyptic world. They are part of a group of human survivors fighting against the angel army when they manage to capture “Blue” — a particularly feared angel of death. Dean is tasked with bringing Blue in for interrogation and he becomes a prisoner in their camp after John is killed. As mentioned, this is a pretty dark/sad fic (with some rather gruesome torture scenes) but I still found it quite compelling as a look at how things could have gone in some other parallel universe. And somehow the author manages to make the Dean/Cas relationship come together despite them starting out as complete enemies. This is one of those AUs that works for me because the core of the characters really shine through despite the differences in the setting.

if it all fell to pieces tomorrow by spocklee (37k) - a gorgeous post-Empty rescue fic that takes an approach I haven’t really seen explored in detail before (despite being something I’ve actually thought about as something that could’ve happened.) What if Cas has spent so long denying himself happiness, and then trapped in regrets and false-rescue scenarios created by the Empty, that he can’t trust that his rescue is real? And so he runs off to be on his own - literally stealing the Impala because he can’t handle being in Dean’s presence one moment longer - and only slowly comes to terms with the idea that it’s over now and he can be happy with/around his friends and family. This one’s both deliciously angsty and at times funny/sweet, looking at Cas’s relationships not just with Dean but with Sam, Jack, Claire, even Eileen. It does some fun stuff with other returned angels and demons who now find themselves back on Earth (and human), and...I just really enjoyed this one a lot.

Both Saved and Lost by angelfishofthelord (13.7k) Gen Cas character study, absolutely gorgeous and sad and one of those fic I couldn’t stop thinking about the day after reading it. AU where Apocaverse!Cas isn’t immediately killed by our Cas during 13x22 but instead hitches a ride back to the main ‘verse. Dean and Sam want to keep him alive for information on Michael; Cas is torn and trying to figure out just how similar—or different—they really are. Some great angel stuff here (I also highly recommend this author’s Jack & Cas “dadstiel” fics, they’re equally lovely and heartbreaking at the same time.)

flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k) - THEE “What exactly did Dean eat in Purgatory, anyway?” fic you’ve probably already heard about. *cough* I’ve been trying to work up the courage to read this one for a while and finally gave in and OH MY CHUCK I’m so glad I did. It’s perversely disturbing and beautiful at the same time, Cas is wonderfully DERANGED and ALIEN in that way that I love it when fics managed to convey just how much angels are NOT human. Do heed the tags.

Full of Grace by ilovehowyouletmefall (11k) - Another one for the weird-as-fuck-angel!Cas lovers’ list. Heaven/canon-compliant fic where Dean knows he should feel happy and at peace but he just...isn’t, even with Cas and all of his friends and family there. He finally goes looking for Cas when he’s been absent for a time and, for the first time, gets to not just see but experience his true form. Another one that hits some kinks I knew I had and others I didn’t...until now. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

don't ask me where i've been by saltwound / @1x06 (8k) - I can never resist a good 09x06 fiction gap fic! What makes this one really stand out is how well it captures Cas’s internal voice - his struggles adapting to human senses, limitations and emotions versus what/how he experienced things as an angel. The longing and feelings between Dean & Cas here are so achingly beautiful and I just wanted to cry when Cas says he misses hearing Dean’s prayers, so Dean, he...oh, I’m not going to spoil it. *happy sigh* Just read it.

this room is wrong by DarkHeartInTheSky (12k) - Sometimes I like torturing myself with some good 15x03 divorce arc angst and this fic hit that button just so. It’s an alternative take on where Cas might have ended up after leaving the bunker and features some great Cas & Sam friendship feels, when Sam sets out to try to bring Cas home. It’s all the stuff you’d wish the writers would’ve let them talk out in canon.

Well that’s more than enough for this round! Go forth, read and give some great writers some kudos & comment love!

#fic recs #my fic recs #destiel recs #destiel #deancas recs #my destiel recs

[youalexturnermeon]

Warm Beer and Cold Women (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Again, Johnny Lawrence x Reader and again it’s gonna be multiple parts (ONLY IF YOU WANT ME TO) because I just can’t keep it short

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, swearing

Wordcount: 1589

“Look, (Y/N), your boyfriend’s back.”

You heard that sentence almost every day during your late shift. Everyday, for about a month now. Jenny, your college at the half empty bar never held herself back. Just like right at the moment when she said that with a grin as you two stood behind the counter and polished glasses to look busy.

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend!” You insisted on it every night as well.

“Your loss, he’s kinda hot”. And Jenny’s answer was also the same every time. This conversation always felt like a déjà-vu, except that it literally happened to you every damn night you had to work. You let out a deep sigh trying to focus on the empty glass in one of your hands and the dirty cloth in the other. Yet you couldn’t help yourself to take a peek at the man who just arrived and took his regular seat at the end of the bar counter. He came here every day and he never made a secret out of doing it just because of his favourite barkeeper – you. He was indeed hot; you thought every time. Although he probably was in his late 40s or maybe even early 50s and looked like he’d seen some shit in his life, he was damn attractive, he had a full head of blonde hair, the bluest eyes you have ever witnessed on a person and he was more athletic than most men your age. You caught yourself hungrily eyeing his toned body, muscles almost popping through the tight black shirt he was wearing.

“Hey gorgeous,” he called over to you when he noticed your glance. And the biggest and brightest smile appeared on his lips. “Hi, Johnny.” you greeted him back, trying to sound the most disinterested and lazily walked over to him.

“Who do I have to screw to get a beer around here?”

You rolled your eyes again, supressing a stupid grin. You almost allowed your brain to picture an image of you two in the men’s bathroom. You pulled yourself together and shook this indecent thought off.

“Most certainly not me.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

“But if you want me to,” you gestured with your thumb to the door, ‘staff’ written on it, behind you, “I can go fetch Kenny, he won’t say no to that. It’ll get you at least 2 free drinks, I think.”

Kenny was a big old biker, with long grey hair and a long grey beard, dressed in leather from head to toe, who owned the shabby bar you worked in. He also looked quite scary if one didn’t know him. Johnny’s smile twitched into a disgusted grimace. And you laughed from planting the thought of Johnny screwing Kenny inside his head. He didn’t like him very much.

“If you weren’t the hottest chick I have seen in my whole life, I would’ve called you a stupid bitch of a barkeeper and left you without any tip. But your pretty face and your great ass saves you all the time, huh?”

“Yes, Johnny,” you replied sarcastically “this has brought me very far in live, after all I’m a respectable barkeeper in not the shabbiest bar of Reseda but quite close to it, renting a luxury 1-bedroom apartment next to the most famous meth-head on the block for much more than it’s worth. Are you having the usual?” Johnny nodded, and you went off to get him his beer and whisky. Sometimes it was hard for you to be so mean to him, he was the only man on earth who showered you with complements all the time, not giving up flirting with you no matter what you said. But after all, he was still a local drunk hitting on a barkeeper. There was a lot of those, you had a few of them every night and Jenny even more. The only thing different about Johnny was that he was very good-looking and the most persistent of them all.

Jenny winked at you as you drew a beer from the tap system and poured the cheap brown liquid into a shot glass.

“How’s the love life going?”

“Fuck off, Jenny!”, you grunted and made your way back to the regular. You placed his order in front of him and stood still, arms crossed. To be fair, you didn’t have anything else to do, it was Tuesday night and only a few people sat in the dark corners of the bar getting drunk just by themselves. You might as well just let yourself entertain by the man who appreciated you.

“So, tell me,” Johnny started after he took the first sip of his beer, “How is live treating you, (Y/N), anything badass happened to you recently? You good?”

He always asked you how you were although you never really answered. You admired his endurance.

“Actually, quite the opposite?”

Johnny’s eyes widened a little and he stood his beer glass back on the counter. Surprised about a different answer today and curious for it being elaborated.

“What is it?”

You leaned over the counter and lured him closer to you with your finger, so close that his face was right in front of yours and your breath tickled him. He smelled quite nice, you reckoned, you did not expect that.

“The thing is,” you started whispering into his ear, him excitedly leaning even closer to you, happy over the slightest contact “there’s this creep who keeps coming into the bar. Almost every day, I think he’s a high-functioning alcoholic. And he just can’t leave me alone for once, always hitting on me, always talking to me. He might as well be stalking me and he’s like 20 years older than I am. Should I be afraid of him?”

Even though all you said was a lie since you didn’t think of Johnny as a creepy stalker anymore, rather a lonely guy, your words weren’t intended to be so hurtful. As soon as they left your lips you bit your tongue. Was that too much this time? But you wanted to get rid of him, did you?

“I heard he’s a quite good-looking bastard, tough.” Johnny retorted immediately without even flinching as if none of what you said struck him in the slightest. And that’s what you liked about him, he still wanted to woo you.

“And maybe if you’d give him a chance, you’d realize what a good fucking guy he is.”

You let out a hateful laugh. That would break your one and only work-rule.

“Nah, I don’t fuck with regulars.”

“Who said something about fucking?”

You bit your lip, no one did, it was your brain picturing you and Johnny again.

“You look damn hot doing that,” he said with a smirk and you promptly released your lip from your teeth.

“I’ll cook dinner, we watch a movie on my couch – “

“Thank you very much but I can have stale pasta at home by myself.“ you interrupted him, the corners of your mouth twitching. To be honest, you would like to have that, but you already were too far into acting like you hated everything he said and did and above all just him as a person.

“C’mon, (Y/N), when do you finally let met buy you a drink”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Johnny rolled his beautiful blue eyes, “You say that all the time”

“Because you ask me that all the damn time.”

“’Cause I like you.” “Seriously Johnny, fuck off, you’re boring me.”

“Why do you always have to be such a bitch to me?” he exclaimed and maybe you were imagining that but for the first time since for ever you could make frustration out in his tone. That was exactly what you wanted, right?

“Woah,” you held your hands up “Watch your filthy mouth. You’ll have to give me a big fucking tip tonight, Johnny or I really go fetch Kenny so he can kick your sorry ass out for good.”

“No, I’ll just screw him instead, then I’ll be fine” You snorted, that man was unbelievable. Johnny, clearly satisfied with himself and his joke smiled with triumph.

“See, I made you laugh”

“Yeah, whatever” you said waving. And in that moment the huge mountain of a man, Kenny, came out of his office and stared blankly into Johnny.

“You’re gonna do what!?”, his voice roared through the bar, and Johnny suddenly became all small in his seat. You burst out laughing and finally used that situation to remove yourself from that scene. After all, you had work to do, you couldn’t just spend all your hours with Johnny. Even if you liked to.

“Uh oh,” Jenny said mockingly when you leaned against the counter next to her with a big sigh, “Relationship troubles?”

You nodded with a grin and made yourself a shot of vodka ready. You threw your head back and poured it down your throat all at once, you groaned but it felt good.

“Wow, would it have killed you if you did that with that poor guy over there?” Jenny signed over to Johnny, now sitting all alone looking down his fourth beer.

You shrugged; you didn’t want to indulge him that much.

“C’mon, you clearly in love with him and you know that.” “I don’t!” “You do, you like him.” “I fucking don’t. Stop making shit up in your hollow head!”

But that was a lie. For you the sun shone out his ass, that’s how much you liked him.

**************************************************************************************

Would you guys like me to write a second or maybe a third part??? Pls let me know?

also, let me know if you want to be tagged in my one shots and stuff

PART 2

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence fluff #badass reader #billy zabka #william zabka #cobra kai #cobra kai one shot #cobra kai imagine #karate kid #karate kid imagine

[whentherewerebicycles]

wow okay i am skipping the lingerie party lol and am instead going to just briefly jot down some thoughts before i go to sleep and wake up at 5 for my flight tomorrow morning. jesus christ i have ONE MILLION thoughts and feelings about this weekend. i want to preface this by saying that on the whole, it was a fine social experience! it was nowhere near as awkward or painful as i was expecting. or like, parts of it were painful, but it was 100% to do with my own complicated feelings about literally every part of this tradition and the wedding industry in general lol, and not anything to do with the people themselves. the other women were friendly and very welcoming, i made an event best friend who was wonderful company, and it was really fun to get to spend time with both my sister-in-law and her older sister, who was so charming and wonderful. i’m glad i came even though thinking about the $$ i spent on this trip makes me physically gag.

but okay i want to just record some THOUGHTS that maybe i will continue unpacking with some distance. i feel likeeeee okay here are my thoughts.

the social norms around femininity are just a fucking minefield and i feel like i really just gotta keep walking back the impulse to judge other women for the choices they make as they navigate around the manifold traps and snares and half-buried landmines that constitute the landscape of being a woman. like jesus christ. it’s so fucked up, it’s so fucked up, the received and socially enforced norms of femininity are just so fucked up. I think ALL THE FUCKING TIME of this margaret atwood poem i love so much, which was REALLY on my mind this weekend:

How can I teach her some way of being human that won’t destroy her?

I would like to tell her, Love is enough, I would like to say, Find shelter in another skin.

I would like to say, Dance and be happy. Instead I will say in my crone’s voice, Be ruthless when you have to, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it.

I feel like the first bit was very much on my mind throughout the weekend, but those last three lines have come to the forefront over the course of this last day, as i have tried to do some Thinking about what i observed/experienced/felt this weekend. whether or not this is what it means in the context of the poem, tell the truth when you can, when you can see it, expresses something of my complex feelings: I don’t know that I can tell the truth about femininity because I don’t know that I can see it. i am both too close to it/still emotionally entangled in it and too far from it to know which parts of it are ‘real’ and which parts are just performance.

i feel like one thing that struck me this weekend, in ways that i don’t know if i’ve noticed as much before, was that so much of the things women say to each other or do in these social contexts is performative, and they know on some level it’s a performance, but we are all going through the motions of doing and saying the expected things anyway. that has not always been clear to me. i have spent so much of my own life as a woman thinking that other women perfectly, seamlessly, naturally embodied the norms of femininity, and i was the only one (or part of a group of only ones) who couldn’t remember my lines, or kept fumbling my cues, or felt so painfully, self-consciously aware that i was playing a role that i could never deliver a convincing performance. but this weekend, after the initial social panic had passed, i started trying to get out of my own head a little bit and look for things that disproved the very strong theory i had brought into the weekend. and of course then i started seeing more and more of the little moments where women say one thing and do another, or profess one belief/conviction but then the whole corpus of their lived experiences and choices contradicts that stated belief, or whatever. and also just like, moments of pathos, where someone i had judged harshly at the beginning of the weekend offhandedly revealed something about her past that really changed my perception of her, or at least made me think like, ah god, i have to have empathy for and with this person, because i think she might be a complex person just like me, with an intricate inner life that her performance partially reveals and partially occludes from view, and agh, it sucks to have to think of people as complicated instead of as safely two-dimensional & easy to dismiss, and the reason it sucks is because then it forces you to realize that you share more with this person than you’d like to admit, and that some of your wounds are the same, even if you dealt with those wounds (the wounds of girlhood, or rather the emotional wounds that our culture inflicts upon girls, which then become tangled up in complex and painful ways with the lived experience of girlhood itself) in really different ways.

but also ugh. we are all performing gender norms but there is just something that does not feel playful at all about embodying conventional femininity. i can’t think of a better way to phrase that right now but it’s like.. the performance isn’t fun. it doesn’t seem to be fun. i don’t know that anyone here was having fun doing it, even if they were having fun being with each other. but it was like doing the intensely gendered social rituals was like, the price of admission? like it was the toll we had to pay to be together spending time in the company of other women? i don’t know man but it fucking exhausts me. like i can push myself to stretch my genuine empathy and sense of solidarity with other women much further than my knee-jerk judgmental reaction, but i can’t ever get to a place where i find any of those social rituals anything other than fucking exhausting. they feel so fucking joyless. they feel like things that many women have internalized as ‘things we must do in order to have relationships with other women.’ (please do not even get me started on how exhausting heteronormativity is i think i could write an entire other essay on how women use these bachelorette party-type rituals to spend time with their closest female friends, but the whole event is still implicitly organized around men, and these women’s male partners are still positioned as the priority in their lives, and the whole event is framed as like, a last burst of intense closeness between women before the bride is delivered over to her husband. like i KNOW that this is not how women think of it but all the RHETORIC of the bachelorette party, the little events and rituals and games, the little comments everyone makes all fucking weekend, good fucking lord, my jaw is so TENSE.)

anyway god i just AGHHHH. idk sorry this is definitely not coherent at ALL because i’m tired and still need a bit more distance/time to process some of this. i guess here is one last thing i want to register before i sleep. i am in my 30s now and i am living a life that is so, so far removed from the social world i grew up in. marriage is not a norm among my friend group, almost all of my female friends are queer women, many women i know are not partnered and have no interest in being partnered, and the friends who are in heterosexual relationships tend to be in very gender-balanced relationships or slightly nontraditional relationships where it feels like both partners have engaged in conscious reflection about what they want their relationship to look/feel like. also i now date women, am out as a lesbian, and spend most of my time teaching/working with queer- and trans/nonbinary-identified kids.

so like, the world i live in now is just so different from the world i grew up in. and sometimes it is easy for me to kind of downplay the intensity of my own gender distress as a teen and young adult, or to sort of - act like it was a phase in my life that had much more to do with me than with the social environment i lived in. i don’t mean ‘phase’ in a dismissive ‘those feelings weren’t real’ kind way, but more like, ‘oh that was just part of the normal growing pains of figuring out who you are and what kind of person you want to be as an adult - everybody pretty much goes through some version of that.’ it’s true that everyone DOES go through some version of that, as just like, part of the process of individuation in that age range. but also like. idk man. being back in this environment - straight white women from the midwest and south, all engaging in the rituals of heterosexual white femininity - was just so intense and so MUCH, and it brought back a flood of feelings and visceral memories that i feel like i will need to spend some time sorting through over the next few weeks. like, what i experienced back then really WAS gender distress, and it was so, so distressing. i spent the years from age 11ish to 24ish existing with this constant lowgrade baseline feeling of wanting to claw my own fucking skin off because my own gendered body felt like such a prison, and i sometimes felt like i literally wanted to destroy my own body because i could not yet conceive of an alternative to inhabiting that body or playing the role that had been handed down to me. until i started reading queer memoirs and inhaling lesbian media and (especially) reading about queer femme identities, i literally did not have an image or any kind of felt sense of what another way of inhabiting my own body might look/feel like. i literally could not imagine it!!!

and that is why the distress feels so distressing, and becomes internalized in such violent ways, i think. because it’s the blind, mindless panic of a trapped and wounded animal. except that you lack any real understanding of the larger social forces at work, or any language with which to describe or conceptualize what social norms are or how they’re enforced. so in your mind, the only thing you can see wounding you is your own gendered body, or the way that gendered body is socially 'read’ by others. and that is why you want to claw your own fucking skin off, just literally dig your nails into your own flesh and claw it the fuck off. because you can’t see a norm, but you can see your gendered body, and you can see the ways that it causes other people to react to you, or treat you, or hold you to a certain set of expectations, and so in your mind you are like: this must be destroyed. in your mind you are like, the only way out is to get out of this fucking body, but that’s impossible, surely, you can’t get out of your own body, so you have to settle for starving it and self-harming it and ruthlessly punishing it in a thousand terrible ways, because you might not be able to leave your girl’s body behind, but you can make it suffer and pay for what it’s done to you. 

i am old enough now, and have spent enough time thinking and writing about those feelings, to identify them when they arise again, and to get the necessary distance from them so that i can say, what i want to destroy are the norms themselves, and the distress they cause, and not the body that has done nothing to me but be me. so i am not quite as sucked under as i used to be. but i think that there is something about the violence and intensity of those feelings that i forget sometimes, or misremember with age and distance. it’s easy to be a little bit patronizing to my younger self (or by extension to my younger students sometimes), because i now live in a social world that is largely arranged in ways that minimize rather than intensify or amplify gender distress. but when you have no choice in how to arrange your life, and no language with which to understand what is happening to you or what you are experiencing, and no frame of reference to help you understand that this is a period in your life and not forever, and no models you can look to in order to discover alternative ways of inhabiting your body or arranging your life... my god, that’s quite different from being an adult with a wide range of experiences and with much greater autonomy over your own body and life. anyway idk i need to keep thinking but now i must go to bed and try to sleep five hours before the plane.

#how can i teach her some way of being human #that won't destroy her!!! #gender #mw #to think further #girls I have been

[bevioletskies]

call it magic (when i’m next to you) [chapter two]

summary: As the long-lost grandson of the illustrious Gramarye family, Apollo already knew his life was going to change for the better and for the worse. After spending his formative years on the run, adjusting to his new place in magical high society was never going to be easy. It’s only when he finds himself locked in a metaphorical - and sometimes literal - dance with Klavier Gavin, both his potential suitor and the bane of his existence, does he realize just how complicated things are about to become.

word count: 4,769

a/n: This fic is a magical ‘verse set in the regency era, where some artistic liberties are taken with the time period to accommodate the story and the magic lore. Most of the details of how this ‘verse works is explained in the fic, but I’ve made an explainer that also includes some image links to characters’ familiars, which can be found here.

Spoiler warning for minor plot points and character relationships in Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney and other games, including Investigations and Chronicles. Fic title is from the song Magic by Coldplay.

preview:

“As I’m sure you’ve surmised, we Gramaryes are the most powerful family in the country,” Trucy began with the theatrics of a young girl who seemed to belong on stage rather than in a ballroom. “Wealth, resources, magical potency, history...though there’s talk of our diminishing value, what with Mother being an only child and you and I being the great Magnifi’s only grandchildren. He takes pride in us being full-blooded empaths, however, and he expects us both to produce heirs of the same cut. Many of them.”

“...lovely,” Apollo muttered. “No pressure, then.”

“The two families directly beneath us - the Feys, a clan of powerful necromancers, and the van Zieks, a family of highly-educated arcanists.” Trucy first gestured towards a trio of young women with dark hair and identical cloaks in a rich, royal purple, then in the direction of two unusually tall men with unusually tight-fitting pantaloons; the older of the two was accompanied by a woman with rose-colored hair who was presumably his wife. “...have I neglected to mention that I’m promised to the youngest Fey?”

Apollo blinked. “You are? Since when?”

“Since Pearl and I were children,” Trucy confessed, her cheeks flushed with happiness. “Mr Wright is a family friend of the Feys; he was the one who introduced us. We felt a connection quite immediately, and Grandfather was more than pleased to make the match.”

“You mean to say that Mr Wright is a family friend to the two most powerful families in the country and he’s the suitor of a lord?” Apollo asked, amazed. “What on earth is he doing as our tutor, then?”

“Speaking of Lord Miles, there he is now!” Trucy enthused, motioning in the direction of a handsome, though somewhat serious-looking man, his mouth taut with apparent displeasure; Apollo wondered if he, too, disliked crowds. By the man’s side were two wards that appeared to be around Apollo’s age, a young man with a smug smile and a riding crop for some inexplicable reason, and a young woman with an impish grin and an intricately-patterned brisé fan. “Adopted into the von Karmas, though the family patriarch is no longer with us; his two charges are Sebastian and Kay, both of whom lost parents in one way or another. Notably, he and Mr Wright have been in love with one another for years, but deny it whenever people dare ask.”

“Oh,” Apollo said faintly. “That’s...something. Is it because Mr Wright isn’t of noble blood?”

“No, no one but Grandfather troubles themselves with that sort of thing,” Trucy replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Besides, Mr Wright’s cousin is engaged to a warrior prince despite being the son of humble - ah! Do you hear that?”

“No, I…” But then, Apollo felt a certain something beginning to tickle his ears, a sort of discordant song that clashed terribly with the live musicians, loud and bold and almost feverish in tone; he turned to see the grand hall doors swing open to reveal one of their many fashionably late guests, a young man who looked no more than a few years older than himself, wearing an silver hairpin in his luxurious-looking blond locks and a charming grin; at his side was a sleek German longhaired pointer with perhaps the silkiest fur Apollo had ever seen. He was a stark contrast to the rest of their guests, most of whom were sporting pale or bright colors, instead wearing a black shirt, waistcoat, and breeches, complemented by a plum-colored tailcoat and gloves to match. The harsh sound from earlier seemed to fervently increase in volume as the man crossed the floor, throwing his arms around Sebastian and Kay’s shoulders in lieu of a proper greeting. “...who is that, and what is that awful noise?”

(read on ao3)

#klapollo #kyodoroki #ace attorney #klapollo fic #ace attorney fic #myfic #myfic: call it magic #long post #here comes the boooooy

[brinconvenient]

Green Egg and Fam

You know what? I'm just gonna go ahead and do this...

So a few years back, I was talking to another trans woman who is very familiar with the DC Universe and we were trying to figure out who is Actually An Egg, and after a few suggestions back and forth, I galaxy-brained the answer. She heartily agreed and we talked about it a bit: 1. Artsy 2. Serial Monogamist who is a Relationship Disaster (Big "Do I want to Be With Her, or Be Her?" energy) 3. Becomes best friends with every ex-girlfriend 4. Noted Respecter of Women in Very Terrible and Awkward Ways 5. Chronically allergic to self-reflection and introspection, but also addicted to it in much the same way lactose intolerant people talk about how they can't give up cheese. 6. Just a complete and Utter Messy Agent of Chaos. 7. All too willing to adopt Other People's Expectations and internalize them as a Sacred Duty. 8. Just constantly Marked By Tragedy - both external and self-created.

It's Kyle Rayner, kids.

Torchbearer,

Honor Lantern,

Erstwhile Ion/avatar of the power of will

Kyle "I will be the Last of the Green Lanterns and yet keep trying to ressurect this entire Corps of Space Cops that I didn't even know existed until some Blue Dude showed up to give me jewelry and I guess marry me into the Corps? Because I guess that's just my job now and that will become my whole personality" Rayner.

After the conversation, this - the only fanfic I have literally ever written popped out of my head fully formed. It's intended to really be Chapter 1 of Several which are basically conversations between Kyle and one Ex-Girlfriend per chapter as Kyle finally accepts herself and transitions.

Eventually she reveals that the name "Ion" comes from her real name "ImOgeN" because she read Nevada and Was Impacted and she's just that extra.

But, honestly, despite getting started on the Alex chapter ages ago, I never have drawn the energy to go back and finish and/or write more, so I'm just gonna share the first chapter of what I am calling:

"Green Egg and Fam"

Putting the actual content behind the Read More because I've already rambled too long.

“It’s just exhausting, you know? Every few years it seems like I have to pick up the pieces of my life, my memory, my self and figure out who the hell I am! Every time I get a handle on things, someone or something comes along and shakes up the snow globe,y’know? I’ve tried to talk to Diana about it and, like, she’s compassionate and cares and offers sympathy, but most of the time, my whole relationship with her is just one more flake in the globe and I never know who we’re going to be to each other. Somehow, though, you’re always my favorite ex-boyfriend. It’s weird, right?”

Kyle patted Donna’s arm reassuringly. He glanced from Donna’s face to the view over Lake Michigan. There was no more beautiful view of the lakeshore than the roof of the John Hancock Building. He could just about make out the lights of the small shore towns across the lake in Michigan, and he could see the industrial Indiana towns along the round tip of the lake.

“I’m not positive I like that descriptor of our relationship, but I am happy to be some kind of constant for you,” he said with a rueful smile. “Donna, you are one of my dearest friends and I always want to be here for you. I know you didn’t need my help with Dr. Psycho here, but I’m glad I was Earthside to help you out anyway.”

They’d taken the diminutive psychic menace to the Chicago Special Crimes Unit, who had training and facilities for telepaths and telekinetics. They found this perch when Donna said she just needed a little bit to settle down before heading back to the Titans Tower in New York.

“No, I had him just about handled - a Lasso of Persuasion is pretty useful, after all - but I’m glad you swung through, all the same,” Donna said. “I’m glad to have a friend here. Psycho was really messing with my head this time. He kept dredging through my memory, pulling out bits and pieces of lives lived and people lost. He made me relive the loss of Terry and Robert and Jenny, over and over, replayed the tortures of Dark Angel, dragged me through that whole mess with the Titans of Myth, and I’m actually not sure which of any of those actually happened in this reality anymore.”

Donna’s breath was getting ragged and tears were falling down her face, twinkling in the moonlight.

“You told me about Terry and the kids when we were dating, so since I still remember them, they must still have existed and they still loved you and you still got to love them. I’m a little fuzzy on the Titans of Myth, so I can’t be sure about that stuff. But you’re here now and that’s what’s important right now. Just take a sec to enjoy this moment, this view, this night and see how you feel, ok?” he said.

They sat in the quiet, next to each other, watching the waves reflect and distort the moonbeams. Donna’s breathing calmed down and she straightened her back, half a head taller than Kyle even while sitting.

“Thank you, Kyle. I’ll be ok now, I think. I appreciate you listening. You have a good heart. If you’d only learn to actually fight without that ring, you’d make a pretty decent Amazon. Well … if you weren’t a man, of course.”

Kyle coughed and thanked the stars that Donna couldn’t see him blush. Suddenly Kyle felt like there was lava beneath his skin and he couldn’t sit comfortably.

He didn’t want Donna to catch on, so he stifled his squirming and whipped up a quick construct of a miniature green Kyle in an Amazonian uniform, breastplate, Spartan skirt and calf boots. For added effect he made sure to widen his shoulders and used Hal Jordan as a reference for a jaw far more square than Kyle’s real life chin.

“I’m not sure I can pull off the uniform. Guess I’ll stick with green and black for now. Ha!” he said. He hoped it didn't sound as forced as it felt.

“Oh I don’t know. You’ve got great legs, Kyle! Maybe you should start wearing shorts when in uniform. Besides, you had those over-the-knee boots for the longest time. I think you’d be just fine!” Donna said, laughing.

“Give me a hug, Dick just texted me to meet him in Blüdhaven. Take care and fly safe back to Oa!” she said.

After a quick, warm embrace, she turned eastward and flew off over the lake. Kyle watched her fly out of sight. He looked down and saw little Amazon Kyle, slowly spinning in the air. He drew the construct up to eye level and returned the shoulders and jaw back to his more slender and softer reality. It didn’t look that bad actually.

He’d been trying to make Donna smile, and deflect from … something before, so he exaggerated those features to highlight the incongruence, but he didn’t hate this more realistic image.

He continue to finesse the construct’s features. Like most artists, he never really considered a piece finished, he just stopped working on it. He smoothed the musculature, narrowed the shoulders a little further, pulled the hips out just a bit more, and left the waist alone. The ersatz Kyle’s face got softer still, the brow less pronounced, the nose narrower, the chin just a bit more rounded. He watched the chest muscles soften and breasts form to fill out the breastplate better.

Finally, he lengthened the construct’s hair to shoulder length, adding some wave and curls like Donna’s somehow-always-perfect hair.

And there she was. The woman who’d been haunting Kyle’s dreams as long as he could remember. Slowly spinning in the air was a woman who could easily have been Kyle’s sister, wearing Amazonian garb (or at least what he remembered from seeing Donna’s while they were dating so many years ago).

He didn’t know how much time had passed since he started fiddling with the image, and he didn’t know how long he’d spent staring at the final form. Sister. Yeah, right.

With an angry wave he flashed his hand through the construct, dissolving and dispersing the light particles that he’d given form. He hastily looked around the roof to make sure no one had seen him or, specifically, seen the construct. The burning sensation of shame returned instantly and he immediately flew into the sky until the buildings looked like so many light-speckled building blocks.

He took himself through a calming exercise he learned from Kilowog to help him center himself and sling his ring “like he wasn’t a complete Poozer and deserved to wear it.” Kilowog had no appreciation for just how hard it was for other people to feel calm when he was around. Still, Kyle found it helped when the pink giant wasn’t breathing down his neck.

“My will is strong enough to carry the torch for the entire Green Lantern Corps, I can stop these feelings. I can make all of these thoughts go away. I can stop this. I’ve got too much responsibility to keep indulging this … this nonsense” he thought, trying to ignore the sting of the tears fighting their way free to fall down his face, ignore the pain in his heart.

“I don’t want to lose my friends - what would Donna say? Would she think I was a pervert, or making fun of her somehow? I definitely don’t want to lose Hal’s and the guys’ respect. I don’t want to lose my whole life just because I’m some kind of freak. Get it together, Rayner. No one else is feeling sorry for themselves because they don’t fit in.”

He pulled a hand down his face and pointed his right fist with it’s gaudy, shining green ring on the middle finger toward the Milky Way and flew into space. He hoped the cold solitude of the transluminal conduits would help him regain his composure before he faced Guy, Hal, John and Kilowog for the Honor Lantern meeting. For the millionth time, he wished he could just be more like them, have just a sliver of their easy and effortless masculinity. They made it look so simple.

“Bet they don’t spend half their life trying to figure out what is wrong with them,” he thought. He tried so hard not to envy them, but it was really hard sometimes.

Especially nights like tonight where his resolve had failed him yet again and he gave in to his most hidden thoughts. He entered the transluminal conduit between Saturn and Jupiter and closed his eyes.

He traveled faster than light, but it still took time to reach Oa, so he tried to sleep and hoped that his dreams wouldn’t betray him again.

#dc universe #green lantern #kyle rayner #transgender #lgbt #trans women #donna troy #lgbtqia #lgbtqia+ #wlw #wonder woman #fanfic #I used to want to be a writer #I almost never write #but occasionally #once every five years or so #this kind of thing can happen #I'm about due #green egg and fam #brin writes