#<-i am so tagging this as that but i stand firm on my opinion

[tagthescullion]

Do you think Rick went a little overboard in making Percy too Mary Sue?

absolutely, I hate that I'm about to say this but percy suffered from like MCU levels of "well now no villain is more powerful, what do we do?" and got sent to uni as if that was idk being grounded or smth

pjo percy had his flaws, hoo-toa-etc percy is just.. bland. like, proper bland. disappointingly bland! he has like every single power in the universe and became the most boring character in the series!!

also he shouldn't have been able to beat jason, if "big three gods" was a real sort of "category", zeus and hades should be just as powerful as poseidon, and thus their children should be relatively matched in a fight.. except that jason only knows fighting, that's all he's done since he was like crawling, he held weapons before he held a pencil, he should beat the absolute shit out of the others!!

[pigeons-conversion-sideblog]

Like I expect this kind of thing from the Hamasniks.

It hurts way more when it's coming from someone who explained why the exact thing they're doing is wrong three posts ago.

I've been seeing a nonzero amount of Jews saying...really sickeningly hibernophobic things in response to Irish individuals being viciously antisemitic.

I've posted about this on my main blog, but it's getting really tiring. Now isn't the time, the potato famine wasn't that bad, the IRA is exactly the same as Hamas, Irish Catholics and Palestinians are the same so Irish Catholics are Scandinavian settler colonists somehow???

It's really making me scared and upset to see people being willing to use collective judgment on Irish people as a whole, to rewrite history to demonize us, to rescind all their viewpoints on how to be decent to marginalized ethnicities as long the ethnicity is Irish Catholic, who rightly point out how fucked up it is that people make exceptions for Jews having human rights...

...and then turn around and make those exact exceptions for Irish people.

This isn't something that needs to be dragged out on posts with people using Irish tragedies to illustrate leftist hipocrisy against Jews, although I do think that rhetorical method is itself hypocritical and it bothers me that anyone anywhere is EVER willing to make exceptions to their principles for ANY ethnicity that exists.

I think that's wrong.

I don't want to take away from anyone's pain. We don't disagree overall. We really don't. I'm infuriated by the "uwu ireland standa with palestine uwu" nonsense too!

I just...I really really hate that the answer seems to be "so we take everything we've been begging people not to do to us and we do it to those filthy micks instead" for an alarming number of people.

I say this here because I think the hamasniks fetishizing Irish history cannot be reached at this point. They need to be fully, formally deradicalized. I'm saying this here because I trust you guys to take me in good faith and actually be open to thinking it through.

I'd like to read some works by Irish Jews, if anyone has any recommendations. I really hope it doesn't need to be said that I would prefer if those works did not also demonize Irish Catholics while uplifting Irish Jews.

[dottores]

okay well, i logged back in, obviously, because there are clearly some things that need to be addressed and have been taken out of context. just because i’m leaving doesn’t mean i should sit here and let my name be smeared. 

to preface this, anantaru and i had a discussion where we came to a congenial understanding of what happened, there's been an acknowledgment on both sides of misunderstanding and believing distorted rumors and people that we probably should not have, but i’m still going to give a full explanation as to the background of everything so you all can understand and come to your own opinions. plus, if there's going to be a call-out post directed majorly at me made, i want an official address of it.

please do NOT send any hate their way, we have ended this discussion on good terms and have worked out what exactly was stirring this discourse between us. (spoiler alert: there was a third-party shit-stirrer that we both considered a decent friend at the time!)

i don’t really need a reason to block someone, and i shouldn’t have to explain it, but i did and i will again but more explicitly this time: @/anantaru made a post that i did not like. it’s as simple as that. it was a post about genshin characters and sex icks and one of the lines were “venti: too drunk.” i’m not anti-dc, but there are topics that i am sensitive about because i was sa’d in my freshman year of college—that is something i have talked about on this blog before, many of you who've been around since my tr era are aware of it. i acknowledged, and tee acknowledged, that this was probably a joke and was not meant to be taken the way i took it, but the aloof/casual way it was mentioned without any TW of implied dubcon, and without acknowledging that it was at least dubcon and could border on noncon in certain interpretations made me uncomfortable. i don’t mind seeing it as long as i’m warned. if it was tagged properly, i would have moved on without much care, but it wasn’t, so i was scrolling through the post snorting and was hit with that and i was made uncomfortable because i didn't like how it was just being passed off as an ick, and i blocked. there was no reason for it to go beyond what it did, yet we are here. anantaru mentioned that if you frequent their blog, you would know that they often write about venti and reader being drunk—i don’t frequent their blog, in fact this was my first encounter with them being reblogged onto my dash by shared mutuals, so it rubbed me wrong. thats the end of it. 

i’m not sure the exact timing, but i believe it was two(?) weeks after this, when i reblogged an unpopular opinion’s post with an opinion that i thought was fairly harmless. sure, looking back on it i could have phrased it better, i’m not going to deny that, but pinpointing my one opinion out of the hundreds of others that were objectively far more controversial than mine and crucifying me for it is uncalled for. you guys know very well that i do not have the time or energy to sift through random people’s blogs to look for minors. every once in a while i glance at the notes of shit posts that happen to be on my dash and i’d be a bit startled at finding a minor in them because i still do think you should at least try to catch minors who interact with shit posts because that’s the easiest way to find them. but i was working at a medium sized firm for a year and a half at the time of the post and i am currently in law school, i do not have the time to be psychotic about people’s likes and interaction, and even if i did have the time?? i’ve always gotten incredible interaction from y’all lmfao, imposing the idea that i’m jealous is entirely inane. i do still stand by the fact that my words were twisted, i was made out, more than once and by more than one person after the next bullet point's events, to have been some psycho that stalks peoples’ posts for excuses as to why they get interaction when that is simply not the case. 

regardless, after this incident, anantaru made a vague post that was almost directly quoting my tags from the reblog and was thus sent to me because many shared mutuals put together that it was about my tags. this was upsetting for multiple reasons 1) i had blocked anantaru by this point so i felt a bit violated that i was being vagued for something by someone that i blocked. 2) i started getting hate anons en masse after it, some of which were very unnecessarily explicit. needless to say, i was very upset and made a subpost on my main account after noticing i’ve been blocked on ao3 because 1) i was already upset and i didn’t even know why anantaru seemed to have it out for me much less go to the point of blocking on ao3 which leads into my next point and 2) i thought it was a bit ridiculous because the only thing blocking on ao3 stops is people from commenting on posts and i clearly was not going to comment on a post of someone who i was not on good terms with. reasoning aside, anantaru can block who they want and i was out of line for making comments about that in particular. i’ll admit that, and apologize for it. 

a screenshot was taken from my personal—not a good moment for me, obviously, but anantaru claimed in their post that it was about them with no evidence. i dmed them about this in particular because i was genuinely confused, we spoke about it, i offered them proof that it was not them because i had a discussion about this post with a close friend at the time of posting it and they believed me. i will attach screenshots below (cropped because there's no reason to attach the whole conversation) because i feel as if this accusation was rather extreme and i wish it would’ve been removed because it was obviously not my best moment. an explanation for the post itself, i was upset over plagiarism accusations regarding something i put my heart and soul into and then seeing the same person that made them consistently on my dash just straight up triggered me, for lack of a better word lol, so i made a vent on my personal. how it got misconstrued as to be anything about anantaru is baffling to me but i suppose that's a question for the subject of our next bullet point. i don’t want to go into detail about the accusations in themselves because i don’t want people to send the actual person who it’s about hate. regardless, that post was not about anantaru, i have never called them a cunt nor have i ever called them a gatekeepy cunt, though i’m beginning to think i should probably remove the word from my vocabulary atp, i use it far too flippantly. anyway, i do not know them well enough to formulate any sort of opinion like that. aside from that, in our discussion we came to an understanding over it and i wish that would have been cleared on their blog as wel. so i'll attach here (i crossed some out because i don't want to breach any boundaries regarding what anantaru might be comfortable sharing but i do think it's fair for me to want this particular point fully cleared as it was a bold accusation remaining up):

5. in our discussion, we came to realize that we have/had a shared mutual who was fostering discourse between the two of us. many of you will recognize her as audri aka alucrds, who has supposedly left tumblr by this point—i suspected this and anantaru has confirmed it while we were talking. audri was sending anantaru my posts claiming that they were about anantaru, but i will stress that the only actual discussions i ever had with anyone about anantaru was with tee and eris about that initial joke because it had upset me at the time, it never extended beyond that and it certainly was never with audri. my only conversation with audri that mentioned anantaru at all was probably around a week or so after i made the post in point 3, when audri asked me about ao3 blocking in casual conversation and i offhandedly mentioned that anantaru had blocked me on there—audri was a close friend at that point and iirc, she had actually told me right after that that anantaru had her blocked on tumblr, i had no idea that they'd been mutuals at all but either way, it was an offhanded comment that led to nowhere (or so i thought LOL). looking back on it, it was clearly her baiting me into giving her information about the post i made a week or so prior because after talking with anantaru, they explained that they got an anonymous message claiming that i was shit talking them for blocking them on ao3 and the only person that could have put together that the vent post from point 3 was about anantaru was audri herself. audri continued to evidently cherry-pick random vent posts of mine to show anantaru and claim that they were about them. why? i wish i could tell you. i considered audri a decent enough friend, and though she had her fair share of issues with mutuals and other friends of mine, i never really thought she’d stoop to this with me. but i guess there’s really no explaining people who thrive in discourse.

6. my comment in my most recent post about being harassed on ao3 and in comments and in asks was not about them at all. i thought it was very clearly about heliotropes (my dottore series) and pressure to update from certain readers, but i'm clarifying that now.

7. i never intended on directly addressing this, which is why i did not directly name anantaru in my post, if i’d known at the time that tee was going to end up addressing all of this, i would’ve just been straight up with all of it.

anyway, i think that’s all, hopefully this will be the last post for real as i am tired mentally and now i am also physically sleep deprived. i've been up since three so forgive me for typos and grammar errors. this all has gone on for over a year. sorry for all the discourse on y'all's dash, wish i could have left with a bit more grace than this. rumors have been blown out of proportions and blindly believed, things have been taken out of context, such is life. i made my fair share of mistakes on my personal blog with my vents, others have admitted and owned up to their own mistakes, some will never admit to their mistakes. such is life. it moves on, always does. i know all of y'all are smart enough to come to your own opinions.

over and out, sorry again, and logged out (hopefully for real this time),

cat

[lover-of-mine]

Saw a discussion on the Buddie subreddit the other day about how BTs are basically trying to bully people in fandom who don't like BT because they are insecure about their ship. Despite what they say they realize it hasn't actually had strong development and they may think that if they can minimize the 'competing' ship it increases their ship's chances of surviving. A lot of them believed the positive response to Buck coming out meant people liked BT and got false confidence and are mad that isn't the case. So it's a way to basically make themselves feel better about their own situation.

All this is to say, I'm SO sorry that people are targeting you. But to the extent you can - aka it doesn't impact your emotional/mental health - please know you have a lot of support to stand firm and shouldn't let ANYONE try to silence or bully you into changing how you do things. I really enjoy your posts, as I enjoy all posts that are thoughtful and HONEST observations about BT. And I'm deeply uncomfortable with how BTs are attacking anything that isn't pro-Tommy or pro-BT and trying to control what other people write and feel. It's scary.

Yeah, I get that feeling a lot too... Even more when I get attacked after saying shit that makes sense lol I think there's a portion of them who thing that if they manage to shut our side up, they "win" which is a very weird way to look at fandom in my opinion, but it is what it is, I guess...

And thank you, I appreciate this, and the support. But I will tell you I was a teenager with purple hair in a small town known for rural production, there's nothing they can say to me I haven't already heard worse lol even more considering they are hiding behind anon and these were people saying shit to my face. I once had a group of nuns do the cross sign at me. I'll be fine, they can't bully me out of here, it's just that these last few days have been a lot and I am getting frustrated, even more considering now people are counting how many posts with a tag there are on my blog? Like? I have been in a constant state of what the fuck. But I'm glad you enjoy my posts and observations 💜💜💜💜

[ofthecaravel]

Heaven In Time

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Am I A Con Man Or A Brother?

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: A year or so after meeting, Sam and Danny are on the road again and hope to get through Sam's home state of Alabama with no trouble. Easy enough, right?

Tags: Religious trauma, hella guilt tripping/mentions of religious upbringing, Fighting, sauciness but no outright smut, healthy ass relationship

Words: 5.6k

A/N: Welcome back! Sorry! Let me know what you think. Chap 3 is in progress 👀 Also this is kinda random but would any of y'all be interested in a playlist for this fic? Do people still do that?

~~

“You gonna be good while I go in?”

“Ye of little faith.”

“You, mister, of chatting mouth and wayfaring legs.”

“Since when do you complain about my legs? You didn’t seem to mind ‘em when they were over your sh-”

“Hey now, hey now, okay. What did I just say about behaving yourself? Jesus Christ.”

Sam laughed brashly as he hopped up on the hood of the truck and made a show of crossing his legs with an angelic smile. Danny, standing over Sam with a firm grasp on his chin, rolled his eyes with the beginnings of a smile spreading over his tan face. It had turned out that Danny’s initial baseless accusations of Sam’s rebellious attitude had proven to be mostly accurate, with the only difference being that Sam’s tendency to wander around fell more on the side of striking up friendships with random strangers and impeding their errands schedule rather than picking fights with vagrants and ending up in the back of sketchy white vans. Over the last year they’d spent on the road, Sam’s increasing confidence and grasp on individuality had given him a smart mouth and big opinions. Gone were the days of the meek, awkward preacher’s son with a guilty conscience that sat on his chest like a rock. Now he stood tall with a proud demeanor and, more often than not, in cut off denim shorts with a cigarette hanging from his bitten lips. 

Sam settled on the hood in that same fashion then, pulling a cigarette from the pack bulging in the front pocket of his tiny shorts and sticking it in his mouth, pleadingly pushing it out towards Danny with a calculated batting of his lashes to get the point across. Danny rolled his eyes again but quickly pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit it up, secretly very pleased to be the one to dote on Sam. Despite Sam’s drastic change in personality making him a far cry from the dusty hitchhiker Danny had picked up back in Texas, Danny’s affection only grew as the months passed them by. It was weird for him to look back on how this trip had begun: alone and directionless, setting off from his family farm in Florida with no one at his side. Sometimes when they were driving, Danny found it hard to recall a time without Sam’s passenger side chatter. How did he get as far as Texas without it? Silence was distressing to him now. Still, he found great fun in requesting it of Sam.

“Just stay here and be quiet,” Danny requested with faux exasperation. “I’m only gonna be in there for a few minutes for snacks and paying for gas and the bathroom. I don’t want to come out to you preaching to your huddled masses like that time in Santa Ana.”

“I know,” Sam whined. “How many times do I have to tell you those guys came up to me?”

“Watch your tone,” Danny whispered as he leaned in, his grasp returning to Sam’s jaw. “What you should know is that I want to get us through Alabama as fast as possible, okay? For you, Sammy, remember that.”

“Yeah,” Sam grumbled, removing the cigarette from his lips with a guilty frown. “I do know. Sorry, daddy.”

Sam batted his lashes again and watched Danny’s face flicker at his words. It was a cheap trick, but it certainly didn’t hurt to slip in Danny’s favorite nickname every once in a while to win his favor in a matter of seconds. 

“It’s okay,” Danny instantly assured him, melting like he always did at the title Sam had appointed him. It only ever trickled into their daytime conversations when Sam was being truly appreciative. He gave Sam a quick kiss before letting him go and taking a step towards the gas station itself. 

“5 minutes max, I promise.”

“Go already,” Sam grinned, waving with a royal flourish as Danny tossed him a wink and went through the chiming doors of the gas station, leaving Sam to take a drag from his cigarette and watch its smoke unfurl into the clear sky above. It was a still, sweltering summer day, the kind of familiar weather that kept Sam aware of their presence in his home state. There was no way to get to their destination of Danny’s Floridian hometown without going through Alabama, which Sam kept swearing up and down would be no issue to him, despite the both of them knowing that Sam would no doubt have at least one instance of grief. So far he was having no problems, and as he absently bounced his shoe and closed his eyes against the comforting sun, Sam started to actually feel optimistic.

After a minute, Sam became aware of the creeping feeling that he was being watched. With his eyes closed it felt unfounded, but when gut instinct and a rolling chill over his otherwise sweaty skin told him to peek and assess his surroundings, he realized that he had good reason for it. 

Outside the gas station standing on the ledge of sidewalk facing the last pump was a young man dressed in a short sleeved, cream colored button down staring directly at Sam. His features were blurry because of the distance and because Sam only had one eye open to assess him, but Sam could see that he had his dark, shoulder length hair pulled into a neat, low ponytail and that he grasped a stack of pamphlets in his hands. This tidy, modest appearance hit a little too close to home for Sam and he scowled remembering when something similar used to be his daily attire. Danny had joked about Sam’s preaching, but he and his brothers really did used to stand on sidewalk corners like the guy in front of him now, waving their hands and crying out with adolescent passion. His scowl deepened and he closed his eyes.

Great, Sam thought in annoyance, pursing his lips against his cigarette. Rookie mistake to actually make eye contact with the guy. Now he’s gonna be over here any minute now asking me about my relationship with God. That’s gotta be the last thing I wanna think about right now. No, thank you.

Another few minutes passed and the creeping unease remained in the pit of Sam’s stomach and kept his ears perked uncomfortably. With an irritated sigh, he opened his eyes again and saw that, sure enough, the sidewalk preacher was still staring him down. He had even moved up a couple pumps, now only a few feet away from Sam. Doing his best not to look at the guy, Sam groaned and slid off the hood of the car, flicking his cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it under the rubber sole of his Converse. The man took this as an opportunity to hastily approach. Sam couldn’t help but give a theatrical sigh at the sight, leaning his head back to stare at the sky for another moment as a last ditch effort to ground himself before the inevitable nonsense. 

He must have seen me and Danny, Sam concluded mentally. And now he’s here to save my soul from our sinful ways. Whoopee.

“Listen, man, I don’t want any trouble,” Sam started, already frustrated. “I know the spiel, okay? God didn’t work for me, it’s nothing personal.”

“Sammy?”

Sam’s head immediately jerked forward to properly face the man in front of him. In an instant, he was drowned in cold and felt his knees threaten to buckle. He struggled not to disassociate, breathing urgently through his nose as his lips shut and refused to part. 

How could he have stared right into this face and not seen who it was in an instant? There was no else whose voice would crack with such specific inflection over his nickname; a nickname never given freely, mind you. 

The round brown eyes constantly shadowed from worry and late night prayer. The combed dark hair and disciplined posture. 

It was Jake, his brother, a thousand times over.

“Sammy,” Jake repeated. He sounded worn down and nearly pleading, seemingly just as baffled as Sam about seeing his brother before him.

Sam couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. His thoughts were thick with shame and gave no more room for that last little spark of hope that he could make it through Alabama unscathed. All he could do was gawk at Jake, who gawked right back at him with what he knew was a near identical expression to his own. He had always felt he existed as some warped mirror of Jake, and here he was, pressed up against the glass yet again when he thought he’d shattered it long ago.

“What are you doing here?” Sam whispered. With their hometown miles out from the provincial rest stop they were at, Sam was becoming increasingly convinced that Jake’s presence was a mirage brought on by the heat.

“What are you doing here?” Jake countered. His eyes were wild and darted over Sam head to toe. A hand came up to grasp his forehead, a nervous tic that Sam remembered (of course) and found oddly comforting to see after all this time.

“Gas,” Sam answered dumbly. It was true, but obviously not the answer Jake was looking for. Sam felt close to tears in a manner of seconds when hurt flashed over Jake’s face, clearly from Sam’s cold brevity and…well, everything.  

“So, you have a car now?”

“I-”

“Come on, babe, what’d I say? No mingling!”

Sam had hardly registered the crisp bell of the gas station doors cheerily bursting open, revealing Danny with an armful of beers and wrapped sandwiches. He wore a bright smile as he usually did when he was with Sam, and Sam watched helplessly as it fell at the sight of Sam’s face painted with frozen desperation. Never taking his eyes off of Sam, Danny set his treasures down on his seat through the truck’s open window and was at Sam’s side in a second, a protective hand already up to shove Jake back if need be. 

“Can I help you, man?” Danny asked curtly, glaring down at Jake with his dark eyebrows furrowed menacingly.

“Who is this guy?” Jake asked Sam in an amused tone, as if he truly couldn’t believe that Sam would go anywhere near Danny. When Jake had known him, it would have been a fair assumption for him to make, but now there was nothing further from the truth.

“Who are you?” Danny shot right back, adjusting to stand partly in front of Sam. His shield and sword all rolled into one. Sam felt grateful for his protection but knew it was unnecessary. 

“Danny, this is, uh, my brother,” Sam introduced nervously, putting a hand on his bare arm and giving it a calming squeeze. “Jake, this is Danny.”

Jake held out a polite hand for Danny to shake, which he obliged with a mistrustful squint of his hazel eyes. In Sam’s stories about his childhood, Jake had never really been the enemy in any of them, save for silly childhood disputes. But his compliance never made him a hero either, and Sam knew that Danny was recalling all he could remember of Sam’s brothers from the rude way he pulled his hand back from the handshake. Jake didn’t appear to care at all, turning his gaze on Sam once more with a weak laugh.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Jake asked. “We read your note, of course, but forgive me for beginning to think the worst had happened when there was absolutely no trace of you anywhere. Mom started reading the news all the way up in Montgomery just in case there was mention of you.”

“No, uh, I’ve been traveling,” Sam explained, incapable of making eye contact. “Mostly stuck to the Southern states, but, yeah. We’re actually not staying, we’re headed to Danny's place in Florida right now.”

“Wow,” Jake remarked blankly, nodding thoughtfully. “Okay. We, huh?”

“Danny was kind enough to pick me up in Texas,” Sam clarified, nodding towards Danny. “We’ve stuck together since then.”

“Somebody had to keep him safe,” Danny said in a clipped voice, looking Jake up and down with an accusatory glare. Jake continued to not acknowledge Danny’s obvious distaste for him and pressed onwards. He gave another nod that turned into a disbelieving shake of the head.

“How in the world did you get to Texas with no ride? I have about a million questions, Sammy, forgive me for my impatience. I mean, for starters, you look…”

Jake gestured vaguely to Sam’s bare bones outfit composed of a maroon band tee more suited to Danny’s frame than his (which made sense, considering it was Danny’s), meaning it fell so low it almost entirely covered Sam’s very short shorts. It was a standard outfit for him now, but the last time Jake had seen Sam, he’d been dressed in something nearly identical to the outfit Jake wore, complete with the long tweed pants in the blistering heat. Sam’s hair, kept long to compliment his newfound appreciation for his androgynous features and to serve as something extra for Danny to pull when they were caught up in motel bedroom devotions, was pulled into low frizzy pigtails that Jake no doubt found bizarre.

 For the first time in a long time, Sam began to feel self conscious.

“Different?” Sam asked, putting a hand on his hip. “Is that cool with you?”

“I…of course, it’s just…definitely different,” Jake agreed, a hint of venom finally tinting his words. “I hoped maybe you’d gone off to, you know, spread the good word, but I can tell from your outf-”

“You wouldn’t have thought that if you’d actually read my note like you said you did. You know why I left, Jake.”

“Were things really so terrible?” Jake prodded, his condescending tone now entirely betraying his bright attitude. “So horribly bad that you just had to leave behind your entire family who has done nothing but love you, just by the way, and an entire church that you had responsibility in? I can’t think of a single person in Shady Grove that doesn’t pray for you each and every day. I can tell you didn’t have faith in us, Sam, but we had faith in you. Still do.”

“I wasn’t happy,” Sam hissed, tears finally stinging his eyes as he stepped forward and got in his brother’s face, still clinging to Danny’s arm as he waited for his chance to intervene. “Nobody listened to me! Or, yeah, maybe I didn’t speak up enough, but even if I did, you all would’ve just heard what you wanted to hear.”

“Come to dinner, Sammy,” Jake begged, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder with a firm grip. “Come to my place. I won’t even tell Mom and Dad, but you’ve got to see Josh, at least. He talks about you in every single sermon, he-”

“You’re not listening,” Sam groaned defeatedly, flushing hot with frustration and humiliation. He felt Danny’s anxious eyes on him while his brother’s thick skull and saccharine words regressed Sam into a childlike tantrum. Jake shook his head as if it weren’t true, as if Sam was behaving completely out of line. That was something Sam really did hate about his brother sometimes; he could make him feel so stupid for nothing at all.

“Why can’t you ever admit that there are things about home that don’t work?” Sam raged on. “Just ‘cause they work for you doesn’t mean they work for me. I had to go, Jake. I, I have to go.”

“Let’s go,” Danny urged, his voice uncharacteristically cool and tense. “Ready when you are.”

“I’m ready,” Sam snarled, glaring at Jake one more time before turning on his heel and stomping to the side door. Jake followed with a frustrated huff through his nose, grabbing Sam’s wrist and yanking him so hard he stumbled.

“I love you, Sam,” Jake said firmly, passion flashing in his amber eyes. “That’s why I’m tough on you, okay? Mom and Dad love you. Josh loves you. Come home.” 

“No,” Sam barked, pulling his wrist away. “Get off, Jake, I’m fucking leaving.”

Jake stood and watched Sam climb into the passenger side and slam the door, pointedly staring through the windshield and ignoring his fuming brother as Danny hurriedly tossed the food and drink from his seat into the back. Jake smacked his palm against the door and won Sam’s attention again, who now saw that Jake’s furious expression had begun to devolve into tears.

“So, that’s it? That’s all you got to say?” Jake cried. “So high and mighty you can’t even say you love us anymore?”

“Of course I love you, stupid!” Sam yelled, grabbing an empty plastic water bottle out of the cup holder and smacking it on Jake’s head. “I just can’t love you here!”

Jake grabbed the water bottle out of Sam’s hand and tossed it right back at him, ducking when Sam fully threw it through the window. Jake crouched out of Sam’s reach as he pulled a pen out of his pocket and scribbled something urgently on one of his many disheveled pamphlets. Despite Sam’s flurry of smacking hands, Jake managed to shove it through the window and onto Sam’s lap. 

“That’s the address and that’s what time I’ll have dinner on the table,” Jake explained, his teary eyes flashing as he pointed at the pamphlet with vigor. “There will be two places set for you and your, your Danny, and I really hope to see you both!”

“I really hope you like disappointment!” Sam hollered, heart hammering like a jackrabbit as he and Jake launched into a new round of arguing.  

Unable to stand back and watch anymore, Danny rolled up Sam’s window for him and finally began to pull out of the gas station. Jake yelled something as they sped out of the lot, and Sam let out a frustrated scream in response. He was unable to look back at his brother, instead electing to fold at the waist and let out another muffled scream against his bare legs. 

Danny, frazzled from the sibling explosion that had just set off in front of his eyes, was honestly unsure on what the hell to do. He settled for a soothing hand on Sam’s back, rubbing calming circles and asking Sam to breathe and settle down in the most serene voice he could manage. Sam listened and managed to subdue his roaring need to shriek out his frustrations, but he stayed crumpled over with his head between his thighs. As always, Sam’s complete and utter silence was a million times worse to Danny, and he debated whether or not to ask him something just to get both their minds on a new track.

“So, you wanna go to that dinner, or…?”

Yeah, Danny regretted that the second it left his mouth. 

Sam’s silence persisted and Danny swallowed nervously, trying to appreciate the sparse scenery that surrounded the highway so that his brain had something else to do. 

-

5 entire minutes passed without Sam saying anything, which was probably the longest he had ever gone in the year Danny had traveled with him. He was never this quiet, not even in his sleep. But frankly, Danny couldn’t blame him. Danny’s heart broke for Sam, and he bit back regretful tears thinking of how he should’ve just stepped between them and pulled Sam into the truck before Jake got a chance to say anything at all. After another excruciating minute, he figured there wasn’t much use in spiraling, so Danny decided to pull over on the side of the empty road and turn off the truck.

“What can I do to help you, Sam?” Danny asked in a hushed voice, his hand returning to Sam’s back and tilting his head to try and catch a glimpse of Sam’s face.

Sam thought for a second, sniffling wetly before finally turning from the valley of his legs to miserably look up at Danny. Danny’s heart sank at the sight of his lashes heavy with tears and his nose and cheeks painted poppy red. 

“I don’t know,” Sam muttered, throat scratchy from exertion. “Take me out behind the barn and shoot me.”

“Sam,” Danny sighed at his dramatics, reaching over Sam’s head to click open the glove box and pull out a clean handkerchief. He presented it to Sam, who made no move to grab it, so he rested it on top of his head with a little smile. 

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled, still unmoving and sniffing pathetically. His gaze was blank and defeated and his face was still dotted with tears, which Danny lovingly swept away with a curled knuckle. 

“That was a lot,” Danny commented steadily, still trying to pry a productive conversation out of the ever stubborn Sam. “Definitely wouldn’t have picked that station if I had known your people would be anywhere near it.”

“He really shouldn’t have been,” Sam complained. “Shady Grove is, like, 10 miles out closer to the coast. But it’s not completely unheard of for him to go to the most random fucking places for his sidewalk preaching. Divine timing, I guess. Great.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Danny whispered, mirroring Sam’s posture as best he could to try and meet Sam’s eye. When he did, Sam’s bottom lip quivered and he clasped a hand over his face, letting out an exasperated groan that filled the entire cabin of the truck.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam apologized, his voice shaking with frustration. “You shouldn’t have had to see me like that. Fuck, he just makes me so crazy, it’s like I don’t even know what happens.”

“Don’t apologize,” Danny insisted, running his fingers along the soft hair at Sam’s temples to try and ground him. “He came at you pretty hard. I know he’s your brother and everything, but if you gave me the go ahead, I would’ve knocked him upside the head with the way he was talking to you.”

“I wish you had,” Sam grumbled. There was a sore pang when he said it, and Sam found himself falling quiet and staring into space again. “But, like…”

Danny had spent enough time with Sam to feel confident in his ability to read his mind, and from the mournful, longing glaze over Sam’s eyes, he made an educated guess as to where Sam’s head was at.

“But, like…you still kinda want to go to dinner tonight?” Danny asked, attempting to finish Sam’s sentence. 

Sam let out another theatrical groan and answered by gently banging his forehead against the pamphlet on his lap, which doubled as a nod in the affirmative. Despite the anxiety that the prospect of a dinner with Sam’s brothers stirred in Danny’s chest, he was happy to do whatever it took to get Sam through the night without trying to throw himself out of the truck. 

“Yeah, okay, we’ll do that,” Danny assured him, brushing his fingers against Sam’s flushed cheek. “And the second you say we need to go, we’ll go. Does that sound good?”

“Mmhm,” Sam hummed against the paper.

Danny watched Sam’s dejected body language for another minute before taking action again. With a quick jerk of the reclining lever, he laid his seat back and scooted until he was sitting in the backseat. After landing with a bounce on the leather, Danny shifted the beers and sandwiches once again while Sam sat up and gave him a quizzical look.

“What?” Sam asked simply, a confused smile very slowly seeping into his expression as Danny settled in the middle of the backseat and opened up his arms.

“Someone needs a hug,” Danny determined, beckoning Sam into his lap with a cheeky grin.

“You are so goddamn corny,” Sam whined. Despite his rolling eyes, he quickly scrambled out of his seat and clumsily landed in Danny’s embrace. Danny’s arms wrapped around him in an instant and Sam unraveled completely at the comfort, throwing his arms around Danny’s neck as he sank into his broad chest and nuzzled against Danny’s freckled shoulder. Danny held him tight and pressed kisses to the crown of Sam’s head as he felt the erratic cadence of Sam’s heart beating against his own begin to even out into a stable thrum.

“Feeling a little better?” Danny asked tentatively. Sam replied with a muffled hum against his skin and Danny laughed, smoothing the loose hairs that had escaped Sam’s pigtails and were waving wildly in the humidity. Sam pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Danny let out a happy hum of his own. Danny gave one of Sam’s pigtails a gentle tug to tilt his head back and met him halfway, closing his eyes with a smile that he pressed against Sam’s already puckered lips. While they got caught up in a lazy kiss, Danny carefully worked to slide the elastics from Sam’s hair and combed through his impressive tresses with his long fingers. Sam sighed into Danny’s mouth at the relaxing sensation, cupping Danny’s face and slipping his tongue into the equation while Danny indulged in a smug smile.

“I feel better,” Sam finally admitted, giggling when Danny mapped a trail of kisses from his jaw down his neck. “Much better, actually.”

“Yeah? You feel as good as you did last night?” Danny purred against his neck, grinning and bearing his teeth against his skin when Sam scoffed. Danny had found that this was another surefire way to keep Sam’s mind out of a dark place; tease the hell out of him. 

“Danny!” Sam squealed, batting his shoulders and squirming in his lap. “Shut up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, who was the one talking about legs over shoulders no less than an hour ago?”

“I-”

“It was definitely you.”

“Hearsay!” Sam laughed. “Tell it to my lawyer.” 

When Danny lifted his head from his throat to smile at him, he could see the rosy glow had already returned to Sam’s face. Danny’s heart fluttered at the thought that he could be the person to do that to someone, much less someone as wholly deserving of joy as Sam.

“You wanna hear something funny?” Sam chuckled while Danny leaned back against the leather seat, one hand on Sam’s waist and the other still fussing with his hair.

“Hm?”

“We didn’t even get gas.”

Danny froze and blinked blankly. 

“...Fuck, you’re right!”

Sam’s raucous laugh filled the truck as Danny shifted and looked out the back window, staring longingly at the pump somewhere in the distance behind them despite it being entirely out of his sight.

“Damn. There goes my 15 bucks,” Danny grumbled. 

“You only put 15 bucks on the pump? Cheap bitch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have anything you’d like to contribute to the gas fund? Or would you like to keep dipping your sticky little fingers into it and spending it on cigarettes and cotton candy?”

“Absolutely,” Sam smiled triumphantly. “I mean, worse comes to worse, we can always stop in some seedy little town and get me a job working the pole. We’d have gas money for a year.”

“Fuck no,” Danny blurted. Sam cackled again when Danny bulged his eyes at the idea, his grip subconsciously tightening on his waist. “No, no, absolutely not.”

“Jealous?” Sam flirted, tapping the tip of Danny’s nose and winking. He rolled his hips as if he were straddling a stripper pole and Danny let out a suffocated groan at the sensation. Not allowing himself to dive into the salacious imagery Sam had conjured, Danny used his leverage on Sam’s hips to hold him still. 

“No, Sam, I’m super into the idea of you being half naked on stage in front of a bunch of podunk perverts,” Danny replied sarcastically, swatting his ass. “Of course I’m jealous, you little shit.”

“Well, you don’t have to be, ‘cause I’d never,” Sam cooed, clearly still delighted by Danny’s knee jerk reaction. “You know damn well I’m all yours.”

“Yeah, you are,” Danny hummed, chasing another kiss and mumbling against Sam’s lips. “And you know damn well you’re safe as long as you’re with me, right?”

“Since the day we met,” Sam confirmed, heart fluttering and racing as he recalled the first time he’d seen Danny. This was something he did almost every night to soothe himself to sleep, a practice that had replaced the psalm recitations he’d done for years after he steadily found them less and less effective at calming him. He’d picture Danny, nothing short of drop dead gorgeous in a ratty flannel and his combed out curls pulled into a ponytail, with his head tilted to the side as he regarded Sam and his pathetic little suitcase. Frozen in place, Sam’s thumb had stayed pointing up in the air for a beat too long as he assessed the amusing contrast of the gorgeous stranger in such a beat up hunk of junk. In the same way that something had urged Danny to drive through the thoroughfare in the first place, something had given Sam complete assurance that if he got into the truck with this total stranger, it would be the start of his life as opposed to the end. 

Despite the fact that they were far from being on speaking terms, Sam couldn’t help but thank God for it.

“Good,” Danny smiled. “Remember, the second you want out tonight, we’re outta there. You call the shots.”

“Don’t I always?”

Danny raised an eyebrow at Sam and Sam smiled with faux innocence, tucking a strand of hair behind Danny’s ear while Danny sighed fondly. Without the other knowing, both of them felt a sudden urge to tell the other one something. Something that had been on both of their minds for a long time. While it didn’t really need to be confirmed when the time they spent together spoke volumes about how they felt, it still had yet to be said. But Danny was worried Sam was a little too vulnerable at the moment to process the impact it might have, and Sam was worried Danny wouldn’t say it back, so they let the next few minutes pass with quiet chatting and kissing instead. Not that they could complain about that.

“What time is it?” Danny eventually asked, answering his own question by looking over Sam’s shoulder at the radio’s clock. “4:30ish? How long do you reckon it’ll take to get to Jake’s?”

“Only like 20 minutes if we backtrack and take some shortcuts,” Sam explained. “I’ll be our fearless navigator, of course.”

“That’ll be a first,” Danny muttered, which earned him a light slap on the arm. “Well, shit, what should we do for an hour? Anything fun to do in glorious Baldwin county, Mr. Navigator?”

Sam stared off into space for a moment, seemingly deep in thought as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pushed out into a focused pout. However, when Sam’s eyes eventually fell on the space between their bodies and his eyebrow arched suggestively, Danny realized that he had fallen for an act. 

“Unbelievable,” Danny groaned as Sam smiled flirtatiously and pawed at his belt. “I thought maybe you knew some roadside attractions nearby we could go to. I should’ve known better.”

“I mean, we’re already back here,” Sam purred, sliding a hand up the front of Danny’s muscle tee. “And no one’s driven by since we pulled over.”

“Unbelievable,” Danny repeated, shaking his head slightly but obliging entirely when Sam’s lips found his and his hands made quick work of pulling off Danny’s shirt. 

This reckless nerve and seeming insatiability was one of many side effects of Sam’s newfound confidence. Ever since that inciting night at the motel where Sam had stayed under Danny until the sun came up and writhed nonstop from nothing more than kisses and hands on his hips, he had become hopelessly addicted to Danny’s touch. It was fully Danny’s fault for indulging him as often as he did, but he really had tried to take it as slow as he possibly could. Danny knew that Sam had no prior experience and very little knowledge of the body when it came to the pleasure it could provide, and he had wanted to give him a low stakes, enjoyable education.

However, this had become increasingly more difficult when he found Sam crawling into his lap time and time again with professedly innocent questions, all of which were whispered into his ear with hot breath that sent chills down his spine. Sam had insisted on hands-on demonstrations and begged so sweetly, which made it nearly impossible for Danny to continue the patient pace he had planned for him. This eventually cultivated in a “celebration” their first night in Los Angeles where Danny had caved entirely and awarded Sam his sacrament. He’d crossed the line between the divine and the Earth, called Sam his little lamb, and awoke the next morning with Sam’s head on his chest and his virginity (however conceptual that may be) locked up safe in the parts of his mind reserved for the most sacred sentiments. Deep down, Danny knew he’d be trying in vain for the rest of his days trying to replicate the ecstasy of truly feeling Sam for the first time. Fingernails dug so deep in his biceps he’d emerged with a single crescent moon scar, Sam’s hips bucking to accommodate Danny’s stuttering push into him, a pounding fist on the wall from outraged neighbors being drowned out from the rattle of the bedposts…that was a high Danny was going to chase to no avail. But he was more than happy to try. 

Plus, how could he ever say no to Sam? Maybe someday he’d regret letting Sam get whatever he wanted, but from the way Sam looked unbuttoning his jeans with his rosy bottom lip tucked triumphantly between his teeth, Danny was pretty sure regret was the last thing he was feeling. 

They were in for a hell of a night, so why not get as close to heaven before then? 

~~

Taglist: @holdingup-fallingsky @milojames16 @spark-my-nature

[tonydaddingham]

the reading comprehension on this godforsaken website is genuinely insane. it's such shit ppl went after you for responding. fwiw you singlehandedly restored my faith in the GO fandom a little while back, some of the only well thought-out takes for miles (til i started clicking on the reblogs n found more). there was nothing wrong with defending yourself from people who didn't even read the meta. for something you put this much effort into, it'd be weirder not to be defensive

ive sat on the whole thing over the last dozen or so hours now, with a good mixture of upset, anger, some kind of numbness, and incredible amounts of anxiety. i posted that response out of the second; i was really angry, and i flew off the handle. whilst i don't appreciate being told by the other anon that i shouldn't be so attached/shouldn't have been so upset, they have a point, and were right to highlight (intentionally or not) at the very least that that is the root of the problem. i likened the fiasco to some secondary school bullshit, but i didn't realise - or want to acknowledge - that that applied to me too. the whole thing has reawakened ancient history that i thought i had gotten over years ago - more than a decade ago, even - and it very much turns out that that isn't the case, and was simply buried. the uncomfortable thing i also ran into is that the incident has made me re-examine myself with a little more, and definitely overdue, scrutiny - the post attacked at what i now think was my ego, and my over-confidence, and sense of entitlement. that's so uncomfortable to admit, but here we are.

i don't mind people disagreeing with me, but i still stand firm that i don't think sending an ask ridiculing someone, or adding tags that equally can be interpreted as being plain unkind, is a nice thing to do. it's shit - i felt humiliated, and self-conscious in a fandom that until this point, for all my controversial takes 😂 - had made me feel that i had a space to share them, and whilst may not be agreed with, would still be valued by nature of them belonging to a person. i have no doubt that everything on that post wasn't at all personal, but it still felt that what i had spent a lot of time, excitement, and joy writing was worthy of being laughed at, as if i were stupid for writing it (let me be clear - idc if people think the original post and the take within it is wrong, that's absolutely fair enough). it then called into question - what else have people been nice to me about, politely interacting with me about, and yet elsewhere those same people are being horrible about it?

that line of overthinking is entirely my issue, that's noone else's fault, but i do think that had these people just simply kept their opinion to a DM, or somewhere else where the original poster is unlikely/not going to see it, it might have all been avoided. people are entitled to share their opinion, i have no issues with that fact, but it can have consequences... just like the consequences of me rb'ing it once the anger had set in, and i ceased to think rationally. i am sorry that i reacted out of anger, without much - if any - rational thought; that it was bitchy as fuck, and - without the maelstrom of emotion attached to it, as it was from my perspective - it was objectively uncalled for. im embarrassed i reacted like that, and im aware that its only served to make me come across as even more ridiculous than the original post ever could 😂 but i want to settle in with what this has brought up, especially the shitty stuff that i thought i had long gotten over, and look at why i reacted the way i did - i think i was right to defend myself, but perhaps not in the way that i did.

as a separate note, and just really as a PSA to anyone waiting on me in my ask box or has sent me messages - im going to halt on posting any original posts/asks for a while (knowing me, because i can't help myself, a 'while' will probably be like a day). that's in part because im shitting bricks about posting anything in general (this ask response included), but also because - like i said before - i don't want to continue posting stuff when im now wondering how much is coming from a less-than-humble place - im worried that it's a lot more than i ever thought, which is vulnerable, but that's how it goes.

[girlkisser13]

francesca

"do you think i'd give up" "that this might've shook the love from me" "that i was on the brink?" "how could you think, darling, i'd scare so easily?"

a/n: i just finished bingewatching season 3 and i am OBSESSED with francesca.

pairings: francesca bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings/tags: period era homophobia. mostly fluff.

summary: you confront francesca after she kissed you at the danbury ball.

francesca had always been the more enigmatic member of the bridgerton family. her quiet demeanor often set her apart from the whirl of social activities that defined the bridgertons. but today, as she sat alone at the pianoforte, her fingers gliding over the keys with practiced ease, her mind was anything but serene.

it had been a week since the danbury ball, a week since the moment that now consumed her every thought. a week since she had impulsively kissed the one person she knew she shouldn't have. her heart pounded as she replayed the scene over and over in her mind, wondering what had possessed her.

the sudden sound of the door opening startled francesca, her fingers faltering on the keys. she turned to see you, standing in the doorway, your face a mask of determination. you were the object of her restless thoughts, the woman she had kissed in a moment of reckless abandon.

"y/n," she breathed, rising from the pianoforte. she felt a rush of emotions—fear, regret, longing—all colliding within her. "what brings you to bridgerton house?"

you stepped into the room, closing the door behind you. "we need to talk, francesca," you said, your voice steady, though your eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.

francesca felt her heart sink. she had known this confrontation was inevitable, yet she had dreaded it all the same. "y/n, i must apologize," she blurted out, her words tumbling over each other in her haste. "i was entirely out of line at the ball. i should never have—what i did was unforgivable. i acted without thinking, and i deeply regret any distress i may have caused you."

"francesca," you interrupted, raising a hand to stop her.

"please, let me finish," francesca implored, her voice breaking. "i have spent every moment since in agony, fearing that i have ruined our friendship. you must know that i never intended to cause you any harm or discomfort. i beg of you to forgive me for my rashness and-"

"francesca," you interrupted, your tone more insistent this time. "are you quite finished?"

she fell silent, her wide eyes filled with fear and remorse as she met your steady gaze.

you stepped closer, your gaze never wavering. "you haven't given me a chance to speak," you said gently, taking francesca's trembling hands in your own. "you are mistaken if you think that kiss was entirely unwelcome."

francesca's breath caught in her throat. "what do you mean?" she whispered, scarcely daring to hope.

your eyes softened, and you gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "i have thought of little else since that night," you confessed. "and i have come to realize that my feelings mirror your own.

before francesca could fully process your words, you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and resolute. francesca's eyes fluttered shut as she returned the kiss, the weight of her fears momentarily lifted.

when you finally parted, francesca's eyes were filled with unshed tears. "y/n, i am terrified of what this might mean," she admitted, her voice shaking. what will everyone think? our families, the ton... what if they find out?"

you cupped francesca's face in your hands, your touch gentle but firm. "we shall face it together," you reassured her. "i knew full well the consequences when i came here today. i have no intention of allowing fear or the opinions of others to dictate our hearts. i care about you, francesca. and i believe we can find a way to be together, even if it is not easy."

francesca's tears began to fall, but she smiled through them, overwhelmed by the depth of your love and affection for her. "i am afraid," she admitted.

"but i am more afraid of losing you."

"you will not," you vowed. "you will not be able to scare me away so easily. i am here, and i am yours."

she smiled, her eyes shining with affection. "then let us face our fears together," she said. "whatever comes, we will face it together."

she wrapped her arms around you, clinging to you as though you were a lifeline. "together," you echoed.

as the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, francesca knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. and for the first time in a long time, her heart was truly and utterly at peace.

[laenordeservedbetter]

Everything Has Changed — Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader

Summary: When Viserys urges Rhaenyra to marry, the princess storms off to her only place of sanctuary, where you comfort her.

Words: 1k

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage at the end (full circle moment or nah? I don't know), sad Rhaenyra (If I missed anything else, lmk!)

I'm posting this here because my other account isn't showing up in the tags. I have no idea why. This was a request by an anon. This fic can also be found in my other acc!!

not my gif.

—

“—and I have given you my answer, Father! I do not wish to be married off to some lord!” was the angry reply of Rhaenyra. As her sworn sword, standing outside the entrance at all times in case someone seeks to hurt her came with the job. You can feel the vibration coming from Rhaenyra shuffling her feet, pacing around the room as if that will help her prove a point to her father. Given the King’s opinion on the subject, you believe he will not change it for Rhaenyra’s own desires. Viserys can be merciless if the situation requires it.

Viserys makes a movement with both his hands to show his irritation, both of their voices growing higher and higher. Any attempts of warding away eavesdroppers will be nugatory. “EVEN I DO NOT EXIST ABOVE TRADITION AND DUTY, RHAENYRA!”

Rhaenyra wavered. Her father ne’er spoke to her this way. It was another sharp cue that everything has changed. No longer would her father wave off her shenanigans or flash a proud smile her way as she defies his orders. She became his political headache. That’s all he sees her as these previous fortnights. So she storms out of the room, not wanting to bid a proper farewell. She would show him. Rhaenyra would show him that she will make a new order of things. Wait and see, father. Wait and see.

You were not given time to blink when Rhaenyra ran by, only giving a nod in your direction. “Princess Rhaenyra!” You cried out, shoving past your fellow guards who make no attempt to join you in following the princess, making you curse them under your breath along with whoever brought them here. They don’t do their jobs correctly. The only reason they’re stationed in the castle is because of their names. If they weren’t born in such families, they’d have to work as hard as you. To your dismay, ranting won’t get you anywhere; much less change the decree that they will have a higher station. Rhaenyra is the priority here. You cannot allow yourself to get distracted.

“Stop following me, Y/n!”

“It is my duty, Princess! You’re my responsibility!”

In the end, you lost sight of Rhaenyra. With your weighty armor hindering your ability to catch up, you had to skid to a stop. “Where are you, Rhaenyra?” You remove the helmet from your head, propping the metal against the wall. If a thief were to stumble upon it, there would be nothing you can do. You’re willing to take that possibility, however, if it meant boosting your odds of becoming quick enough to pursue the crown princess should she cross your line of sight.

There is a solitary sanctuary that Rhaenyra might be in. This hunch is the greatest theory you have. Besides that, you could not possibly take another guess on Rhaenyra’s whereabouts. You set off to the direction of the Weirwood tree, keeping yourself on high alert.

You were correct in your assumptions.

Rhaenyra sat underneath the tree, eyes puffy and red like the fire Syrax would exhale, except it was much darker. She sees your shadow approaching and sighs.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, hm?” You drop down alongside your lover, cupping her face using your hands gingerly. Rhaenyra places her own hand on top of yours, wordlessly requesting to keep your gentle touch there.

Her eyes close and she holds her breath. “Perhaps my father wouldn’t pressure me for marriage as much if I was born as a son instead. No one respects me because I am not a boy.”

You shift your hand so you could slip it between Rhaenyra’s quivering fingers. Her grip was loose, dissimilar to your firm one. She was half-expecting you to take pity on her. When Rhaenyra sees nothing of the sort, she isn’t sure if she feels relieved or saddened.

“I do, ‘Nyra. I respect you. You are not a son. You are a warrior; everything a ruler should be. It may be the topic of controversy right now, but I know that when you ascend the Iron Throne, you will prove that all the people who doubted you were wrong. It’s only a matter of time, my love. They will see one way or another.”

Most of the internal battle betwixt rationality and the hope inhabiting the princess’s body was put to a stop. Rhaenyra leans her head on your shoulder, unperturbed by the armor still on your body as a result of innumerable instances of her “accidentally” sleeping on your shoulder after a long council meeting. You would try to move her body to her own bed, where she would not wake up with a stiff neck, but she can always tell when you badly attempt at transferring her to the comforts of her silk sheets.

“But that’s not happening today, right?”

You smile sadly, placing a kiss on the top of her head, silver-blonde waves tickling your mouth. “Not today, my love. We can only hope for someday.”

“‘Someday’ is adequate for me.” She said. Rhaenyra has a lot on her mind, but when it comes to you, she has no trouble sharing her thoughts. She wants to tell you everything, ranging from her secrets to the promises she whispers in your ear when she thinks you are asleep. “As long as they are with you, ‘someday’ is bearable. I want you by my side, always.”

“I am your sworn shield, Princess. My order is to stay close by. It would be hard for me to get away from you even if I wanted.” Although you laugh wholeheartedly, it dies in your throat as you see King Viserys in the pathway, staring right at you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, but you knew you had to protect Rhaenyra.

“Shit.” Rhaenyra tenses. “Father, I –”

You could not let her take the fall for this. “It is my fault, Your Grace. Rhaenyra is innocent. She didn’t do anything wrong. I should not have –”

“Save it.” Viserys says, running his hand through his hair (what is left of it, anyway). I should have known, he scolds himself for not being able to spot it sooner. Yours and Rhaenyra’s lingering gazes were more than just friendly gestures. It was romantic! “Rhaenyra is to wed you by spring’s end.”

What in the seven hells?

[gentrychild]

How do you feel about early OfA reveals, especially to Aizawa? Personally I don't like them much, because I think there's too much of a risk especially with how young and inexperienced Izuku is. There's so many ways telling a near stranger who has almost unlimited access to the kid could go very, very wrong.

I don't even like OFA reveals at all so you can guess my opinion about early ones.

I'm about to rant a bit but there is a trope that is awfully common in media and that I can't stand and it's "I must reveal my secret to my friends because if I don't, it means I don't trust them and I am lying to them." It drives me up to the freaking wall. People have a right to keep their secrets and setting boundaries is a necessity for one's mental health. I will even add that there are circumstances where lying to your friends is okay. It's kinda the reason why society exists.

Now, to answer your question.

I am under the firm belief that everyone should feel free to write whatever they want but in the concept of fics, it's better to tag what you intend to to or to put it in the summary so readers know what to expect. For example, I have no objection to someone writing All Might bashing, as long as they tag it so I know how to avoid it.

However, I dislike Aizawa being told what OFA is early, both in the context of fandom trope and storytelling.

When I see Aizawa being told what OFA is, there is often a note of "All Might, what the hell didn't you tell us he received a quirk on the day of the Sport Festival? The training we would have given him would have been completely different if you had been honest from the start!" and/or Aizawa helping Izuku reach Full Cowl earlier to limit the bone breaking.

First, I personally don't like the fandom trend of undermining Dadmight to give more place to Dadzawa. Izuku deserves all the dad. There is no need to criticize one to have the other.

Second, revealing the secret of OFA is not only useless, but dangerous. Not only could the same thing be achieved by simply saying that Izuku is a late bloomer (which has to be in his file since he changed his denomination in the quirk registry after the entrance exam) but it shouldn't even make a difference. It's not normal to look at a kid who keeps being seriously injured by his quirk and think "He had ten years to figure it out so there is nothing more I can do. Better to tell him to eventually figure it out." No matter when Izuku first started using his quirk, the lessons should be the same.

Worse, revealing OFA to Aizawa or anyone is so dangerous that it gives me a headache. Before we are even aware of the resident overpowered sociopath who has been systematically killing all OFA holders, All Might excepted because he ripped off his arms and face first, this is still the only transferable quirk in existence whose power would eventually make you as strong than the freaking Symbol of Peace. People will want it and that will put Izuku in serious danger, especially back when he couldn't control the quirk yet. And the sad truth is that the more people know, the more chance this secret has to be blown into the open.

So lying about the quirk is best. Either a "I"m a late bloomer", "This is a random mutation so my parents can't help me" and "It's not a strength quirk but some kind of weird energy manifestation quirk, which explains why it manifests in different ways" would be better than the truth because when you're in danger, lying to protect yourself is an imperative.

Third, Aizawa is not the person to go to when one wants to handle OFA problems. Despite what fanon likes to think, he probably wouldn't know how to help Izuku with his quirk, unlike Gran Torino. He doesn't have an enhancer quirk, he never helped Izuku in canon which probably means he can't, and the fact that he kept expelling his students doesn't give me much trust in his ability to teach them how to use their quirks.

There is also the fact that Aizawa isn't trusted by Izuku. From the first day, Aizawa has settled as a threat when it comes to Izuku staying in UA. Being expelled is a very real risk with him. So I don't see them having the level of trust required for Izuku to reveal his secret to him. And if it's someone else doing the reveal... Well, it's a proof that Izuku shouldn't trust people with his secret because he can't control the information once they are aware of it.

[ranhaitanisgf]

Hello so glad to see you write for Shinichiro!! Could I have some headcanons of spending the day as Shinichiro’s s/o with Shinichiro, Mikey, and Emma? Maybe having a picnic or going to the mall together? Just some fluffy Sano family time!

spending a day with shinichiro sano (feat. emma & manjiro sano): headcanons

[𖤐] hii anon; thank you for requesting this!! it was so cute and fluffy to write i kinda melted a little bit when i was writing this aaaa, i hope you like it!! <333

❧ masterlist

--

✂︎ honestly, the day was supposed to be just a casual date with shinichiro; going to the mall and doing some window shopping and maybe buying a few things, then going to the food court to get some food before riding to the riverside to watch the sunset. nothing really out there, but just spending time with him was enough for you, so you didn’t really need any sort of fancy date.

✂︎ at least, that was the original plan. you weren’t sure how you had ended up taking emma and mikey along with the two of you, but frankly, you didn’t really mind. there’s probably a lot of other people who would have some...thoughts, if their boyfriend’s little siblings tagged along on their date, but emma and mikey were always such sweethearts, (to you at least) so you actually thought it was a nice change of pace.

✂︎ hm, well, now that you think about it, the both of them coming wasn’t really supposed to happen in the first place. it was pretty nice weather out, so you and shinichiro had decided to walk to the mall instead of taking his bike. the both of you had figured it would be a nice change of pace and that the fresh air would do both of you some good, but you two were so wrapped up in your conversation with each other that you didn’t even notice the steps following you two. it wasn’t until you were almost at the mall that you and shinichiro had realized emma and mikey had tagged along.

“what were you thinking of buying, (y/n)?”

“hm, i’m not really too sure yet, maybe some-”

“i can’t believe that didn’t see us the entire walk!! we’re just that stealthy, emma!”

“what the hell-”

✂︎ and just like that, your date was crashed by the two little kids who had followed you on your way to the mall. according to emma, the only reason she was here was because she was trying to stop mikey, but by the time she finally was able to pull him back, she didn’t know how to get back home, so she just decided to follow you. according to mikey, he had followed you two because...well, just because he wanted to.

✂︎ mikey’s response earned him a punch on the head from shinichiro, who started yelling about how he can’t just crash his date, ‘just because he wants to’.

✂︎ it was obvious from his body language that shinichiro was feeling pretty exasperated from all this, and you can’t really blame him. i mean, who would expect for their little brother to purposefully follow him while he goes on a date?

“sorry about this (y/n), i should’ve noticed they were following us sooner. if you don’t mind, i can run them back real quick while you go look at some shops, how’s that?”

“...hm, actually, if it doesn’t bother you, how about we just take them with us? i don’t really mind that they came along; i really like emma and mikey, and if we take them with us, then you don’t have to go all the way back. is that alright with you?”

“are you sure, (y/n)? mikey can be a little troublemaker sometimes-”

“hey, shut up!! am not!!”

“yes you are!!”

“i’m sure it’s fine, now both of you stop yelling at each other, people are staring!!”

✂︎ gonna be honest here, the two of you looked like a family when you walked into the mall. mikey was sitting on shinichiro’s shoulders while shinichiro kept a firm grip on his legs, and emma was holding your much bigger hand in her smaller one, looking around a bit curiously.

✂︎ as you all walk around, looking at the different shops, there’s going to be a lot of commentary about literally everything from mikey. he’s going to be commentating on everything he sees, whether it’s clothing or a food stand that he wants to go try, his commentary will just be endless.

“do girls really wear that sort of thing??”

“woah, that looks super cool!”

“can we get the dorayaki that’s over there, (y/n)-nii?!”

✂︎ you’ll probably start to notice emma’s longing glances at some of the things that she sees in the windows. she won’t really say anything about it, but you can tell that it’s something she wants, so you’ll go into a couple of the stores with her, asking what it is that she wants. she’ll definitely be surprised at first, but she’ll get really excited that you’re willing to get stuff for her and will show you the things that she thinks are pretty. she’ll probably start talking about how she wants to be able to wear all of the cute stuff she saw in some of the other windows someday, so you just ruffle her hair and tell her that when the time comes, you’ll definitely buy it for her.

✂︎ your actions don’t go unnoticed by shinichiro, so he’ll just be waiting for you outside the store with mikey, looking at you with a small smile on his face. he doesn’t know why, but whenever he sees you getting along with her and mikey, it just warms his heart and reminds him of how much he loves you and how much he wants to be with you for the rest of his life.

“stop staring at (y/n)-nii, it’s weird.”

“wha- i wasn’t-!”

“yes you were! i saw you!!”

“be quiet mikey, i’m trying to have my moment!”

✂︎ ah, well, he actually does know why his heart skips a beat whenever he sees you smiling and getting along with emma and mikey, but he’ll save that for later.

✂︎ when you and emma walk out of the store, the giddy smile on her face makes shinichiro smile down at her before turning his gaze to you, who was looking at her with a giant grin on your face as well.

“let’s go look at some more places?”

“definitely!!”

✂︎ emma is a lot more vocal from that point onward, pointing out all the different things in the shops that she thinks would look best on you. she actually has a pretty good fashion sense, so you ended up buying some of the stuff that she suggested.

✂︎ she’ll even have you try on all the clothing that she picked out for you so that you can show shinichiro, (she whispers to you it’s so that he’s struck with love when he sees you). her plan definitely worked though; when you came out of the dressing room in the clothes she had picked out for you, shinichiro was wordless for a few moments, so captivated by you that he doesn’t even know what it is he should say. he’ll probably stutter out some words after a few moments, the broken sentence resembling that of a compliment, but you’re not quite sure since it’s all pretty broken up.

“wow, uh, you look, uh...wow, you’re very...wow…”

“shinichiro-nii, can’t you think of anything else?! i thought you were supposed to be their boyfriend!! you’re making my plan fail!!”

✂︎ mikey will probably be more interested in going to the food court, and will be asking every five minutes when you guys can be finished with window shopping so that he can eat because he’s absolutely starving, (it’s a lie, he just wants dorayaki).

✂︎ you’ll probably tell shinichiro that he should probably get some new clothing as well, with emma chiming in that his taste in clothes is kinda boring and that he should spice up his wardrobe, (he feels very wounded by this and puts a hand to his heart as if he’s been fatally shot). with that, the four of you will start to look for new clothes for shinichiro. it’s quite the serious mission, so the three of you will be closely examining him whenever he steps outside of the dressing rooms. it’s also like you three are judges at a fashion show, and if you could, you would all be holding up numbers that were rating his outfits, (the employees are fairly amused by all of this).

✂︎ after you all finally find some new clothes for shinichiro, you’ll be making your final stop at the food court, the place mikey has been pestering you about going to for the entire time you were there. he immediately dragged you all over to the dorayaki place, eagerly asking if he could get one. really though, how could you say no to those eyes?

✂︎ after getting everyone something to eat, you’ll all be sitting down, emma and mikey chomping down and their food, and you and shinichiro resting your feet after all the walking you had just done.

“remind me to never bring you to the mall on a date again.”

“what, you didn’t have fun?”

“no! no, that’s not it, i just...my wallet feels lighter than before…”

“you’re so dramatic sometimes, i swear.”

“but you love me.”

“...yes.”

✂︎ by the time you all are done with your food and are exiting the mall, it’s dark out, and emma and mikey are barely able to keep their eyes open, meaning that for the walk home, you were carrying emma on your back and shinichiro was carrying mikey. the walk back was rather peaceful, but what you enjoyed the most was the whispered conversation you were keeping up with your boyfriend, who was complaining about how mikey was drooling on his neck and he could feel it dripping down to his shoulder.

✂︎ after putting both the kids in their respective bedrooms and tucking them in, the two of you just crash on shinichiro’s bed, tired from all the events that had happened that day. you really had to admit though, it was times like these that you would always remember the most. the way he looked like when he was beside you, his eyes already closed as he rested his head on your arm. god, he looked so pretty…

“hmm, what do you think you’re doing?”

“just fixing the hair of my beautiful boyfriend, that’s all.”

“i see...carry on then.”

✂︎ neither of you bothered to change out of your clothes into pajamas, just deciding to leave them on and stay in each other’s embrace. in your opinion, there was truly no better way to end a day than to have shinichiro on your arms, his head fixed into the crook of your shoulder as he peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw.

“love you so much (y/n)...”

“mhm, i love you too.”

--

[crematedcarnations]

mha/bnha fic recs

doing this again. i am half asleep rn and my browser decided to crash mid typing yipee. mostly gonna b oneshots and completed fics cus thats what i read the most of. a few of em have manga spoilers n such so be aware of that. anyways, recs under the cut to avoid clogging search results n dashboards n what not. guess my favorite characters if u want to, it's not very difficult

Words as Weapons - NearoRiver

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

ongoing, 29/37, 95,656 words

summary:

When Midoriya Inko dies in childbirth, Midoriya Hisashi—better known as All for One—decides to raise his son Izuku by himself... without ever telling Izuku he’s Japan’s worst supervillain. While navigating his father’s high expectations, insidious emotional abuse, and overpowering quirk, Izuku fights to become a hero.

- - -

Old summary: Midoriya Hisashi is All for One. Midoriya Izuku is going to become a hero.

personal opinion/extra:

fantastic fic overall, ESPECIALLY if you like afo being an absolutely horrible parent. chapters are long, well written, the characterization is fantastic, and it's just an incredibly enjoyable fic. updates are a little slower than some other fics might be, but with the quality and length of the chapters, i really can't complain. (and obvs writers have lives outside of fanfic and all that) read the tags for any additional warnings

Schrödinger's cat - AyzuLK

m/m, mature, rape/non-con, underage (NEITHER ARE EXPLICIT. more referenced and implied than anything else. warnings are still there for a reason.), graphic depictions of violence

complete, 6/6, tddk (not the main focus but it's there), 31,508 words

summary:

The cat is in the closed box, with a 50% chance of being alive and a 50% chance of being dead. According to the principle of uncertainty in quantum physics, he is alive and dead until someone opens the box. Izuku doesn't want to open the box. OR Izuku didn’t return home after school. Two months later he was found roaming a deserted road with white hair, psychogenic amnesia and a quirk out of control. Nothing is the same after that.

personal opinion/extra:

definitely not a happy fluffy fic. it covers dark and serious topics, but i believe it handles them incredibly well and respectfully. there are some grammar and spelling mistakes, as the writer's native language is not english, but it doesn't really affect the quality or enjoyment of the fic. it was wonderful to see izuku healing in this, and the art is absolutely gorgeous. definitely make sure to check the tags for any additional warnings on this one.

Fear No Evil - katydid

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

complete, 11/11, 59,948 words

summary:

All Might’s new successor was kidnapped by Humarise. All for One’s son was kidnapped by Humarise. Aizawa witnesses a reckless kid get kidnapped by Humarise. None of them know that they’re looking for the same person, even though they just teamed up to find him.

OR: The last movie was a great excuse to write about Izuku being kidnapped by a cult that worships quirkless people.

personal opinion/extra:

delightful read. perfect mix of crack and angst. (crangst, as the writer puts it) dad for one, again, but this time he's..a slightly less horrible parent. maybe. anyways, i highly suggest this fic. very well written and enjoyable. once again, check the tags for any additional warnings.

give me your love for being so good - theyaremycrocs

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

oneshot, 4,116 words

summary:

“So he’s not dying?” Shigaraki asks, folding his arms over his chest sceptically. “He’s not,” Giran assures. “Just needs someone to baby him. Make him soup, tuck him into bed, y’know.” “Oh my god, I’m going to kill you,” Dabi says, standing up from the couch as quickly as he can without falling back down. “I shouldn’t have asked for you. I forgot you were an asshole.”

or: dabi gets sick and the league calls giran.

personal opinion/extra:

lovely oneshot. sick dabi being taken care of by giran. i am a firm believer in giving dabi all of the good father figures. ALL OF THEM. very nice dose of hurt/comfort. it is a sickfic, and there is vomiting, so be aware of that. i highly suggest theyaremycrocs' other fics, too.

fuguelike - orkestrations

gen, mature, graphic depictions of violence (for the first fic)

series, complete, 5 works, 57,687 words

summary of the first work:

There’s too many blank notebooks sitting on his shelves (seven, he has seven—he sees good sales and he just has to buy them, because one can never have too many notebooks) so he grabs one and opens it and slaps it onto his desk and grabs a black pen from his pen holder, sending the other writing utensils in it rattling. He clicks the pen, exposing the tip, and writes, at the top of the page, in bold black ink: Time Loop Analysis For The Present (Titling his things has always made him feel better, and it helps even now, a balm on his nerves.)

personal opinion/extra:

wonderful take on time loops! i loved this series so much. put izuku through lots of pain, but he does begin healing. i am a sucker for fics with healing and comfort, if you can't already tell. afo is a major ass and i hope he trips over a knife. again, be sure to read the tags for extra warnings.

Blood Stains The Skin Red - FanFiction_Artist_Prototype

other (altho imo its a gen fic), teen and up, graphic depictions of violence

complete, 2/2, 7,413 words

summary:

Izuku is eleven the first time his hands are stained, he's sixteen the next.

personal opinion/extra:

wonderful read. acknowledges mitsuki's clear mistakes in parenting, and hisashi is an absolute dick. he's dead, but still a dick. once again putting izuku through pain. featuring a very concerned dadzawa, bakugou and izuku keeping a very important secret, and kids who need major therapy. read the tags for additional warnings.

death upon desire - arlcn

gen, general audiences, no archive warnings apply

ongoing, 8/?, 35,438 words

summary:

The first person who got a quirk wasn’t that glowing baby born in Qing Qing. No, it was a boy named Midoriya Izuku, who watched the world silently with stars stippled across his cheeks and a morbid desire for death.

Or; Midoriya Izuku is immortal. This proves to be far more trouble than it's worth.

personal opinion/extra:

IMMORTAL IZUKU WOO!!! love this fic to bits. it does handle death, and. well. the lack of death for izuku. also he is very morally grey, i suppose? i dunno if that's the right phrase, but his morals are a little wonky, considering he's immortal and the ridiculous amount of shit he's seen. this fic deserves so much love. so many kudos. not sure when it'll be updated next, but i'm definitely looking forward to it.

Taxonomy - MariachiMermaid

gen, teen and up audiences, no archive warnings apply

complete, 6/6, 10,566 words

summary:

Taxonomy: the genealogical classification and naming of species.

Or; people keep assuming that Hawks and Tokoyami are related, and they bring it up at the most inoppertune of times. What a foolish notion, to think the two share a bloodline, right Hawks? Right?

personal opinion/extra:

absolutely delightful. a very light hearted fic with tokoyami and hawks. bird buds :) ft. hawks being a little shit, tokoyami being absolutely done with it all, and conspiracy theorists izuku and todoroki.

ten years of rage (please don't be scared) - whatagoodegg

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

technically a oneshot, the second chapter is an alternate ending. 8,547 words

summary:

Midoriya and Bakugo have the same kind of anger in them. A bright, explosive anger. The only difference is that because Bakugo is strong, he's allowed to express and vent his anger. Midoriya is weak, so he has to pack it down. Only, one day, a hero offers him a Quirk. One day, he suddenly isn't weak anymore. But hurting people is wrong, and Midoriya would rather die than become like his father, so he keeps pushing down his anger. As seepinglong as they stay away from each other, everything will be fine.

Wait, who is he paired with for the final exam?

Ah, shit.

(alternatively, izuku gets anger issues from his dad, and after years of repressing it his kicks bakugo's ass during the final exams)

personal opinion/extra:

i LOVE THIS FIC. angry izuku beating the shit out of bakugou. technically major character death occurs in the other ending, but not the original oneshot. i definitely suggest this fic to anyone who enjoys bakugou facing consequences, especially at the hands of a very angry izuku. check the tags for additional warnings.

seeping through - ashenice

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

oneshot, 6,473 words

summary:

“I do sympathize with Ninth. I have a shellfish allergy too.” Yoichi confided. “So do I actually.” Banjo said. “Me too.” “Me too.” The last ones to add on were Nana and En, sounding as perplexed as all of them felt. Everyone looked at Hikage. “Oh I never had shellfish.” “How.” “Acquiring shellfish was not high on my list of priorities at the time.” Hikage said stiffly. Banjo raised an eyebrow. “What was on your list of priorities then?” “Strengthening One for All and not dying at the hands of All for One?” “Oh right, I forgot about that.” Hikage gave him an incredulous look. “How-”

“Hey Nana.” Yoichi said conversationally. “Do you happen to know if Eighth has a shellfish allergy?”

(Quirks aren't the only thing One for All is stockpiling and passing down.)

personal opinion/extra:

WONDERFUL oneshot about ofa passing on things beyond just quirks. includes but not limited to, a bad knee and a shellfish allergy. izuku confuses his classmates and concerns everyone. i just love shenanigans w/ quirks.

The Crown and Cuffs of Brotherhood - RJKazooku

gen, general, no archive warnings apply

oneshot, 4,000 words

summary:

Midoriya Izuku is born with his soulmark inked into his skin: a crown and cuffs made of detailed leaves, stems, and flower buds.

They are the soulmark of a king and leader and a promise of brotherly love and devotion.

On the day of the entrance exam, the flowers begin to bloom.

personal opinion/extra:

THIS FIC DESERVES SO MUCH MORE ATTENTION. soulmate au that dives into symbolism and the like. reincarnation and whatever's going on with afo and ofa and. I LOVEIT. GO READ IT RN

not alone (in the dark) - firetan

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

complete, 12/12, 67,878 words

summary:

Izuku has had a lot of practice in not listening to what other people say about the flowers blooming on his skin, and who they might tie him to. No matter what people are on the other ends, Izuku promised himself that he'd love them as much as they deserve, and more. Even if they didn't love him.

Shōta resolved to ignore his bond from the moment it appeared. He graduated high school with too-young marks on his face, and a scar in the center of his chest that he refuses to see. Whoever is out there, they don't need him.

Their friends are, frankly, exhausted.

personal opinion/extra:

ANOTHER SOULMATE FIC!! THAT DIVES INTO SYMBOLISM!!! YEP!!!! loved this fic sm. it was a wonderful read, really. i definitely need to go and reread it some time. wonderful amounts of dadzawa and dadmic, with lots of hurt and comfort and. man. go read it.

The Kettle still Whistles (But I'm Learning to Cope) - DragonMarker

gen, general audiences, creator chose not to use archive warnings

oneshot, 4,907 words

summary:

“Uhm,” She starts and Shouto turns his attention back to her.

Her small fists are fiddling with her dress a little more frantically now, and Shouto can tell she’s searching for words as she bites her bottom lip and pushes it out in a small pout. Her eyes start to dart from the floor and to him. Back and forth, back and forth, her red eyes flicker. “Yes?” Shouto tries to gently encourage. He's been told tact and tone are not strong suites he possess, but he thinks the words came out in the intended manor. At least to his own ears.

Her eyes pause on him for a moment after he speaks. He can feel as they shift down ever so slightly from directly on his eye and shift just a little bit closer to his left side and-

Oh.

She’s looking at his scar.

personal opinion/extra:

such a sweet fic w/ eri and todoroki bonding <33 i definitely suggest this to anyone looking for something fluffy with the slightest touch of angst.

your life mattered the most - Soroshi_Azuma

m/m, teen and up, major character death, graphic depictions of violence

oneshot, 16,162 words, hotwings/dabihawks

summary:

“Hey.”

Every member of the funeral looked up at the two league members perched on the rooftop, gasps erupting at the sight. Dabi didn’t blame them. He wasn’t particularly nice to look at.

(Hawks had been the only person to say that he was pretty.)

(Hawks was always a good liar.)

“You forgot the eulogy,” Dabi remarked, grinning. “Didn’t you know? Close friends and family are supposed to give their thoughts. But…” He scanned the crowd mostly for show. “Oh, what’s this? Not a single friend or relative? How sad. Hawks must’ve been lonely, huh?”

“Do not disrespect the dead,” Endeavor retorted. “Especially one that you killed.”

The sheer hypocrisy in those words made Dabi want to throw his head back and laugh until his staples tore his face to shreds.

or: Hawks becomes a Noumu after his death, and Dabi can't seem to escape from the sinking feeling in his gut.

personal opinion/extra: OW. PAIN. THIS FIC HURT SO MUCH. the ending was. definitely not very happy. i'd say it was at least leaning towards bittersweet. realistically it's the happiest ending they could've gotten in their scenario. read tags for additional warnings

sitting in my hand is the sand of a shattered hourglass - zel_over_on_the_beach

gen, mature, creator chose not to use archive warnings

oneshot, 12,254 words

summary:

I am here! I am here! Izuku keeps waking up on the day villains attack the training camp, and the only way he can think of to end the loop is to keep everyone else safe. Too bad he keeps failing at that.

It's a time loop fic, okay?

personal opinion/extra:

WOOOOOO TIME LOOP FIC!!! and its dfo!! definitely suggest this i had so much fun reading it. there is a fic in the series that can probably be considered a prequel of sorts. read tags for additional warnings :)

Pull him under - SorrowSeye

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

oneshot, 9,875 words

summary:

All the stress of recent events is enough to turn Izuku's hair white. In fact, it does just that; when his hair loses all color overnight, Izuku ends up looking incredibly similar to someone he would never want ties to.

Nothing can hold you down quite like family.

personal opinion/extra: HAHA YEP MORE DFO. WITH WHITE HAIRED IZUKU!!! read it its fantastic i lvoe it. wonderful amount of feelings and comfort and. just read it, it deserves sm more attention.

The Right Thing To Do - Emily_Elizabeth_Fowl

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

oneshot, 12,115 words

summary:

“What was the question? Something about their quirk?”

Izuku’s shoulders dropped slightly.

“I asked them if someone without a quirk could become a hero.”

Stendhal-san snorted. Izuku’s shoulders nearly covered his ears. He knew, he heard it from All Might already, he didn’t need to have Stendhal-san repeat it, too-

“Obviously,” Stendhal-san said, leaning back on his arms. “Quirks are merely tools; plenty of heroes have perfect quirks and not an ounce of heroism in their blood. You’re already more of a hero than numbers 2 through 10, combined.”

Izuku could feel the tears slipping down his cheeks, sobbing at the words he had been yearning to hear for so long.

“Did they- did they not say that?” Stendhal-san asked, startled by Izuku’s reaction.

***

Or, in other words: the five times Izuku learned something about Stendhal-san, and the one time he got to use everything he knew.

personal opinion/extra:

FIC WHERE IZUKU KNEW STAIN BACK WHEN HE WAS STENDHAL!!!! READ IT. its such a good fic, and i personally love the way it cuts between the present and the past. gives it. a vibe, of some kind. sort of a 5+1 fic if you couldn't guess by the summary. read the tags for additional warnings!

the archer, the prey - fakecharliebrown

gen, teen and up, no archive warnings apply

complete, 16/16, 28,311 words

summary:

Dabi has spent seven years on the streets, knows the ins and outs of practically every back alley in this part of Japan. Which is why he knows that when he’s surrounded, he’s well and truly fucked.

He doesn’t expect to wake up surrounded by Pro Heroes.

-

or; someone finds Dabi before he finds the League of Villains.

personal opinion/extra: THIS FIC IS GREAT. aizawa and dabi bonding man gotta love it. also all might and dabi bond a bit too i just. love this fic. lots of hurt but plenty of comfort to balance it out. give it a read and some kudos while you're there.

Brother - Celstial_000

m/m, teen and up, graphic depictions of violence

complete, 21/21, 79,561 words, hotwings/dabihawks

summary:

Todoroki Touya has never known comfort. He just didn’t realize he wasn’t the only one.

Or When Touya runs away, he decides to take his kid brother. And instead of joining villainy he attempts to create the home he never had.

personal opinion/extra:

BIG BROTHER TOUYA WOOOOOOOO!! give it a read pls if u like todofam and endeavor bashing just. read it i beg of u. read tags for additional warningss

ok im tired and cold goodnight. if any of the links r wrong just tell me and i'll fix em

its now morning and i am posting this have fun

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 4

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @justine-en @iwillstaywiththemforever @weirdgirlfromtx @edlothia-baby @soul-end @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy

Author's Note: Some of y'all didn't tag so see if that's something on your end. Enjoy the angst and cliffhanger! -Thorne

Wally didn’t come into the coffee shop for almost two whole months after their fight—not that she blamed him—she was still vaguely upset with his harsh words. But she had to admit that she’d gotten used to his warm presence every morning, and not seeing him messed her up more than she thought it would. More often than not, she found herself absentmindedly staring at the door, waiting for him to walk in with that stupid grin on his face and proceed to boast and recall whatever exciting exploits he and his friends had accomplished earlier. It hurt not to see or hear him, and she realized that Wally had become the greatest friend she’d ever had.

Barry still came in though, and if he knew who she really was, he didn’t say anything because he still acted like he always did. So, even if Wally were still angry with her, at least he’d kept his word and not said anything to anyone about her identity. Which if she were honest, tasted bitter when she thought about the price she paid for his silence—his friendship.

It was getting colder again, which meant a lot more people were coming and going from the shop, so at least she could take her mind off her feelings for at least a few hours. Until she got home, and all she was left with were them and a whole lot of silence to think about them with. Sometimes she thought about calling Wally, at least to hear his voice. Hell, even if their last words to one another were frigid, she missed the interaction. She’d give anything to hear him, even taking another round of cold snipes and trades.

She heaved a sigh and wiped down the last few tables of the evening rush, smiling politely at the people who were still sitting at tables or so across. Today had been hectic and there’d been no let up of customers until the last hour of the shift. She’d never thought they’d run out of coffee, but it came close to that a couple hours ago.

The bell above the door chimed and with her back turned to the entrance, she didn’t see who came in, but with another barista at the counter ready to take the final orders of the evening, she didn’t particularly care. All she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Sleep until hell froze over. That, or until her feet stopped hurting—whichever came first. She let out a quiet laugh that made her chest ache—Wally would’ve found that absolutely hilarious and probably shot back about how if anyone had the right to complain about their feet hurting, it would be him. God, she really missed Wally.

“Melisandre,” someone called quietly, and she glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening when she saw the familiar red head behind her.

Speak and the Devil will appear.

“Wally,” she breathed, voice thick with shock, and before she could stop herself, she was throwing her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

He returned her hug in fold. “I guess I wasn’t the only one who missed this,” he quipped.

She huffed a laugh and pulled away. “Believe it or not, it doesn’t feel right when you don’t come around.” Her eyes narrowed almost sadly. “I’ve missed seeing you, Wally.”

“Same here,” he replied, then glanced at the clock above the espresso machines. “Are you almost off? I want to take you somewhere.”

Nodding, she took a look at her watch. “I get off in about ten minutes. Can you wait that long, or will you perish from boredom?”

“I think I can survive ten minutes, Melisandre,” he retorted and collapsed into one of the booths. “Hurry though, I don’t want to be late.”

She rolled her eyes and deadpanned, “Wally, I can’t speed time up. That’s not how that works.”

“Works for me.” He proudly stated.

“I wonder why?” she retorted sarcastically, then gave him a smile before wandering off to clean the last tables.

***

Despite the fact that Wally could run anywhere he wanted in less than a second, he still owned a vehicle and that was downright baffling in her opinion.

“Dick got it for me.” He suddenly said, shifting the car into drive and she blinked internally wincing at the mention of her brother.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know you didn’t, (Y/N). But you were thinking it.”

“Uh huh,” she doubted and crossed her arms over her chest. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Knowing you? Probably food, I know you like to ea—” he dissolved into laughter when she reached over and shoved at his side.

“No, I don’t you ass.”

“Really? Because I distinctly remember the time I took a fry off your basket and you looked at me like I’d killed your favorite dog.” (Y/N) glared at him and he pointed at her. “Yeah, that’s the look right there.”

“I don’t like sharing my food,” she said. “You should’ve known better.” Her eyes drifted to the windshield. “So, where are we going?”

“S.T.A.R. labs.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow and stared at him. “Really? S.T.A.R. labs? What’s there?”

Wally shrugged. “Wanted to show you a bit of what it’s like to be me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You mean you came to see me after all this time and the first thing we’re doing is going to a lab so you can show my what you do?”

His gaze momentarily darted to hers. “Is that a problem?”

“I dunno, I just figured we’d go eat a diner somewhere and apologize to each other.”

“Are you sorry?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Are you sorry? For all of the last three years?”

“Not particularly,” she griped, and he shrugged again.

“Then I’m not sorry for what we said to each other that night.” he let out a sigh. “But I’m willing to let it go, because I’d rather us just have a disagreement than lose what our friendship over it.” he looked at her. “What do you say?”

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment, then she sighed and nodded. “…Yeah, I agree.”

Wally smiled. “Good.” He turned the wheel and pulled into the parking lot of the lab. “But there is food there for us, so you’ll be satiated anyways.”

“Hardy har har. Shut up, Wallace West,” she shot back, climbing out of the car. Her eyes traveled up the tall building. “Wow, this place is huge, isn’t it?”

She felt him stand next to her. “Yeah. Did you know they had to replace the glass windows a whole bunch of times because Barry and I kept shattering them when we’d run up ‘em?”

(Y/N) blinked, unsurprisingly stating, “No, I did not. But I can see that happening.”

He started towards the doors, leaving her to follow and soon they were stepping into an elevator. She watched him hit the rooftop button and she looked at him.

“If you’re showing me what you do, why are we going to the roof? Shouldn’t we be going to some laboratory inside?”

Wally chuckled. “Patience, young padawan.” He ignored her rolling eyes. “Food first.”

“Oh, dinner in the moonlight? Well, aren’t you just the romantic.” (Y/N) cocked her elbow on his shoulder and grinned. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with me all that time we spent away from each other?”

This time, he was rolling his eyes. “Hardly, (Y/N). I just figured you’d want a nice evening where you weren’t staring at your bland kitchen walls.”

She scoffed and pulled away from him. “Look, I’d paint and hang shit up but the landlord wouldn’t be happy.”

“Since when do you care about making people happy? You’re typically a ‘I’m going to make someone unhappy’ type of person.” Her eyes shifted to his and he waved a hand. “Not what you’re thinking about—I was talking about the coffee shop.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, then she hummed. “There’s nothing more fun than telling someone I’m going to get the manager and then do my magic little spin and cheerfully greet, ‘Hi, I’m the manager’.” She grinned. “Does wonders to see Karen’s little head explode.”

Wally chuckled and the elevator dinged. The doors split open, and they walked out onto the rooftop. Surprisingly, the roof was enclosed and lighted, giving her perfect vision and when her eyes fell on them, her heart seemed to stop in her chest, and her feet to a halt.

They stood from the table they’d been sitting at and with her heart hammering against her ribcage, she immediately spun on her heel, intent to flee back into the elevator, only to come chest to chest with Wally, who wrapped his arms around her waist—effectively keeping her in place.

Her feet were still moving on their own accord and she shoved against his chest, trying to get back to the lift. “Wally, move.”

“No, (Y/N),” he murmured, and she could feel her breath starting to come in and out in panicked spurts.

“Wally, please, I’m begging you, move.” She stared up at him and plead, “Please don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything, just please let me leave.”

His evergreen eyes were narrowed in pity, but there was a firmness that rested within that pity and he shook his head. “I can’t let you leave, (Y/N).”

“Wally, please,” she begged, arms starting to go limp against his chest, the tears flooding her vision. “Don’t make me do this.”

“You’ve gotta stop running, (Y/N).”

She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her, and she rested her cheek against his chest. “I hate you…so much.”

“I know,” he murmured.

“You’re a liar and I hate you.”

Wally sighed. “I know you do.”

(Y/N)’s face contorted in anger despite her pain. “I should’ve left the night we fought. I knew you wouldn’t be capable of keeping it from him. From any of them,” she sneered and suddenly pulled away from his grip, eyes flashing with rage.

“This wasn’t your right to tell!” she shouted at him and shoved him in the chest. Wally didn’t budge an inch and she shoved him again. “God, I was so naïve to assume you’d keep your fucking mouth shut! That’s one thing you’re not capable of doing!”

She growled and turned from him, running her hands over her face. “Three years of relative peace shot straight down the fucking drain,” she shot him a teary glower. “All because of you and your big bleeding heart for your best friend.”

Wally frowned. “I’m doing what I think is best, (Y/N).”

“Forcing me to meet them isn’t what’s best, Wally! I didn’t want to be found! I didn’t want to be associated with them again!” she snarled and in an instance her anger cooled, her shoulders drooping as she lamented, “…This wasn’t a decision you should’ve made. This was never your right to decide. For me…or for them.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But if you weren’t going to draw the line in the sand, I was.”

(Y/N) met his gaze and held it for a long moment, then she turned her attention to the four men who were standing in front of the table, their expressions a mixture of regret, anger, and relief.

She let out a long sigh and reached up to rub at her temples. “Let me guess, I’m not allowed to leave until we’ve had our picture-perfect reunion scene?”

Wally nodded. “The elevator is sadly,” his hand shot backwards and with a sharp crackle of lightning, the light went out. “out of order.”

(Y/N) shook her head in disappointment at him then declared, “The next time I run, I’m settling in a city that has no superheroes.”

“Good plan,” he quipped. “But I don’t think there’ll be anymore running.”

She got up in his face and hissed, “Then you underestimate my feelings regarding the brothers and father before me.”

[jaehyunfirstlove]

let me love you down

You’re a former idol trainee turned fashion designer, called back by the company to dress one of their groups for their next comeback. You assume it’s for one of their girl groups, but you’re surprised to see it’s for one of their boy groups. That’s when you meet him again, the one who’d had a crush on you when you were both trainees, except now, he’s no longer the cute boy with dimples. He’s a man now, and he’s determined to prove it to you.

Pairing: idol!jaehyun x noona!reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: noona kink (reader is a few years older than Jaehyun), nipple play, fingering, sex in front of a mirror, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (m. receiving), dirty talk, swearing

Word count: 3.5k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77​ @mrg-jjh (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: purely self-indulgent haha

You walked the halls of the familiar building, memories of your trainee days coming back to you, both pleasant and not so pleasant. You smiled as you passed the practice rooms, remembering the endless hours of dancing you’d done in them, as well as the hours of sitting around and gossiping with the other trainees. You didn’t miss the grueling regimen, but you did miss the friendships you’d made along the way.

“Y/N!” One of those trainee friends, now turned idol, ran towards you now with arms outstretched.

“Irene!” you squealed, as you both wrapped your arms around each other for a tight hug.

“I heard you were coming today! It’s so nice to see you!” Irene wrapped an arm around your waist, looking you up and down, “and you look fantastic!”

You beamed at her praise, twirling around so she could see your outfit for the day, which you had designed.

“So, is it your group I’m dressing for the comeback?” you asked, thinking it made the most sense, as your style fit their concept the best.

“Nope,” Irene shrugged, “you’re in there.” She pointed towards a meeting room at the end of the hall.

“Oh, okay.” You were confused, but hugged Irene goodbye and promised to keep in touch. When you opened the door to the meeting room you were surprised to see the members of one of the company’s boy groups, along with their managers.

The concept was explained to you and you understood why they had called you in, and you were excited to work on something new, not having designed menswear before. As you listened to the pitch and took notes, you couldn’t help but feel a certain pair of eyes on you much more than the others. You remembered training with most of them, but they had been a whole lot younger back then, and you, being one of the older trainees, didn’t spend too much time around them. Out of curiosity you finally turned to them, studying their faces, until you came to the one who had been giving you looks.

He held your gaze for a moment, smiling, before he turned away shyly. You remembered him for sure, you could never forget those dimples. He had been the one that all the girls said had a crush on you, and teased you mercilessly about it. You smiled at the memory, and at the fact he had grown up well, the pudgy face of early adolescence transformed into the sharp cheekbones and jawline that made him the well-earned visual of his group.

With the meeting over each member came up to you and re-introduced themselves, asking you if you remembered them, talking all at once, bringing up stories and memories, some you remembered, some you didn't. Jaehyun, the one who’d had a crush on you back then, stood back a bit from the other members, just watching you with a shy smile on his face.

“And you remember Jaehyun, don’t you, noona?” Johnny suddenly said, pushing Jaehyun forward so he stood right in front of you. The other members snickered, apparently his little crush was well known amongst them as well.

“Of course,” you said, smiling at him, “it’s nice to see you again, Jaehyun.”

Flustered, he didn’t know whether to bow or shake your hand, so he settled on both, bending slightly towards you with his hand outstretched. You took his hand and shook it, noticing how cold and clammy it was. His ears were also a bright red, and he was aware of it, once you took your hand away he couldn’t help but touch them nervously with his hand.

“It’s nice to see you too, noona,” he said, and you couldn’t help but notice how much deeper his voice had gotten. He really did grow up well, you thought.

“I’m really looking forward to working with all of you,” you addressed them all, wanting to break the awkward atmosphere that had settled. There was a chorus of cheers, the members clearly happy about working with you as well. “I am going to need a couple of you to come by my studio tomorrow to do an initial fitting though.”

As the leader it was Taeyong’s job to assign people, so he looked around at each member. You noticed that Jaehyun looked at him hopefully. “Um, I think Haechan should be available, and…” he looked around again, and Jaehyun actually stepped up to him with his hand raised, “okay, Jaehyun can go too.” He chuckled, giving in.

“Okay thanks, I’ll see you two tomorrow,” you pointed at the two members who would be joining you the next day. Haechan smirked, side-eyeing Jaehyun, who just smiled widely at you.

---

The next day you got a text from Haechan saying that he wasn’t feeling too well so he couldn't make it to the fitting and that he was sorry, and he hoped that just having Jaehyun would be enough. You texted back saying it was fine, and that you hoped he would feel better.

You busied yourself around the studio while you waited, laying out the garments you were anxious for them to try. You had hoped for at least two members to get a better idea of sizing, but you’d have to make do with just one. You found it sweet that Jaehyun had clearly wanted to volunteer, and you were looking forward to catching up with him to see how he liked the idol life. Halfway through your idol training you had decided it wasn’t for you and had quit, deciding instead to go into fashion design. You didn’t regret your decision at all, loving your work, and watching idols perform onstage was enough for you, content that you hadn’t pursued that life. You had great respect for the trainees who’d made it, remembering how difficult it had been for you, and working with them again was definitely a treat.

In the middle of your reminiscence, Jaehyun walked into your studio. You almost didn’t recognize him, thinking he was a model from one of your other projects. He was dressed casually, in a black t-shirt and jeans, barefaced, his black hair tinted with streaks of blue, but he still exuded such a presence that you were taken aback.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” you said, startled slightly as he approached you.

“Noona,” he bowed gracefully, then smiled. There was an air about him that almost made him seem regal, like a prince undercover, and there were no traces of the shyness he’d exhibited the day before.

You couldn’t help but look him up and down, the change in his demeanor putting him in a whole new light. Your business brain observed the broadness of his shoulders, and how shirts and jackets would hang off them perfectly, how his narrow waist would show off the cut of a tailored coat, and how the proportions of his long legs and solidly built torso would make the perfect canvas for any creation you could come up with.

He saw you staring and smiled widely, his dimples getting deeper while his eyes crinkled ever so cutely. You remembered liking his face when he was younger, but the cuteness had morphed into a drop-dead gorgeousness that you couldn’t help but acknowledge. And the way he looked at you now, far from the puppy-dog eyes of youth, it was more intense, but somehow still playful.

“Um, shall we get started?” you cleared your throat, trying to clear your brain of the mixed emotions you were feeling, knowing you had a job to do.

You brought him over to a rack of clothes in front of a full-length mirror, showing him the different ideas you had for the comeback. He nodded now and then, giving you feedback when you asked and offering his own opinions here and there. You found he was very knowledgeable when it came to fashion and fabrics, and he had very firm opinions on what he liked and what he didn’t like. You appreciated that because it made your job so much easier, now you had a pretty good idea of what you wanted to do.

“Wow, that’s great!” you said, when he had finished giving you his detailed opinion on one of the outfits. “Why don’t you try it on, and then we can tweak any parts that you’re not happy with.” You handed him the outfit and pointed him towards a changing room in the back of the studio.

You sat on the sofa waiting for him to come out, and when he did your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He’d foregone wearing a shirt underneath the jacket, and had zipped it only halfway, so a good part of his chest was showing. The leather pants were skintight, straining against his muscular thighs, and showing too much of what was between his legs that you had to look away. He came and stood in front of you, so that you were eye level with his crotch.

“What do you think, noona?” he asked nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t currently a walking thirst trap.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, standing up quickly so that his crotch wasn’t in your view, “looks great!” you fiddled with the fabric, adjusting here and there, but you found that doing that made you touch him far too much. Brushes of your hands against his body, and you could feel the firmness even through the fabric. You were also so close to him that you could feel him breathing, feel the rise and fall of his chest under your hands. The worst part, however, was that you could smell him, a scent so intoxicating that it made your head spin.

He watched you the entire time, not saying a word, his eyes following your movements. You started to get nervous under his stare, with the intense way he was looking at you, and you fumbled with the zipper of the jacket trying to zip it up further to cover him up and salvage some of your sanity. Close to the top, it got stuck, probably because your hand was shaking and you couldn’t do it smoothly. You tried to unstick it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Here, let me try,” Jaehyun offered, but it was stuck fast and wouldn’t move.

“We’ll have to cut you out of it, it’s just a sample so no big deal,” you said, turning around to get some fabric scissors to cut with. Just then there was a loud tearing sound echoing in the room, and you turned around in shock to see Jaehyun had ripped the jacket open, his chest now fully exposed, nipples perking from the coolness of the air conditioning.

“I got it,” he said cockily, a smirk forming on his lips as he watched your reaction.

Your jaw was probably on the floor, eyes bulging out of your sockets. Your hands reached towards him, whether to cover him up or touch his chest you really couldn’t tell. Your reaction seemed to embolden him though, because he stepped forward towards you, right into your personal space.

“Do you like what you see, noona?” he asked, his voice low but teasing.

You were now eye level with his chest, and you had to admit, you really liked what you were seeing.

“I know I had a little crush on you when I was younger,” he continued, his voice as sweet as honey, “but I’m older now,” he leaned even closer to you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “bigger too.”

Everything he was saying and doing was going straight to your core, and your hands flew up and fisted into his torn jacket. He grabbed your hips and spun you around so that you were both facing the mirror.

“Do you like me, noona?” he asked sweetly, pulling your hair to one side so he could have access to your neck. You angled your head to open up more of your neck to him, falling hopelessly under his spell.

“Yes,” you breathed, and he didn’t quite kiss you yet, just his lips hovering over your skin. You could feel goosebumps forming as you watched him in the mirror, teasing you.

“Would you like it if I kissed you?” he said, breath hot against your neck.

“Yes,” you nodded, watching in breathless anticipation as he leaned further in. Just before his lips connected with your skin he locked eyes with you in the mirror and smirked.

Your knees went weak as he sucked harshly on your skin, there were no tentative or tender kisses, just all out sucking, teeth grazing, definitely leaving marks that you’d have to hide. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place, and soon enough you could feel his hard bulge pressing against your ass.

You tried not to moan out loud, but then his hands started to roam, one of them moving up under your shirt, up your stomach, over your bra. He groaned when he felt only the flimsy lace separating his fingers from your perked nipple. He pinched it, and you couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped your lips.

“Oh fuck, noona,” he groaned into your shoulder, “I knew you would sound sexy.”

While you were too busy basking in the pleasure of his fingers pinching your nipples, you barely noticed that his other hand had moved down, undoing your jeans and slipping over the matching lace of your panties. You inhaled sharply as he cupped your pussy, gripping it almost possessively.

“Is this okay, noona?” he asked, and you could hear him breathing heavily.

“Yessss,” you breathed out, the word elongating because now he was tearing your shirt off and unhooking your bra, throwing the garments to a corner of the room. Your upper half was now bare to him, and he looked at you in the mirror, eyes hungry with lust.

“Fuck, you’re more beautiful than I ever remembered,” he said, awe in his voice, before he went back to pinching your nipples. He watched you in the mirror as you whimpered, tweaking and pinching and pulling lightly, and the louder you got the harder he did it.

“You like that, don’t you, noona?” His voice sweet like honey again. He pulled the hand out that was cupping your pussy and yanked your jeans and underwear down, so that now you were completely bare to him.

“So fucking sexy,” he groaned, pressing his obvious erection even harder against your ass. He was still fully clothed and you were completely naked, and for some reason that turned you on even more. You were sure you were dripping wet for him and sure enough, when you looked in the mirror you could see your arousal glistening on the insides of your thighs. This observation didn’t escape him either, his hand slipping between your legs, middle finger rubbing the wetness along your slit.

“So fucking wet for me,” he groaned right into your ear, and you moaned even louder, throwing your head back against his shoulder as his finger made a mess of you.

“Do you like this, noona?” he whispered, slipping two fingers inside you. You arched your back as his fingers penetrated you, a long drawn out moan the only answer you could manage to his question. “Does it feel good?” he asked, thrusting his fingers deeper inside of you. You could only nod vigorously, your limbs turning to jelly as the pleasure coursed through your body. You could feel the knot in the pit of your stomach starting to form, and you started panting as it crept up on you.

“Are you close, noona?” he breathed into your ear, picking up the pace, ramming his fingers so hard into you that you couldn’t help but cry out, clinging onto his arm as the knot in your stomach snapped, and you came, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

“So fucking hot,” he murmured, pulling his fingers out of you. He gave you a moment of reprieve, letting you rest for a moment against his chest as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. You watched his face in the mirror as he rubbed the tip of it against your wet folds, his lips pursed with concentration, his eyes dark and hooded. Once again he looked up and locked eyes with you in the mirror, a sexy smirk forming on his face before he rammed his cock into your pussy from behind.

You almost fell forward from the force of his thrust but he caught you, arms around your middle as he fucked into you. There was no gentleness in his movements, just power and raw strength, and that aroused you so much you thought you would pass out. You held onto his arms for dear life as he pounded ruthlessly into you, your throat already getting hoarse from the needy whines and whimpers that you couldn’t hold back.

“You like it, noona?” he growled into your ear, “You like my cock?”

“Fuck, yes!” you screamed, your eyes glazing over as the pleasure once again spread throughout your body.

“You look so good with my cock buried inside you,” he whispered, “look at how your pretty pussy swallows my cock.” He spread your thighs apart so you could see in the mirror, and you were mesmerized by the way his cock disappeared into your pussy. Suddenly he lifted you up by your thighs like you weighed nothing, and bounced you on his cock, opening up your legs even further for a better view.

“That’s better,” he said, pleased at how much more he could see now.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and you were a mess. Your hair was all over the place, your mascara was smudged, your lipstick smeared. Your jaw was slack and your eyes were glassy, you couldn’t believe how fucked out you looked. It only served to spur Jaehyun on.

“Fuck, you look so hot bouncing on my cock,” he said, voice raspy, gripping your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have an imprint of his fingers there. The way he was manhandling you, the filthy things coming from his mouth, all served to bring you to your second orgasm of the day, clenching hard around him.

“That’s it, noona, come for me, come all over my cock,” he growled, breath coming in short gasps, signalling that he was close, “you’re so fucking sexy when you come.”

You screamed when you came, his thrusts so hard and deep you could swear you felt him in your guts.

“I’m gonna come, noona,” he said through gritted teeth, and at that moment you had the overwhelming urge to taste him.

“In my mouth,” you panted, and he obliged, pulling you off him and setting you down on your feet. You were glad you didn’t have to stand, your legs wobbly as you knelt down in front of him. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his cock was, red and angry and glistening with your juices, and you took it into your mouth hungrily.

“Oh fuck, noona!” he cried out, his hands threading through your hair. He was watching you bob on his cock in the mirror, trying to hold out because you looked so hot doing it.

“That’s it, noona,” he encouraged, “your mouth feels so good,” he threw his head back, concentrating, but he slipped momentarily and rammed his cock down your throat. You gagged for a second, but the feeling actually turned you on, and you tried to take more of him into your mouth as you could.

“Oh shit, noona,” he moaned, “you like that, don’t you?”

You looked up at him and nodded, and the look in his eyes was almost feral. He took a hold of your head then, and started to fuck your throat, once again sparing you no mercy. He was rough on you and you loved it, pulling at your hair just hard enough that the pain mixed with the pleasure, and you could feel the wetness once again pooling between your legs. Your throat constricting around his cock triggered his orgasm, and he groaned loudly as his warm cum spilled down your throat. You took it all, swallowing every drop, and when he pulled out you swiped your tongue along the tip.

“Holy fucking shit, noona,” he swore, his eyes wide with awe as he looked down at you. He tried to keep up his cocky demeanor, but traces of the shyness from the day before were there too, and you couldn’t help but smile. He helped you stand up and gathered you into his arms, smiling somewhat shyly at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes, very much okay.” You answered, although you knew you’d have marks on your neck and imprints on your thighs that you’d have to answer for. Either way it was worth it, as you finally discovered what that boy with the dimples was all about.

[the-ace-lesbians]

I've just discovered your beautiful tumblr. So I've been out as a lesbian for over a decade but only in the past two months have I realized I'm asexual (embarrassingly late). But I find I feel quite disconnected from the lesbian comm, perhaps because of the sexual component? I don't like the sunset flag (I like what it stands for, I just don't get excited when I see it). I feel more comfortable in the ace comm. Is this relatable or am I making presumptions about the lesbian comm? I feel bad!

Longest post imaginable and FAQ below!

Hey! Look, we all have to make our own choices and do whatever we need to to make ourselves feel safe and comfortable! I'm a firm believer that people never have to doubt or question themselves if they feel comfortable unless someone else says, 'hey, here's some proof that what you're doing is harmful'.

That being said, first off, don't feel embarrassed about finding out your asexual later in life! It's hard knowing what's sexual attraction and what's not, and that's made so much more difficult by allosexual marketing, media, "sex crucial" ideals about relationships, the fact that sexual attraction and drive only truly begins with puberty and so, so much more; It's hard to figure out by oneself, and even with the help of others, and no one should ever feel nervous or embarrassed by not realizing young.

Next, I want to say that not feeling as connected to the lesbian community as you do the asexual community isn't something I can personally relate to right off the bat, but I DO relate to the idea of feeling disconnected from the lesbian community because of the focus on sexual aspects of it; That's fair! While no one should be shamed of their sex lives, attractions, or anything to do with their own sexual experiences, especially not the queer community and in this case especially not lesbians, the lesbian community has had it's fair share of struggles with oversexualization in my opinion-- Not even from lesbians, which is the worse part.

Nonlesbians and nonsapphics have fetishized the lesbian community to awful, horrible points, the point that the term lesbian has pretty much become synonymous with sex, and in particular, the fetishized versions that nonlesbians portray us as-- I've heard a lot of lesbians say that that pretty much instantly makes them feel isolated and separated from a lot of the lesbian community as a whole, and it's very important to realize that this isn't the lesbian communities fault, but rather the fault of people fetishizing the lesbian community and making it so that there's no real place to have a completely nonfetishized or nonsexualized space of sapphic people and lesbians.

(cut to preserve people's dashes)

Allosexual lesbians have done good work in reclaiming the identity and taking the fetishization away from their actual sexual attraction to women, and I genuinely will always support that! I think sex is natural, and some people (not even just asexuals) don't want it or want it rarely, and that's just as natural. However, in my personal opinion, the push to reclaim the very term, 'lesbian', the tags, the way people view us, and the sexual attraction lesbians feel has made a huge push for nonfetishized content from lesbains and sapphics for lesbians and sapphics, which is a good thing, but ultimately means that there's no real place for nonsexual content in general.

That can be so much more isolating than fetishized content for asexual lesbians and sapphics, since I would hope we know that it's a good thing for lesbians to reclaim our sexualities and romance, but our version of reclaiming our sexualities looks much different for allosexual lesbians and sapphics. Where do we go in the sexual content? What do we say when most positivity posts focus on a sexual attraction to women and that doesn't apply to us?

One more time just in case someone misunderstands: I love and support the sex-positive movement within the lesbian community, and I think lesbians deserve positivity, especially those who feel any sort of negative way about their sexuality and sexual attraction to women and other sapphic people. The sex-positivity is not the issue as even that includes someone's want to not have sex, it's the lack of focus on other things within the community that focuses on more than sexual attraction.

Not feeling connected to the sunset flag is fine-- Not everything is going to connect with you, not every symbol will feel like home, and not every term will fit right-- maybe none will, ever, and that's fine. The beauty of the queer community is that you don't have to fit into boxes, assign labels to yourself, or be some sort of stereotype in order to truly be a part of the community, no matter what anyone says.

Personally, I like the lesbian flag in the same way I like the asexual flag; They remind me that others out there feel the same as me, are the same as me, and that I'm not alone no matter how I present or what I do. A flag doesn't have to define you and you don't have to rally behind it or even claim it to be the thing it represents, it's just a symbol of what is.

I think being more comfortable in the asexual community is just a boundary you have, something that fits you that might not fit others-- The asexual community is mostly desexualized and focuses more on a lack of sexual attraction and the experiences of such a thing where other communities not specifically tailored to asexual or nonsexual members are obviously going to include those things. That's perfectly fine! Sometimes you just feel safer somewhere knowing that all of you will be acknowledged and that all of you will be included instead of parts of you and you have to carve out the rest.

All of this aside, I do want to say that if you're worried about making harmful presumptions about the lesbian community, chances are you're not making harmful presumptions about the lesbian community. Something I've learned is that if you're worrying about doing something harmful, all you need to do is look up something well-researched about the topic, ask yourself, 'am I doing what these people are doing?' and if the answer is no, then there you have it. This is universal, but it's a pretty damn good start-- And that being said...

Here's a list of how to tell:

Ask yourself, am I assuming sex is bad, gross, or wrong?

If yes, then examine your own bias, read about sex positivity and why it's important, and understand that sex is none of those things!

Am I assuming that all lesbians are hypersexual? And, do I think that being hypersexual is a gross, shameful, or ugly thing?

If the answer to the first one is yes, then examine why you're thinking of lesbians discussing their sexual attraction as inherently hypersexual, why their actions seem overtly sexual, and if you're falling into a pit of lesbophobia or internalized lesbophobia!

If the answer to the second is yes in general, look into hypersexuality, it's causes, and how to help and support others and uplift them instead of shaming them-- Sex is never shameful, and if someone is hypersexual and has negative experiences from that we shouldn't belittle them. It's not a moral failing, it's something they should be supported about.

Am I angry that lesbians and sapphics are discussing their sexual attraction to sapphics, or am I frustrated that they rarely speak about other forms of attraction and nonsexual relationships?

This one's more about self-reflection. Are you actually upset, uncomfortable, angry, and feeling ostracized over the fact that lesbians are speaking of their sexual attraction... Or do you just feel ostracized because there's no attempt made to validate you? Believe it or not, these two things are different; A lesbian talking about sexual attraction will not instantly make one feel as if they're an outcast, but a lesbian only ever discussing sexual attraction and never pausing to note that a lack of sexual attraction is just as valid might start to push some buttons.

While no one is required to speak on sexual attraction or a lack thereof, especially if they themselves lack it or have it respectively, when it's a community at large doing it, things can get... frustrating. That doesn't make you a bad person, in my opinion, it means you want to be seen.

As long as you're not invalidating or belittling lesbians or sapphics for their attraction or sex lives, and instead just want to do what makes you most comfortable in staying within asexual spaces primarily, that's what you do. What we do to make ourselves feel comfortable is our business, and we don't have to explain ourselves to anyone.

[rogue-durin-16]

HIS WARM EYES

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Lestrange!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, death

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LONG AND BAD— I AM GENUINELY SORRY BUT I HAD TO

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Lestrange wasn't a good name.

It wasn't a good name in the streets, nor in close-doors, let alone amongst The Order.

That's why I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they had accepted me— well, maybe 'accepted' was a strong word; they had let me in, reticent, weary, but still they had done it. Plus, after Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death, no one would think there was a vacant for a Slytherin and a Lestrange.

It wasn't until I found myself exiting the abandoned Grimauld's Place along with the rest of the volunteers to go to Privet Drive, that it dawned on me; they were short on people.

They were so short on people that the Order would have to swallow my name, my family and my House.

That didn't mean they would quiet down their opinions about me being there.

"I'm gonna say it." Fred announced, taking a spot in the living room's corner while Shacklebolt, Arthur and Lupin searched the place.

"Again?" Fleur groaned.

Fred had already spoken his mind about my presence before we reached Potter's house.

His and George's shocked looks had been on me since the very first moment I had walked into the old Black's home, which was understandable; last time they saw me I was joking about joining the death eaters.

Although the shock on their faces had been accompanied by very different emotions on each.

Fred's held reticence. During our school years, he had never liked me; I would dare to say he was scared of me, even.

George's gaze, on the other hand, held hope —maybe even excitement— which was comforting.

In our first year, I had managed to draw George's interest, and for three years he was adamant about Slytherins not being 'all that bad'.

George's friendship was the thread I was hanging on; he was the only thing stopping from taking the easy way and live up to my name.

The thread was cut after he asked his mother to bring me over during Christmas, which ended up in her forbidding him to talk to me. He, being George Weasley, ignored his mom's pleads and twin's scolding and still tried his best to stay close to me, so I did what was right and, at the end of our fifth year, I cut ties with him.

It hurt more than I would dare to admit.

After our drifting apart, I was forced to completely rely on Slytherins. And you see, Slytherins, as 11 year-old George would say, aren't all that bad, but the ones my name attracted were.

They were bad sort —the worst—, and keeping that company around after our sixth year wasn't the best record to have, but Merlin's sake, I was there, I had volunteered— people change.

"Son." His father warned Fred, well aware this wasn't the time, though he obviously wanted to side with him. "Don't start again."

"Someone has yet to tell me why is she here?"

"She has a name." I hissed, unable to stop myself.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, Lestrange." The name rolled out of his tongue like poison. "She's not one to trust."

"Oi, she's willing to risk her life, isn't she?" George's words seemed to be meant to calm his twin's temper, though his warm eyes did land on mines with a reassuring look.

"Yeah but for whom?" I tried to stay quiet as Moody had asked me too, but Fred was making it quite difficult. "If something goes wrong—"

"Weasley!" Mad-eye's tone was dry as he bursted into the room. "Are you questioning my judgment?" Fred scoffed, but stayed quiet.

"If we're throwing in the surnames, you're gonna wanna know her mum's my auntie." Tonks spoke, folding her arms.

"But you're a Hufflepuff." He was quick to respond, giving me a disgusted look. "She's a Serpent."

"And you're still a mouthful, aren't you?!" I snapped, stepping forward, though Tonks gave me a lazy tug before I could get to Fred.

"Wanna fight, Lestrange?" He had taken a couple of steps in my direction already when George yanked his twins arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled, giving his brother a push. "She's here for Harry! She's helping! What else do you want?!"

"Oh my gosh, Georgie— get over your teen crush already, she's not on our team!" George's knuckles went visibly white, unlike his cheeks, which turned red.

"Are you done making a scene? The three of you." Bill questioned in a calm tone, resting against the window's bench. "I don't fancy the idea either, but we need help, Fred, so shut your mouth because we have things to do."

"Pity, I was enjoying the teen drama." Moody teased before grabbing his flask and the ones who would take the Polyjuice potion moved to stand in line.

"Y/n." George's hand brushed my hand, drawing my attention to him as we stood besides one another. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered with a side smile.

"Missed me much?" I couldn't help but grin back, bumping his arm with mine. I stole a proper look at him and thought I might as well ask before the mission. "So... Teen crush huh?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him, though I could feel my own face flushing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fancy George —could someone blame me?—, and the idea of those feelings not being unrequited was very appealing.

He only threw his head back and looked away, the half smile growing wider and more bashful. "We'll talk about it at the Burrow." He assured me, taking the flask with his right hand and squeezing mine with his left.

"If we don't die before that." I was joking, but fear was shaking me to the core.

"We won't." He looked at the potion disgusted and gave me a peeked at me saying, "You have to hear me embarrass myself first." And with a wink, he drank the potion and passed it to me.

Gosh, I couldn't get over the mission to hear him 'embarrass' himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

The first five minutes were calm, despite all of us being on edge. We kept checking on each other, dreading if we lost sight of someone, that someone would banish.

The storm came when we had to dive into the dark clouds.

Funnily enough, I did think it was a literal storm before entering; oh, what I would have given for it to be a literal storm.

Black, cloaked intruders flew among us, making us divide in the pairs we had been assigned to.

Lupin started casting protegos and hexes to everyone that got too close while I tried to take down as many enemies as possible.

A couple of yelled warnings were heard when both Moody and the real Harry had entered the ambush.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, flying past me with Ron at her tail. "REMUS!" She made a signal to her husband "ESCORT!" I got the hint; we were supposed to clear Moody's and Y/n's way so it would confuse our attackers while Tonks and Shacklebolt made sure to get Harry out of there.

"ON MY LEFT!" Lupin shouted over the chaos, changing to my right for me to be by Y/n's side.

"WE'RE FUCKED!" She yelled dropping her flight to dodge an Avada Kedavra.

"WE'LL MANAGE!" I automatically dropped my flight with hers too, which was a bad decision, since we had gotten rid of the protection provided by Lupin, Mad-eye and Bill and Fleur.

Soon enough three death eaters came flying towards us.

"STUPEFY!" another Harry with the voice of Fred passed by us, closely followed by my dad.

"GO BACK UP!" Y/n was quicker than me following my father's instructions; when I did though, I realised the little formation we had going on was gone.

Suddenly, all we could hear were screams; it felt as if someone was missing but I blamed it on everyone flying around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Tonks almost crashed against me on her way down; Ron was nowhere near me, nor Lupin.

We were outnumbered, and instead of moving forward, we were stuck in the grey clouds, trying not to die.

It took me a hot second, a crash against a death eater and a couple of hexes to get to Lupin, and even when I did, it was a hard task to keep track of him.

I had just taken out someone in my way when I caught a glimpse of something my eyes refused to believe.

Snape.

Our bloody professor was trying to kill us.

I felt the need to laugh at the situation.

"GEORGE!" It was Y/n's voice snapping me out of it, although her actions shocked me even more.

Y/n casted a spell on me, pushing my broomstick to the left and consequently making me crash against Lupin and lose balance.

Then something happened, something my mind didn't quite process.

At first it felt like a slap, but the pain stung my side as if someone had sliced me with a blade.

I didn't hear my own cry, nor Lupin's desperate 'help'; I didn't feel his hands struggling to take a firm hold of me, nor my own shakily reaching to my side, searching for an injury I didn't want to find.

A second after that, everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

As soon as my father and I apparated in the fields of our home, I ran into the house. For some unexplainable reason, it felt as if something wasn't right.

A couple of steps into the house were enough for that 'something' to strike me. George had been laid on the settee, barely conscious; blood was covering the side of his face, neck and left shoulder, making his hair and clothes stick to his skin.

I was left speechless at the sight, my eyes welling up while I dragged my feet towards my twin.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Bill's words, despite sounding far away, made the gears in my head turn.

Lupin was quicker than me, though, "I told you we couldn't trust a Lestrange!"

"Remus! we don't know—" Tonks tried to calm him down, just to be cut off by Bill.

"Mad-Eye and Lestrange traveled between us and" he gestured at our wounded brother, "Remus and George." His jaw twitching let me know that he was desperately trying to stay calm. "Mad-Eye is dead and my brother just lost an ear, who is it if not bloody Lestrange, Dora?"

"Bill..." Fleur held onto her fiance's arm in an attempt to ground him.

"Did you see her disapparating?" Tonks's point was logical and hopeful.

George would have sided with her.

My eyes fixed on my wounded twin again. He was as pale as a corpse now, and the absence of his ear was way more noticeable now that my mother had begun to remove the blood.

George would have sided with Tonks because he wanted to trust Y/n, and he couldn't even speak because of that same reason.

Since everyone was arguing, they missed the flash of someone apparating near the front door.

I didn't.

Before I knew it, I was running outside with my wand in hand, Lupin and Bill following me instantly when they realised what I had just seen.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Y/n's wand flew to my hand even before I could properly see her.

My rushed march came to a halt when I was a couple of feet away from her, making Bill bump into me; she was as pale as George, maybe more.

She took a seemingly calm, deep breath before attempting to walk.

Luckily, I saw the pools of blood on her shirt and stepped to reach her before she could touch the ground.

"Oh my..." Lupin covered his mouth with both his hands and Bill stood frozen at the sight of the girl in my arms. "MOLLY!!" my old professor yelled at the top of his lungs, going as livid as me.

We shouldn't talk on impulse, I told myself, rushing into the kitchen with Y/n in my arms. A series of gasps and regretful whispers broke the silence while I laid her on the dining table.

"Y/n?" George's trembling voice was heartbreaking, and, as my dad forced him to stay on the couch, I prayed the girl in my arms would survive.

"Oh Lord..." My mother muttered, examining her. It wasn't only her shirt stained with blood; her left leg and arm were too. "Oh dear..."

"She took the blow." Lupin ran his hands through his hair, understandably stressed. After a couple of seconds, her turned to my dad and commanded, "Get him up. Quick— go get him up." His eyes stared right into my soul and I dreaded the worst, but still obeyed and helped my dad drag George to the dining table.

I heard Lupin telling Bill something about Sectumsempra, and my heart sunk.

She took the blow.

"No..." George's murmur was close to a cry, but it was enough for Y/n's eyes to snap open.

"George." tears were effortlessly streaming down her cheeks at the sight of him. "You're... A-alive..."

"Please stay" My brother fell on his knees, reaching for Y/n's bloody hand with his own. We all looked away to give them some kind of intimacy, except from my mother, who was still trying to fix the poor girl.

I heard them both whispering sweet nothings with shattered voices until only one of them died out. I looked over to Tonks, whose eyes were gleaming with tears, and then to Lupin.

I couldn't bring myself to look at George.

After a moment of intense sobbing, my dad managed to pull my twin away from the corpse, and we carried him back to the settee.

I stayed with him the night, holding his hand and assuring him it was not his fault, but I knew my words would have little effect on his state; after all, he had been in love with Y/n for years.

All those years he had spent trying to convince all of us that Y/n was a good person, that we should give her a chance; all those years begging our mother to bring her over because she wanted to see our home.

Now her body was lying on our kitchen and I knew none of us would forgive ourselves for misjudging her.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Nervous?" A tall, redheaded kid appeared besides me; I supposed he didn't know my name by the warmth and curiosity with which his eyes stared at me.

"Aren't we all?" I replied with an anxious laugh.

He seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "Fair point, though I'll probably go into Gryffindor." He assured me with a proud smile, causing my head to cast down. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged, aware I would not be able to befriend that sweet boy with warm eyes. "I think I'll be sorted into Slytherin."

"Nonsense!" His intentions had been obviously to reassure me, but when he realised his response only made it worse, he added. "It'd be wicked to have a Slytherin friend, though." My eyes widened at his words; did he just— "I'm George, by the way."

"I'm Y/n."

"That's a very pretty name." Professor Mcgonagall led us into the Great Hall, and before I knew what was happening, George's hand was holding mine. "It'll be fine."

The lighting of the Castle changed once the Great Hall's doors opened; a bright, white light seemed to be coming out of it.

"Wait!" My hand gripped George's before he could leave my side. "Can you hold my hand? I-I'm scared." My voice no longer sounded like a 11 year old.

For some reason I didn't comprehend, my eyes were watery, making the view in front of me blurry.

"Don't be scared, darling." When I turned to George, I didn't see a kid; it was him, in the expensive suit I had seen him mere hours ago. "I'm here."

I just nodded and, swallowing my fear, took a step ahead, and then another one, and another, until I reached the Great Hall.

[golden-pickaxe]

Coffee (Part 6)

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Modern AU, Office AU

Wordcount: 4160

Warnings: some smut ;)

[Coffee - All Parts Here]

A/N: Part 6 is here :D once again, thank all of you for the feedback, and the comments, likes and reblogs! This is very motivating to keep up writing

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls @mootiemoose​ @istorkyou @dini73​ @heavenly1927​ @hashimily​ @peakywitch​

Summary: You are a graduate student at the University of Oslo, and have applied for a job as a personal assistant at the Lothbrok Corporation, without really knowing much of the position advertised. When it turns out you are going to work for the (in)famous Ivar Lothbrok, your whole life is turned up-side-down.

A sigh escaped you, as you pressed your lips against Ivar’s, reciprocating the kiss, while your hands almost automatically moved into his neck and stroked over his warm, firm skin.

 It was impossible to think, but realisation slowly dripped into your brain that Ivar was kissing you, that Ivar, about whom you had fantasised for months now, really held you in his arms. You managed to push back the memory of Solveig talking about ‘steamy office affairs’, focusing on the here and now, focusing on the soft lips moving against yours.

Gods, you had wanted this man since you first laid eyes on him, sitting in that conference room, who were you kidding.

As if Ivar was surprised by you responding to his kiss, he suddenly pulled back, his blue eyes staring into yours with shock, looking from one eye to the other as you were so close. His mouth was slightly ajar, his breath coming out shaking.

Your frowned at him, not quite understanding his reaction, when he blinked a few times, the expression on his face turning from shocked to confused.

 “You.. want this?” he asked, unbelievingly.

 Now it was your turn to be confused.

This gorgeous, incredible man, who always seemed so insanely self-assured, strong, and confident, and who never did anything risky if he had not precisely calculated every possible outcome, was honestly sitting here, questioning your reaction.

 “Ah, yeah.” You answered, not knowing what else to say.

 “Really?” Ivar’s brows furrowed, the confusion and disbelief on his face only intensifying.

 Despite his strong arms around you, you managed to sit up a bit straighter in his lap, bringing a bit of distance between the two of you. You looked down at his face, now spotting next to all that confusion, also a tad of fear.

 “What is this Ivar? Are you testing me? Or what in Hel are you on about?” you had to admit, you got a bit angry. Was this all just a way to test your reaction? To test if you were interested in him or not? Had he noticed you staring at him, had he noticed your crush, and now wanted to see if it was true?

 Ivar inhaled, but did not speak, just continued to stare at you as if he was ringing for words. Taking his silence, and his lack of an immediate denial as confirmation, you were shocked and appalled.

This man was apparently really as unpredictable as the gossip magazines had made him out to be, not only at work, but also when it came to private matters and the feelings of other people. You had thought you knew him, knew him to not be like that, but apparently you had been wrong.

 Kissing you as a test, and then backing away as if you had overrun him, then not even being able to straight up answer a, in your opinion, very simple question was really not what you had expected from him.

 “Ok, alright. Fine.” With a groan you pushed yourself away from Ivar, shaking off his grip and standing up. You shook your head, before you turned your back on him, leaving the kitchen with large steps, walking towards the door to get your things.

 You had endured a lot of shit from him over the last year, had often had to tiptoe around his moods, had worked late hours and had to use your weekends for uni stuff, because your week was filled with assignments from him, but this? This took the cake.

You were not his plaything to test how far he could go, nor were you here for him to make fun of your feelings, in the way he always made fun of Hvitserk, when he had once again fallen head over heels for a random girl, he had met like two days ago.

 “Y/N, wait! Please!” you heard Ivar’s voice behind you, when you were just pulling on your left shoe. His tone was so soft again, and you could not but turn around to face him. He had followed you out of the kitchen, a pleading expression on his face.

 “I.. I’m sorry.” He brought out, causing you to freeze.

 Never ever, not in the year you had worked for him, had you heard Ivar ever apologise to anyone for anything. Admitting that he had been mean or wrong, sure, but this man never apologised for his actions or behaviours. But now, here he was, telling you that he was sorry, with the most vulnerable expression on his face that you had ever seen. For some reason he looked so much younger than this, and far less intimidating.

 “What is it, Ivar? Tell me. Please.” You heard yourself say, your voice almost breaking away now. There were too many emotions caught up in this. “What is it with you?”

 Ivar’s eyes dropped to his lap, where he was kneading his hand. He chewed his lower lip, and you could see in his face that this was hard for him, although you were not sure what exactly ‘this’ was. This situation? Talking about feelings and not having the upper hand in this conversation?

 Finally, he took a shaking breath, looking up at your once more. His eyes were wide and unsure.

“I.. I like you. A lot. I really do, I just..” he pressed his lips together, exhaling through his nose. “I’m a dick.” He finally said.

 “Yes, you are.” You agreed, quicker than you could think, quicker than you could even really comprehend what he just said. If he liked you, and still kissed you to test your boundaries, ‘dick’ was a good description for him.

 Your quick responds seemed to surprise him, as he gaped at you for a moment, before he collected himself again. Pursing his lips, he raised his eyebrows.

“Well, to be frank, I did not expect you to agree with me so easily on that.”

 You would have laughed, if the situation had not been so tense. So you just rolled your eyes, turning away from him again, your hand massaging the bridge of your nose. This man, by the gods..

 “How could I not agree, when it is completely true, Ivar?” you started. “You are a dick, and you are rude and angry and to be honest, sometimes I really wonder why I keep working for you, when you ignore me, bark at me, or command me around like a dog sometimes.” You sighed. Even if you liked the work, Ivar was not an easy boss, even if you knew how to navigate his moods.

 “Then why are you still working for me?” his voice was low, and you heard a mixture of wonder and interest in it.

 “Because..” you closed your eyes, shaking your head slightly.

 You could just lie, of course, saying that the pay was just too good, and that this job would do so well in your resume. But whatever had happened tonight had already certainly destroyed your work relationship with the youngest Lothbrok, everything from the kiss to your rude words. Telling him the truth now and looking for something else in the morning would probably be the best option.

 “Because you are cunning and smart and witty and funny and kind, and you were so lenient with me when I was stressed out because of uni. Working for you is maybe the most exciting and most interesting thing I have ever done in my life. I have never met anyone like you, and I am just so.. so fascinated, I-“ but you were stopped in your ramblings, when you felt a strong arm wrap itself around your waist, pulling you down into Ivar’s lap once more.

 Your breath hitched in your throat when he pulled you against his firm chest, feeling his warm breath against your neck.

 “You really mean that?” it was almost a whisper against your skin, as you felt Ivar’s soft lips at your ear, not kissing, just slowly moving along it.

 “Yes.” You managed to say, although your voice was odd. “Yes.. I mean that. And yes, I want you. And if that gets me fired now, so be it.”

 Ivar did not answer, and before you could say anything else, you felt a hand on your cheek, turning your face over to him. His lips were on yours a moment later, kissing you again, though this time not shy and slow, no. This time the kiss was passionate, almost forceful and desperate. You gasped out of surprise, what Ivar took as an invitation to deepen the kiss even more with his tongue, one of his hands on your hips to try and turn you to your side, while the other one wandered into your neck, pulling you even closer to him.

 A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, want rising inside of you and making your feel dizzy. You were glad to be sitting in this moment, as you would not trust your weak knees to hold you up right now. Absently you toed off the shoe you had put on minutes before, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

 Your hands went back into Ivar’s neck, pulling him closer as you moved to be in a bit more comfortable position, the shifting of your body in his lap causing the man to groan into your mouth.

 You had completely lost track of what was going on, and frankly with his strong hands around you, his firm body beneath you and his skilled lips pressed against yours, you also did not really care anymore. Who cared if you still had your job after this? Who cared what was going to happen? All that was important now was right there in front of you.

 Ivar broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours while he was breathing hard against your lips. His hand was absently stroking over your hip, the other one caressing your cheek, as he licked his red lips, his beautiful eyes still closed.

 Outside the window the sun was slowly setting, the warm orange light creating deep shadows in the apartment.

 “Do you.. do you want to move somewhere.. more comfortable?” Ivar asked breathlessly and a bit hesitantly and shy. Still, his voice was much firmer than just a few minutes earlier.

 As much as you enjoyed being this impossibly close to Ivar, you sadly had to admit that balancing on his wheelchair, so close to his front door, was not the most romantic position you could imagine.

 You just nodded slowly, holding onto his neck a bit tighter when he carefully let go of your body, lowering his hands to grab the wheels of his chair. He rolled backwards and away from the door, before turning around.

 Ivar placed a quick, but firm kiss onto your lips, almost feeling like a promise to you, before he leaned back a bit to see where he was going, starting to move again. It was a bit awkward for you like that, as you did not really know what to do with yourself, unsure if you should get up, or if that would ruin the moment. Instead, you just held on, lowering your head slightly out of the way, and placing small kisses on Ivar’s strong neck. You heard his breath hitch slightly in his throat.

 A few moments later you felt the wheelchair stop, but before you even had the chance to look up from Ivar’s neck, you felt his hands around your waist, pushing you off his lap and causing you to fall off. But instead of hitting the hard, marble floor of his apartment, you landed straight on the soft furs covering the mattress of his bed.

The bed itself was quite low, maybe only thirty or so centimetres of the ground, surrounded by many furs and carpets and covered in soft beige and white woollen blankets. Truly a very Scandinavian aesthetic.

 Still shocked you looked up at Ivar, who had a very amused smirk on his face. The shyness seemed to be entirely gone now, and a shiver ran down your spine and straight in between your legs, as he just sat there, mustering you lying on his bed.

 “What a view.” He said, tilting his head.

 Your breath was shaking as you exhaled slowly, watching him as he moved his chair away from the bed and off the many furs surrounding it. He heaved himself off, lowering himself to the floor, before pulling his body across the ground back towards you, and crawling over the furs and onto the bed like a snake. He towered over you with a grin, like a predator who had just managed to catch his prey, that he had watched for so long.

 How something so intimidating could be this sexy and attractive, you did not know. The expression of the man above you made you freeze like a deer in the headlights, unable to move, while your body wanted nothing more than for him to touch you.

 His blue eyes were locked with yours, as he started to slowly, very slowly lower his body onto yours, his strong arms on either side of your head. He didn’t break eye contact for even a second, and you had to bite your lower lip, staring back at him. He smirked, noticing your expression, this devilish, intense smirk that made your head spin.

 A moment later his lips were on yours, which suddenly seemed to break the spell he had cast over you. Your hands shot up and moved into the back of his neck, before they started to wander over his strong, muscular shoulders, down his chest and sides. Your fingers slipped under the hem of his grey shirt, finally able to touch the hot, smooth skin of his upper body. At your touch, you felt Ivar’s muscles flex, before he relaxed again. You smiled into the kiss.

 “Your hands are cold..” Ivar murmured against your lips, before he broke the kiss, only to move his mouth along your jaw and neck, kissing and biting the soft skin there. One of his hands started to travel down the side of your body, resting at your waist.

 His fingers left a burning trail on your skin, his touch enticing you even more, making a ball of ‘want’ grow inside of you. You felt hot, wanting nothing more than to get out of your clothes, wanting to feel Ivar’s hot skin against yours.

 Ivar sighed, as he kissed up your neck again, lightly nipping at your earlobe, before his hand started to move again, traveling down further, before pulling your thigh up, putting your leg around his hips. You gasped loudly, when he pressed down his hips, and you felt him harden against you. Grinning against your skin, Ivar repeated the movement, again and again, causing you to throw your head back into the soft furs underneath you, your fingers digging themselves into his heated skin.

 A second later Ivar was kissing you again, deeply and passionately, and you lost every sense of time, every sense of where you were. All that was important now was Ivar, his lips, his body. Nothing else.

 “Move up the bed.” Ivar positively growled into your ear, after he had broken the kiss again, sending another shiver down your spine that pooled right between your legs. His voice was low, and his teeth once again scratched over your earlobe.

 You quickly nodded, opening your eyes and looking up at Ivar, who had not lost the intense expression in is far too blue eyes. He propped himself up a bit more, so you could slip out from underneath his body, scurrying up the bed until your head reached one of the man’s many pillows.

 Ivar watched you like a hawk through hooded eyelids, licking over his lips absent minded. Then, however, he pulled out his phone, the sudden illumination causing you to notice how far the sun had already set. It was not dark yet, not entirely, but it had gotten harder to see.

Ivar’s brows were furrowed as his thumb moved over the screen, when suddenly a dozen small, almost orange lights went on all over the apartment, like small candles, tinting the loft in a soft, comfortable light, easy on the eyes.

 Ivar looked back at you again with a smirk.

“Thought that would be a bit more..” he started, but stopped himself.

 “Romantic?” you raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled.

 “Something like that.” Ivar pressed the power button on his phone, the screen turning dark, before he carelessly tossed the device to the side, where it came to stop on some fur lying on the floor.

 His full attention was on you again, and just like before, he started to move his body, crawling up the bed like a snake. He was over you in a second, his lips immediately finding yours, pulling you in yet another deep kiss that made your head spin.

 Suddenly, Ivar turned the two of you, pulling you up, so that you were above him now, straddling his thighs. You gaped at him for a moment, full of surprise, but he just grinned, now using both of his hands to wander along your body. Slowly he started to undress you, freeing your torso from your top, his eyes studying every centimetre of uncovered skin like a piece of art. Demanding equality, you also moved your hands underneath his shirt, pushing it up his body until Ivar sat up with a smirk, grabbing his t-shirt at the back of his neck, and pulling it off in one swift move. Once the garment had been thrown onto the floor, you were provided by an amazing view of his muscular upper body, with large tattoos covering his back, shoulders and chest. Intricate knot work, medieval motives, which just fitted him and his character so well.

 Your lips found his, and this time the kiss was a bit softer, although just as passionate as the ones before. You broke apart again, and Ivar’s hungry eyes ran over your body, before he grabbed you by your thighs, pulling you even closer towards him, his hot mouth connecting to your neck. He kissed and bit his way downwards, along your collarbone, finally reaching your breasts.  

 One of Ivar’s hands reached around you, unclasping your bra, while the other one pulled down the straps, quickly removing the disruptive piece of fabric from your body.

 You dropped your head into your neck, when you felt his lips on your heated skin, kissing over your now exposed breasts, your hands caressing his shoulders, your nails lightly digging into his firm muscles. You were lost in the sensation, and it was hard to form even one coherent thought.

 His mouth finally found your nipple, his lips wrapping around it and kissing your sensitive skin, causing you to moan lowly, while his other hand moved up your side, stroking over your torso until it cupped your other breasts, massaging is lightly.

Hearing the sound that escaped your throat, Ivar tensed, his hip bucking up into you as his free hand, still around your waist, pulled you down, now making you moan even louder, as you felt his hard member against your centre once again.

 Ivar groaned against your skin, teeth slightly scratching over your nipple, making your head spin.

“Gods, I want you..” You heard him murmur, his breath fast and ragged.

 Before you could really react to his words, Ivar had both hands on your waist again, rolling the two of you over to he was hovering above you, his lips crashing into yours forcefully in the most intense kiss you probably ever had. It was all lips, teeth and tongue, taking your breath away as Ivar positively ravished your mouth, his hands moving all over you, until finally they moved to open the fastening of your trousers.

 You got impatient, not able to wait to get the rest of the clothes off your body, and off Ivar’s body for that matter, everything inside of you just yearning for this man, the tight coil of want forming in your midst riving you insane.

 Your hands wandered along Ivar’s torso, your fingers mapping out the shape of his muscles, until you reached the hem of his black jeans. With one hand you stroke along his skin, while the other one simply slipped beneath the waistband at the front of his body, shamelessly grabbing his hard member and causing Ivar to loudly moan into your mouth.

 For a short moment it seemed as if Ivar was not sure if she wanted to intensify the kiss, or break it, but as your hand slowly started to move, he pulled away from you ever so slightly, breathing hastily against your mouth while trying to press small kisses against your swollen lips.

 His eyes were pressed shut, lost in the sensation, and his hands had stopped their movement trying to open your trousers for a moment. Your actions distracted him, and he seemed to lose himself in the movement of your hand.

A smile formed on your lips, enjoying far too much what an effect you seemed to have on him.

 The strong, powerful and intimidating Ivar Lothbrok, a ruthless businessman, with his face printed on the front of magazines, melting away right there under your quick fingers. What a sight, indeed.

 You gave him one last, firm stroke, before you pulled your hand out of Ivar’s trousers again, starting to open the button at the front of his jeans. This seemed to pull him back into reality, his lips pressing against yours again, as he kissed you with a growl. He positively ripped your trousers open, starting to pull them off your hips.

 Ivar kissed down your body, his strong arms pushing himself along while he undressed you, leaving you in nothing more than your underwear, lying on the blankets and furs in front of him. As if you were the most precious thing, he had ever laid his eyes upon, Ivar ran his hands carefully along your legs, a sigh leaving his parted lips.

 “You are so very beautiful..” he looked up at you through his eyelashes, which cast shadows onto his face in the dim light of the room, simply taking your breath away. Seeing him down there, caressing your skin, between the furs on his bed in what looked like candlelight, was probably one of the most attractive things you had ever seen.

 “You are the one to talk.” You said, sitting up and reaching out your hand, wanting to pull him closer to you once more.

 A wicked smile formed on Ivar’s lips, when he simply evaded your hands, before pushing you back down, and sliding himself in between your legs, his hands pulling away your last bit of clothing, carelessly discarding it next to the bed. You could only watch him, when his arms found their way around your hips, pulling you towards him with one, strong tug, your thighs now on either side of his head. You gasped.

 “So, so beautiful..” he repeated, before he lowered his head, pressing a soft kiss onto your centre, that was already wet with want for him.

 You arched your back off the bed, when you felt his tongue pressing against your most sensitive spot, kissing, sucking and licking, as if you were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

His hands were still on your hips, holding you in place for a moment, but soon started to roam over your body, stroking over your stomach and sides, wandering up and kneading your breasts.

 You could only moan, moan his name, while your hands found themselves in his long hair, stroking over his shaved sides, your nails scratching his scalp. He hummed at the feeling, his lips moving a bit more intensely.

This felt so good, you felt so good, feeling as if you had reached the gates of Valhalla, your legs trembling as your breath got faster and faster.

 “Oh, Ivar..” you moaned, throwing your head to the side, not knowing what to do with yourself.

 “What is it, dove?” you felt the vibrations of his voice against your core, before his tongue moved against you once again, making you moan even louder. “What do you need?”

 “You..” You managed to open your eyes, looking down at him.

 Ok, you had been lying when you had said seeing him in this dim light was the most attractive thing you had ever seen. Him lying between your legs, hands on your body and lips attached to your most sensitive spot, while his far too blue eyes looked up at you with such an innocent expression that you almost believed it: that was the most attractive thing you had ever seen.

 A shaking breath escaped your lips.

“I need you.”