#Hot-tempered Female Lead

[onlykdrama-com]

Into The Ring (2020) Hindi Korean Drama

Seo Gong Myung is an efficient and hard-nosed elite civil servant who can multitask with ease and is titled the ‘Number One Handsome Man’ on the District People’s Committee. However, he is a cold, rigid, and independent person who is deemed prickly and unapproachable at the best of times. Seo Gong Myung is guided by his moral convictions, which he staunchly adheres to, opting to do everything ‘by…

[selenitesdawn]

Temperance (Wanda's Version)

pairing: wanda maximoff x female!reader plot: Wanda didn't choose to fall for the girl her boyfriend used to bully in high school. But she did. And if there is one thing Wanda Maximoff is known for, it is always getting what she wants. No matter how. warnings: 18+ !! minors dni. wanda is with vision, cheating, stalking and heavy (mind)manipulation, possessive wanda, power-imbalance, dom!wanda, sub!reader, sexual content word count: 2700 a/n: this can be read as a one shot. however, here is the story from the reader's perspective: Temperance Masterlist

At first, it started innocent. As most things do. Sometimes a small puff of air is enough to trigger a whole tornado. And that was exactly the case for Wanda. It wasn't planned that things would turn out the way they did in the end. But let’s start at the very beginning.

Wanda had been in a more or less happy relationship with Vision for about six months when she found out about you. Vision's oldest friends Steve and Bucky were visiting when the conversation turned to what would change everything.

“Remember that one hot chick from highschool?,” Bucky had asked back then.

Wanda entered the living room just at the right time, serving drinks and snacks for the guests. After handing her home made lemonade to everyone, she sat herself down next to Vision, observing the conversation carefully. 

“Natasha Romanoff?,” Vision replied smugly, earning a side-eye from Wanda.

“How could I forget. I asked her out and after one date she said i’m too obsessed with my ex,” Steve remembered, before getting interrupted by Bucky.

“Which you still are-,”

Steve lightly hit Bucky’s arm who laughed in response.

“Heads up buddy, at least you didn’t embarrass yourself like y/n did,” Bucky tried cheering up his friend.

The memory made Vision laugh wholeheartedly, slapping his own leg as if Bucky had just cracked the funniest joke ever. Steve however didn’t seem amused, nipping at his glass.

“That’s still the one of the nastiest things you’ve ever done Vision. At least in high school,” Steve noted, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“What did you do?,” Wanda chimed in, her curiosity too great to stay silent.

Vision quickly collected himself, noticing the seriousness in Wanda’s tone, “Oh it was nothing, just read this strange poem she wrote about Natasha but-“

“Out loud. In class. After stealing y/n’s notebook from her backpack,” Steve added quickly.

“Vision what the fuck, why would you do that?,” Wanda questioned horrified, her face a mixture of upset and disgust.

She knew Vision wasn't perfect, but he was a good partner all things considered. However, they never really talked about his teenage years before, so hearing how her boyfriend behaved back then really bugged Wanda in a way she didn't expect. Vision on the other hand tried to play it down.

“Relax babe, it was just a joke. Besides, y/n wouldn’t have had a chance with Natasha anyway. I mean, she turned down Steve,“ he tried to justify his actions, pointing to Steve who looked almost as disappointed as Wanda did. 

“I can’t believe you would do something like that,“ Wanda mumbled frustrated.

“Chill Wanda, that was in high school,” Bucky rattled in, trying to defend Vision’s actions. 

“Well, he did do something similar in college so-,“ Steve started saying before Vision firmly stopped him.

“Shut up Steve.” 

That night Wanda felt like she was lying next to a stranger. Had Vision been a bully before she knew him? Did he have a side that she didn't know of? And what else had he done to you? She wanted answers, but of course she couldn't get them from Vision. But she was desperate for answers. And then it happened again. Wanda never did it on purpose. Sometimes one thing just lead to another. And that’s when she saw you in her mind's eye. How you stood crying in a corner of the schoolyard and how Vision ran after you to take pleasure in your suffering. How he cheekily laughed in your face. The pictures in her mind were vivid, like they were happening right in that moment. 

Wanda couldn’t sleep after what she saw, so she decided to get up and search for Vision’s yearbook. It didn’t take long to find you, the photo of you matching with the flashback she had. Her thumb softly brushed over the image of you, as she stared at your younger self. Then, a switch turned inside Wanda. You looked so innocent. So beautiful. How could Vision treat you like that? While browsing through other images in the yearbook, she saw you standing next to Kate Bishop in a bunch of photos. Wanda remembered Kate. They had met some time ago and back then they exchanged their Instagram accounts.

Wanda could have stopped right there. She knew what Vision did and she knew whom he did it to. But for some reason she couldn’t. So instead of leaving things as they are, she went on Instagram, searching through Kate’s account. Not surprisingly, she quickly found yours. You have only gotten more beautiful since high school, Wanda thought to herself as she explored each and every one of your posts, highlights and tagged images. 

At the beginning she thought that the feelings she had for you were merely compassion. Born from the fact that she felt sorry for what Vision did to you. Then, slowly but surely, the compassion started turning into admiration. The next days she caught herself searching for your other social media. And then she spent more and more time finding out anything about you that was accessible to her. Where you live, where you work, where you study. That’s when Wanda had to admit to herself, that something was brewing. At least partly.

It’s just an innocent crush.

Wanda thought. But over time, the quiet admiration grew roots, spreading relentlessly, taking up more of her thoughts than she was willing to admit. Looking at pictures of you wasn’t enough anymore. She needed to see you. The first time she went to the bakery you were working at, she couldn’t find you. The second time, she only caught a glimpse of you working in the back. The third time, you seemed to have a day off again. Wanda almost stopped at this point, feeling weird about her own behavior. But then, a few days later, Kate posted a selfie with you in her Instagram story. Seeing your face once again reignited a fire inside her that she was almost able to extinguish. But how could she stop obsessing over you when you looked so pretty? 

The fourth time Wanda went to your work place, she finally saw you standing behind the counter as she peeked through the window. You were smiling tiredly as you served a customer, your eyes revealing that you hadn’t slept a lot lately. Wanda thought you looked as precious as ever. Like you belonged in a museum, protected from the ugliness of the world. But then, she froze. What was she even supposed to say to you? There is only a single chance for a first impression. And Wanda wanted it to be perfect. You couldn’t find out that it’s a set up. So, she needed to be smart about it.

What if I just bring her to me? 

As the night approached Wanda checked your Instagram again and saw that you posted a story. A donation link for animals in war zones. Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. She remembered how her younger self would be so compassionate about the street dogs in Sokovia and the helplessness she felt from watching them starve on the streets. Now she technically had enough resources to do something good for them. And that’s how Wanda approached Vision, suggesting a trip to Sokovia for a good cause. Vision wasn’t exactly obsessed with the idea but after his dad suggested renting a mansion, and Wanda suggested taking Steve and Bucky on the trip, he was sold. A few days passed until Wanda made her next move, not wanting her plans to be too obvious.

During dinner, Wanda brought up the question she’s been holding back ever since the trip was decided. “Wouldn’t it be nice to invite Kate and her best friend? This one girl you talked about? What was her name again….? y/n?”

Vision who was busy pushing around the peas on his plate, looked up with a grin. For a moment there was utter silence, until Vision started laughing. Wanda however, wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m serious Vision.”

Vision’s laughter stopped, his eyebrows now furrowed. “You’re joking. You don’t even know them.”

Wanda tried to stay calm, her next words precisely calculated. “That’s not true, I met Kate at your birthday party in May. She even told me about this-,” Wanda tilted her head, as if she had to think about it “,-golden retriever she fostered. And she was nice. Besides, I can’t deal with this much testosterone on my own.”

Vision rubbed his eyes, considering Wanda’s suggestion carefully.

“Okay. Kate it is. Fine. But why the fuck would I invite y/n?,” he asked annoyed. But Wanda had expected something like this.

“Well, you have to make up for something, don’t you think?,” she replied confidently.

Vision’s eyes widened, then he laughed again, “There's nothing to make up for Wanda. Besides, why would working without getting any money from it be something desirable.”

Wanda’s demeanor changed quickly, Vision’s reaction seemingly triggering something within her. “I know it’s hard to grasp for your tiny little brain but some people actually enjoy doing something good and meanwhile living in a fucking mansion for three months.”

Then there was silence. The tension in the air was suffocating, as the two of them just stared each other down, both not willing to step back.

“I would rather choke than ask her to join. And how do you even know that Kate and y/n are friends?,” Vision spat out. But Wanda knew what she wanted. And she wasn’t playing around.

“I’m serious Vision. Invite her,” Wanda commanded darkly.

“You can’t just tell me what to do Wanda,” Vision retorted, his tone provocative. 

“Can’t I?,” Wanda hinted with a slight smirk, her head tilting to the side. For a moment time seemed frozen, Vision’s gaze becoming emptier as Wanda’s gaze burned into his soul. Then, Vision seemed to snap back into reality.

“Fine. I’ll invite Kate and tell her that she can bring y/n,” he finally announced, before returning his attention to the peas on his plate.

“Good.”

Soon enough, the first day of the trip finally arrived and the first official meeting  between Wanda and you took place at the airport. To her pleasant surprise, Wanda quickly realized that she had a certain effect on you. She was able to trigger something deep within you, without even actively trying. She only had to look at you a little longer than necessary, which wasn’t intentional but the simple result of weeks of anticipation from Wanda’s side. That was enough to fill a hole inside you that you weren’t even aware of. But Wanda was aware of it. She saw it in your eyes. And she felt it in the back of her mind.

It's not that she thought you were weak or naive. She just immediately understood that you had a weak spot for her. And that set something inside Wanda in motion. Suddenly her hidden desires didn’t seem far from reachable anymore. 

That same night she had sex with Vision in the room next to you, banging against the wall although there was no need to do so. Faking rough, loud moans although she wasn’t feeling satisfied. But you were supposed to hear it. And while you laid in bed, covering your ears so you wouldn’t freak out, your pretty little thoughts were so loud that it was enough to get her off.

At first she felt a sense of satisfaction from making you nervous. How you sheepishly tried to hide the blush spreading across your face whenever she smiled at you. It didn’t take long until she caught herself acting a certain way in front of you. Sometimes that meant swaying her hips a little more when you were walking behind her. Sometimes she would play with her rings when you were staring at her hands again. Then, one day, she innocently put her hand on your leg under the kitchen table. Just for a quick moment really. But it was long enough for you to slightly squirm under her touch. You thought Wanda couldn’t have possibly noticed. But of course she did. Suddenly it wasn't enough anymore to simply have you wrapped around her finger. She wanted to have you. To own you.

It was all about seduction at this point. Wanda gave you too little to feel hopeful but just enough so you would keep yearning for her. Her hands always somehow found their way to your body but disappeared just as quickly, leaving you confused and unsatisfied. After studying you all this time, she understood how to push your buttons. How to make you addicted to the feeling Wanda gave you. 

She wasn’t certain about how long she would be able to keep this play up. But the decision was made for her the day you drove to the shelter together. Wanda just wanted to trigger you a little. She knew how nervous you felt around her, so sitting in a fairly small space together without a way out was the perfect opportunity to fog up your pretty little brain a bit more. 

“Babe, I think I want to drive the Lambo today and give y/n a ride. Please?,” Wanda asked innocently, looking up at Vision with a smile, her arm wrapped around his bicep.

“Keep on dreaming, no one’s going to sit their ass down on the passenger seat, apart from me and you, Wanda,” Vision laughed, his tone patronizing.

In a heartbeat, Wanda’s demeanor shifted, her head tilting sideways as her eyes turned to a darker shade, “No Vision. Try again.”

Once again, time seemed to freeze. The others, including you, were just standing there with empty gazes as Wanda stared Vision down. Vision’s gaze drifted towards you, like he was searching for… help? But that is not what happened in your memory, is it?

“Um…,” Vision started saying, his mouth staying slightly agape as his eyes widened. Then, like nothing happened, his face went back to normal, “…sure.”

As you and Wanda sat in the car, Wanda bathed in the sheer enjoyment of overwhelming you. Your inability to say something, probably scared that Wanda would think you’re weird. When you finally spoke up in the middle of the car ride and wanted to learn more about Wanda, the redhead was almost unable to contain her excitement. She felt proud of you for conquering your fears but at the same time she feared for her own composure. 

So, on the way back, she didn’t ask you to ride with her again. And as she stepped into the car, she saw your bottom lip trembling slightly. She saw your sad face, your teary eyes. And she saw your exhaustion. That’s when Wanda realized that you couldn’t deal with this situation much longer. Back at your residence, when Kate had to carry you out the car as you were unable to walk to bed, Wanda made a decision. It was time to quit the act and get what’s hers. 

The next morning, she wasted no time. Wanda told the others that you’d deserve a day off and that she would make sure that you’re resting well. It didn’t take long after you woke up until her body was pushed against yours, your arousal dripping from your core as Wanda’s hand made its way to your most sensitive spot. After a short interruption from Vision who called out for Wanda to say goodbye, every boundary that had separated you and Wanda began to vanish. All the anticipation from the last weeks melted as she was finally able to get her hands on you without restrictions, owning every inch of you. After all the patience she had, she earned this moment. But the best part was finally hearing the words she had so desperately waited for. 

 “I belong to you, Wanda.” 

As the words left your mouth, electricity raced through Wanda’s entire body. The one thing she was craving, mostly unconsciously, was finally hers. You were hers.

Wanda didn’t plan things to go that way. At least, for the most part. It wasn’t her fault though, was it? What else could she do? She needed you. Even more than you needed her. And if there is one thing that is certain about Wanda; it’s that she always gets what she wants. One way, or another. 

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part five)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

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The moon is bright and the air is brisk as you and Rafe sneak out of the lakehouse and rush towards the dock, still only in your bikini.

The stone steps leading from the porch to the backyard are slackened and a bit slippery, so you instinctually grab his hand to keep yourself steady.

He tenses immediately, his hand closing as your fingers pinch around his. He wriggles out of your grip.

“Rafe, I’m just trying not to fall,” you say, irritated.

“Watch where you’re going then,” he tells you. You scoff. Asshole.

This is just like the other night, when he warned you not to do any couple shit. As if you’d ever consider a relationship with someone so emotionally unavailable.

“You need to chill,” you tell him. “Holding hands for a few seconds doesn’t make us a couple.”

It’s too much for him, being touched by you in an affectionate, non-sexual way. You teased him the other day for cuddling you and he hated that you were sort of right about him liking it.

Rafe sighs and decides to just give in, offering his hand to you. You cup his cool palm and he doesn’t squeeze your fingers back. It’s fine. You only need the stability.

You reach the long, planked dock and let go of his hand immediately, following him towards the boat bobbing in the water.

“How’d you even get the key?” you ask, trying to push away the tension.

“Stole it,” he says.

“Wait, really?”

“No, not really,” Rafe teases, looking back at you.

You roll your eyes and smile. At least when you argue, it doesn’t last for very long. Besides, you’re both here for one reason and there’s no need to complicate things with any sort of petty conflict.

The cruiser boat’s shimmering black planes are sharp and sleek and the only covering is a glossy roof on angled pillars. You thought it’d be more private.

You stand behind Rafe as he begins to unravel the rope tying the boat to the dock.

“What if someone sees us?” you ask.

“Let them,” he grumbles.

“Rafe,” you warn.

“I’ll drive it out far,” he says, motioning towards the boat. “Go.”

You step onto the swaying boat and settle onto one of the two cushioned booths beneath the roof, watching him.

Even in the moonlight, you can see the planes of his biceps bulging beneath his t-shirt sleeves as he works on the rope. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

Perks of being rich, you figure. He’s probably lived such a privileged, comfortable life.

When Rafe steps onto the boat, he flips a few switches and turns the key into the ignition. Thankfully, the motor offers only a quiet hum, not alerting anyone in the house upstairs.

He slowly shifts the throttle forward with one hand, holding the steering wheel with the other. He’s so confident, so in control.

You were already turned on from the way he propositioned you upstairs earlier tonight, but watching him is making lust coarse through you even harder.

He may be a jerk most of the time, but he’s hot enough that you can ignore it.

“Do this with other girls,” you tell him. “Trust me.”

“What?” He glances back at you.

“Apparently, a guy driving a boat is hot,” you say. You almost forgot this whole arrangement was supposed to be instructional.

Rafe looks forward again, his lips quirked in a coy smile.

He slows the boat down in the middle of the quiet lake and kills the engine. The water ripples beneath you from the motion of the boat cutting through it.

He loves that you don’t wait for him to come to you. You wedge yourself between the wheel and him, pressing your body up against his, pulling him down to kiss you.

His hands find your waist, and you reach back to push them down to your ass.

“We skipping the foreplay you’re always annoying me about?” he mumbles against your lips, fingers digging into your skin.

“I hate to give you any credit,” you say, “but you already kind of did it. When we were talking upstairs and you said...”

“You can do it,” Rafe teases.

“That you could make me cum in a minute,” you finally say, body flushing with heat. “Foreplay can start hours before we even touch.”

“Damn, so… you been turned on since then?” he teases. It’s so gratifying that the whole time you were another guy, you were thinking about what Rafe would do to you.

“Shut up,” you laugh, pulling him in again, your hands cupping the back of his neck to kiss him.

Your open mouths are hot, tongues tangling together as Rafe grips your ass harder and grinds against you. His body curves into yours as he kisses you deeper, his touches growing rougher.

He pulls his shirt off and his bare chest against your half-naked body is firm and warm. His hand slides up the curve of your spine and finds the knot holding your bikini top together. He pulls the string, brushing down the straps and letting the bikini fall.

Rafe ducks to put one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and flicking with his tongue, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

You throb with need as he licks you, taking in the sensation of the cold air pressing against your skin, his warm mouth on you, the boat gently rocking in the middle of the dark lake.

He puts his hand on your other breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple and your fingers find their way into Rafe’s soft hair, gently pulling at the roots, enjoying the grunt of pleasure you hear from him.

He eagerly pulls at the hem of your bottoms, mouth losing contact with you as he peels them down your thighs, crouching to get them to your ankles so you can step out of them.

“Damn, baby,” Rafe says huskily, taking the sight in. “Your pussy is so fucking pretty.” Your stomach numbs at his words. He’s been craving another taste of you for so long. Too long.

With his knees on the cold floor, he leans forward and flattens his tongue against your lips, earning a tremble from you. Your knees weaken as he uses his tongue to spread your lips apart, dipping between your folds with urgency.

You spread your legs and hike one up, resting your foot on the cushioned seat you were just sitting on.

“Good girl,” he says. “Spreading yourself open for me.”

You look down, moaning as he laps at you, taking in the way his eyes look in the moonlight, the way his hair is bunched between your fingers.

“Shit, that’s so good,” you purr. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

“I said less than a minute. Start counting,” Rafe says smugly. You giggle, amused and aroused and elated. The numbers sound weak as you start to mumble through them.

He starts to suck harder, slurping and enjoying your taste. Your voice immediately starts to waver and he pulls back.

“Don’t stop counting,” he orders.

“Four… five… six,” you continue breathily. Rafe closes his eyes as he savors you, already addicted to how you taste and how soft you are.

After working your clit, he shifts to shove his tongue inside of you. The sound of you trying to focus on counting while you moan from the pleasure he’s giving you is cosmic, out of this damn world.

Rafe continues to fuck you with his tongue, saliva starting to run down his chin, his nose wet from you. He moves back up to your clit, tongue flicking quickly.

“Thirty-four… oh, fuck…” you say.

“Oh, fuck? Is that a new number?” he mocks, making you smile and bite your lip as you tighten with bliss. You feel his big hand stroke up and down your middle, trapping your clit between his fingers and squeezing.

“Rafe,” you moan. “That’s so… fuck, that feels amazing.”

He smirks and locks his lips around your clit as he shifts to push two fingers into you. You clench around him and he can’t wait to be inside you.

He curls his fingers in and out of you while he sucks your clit, making you start to shake.

“Forty-one… oh, shit… okay, I’m…” you whisper, a wave of satisfaction prickling at your skin. He thrusts his fingers with more force, sucks harder, looking up at you as your mouth goes slack and your eyes squeeze shut.

Making a girl cum was always an ego thing to him. But he realizes that he loves making you orgasm simply because it means you feel good.

You unravel with a rippling rush through your body, fluttering around his fingers, bucking up against his face.

When you slowly come down from the climax, you pull your hips away from him.

“What number did you get to? Forty-one?” he teases. “What’d I tell you? Less than a minute.”

“So cocky,” you say, smiling and blissed out.

“Get on your back,” he orders, taking the condom out of his shorts before stripping the rest of his clothes off.

You settle on the hard boat floor, watching Rafe roll the condom on. You would’ve offered to put it on him, but he’s so rushed to dive into you.

You spread your legs and Rafe settles between them, pushing in with a quick thrust that makes you gasp.

He leans over to kiss you, swallowed by your slick warmth, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You tilt your pelvis up so he can get as deep inside of you as possible.

He pulls back and drives into you even harder, making you jolt from the force.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders you. You squeeze his taut torso with your legs, maintaining eye contact like he taught you. He’s gazing down at you, the starry sky shimmering behind him as he plunges in and out of you.

You’re so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect, that he doesn’t even want to cum, he just wants to feel the way you squeeze him.

His pace is fast, his eyes trailing over your face and committing the way you look when he’s fucking you to memory in case this is the last time.

The thought of losing this makes his skin burn.

Rafe’s palm presses at your neck, his fingers tightening around your jaw as he lowers himself and positions your head so that he can speak into your ear.

“You know he’s not gonna make you feel this good, right?” he mutters huskily. “He can’t eat your pussy like I can. He can’t fuck you like I can.”

This show of possession is just dirty talk, you tell yourself. But what if it isn’t?

Rafe props himself up again, gazing at you with his hand on your jaw as he thrusts in and out of you. How’s he supposed to be okay with someone taking you away from him?

You feel a cool drop of water on your arm. Then another on your cheek.

“Shit,” you gasp with a laugh. “I think it’s raining.”

He smiles while he looks down at you, enjoying the sound of your laugh.

“I don’t wanna stop,” he whispers. “Do you?”

You shake your head no and pull him closer so his warm cheek is pressed against yours. This is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. He’s filling you so nicely, both of you moaning and panting and laughing as the rain starts to come down harder.

You’re wrapped around him as he thrusts in and out of you hard and fast. The tension inside him finally snaps and he goes still before dissolving into pleasure, emptying himself into the condom.

He goes limp on top of you, panting against your neck. The rain is torrential and loud now, his back coated in water.

Rafe pulls out of you and you stand, laughing together as you rush to find your bathing suit top and bottom while he dresses himself, the wet clothes plastered to his skin.

You try to find shelter under the boat’s curved roof as Rafe starts the boat, watching him navigate and feeling your heart in your throat.

That didn’t feel like just fucking. The way he smiled at you was something else.

It’s late morning when you wake up, your friends still snoozing. You trudge downstairs and decide to enjoy the view of the lake that you didn’t get a chance to look at when you arrived yesterday.

You step out on the back porch, immediately thinking about how you snuck out with Rafe last night. And how you ran back inside, trying to be quiet, genuinely having fun with him. And everything in between.

You know it’s silly to overthink, but your mind replays what he said. You know he’s not gonna make you feel this good, right? He had to have been talking about Blake.

Was he jealous? The way he was smiling at you while he was inside you makes you think he does have a sweet side to him, that maybe he feels more than just lust for you.

You hear the door open behind you and turn to see Blake, adorably squinting from the sun.

“Early riser?” he gruffs, shutting the door behind him. You grin.

“You consider this early?” you say, checking your phone to see it’s almost 11:00. He chuckles.

Blake comes to stand beside you, leaning over the railing and looking at you with the same kind smile he was wearing last night in the hot tub.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, his kind eyes softening with concern. “It wasn’t too cold?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, remembering how hot and flushed you were getting into bed after your time with Rafe last night. You wonder if he’ll tell Blake about your time together. And if Blake will care.

“No, I was fine,” you say.

“You sure you wanna leave today?” he asks, his tone sweet. The boys are going back to campus tomorrow, but you and your friends agreed to stay only until this afternoon.

“Yeah,” you say. “Don’t you bros have to bond or something?”

“Don’t tell them I said this, but I’ve bonded with them enough,” he jokes.

After everything you’ve learned about Blake over text and in person, you can tell he’s a good guy. You like the way he remembers things about you, the way he always looks at you like he missed you, the way he’s always polite to you.

Rafe walks into the empty kitchen and the first thing he sees is you and Blake through the window. You’re standing inches away from each other, leaning over the raised porch overlooking the lake.

His stomach turns when he sees you laugh at something Blake said.

“Dude, I’m fucking shattered,” one of his hungover buddies says, dragging his feet into the kitchen. Rafe thinks he is, too, and it’s not from drinking. He grabs some water and heads back upstairs to lie in bed.

You eventually go inside after Blake suggests making breakfast together. Your friends and a few frat guys are ambling around the main floor of the house as you make your way to the kitchen.

As you cook and talk, you find Blake takes every opportunity he can to innocently touch you in some way, unafraid to show you that he likes you. He’s affectionate, unlike Rafe, who stiffened the second you tried to hold his hand last night, who will only touch you right before or during sex.

After eating breakfast with Blake, your friends, and a few of the guys, you finally head upstairs to pack your things and head home.

You round the corner into the hallway and almost collide with another body. You look up to meet Rafe’s blue eyes, his expression sullen.

“Hey,” you say with a smile. “Wow, did you just wake up?”

“No,” he mutters. His lips thin as he steps to the side to walk past you, brushing you off.

You try not to let his moodiness get to you. It’s such a sharp contrast from how Blake treats you. You’re not expecting Rafe to be a sweetheart, but you thought at this point you sort of had a friendship.

You make your way to your room, reminding yourself of how he was the night you met. Rafe is a jerk, unless he’s working on convincing you to sleep with him.

Regardless, the sex is too good. You’ve actually been gaining confidence from hooking up with him. You tell yourself from now on to expect nothing but coldness from him.

Rafe tries to ignore the cloud hanging over his head after you leave the lakehouse. He hates that seeing you with Blake pissed him off so much. He hates that imagining Blake looking down at you the way Rafe did last night makes his blood boil.

A part of him wants to tell Blake you’re still hooking up to prove a point, but if Blake tells him that he did something with you, too, even a kiss, he might just swing at him.

Thankfully, Sam seems like he was too drunk to even remember Rafe asking for the key to the boat. He discreetly returns the key where Sam told him he could find it last night.

Rafe realizes he just needs to fuck another girl. He’s been messing around with you exclusively and that must be what’s been screwing with his mind. He scrolls through his phone and finds the number of a girl he met at a party during orientation week.

The next evening, you’re lying in bed watching a show on your laptop when you start to hear muffled moans. Your brows furrow as you try to make out what you’re hearing.

It’s a girl moaning. And it’s coming through the wall you and Rafe share.

Rafe’s on top of her in his bed, instructing her to be loud, not sure if it’s for his ego or just so you’ll hear. He did everything you taught him, touching her and talking to her how you said he should.

It’s all working and he can tell she’s close and it feels good, so why the fuck is he closing his eyes and imagining it’s you under him?

After she leaves, Rafe gives into the impulse to text you: my bad for the noise lol

You reply: all i can say is you’re welcome.

Rafe: ya you’re kind of a genius

You: i know :)

You try to focus on your tv show. Rafe said you’d keep your arrangement up until you’re both satisfied. He must be satisfied. Maybe the night on the boat was the last time.

You’ll miss it, but whatever. At least it’s ending before your mind has a chance to spiral any further into dangerous territory like it was this past weekend. That man has two settings designated for you: he’s either annoyed or horny. You’re convinced he feels nothing else.

The next day, it’s late afternoon when you get back to your dorm after your classes. As you get closer to your door, you can hear a man yelling. It’s loud. And vicious.

You sigh, wishing they didn’t cheap out on the insulation in this building.

You quickly realize it’s coming from Rafe’s room. Someone’s yelling and Rafe isn’t saying a single word back.

Rafe’s arms are crossed while his father shouts at him. He’s trying to hold it together, telling himself over and over again not to cry.

He got a little carried away with his credit card recently. He picked up the tab for food for his frat brothers quite a few times now. Splurged on beer. Had to pay to tank up his car for the weekend trip.

Apparently that makes him a disappointment who’s not taking school seriously. His father popped by for a surprise visit just to lay into him about his spending.

You quickly put your key in the lock and figure you should just put headphones on when you get in your room.

“Is that what I pay for, Rafe? For you to party? Do you even go to your classes?”

You swallow hard. It must be his dad. You don’t want to pry, but you’re surprised Rafe isn’t fighting back. The quick-tempered man you know always has a retort.

Maybe he hasn’t had as comfortable a life as you thought.

“If you can’t take it seriously-”

“I can,” Rafe finally says, his tone agitated but low. “I am taking it seriously.”

You swing open your door and step into your room, but when you hear his father say “what are you crying for?”, you feel your heart crack.

(part six)

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[zae-heeyyy]

Erudition

Summary: Arthur teaches you how to read. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,790 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: I spent an unnecessary amount of time perfecting this one. Tried my hand at sketching/tracing/cut and pasting pieces of Arthur's original journal to make this one (don't look at it too close lol). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: If you didn’t know, it was common for adults to be illiterate in 1899 due to the lack of widespread public education.

erudition: the quality of having or showing great knowledge or learning; scholarship.

Poor Hosea had tried everything in an effort to teach you how to read: encouraging you with kind words first, then employing tough love tactics when your stubbornness hindered your progress. On one particular day, you had enough of each other. In a rare moment of weakness, he slammed his hand on the table when you refused to try.

"Wanna be an illiterate ninny your whole life, do ya?" A scowl etched deep lines on his face, and you stormed off, not saying a word. A cough riddled him, and he bowed his head in part frustration and part regret for letting himself lose his temper with you. He only wanted the best for you, even if you didn't want it for yourself.

A particular contemplative cowboy had been watching a short distance away, a pattern Hosea had noticed lately. Still coughing, he waved him over.

"Ah, Arthur. I know you're smarter than you look. Maybe you can reach that girl. I've done all I can, I fear." He pressed the book into Arthur's hand in more of a silent demand than a request. Arthur nodded in understanding, sighing, wondering how he'd been demoted from gang enforcer to teacher.

Cursing under your breath, you prayed that Arthur would just walk away, not because you didn't like him, but because you liked him too much. You and the other women got a kick out of watching him do chores around camp, his shirt nowhere to be found. He was damn gorgeous and didn't have a clue. Nobody else had a clue, either, that you wanted him. You wanted him in many ways and cared about what he thought of you.

The hope that he'd refuse Hosea's request or come another time fell short when his figure towered over you, shading you from the high noon sun. You kept your head bowed, refusing to meet his gaze until he tapped the book's hardback cover, bidding for your attention. Your eyes met his sheepishly. Reading him did not come easy either, especially in your interactions. Something about the way he carried himself around you left you feeling unsettled. There was a perpetual tension that he seemed to shed in the company of anyone but you. You didn't quite get it, though, because he always remained gentlemanly despite it all.

"C'mon." A sculpted, outstretched arm reached down to you, and you took it reluctantly, letting him lift you up from your spot. Following close behind, you let him lead you to the outskirts of camp near a boulder and a broken wagon. The cacophony of camp faded away as you joined him on the ground, your backs against the rock. You sat expectantly, concentrating on your fidgeting hands and fighting off the urge to cry.

"You just gotta focus," he said, opening the book to where you last left off and putting it back in your hands. Shaking your head, you tried to blink away hot tears building up behind your eyes.

"Don't want you to think less of me, Arthur. Don't wanna do it." Keeping your voice steady and suppressing the lump in your throat proved increasingly futile.

"Hush and focus." His tone only made the mystery of him hazier. How could he so easily switch between evil debt collector, out for blood, to nothing short of a gentle giant, so comforting and protective? The thought only made your vision cloud up more.

Blinking rapidly, you took a deep breath to calm yourself before reading the words on the page aloud. You could only get through the first sentence before your voice betrayed you, shaking unevenly, accompanied by a saline drop rolling down your face and onto the page.

"Hey..." Arthur clutched your chin and turned it to face him, forcing your eyes to heed his. "You gotta stick at things. I know it's hard, but that ain't no reason to cry about it." A rough thumb wiped away your tears. He scooted closer to you, wrapped one arm around your shoulders, and held the book with the other hand. "Just relax. It's just me and you out here. I ain't gonna think less of you or let anybody else, for that matter. Forget about all that." You held one side of the book with your left hand, and he had the other with his right, " Here, start again, slow now."

Goosebumps prickled your skin as a wave of calm washed over you. Arthur stayed patient while you composed yourself and read through twice, the second time outshining the first. He nudged you with his elbow, flashing a toothy grin. "See? Not so bad," he remarked. With another breath, not as shaky as your other ones, you closed the book and returned it to him, feeling more accomplished than you had in a while.

Now that your attention wasn't being spent so much, the pounding in your ears grew louder, the source of the sound leading to none other than the relentless beating of your heart. The musk of tobacco and leather infiltrated your nose, making you suddenly aware of how close you were to him. He removed this arm from your shoulders, the missing weight of it making you feel unexpectedly empty. Before he could scoot away some more, you turned to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Arthur, for helping me. I know I'm not easy to work with." He smiled shyly and dipped his head, avoiding eye contact. A silence fell between you, and you spoke again, dismissing yourself. "I should probably get back to it." You gathered your skirts to stand, and he wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could walk away. Even though crimson had crept up in his ears and neck, he kept his face impassive as always.

"When Ms. Grimshaw can spare you, come find me, and we'll keep at it."

So you did. You'd meet in the clearing behind the rock on the rare moments of shared free time, continuing the routine, and you were getting better every day. Then, Arthur brought you a mystery book that he'd found or stolen, and it was nothing like a Penny Dreadful, too complex and challenging for you to decode. You felt like you'd taken one step forward and two steps back.

And just like you'd done with Hosea a few days ago, you tried to storm away from Arthur. You didn't get far before his hands were on your hips, dragging you down into his lap. Faces inches apart, his hot breath warmed your face as he spoke, eyes stern.

"You can't just throw a tantrum whenever life gets hard, woman." Huffing in defiance, you opened your mouth to argue, but you closed it promptly, keenly aware of the change in his demeanor. Your eyes were on his, but his were on your lips. He licked his own, face set with resolve. Letting his forehead press against yours, he kissed you. Without a thought, you kissed him back, melting into his arms. Gaze intense, he tore away from you, talking low and firm. "You're gonna sit your pretty self down and do this, alright?"

Your hand went absentmindedly to your lips, drawing them in as you tasted him. Who knew a kiss was all you needed? With a gentle shove, he settled you back on the ground beside him, retrieved the book, and opened it once more.

When you finished, you looked at Arthur, and he was staring back at you with a cocky grin. It was the first time you'd read with no mistakes. You threw yourself back into his arms, climbing into his lap, a knee on either side of him. Holding you firm by the waist, Arthur didn't hesitate to kiss you again this time, letting desire he didn't even know he had guide him to you. He could have you like that for hours, and he did, only easing his grip on you when you heard pans banging, alerting you to dinner.

Arthur had discovered the key to motivating you, and since then, you discovered a newfound love for reading. You eagerly awaited your lessons, knowing the handsome outlaw's lips would be there for you when you finished.

Arthur was happy to help, but it wasn't just about the makeout sessions for him. Of course, he could die a happy man with you on top of him, but he loved how your eyes lit up when you made progress. He loved seeing you feel confident. He loved making you happy.

Though he wouldn't dare complain, he couldn't help the nagging feeling that Hosea had knowingly arranged this? Arthur tried to go unnoticed in his subtle observations of you, attempting to conceal the fact that he was sweet on you and had been for a while.

"Can't con a conman, Arthur," his surrogate father once told him. Maybe that wasn't just about robbing. The gunslinger wanted you so bad after all this time, needed you, and hoped you needed him just as much. He'd made himself free today, waiting patiently for you to finish your chores, keeping himself occupied with minor tasks. Just as you finished, you watched him disappear behind the grass and head to your spot.

You joined him; the book rested in his lap while he smoked a cigarette. You took the cigarette from him, having a drag yourself and giggling at your own mischief. He snatched it back from you, pretending to be annoyed but smiling nonetheless. Taking one more puff, he snuffed it in the grass. Before he could make another move, you took the book from his lap, replacing it with yourself. Your hands went to the nape of his neck, drawing his lips into yours. He kissed you back, entertaining you momentarily, but withdrew with his hands still resting on your backside.

"Read first, then I'll take care of ya', sweetheart." His eyes were half-lidded, and his voice lowered a few octaves, both weighed down with desire. You huffed and unmounted the cowboy, opening the book and reading, anything to feel his touch again. As you finished the last paragraph, your attention shifted to his hand kneading circles into your thigh. Breath thickening, his other hand fell to the hem of your dress, making it ride up as his hand traveled slowly up your leg.

The reading grew choppier now, your attention too consumed by his touch. You stopped reading altogether when his hand snaked over your thigh, and three of his fingers pressed against a warm, damp spot in the center of your bloomers. Flushing, a faint gasp escaped you.

"Gonna need to get these off, darlin'," he huffed into your ear. Wasting no time, you tossed the book aside and lifted your hips to slide the garment down around your ankles. Desire almost overpowered him; he wanted to devour you, to have his fingers and face buried between you, but he had a job to do, and he always finished the job.

Stopping, he moved his hand from your heat to your thigh and reached across you to grab the discarded book. Clearing his throat, he thumped the book, "Another page." Incredulous, you blinked a few times, gawking at him.

"Arthur, how do you expect me to focus when—"

He cut you off with a curt whistle and a stony glance, "Shut it, woman, and read." His grip tightened on your thigh. Those pools of blue and stern tone sent another jolt through you; god, if only he knew what he did to you. Like you were hypnotized, you opened the book, still very aware of your aching womanhood. He kissed your neck, his chest vibrating with amusement.

"Good girl," he murmured in your ear.

You were wrapped around his finger figuratively, and you craved to be literally, too. As you began to read aloud again, his hand smoothed over your thigh and landed right where you wanted it. He glided a finger up and down that sacred site, stopping on your clit and rubbing tiny circles there. Involuntarily, you arched up into his hand, and his name fell off your lips in a moan, your focus tearing away from the printed words at your hands. Then he stopped, taking away that sweet attention you loved so much.

"Shhh...Keep going;" his voice was low and deep, and he kissed down your neck to your shoulder. He moved his hand back when you started again; it was the most fluent you'd ever read. You don't know how you managed. As soon as you finished the last word on the page, you tossed the book and grabbed Arthur by the hairs on the back of his head, tugging him towards you and tasting him. He groaned and let a finger slip inside of you.

You gasped at the invasion, raising your hips off the ground and tilting into him. Pressing his lips to your ear, he kissed it and whispered mischievously, "You tryin' to get us caught?" You could feel him smile against your ear, and you pulled him to you once more, letting his mouth muffle your sounds of ecstasy.

He loved the way you felt, so velvety, slick, and tight. He teased you, pumping you with just one finger, then lightly circling your clit just to stop and caress you all over. You knew, and he knew, that he could bring you to that peak at any moment, but he didn't want it to be over just yet. He'd dreamed what you felt like for so long, how you'd respond to him, and now that it was reality, he wanted to savor every minute.

You were rocking your hips now, trying to feel any semblance of friction, trying desperately to reach the climax that Arthur kept you right on the edge of.

Then he sank two more large digits inside, making you press your head on his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut. He waited for you to adjust, kissing your ear and talking you through the girthy new additions. His thumb back on your clit caused a shiver to run down you as you relaxed.

"There you go," he mumbled in your ear, and you knew it wouldn't be long then. His thumb never left, keeping a constant speed and pattern as he worked you. Your stomach burned as that sweet, sweet tension built inside of you. Arthur buried his face in your neck, focusing on bringing you bliss. "That's it, sweet girl. Give it to me."

He groaned along with you as your embrace on his fingers tightened, and your body shuddered. He kept his hand there as you came down, relishing in the way your insides squeezed and released him over and over again. His head spun when he removed his fingers from you; you were so wet, all for him. He'd been so focused on you that the bulge in his pants went unnoticed until now.

Meanwhile, you had replaced your bloomers and smoothed out your skirt, trying to reset after the fireworks behind your eyes had exploded. You giggled, seeing Arthur give attention to his own building arousal. You beamed at him, all cheeky and coy.

"I think I hear Ms. Grimashaw looking for me," you teased, standing and dusting your skirt. His face fell bewildered, and you couldn't look at him in fear that your innocent act would falter. "Gonna have to bed me properly if you want more, Mr. Morgan."

With that, you winked at him and walked away, leaving Arthur with just his hand and imagination to satisfy him. You'd decided to join Hosea at a table, taking a piece of discarded newspaper and reading it yourself. He watched, a proud smile growing on his face. It only took Arthur five minutes to calm himself, reappearing from the treeline with eagle eyes that focused only on you.

Crazed, he approached you, placing a heavy hand on the small of your back before removing it hastily, remembering he was out in the open now. Hosea's eyes shifted between you discerningly. He coughed and gestured to the paper in your hand. "Well, Arthur, it seems you're a better teacher than me, after all." Neither of you caught the hint of amusement in his voice. You patted Hosea's shoulder and stood.

"Thanks, old man. I love reading now. In fact, me and Arthur are gonna go to town right now for some more Penny Dreadfuls. We'll bring you another paper, too."

Arthur perked up at this new suggestion and followed after you, practically tripping over himself as you headed towards his hitched horse. Hosea returned to his newspaper, kicking his feet up and chuckling to himself knowingly. His hunch had been right about you two, after all.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Sophia Loren (Marriage Italian Style, Houseboat)—Major Italian star, first actress to win an Oscar for a performance not in English (for Two Women (1960)) and later when Roberto Benigni won an Oscar in 1999 he jumped over the chairs towards the stage going "Sophia Sophia!!" because he was running towards Sophia Loren and said he cared more about her than the Oscar, that's the effect she had on people. She was big in the 60s already even though she gained a lot more notoriety after that. And I mean. Can we take a moment and just.

Pola Negri (The Wildcat, Men, A Woman Commands)—Legally obliged to submit her as she's from Poland, but also it is one of the greatest stars of silent film, both in Hollywood and Europe, so she has to be here. The og femme fatale and a fenomenal dramatic actress. And just so hot in this 1920s vamp style. Obviously her career slowed down in America with the introduction of sound movies, because of her accent and low voice. I'd say her voice is so much hotter thanks to that, but I'm just a simple simp. But then she made movies in Germany, and after the war she was even offered Gloria Swanson's role in "Sunset Boulevard'' but she declined. She was probably bisexual as after romances with Charlie Chaplin and Rudolf Valentino in the 20s, since the 1940s she lived with her 'female friend'.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Sophia Loren:

She has maxed out all her stats: beauty, elegance, sensuality, she's got it all. her mesmerizing eyes, her sensual mouth, her sharp face shape, her everything is so striking and unlike any other beauty in films. she was also voted the world most beautiful woman when she was freaking 65

im submitting her in honor of my dad bc she was the first celebrity crush of his he ever admitted to me and my sister :) and he was right. shes so pretty

OSCAR WINNER. Worked with some of the hottest leading men in Hollywood but remained faithful to her husband whom she had a loving marriage with till he died (even though Cary Grant almost tempted her once, it's complicated)

One of the most well-known sex symbols of the Golden Age of Hollywood, and unlike some unfortunate others, she seems to have been pretty well at peace with occupying that status. She made assertiveness and a tempestuous temper seem glamorous, and although she's famous for side-eying Jayne Manisfield's cleavage, honestly? She's one to talk.

Absolutely, drop-dead sexy, also a hard working, extraordinarily talented actress who didn't shy away from the less glamorous roles to gift us some gritty, memorable performances

Submitting this on behalf of my dad, who knows nothing of tumblr or this blog, but I remember being a kid watching Houseboat while my mom thirsted after Cary Grant, dad thirsted after Sophia Loren, and I was excited that they lived on a boat. Anyway, she's extremely beautiful and was an international star, doing a ton of movies in Italy before being recognized in the US.

JUST LOOK AT HER Y'ALL

Very smart and beautiful, the characters that she played (I mean those in the movies that I put in the previous question) are as strong and determined as her which I think adds to her hotness.

Global superstar and my late grandfather's long time movie star crush and for a man as quiet as he was, and as hopelessly devoted to his wife as he was, the fact that I know that means she was EXCEPTIONAL.

Big in the chest, snatched in the waist, pretty in the face 😳

Sexy, beautiful, deep. A real star.

Her performance in "Man of La Mancha" is just so very captivating. Dubbed as "the Italian Marilyn Monroe", she looks beautiful in any movie and at any age.

Forget the exotic sexpot of her Hollywood films and go back to her Italian career: sparking with Marcello Mastroianni as the woman who drives him mad and outwits all his fumbling attempts at macho posturing in their early films, and showing a tender side in their 1970s films. Sophia isn’t self-conscious about who she is or her beautiful body: she enjoys being herself and she wants us all to enjoy ourselves too.

She starred in films as a sexually emancipated persona and was one of the best known sex symbols of the time. She is a great cook and her filmography is immense.

On the misattributed quote that Sophia owed everything to spaghetti: 'Did you actually say the quote frequently attributed to you, "Everything you see I owe to spaghetti"?' "Non è vero! It's not true! It's such a silly thing. I owe it to spaghetti, no, no. Completely made up."

Pola Negri:

A tempestuous green-eyed vamp of the silent screen, she tantalized with both her onscreen and offscreen romances. Rocked a Polish accent - well, once there was sound! A true proficient at promoting herself and using all possible tools to do so - from a dead Rudolf Valentino to a cheetah named Teddy, the latter of which she brought to a press conference.

First European actress to be contracted by Hollywood! She survived poverty and illness to become The Queen of Tragedy, she divorced a count to date stars like Charlie Chaplin and Rudolph Valentino, then spent the rest of her life living with Margaret West in what could have been a romantic relationship.

I don't have much to say about her actual career, personal life, etc. but I just need everyone to see how hauntingly beautiful her face is. I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since the first time I saw her LOL like its pretty clear why she was such a star

[apneicodette]

The Compass leads back to you

Pirate!Scaramouche x (Female)Reader

One-shot

Warnings: none

You miserably sulk to the music at your engagement party, more so a ball, to a man your father had arranged for you to marry. Waiting for the dreadful day to end, you hadn't anticipated seeing a face of the past. One that you had missed dearly.

Even though the music was ever so graceful, ever so soothing. It still felt all the more suffocating.

It was a ball, ofcourse.

You sighed at the top of the balcony near the stairs gazing at the many guest waltzing about in their grand outfits. They were here for you and your fiance's engagement.

Away from the eyes of others you eyed your sooned to be husband, greeting the many alliances that he'll gain once you've married. Your father a very powerful man, the one who arrange this marriage in the first place, is a force to be reckoned with.

You'd would know, you were quite the rebellious child in your teen years. You couldn't help but smile at the memories that came flooding in.

"Are you that happy to be engaged?-" A condescending tone reached your ears. You watched as a familiar figure, one you thought you never see again, appear from the shadow. It was as if he knew you were thinking of him.

His violet hair had gotten longer, and his matching colored eyes gotten sharper. Though he had obviously matured, the boy you first met was still there. Your heart started to heat up, but you maintained your composure on the outside.

"And here I thought all this time you missed me" He stepped closer to where you stood at the edge of the railing. You could smell the sea on his dark brown attire paired with his infamous tricorne hat and the hanging bell he keeps attached to it.

"Scaramouche" you softly spoke.

He tilted his hat in response along with the smirk you remember he often did.

"In the flesh" he lifted your right gloved hand and gently placed a kiss. You allowed him to, and it had brought you to your senses.

"You shouldn't be here, matter in fact why even are you here? If my father catches a sight of you-"

"Relax, princess", your eye twitched at the name.

"I'm serious." You said showing your urgency as you stared him down.

He laughed as he gazed down the balcony as you once were mere mintues ago. You followed his eyes at a particular light blued haired man. "A Kamisato. Can't say I'm surprised at your father's choice."

"Ayato is a wealthy man, from a wealthy family. My father chose well."

Scaramouche's eyes grew dull at the words that came out of your mouth. "First name basis already, you must love him!" He bitterly said.

You tisked in annoyance at his comment. He knew. He knew you didn't love the man. And it felt like he was making fun of you for the fake act, all for your father's sake.

"What do you want. Here to steal some jewels? Money? A family heirloom?" You jabbed at him.

"I'm here for you."

What.

It took you second to understand the words that came out his mouth, that you hadn't realized you avoided his eyes. And how sincere they were.

You scoffed out in defense. "It's been a year since we've seen each other. And the last time we saw each other we almost gotten each other killed. You need to leave."

Scaramouche rolled his eyes at your dismissive response. "Last time, your father got in the way-"

"Your point is?" You cut him off.

"My point is, we had fun together. Don't you remember? We were free. Free from this cursed world, freed from people who tired to chain us down to their ideals"

You could see the temper in Scaramouche voice rising. (A skill you gained from the years of experiencing his hot headness). You forcibly dragged him, though he didn't fight back, to a more secluded and shaded area, away from prying eyes.

"Yes, because killing, stealing, committing crimes to get such freedom is justified" You sarcastically whispered.

Scaramouche laughed as he leaned in, playing with your hair. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy the ride."

He sighed at the expression of a kicked puppy you had on. "You loved the sea. The crew. Now look at you-

"-Beautiful as ever, even while chained."

You roughfully pushed him away from you. "Have you come here just to taunt me? Ridicule me?"

"I'm here to save you. Just as you've done to me all those years ago."

"So tell me-" He got closer to you, catching your arms to prevent you from pushing him away. "Tell me that you love that Kamisato skunk. Tell me that you love the life your father written out for you. Tell me that you don't want me. Tell me that you don't love me." He leaned his head ontop of yours. "And then I'll leave", he was desperate, and that's when you made a connection that things never really changed between you two.

You remember when you first met him. It was at the black market downtown, and you being a disobedient child had ran away from home. You just so happened to run into the most wanted pirate in the area, and he so willingly allowed you to hitch a ride in his ship. For a reason even he didn't know as to why.

But what you both didn't know was how much fun you'd have together. And oh, how much he brought out the bad side of you. A princess stealing?

Partners in crime you both were. You as the beautiful distraction, charming your victims. All while Scaramouche was in the shadows whisking away anything of valuable.

Though things got ugly. You had each other. And oh, how you brought out the good side in him. So much so that it terrified him. Terrified him so much that no matter how hard he wanted to run away. He couldn't bring himself to do so.

He always felt he was missing something in his life. The amount of gossip he couldn't escape from. A failure of a child prodigy. Unwanted by his mother. He started to believe what people said about him that he acted like it. A heartless fool. He created a new identity from the stories that his origins were no longer remembered by others.

A cycle of pain he found himself in, that he decided to distract by committing crimes against these high ranked individuals. For years he did this until it led him to you.

His heart.

"You know I love you." You confess, voice shakey as you were in the brink of tears. "But I can't bare to see you get harmed again because of my f-"

The second he heard the words he longed to fall out your mouth, he smashed his lips onto yours. Rough like his personality but the touch of his hand on the side of you face and waist were soft just as his love for you. You reciprocated the kiss. For how long have you waited to be near him? To touch him once again. Your were so lost in the moment you didn't noticed when he slipped out your engagement ring from your left hand.

He slowly back away, his eyes lingering on your lips clearly wanting more.

"Your a hard lady to please. You don't need to worry about your father. Where we're going is somewhere he'll never be able to reach."

If you thought your heart was racing before it doesn't compare to how much it was racing now. It was so fast you thought it'd rip out of your chest.

It was just like the first time you escaped from home. The same adrenaline rush was flowing through your veins. The thought of escaping had you wanting to laugh both out of joy and nervousness. And the fact that your now with him. Your wanted criminal.

"With that look on your face, it seems like I finally made you come to your senses. To think all it took was kiss to do so" he smugly said. "Should I do it more often?"

"Just get us out of here idiot."

"But ofcourse, princess" you yelped as he picked you up to carry you in bridal style.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

Scaramouche laughed at your spark of attitude His mind fluttered as he sees the girl he first met.

"Well sweetheart, we are going to be running. And as far as I remember you've never been a good runner" he starts walking with you in his arms back into the light.

"Yeah, yeah whatever, hey what are you-?"

Scaramouche throws a jewel you quickly see was your engagement ring down the balcony.

The sound of it reaching and cracking into the ground alerted the people as it reached the foot of Kamisato Ayato. To which he rapidly made eye contact to Scaramouche. You saw him flick his eyes back forth to you and him. He understood the whole situation, his hand gripping the handle of his sword laying on his waist.

Scaramouche smiled in a sense of victory at Kamisato's silent fury. You tightly grapsed onto Scaramouche's neck as you tsked at his petty antic. Guards charging up the stairs yelling out to halt and to surrender, both which Scaramouche will not do. Scaramouche took this as the time to start running as he secured the grip he had on you.

"You just had to get the last word didn't you."

"Can you blame me? He thought he could have you."

[abitohoney]

Bend and Break (Not Just the Rules)

Chapter 1 of 5 - More Than Just a Crush AO3 link

CH1 || CH2 || CH3 || CH4 || CH5

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Modern AU, College/University AU, Professor Sevika, Student Reader, Humor, Porn With Plot, Eventual Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, a lot of this is probably super cliché and a bit silly, but I don’t give two shits cause it’s fucking hot and funny, Drinking, Masturbation, Smoking, Teasing, Size Difference, Enthusiastic Consent, Dom Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Sub Reader, Light BDSM, Impact Play, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, (yes I like the emotional whiplash of both kinks), Vaginal Fingering, Strap-Ons, Orgasm Delay, Choking, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Aftercare

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: When a hot professor in your field of study enters your radar, you’re quick to jump at the opportunity to get closer by taking her class. Temptations eventually lead the two of you to bend and break more than just the rules.

AN: This is already in process over on AO3. Trying to catch up here. Dedicated to the sweet and lovely @frooopsen (who makes much wiser choices in life than our silly reader does here 😆) Banner used with permission from @gabrielsellesty. You can find their original post here AAAnd one more thing. If you haven't seen it yet, please check out @sevikascrown's gorgeous artwork of Professor Sevika here.

The first day of a new class was always nerve-wracking, but there was one class that really set your nerves aflame, just in an entirely different way than one might expect.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were the first one to arrive that day, and chose a seat closest to the professor’s desk. Nothing out of the ordinary, but you were rather excited for this class in particular. Not for the subject matter. Hell, you’d already taken the class the previous semester and passed with flying colors. But there was a new teacher that had taken over after the previous had retired. One you’d been dying to have a class with since you’d first spotted them when passing their office. Professor Sevika.

Though she was by far the most feared professor by a majority of your peers, known for her stoic appearance, short temper, and damn near impossible to pass exams, she was- at least in your mind- the most alluring woman you’d ever laid eyes on. She was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, only she also held all the softness and delightful curves of a woman.

So when she strode through the open door, her attention on the pile of textbooks and papers in her arms, you couldn’t help but beam at her. You just prayed she couldn’t see how your legs bounced excitedly beneath the table.

“Evening Professor!” you chimed.

Sevika, not expecting anyone attending one of her classes to ever arrive early, glanced towards you in restrained surprise before her signature scowl set back in place. She continued towards her desk without a word before dropping her books on it with a dramatically loud thump . Without looking your way, she murmured a curt, “You’re early,” and took a seat at the desk.

So I can have more time with you.

“Just excited for this class,” you replied, still beaming and hoping she’d give you at least a small glance.

She did, but only that. Her gray eyes peered over her reading glasses your way briefly before dropping to one of the textbooks she’d opened. A murmured, “Hm,” was all she offered you.

Short on words. That’s fine. Plenty to just look at.

You fidgeted with your pen, slowly clicking the button to extend and retract it while you let your gaze wander over the woman before you.

She wore a dark red button-up blouse that fit snugly over her chest. Though you couldn’t see it from her seated position, you knew she always wore it tucked neatly into her pants. The sleeves were rolled back to reveal a sneak preview of biceps that she could easily use to crush a man’s head, or a woman’s- specifically yours if you had your way. She also donned a simple golden chain that hung teasingly low, slipping beneath her blouse and most assuredly resting between her cleavage. Gods, you were damn near salivating at the sight of her. How on earth did the other students not see this? Granted, most of your fellow students were male, and you were quite certain your professor was only into women. Not to judge a book by its cover, but her cover screamed ‘LESBIAN’ in all caps and bright neon letters. Mind still wandering over all those reasons, your gaze rose from her chest to her face, only to be met with a narrowed pair of gray eyes.

Shit!

She caught you gaping at her fucking tits.

“Do you mind?” she grumbled.

Your cheeks could not possibly get any hotter as you fumbled stupidly for an apology- an excuse- anything to cover your shameful mistake. “I- I’m so sorry I-”

“If you need something to keep that hand busy, I suggest you review the first chapter of your textbook.”

Wait. What? Keep that hand busy?

Your attention dropped to your hand, which you only then realized was rather frantically clicking the pen in it.

Oh. Oops.

You immediately set the pen down and mumbled another feeble apology. As suggested, you quickly opened your textbook; Fluid Mechanics. Yet another thing about her that drove your infatuation to such a high level. The fact that she taught such a class- that she was that fucking smart- was just so… hot .

Try as you might, you couldn’t focus on any of the text before you. Your mind was reeling at the sound of her voice in your head. At the words she spoke.

If you need something to keep that hand busy…

Dozens of alternative endings to that statement rolled through your head in that low, rich voice of hers, none of which were by any means appropriate for a professor to speak to their student. 

Curious if she had returned to her task, you slowly peered up from your textbook, only to quickly look back down when you found her narrowed eyes still on you from over the ridge of her glasses. Good god did she look good in those glasses too! But you could understand why most of her students were scared shitless of her. Given her large stature, noticeably toned muscles, and a stony glare mean enough to put even the mouthiest punk in their place, she was definitely a scary lady. However, to you, that was undeniably attractive. Hell, maybe you even preferred your women a little mean .

So began your silly little crush. Always the first to arrive to class, and always the last to leave. Greeted her each time with a big smile and received at least a glance from her, and at most a succinct reply. It did little to deter you though. If anything, it encouraged you to keep at it. Urged you to try breaking through that rock-hard exterior of hers. To find a weak point and grab her attention and approval. You started asking more and more questions during class- questions you already knew the answers to. You were the only student to excitedly raise their hand at any of her difficult questions. Surely she’d be fond of a student so engaged, eager to learn, and capable of proving they have learned.

It wasn’t until nearly halfway through the semester that you had the sudden realization that this had become something more than just a crush. That this had turned into a dangerous infatuation. One incident, in particular, became the real eye-opener. But, by that point, you were too far gone to go back.

In your typical seat front and center, you found yourself struggling to focus on the lecture. Not because it was boring or old news to you, but because Professor Sevika had apparently been rather warm that day, having undone one extra button on her blouse. Try as you might to keep your eyes locked on hers as she lectured, your attention repeatedly fell to the bit of cleavage revealed and the shiny gold chain that rested between it.

Her words quickly started to blur together as your mind drifted into a daydream. A fantasy .

Your eyelids eventually grew heavy as your surroundings began to blur and fade until it was only you and your professor in the room.

In your mind, she was no longer giving a lecture. She was speaking directly to you.

You couldn't quite make out what exactly she said, just the sound of her deep, sexy voice. You licked your lips as you watched hers move when she spoke. They looked so dark, soft, and… kissable .

She walked around the front of her desk to lean back against it, gray eyes on you as she spoke.

Your gaze drifted down to her legs, covered in the most deliciously tight gray slacks. They hugged literally the full length of her legs- from her toned calves to her thick thighs. Thighs you could imagine your head between. Thighs you did imagine your head between.

You could see it play out behind your closed eyes so vividly.

She sat at the desk chair, thighs spread wide as always. Her scowl quickly faded into a cocky smirk as she peered down at you from where you knelt between her legs. You eagerly, but obediently, waited for her approval to touch her. She ran the back of her hand- her so delightfully large hand- gently across your cheek. “Such a good girl. So patient,” she said softly. The praise left you rubbing your thighs together, trying desperately to relieve some of that ache- that desire. She gave you a simple nod and your hands immediately went to the tops of her thighs to run along the muscles beneath her pants. If only you could feel the skin beneath. Your gaze darted to the dark leather belt that rested along her curvy hips. You weren’t sure why she even needed a belt given how her pants fit like a damn second skin, but more importantly- it was an obstacle. Something preventing you from removing her slacks, from getting to that rich, brown skin of hers.

Your vision started to lose focus and the image behind your eyes blurred until you found her thighs positioned directly in your line of sight. That damn gold buckle on her belt taunted you. It made your fingers twitch with the urge to loosen it, remove it so you could slowly peel back her pants and reveal whatever treasures lie beneath. Your half-lidded eyes drifted further down, to the apex of her thighs where her pants fit so fucking tight .

Then, you heard your name- spoken in that low, sultry voice of hers- and as if with a mind of its own, your hand slipped between your thighs to ease the sudden throbbing that induced. Your lips parted, allowing a quiet, soft mewl to escape. Your eyes slowly drifted up to your professor’s, and you realized entirely too late that your little fantasy had gone way too far. That it had bled into your reality and you had made a terrible scene.

Without warning, Sevika’s hand came crashing down on your desk. The loud, resonating slap echoed through your muddled head and instantly ripped you from your little reverie. You were thrown back into reality, hit hard with the realization that you were rubbing your thighs together, touching yourself beneath the table, and fucking moaning while ogling your professor.

Oh god, shoot me now.

“I’d like to have a word with you after class,” she said sternly.

You peered up at her meekly, feeling terribly ashamed, cheeks red hot with embarrassment. "Y- Yes ma'am," you managed to quietly squeak out.

To your surprise, she didn’t really look angry. Just… confused? Concerned? Either way, it did nothing to ease the nauseating feeling that took over the earlier pleasant ache low in your belly.

As Sevika made her way back to her desk, you glanced around the room. It seemed none of your classmates were privy to what exactly you had done, but all eyes were wide and honed in on you.

You’d need to come up with a damn good excuse for your behavior, but as your eyes darted to the clock on the wall behind your professor, you found that was unfortunately not going to be possible.

“Test this Friday,” Professor Sevika called to the class as she took a seat.

While the entire class erupted into simultaneous groans and sighs, you sat quietly panicking over what the hell you were going to tell your Professor about your behavior. How the fuck do you cover up the fact that you were touching yourself to filthy fantasies of her?

As the rest of the class quickly filtered out of the room, you slowly gathered up your items and stuffed them into your bag, all while trying desperately to avoid eye contact with your professor or anyone around you.

Once only you and your professor remained, you reluctantly made your way to her desk, head hung low and eyes on the floor.

From her seat at the desk, Professor Sevika simply peered up at you, brows furrowed. In complete silence .

You’re not sure how long she let you simmer there like that, watching as you nervously shifted from one foot to the other, but it was long enough that you decided to finally lift your gaze to meet hers. You instantly regretted it, because she then removed her glasses, drawing your attention to those smoky gray eyes, which she had trained on you. Any words you’d had prepared to explain yourself vanished. Poof! Just like that. Gone. Replaced with useless thoughts. Thoughts that would only get you into deeper trouble.

Her eyes are so intense. So pretty.

Thankfully, your professor finally spoke up, breaking the awkward silence and disrupting your trailing thoughts.

“You’ve been paying less and less attention in class over the past couple of months, and I understand why now.”

Your heart sank back into the pit of your stomach again. You’d been caught acting horribly inappropriate and you were about to get chewed out for it. Maybe even kicked from the class. Your gaze dropped again and the heat returned to your cheeks.

“I’m so sor-”

“However-” she interrupted, grabbing your attention again, “-you’ve been outperforming your peers. Your test and quiz scores have been near perfect. I’m… impressed.”

Your eyes darted to hers.

Did- Did she just say she was impressed?

You remained silent, just waiting for her to get to the part where she scolds you for fantasizing and touching yourself during class.

“I looked at your transcript this morning. I see you’ve already taken this class. Passed with the highest grade even, so I can understand why you wouldn’t feel the need to pay attention.”

Wait- what?

You tried not to let her see how baffled you were, but it was damn near impossible to hide when you’d been so damn sure the conversation would go in an entirely different direction. How could she not have noticed what you were doing?

“What I don’t understand is why you’re taking this class again.”

Relief washed over you. Not only did she apparently miss your little show, she also seemed calm, not angry. She even seemed… intrigued ?

Thankfully, you were able to come up with something quick-witted, because you sure as hell couldn’t tell her the real reason.

“I needed extra hours for insurance purposes, and I really enjoyed this class.”

She simply stared at you for a moment– and good god that heated gaze of hers was somehow both terribly unnerving and incredibly arousing at the same time.

“Your talent would have been put to better use in a class you haven’t taken yet.”

You thought hiding your shock before had been difficult, but she’d just dropped the second compliment in the short span you two had been talking.

“I- I suppose so, but this is my last semester. I don’t need any more courses.”

“Hm. Interesting,” she replied, and you could have sworn you caught those dark lips of hers pull up at the corner just a bit, but it was gone so quickly you weren’t sure if it had just been in your head. “Well, I’d like to ask that you at least pretend to pay attention so as to set an example for the rest of the class.”

“Understood, ma’am. Again, I’m terribly sorry.”

With a simple nod, she dismissed you and turned her attention to the pile of papers on her desk.

You left as quickly as you could, desperately trying not to look as crazy as you felt.

CH2 >>

[shepherds-of-haven]

How quick to anger are the ROs? Who has the hottest temper (I imagine it's Trouble lol)

Blade: it's actually quite easy to make him angry (or at least irritate him. Irritation is like one of his two primary modes of living. Grim unsmiling solitude is the other one), but extremely difficult to make him show it or actually "lose his temper." Like, inwardly, he's annoyed by a lot of stuff, but he almost never allows that to rule his decisions or make him act in a certain way, so I would never say he's "hot-headed"--just the opposite, he's typically cool as ice--but he also definitely gets mad lol

Trouble: he's definitely hot-tempered and gets mad easily (and starts swinging at the drop of a hat), typically when his pride or chivalrous sense of "that ain't right!" is offended. Sometimes this also leads to his getting into fights with friends, too. But in other situations, like if he were talking someone through a complex set of instructions and they weren't really listening to him (something Blade, Tallys, or Riel would find extremely annoying), he can be quite patient! So he's actually a mixed bag!

Tallys: um, I would say she's rarely outwardly angry (though frostily offended can happen with her), but deep inside I think she's seething with some of the most icy rage out of all of the characters? As Halek put it in Chapter 8.5: "Lavinet's got the build, but Tallys is fueled by female rage and hatred."

Shery: you can easily shock or scandalize her, but anger is almost never in her wheelhouse of daily emotion. It's mostly frustration (typically at herself) or mild offense, like she's looking at you like "I can't believe you just said that..." but she never really gets angry at other people or even situations!

Riel: crabby. annoyed cat that will bite and bite and bite you... verbally. try twitching one of his carefully-arranged pens on his desk so that it's not quite in line with the others and experience the white-hot fury of 1000 suns

Chase: almost never gets angry, about as unfazed and unflappable as a brick wall. stuff just rolls right off his back. even when he's annoyed, he tends to at least appear cheery and unbothered. on the extremely rare "three-in-a-lifetime" occasions when he does truly lose his temper, he's got a weird way of showing it.

Red: I think he tends to be more exasperated or frustrated like "nooooo why did you do that" than truly angry or annoyed. I truly can't even imagine him losing his temper to the point of shouting or losing control of his emotions, especially towards someone else. he is extraordinarily even-keeled

Ayla: extremely hot-tempered. jalapeno. she is probably the most "hot-tempered" out of the entire group because, while Trouble has more of a reputation for it because he's so consistently easy to prod, that's only because Ayla is new to Haven so she hasn't had as much time to beat him out 🥲

Briony: 50/50; despite her cheery, bubbly exterior, she actually has a quick-trigger temper and (like all of her emotions), it can take her over quite easily. This mostly applies to strangers/enemies/people she already doesn't like, though, so she's more likely to get steaming mad at, say, a noble who said something snooty to her or take offense at something a stranger said. The nice part is that, as easily it is to anger her, she gets over it and forgets it just as fast! She also has a seemingly bottomless well of goodwill, patience, and benefit of a doubt towards her friends, almost to the point of an alarming bias... like if a friend does something to her that someone else would find irritating, she's more likely to brush it off or not notice it or excuse it than to get angry over it! But she doesn't really extend that same patience to strangers, though she's trying to work on it! 😂

Lavinet: hmmm I would say her pride is offended more than she truly loses her temper or gets angry to the point of yelling, screaming, charging blindly into emotional situations or arguments, etc... She's more likely to be nettled by something someone said, not show it at all, and resolve to do something to "put them in their place" (like if someone carelessly implied she was backwater in conversation, she'd just be like ":) lol :) I guess I am!" while thinking about all the ways she could prove them wrong 🖕) than she is to actually lose her temper in the way Briony, Ayla, or Trouble would.

Halek: never gets angry about anything, ever, possibly because he's just very chill and it's not worth the emotional energy to get all worked up, and possibly because the blood-rage is quite enough, thank you

In all, I think it boils down to:

"Hot-tempered" (gets angry easily and outright shows it)

Trouble

Ayla

Briony

"Cold-tempered" (gets angry but doesn't show it, maintaining a cool facade)

Blade

Riel

Tallys

Lavinet

Not easily angered at all

Shery

Red

Chase

Halek

[volleypearlfan]

Ranma 1/2 Intro for Newcomers

The popular classic anime Ranma 1/2 is getting a remake. Ranma tends to be a favorite among older anime crowds, but it's not very known by today's generation, and since the remake will lead to a spike in interest for the Ranma franchise, here is everything you need to know.

Ranma 1/2 was created by Rumiko Takahashi, the same author behind Urusei Yatsura, whose remake recently wrapped up, and Inuyasha. The basic premise is about a young martial artist named Ranma who is cursed to turn into a girl when splashed with cold water, and can turn back into a guy when splashed with hot water. He is engaged to be married to a girl named Akane, who has a hot temper and bickers with him a lot. Soon, Ranma, both in male and female forms, attracts multiple admirers who try to win his affection, as does Akane, resulting in a humongous love dodecahedron balanced with comedy and martial-arts action.

Things to know:

Ranma pioneered the harem anime genre, but it is very different from the stuff you see nowadays, since his harem is pretty small compared to others (he only ends up being engaged to three girls), and Ranma is not a bland self-insert like modern harem protags. He actually has a personality, agency, and is not perverted like other harem MCs. That doesn't stop Akane from mistaking him for one though.

There is a lot of wacky slapstick humor in the series, usually consisting of Akane punching Ranma. Akane and Ranma both qualify as tsundere characters. They do actually love each other even though they fight a lot, they're just too insecure to show it.

Other characters possess their own curses. Ranma's father is cursed to turn into a panda; Shampoo, one of Ranma's fiancee, is cursed to turn into a cat, Mousse, who has an unrequited crush on Shampoo, is cursed to turn into a duck; and Ryoga, who has a crush on Akane, is cursed to turn into a pig named "P-Chan"

Although martial arts is a big part of the story, I'd say most of the drama and development are centered around the romance stuff.

Unlike other shonen series, who stretch out their arcs, Ranma has multiple small, self-contained arcs focused on introducing new characters or martial arts techniques. A complete list of them is available here.

The anime has a lot of filler episodes (as in, not adapted from the manga), but a few of them are worth watching. My personal favorites are Akane Goes to the Hospital and Am I... Pretty? Ranma's Declaration of Womanhood

Ranma has a huge LGBT following due to its gender bending premise. Many transfems cite it as helping them realize they were trans. The title character is commonly interpreted to be a trans woman, genderfluid, bigender, etc. The latter episode mentioned above is a favorite among them because in it, Ranma hits his head and starts acting girlier, even in his male form. This is notable because Ranma usually seems to not like his female form. Like other amnesia episodes, this doesn't last, but Ranma seemed genuinely happier like this.

That said, the series is also outdated in some respects. Look no further than the Tsubasa arc. The character, Tsubasa, was originally thought to be a lesbian, which disgusted the characters. It turns out that he's actually a cishet guy who likes crossdressing, which relieves the characters, but still disgusts them because of the crossdressing part. It's painful to watch.

The earlier episodes of the anime have lots of uncensored nudity (male and female alike), even showing nipples. This gets dialed back in later seasons, though. I don't recall Ukyo, the last of Ranma's fiances, ever getting nude scenes like Akane and Shampoo did. It’s not pornographic by any means, it’s just kinda there.

All of the characters are flawed people (except for Kasumi) who do bad things, some worse than others. This is what makes the series funny and interesting

There is a perverted character named Happosai, an old guy who likes stealing girls underwear. Unlike a character like Master Roshi, however, Happosai is not a good guy. He’s one of the villains in the series and is consistently portrayed in a negative light, since, besides being a pervert, he abused Genma and Soun.

There are technically two runs of the original anime. The first run ran for 18 episodes before being cancelled. Soon, it came back with a much longer run called “Ranma 1/2 Netto-hen.” The martial arts figure skating arc episodes were supposed to be in the original run, but they were pulled because of then-current events. The arc involves P-chan being kidnapped, and around the time it was supposed to air, Tsutomu Miyazaki kidnapped and murdered several young girls. The arc was later aired as part of Nettohen, but on the Blu-ray and on streaming, the arc is included as part of season 1.

Ranma had some of the earliest “waifu wars” in anime fandom. In the early days of the internet, people would go into “trench wars” on forums about whether Akane, Shampoo, or Ukyo is better it’s Akane btw

Ranma has a very large fan fiction presence, so you’ll likely never run out of Ranma fics to read

Ranma has a large Mexican fanbase, and it is very easy to find fan pages and information in Spanish. It’s popular in Mexico for the same reason that Dragon Ball is - it aired on local TV in the 80s and 90s.

The anime was dubbed in Vancouver, and you might recognize familiar voices from the Ocean dub of Dragon Ball Z, Inuyasha, and Death Note. Brigitta Dau was the first voice of female Ranma, but after six episodes, she moved away and was replaced by Venus Terzo for the rest of the series. In the dub, male Ranma was actually voiced by a woman, Sarah Strange, at first, but starting with episode 65, she was replaced by a man, Richard Ian Cox. Good luck trying to unhear Inuyasha.

Besides the anime series, there are several movies and OVAs, some of which adapt manga stories.

The anime is available on Tubi, Peacock, and Hulu

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

I really liked reading your thoughts on hypmic and gender roles!! I would like to add some things about hypmic & female characters :]

I like the way Otome is meant to have a delicate (?) image, but it doesn't make her weak (I remember when her solo Just do it released and people talked about how before they had this idea that Otome was more like ruler who gives orders to her soldiers in the background, but after the song it was clear that Otome is actually in the front lines, leading her army)

And Ichijiku, who is sometimes cruel, with this strong image, this is framed not as a good thing, but a front she puts up to cope with her suffering (not that it's wrong for a woman to have traits usually associated with masculinity, but it's bad when you are doing it for the sake of looking "stronger", someone is not weaker for being feminine, as it seems to be something she internalized for herself/she doesn't seem to project that into others so it's just an unhealthy coping mechanism that hurts only herself), we can see from the drama tracks that before traumatic events her voice was much more high pitched (her natural one), and now she uses this lower, stronger tone, to not be perceived as weak (which I think kinda parallels Ramuda speaking in a higher pitch when his natural tone is lower). Basically a lot of the times when trying to write strong women, authors will take away their feminity from the idea that "you need to be masculine to be strong", that wouldn't apply to any of our female cast, even to Ichijiku who does put up a front to not be seem as weak, this is not a good thing & she still has hobbies/likes things usually associated with feminity (but as an exemple of masculine women also being treated well, we have Asunaro Bojo, she is a tomboy but that's not bad at all!!! Good for her, and there is also Iris from rhyme anima, that I could say is not particularly fem??? Also good for her and her cool motorbike)

And Honobono, I think it's really interesting that, in a society that demonizes feminity, she uses that on her favor, her feminity being her main weapon. Also I like her existence as a contraposition to Hypmic's main themes about bonds/relying on others, the power of words to resolve conflict as an alternative to violence / she wants to break bonds, uses her words as a way to do that, showing how powerful words can be when used for evil

As for them making bad decisions, I agree there were times when it was for the sake of plot moving, I also think some decisions are due to them being flawed characters, just like the rest of the cast is (Otome is impulsive and has a very "now or never" mindset, but so does Dice, Ichijiku blindly follows Otome even on her worst decisions, but that's because of her trauma and it's something she has to work on changing, etc)

And I do think a shifting is happening btw them being antagonistic side characters to them being integrated as part of the main cast in recent times!! That being said I'm very excited for the upcoming stage play focused on the girls only & with 2 new original women, I will love to see what they have ready for them

Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts!

I totally agree with your opinion about Otome. Her "coldness" (like, personality-wise) is a good contrast to Ichijiku's hot temper, but neither are in any way weak or frail. And as you point out with Ichijku, this too seems like her way of pushing away her own feelings in order to process them better. (True gender equality is everyone failing to process emotions in a healthy way? lol)

I also get what you mean about Ichijiku and writing strong female characters. (I'm immediately reminded of this comic. In terms of concept art, Ichijiku could fit right in with them lol.) She's an interesting example of a trope I see a lot. In Japanese, it feels like "cute" (可愛い) and "beautiful" (綺麗) exist as two opposite ends of a spectrum, where the latter is associated with maturity and elegance and the former with youth and innocence. Fictional taller girls or girls with more developed bodies often lament that they're pushed into the "beautiful" role even when they identify more strongly with being "cute." On the flipside, shorter girls sometimes wish that they could be taken more seriously if they were closer to the "beautiful" side of the spectrum. Ichijiku is pretty firmly in the "beautiful" camp but seems to desire "cuteness" (see how she reacts to tea parties with Nemu, who is more stereotypically "cute", and cultivates a hairbow collection). Yet she reacts with embarrassment when anything "cute" is brought up, likely because she recognizes she won't be viewed with as much authority if she presents herself in a "cute" fashion. That ties into what you're talking about with the pitch of her voice and her desire to appear strong. It's funny how there are expected societal roles ("cute"/"beautiful") nested within larger expected societal roles (womanhood). If all the female characters were like Ichijku, I'd be a lot more "eh :/" about Hypmic, but as you say, there's a wide variety of presentations, none of which are presented as "weaker" or more invalid. Like Nemu--she's definitely a "cute" character but is written to have an enormous amount of emotional strength following her decision to join Chuuouku. This suggests, then, that Ichijiku is incorrect in thinking she can't be strong and "cute." Likewise, the female characters as a whole can be strong and feminine or strong and more masculine-presenting. It'd be fun to see more female characters who lean into the latter (I'm not going to pretend that Hypmic is bursting with canonical masc female characters) but that seems a bit more progressive than Hypmic is willing to go. If it's still at the stage of "femininity != bad"... I'll take what I can get, haha.

I love everything you said about Honobono!

And I also agree that some flawed decisions Otome and Ichijiku make are due to them being ordinary, flawed individuals. Which is a good, humanizing writing choice! When I said that in the original post, I was referring to the sort of decisions that exist purely to set up the main conceit of Hypmic. The "Hmm yes I think I shall spend our man!tax dollars on constructing a huge, expensive stadium as a trial run for a future government-sponsored sport. Let's kidnap two children in order to convince one of the trial participants to rap against his friend, which is the most effective way to prevent a coup" kind of decisions. Team Rocket-ass decisions. I'm not knocking this concept as a whole, because goofy villainy and contrived plots can be fun. Even in semi-serious works, there can still be a place for contrived plot nonsense; the audience is capable of suspending disbelief when the silliness is not the main object in focus. But when we're later asked to examine some of Otome's decisions and thought processes in a more realistic and sympathetic light, I have trouble reconciling the two concepts in my head. In my opinion, Otome can either be the shadowy figure behind the Team Rocket desk or a real person with complex thoughts and feelings, but asking her to be both is not a great writing choice.

Finally, I can't wait for the stage plays either. I hope I get a chance to check them out! The Hypstages are always super, super fun.

[bitter69uk]

This month’s Lobotomy Room cinema club presentation is Kitten with a Whip! Thursday 21 November at Fontaine’s in Dalston! I treasure this 1964 exploitation classic as an ideal vehicle for Ann-Margret, who I revere as a berserk mid-century sex kitten second only to Jayne Mansfield. After several musicals in a row [State Fair (1962), Bye Bye Birdie (1963) and Viva Las Vegas (1964)] which emphasized her considerable singing and dancing talents, Kitten with a Whip represented an opportunity to showcase the red-hot young Swedish-American starlet as a “serious” dramatic actress. And boy did she embrace it over-zealously! In fact, you could say Ann-Margret sinks her claws into the role. The film is like a mouse she subjects to a full feline attack!  Ann-Margret’s frenzied full-throttle performance as juvenile delinquent Jody is one long continuous mood-swing, temper tantrum or “glamour fit”. She is so genuinely feral using female animal comparisons feel obligatory: she evokes not just “kitten”, but “tigress”, “minx”, “vixen” or “lynx.” Ann-Margret’s cat-on-a-hot-tin-roof portrayal was savaged by critics at the time (the film’s commercial and critical failure threatened to torpedo her initially promising career) and then later more kindly reappraised as campy and so-bad-it’s-good – but in fact (in the tradition of similarly histrionic actresses like Elizabeth Taylor or Karen Black), she collapses hidebound conventional distinctions between “good” and “bad” acting. If Ann-Margret’s performance in Kitten is “bad”, it is fiercely, awesomely bad – and never dull for one second. (For me, her overripe, bravura acting contrasts beautifully with leading man John Forsythe’s wooden, strait-laced approach). Join us and see what I mean! Reserve your seat NOW by emailing bookings@fontaines.bar. (The venue will respond with confirmation. If they don’t, pursue it).

[navree]

ik you said you wouldn't do it can i have that comparison between alicent and daenerys pretty please i'm personally fasinated

Alicent and Daenerys:

Both got married off far too young to men much older than them (Viserys and Drogo)

Both experienced marital rape within those marriages (which leads to either thoughts of self-harm, as seen when Dany literally contemplates killing herself as a result of Drogo raping her every night, or actual self-harm, as seen with Alicent doing her nail picking thing, which is canonically a self-harm/anxiety response, while being raped by Viserys)

Both are identified primarily through maternal symbolism (Dany as the Mother of Dragons, Alicent as both mother to her children and also the Seven, which she is very publicly devout to, having an aspect known as The Mother)

Both have loyal personal knights who are obsessed with them (Jorah and Criston Cole)

Both have controlling older male relatives who use (and abuse) them in service of their own ambitions (Viserys III and Otto, though Viserys is significantly more abusive to Dany than Otto is to Alicent)

Both are pushing regnal claims that are seen by large swaths of people as illegitimate (Viserys has a proclaimed heir who is not Aegon, and the Targaryen overthrow is widely viewed as legitimate and just throughout Westeros therefore Dany has no legitimate right to rule)

Both are deeply attached to their children and their wellbeing (Alicent's actual children for her, and both Dany's dragons and originally Rhaego before he was killed in utero)

Both abhor violence done in their name (as seen most specifically with Alicent's reaction to Criston murdering that old guy and with Dany attempting to mitigate the violence happening to the Lhazareen, especially Lhazareen women, after Drogo sacks their villages to get her the Iron Throne)

Both have kinda gay shit happening??? (obviously Alicent has Rhaenyra, and Dany does have a sexual tryst with Irri in the books, although the consent issues surrounding that are A Lot and also it doesn't serve any kind of narrative purpose like Rhaenicent does, I think GRRM just thought it was hot)

Both have (absolutely kickass) personal themes as composed by Ramin Djawadi that have since grown to encompass their entire House/faction (Dany's theme became the dragon theme which became literally just the House Targaryen theme, and Alicent's theme in The Green Dress has burgeoned out to include all of Team Green)

Both have female rivals for supremacy who are, among a myriad of other similarities, attempting to pass off three bastards as trueborn products of their marriages (Rhaenyra and Cersei and quite honestly there are a HUGE amount of comparisons to be made between Rhaenyra and Cersei, I'd make the gifset but it would take me ten thousand years to catalogue it all)

Both have experience ruling nations (Dany through ruling Meereen, Alicent through ruling Westeros during Viserys's infirmity)

Both have a tendency to lash out in moments of temper (Alicent has some moments where she freaks out at Aegon after the first time jump, and Dany literally has to tell Whitebeard/Barristan that sometimes she just has a "dragon's temper")

Both have experience being the only woman in a decision-making room full of men, but still the ones with the most authority (Dany's council in Meereen is almost entirely made up of men but she's the legit queen, the Small Council is all men but Alicent is operating as a stand-in for the king and therefore has his overarching authority)

Both are well-loved by the commons of their areas ("Queen Alicent, beloved of the smallfolk", and Dany is of course mhysa and hailed as basically the Second Coming of Christ by the lowborn slave population of Slaver's Bay and broader Essos)

Both have a keen sense of justice (it's literally part of Dany's whole arc so far in Slaver's Bay, and I know people like to ignore it but 1) Alicent avoided pressing Aegon's claim out of fairness to Rhaenyra for a while, and even appears to have thought about backing off before she misinterpreted Viserys's final words 2) Alicent only turned against Rhaenyra after she felt she had been wronged and wanted to seek recompense)

Both have sexual relationships out of wedlock once widowed (Dany has her fling with Daario Naharis, and if the leaks are true, Alicent's gonna have a fling with Criston, which I'm fine with because after having been repeatedly raped starting from the age of fifteen I think Alicent deserves some consensual orgasms from whoever she decides to choose for fucking once)

Both have a propensity for forgiveness when it comes to their loved ones (Alicent was clearly willing to try and rebuild with Rhaenyra in episodes 4 and 8, and Dany says in her internal monologue that if Jorah had been contrite rather than defiant after she found out about his spying in ASOS, she likely would have taken him back, and she did take him back and flat out forgive him in the show where he was less of a giant douchecanoe)

Both have/will outlive their children (Rhaego is killed in utero and in the show Viserion and Rhaegal died before Dany did, and Alicent does outlive all of her kids by a good few years)

Both are played by supremely hot actresses

Both have super long princess hair that would be practically impossible to grow on a real person's head but it's a tv show and wigs exist therefore it's allowed

Both follow a trajectory from minor nobility dependent on the men in their lives for power (Dany as Viserys's heir in exile, Alicent as the daughter of the Hand) before becoming powerful and mighty in their own right (Dany is a ruling queen, Alicent basically is king while Viserys is bedrotting and is a pretty heavy advisor to her son once he's king)

Both govern through a lens of deep care and prioritization on what is best for the people (Alicent has multiple lines about always prioritizing the people and Dany frequently talks about how she wants to rule in a way that's just and fair for everyone, unlike her piece of shit dad)

Both remove old regime symbols from their areas of control and their own bodies once they gain power and autonomy (Dany despises wearing the tokar and uses it as little as possible as well as removing harpy heraldry and replacing it with Targaryen imagery, Alicent stops wearing Targaryen reds and asserting herself more through her own fashion choices and replaces some Targaryen symbols and those stupid sex tapestries with heraldry of the Faith, which is still centered in Oldtown where her family comes from)

Both have used false charm when dealing with opposing forces (Dany in her dealings with the various people defending Yunkai from her oncoming sack, Alicent in being petty bitchy to Daemon and Rhaenyra which, queen slay)

Both have engineered death and chaos through actions taken to protect loved ones (Alicent's determination to press Aegon's succession due to legitimate fears over what Rhaenyra and Daemon would do to her children creates the circumstances that leads to the Dance, and Dany's determination to save Drogo to the point of having Mirri Maz Duur use blood magic kills her unborn child and also leads to the violent fracturing of Drogo's khalasar)

Both have experienced what can amount to pyrrhic victories (Alicent's side does technically win the Dance but everything is still much worse off than before and there was a lot of violence, which show!Alicent is clearly trying to avoid, and Dany did technically get Drogo's life saved, just at the expense of everything else in her life, and in the show she did technically get the Iron Throne before being murdered like thirteen minutes later)

Both have affection and compassion for those who have abused them (Alicent is a fucking angel for being as kind and caring towards Viserys's ancient ass as she was even though he sucked ass as a husband and person, and Dany both was able to find a love for Drogo and also repeatedly talks about how she misses who Viserys used to be, along with her moment in ADWD where she hallucinates both him and Jorah and thinks on them kinda fondly)

Both experience a reclamation of power after seeing them at their lowest thus far in the story, complete with a visual transformation component (Alicent, after watching her be dismissed, raped, talked over, manipulated, and otherwise literally treated as an object by the men in her life, especially once she's married, asserts her agency as a woman in her own right with her own power, complete with the green dress, and Dany, after losing her child and her husband and a good chunk of the power she had thus far in the loss of the khalasar, along with having been abused and raped herself by Viserys and Drogo, hatches her dragon eggs and asserts her power in her own right, and in the books literally transforms visually by losing her hair as well)

Both have dead mothers who get no fucking backstory (we know fuck-all about Alerie Florent other than that she's dead, and Rhaella gets no interiority beyond being a victim of her psycho husband and then dying in childbirth)

Both bear strong resemblances to older relations (Otto says that Alicent looks a lot like her mother, and Dany is said to bear a strong resemblance to her ancestor Queen Naerys)

Both have four children, including one that everyone forgets about (Dany has her dragons and Rhaego, and everyone forgets about Rhaego, and Alicent has Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and Daeron, and literally everyone is forgetting about Daeron I think the actual show forgot about Daeron at this point)

Both are subjected to misogynistic slander by men in story (Dany has a lot of rumors spread about her once she conquers Slaver's Bay that are based in absurd lies about her sexual life and "deviancy", Daemon literally calls Alicent a whore, I guess for being loyally married for twenty years, just because he doesn't like her and then accuses her of murdering Viserys, who had half his face falling off the last time Daemon saw him, because Daemon is a fucking moron)

Both have detractors who cannot be fucking normal and not only hurl insane abuse at the characters and fans of the characters, but literally at the actresses themselves (those people who went up to Olivia at, like, a fucking bar just to tell her how much they hated Alicent are never seeing Heaven and that's a fucking fact)

Both, as queens and as people in general, want to do the right thing not just for themselves but those around them (Alicent with her aforementioned considerations when it comes to ruling and also trying to be just a good person to those around her, like comforting Viserys and Rhaenyra after he murders Aemma and trying to do right by her kids, and Dany again by wanting to be a better ruler than her father and freeing slaves even though there's no material benefit to her)

Both hav forgiven objective wrongs done by others (Dany forgives a lot of people who are cruel to her in the books, as well as Barristan Selmy after he reveals himself to be Barristan, and Jorah in the show, and Alicent is clement and kind to Criston Cole after he reveals that he broke his Kingsguard vows in sleeping with Rhaenyra)

Both are goodhearted people who befriend the more disenfranchised (Alicent is, again, fundamentally a good person as seen by how she treats those who have been shit to her, and we see her reaching out to people like Larys, who is mistreated due to his deformity, and saves Criston Cole, and Dany's whole thing is helping and befriending the disenfranchised, as seen by the way she tries to create equal treatment with her handmaids and the way she befriends Missandei, and her goodnaturedness towards the people who support her, especially the former slaves)

Both are interesting characters who would be so greatly served in the ASOIAF/GOT/HOTD fandom could, in any way shape or form, understand that fiction is not real life nor is it morality and just enjoy a story and its characters for the story and the characters

There's probably some more similarities but honestly this went far longer than I thought it would when making an offhand tag, so here we are, similarities between Alicent Hightower (primarily show!verse) and Daenerys Targaryen (primarily books but with some show sprinkled in there as well)!

[pcttrailsidereader]

Going Solo

There have been many changes in the demographics of who is walking the PCT. There have been dramatic increases in the numbers of foreign hikers and women hikers (see https://pcttrailsidereader.com/post/739558381630750720/halfway-anywhere-a-pct-gem) and the number of solo hikers. The perceived risk of walking alone has been tempered by the number of hikers on the PCT and the possibility of communication from even the most remote section of the trail (Jessie references taking an InReach in her story). And there are advantages as Jessie points out.

By Jessie Robinson Moore

“Who are you going with?”

“Myself.”

“You’re going alone?”

This was a conversation I had many times with friends, family, and strangers leading up to my six night, seven day section hike from Snoqualmie to Stevens Pass on the PCT. To most people I knew, hiking that far seemed crazy. Hiking that far alone, by myself, seemed incomprehensible. But to me, it seemed completely normal. 

I was going on my first solo backpacking trip as a 31 year-old female. I had done other backpacking trips with my father, partner, and friends, but I had never been fully responsible for myself. Of course I was nervous. Nervous about the unknowns. What if I get hurt? What if someone makes me uncomfortable? What about wild animals? What if I get bored?

I helped fight back against these fears with preparation. I carried a first aid kit, ibuprofen, and Icy Hot to help with aches and pains I knew would show up. Although I had an itinerary of where I would camp each night, I told myself it was okay to stop early and take long breaks if I was too tired and was walking sloppy. I don’t like to lie, but I practiced what I would say if someone asked me where I was camping (“somewhere past this [well known] part of trail!”) or if I was alone (“my partner is 30 minutes behind me, they got a slower start this morning”). I reminded myself that animals are more scared of you than you are of them, which came in handy when I saw a bear 50 feet away in the woods, walking the other way. It did not want to come near my hiking poles being banged together and fortunately, did not seem to have any friends or family nearby. 

And I never did get bored. The views were incredible (I was lucky to have beautiful weather), the climbs were challenging, and there were plenty of people along this section of the trail. I spoke with thru hikers that had started at the Mexico/California border in May, section hikers that were going the same direction or reverse direction of me, day hikers, runners, single night backpackers. There were stretches of time that I didn’t see many people, but for the most part I never felt truly alone. And it was nice to have my Garmin InReach Mini to communicate with my family and partner. I even made some friends that I hiked with for portions of the day. 

If you are a hiker or a backpacker, I cannot recommend enough doing a solo backpacking trip in your lifetime. You may find that you hate it, and you can continue backpacking with partners. Or you may find that you absolutely love being on your own schedule, taking breaks when you want, and being fully responsible for yourself in the great outdoors.

[asteroideaaa]

kilvan [kil.ˈvan] n. river

Genre: angst(with happy ending)

Netayam X female OC Omatikaya

Word count: 3.4k

Authors note: I promise I'll make more happy fics I swear.<3

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧

If I ever went missing look near the river.

“Look at this stone ma Tamìfa,” Nang said excitedly. He handed me I yellow stone. This was perfect for Neteyam’s necklace. I've always been a good craftsman. My friends and I would make breast covers for many women in the village. My mother taught me everything I know. She was one of the best beaders in the whole village. I'm so grateful that she was able to teach me beading before the great-mother claimed her back with my father.

“This is perfect. Thank you so much for helping me Nang. Neteyam has been so stressed with the training I know this will cheer him up.” I thanked him. Neteyam and I have dated for many months now. We swore to each other before ewya. Though it is not the same as being mated, it's basically the same. We are a mated pair.

“Let's go back to the village. It's almost eclipse and we’ve been out here since morning. Neteyam must be back from training. You should be there to greet him back. I wonder what the hunter has brought back for the feast?” Nang said grabbing my wrist and leading me back to the village. 

“I know the way you skxqwng.”

“Last year we lead a whole search party for you. You were so deep into the woods it took hours to find you.” Nang scolded. I knew where I was going… “And don't even say you knew where you were going. We all know that's a damn lie.” he chuckled wrapping my arm around my shoulder and pulling me in as we walked into the village. We made it just in time. I see Neteyam jumping off his Ikran. Our eyes meet, but he seems angry. I walk towards him trying to hold my posture. 

“ Ma Neteyam I’m glad you're back safe. You must be hungry please come let us go eat.” I say trying to wipe his scowl off his face. I wonder if today wasn't a successful training day. On days like this, he's usually happier once we've eaten. So I take his hand to lead him to where everybody eats.

“Not tonight Ma Tamìfa. I'm not hungry.” he walks away from me. He takes long strides away from me. My lightly smaller legs cannot keep up as well. “Ma Neteyam please come. You need to take care of your body. After we should go to the hot springs. I feel like we haven't had alone time in ages. Please Ma neteyam.” I say out of breath from him walking away. We are now at his muri.

"Just walk go away, please. I want to be alone. I've had a long day of men yelling at me during training. The last thing I want right now is your nagging.” my heart slits as I watch his throwing his hand in the air out of frustration. My neck feels hot and my eyes burn. I don't dare to cry. Crying will not help. Maybe I just need to give him space.

“I’m sorry I bothered you. I will see myself out now. Goodnight ma Neteyam.” I turn on my heels and walk back to dinner. I look down at my feet tears threatening my eyes. 

~~~

“Maitan you dare speak to your future mate like that. She did not deserve such.” Neteyams mother said fiercely. He knew she was right, but anger get to the best of us. The real reason on why he's mad is because you've been spending so much time with Nang. Nang was a couple of years older than Neteyam. He's more experienced with the way of life. That made Neteyam very jealous. Neteyam tends to overthink a lot, consequence of having three younger siblings.

“Sa’nu please I just want some rest. I've had a very long day.” 

“ Maitan im only concerned for you itan.Tamìfa is a sweet girl. You shouldn't lose your temper with her.” Netiriy softly said trying to calm him. She handed him a bowl of stew. Out of every meal created by the Na’vi people Hexapede stew was his favorite. He took one sip of it and melted. He quickly slurped up the stew and then headed to his hammock.

~~~

It's now dawn and I'm dreading getting out of this hammock. Last night I could not eat due to anxiety. It was a warm morning I could hear the creatures of pandora chirping as they got up to live their lives. My eyes start to feel heavy and I think to myself it wouldn't hurt to sleep in a little longer. My eyes shut and I start to dream.

I was having the most wonderful dream. Neteyam and I were flying our Ikran out in the night sky. I often have this dream, it is one of my favorites. The sight of him makes my heart swell knowing we will be mated for life. I can't help thinking about having many children. I want to have a family of my own someday. From time to time I think of names for our children. Neteyam has always promised me this for our future, but my dream comes to an end. I'm awoken by the Ikran screeching goodbye to the clan. I hop out of my hammock feeling the warm sunlight laying on my muri floor. I think to myself “I should start Neteyam’s necklace.” grabbing all my beads, string, and needle made of fish bones gifted by my mother.

Hours later of beading and weaving I've now created this beautiful necklace for my Neteyam. I look at it with great pride. I really do hope he likes it. My heart would break into a million pieces if he didn't. My thoughts are interrupted by the creaking of my muri flood. It's Nang he greets me as I do the same.

“Ma Nang you nearly sent me to Eywa herself.” I hold my heart out of fear.

“I'm just checking up on you Ma Tamìfa. Last night you didn't eat so I had my mother make you some roasted Teylu. I know it's not your favorite, but you must eat breakfast. From what I've learned the sky people say it's the most important meal of the day. That is probably the only thing ill agree on with them.” he chuckles 

“That is right,” I say rubbing the back of my neck out of discomfort. Nang quickly realizes. “That is bothering your neck ma Tamìfa?” he questions. “I spent all morning making Neteyam a necklace. I spent hours looking down now my neck is in so much pain.” I said sadly not knowing what to do. Maybe I should go see a practicing healer. I'm not in need of a matured healer. “We should go to the hot sprint. Come put on your bathing clothes.” Nang says persistently. He leaves my muri waiting outside to leave me to change. I get up from my seat and head towards my woven basket holding my garments. I decide to wear a newly woven set. It is covered in all shades of green and brown beads. Feathers hang off of the rectangular breast cover. As for my loincloth, it's dyed with dark green berry leaves. I attach my song cord to it and head out the door.

I meet Nang outside and start walking toward the spring. “Let us go find others to come!” I said excitingly clap my hands together. “That sound like the perfect idea ma Tamìfa.” Nang says patting the top of my head. We walk over to the Sullys hut. Before we can enter Nang and I hear arguing. We both turn our heads to face each other. “What did we just walk into.” we both say entering the muri.

“Tuk please maywe.!”kiri shouts 

“No! I want to go to the hot springs right now!” she squeaks 

“Tuk you have to eat first then we can you. Now please stop being a brat and eat. You'll never is a mighty warrior like mom. you can't even eat breakfast.” Lo’ak cried out of annoyance bringing his hand to cover his face. “Tuktiry listen to your siblings. Nang and I actually came over to ask you guys if you wanted to go to the hot spring. Now if you eat we will fly the Ikrans there.” I say in a motherly voice. Talking to Tuk like this makes me want to be a mother even more even when Tuks having a meltdown. While Lo’ak and Nang prepare Tuks meal I asked kiri to take out my braids. Now my hair flows freely with a couple of braids holding beads. “Do you want these feathers Neteyam found for me? I think they will suit you way better,” she asks in her very calming voice. My breath hitches at the thought of Neteyam. Kiri quickly notices. “What is wrong?” she says putting feathers behind my ears and attaching them to my braids. “It is not a big deal really. It's Neteyam He just got upset with me yesterday after coming back home from training.” I sigh “I'm sorry my brothers can be such asses sometimes. I'm sure he'll come around soon. After Tuk ate we left on our Ikrans heading towards the hot springs. Passing by unnoticed by the rest of us Neteyam and his training friends pass under us. 

~~~

Neteyam unmounts his Ikran and sits down bringing his hands to his face. Neteyams ears perk up to hear a conversation behind him 

“Did you see Tamìfa? She was with Nang again.” 

“She's been hanging out with him a lot maybe she's interested in a more mature man.”

“She was wearing a really nice outfit. Maybe she's trying to swoon him.”

Neteyam hated gossip but since it was about his soon-to-be mate he couldn't help being jealous. The truth is he’s been super jealous of Nang. Tamìfa and Nang have been friends before she even met Neteyam, But his anxiety gets the best of him. He tightly grips his bow and walks over to his Ikran to go fly to the hot spring. He knew you'd be there because he overheard Tuk asking Kiri this morning.

~~~

We got to the hot spring and immediately jumped in. now soaked I find a stop next to Nang. “I really wish Neteyam was here. We barely get to spend time with each other these days” I say saddened by his presence not being around. “Don't worry hell come around” Nang comforts me putting his arm around my shoulder to bring me into a hug. I wish it was Neteyam giving me a hug. We pull away from each other and he swims away probably to go talk to Lo’ak. My ears twitch back hearing a branch break. I look back to see Neteyam, my Neteyam. 

“Neteyam what are you doing here I thought you had training?”

“I got off early.”

“Do you want to hang out with us? I feel like we haven’t hung out in weeks. Come in the water it's nice and warm it will relax your muscles. I have a gift for you. I say excitingly pulling his necklace out. Im soon interrupted by his words.

“Why are you always hanging out with Nang these days ma Tamìfa? Every time you're around he follows like he's lost,” he questions me. We've never really had a problem like this before. He seems to be really upset with me. That is the last thing I want right now.

“Nang? He’s one of my longest friends ma Neteyam.”

“Friends don't hug as much as he does.”

“You're being unreasonable ma Neteyam. He keeps me company when you're away. These past few months you've barely paid any attention to me.” 

“You know what I'm just gonna leave. Nang can have you. Since he has so much time for you.” I didn't want him to go. What did he mean Nang could have me? Nang already has a mate. They mated a few months ago.

“Ma Neteyam please don’t go. I want you.” I cry tears now burning my skin falling down my face. What did I do wrong? I thought I was doing everything right. I made sure he ate, healed his wounds, and gave him nothing but support. Now he's leaving me. I watch him walk away ignoring my last words. My heart is broken into a million pieces. What will I do now?

~~~

It's been two weeks yet I have not left my muri. My heart is giving out I can feel it in my stomach. My skin is dull and my body is thinner. I haven't eaten a proper meal in days. How can I eat when the love of my life has left me? Kiri, Lo’ak, and Nang all try to visit me but I do not answer. I wish for Eywa to call upon my return. I lay in my hammock just as I have for a week but this time it's different Kiri burst into my room yelling for me.

“Tamìfa awaken now. I will not let you rot away over my ridiculously stupid brother. Come summer is in full bloom it's perfect to swim in the river. Everybody is there partying. “Everybody?” I question. “Yes he's there but, that doesn't matter.” 

“Kiri I can’t let him see me like this I look a mess.”

“How about I do your hair in nice braids and you put a cute outfit on? Will that make you feel better. ?” kiri said about to say more but was interrupted by a male Na’vi walking into my muri. I only saw his shadow at first. I hoped it was Neteyam, but I’m soon let down. It's just Nang checking up on me. ‘I saw your curtain was open. Are you feeling any better?” he coos in a worried tone.” “Everybody is down at the river. You should come, get some sun on your skin. I'm meeting Ekong there. Ekong is his mate.

“See we all want you to go now sit down so I can do your hair. Namg go pick he out an outfit.’ kiri directs like a war leader.

~~~ 

I hop off my Ikran feeling so uncomfortable. My hair is in a style that not many Ometicya women were here it's more of a Metkyina style hair with a braid on top and loose flowing hair in the back. Not to mention Nang picked out an outfit I'd never worn before due to the fact it was quite small. I feel like they all want Neteyam to regret what he did. I walk passed the brush leading the way to the lake I hear Na’vi and music being played. Nang leaves us to go swimming with his mate. Now it's just me and Kiri. I look over to my left but she's gone. She’s probably bonging with the creatures of the forest. Feeling awkward I find myself sitting on a rock at the edge of the lake dipping my feet into the water. I feel multiple eyes on my back trying to not think about it I look forward. Clear a day I see neteyam surrounded by young Na’vi women. Our eyes meet but a look down at my feet quickly not wanting to look at him a second more.

~~~

Neteyams heart could burst out of his chest seeing you. You looked like a goddess. He's spent his entire training break all alone. He wishes he could say sorry and take it all back but he didn't have the guts. His whole family is disappointed in him. Today these Na’vi girls just wouldn't leave his side. If Neteyam went swimming they did or if he went to look for pebbles so did they. He couldn't keep them away

“Oh look who showed up.” an unknown Na’vi girl said.

“She looks so sexy and I don't think were the only ones who noticed.” one of them giggles pointing at the Na’vi men sitting a distance behind her. Neteyam couldn't help but feel rage. He knew it was wrong because he was the one who hurt you. He watched the men walk toward you and sit next to you his eyes filled with rage. The girls quickly noticed 

“Don't worry about her Neteyam you guys were just a fling.” one other girl said.

“Plus she has Nang.”

“Not all the time. Nang mated to Ekong months ago when the men were off.” 

right there and then Neteyam felt like such a fool. You told him he had nothing to worry about anything between you and Nang, but he was filled with so much envy it clouded his mind. He knew he needed to do something about these boys. He stood up harshly knocking one of the girls off her feet.

~~~

It was as if my stomach was hollow. The men walked up to me and started bomb barding me with questions. I couldn't keep up with all of them.

“So you a Neteyam are really over huh?”

“Come swim with us, sweetheart.”

“We can treat you better than he ever did.” little did they know Neteyam could hear everything. You looked right passed the men into his golden eyes. They noticed and turned around terrified. “Oh hey Neteyam didn't see you there.” one of them said scratching the back of their neck trying to keep calm. “Back off. Now.” was all Neteyam said. Why was he mad? He was the one who broke up with me. Though this really made my heart throb. I feel guilty for still loving him. He's probably been such a player after our breakup. My heart splits just thinking about him even talking to other girls.    

“Why should I? You're the one who broke up with her. You obviously don't know a good woman when they're sitting right in front of you.” that threw Neteyam off the edge before I knew it Neteyam punch the guy right in his jaw. “Ma Neteyam! What are you doing? You can't just go punching people for speaking truth.” I scream but am quickly cut off by him grabbing my wrist. He pulls me deep into the first unseen but nobody but Ewya herself.  

“Ma Neteyam let go of me. Im not yours anymore.” I cry

“I know I'm sorry but please listen for just a moment Ma Tamìfa,” he said grabbing my shoulders “I'm so sorry I'm such a fool. I should have listened to you. I should have never left you all alone. I'm a fool I didn't treat you how you deserved and now I'm paying for my sins. I hate seeing other guys think they can have you. I hate the thought of being with anybody else besides you Ma Tamìfa. I know I'm such an ass for treating you so coldly during my training. I should have seen the beautiful woman right in front of me.” he said all in one breath. I don't know what to say. This is everything I could ever want. My heart fills with joy. What do I do? He looks into my eyes dropping to his knees. He tightly grasped my legs crying. Seeing him like this broke me. I need to lift this pain holding him down on his knees.

“Ma Neteyam please get up.”

“Not until you say it! Say you'll take me back. Please I’ll do anything.” he sobs. He's getting too overwhelmed. He thinks the worst is about to happen. I sit down on the floor touching our heads. “I want you to Ma Neteyam.” those words almost didn't register in his mind. He looked up at me in disbelief. “Ma Neteyam I need you my life has no beginning without you,” 

In that very moment, we grab each other's faces and our lips connect as one. I feel butterflies in my stomach as if it were our first kiss.

“Ma Neteyam I have i gift for you.”

“ my sweet I do not deserve such things,” he said wiping my tears                                                                                                                      

“ it was meant for the day we went to the hot springs.”

“The day we broke up…”

“Yes, but that doesn't matter anymore here my love.” I pulled the hand-beaded necklace out of my bag. I softly placed it into his hands. “My sweet did you make all of this? It's beautiful.” he rushes to put it on. When it's on his skin glows as the sun reflects off the iridescent beads. My heart is jumping out of my chest seeing him finally wear it. 

~~~

We dove into the river as one. He grabbed my waist pulling me into a kiss once again. I thanked Eywa for bringing this man back into my life once again. “Everybody is watching Ma Neteyam.” “let them. Let every Na’vi in this clan that you're mine. For as long as the stars come out in the night sky I will never let you go my sweet.” his eyes soften looking into my eyes. “Become my mate officially Ma Tamìfa. Let's have the ceremony after my dream hunt.” I could not speak. I've waited for those words all my life. I waited for him to ask again as soon as we made up. “Yes of course Ma Neteyam.” I joyfully scream wrapping my arms around his muscular neck. We bring our heads together.

“Oel ngati kameie Ma Tamìfa”

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧

[legendary-pink-dot]

No Better, No Worse

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x Santiago "Pope" Garcia x female reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Blindfolds, restraints, someone asking you to choose between 2 hot men and how dare you

Word Count: 866

Summary: "You're seeing TWO guys? Which one is, you know, better?" It's a simple question, but there's no right answer.

Notes: No use of "Y/N". No mention of Frankie's child.

"You're seeing TWO guys?" whispered your new friend, her tone equal parts shocked and weirded out. "Which one is, you know, better? Not just in bed..."

It's a simple question, but there's no right answer. 

Reducing it to "Well, one of them holds me down while he fucks me hard" and "But the other one goes down on me until I have to beg him to stop, that's just as good" would feel like cheating, somehow.

Thinking about them makes you smile as you grapple with the question: Frankie and Santi. Catfish and Pope. Santiago and Francisco. A pair of best friends and comrades, loyal and devoted. They're electricity and chemistry, and you need both to feel alive.

What a revelation that had been, dating one while becoming friends with the other, and suddenly one evening having that dynamic completely implode and form something new around you.

How Frankie had been a bit hesitant, letting you lead and tell him what you wanted, ever the detail-oriented soldier who prefers to follow, the calm pilot who immerses himself in whatever task is right in front of him. By contrast, Santi had dived straight in and arranged you into what he knew you wanted, as a planner who anticipates every need with a focused intensity that would have frightened you if he'd been anyone else. The sense of safety you felt around both of them had never been in question, despite the things they've done and what you knew they were capable of.

Santi's intensity unfortunately bled into his temper, running hot (but never dangerously around you) at the most trivial things, Frankie's quiet tones the only thing that could settle him. And you were the one who would always bring Frankie back to earth from the throes of his nightmares, more vivid and regular in the weeks after returning from a mission; you could always help him see what was real. In return they both took care of you, validating that your problems were important and mattered, even if they weren't life and death like theirs were. It became a closed circuit of care, flow and movement that would halt if one of you were to break away.

"Come on!" your friend prods. "You must have a preference, right?"

Both men have beautiful curls in their hair, perfect for wrapping around your fingers, at different times and for different purposes, and they both love it when you do. 

Two pairs of callused hands, their roughness patterned differently: Frankie had small indents on the sides of his fingers from years of gripping mechanic's tools, Santi with raised white scars slashing his olive skin from regular training with knives, his favourite combat skill and way to de-stress. Both felt incredible on every inch of your skin, at any pressure, in any configuration.

One night when they restrained you to the bed and put a blackout mask over your eyes, binding two of your senses, you were confident you'd be able to tell which one of them had those differently rough fingers and their tongue inside you. Just when you thought you knew, a wrong but familiar voice would whisper praise directly in your ear, sending you reeling and thrilling you extra at the same time, keeping you feeling alive and on the edge.

You also thought you would be able to tell which man was inside you, but in the end you didn't really want to. They kept the blackout mask over your eyes as they took turns sliding through your wetness and deep into you, switching frequently (or so you thought), both of their mouths spilling nonstop strings of filth to intentionally alter your focus, telling you what a good girl you were to take their cocks like this and how sweet your cunt was just for them. For both of them. The different sensations had fused into a singular, heat building in your core and the resulting climax setting off theirs, and your shared comedown created an abstract form in which concepts like separation and differentation no longer existed, the three of you sweaty and spent and a mess of tangled limbs.

"Seriously, if you were on the Titanic together and only one of them could share the floating door with you, which one would you choose?" Your friend can't believe that you still haven't taken a stand on this.

She doesn't understand, can't possibly know, that it's not just you and Frankie and then also you and Santi. It's you and Frankie and Santi. A higher value to all of you as a three of a kind rather than as a pair, and unable to remove one piece without breaking up the whole. But this isn't information your new friend needs to know; she was shocked and judgemental enough when you mentioned you were dating two men at the same time. The mere idea that you three subsisted together, needed each other in ways you were still coming to understand, would probably blow her mind. Best to keep that to yourself.

You finally settle on an answer that satisfies you. "I can't choose, and don't want to. There's no better and no worse. They're just... different."

[faustinio27]

FAUSTINE DAEMON – Character profile (HL MC)

(Spoiler for Hogwarts Legacy game)

GENERAL

Age : 15 (5th year)

Gender : Female

House : Ravenclaw

MBTI : INFJ

Blood status : Unknow

Social status : Orphan so working class ?

Wand : Pear wood with a phoenix core, 12 ½’’ and slightly springy flexibility

Patronus : Stag

Boggart : Her loved ones turned into Inferni, accusing her of not saving them

Amortentia : Lavander, hot chocolate, old book

Favorite class : Dark arts defense, Beast, Charms

Favorite spells : Diffinfo, Incendio, Wingardium Leviosa, Ancient magic

Favorite teacher: Professor Fig, Professor Hecat

Least favourite teacher: Professor Binns

APPAREANCE

« Looks likes a cinnamon roll but could kill you » energy

Hair colour : Blond

Eye colour : Blue

Skin tone : Beige/rose-coloured

Height: 1m67 (5’6)

Distinguishing features : Scar on her face. Her eyes glow an intense blue when she accumulates enough ancient magic.

Clothing style : Always clean and well dressed, she wears school uniform most of the time, and alternates between skirt and pants. She can have a feminine as well as masculine style. She never takes off her black gloves. She likes to have moon and stars pattern/accessories when she chooses other ouftits.

She doesn’t have a lot of clothes because she is not rich enough to buy them.

(In game : traditional school robe with tattersall vest school uniform OR velvet school robe with elegant vest uniform)

Additional info : She never or rarely wears makeup. Her cheeks are very squishable. She wears Fig’s scarf after his death.

PERSONALITY

At first glance, Faustine is seen as distant, mysterious, even unapproachable. Many students talk behind her back to describe her this way. In reality, she is easy to approach and become friends with. She is happy to help others, although her kindness is not to be abused: if you ask her to risk her life for trivialities, she will refuse outright, or not hesitate to ask for something in return. But if you tell her about secret passages and other hidden treasures, she will accept to embark on any adventure, driven by her curiosity. This curiosity often leads her to get involved in things that are none of her business.

She has grown up in an environment that has consistently seen her as a nobody, which causes her to suffer from the savior complex. She constantly fears being seen as useless and not up to par, and feels compelled to prove to others her true worth. She is then easily stressed or burned out. If she manages to remain one of the top students in her class while hunting dark wizards and poachers, her friends must be careful that she doesn't overdo it. She despises laziness and hate when people attribute her success to luck, rather than hard work. She is afraid that lack of knowledge will prevent her from getting ahead in life. Being locked up in a Muggle orphanage for 15 years has also given her an extreme need for freedom. Introverted and solitary, she takes refuge in her imagination or flies on the back of a hypogriff on a whim when she needs to be alone.

Although calm and serious, once she feels comfortable with someone, she is much more relaxed, sarcastic and cynical. She likes to tease her friends, and can become really silly. Empathetic and always with good advice, she is the person you go to when you need to confide. She cherishes her best friends as family (Sebastian, Ominis, Poppy, Natsai and Amit). Once her trust is earned, her loyalty is unwavering. She will do anything for her closest friends, and will protect them at any cost. The only way to make her lose her temper is to take it out on them.

She then wants to learn the most dangerous and forbidden spells such as dark magic. If she knows that this type of magic is illegal, no matter what it is called, it can be useful if it allows her to save people. She believes that any type of magic can be used according to its purpose, but it only concerns her (she doesn't trust others who might misuse it…). Nevertheless, she tries not abuse these spells and prefers to use ancient magic, which is also effective and not illegal.

She can easily roasts you in a verbal argument. She prefers to use words to fight, but will not hesitate to use her wand or her fists when things go too far (even if she isn’t very good in close combat). When her friends are personally attacked, she can become very violent and ruthless. Better to have her as an ally than as an enemy. She is not very forgiving and believes that revenge justifies the means. She fights for her own conception of justice.

Traits : sarcastic, dreamy, hard-worker, loyal, curious, introvert, idealist, solitary

Likes : books, milk chocolate, nightsky, animals, art, discover hidden places, pretty things in general, money

Dislikes : dumb people, bullies, children, spiders, candies, loud noise, Gobstones, failing

Good at : winning a debat, literature, listening

Bad at : maths, having a good night schedule, avoiding stress, Quidditch

Hobbies : reading, taking care of her animals, exploring, flying with her hyppogriff, coffee date with friends

Fears : Not being up to the task, being a failure, losing her found family

RELATIONSHIP

Best friend :

Sebastian Sallow. He and Faustine have a real sibling relationship. They tease and make fun of each other, bicker, and make up. Faustine is the most cynical and sarcastic when she’s with him. She doesn't hesitate to tell him about her adventures outside Hogwarts and about ancient magic. She appreciates his optimism, his humor and his outspokenness, and quickly became attached to him at the beginning of the year, when he took her under his wing. They have a mutual trust, where both of them have each other's backs. If Faustine remains the more reasonable of the two, she is easily drawn into his adventures by curiosity and friendship. Knowing that he is stubborn in his decisions, when he wants to go on dangerous expeditions, she prefers to accompany and help him, to make sure nothing happens to him. Faustine is sympathetic in his quest to help his sister despite the dangers, because she knows she would do the same for him (even if Sebastian doesn't always realize it). Nevertheless, since Sebastian is stubborn and Faustine's patience has its limits, when their disagreements go too far, she doesn't hesitate to tell him what she thinks about his attitude then leave, expecting a sincere apology. Which he always ends up doing, and she always ends up accepting it. She knows he is flawed, but so is she; and while she doesn't know why or how she became so attached to this student, she's still willing to do anything for him.

Friends :

Ominis Gaunt : Ominis didn't like Faustine much at the beginning of the year, seeing her as a threat who might get Sebastian into trouble, and being afraid that she would replace him in their friendship. But he quickly realized that Sebastian didn't need her to get himself into bad situations, and that Faustine was there to get him out. Faustine, despite their rather cold start, immediately wanted to be his friend. Because if she’s friend with Sebastian, and he is too, why can’t them be friends too ? She quickly gained his trust by defending him on several occasions when he was arguing with Sebastian. Faustine appreciates Ominis' calm, sarcasm, sensitivity and intelligence, which balances Sebastian's personality. They are partners in some classes and enjoy spending time together.

Poppy Sweeting : Sometimes you don't need a lot of reasons to get along with someone. With Poppy, Faustine simply has a good connection. She likes her for her kindness and dedication to helping magical creatures. Faustine feels this need to help her and protect her from harm, especially when she finds herself in situations where she doesn't seem to realize the dangers that face her. Poppy's enthusiasm is contagious, and her presence always cheers Faustine up when she feels stressed.

Natsai Onai : If there is anyone Faustine trusts the most, it is her. Faustine knows her loyalty and courage are unwavering. Natty’s quest to destroy the dark wizards to protect her new home resonates strongly with Faustine, who desires the same thing. She appreciates Natty's trust in her, confiding in her about her feelings and her father's death. Even though Natty complains about her mother being overprotecting, Faustine can't help but be jealous that she has a mother who loves and cares about her.

Amit Thakkar : Amit is a fellow Ravenclaw whom she got to know better during astronomy classes. She appreciates his kindness and his passion for the stars, and willingly listens to him talk about them, even if she doesn't necessarily understand everything. They share a passion for reading adventure novels, and can discuss about it for hours without interruption. He frequently lends her books, and they look like two passionate nerds when they are in their common room. She sympathizes with his desire for adventure that she felt in the Muggle world, and doesn't mind his fearful temperament. Even though he is always worried when she takes him on more or less dangerous adventures, he is still loyal to her and wants to help her (which is good for Faustine, because she often finds herself in the opposite situation where she has to help people). As with Poppy, Faustine also feels a strong sense of protection towards him.

Caligo : Faustine rescued the black hypogriff from poachers. Much like Poppy with Highwing, Faustine and Caligo became really close, and they love to fly together under the starry sky. He is a proud hypogriff who won't let anyone but Faustine (and eventually Poppy) get near to him. He will stay with her even after Hogwarts.

Mentor :

Professor Fig : Professor Fig is the first to have a fatherly attitude towards her. He took her under his wing, educating her about this new world she knew nothing about, while teaching her magic with patience and kindness. They are both stubborn and misunderstood by their peers, and they both despise idiots. If Fig appreciated Faustine long before her discovery of ancient magic, their secret has bound them together. He may not admit it, but Faustine is his favorite student, and he does favors for her that he wouldn't do with other students. They are on the same wavelength, so much so that we could really think they are part of the same family.

She never forgives herself for his death.

Other :

She doesn’t like Garreth Weasley and Leander Prewett. She also didn’t likes Imelda Reyes at first, but at the end of the year, they both gained mutual respect for each other. Samantha Dale is one of her roommate, with whom she gets along well.

BACKSTORY

(Fic of her backstory)

Faustine has always lived in a muggle orphanage. She was found as a baby outside the doors of the orphanage and has no clue as to the identity of her biological parents. She grew up hoping to find a family, but after a certain age, she accepted the idea that she would never be adopted. The director and the other children kept telling her that no one would ever want her. Knowing that she was doomed to be homeless as soon as she came of age, Faustine decided to study. She hoped to find a job that would allow her to avoid poverty. She learned to be independent and to rely only on herself.

Reading brought her comfort in her gloomy life. All the fantasy stories took her on a journey, allowing her to escape her fate. She was often criticized for not living enough in the real world, but it was the only way she could make life bearable. At 14, Faustine was one of the eldest children in the orphanage. The director took advantage of this to give her thankless tasks, justifying that she was preparing her for real life.

One day, while Faustine was out shopping for the orphanage, she overheard two men talking about magic. Curious, she decided to follow them discreetly into the bad streets. While spying on them, she realized that they were wizards. Unfortunately, they were dark wizards who were smuggling illegal goods into the muggle world. Faustine was discovered, and the two men went after her to kill her. After attacking her with various offensive spells, Faustine was caught in a dead end. One of the wizards cast the death spell on her. At the same time, the ancient magic within her awoke. A magical blue bubble formed around her and blocked the spell. And in a fraction of a second, this magic retaliated by reducing the two wizards to dust. Faustine, unconscious, will only have a scar on her face as a souvenir of this confrontation. When she woke up at the hospital, she didn't remember what had happened. During her recovery, Faustine witnessed strange events. Objects began to move and levitate around her. The next day, an owl flew in through her window and handed her a strange letter. It said that she was admitted to Hogwarts, the school for apprentice wizards. Faustine didn't know how to react. She wanted to believe it. All her life she had dreamed of an escape. She felt like she was living in one of those fantasy books she loved so much. Her blackout, the levitating objects, the letter... The magic seemed real. But she kept it a secret until she had more information. She was afraid she would be given false hope.

Until Professor Fig arrived. He told her about the letter, and confirmed that she was a witch. Her powers seemed to have awakened only a few days ago, justifying the fact that she had not been located by the school before. He offered to mentor her, explaining that he had arranged with the director of the orphanage to keep it a secret. Faustine was overjoyed. She asked the professor to bring her as many books about the wizarding world as possible. She wanted to learn as much as she could about it. She felt - she knew - that she belonged there, and that a new and better life awaited her. And why not a family?

FUTURE

After Hogwarts, Faustine studied to become an Auror. Thanks to her seriousness, her experience with dark wizards, and her ever-growing ancient magic, she quickly became one of the best. She is known in the domain for being pitiless. But after a few years of service, she realized that she didn't want to give up her passion -books-, and that she wanted to make people dream with them, just like her. She then owned a magical library, which she maintained with former house elf Penny. She remained a part-time Auror, accepting only the most important and dangerous assignments from the Ministry. Over the years, she studied literature, philosophy and sociology. She took part in many political debates in the wizarding world, notably to defend equality between wizards and Goblins. And just like when she’s Auror, she’s just as ruthless to defend justice. She became an important and influential figure in the wizarding world. Her professions allowed her to live a comfortable life. If she didn't have time to build a family life, it doesn't bother her at all. Faustine is seen as the rich and eccentric single aunt in her found family, and continues to help them whenever they need it. As people said, "she is married to freedom".

AUTHOR NOTE

Faustine Daemon is based on my experience and decisions in the game. She is a mix between the general personality given to the MC, and a self insert. But working on her backstory and pushing her personality makes her a sort of OC I guess. I tried to make her backstory and personality justified and consistent with what the game tell us about (so not so much).

Don't hesitate to ask me questions about her, or to suggest interactions with your MCs, I'd love to read them! (and why not draw them?)

Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.

(Thank you for reading this far, have a cookie)