#and fuck the church for convincing everyone this love is anything but normal

[unorganisedalienrubbish]

The epitome of the gay experience is wanting to scream from the rooftops how much you love them. From all of this wreckage love still persists. The world is on fire but none of it matters because I have him.

It’s wanting to do that and more. The ‘I love my boyfriend’ shirts aren’t enough. From day one I wanted to wear a ring on my finger to show the world that he is mine and I am his. It’s us against the world.

It’s wanting to do all that, but feeling the need to hide it in public. To keep this wondrous thing behind closed doors.

And here I am crying in my car because I love him so much and everyone needs to see my darling boy and how much I love him. But I will never be safe if I do so.

[tsotc]

your and your boyfriend's ocs are all interesting, i'm looking forward to when the carrd is done. amnuai and absinthe are cute together! could you tell me more about anurak and petrichor's dynamic? does amnuai have a "i'm saddled with unnecessary feelings" moment(as you mentioned ce is like edgeworth.)? and i'm curious about udomwit's dynamics with petrichor, estmund, and anurak. how does udomwit handle anurak and jerome's.. differences?

Anurak is actually one of Petrichor's more regular clients and as such their relationship is like "I'm your therapist but by god I want to hit you with a car" and "I want to strangle you for failing to use Lady Halone's name in place of your 'god'". Anurak doesn't live at Façade save for when he's having a psychotic girl moment and the church isn't letting it stay with them for Psychotic Girl Reasons. Petrichor is a very reasonable person but oh my god you're fucking insane what's wrong with you.

I don't think that Amnuai has had that moment purely because Absinthe doesn't have a brain for the most part. Ce is ungodly unaware of cer own emotions but incredibly in tune with other people's, including absinthe, so doesn't find it hard to dance around cer feelings for him in a way that still allows for his affections and cer caring. There's a chance that ce's been like that to Petrichor before (they get along well and are mostly sane and normal, unlike Literally Everyone Else) but it manifested like "Would that I could live in a world without Absinthe. I find it difficult to lay my heart to rest when he's around." "Im going to call you a slur are you okay with that" (SAID JOKINGLY).

UDOMWIT. MY GUMBLY FUCKING MEOW.

Despite being one of the most eccentric people there (minus anurak, who believes halone speaks through him etc. etc) she's fully convinced that she's destined to be a background character in everyone else's stories and acts as theatrical and as memorable as possible to try and cement her place in other people's legacies, if only for a night. She and Petrichor are playing gay chicken in the sense that wit won't allow herself to burden someone like him with her love and petrichor is solving peoples problems to avoid dealing with his own (he and amnuai tend to bond over this). She loves him though and it's clear for everyone to see. Udomwit calls everyone "love" and "dear" but it shows up a lot more with petri than anyone else, she loves through food and asks him to taste test her menus and desserts a lot, the act of sharing a business together is one of love as well.

Wit has known Estmund for a very, very long time. He's actually the one who taught her more refined cooking stuff when she came to Coerthas for the first time (up until then she was mostly just a homecook and that hasn't really changed). This Was A While Ago. 18 summers or so? Udomwit is like 38 and Estmund is like 52 but nobody believes how long they've been friends bc one larps as a vampire and the other Goos His Face everyday with Plant Goop to keep looking 25. Hyur curse. Whenever Estmund comes to visit he brings a sodoku or crossword book and they do it together. The two of them tend to bounce resippies off of each other a lot and its nice when they cook together because everyone goes home with like 3 full plates of food because god these two don't know how to cook small portions when they get excited about food.

She. Does not handle Anurak well. She's bad with conflict because oh she just wants to keep everyone happy and well fed and safe but isn't incapable of putting her foot down when things get dire, even if it really does break her heart a little to do so.

Anurak keeps its head down at the bar unless Jerome is there mostly under threat of Amnuai Is Going To Beat You To Death. They get on rather well, don't get me wrong, but only whilst Anurak is having a normal one and when things stir up with Jerome she isn't usually the first to jump in to stop it. This isn't out of lack of responsibility or anything, just that she's a Little Scary when she's angry or being authorative and Petrichor is better at de-escalation wrt those two. Anurak. is like a cornered animal 9 times out of ten, Udomwit is a calming presence for the most part and let's him get the stress from being Catholic out a little bit when Petrichor isn't around.

[necros-writing-stuff]

You opened this can of worms. Now lay in it.

But I’m all seriousness if you have time can you do the wedding ask but with Kylar, Whitney, and great Hawk (I just think I’d be funny to try and explain a wedding to a harpy)

Aight here we go, part two electric boogaloo

NSFW below

Great Hawk

So, so confused. Does not get it, these strange landstrider ways of signing things.

Of getting permission from people to love.

Perfectly happy stealing you ring after ring until they find a perfect one though. If you want pretty jewellery, the harpy is more than happy to provide.

Its gonna be impossible to get the harpy into a dress or tux. Impossible to get them into town and find a venue or do anything normal.

And getting an official out in the moors? You better be paying good money.

But say you do do all that, manage to escort some poor priest or whatever to the tower, Great Hawk may get a little territorial. 

Once you calm them down, they’ll allow the person inside. If it will make you happy, they suppose. 

“Don’t worry about a witness,” the officiate says, obviously uncomfortable and wanting away from the situation.

If you dress up, Great Hawk will smother you in compliments, their mate looks amazing! So excellently preened!

The officiate goes through the words as quickly as they can, jumping when, instead of saying vows, the harpy screeches a song that declares their love for you.

You sign the presented papers, helping the harpy put their mark down, too. and the officiate runs off so they don’t have to risk their sanity any longer.

Buying a radio so the two of you can have a dance, sing along. Maybe even buying a small cake and feeding it to them, delighting in how they react to the sweet taste.

Great Hawk could fly you anywhere you wanted for a honeymoon. But what about the nest? Maybe you should wait till winter, then you two can find a nice spot somewhere warm.

Excited to mate that night, stripping your clothes and laying you down so they can breed you full of chicks. Tries to keep your clothes pristine for you.

Very thorough in their treatment of you, caresses your body and praising your everything.

You’re not entirely sure Great Hawk gets what happened. You’re still happy though, and so are they, knowing that you’re bound by their ways and yours.

Kylar

Oh this fucker planned.

Years and years in advance.

I’m talking slide shows, binders, cut-out collages of outfits and themes.

Proposes to you. The ring is goddamn expensive, and its perfect because of course it is.

The proposal was more of a formality, a definite put the plan into motion moment, you’ve always been bound to marry.

Lets you check the plans over, any changes you need to make are okay. Its your big day, too.

So happy to tour venues, to try catering, to find outfits. Everyone can see how excited Kylar is, how proud they are that they get to marry you.

Tells. Fucking. Everyone.

Old lady on the bus? Told. Local butcher? An earful. Don’t bring them to any poetry events, they’ll claim the mic to tell the whole room.

Really wants a Halloween themed wedding. Wants the two of you dressed like Gomez and Morticia, or Victor and Emily, or Jack and Sally.

If you let them do that, they’ll cry from joy and start practicing make-up every day so its perfect.

Don’t worry about price, they’ve got that covered.

The day comes and Kylar can’t wait to see you. Does not obey the traditional don’t see each other thing, will drag you off to touch you.

Most of the people from school are banned. Especially Whitney. May allow Robin, if you’ve assured them that you’re just friends.

Kylar’s family is there, they’re an interesting bunch. Rich, some a bit condescending. If this is your first time meeting his parents (unlikely) then I agree with the headcanon that one of them is probably just like Kylar - and gushes over you. Their little baby is getting a spouse all of their own.

Done in a church, even if its been dressed up in spiders webs and other stuff like that (if you let Kylar theme it).

Every guest is in costume, too.

If the PC is given away, then again you could use Bailey. They’ll smile and wave, knowing they can socialise and use it to their advantage. But I would find it funny if Doren does it, briefly telling you they were worried about Kylar in school, but you look so happy now! That's wonderful!

Kylar cries. Almost sobbing. Their mother/father stand beside them with tissues.

Records the wedding.

Personal vows. Its a poem, of course. Its not like the racy ones in English. Its heartfelt, beautiful, been drafted over and over again till it looked wrong and then right again,

One of you is getting dipped in the kiss. Be careful not to drop each other.

Honeymoon in Japan!

Going to the official stores of games you like, cat cafes, Kylar spending so long in the arcade.

Of course marathon sex. They’re not letting you go. You’ll be finding it hard to walk, room service being the only thing keeping you going.

Already said ‘I love you’ a thousand times during sex, now says it a million.

Time to start planning for babies, they’ll point out. They also have slideshows for that.

Whitney

You know how people get really drunk and do it impulsively? Yeah.

It would be on a trip out to some foreign country, you’re their slut so of course you get to come with. Doesn’t admit to having saved up for so long to take you away somewhere, just the two of you.

Parties hard throughout the vacation, taking advantage of the hot climate to dress in as little as possible, and wants to fuck you anywhere they can.

Until you wake up one night to find a signed marriage certificate with your names on it and a whole lot of missing memories.

Finds a camera, flicks though it to find out the two of you got married the night before. You’re dressed up in the worst outfits they’ve ever seen, but you’re smiling so wide, the kiss looks so full of love.

Oh look you took photos of the consummation, too.

Divorces are expensive, you know. Besides, not like you’re leaving them anytime soon. Its convenient to stay married.

Years down the line you could convince Whitney to do a proper ceremony. A recital, just so you can have one you remember.

They give in, and let you plan. But dear God are they nervous.

Terrified to tell their family. Doesn’t really want them there, scared they’ll say something to you. But if you insist.

Jokes about inviting Leighton for a brief second before deciding against. Bastard would show up and ruin everything, knowing them.

Almost runs off. Even if you’re already married, if its just a little ceremony with close people, Whitney feels vulnerable. Their friends will be there, will they think they’re weak?

But they suck it up and go to the recital.

Tries not to cry when they see you. Fails. Quickly wipes their face before anyone can see. Everyone already saw.

Whispers their vows to you. So quiet everyone leans in, but you hear them perfectly. They mean it when they say they love you, and you can only tell further when you go to place the ring on their finger to find a black band a writing around where the ring goes.

Its your name. Tattooed in a band, around their finger.

Okay now you’re both crying.

The after party is one hell of a show. Even if the venue, the food, the DJ aren't expensive, Whitney and their friends make it so that it isn't dull.

The best man’s speech is embarrassing for both of you, whether its your best friend (Robin, probably) or Whitney’s recounting something like you two stabbing at each other with protractors in Maths.

At one point you hear Whitney’s friends congratulate them. Telling them its okay they cried, they’re all happy for them.

The honeymoon? The place you got married in the first place. And you’re going to recreate the photos from the night, too.

Whipped cream and strawberries. Whitney covers you in it, licks it off and is eager to try other food-related kinks with you.

Whitney is very happy they didn’t run.

[smolbeanie1221]

I was fucking miserable when I was trying to convince myself that I was a Christian like everyone else in my family.

My stepdad loved me all through high school in very painful ways. Body shaming me, making me feel as tho I didn’t the right to be depressed, making me feel like I was an intruder in the happy little world of him and my mom, constantly teasing and picking on me in emotionally harmful ways both at home and in public, as the pastor of a church referring to me as “baggage” in the middle of a church message after complimenting my mom for the millionth time and saying how lucky he is to have her… and oh yeah there’s the baggage aka me the stepkid, never listening or trying to understand me, showing no respect for me as a trans and queer person.

And yet… I’m the one who’s living in sin bc I never felt the Christian god but I could feel and connect to nature and the spirits around me who I truly feel accepted by? I’m the one living in sin bc I am being my authentic self, which happens to be a different gender than what some doctor assigned me moments after my birth? I’m the one living in sin bc I am capable of loving anyone regardless of gender or physical characteristics? I’m the one living in sin because… I’m actually trying to be open and accepting and loving and respectful of everyone around me. Because I’m being my authentic self? Which apparently has never and never will be good enough for my stepdad.

His love for me, which as a Christian pastor should be an example of the Christian god’s love… my stepdad’s love destroyed my mental health for fucking years. I still deal with the fucking trauma he caused me. I struggle with motivation to lose weight to be healthy bc I just hear his voice body shaming me. I haven’t set up an altar yet or figured out what my craft and practice will look like bc in the back of my mind, I’m ashamed of my beliefs, and there’s a part of me that hopes I’ll wake up one day and be a Christian and “normal” in my family. I haven’t seriously looked into top surgery yet bc despite the pain he put me through, I still don’t want to disappoint him for the hundred millionth time. I hate what he put me through, i hate that his love for me has left me with so much trauma. And yet i know that in his mind, because I’m the sinful queer pagan one, I’m the only one to blame in his mind. If you just believed and followed God and rejected your sinful queer attraction and understood that you’re truly a girl, things will all be wonderful bc you’ll be back on the right path. That’s probably what he thinks. I know he doesn’t think he has done anything wrong. But how could a pastor who prayer walks with god and does outreach to communities and preaches every Sunday, how could he be wrong? Obviously his love for me is good and correct and godly. Definitely not harmful or traumatic or… gods forbid emotionally abusive?? Nooo he would never be considered that! Not when I’m the queer trans pagan one who is so clearly the sinner.

Just to be clear, while this vent is mostly centered around the specific Christian asshole who happens to be my stepdad who “loved me” in incredibly painful ways, I’ve also been loved unconditionally and wonderfully by Christians. So I’m not saying all Christians are like my stepdad. But even most of the Christians who love me unconditionally would say that I’m wrong the way I am, and they still love me in ways that are disrespectful, aka deadnaming and misgendering despite knowing that it’s rude and things like that. But some Christians, even if not every loving action is perfect, you know that it’s a pure love. Those Christians are not like my stepdad who has been cruel to me without ever caring or apologizing.

Also while I am pagan and not a Christian, it really had nothing to do with me being queer or the treatment of my stepdad. I had many positive Christian influences. I also had Christians who respected the fact I’m queer and affirmed that you can be queer and Christian. And that’s great. I just realized my beliefs are totally different and that I simultaneously do and don’t believe in many things. So I’m not saying my stepdad is the reason I’m pagan. He is however the one who left me with a lot of trauma in the name of “loving me” and “god says and that’s why what I’m saying is always right and you’re always wrong.”

I said this a couple years ago (one year ago?) and most of the comments on tumblr actually did not know this, so to reiterate what you’re up against: a VERY mainstream belief among American Christian fundamentalists is that they are the only ones who experience love. They raise their kids to think that everyone “living in sin” (all other faiths, atheists, and LGBT people) goes through life sad and empty, falsely believing they know what love feels like, and will never know until they’re “saved.” It’s not as simple as them diminishing the humanity of others out of hate, but being deeply brainwashed to believe others are automatically mentally less human. They are also very good at convincing new converts that they really are experiencing this “real” love for the “first time;” the same way members of all cults can become wholeheartedly convinced that they’re receiving psychic alien messages or communing with spirits. Cult conditioning is simply that powerful.

[starlordamn]

‘Us’ - Michael Gray Oneshot

Summary: you and michael shared a kiss a few weeks ago at the garrison - a sudden change from his usual behaviour of ignoring you. he no doubt ignores you again, making your lovesick self devastated but not surprised, until he shows up at your door at three in the morning.

Warning: angst technically, lil bit of fluff if you squint, that’s it really, i only read over it once so possible grammar mistakes sorry!

A/N: i enjoyed writing this, it took me a while for some reason as i wrote it over the period of two days, but nonetheless it was fun, in ya’ll can tell he is my favourite person to write for at the moment. enjoy!

taglist: @lemur46

-

It was just a kiss.

That is what you were trying to convince yourself that it was.

About two weeks ago you and Michael had been at the Garrison late at night, it was near closing time, some three in the morning. You both weren’t drunk, but tipsy enough to let things be said that usually wouldn’t be. Or in this case it was something done that wouldn’t normally be done.

You both shared a kiss. The type that was anticipated for what felt like hours. The longing stares at each other’s lips, the hesitance as you both leaned in as if you both knew it was wrong. Yet it still happened. His lips had crashed with yours before you even had chance to register it, and you kissed him back like your life depended on it. And it was only the morning after that you remembered. He remembered too and you secretly hoped he would say something but he would never.

See, you had always been close with the Shelby family, Polly was like a mum, sister and aunt all mixed into one for you. Tommy, Arthur, John and Finn were the mischievous and protective brothers you never had. You sat in on family meetings, you were as good as blood family to them. But with Michael it was different, from the outset he was cold to you. You don’t know what it was about him that made you fall for him, but you did and you fell hard. Head over heels hard. The type that keeps you up at night. The type that makes your heart soar when they’re in the room. And the type that makes you feel dizzy.

That’s what was making you so confused. Michael had shown no interest in you whatsoever, so that night in the Garrison – you had thought – was a dream. It took a good few hours of mental debate to finally conclude that it was real. Unbenknownst to you however, Michael had fallen for you the second he laid eyes on you. Everything about you just made him love you. The way you walked with Tommy’s paperwork, sometimes stumbling and then laughing at yourself flushing slightly with embarrassment. The way you would make jokes with the others and looked truly happy to be in everyone’s presence all time. And the way your kindness stretched to him even though he’d been nothing but cold to you.

He didn’t want to put you in danger. You worked for one of the biggest gangs in the country, hell it was a dangerous life not just a dangerous world. But with his line of work he could never guarantee things to you that he wish he could, what if one day he didn’t come home to you, next seeing him in a church in a coffin. He could not leave you like that nor ever put you through anything like that. So that is why he wanted to forget about you. Forget about, forget about the kiss.

But he couldn’t. He loved you. And you weren’t alone in thinking about the kiss. No matter how hard he tried to forget he couldn’t. So that’s why he ended up on your doorstep at three in the morning on a Sunday.

“Michael!?” You blinked a few times to make sure this wasn’t a cruel dream. You stood in only your nightdress, looking a mess from just being woken up by Michael knocking on your door.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You opened the door a bit wider revealing slightly more than just your head. Your heart was beating quickly at the topic that could possibly arise, why else would he be here at 3 in the morning on a Sunday of all days, because you were sure as hell it wasn’t because Tommy had more urgent paperwork for you,

“Can I come in?” He asked rather expressionlessly. His hands were in his pockets casually and he looked at you blankly waiting for you to say yes. You nodded and stepped aside so he could enter your house. He crossed the room and stood awkwardly in front of the fireplace that you had just started up again. You shut the door before making your way over to him and standing opposite him, but not too close.

“Michael why are you here?” You spat it out. You had to. You didn’t mean to be blunt, it was just that he was giving you nothing, not even his body language expressed anything to you. Michael opened his mouth to say something before shutting it again. You stood waiting for an answer. But you knew you weren’t going to get one. It was Michael. Before this he had only spoke a total of twenty words to you.

“Michael say something,” you pleaded now, he was beginning to make you nervous in a negative way.

“I don’t know what to say.” He finally spoke. His voice was quite wavered and he sounded frustrated. How dare he get annoyed with you when he was the one who had been stood on your doorstep.

Silence fell over the room, it wasn’t awkward but it was filled with tension, of what kind you couldn’t tell. You didn’t know whether you wanted him to go or stay.

“Are you high Michael?”

“What?” His eyes became fixated on you and he sounded slightly hurt.

“Are you drunk?”

“No I’m fucking not.”

“Why are you here?” Silence. “If it’s to mock fun of me, I get it. You were drunk and I was stupid. But I don’t need it rubbed in my face, I don’t need the whole ‘I didn’t mean it’ lecture so, you’ve made it very clear already that’s the case so, if that’s all then please me alone.”

Tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes. You really were stupid falling for someone you couldn’t have. Someone who didn’t want you. Turning around to walk upstairs, you expected him to show himself out but he didn’t.

“Y/N wait,” he grabbed your arms gently and pulled you back. You spum around to face him, he was much closer to you now but you shook your head.

“You. Kissed. Me.” Tears rolled down your face. You were so humiliated.

“And I’m not here to apologise for that.” His voice was sincere as he raised a hand to your face, brushing his fingers against your cheeks to wipe the tears away that he had created in the first place.

“Wait, what?” You stood in absolute confusion and astonishment waiting for him to expand on what he just said.

“I meant it Y/N, I wasn’t drunk at all, I knew what I was doing and I meant it.” Both of his hands cupped your cheeks now, his eyes looking into yours and he spoke truthfully.

“But,” you pulled his hands away from your face making him frown slightly, “why the cold exterior, ignoring me after, and before even, I just…” You trailed off, fidgeting with your fingers. You didn’t fully believe him.

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“From what?” You scoffed, folding your arms.

“I didn’t want to ever risk any harm to you, a-and what if I never came home to you one day, I would never want to put you through that.” His voice was raise slightly, pointing at things as he spoke. You had never seen Michael express this much emotion at once and you didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Michael, I was involved in this gang before you came back, you don’t think I know how dangerous this life is? I learned to use a gun at ten years old and used one at twelve, I don’t think I need protecting.”

He rolled his eyes, “if you want to be like that the—”

“No I’m sorry,” you interrupted him, “I didn’t mean it to come out like that, I know you were doing what you thought was best.”

He nodded before the room fell silent for a few second.

“Look if you don’t feel the same I can go.” He rambled, as if he had just snapped back into reality and realised what he’d just said.

“Michael, I love you, you idiot.” You searched his face for a response and you got one. He smiled. The first time you had ever seen him smile and it was beautiful, happy Michael was far better than sad Michael.

“I love you too, I always have.”

“You have a funny way of showing it you know,” you laughed and so did he, running a hand through his hair.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

He put his hand on your shoulder and gently steered you into the wall behind you until you were pressed up against it. His hands travelled across your neck and collar bone to move your hair out the way, while you blushed at the touch of his skin against yours. He placed his hands either side if you on the wall, trapping you against it and him, before he leaned in slowly, placing his lips on yours. Unlike he previous movements, his lips were not gentle, they were pressed against yours needily as if it would be your last. You kissed him back, snaking your arms around the back of his neck and looping them together to pull him closer to you. His chest pressed against yours as his hands slid down the wall to your rest on your shoulders. You felt so floaty with his lips on yours, he was better than any drug you had every tried and even more intoxicating. The way his lips moved against yours made your knees feel weak, you just couldn’t get enough.

Removing your lips sadly from his after what felt like hours, your breath was shaky and rushed, so was his. You pulled him close, going on your tiptoes to rest your head in the crook of his neck and you whispered quietly, “we’ll make ‘us’ work, Michael.” He kissed the top of your head lovingly before wrapping his arms around your waist. He was going to make you two work out, even if it was the last thing he did.

[thatfanficstuff]

Impossible - 18

Pairing: Eric Northman x reader

Warnings: mentions of unwanted touching and assholes thinking of rape (no sexual assault takes place beyond groping)

A/N: This is longish. I'm lazy and didn't edit. If anything is glaring let me know.

***

It was decided that you and Sookie would present as friends looking for a new church. You intended to play quiet and if necessary you would pretend you were the puppet Stan thought you to be until you escaped from your horrible vampire boyfriend. You thought he loved you. Sob. So on and so forth.

Part of you wanted to go with Stan’s idea. Hell, if there was a way to be rid of the Fellowship without it pointing back to the vampires, you’d jump for it in a heartbeat. They were the epitome of everything wrong with so-called religions. Standing behind their gods to justify their hate and prejudices.

You sighed as you pulled into the parking lot. A perky blonde signaled for you to park and you frowned.

“Why does she look familiar?” Sookie asked.

“That’s Sarah Newlin, the reverend’s wife. I’m not happy that it appears we were expected, Sookie. I doubt she greets everyone that pulls in the parking lot.” You clenched your teeth together. Your gut was telling you to just pull right back out of the parking lot, but this was still your best bet to find Godric. “Just be on guard.”

Sookie nodded her head then slipped out of the car with a grin on her face, ready to greet the Mrs. You followed along behind her playing timid.

“Hi,” Sarah exclaimed. “I’m Sarah Newlin. I saw y’all pulling in and thought I’d come out and greet you myself.”

Sookie walked right up to her and shook her hand. “I can’t believe I’m actually getting to meet you. My name is Heidi Merlotte. This is my friend Sylvia North. We’ve recently moved to the area and are looking for a church.”

Sarah shifted that smile to you and held out her hand. You took it gingerly and kept your other arm wrapped around your waist. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sylvia.”

You just nodded in acknowledgement.

“Well, you’re a quiet thing aren’t you?”

Sookie wrapped her arm around you and leaned forward as if sharing a great secret. “We moved to get Sylvia out of a situation, so to speak. She’s still recovering.”

You could almost believe the look of sympathy Sarah directed your way. She turned and motioned for you to follow her. “Well, follow me and we’ll see if Steve’s available. I’m sure he’d just love to meet you.”

“The reverend himself?” Sookie enthused. “That would be amazing.”

The two of you followed Sarah to an office where Steve Newlin sat behind a large desk. “Honey, we’ve got a couple of friends here looking for a church. Heidi Merlotte and Sylvia North.” You shuffled in and took the offered hand, nodding at his greeting before looking around the office. Sarah bent over to whisper something in her husband’s ear that you weren’t meant to hear. “They insinuated they moved to escape some sort of trauma.”

Steve made a sound of agreement before gracing you with that megawatt smile he was so famous for. You settled into your chair, content to let Sookie do all the talking. She always chattered when she was nervous anyway.

“Sylvia and I met in church actually, but we left when we discovered that the pastor was…well he was…” Sookie trailed off dramatically and you managed to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Homosexual?” Steve suggested.

Ugh, just when you thought you couldn’t hate this guy more than you already did. What an ass. “A sympathizer. He was a sympathizer,” you said before he could say something else that made you want to punch him in the face.

“Now see, that really makes me mad. How can you claim to love God if you love something God hates?” Too late. You wanted to punch him.

“Well, given Sylvia’s history, we know just how horrible vampires are,” Sookie added after a pause and you wondered what she’d heard in the asshole’s head. “No one will ever convince us that they have any sort of control. They are just evil.”

The Newlins’ attention turned to you with her words. You’d curse her, but this was the plan. You unbuttoned the top button on your shirt and pulled it open to show Eric’s marks. Normally you just wore one, but he’d given you a couple of extra the night before to add to your story. Once they’d seen, you buttoned your shirt back up as if you were ashamed.

You cleared your throat. “He was my boss. He was nice enough at first but then he started catching me in the backroom and feeding. He glamoured me into thinking I enjoyed it. That he loved me. I didn’t know until he came to my house one night and Heidi caught him doing it. She told me everything and helped me escape.” You reached over and grabbed Sookie’s hand. “She saved my life. I truly believe that.”

When you finished with your fantasy, you bent your head forward and wiped away a non-existent tear.

“I am sorry that such a horrible thing happened to you. But that’s what we’re here for is to help people like you. None of this was your fault,” Sarah’s voice comes.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” You kept your head down so you didn’t have to meet their gazes again. Frankly, you were tired of looking at them.

Steve clapped his hands together. “Well, let’s take a little tour, shall we?”

A tremor of unease crawled down your spine. You were pretty sure the Rev. Newlin’s job description didn’t include giving tours to the peons. You looked up at them, attempting to appear upset instead of untrusting. Sookie and you followed the couple out of the office to what you assumed was the door of the sanctuary.

Steve stopped before opening them and turned to face you. “Now, be careful when I open the doors.”

You arched a brow. “Careful?”

He grinned. “Sometimes when we open these doors, so much love comes flowing out it just knocks you right over.”

You were pretty sure that was the flood of bullshit actually.

“We’ll be sure and brace ourselves,” Sookie responds with a chipper smile.

When they opened the doors, you were actually impressed with the sight that greeted you. The large wall of windows at the back of the church allowed sunlight to flood the sanctuary. It was quite a stunning display. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it? I just love this room. It just seems to glow in the afternoon light,” Sarah said, obviously meaning every word.

“It’s just so inspiring,” Steve added.

Sookie fidgeted beside you and you knew whatever the reverend was thinking, it wasn’t pleasant. You reached over and hooked your arm with hers.

He looked between the two of you. “Say have you two ever been to a lock-in?”

“A l-lock-in?” Sookie stuttered out.

You gave your brightest, fakest smile and channeled your inner Sookie. “Not since I was a kid. Gosh, those were good times.”

“Well, we’d love to have you join us,” Steve offered.

Whatever he was up to, Sarah didn’t like it if her body language was anything to go by.

Sookie tugged at your arm. “We should go home and get our stuff so we can do the lock-down.”

You looked down to cover your smirk. They were definitely behind Godric’s disappearance then. You understood Sookie wanting to get out of here, if she’d confirmed that, but in all honesty you were the best option for getting Godric out of here without causing a scene.

“You have plenty of time. The lock-inisn’t until tomorrow. Besides, we haven’t finished the tour yet,” Steve said.

“You wanted to see me?” a voice interrupted and Sarah only looked more concerned. A large bald man came to stand by the Newlins. He was obviously their muscle.

“Oh good. Heidi, Sylvia, I’d like you to meet Gabe, one of my aides,” Steve introduced.

Gabe shook your hands while running his gaze over both of you. He licked his lips and you wanted to kick him in the nuts. Maybe later. It would give you something to look forward to.

“Gabe will be joining us for the rest of the tour,” Steve said, patting the other man on the back.

The tour continued far longer than necessary. “I’m sorry but we need to be going. I don’t like to be out after dark,” you said.

“Oh there’s just one more thing I want to show you. It’s a very special part of the tour. Most people don’t get to see it. My father’s tomb.” He sounded entirely too happy about that.

“Steve, are you sure?” Sarah asked.

“Absolutely.”

“I just don’t see why we need to go down there.”

“Not to be rude but I really don’t want to see someone’s grave,” you said.

Steve looked at you. “You have to see it. You can really feel his spirit down there. It’s the cornerstone our church is built on.” He opened a door that led down a steep set of stairs. Creepy basement. Check. And probably no windows. Perfect place to keep a vampire.

Sookie grasped your arm. “Sylvia?”

“What’s the matter?” Steve asked.

“She’s a little claustrophobic,” you lied.

“Well, at least take a little looksee so you can say you saw everything and you can make an informed decision,” the reverend argued.

“But we’ve already decided to go here so I don’t think it’s necessary,” Sookie said, her voice shaking. “We should go, Sylvia.”

“No,” Steve said. “Gabe!” Steve dived for Sookie and Gabe came after you. He grabbed you from behind, crossing his arms over the front of you, copping a cheap feel as he did so. Fucker. Irritation and Anger flooded through you and you knew Eric would pick up on it. He wouldn’t give you long before he came in after the two of you.

It wouldn’t take much for you to get free and to free Sookie as well, but you wouldn’t get a better opportunity to explore the basement. You feigned fighting and let the asshole carry you down the stairs with a firm grip on your breast.

You heard Sookie fighting behind you. “A little help, Gabe. I think the fucking banger’s on V,” Steve yelled.

“Quit fighting, Heidi. You’ll only get hurt,” you called and heard the commotion die down. At least she trusted you enough to do what you said.

They carried the two of you into a storage cage and locked you in after taking Sookie’s purse and searching both of you. As soon as they were out of sight and you heard the door shut upstairs, Sookie turned to you. “I sure as hell hope you have a plan because that Gabe guy is a total asshole.”

You hummed in agreement and pulled your lockpicking tools from your hair. They looked like barrettes and bobby pins to the untrained eye. “My plan is to find Godric before Eric gets here to rescue us.”

“You seem sure he’ll come,” she said, sounding surprised.

“I am. And if he doesn’t, I’ll get us out. Don’t worry about it.” You moved over to the gate to see the best way to go about getting the two of you out. The chain link configuration complicated things a bit but you’d figure it out.

“You’re always so sure about things. I wish I was like that.”

“A little bit of uncertainty makes life exciting,” you said with a grin before grabbing the gate and shaking it to see how sturdy it was. Keeping your grip you leaned against it. “Little god, little god, it’s time to go home,” you said in a singsong voice. Godric would hear you if he was anywhere in the basement.

“Little god?”

“Long story,” you assured her and shook the gate again. “Good news, the gate is designed to keep people out, not in. Also good news, I’m not completely human.”

“What’s the bad news?” she asked.

“This will be loud.” Unfortunately, the only top to the cage was the ceiling so there was nothing above you to grab onto. Instead, you grabbed onto the chain link beside the gate and used it to swing your body at an angle so your feet hit right where the lock was. You repeated the action two more times before dropping down so you could check the lock.

“Little god, I’m not leaving without you. I know you like me too much to let me die,” you said distracted as your focus was on the gate. You’d definitely done some damage but you decided to keep your feet on the ground and see what kind of damage side kicks could do.

After the second kick, you heard the door upstairs open. “What’s going on down there?” Gabe. Good.

“Nothing,” you called back even as you kicked again and the lock gave way. You grabbed the gate and pulled it shut as his feet thundered down the stairs.

He glared at the two of you before finally settling on you. You had no idea what Sookie looked like behind you but you were giving your best evil grin. “What are you up to, you little bitch?”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” you taunted, waiting for him to get closer.

“You’re not a lady,” he said. “You’re just some vampire’s whore.” He licked his lips and looked you over again as he pulled keys from his pocket. When he caught sight of the lock, he frowned and moved forward, “What the hell?”

Once he was within striking distance, you slammed the gate forward so it cracked him in the head and shoved him back. You didn’t give him time to recover before you attacked with punches and kicks. He got a couple of hits in as he tried to take you down. To regain the upper hand. But you weren’t about to let that happen. Finally, you got in position to put your arm around his neck. You kept the hold up until he dropped to his knees. When you would have continued until he quit breathing, a hand dropped on your shoulder.

“Enough.”

You looked to Godric. He wasn’t your sire. You had no loyalty to him, but he was a friend. You released Gabe and took a step back. Your gaze ran over the little god. Other than being paler than usual, he looked good. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. That was all the invitation you needed to wrap your arms around him.

He returned the hug. He moved his nose near your neck and inhaled. “You smell like my child.”

“Mates.”

He held you at arms length and looked at you in surprise. “He’ll come for you then. Not that he wouldn’t have anyway.”

“Oh, yeah. I figure we’re about out of time.” You gestured to the cage. “Godric, meet Sookie. Sookie, Godric.”

Sookie gave him a smile and a little wave. “Nice to meet you.”

His mouth set in a firm line and his gaze settled on you. “You brought a human with you to rescue me?”

“She’s a little something else, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not particularly, no. Especially considering what this one would have done had you not been who you are,” he gestured at Gabe.

“Speaking of, you should let me kill him. He groped me.” Reminded of the earlier incident you moved over to the prone form and nudged him so he was laying on his back. Then you kicked him in the balls as hard as you could. “Asshole.”

Godric’s lips twitched. “Feel better?”

“Much.” Sounds of a fight came from upstairs. “Eric.”

“Yes. I am here, my child. Down here.”

In a flash Eric was there. He stopped in front of you first, holding your arms as he looked you over. “I’m fine.”

He nodded once before turning to his maker. “Godric,” he said almost reverently before kneeling in front of him.

The moment was interrupted by Sookie’s laughter. The three of you turned your attention to her. She had a hand over her mouth as she tried to quiet herself. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s just Eric is all respectful and kneeling while you hugged him and called him little god. It’s just funny.”

Eric got to his feet and gave you a look. “Of course, you did.”

“What? Godric likes my hugs.”

[tadashiwa]

it has to be you

denki kaminari x reader

word count: 3135

a/n: aaahhh this was fun and it’s my longest work to date!!! i hope u guys enjoy

warnings: sex pollen. mention of alcohol. dub-con (because of the sex pollen). daddy kink. slight size kink. unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE U TAP IT BESTIES). smut. fluff. mutual pining. confession of feelings. i think thats it? let me know if i missed any shordies

11:36pm

dont think about it. dont think about it.

the words helplessly rang through kaminari's head. yet, it was useless. no matter how hard he tried to will his brain away from what he had the absolute privilege of witnessing earlier that day, his brain could not stop. god, he felt like a perv thinking that.

it was supposed to be just another normal night patrol with you. you, his sidekick, his best friend, and the goddamn love of his life. yet, as much as he loved you, what you did today was so stupid. so fucking stupid. maybe it was because he loved you so much that he thought it was so stupid. he didn't really know.

8:42 pm

kaminari was supposed to only be gone five minutes at most. and yet, when you saw the new rising villain, desanctify, trying to break into a church, you didn't wait for him. you didn't call for backup. you went on and fought her on your own. and even when desanctify hit you with her poisonous, seductive, midnight's-evil-twin venom, you kept fighting. and somehow, through your haze of desperate arousal and aching need, you managed to get her in those hero handcuffs. and when kaminari finally caught up to you, my god were you a mess.

a mess that was so painfully attractive to kami.

that goddamn sex spell had absolutely wrecked you. after your agency gave you the rest of the night off, kami carried you back to your apartment. piggy back style proved to be easiest with your state. because, when he held you bridal style, much to his delight, or dismay, you were begging him to fuck you. you kept grabbing at his jacket and looking up at him with those doe eyes. you were distracting him so much he had to flip you around to his back.

you were both so close to your apartment, your whimpers echoing through kaminari's ears like a goddamn siren's song. your head was resting against his shoulder with your hips hovering so closely to his neck and you were still whimpering and kami could almost swear that he felt your core grinding against his back and—

finally. he reached your door.

11:53pm

of course he felt bad leaving you like that, alone in your apartment and so desperately horny you couldn't control yourself. he just figured you.... would figure it out on your own? he got off his shift in seven minutes, he was gonna call you to check in after. he was really hoping the spell had worn off by now. he's not sure he would survive a call with you if it hadn't.

it's not like you had ever shown interest in denki in the first place. sure, you were sometimes flirty and there was that one time you both drunkenly kissed on new years but he never for a second thought it was real. you could have anyone you wanted. surely your hazy desperation for him came out of a place of convenience. he couldn't afford to think otherwise.

finally, his shift ended. as he walked to the subway stop closest to him he pulled out his phone, prepared to call you and check i—

FIFTY SEVEN MISSED CALLS FROM YOU?!?!?!

kami was freaking out. were you okay? were you hurt? what was going on? what if you needed him and he was too late again?

his panic subsided when he saw the texts pouring in from you. well, he was still panicked. just for another reason.

texts of you begging for him were coming through in droves. he lost count of how many times he had to scroll. it was adorable and simultaneously terrifying. it made his blood thrum in his ears and his cheeks get hot.

and there were voicemails too.

voicemails of you whining his name. of you begging for him. telling him how badly you wanted him to make you cum. god.

surely this had to be a prank, right? you had to be messing with him. he called you, just like he said he would, expecting you to be laughing hysterically on the other end.

except you weren't.

you were still whining desperately for him. how your own fingers werent enough. how you needed his cock inside you or you think you might die.

kaminari genuinely felt as if he had died and gone to heaven. there's no way, right? he couldn't. you're not thinking straight. you didn't mean that. but you almost sounded like you were in pain. he was sure everyone on the subway could hear how hard his heart was beating.

"kami—they.. they said that... ngh—they said that it only—hah—only goes away if so-someone makes you c-cum—shit!"

all the color drained from his face.

"it—it has to be you."

12:31am

despite every nerve ending in his body absolutely reeling, kaminari found himself standing at your door. the same door he stood at all those times when he came to pick you up on your way to the agency. the same door he stood at when he made sure you got home safe when you were drunk. the same door he used as a shield from the unknown, the intimacy that made all of your flirting and side comments real.

he knocked once. twice. no answer. his fingers drifted down to the knob itself and gave it an experimental twist. unlocked.

he knocked once more. still no answer. then, with every ounce of courage he could muster, he let himself in. the shield was gone. the barrier was crossed. there he was, standing in his apartment, and you were deadset on fucking him.

"y/n? i'm here.... you uh... you didn't answer so i just let myse—" his call out to you is cut off by quite possibly the most pornographic moan he had ever heard.

it was almost as if his body was in a trance as he walked towards the source of the noise. the moans weren't stopping. denki was already hard at the sound of them. to make matters worse, your bedroom door was open and—

holy shit.

kaminari had seen his fair share of early morning sunrises. his fair share of cherry blossoms. he'd seen plenty of girls who he was convinced were the prettiest girls on earth. but you, you were breathtaking. genuinely ethereal. kaminari had never seen anything so gorgeous in his life. he didn't think he would ever again.

there you were, in one of his shirts he had let you borrow and nothing else. the pillow between your legs wet with your slick as you desperately dragged your clit against it, looking for any sort of release. one hand balanced you as the other played with your breast, pulling the shirt up to reveal your midsection in the process.

and when your eyes met his, kaminari was sure: this is heaven.

your pupils dilated so large at the sight of him that the y/e/c rings surrounding them disappeared. your bottom lip was pulled tight in between your teeth, your hair a mess. my god. just when kaminari thought it couldn't get any better, you spoke. without breaking eye contact, you whined,

"denki, please."

kami rushed towards you with such a sense of urgency you would've thought that he was a man starved.

"sh-shh-shhh, it's okay. it's okay, i'm here now."

in your sex-crazed daze, you pulled denki onto the bed next to you, his back leaning against your headboard. you were quick to straddle his thigh, almost collapsing at the contact you had craved for so fucking long.

denki didn't think he could possibly be any more turned on than he was in that moment. you held his shoulders in an attempt to balance yourself, dragging your clit over his thigh. you were making a mess out of his hero costume but he couldn't be bothered to care in the slightest. not when the pressure of you against him felt so right. not when he could feel your breath fanning against his ear. not when he was still processing the fact that you said you only wanted him on that phone call. nothing else mattered except the way you moved against him.

where should he put his hands? should he help you? should he take the shirt off of you? yeah, denki wasn't a virgin, but this was his first time with someone he cared about as much as you. he wanted to make you feel good.

you remedied his racing mind when you placed one of his hands on your hip and the other on one of your tits. he experimentally rolled your nipple over in between his fingers and was met by more of your delicious mewls.

you were so close to cumming. the entire situation was so overwhelming. denki smelled so good. his hands were so rough against your smooth skin. the way his eyes flickered between your face and your drooling cunt had your heart racing.

the rhythm in your movements was lost the more worked up you got. it took all the confidence denki could gather to take over for you. he flexed his thigh muscle as he pulled down on your hips to grind you against him harder. you had half the mind to be embarrassed at how loud the moan that was ripped from your throat was.

"'m close, denki i-i'm close—" you whimpered.

"cmon pretty girl—ngh—cum for me. cum all over me like a good girl." denki's raspy, arousal soaked voice was all it took for you to come undone all over him. you threw your head back, exposing your throat that was just begging to be marked. you were begging to be claimed.

little "so good"s and "thank you"s were tumbling from your lips as you came down from your high. god, were you a sight to behold. denki was so painfully hard he wasn't sure if he could take it any longer.

he was half expecting you to come to and ask him to leave.

but you didn't.

you started moving again.

"more, i need more. daddy, please, i need more—"

what did you say?

the title snapped any remaining resolve denki had left. he had to have you.

he gently lifted you off of his thigh and you groaned at the loss of contact. but, your complaints were silenced as he slid down the bed.

holy shit.

all those dreams you had of denki making you cum couldn't even begin to prepare you for when he pulled you forward to sit on his face. you almost came just at the way his eyes met yours. he wanted this just as much as you did.

the feeling of his tongue kitten licking your clit was heavenly. your senses were overloaded with him. the way his lips felt against your core. the way his hair framed his face like a halo. the way his hands dug into your thighs so tight you couldn't even consider moving. you absolutely lost your mind when he slid two fingers into your hole. they were so much bigger than yours. they reached that spot inside you that you couldn't on your own. and when you felt a little spark of electricity on your clit, you were sent tumbling over the edge and into a state of pure bliss.

"kami, kami, fuck, i-i'm cumming!"

he found your pathetic babbles in an attempt to warn him adorable.

surely after you had came all over his face you would snap out of your haze. feel disgusting. ask him to leave.

and yet, you didn't.

"need you. need you to fuck me." you quietly expressed between whimpers.

"y/n, a-are you sure? i don't wanna take advantage of you or anything-"

"yes i'm sure, please! i've wanted this for so long. i need you." your eyes met his as you begged and it, it sounded like you. not like the spell that overtook you. you were desperate, but you were genuine.

kami swore he had never seen someone look so fucking beautiful in his life.

and he couldn't tear his eyes off of you as he flipped you both over, his hips hovering over yours.

while the thought of denki being fully clothed as he wrecked you turned you on more than you cared to admit, you wanted to touch him. you wanted to feel his skin against yours.

denki laughed breathlessly at the way you grabbed at the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. he slid his pants down enough to free his aching cock, the head red and leaking with proof of his arousal.

you don't think you would've torn your eyes away from the way he stroked himself for all the money in the world.

"what, you like what you see?" kami attempted to ease the tension, noticing your stare.

"kami."

"what?"

you pulled his head down to meet yours as your lips connected in a kiss. not a drunken new years eve kiss. not a kiss of desire and convenience through your sex crazed daze. a real kiss. a real fucking kiss. he whimpered into your mouth at the intimacy of it all.

god, he was in love with you.

he slid the head of his cock over your slit, gathering your juices. shy, his eyes met yours.

"are you sure?"

"yeah."

the feeling of him sinking into you drove both of you mad. he was so big. bigger than anyone you’ve ever taken. and you were so, so, so goddamn tight. the room was silent apart from the sound of your tangled whimpers and moans. 

he looked down to where your bodies met and, oh man, was it a beautiful sight. your hips looked so small compared to his one hand holding you in place. it felt as though your tight little cunt was made for him. 

“princess, look at it. look at how good you take me.” you opened your eyes through the pleasure mixed with pain and he was only halfway in. how the hell was he so big? you moaned at the sight of him sinking into you. “can i keep going, babydoll? you gonna take daddy一ngh一take daddy all the way like a good girl? cmon, princess, you’re doing so good.”

denki was always a talker. he was funny. he was flirty. he was kinda stupid. but you never expected that his words could get you impossibly hornier. in that moment, all you wanted to do was please him. “daddy, keep going, keep going please. i wanna cum all over your cock, please.”

with the way you begged for him to fill you up, denki didn’t think he could wait to feel himself bottom out. he buried his head in your neck, pushing in until he was fully sheathed inside of you. god, he sounded heavenly.

“fucking shit, doll. how are you so tight?” your pussy held his cock in a vice grip. his best girl, making him so proud. 

“denki, denki,”

“what’s that?” his hand on his hip drifted up to your jaw, gripping your chin and leading you to look into his eyes.

“mmh--daddy,”

good girl.

“daddy, ‘m gonna cum, wanna cum so bad,”

“pl-please don’t! i wanna cum with you, if that’s okay? please don’t cum yet.” it was almost cute how his attempt at dominance faded as he begged you. the idea itself sounded heavenly. 

“yeah, yeah, okay, just--please move. please.”

denki placed his hand holding your chin on the bed next to you as he pistoned his hips in and out of you. a moan was torn from your throat as denki’s eyes rolled back into his head.

his pace didn’t increase as he smiled at how your face contorted impossibly hotter.

“you like that? huh? you like when一shit一you like when daddy fucks you nice and slow?”

in all honesty, denki hated how slow he forced himself to fuck you. he just wanted to hear you beg.

“faster!”

“then beg for it.”

you rolled your eyes as you decided to ruin denki just as bad. “daddy, please, please, please fuck me, i’ve wanted your cock for so long i just need you to fuck me! please, i’ll be good, i swear! I need you to fuck me like i deserve. like your bad little girl. please!” 

the direct eye contact you held as you begged him drove kami feral. you smirked as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

“haah一whatever you want, angel.” denki’s hips slammed in and out of you faster than your brain could process. the sounds of skin meeting skin mixed perfectly with the sound of his breathy little moans and you screaming his name.

kami wrapped one of your legs around his waist, the new angle making his cock stroke that spot inside you just right. kami knew he struck gold when he felt the way you gripped him impossibly tighter.

“yeah? ‘s that the spot? ‘m i making you feel good? tell me im making you feel good.” deep down, you both knew that his words came from a spot of needing to please you. he masked his insecurities with a false sense of dominance. for his sake, you pretended not to notice.

“yeah! god, yeah, right there. god you’re making me一hnngh一making me feel so good.”

“shit, doll, ‘m getting close.” denki’s forehead met yours as one of his hands wrapped gently around the column of your throat. 

you were a goddamn wreck. you needed his cum inside of you so bad. the decision to tell him so proved to be the straw to break the camel’s back.

“cum for me, daddy. cum inside me. please.”

with that, kami gave one, two, three, half hearted strokes before cumming deep inside you. the feeling of his cum filling you up snapped the coil building inside of you. you squirted all over his cock as his pelvis bone dragged against your clit. denki didn’t have any strength left in him left to do anything but whine at the sight. 

2:18 am

you’re not sure when either of you collapsed in sleep. yet, when you woke up an hour later, you felt like you had been hit by a car.

you stood up and tried to waddle to the bathroom, but you almost fell to the floor as you attempted to move. Denki heard the squeak of your mattress as you flopped back down. 

“where--where are you going?” denki asked you, sitting up. his raspy voice was so hot. god, was it everything this man did? did he just live to make you horny?

“i need to pee.”

“then go pee.”

“i--i can’t walk.”

denki stared clueless through the dark. why couldn’t you walk?

oh. 

his face turned bright red.

“do you, uh, need… help?” he sensed more than saw you nod. he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and walked around the bed. he collected you in his arms as he supported your weight and walked you to the bathroom door. in the bathroom light, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the hickeys littering your neck.

he waited outside the bathroom until he heard the faucet turn off. you slid back into his arms as you opened the door.

it was like you belonged there.

denki wanted to say something. he wanted to ask. he had to know. did you really want what happened? was it a one time thing? were you mad at him? he was terrified of you asking him to leave. 

“denki, what?” you asked quietly as you both walked back.

“huh?” 

“i know you’re thinking about something.” you both sat back on the bed.

“no i’m not! i’m all good.” he smiled and scratched the back of his neck. 

“denki, i know you. talk to me.” you put your hand over his in the dark. god, you were not making this easy.

“it’s, i just, what was that? did you want that? did i take advantage of you? are you okay?”

“denki.” 

“was i okay? are we ever gonna do that again? i mean, i’d like to but not if you don’t want--”

“denki.”

“do you even know how i feel about you?”

“denki.”

the raise of your voice was gentle. you weren’t mad. it sounded like you were smiling. you turned your head to face him. he could see your eyes sparkle through the dark.

“i don’t regret anything about what we just did. you didn’t take advantage of me. i’m okay.  that was the best sex i’ve ever had, and honestly, i’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.”

denki let out a breath he didn’t know that he was holding. “wait, what was that last part?” you could hear the tease and smile in his voice through the dark.

“i’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.” your voice was small.

“oh. me too.” his voice was smaller.

you were quiet for a few moments before you both gathered everything left inside of you as you turned to face each other.

“i’m in love with you.” you said in tandem.

you both were too shy to do anything except stare at each other and smile.

“you mean that?” he asks.

“yeah. do you?”

“yeah.”

he leaned forward to capture your lips in a sleepy kiss. he missed the first time, and his lips landed on the space between your lips and your nose. you both giggled.

not to sound cliche, but the kiss was magical. you felt like you did back in UA, staring at the ceiling and thinking about how kami called you gorgeous that day. you felt like you did when you kissed him that new years eve, those feelings bubbling up inside of you. if denki knew that was how you felt, he would’ve said he felt the same way, just times ten. times a thousand.

“hey y/n?”

“yeah?”

“can i uh, take you out tomorrow night?”

“kaminari, I just begged you to cum inside me and you’re asking to take me out on a date?”

he giggled. “yeah.”

“of course you can take me out tomorrow night.” kaminari licked his lips and smiled.

“good. WAIT-” 

“yes, denki, i’m on the pill!”

he flopped back against the mattress. “thank god!”

[donutloverxo]

The donut mishap

Note - This is the first of my soft!reader series. I'll try to post them chronologically now on. Note that this is set in 2013. And a dear friend helped me out with this. Thanks a lot to her <3.

Summary - A quest of baking donuts brings you to the avengers tower. But what happens when your paths cross with the star spangled man?

Warnings - curse words, steves ptsd

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2.3k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You squinted your eyes concentrating on putting just the right amount of pressure on the piping bag to get the perfect swirl of frosting on the cupcake. Your breathe hitched as a little air bubble appeared, aside from that it looked perfect. With a nice stiff peak.

You smiled looking over the cupcakes and donuts; over 12 hours of work. You felt like a proud mama.

When you started working at the Bakery, granted you only did so because you loved how cute their desserts looked but never could afford them, you thought you’d get to make money off of your love for baking.

Instead they stuck you in the back, doing books and maintaining accounts. Yeah you were going to grad school to be an accountant but it still wasn’t fair!

You never got to learn anything new about baking, or even try any delicious pastries. You just spent 4 hours everyday playing with the numbers.

And then you got a call from Linda, your boss. Panicking about how the head chef is sick and they have an order from the Avengers.

The Avengers were just a bit controversial. But for the most part everyone was grateful for them and looked up to them.

You can’t disappoint them. They’re superheros! Literal gods!

You didn’t really have much of an opinion on them. Except that the God of thunder from space made you all tingly sometimes.

You were just happy you got the chance to make such variety of desserts. Maybe now you could convince Linda to let you help out in the kitchen every now and then.

“You’re going to have to deliver them yourself.” Linda said looking them over and taking a small bite from the mint macaroon. “Take a taxi. Think you can handle it?” She handed you a hundred dollar bill.

There were only two boxes, one with the donuts and another with different assortments of patisseries. You accepted the bill and called for an Uber.

Normally the bakery doesn’t do delivery but when someone even mentioned Tony Starks name, Linda agreed to deliver, almost gave it away for free.

You made it to the tower in one piece. Glad to know that all the desserts seemed like they were doing alright in the boxes. You craned your neck up to look at the tower. Yet you couldn’t see the top.

You tried your best to be careful with the giant pink boxes in your hands muttering ‘excuse me' to anyone you may come across so as to not bump into them. You gently lay the boxes on the reception counter. Giving the brunette receptionist a huge warm smile.

“These are for Pepper Potts. Should I just leave them here...” You trailed off.

Looking around to see everyone dressed to the nines in sleek business formal clothes. You were wearing your pink dress with small red strawberries splattered all across it, it ended just below your knees, maybe not the perfect dress for the beginning of fall, or making a delivery for that matter. It made you feel self-conscious you tried your best to not think about how unprepared you must seem.

Which wasn’t entirely your fault. They were the ones that expected such a large order in under 12 hours.

“Alright ma'am you can go up and set them up.” She said hanging up the phone and giving you a visitors pass.

“Oh I...” You wanted to disagree. Ask for someone else to do it. You just KNEW you were going to mess it up.

But you couldn’t really say anything when she smiled “Thank you.” Probably in a way to shoo you off and deal with the person behind you.

You somehow made your way to the elevator, asking for directions twice, only it was too crowded and you were running out of time. “I’ll take the next one.” You said, although no one really seemed to care, they were either looking at their phones or chatting with each other.

A nervous smile painted on your face, so you could delude yourself into thinking everything is fine to calm your nerves. You couldn’t even afford to take your phone out of your sling bag to look at the time, not with your hands occupied.

After waiting for forever you were able to get into an elevator which was only occupied with a few people. Finally you were at your desired floor.

You were to take the boxes to conference room B12.

So you looked around, distracted. Your mother had always told you that your absent mindedness will one day come to bite you in the ass.

‘Try living in reality once in a while.’ She had said in such a condescending tone.

You huffed back then, thinking you were fine just the way you are. Until you bumped into what you thought was a brick wall, too distracted by the numbers and signs and twists and turns.

You quickly looked in front of you, when you felt the boxes you had held up collide with something. It wasn’t a wall, it was what looked like a human man. You tried to balance your feet stumbling back a bit before falling flat on your ass.

“Omph” You let out as you felt the cold hardwood floor sting your behind. Your precious donuts and desserts falling to the ground.

You looked at the ruins, how the frosting and sprinkles decorated the floor, taking it all in, asking yourself if this is a dream.

By the angle you were sitting in, you were sure the man could see your underwear, but you didn’t care. Because you were completely ruined.

You looked up at him, your lips quivering and your eyes glossy. “Why?” You asked as he stared at you completely dumbfounded, as if he had never seen a girl before.

Steve wanted to refuse right away. As soon as they said the words ‘honor’ and ‘appreciate’. A ceremony just to honor him and thank him for his service to his country.

He did try to convince Tony that he hated such things. To be the centre of attentions and plaster on a pageant smile for all the flashing cameras. That is not what he signed up for. His goal was never to get fame and recognition.

He ultimately had to relent. Because it was supposed to be an inspiration for others and to ‘boost morale’.

“Just flash your perfect pearly whites for a few hours, it’s really not that hard.” Tony said slapping Steve’s shoulder. As if they’ve been friends forever and he doesn’t take some kind of sick sadistic pleasure in watching Steve suffer.

They spoke of how brave he was, how even as a sickly kid he stood up for what was right. For his country.

Really he could tolerate all that. Even be grateful for it.

But his anxiety came back as they showed pictures from the wartimes, projected onto the white screen.

He’s a hero they said.

So brave.

Selfless and compassionate.

A man out of time.

Lies. Blatant lies. He was far from a hero. He knew that. But he realized the extent of it when he saw the pictures, some of them familiar to him, having happened just in front of him not so long ago, even if it had been decades for everyone else.

All of his brothers, his best friend died. Protecting their country. For their duty. They made the ultimate sacrifice and were more than happy to do so.

He recalled one commander saying how he would love to die serving his country. It would be his greatest accomplishment.

And here he was. Wearing a suit that he had no doubt cost thousands of dollars. Drinking expensive champagne, giving interviews, having his face on magazine covers. Taking pictures with his ‘fans'. Living the high life.

How the fuck was he a hero?!

He couldn’t look at the remaining pictures or listen to them. He tried to zone them out, tune out his anxiety and his guilt. To not let his mind go to those dark places, to linger on the past. Nothing good would come out of it.

He could still do good. Be good. Wash off his sins. If he kept trying and moving forward. If only it wasn’t so hard.

There was no such thing washing your sins off of you. No one can resolve their sins by simply confessing to them in church. Or counting thousands of hail marys. His hands and his soul will always be tainted with blood.

Somehow he got through the whole thing. He was about to run off the men’s room. To take a breathe and collect his thoughts.

Tony stopped him “What’s with your resting bitch face Rogers?” He snarked but was taken aback by the scowl he received “Fine go. Remember we have a meeting with the corporal.”

Which was what the whole ruse was all about. To appease the army. He was surprised at just how bad the whole world is, but he couldn’t even begin to comprehend the shitshow that the army had become.

He rubbed his face sprinting towards the balcony. To get some fresh air, be alone as long as he can before he has to go back to being Captain America.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t hear your footsteps, which his sensitive hearing really should’ve picked up on.

He turned the corner only bump into you. Making you fall on your ass.

“Why?” You gave him a look of betrayal as tears fell down your face. You wiped your cheek with the back of your hand kneeling and working on putting your desserts back in the box.

“Oh my god... ma’am I’m so sorry.” He apologized as soon as he registered what he had down. Crouching down before you to help you clean it up. But he doubted that you would be able to eat them.

“All my work.” You moaned looking up and meeting his eyes.

Your defeated face almost made him pull you into his arms. But it wouldn’t exactly be proper to do that to a stranger.

“Don’t call me ma'am!” You huffed as more tears escaped your eyes. “I’m not like 50!” You crossed your legs sitting on the floor and staring at your boxes.

“What should I call you then?” He asked his tone gentle and inquisitive. Truly curious to know what your name was.

“How about you call me nothing? You’ve done enough.” You frowned as you looked into his crystal blue hues. He was simply put beautiful.

You never thought that’s the adjective you’d use to describe a man, but that was all you could think of.

However his beauty didn’t excuse his actions. It certainly wouldn’t bring back the desserts you worked so hard on. So all you could do was be mad at him.

“I can pay for them.” He blurted out and then winced. You probably made them yourself. He can’t exactly replace them.

“It was the first time I truly baked. And now I’ll lose my job.” You sniffled tracing the frosting which was smeared on the floor with your finger. “And the Avengers will all go hungry...” You rambled your voice small. All you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry into a pillow.

You sneered at him as he chuckled. He immediately stopped pressing his lips into a straight line. “I doubt they’ll go hungry. I promise you won’t lose your job. No one has to know.” He reasoned. His plump rosy lips stretch into a smile, that must be worth at least a million dollars. His eyes creasing and yeah he really was beautiful.

You felt your anger resolving but decided to remain firm. To not let him work his charms on you. “They will call my boss when the delivery doesn’t arrive. And my boss will fire me!” You exclaimed spelling it out for him. Since he seemed to fit the stereotype of the dumb pretty blonde. Or was that exclusive to women?

“I can promise you no one will tell your boss.” He hesitated but then put his hand over yours in an effort to reassure you.

“What? How – how will you do that?” You asked getting more and more frustrated that he failed to understand just how grave this situation was for you.

“I uh... do have that kind of authority.” He said giving you a small nod. At least he could do some good with this ‘status' he held.

“Hm” You hummed still suspicious. But he was wearing a suit which looked expensive. His stance seemed that of someone who was powerful. His voice although soft held some stern undertones. “I – how do I believe you?” You asked and laughed at your misery as you realized you didn’t really have a choice.

Finally, pressing a palm on the floor you got up. Collecting your boxes. “It’s okay.” You sighed. “I guess I wasn’t really looking either. Whatever happens I’ll deal with it.” You said giving him a somber look.

“Uh – are you sure?” He stammered afraid he got you in trouble and couldn’t really do anything about it. Even more so that you were leaving and he’d probably never get to see you again.

“I’m not really a liar.” You shrugged as he stood up with you.

You didn’t have the opportunity to marvel at his tall stature, and how big he was compared to you. Or just big in general. You simple turned around your head hung low.

Only to look back at him over your shoulder. You tried to suppress a whimper, at just how hopeless you were, and asked “Which way is the elevator?”

Tags will be in the reblog! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or shoot me an ask/dm.

Please note that my work is NOT to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.10)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Ten) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,259 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death

Part Nine || Part Eleven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“I gotta run,” Natasha informed Wanda quietly, pulling her aside.

“Is there a problem?” Wanda asked concerned.

“Not yet.”

“Okay?” Wanda said, cocking an eyebrow.

Natasha was not going to give her anything else at the moment before she talked to Steve. “It’s fine. Don’t let Y/N worry about me being gone. Help her enjoy the party.”

“Alright,” Wanda responded, and Natasha nodded, before turning on her heel and walking off quickly to make sure to be out of the house before Y/N and Natalie emerged from the bathroom.

On her way out the door to her car, Natasha texted Steve.

I’m on my way to Tony’s. Don’t leave until I get there.

Is there something wrong?

Not immediate. I’ll be there soon.

<> <> <>

Natalie pulled away from you after a while – she had to have let you cry for a good few minutes – and wiped at your tears. “Here,” she said gently, leaving you to go towards the linen cupboard. She pulled out a washcloth and grabbed a small handful of toilet paper too. You thanked her, sniffling, wiping at your tears before using the tissue to blow your nose. You were sure you looked cute with snot hanging out there.

“Look. What can you do? Realistically?” Natalie asked you quietly.

Your shoulders slumped and you whispered, “Nothing.”

“No, not nothing, Y/N. You can hold your chin up,” Natalie told you, her fingers pushing your chin up as she spoke. She paused before asking, “Are you willing to leave the babies behind?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you pondered for a few seconds. You ended up shaking your head. “I… I thought so when this first all started out. But how can I leave two babies behind? They would financially be well taken care of, yes. But… I just can’t,” you said breathing shakily. “I don’t know if I could live with myself.”

“Well, I was only asking because I wondered if you did… if you thought Steve would leave you be. Even if you ran off.”

You shook your head again, giving a humorless laugh. “No, I don’t think Steve would leave me be. Bryce said he didn’t think Steve would kill me if I ran away. Which to me insinuates he would hurt or kill anyone else who tried to help me. I am hard pressed to believe that he wouldn’t want to kill me though. He’s not a man to wound, especially emotionally. Everyone talks to me like I’m… his property. That I’m carrying his property too.”

Solemnly, Natalie told you, “Some people treat others that way. That’s obsession, not love.”

“Or they’re all just misogynistic fucks. I mean… Pepper even told me that she dealt with it with Tony! He threatened to shoot me a couple weeks ago, by the way.”

“Excuse me?” Natalie demanded, staring at you in absolute shock.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

“Y/N?” Miriam called from outside the door. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’ll be out in a second,” you called back. To Natalie, you whispered, “Shit, we have been in for a long while.”

Natalie grasped your shoulders, “You go out there. I’m going to go upstairs and pack you a bag.”

“What?” you asked flabbergasted.

“You heard me. My cousin has a cabin in New Hampshire. I’m going to take you there and then we can figure out what we are going to do next.”

“I—” you tried to argue but Natalie shushed you.

“Go out there. Be with them.”

“Natalie, I can’t,” you hissed, thinking of Wanda and Natasha out in the living room. “You just told me I didn’t have a plan! Plus, Tony’s got technology everywhere and Steve won’t let me go. Did you miss me saying he would ki—”

“If we leave during this party while everyone is distracted, Y/N, they won’t know which direction we went.”

“Your license plate—”

Natalie covered your mouth and said, “We need to stop arguing about this and just do it. I’m not going to leave here without you. It has to be now.”

She stared deep into your eyes, challenging you to argue with her. You knew you were not going to be able to convince her to drop this idea, not with the fire burning in her eyes.

When she knew you were not going to say anything more, her hand fell. You swallowed thickly and turned to the mirror, wiping at your eyes one more time. “Good thing we already took pictures,” you muttered before going to the door and throwing it open.

Miriam’s brow creased seeing Natalie in there with you but you looped arms with her before she could say anything. “Sorry, I just needed to get some stress out. Poor Natalie had to endure that.” You threw a look over your shoulder at Natalie who was slow to leave the bathroom, mouthing her a thanks.

Your heart was pounding in anticipation.

<> <> <>

Natalie waited until Miriam and Y/N were out of sight before turning and going towards the entrance hall to the stairs leading upstairs. Quietly, she made her way up the stairs and searched around the second floor, looking for their bedroom.

There was a note on a door handle she passed by and she hesitated.

Don’t open until after you open your gifts. Love you, Steve.

Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the door, thinking it was possibly their bedroom and Steve had left her something on their bed. Behind the door though laid the nursery. She swallowed sharply seeing balloons attached to the crib, no doubt a gift Steve had left in surprise for Y/N. It was oak grey, matching the dresser.

Quickly closing the door, Natalie continued on, trying to not think about the cameras that she was more than likely being filmed on right now and what Y/N had warned her about Steve’s wrath. Getting her friend to safety was more important than worrying about the what-ifs.

<> <> <>

Finding Natasha gone quelled your nausea slightly but not entirely. One less Avenger on the premises was cause for you to be more hopeful about Nataile’s rash plan working. Especially since Bryce was in the theater room, engrossed in a Michael Bay-esque film.

You grasped Yua’s arm as the group merged towards the patio where the cake was waiting and another few yard games. You asked her quietly, “You came with Natalie, right?”

“Mhm,” Yua affirmed, holding your arm back.

“When you two leave, I am going with you.”

“What?”

“Not so loud,” you whispered to her. “You just… if you don’t want to get involved, then get a ride home with Miriam. Please.”

“’Involved’? Y/N, what is going on?” Yua asked, stopping you and making you face her.

You leaned in and whispered, “I’m leaving. Natalie is taking me. She’s packing me a bag – hopefully getting herself some clothes too.” You were being vague, worrying still about the security cameras. “There is a lot of risk. Now, think about it. I need to go cut my cake and act normal.”

Without another word, you left her there, moving towards the table where the rest of the ladies were gushing over how beautiful the cake was.

<> <> <>

Steve was on Natasha as soon as she pulled up and got out of the car.

“Can we go inside?” she asked, staring up at him.

It did not seem like he wanted to wait because he rolled his eyes but stepped back and she moved around him, him on her heels.

“What happened?” Steve demanded as he followed her through the front door.

“Where’s Tony?”

“Why am I being dragged into this?” Tony drawled as she walked in from the hallway. He was on the couch in front of the flatscreen, arms sprawled along the back of the couch.

“Because it’s your man too.”

Tony was interested suddenly, sitting up straighter. Steve stood off to the side of the couch, waiting impatiently for Natasha to get to the point.

She met his eyes and asked seriously, “Has Bryce talked to you? About Y/N asking him for help to leave?”

Steve’s face pinched. “No,” he said sharply. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh boy,” Tony breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I heard her. Talking to her friend, Natalie, in the bathroom. I was outside and doing some rounds to get some air. Thought it was a little weird they were both in the bathroom. So, I got near the bushes and heard them talking about it. Y/N was going on about how she feels trapped—” Steve’s jaw clenched at this, not going unnoticed by Natasha. But she kept speaking anyway. “And how she wants it to work with you but doesn’t think you’ll ever let her breathe and have her own space. Said she knows Natalie warned her about you, but you were too sweet, and she didn’t care about the warning.”

Steve scoffed, hands coming to his hips. He sucked at his teeth, shaking his head.

“So, what about Bryce?” Tony asked impatiently.

“She said she asked Bryce to help her leave Steve,” Natasha explained. “And he wouldn’t help her and made her promise she wouldn’t try to leave. But it sounded like she had another plan. Something about taking a train and stealing someone’s ticket at the station so she wouldn’t be on camera at the ticket counter – presumably so you wouldn’t know where she was going. She said something outlandish about living at a church and taking them up on hospitality and working for them to make up for it. Which, Natalie to her credit, told her that was a dumb plan. And Y/N agreed. But she wanted Natalie in the bathroom with her to use her phone, again presumably, so you couldn’t see the search in her phone.” Natasha caught Steve’s eyes again and told him firmly, “When you said she was rattled when this all first started, she hasn’t settled, Steve. She’s a mess of nerves. And she definitely sounds like she’s willing to be impulsive and reckless about it.”

It was silent in the room, Steve’s fingers digging into his hips. His jaw was clenched so tightly Natasha thought of him cracking his teeth.

“That little, conniving bitch!” Steve growled, his hands falling to his sides and he began storming towards the hallway.

Natasha stepped in his path and he stopped, rearing up to glower at her, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Move, Nat,” Steve warned her in a dangerous voice.

“I came here specifically to tell you so you would not lose your shit in the middle of a party,” Natasha told Steve firmly. “So, can you do me a favor and respect that? Cool out and think?”

“I don’t think this warrants me cooling off and giving Y/N any sense of calm,” Steve returned, his voice rising. “She was going to leave me and take my children away from me, Nat!”

Tony chimed in from behind Steve, “I think the problem here is Bryce not telling you,” Steve craned his head to look back at him. Tony looked right pissed off, rivaling Steve. “Woman is hormonal, standing on shaky ground emotionally. Bryce has his head on right – or at least we thought he did. Him agreeing to not help her is working in his favor but he shouldn’t keep that shit to himself. He should have told you the moment it happened. Just making her promise to not do something isn’t going to do shit, especially if she’s promising him. What is he to her? Her bodyguard? Whoopee fucking doo.” Tony shook his head. “No, that’s fucked up. He had a duty to tell you.”

Steve’s cell phone rang interrupting the conversation, and he swore under his breath, pulling it out of his back pocket. He furrowed down at it before answering tightly, “Wanda?”

Natasha took a step closer, trying to hear her on the other end of the phone. Steve’s face fell for a moment, like the air had gotten kicked out of him.

He recovered quickly, demanding furiously, “What the hell do you mean she’s not there?”

Tony was standing now, at attention. He was watching Steve nervously, thinking of a super soldier losing his shit and breaking shit in his house.

“How long?” Steve shouted, losing his temper. He shook his head furiously and snarled, “Twenty minutes doesn’t give them long to get anywhere. And why were you doing dishes? Where the hell was Bryce—never mind. You know what. Just stay there. Have Bryce and the security check the grounds again.”

He hung up, holding his cell in his hands tightly. Steve was trembling with rage, his hand threatening to crush his phone. Tony and Natasha were silent, waiting for him to react. He breathed in deeply, over exaggerated, turning on his heel to walk towards the counter. He placed his phone down, gingerly despite his anger. His hands planted, his fingertips digging into the counter like he wanted to tear chunks off.

“If she is not there…” he trailed off. Exhaling, he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. His hands came up behind his hand, trying to stop himself from breaking Tony’s countertop in half with his fist.

“The train stations,” Natasha suggested, keeping her voice steady.

A few more deep breaths and Steve had the calm about him to say, “Someone else needs to drive because I’ll probably rip that goddamn steering wheel off.”

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog 

[iaintyourbro]

Let’s Talk About... On the Way to a Smile: Case of Tifa and The Kids are Alright: A Turks Side Story

Yes, I couldn’t sleep... again. I’ve gotten good at staying up two days at a time. Then sleeping and going back to it. I suppose it’s the quarantine... Which is only going to get worse it seems...

In any case, I finally got to read Case of Tifa... and... if you came out of that thinking they weren’t a thing... I don’t know what to tell you. I honestly went in to it expecting it to seem very ambiguous and very non-Cloti (in a sense). 

What struck me, first of all is the amount of guilt Tifa talks about having. Tifa seems to be just as bad as Cloud is, she just deals with it differently. Oddly enough, Cloud doesn’t show that much guilt immediately. Tifa is the one who is struggling with this major guilt initially. 

So let’s start with some screenshots (pictures?) I took of excerpts I found interesting. Some I’m sure you’ve seen before. 

Here we have Tifa talking about the guilt. She also feels insanely guilty for what happened to not only Aerith, but everything else that happened (Sector 7 Plate Drop/Avalanche). The other weird thing about this... and this is legit at the end of the OG... she almost is convincing herself that she should stay alive. I found a lot of sadness in that. And it’s not because of anything Cloud did. No... actually I think that’s what snaps her out of it. 

Of course we have a smiling Cloud. You’re going to see Cloud smiles... a lot... and he laughs too, which I really hope they show him laughing because I don’t know what it sounds like... 

I’m sure everyone has seen this. It’s the next page after Tifa calls Cloud out on his bright dork smile he’s giving. I mean he fucking says he has her. And that he knows what that means. 

I... I don’t know how you can’t take this in a romantic sense. Maybe because the guy barely smiles so to me this is massive. Maybe because he had a hell of a time telling her anything down Under the Highwind. I don’t know. But this seems like something that’s profound to tell a person. That’s the end of that section (teases - perfect moment for a kiss). 

I like the “What about you? Are you okay?” Strikes me as something we saw in Chapter 17 when you first get control of Tifa and Aerith, right? “What about you, Tifa? How are you doing?”

Tifa loses it, crying. Guilt, guilt, guilt. They talk more about Tifa’s guilt than they do Cloud’s guilt. Cloud comforts her here. Another profound thing at this point, but... we are seeing him do this in Remake already. The hug is the major one... 

But things like when he grabs her from having a crate fall on her... he could have pulled her out of the way and let her go or pushed her (like Leslie does in the sewers). No, he holds on to her. She actually is the first one to let go here. (Look how cute they are PSPSPSPSPSPSPS)

So this whole part just cracks me up. For one, it shows that these three were busy doing stuff together and slept under the plate, even though it could collapse. 

I HOPE WE GET A GODDAMN VISUAL OF THIS. Barret making happy Cloud and Tifa drinks? LAUGHING THEIR ASSES OFF?!  Barret talking about his past?!

“The other two [Cloud and Tifa] couldn’t remember the last time they’d laughed so much.” 

Let’s be real... probably when they were like 14 - maybe. 

There’s also a part later down that I didn’t get where Barret makes fun of them for getting trashed during this night. I would kill to ALSO see that. 

But... laughing, drunk Cloud? Laughing, drunk Tifa? Plz. 

Happy... sounds like the correct term.

Now there are moments as time goes on - mainly after the bar is open - where Tifa thinks about once the bar gets ready, is Cloud going to leave...

This is where I think people take it as they’re nothing. Tifa I think just has a very hard time accepting that not everything is going to be taken away from her. The impression I got from reading this is it was all in her head. Cloud himself gave no indication that he wanted to leave. (The Geostigma catalyst is later)

And here’s why I said I got no feeling that Cloud wanted to leave. (Oh here’s more about Tifa’s guilt). Above this, Marlene says Cloud and Tifa can be her parents and the two look at each other. Cloud doesn’t look away. Cloud also says Awesome with conviction. Looks at Tifa almost to confirm it’s okay... but these two like to talk without words. I think he knew she was getting nervous, so this was his way of saying “See? I’m not going anywhere?” 

Marlene gave him a nice little assist here so he didn’t have to say anything and Tifa didn’t have to ask. 

Tifa, I think, was already going through her major guilt turmoil - she had an immediate reaction to it. I think she knew, deep down, that Cloud eventually WOULD have this problem, and when she sees the slip from Elmyra for the Forgotten City, I think she knew that was the catalyst. 

“Stop worrying about what they were to each other.” I’ve seen a lot of jokes, mostly on Japanese Twitter posts, that Cloud assumed Tifa was his girlfriend. Like, he didn’t realize he needed to tell her that. I read a post about this somewhere too, that they got the impression Cloud (in the land of Cloud’s mind...) got was that Tifa was his girlfriend and knew this. I’m not sure if it’s because of Under the Highwind, I don’t know if it’s because he pulled the same shit on her and talked to her while she was sleeping. I have no idea. 

To me, Cloud and Tifa don’t have to say they’re boyfriend and girlfriend. It seems kind of funny after all they’ve been through. They’re almost like extensions of each other at this point. 

Okay so the above is from The Kids are Alright. Evan goes to see Tifa at the bar because he just saw Cloud and needs to get to Nibelheim. And Cloud tells him to talk to Tifa. 

I have to laugh about this Evan staring at chest line... lololol

Let’s talk about how she describes Aerith. “Friend doesn’t do her justice.”

...Did Tifa have romantic feelings for Aerith? Probably not (though we’d all be fine with it because Aerti is adorable). @holysmotez​ Made a very good post about how Aerith can be seen more as a holy/religious figure. I think Tifa saying this really does enforce that with me as well. 

Also this is the part where you find out there’s blackmail pictures of all three of them in the dresses: Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith. 

But I marked an interesting one - “I’ll be fine. And I’ve got Cloud, too.” She sounded confident.

Now, I was blowing through this at this point. I will go back and do a normal reading of it, but after this, Kyrie and Evan go on a journey round the world it feels like. There’s Nibelheim talk. They talk about some of the people who were killed during the Reunion and are found at the northern crater. 

And here is the end of The Kids are Alright. 

Cloud tells Evan that they’re a family. 

This is AT THE END OF AC when the church is being utilized as a way to heal folks. On thing that also seems odd... A lot of people were under the impression that Cloud disappeared for months... but it was like a week. Tifa blows him a kissy kissy at the end of the movie, then apparently walks up with him and the kids to see Evan and Kyrie - very family like. 

I also did not get any jealousy vibes from Tifa and no I’m hiding this cuz Aerith feelings from Cloud.

The part where he tells her where he found Denzel felt more like he knew she was worried about him closing in on himself again (which he already was anyway), but her reaction didn’t come off as she felt jealous nor that she felt he was hiding it cuz feelings. She wanted to go cuz she wanted to go and be with him and maybe feel her friend (more than friend) there.

I got the same feeling as I did when he was taking extra jobs to get extra money for his bike. Like I should have told you I was there, and it wasn’t really planned. I think he was praying or whatever the equivalent would be. He was feeling guilty, going down a bad path... because he wasn’t just visiting the church in AC. He also was visiting Zack’s grave. I mean, he let the Buster Sword rust to hell out there. (Angeal knows what you did, Cloud.)

So here’s how I feel after reading this, and now I do think that Remake is setting this up better.

Aerith is the same type of person to Cloud and Tifa. They both feel the same way about her. She feels the same way about them. It’s different than a simple friendship, but it’s not romantic. Spiritual is a good way to describe this. 

There is the part where Aerith says Cloud was more than a friend, for she had loved him. By itself I’d say holy shit, wow, Aerith had romantic feelings for Cloud. After reading the rest of this, thinking of the OG, AC, CC, and Remake - yes, she loved him - but not like she loved Zack - she loved Cloud as a special person, not in a romantic sense. I think she almost felt like she had to protect him, because in this same part when she says she loved him, she also says she knows he has almost a delicate heart, but also needed to find a way to warn him about the shit about to go down. 

I think if you asked Aerith about Tifa, she’d say she loved Tifa too. I think OG didn’t do a good job of building up the Tifa and Aerith friendship to show exactly how important she really was to the whole thing, but time constraints, technology, whatever, a lot of games in the 90s suffered from this type of shit. Get the game out! We’ll figure out the rest later...

This also does not talk about Cloud’s feelings on Aerith. The only indicator we really get in this is that Cloud felt guilty that he could not protect Aerith. 

My guess is he told Tifa this at one point, probably during one of the conversations that she needed his help to stay strong. That’s not romance. He felt obligated to protect her because he was supposed to be her bodyguard, but beyond that, he just protects people. He doesn’t have to be madly in love with them. There’s a difference in how he reacts to her death and Tifa’s simulated death. Cloud is able to function, fight Jenova, and carry her off to drop her off in the lake. 

Tifa’s he completely starts to freak. We see what he does in Nibelheim and overtakes Sephiroth. I am not sure what would have happened if Sephiroth didn’t stab him and Tifa had died at that point... I really don’t know. 

In any case, you should go read these novels too. The Kids are Alright has Kyrie and Leslie in it. Evan I’m sure we will see at some point soon.

Don’t be afraid to read them... I was because of shit information online, so I hope this puts you at ease.

Oh, Barret and Cid have a conversation about Cloud and Tifa being together too... 

[wouldpollyapprove]

Demons & Angels

Requested: Hello love ! Hope you’re doing okay, can I please request something with Tommy and angst prompts 2 & 7, thank you ! Take care xx

Hey! could you do a tommy x reader w/ angst prompt #2? I feel like it just radiates his energy in a sad way ;’))

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: language, self hate, mention of suicide

A/N:I was having such tough writer’s block, but once I started this I just couldn’t stop typing. I hope you guys enjoy it. 

Masterlist

The bed shook as Tommy bolt up, a cold sweat covered his body. His breaths came out ragged, his eyes tarted around the room, investigating his surroundings. He tried to calm himself, but his eyes were stained with the horrific scene that had played out the day before. Hours before he only saw it on the back of his eyelids, but the night had muddled his brain and he was left with a never-ending nightmare. The blood, the blood just kept coming, moving along the hardwood floor.

He often started his day like that. Woken up in a cold sweat to a life he didn’t know how to leave. It was funny how only a few years before he dreamt of the war. The violence that painted his eyelids at night used to be in the name of his country. In the name of his king. In the name of his family. Now… now he wasn’t so sure. 

With every passing day, it seemed that everything he did was in the name of self-preservation. He used to do everything for his family, even if they didn’t believe so. Everything was always for them… but he always got something out of it as well. That didn’t matter though, not when he wasn’t being completely selfish. Recently, though, things had changed.

The Thomas Shelby that did things with only an ounce of selfishness had all but disappeared. He was replaced with a name that only knew how to fight for himself. Every bullet fired from his guy was only fired to keep him alive for one more day. It wasn’t for John or Arthur or Ada or Finn. It wasn’t for Polly or for Michael. It wasn’t for anyone but himself.  The stakes got higher with each gamble he made, but he was willing to accept any risk if it meant he was higher up on the food change. 

Tommy didn’t like that man, though.

He absolutely hated that man, but he didn’t know how to get rid of him. He could drown him in the bathtub but he would come back. He could pour rat poison in with his whiskey, but the man would simply spite it back out. He could jump in the canal with rocks in his pockets, but the man would just strip his clothes off. There was nothing he could do but let that man live.

So that’s what he did, but it was hard once Y/n came into his life.

Tommy didn’t believe that a man like him, a monster like him could ever find love. Lust was the only thing he believed was possible. Love just seemed too foreign. Love was meant for a good ole’ church boy, returning home from war, not a good for nothing gangster. 

Yet, Y/n believed he deserved it.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he slid out from under the covers. Once his feet hit the floor, he made his way to the kitchen. There was no way he would be sleeping any time soon, not when his demons wanted to play. A cup of tea sounded like the only remedy that would calm his nerves. Tommy would normally reach for whiskey, but his mother always made his a hot cup of tea when he’d have a bad dream. And so that is what he always did when he was woken in the middle of the night. 

His nightmare had fogged his mind and he hadn’t realized that Y/n hadn’t been in bed until he saw he at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in her hands and a book in front of her. He stood in the doorway for a minute, watching her. She had yet to notice his presence, so focused on the book in front of her. In her trance, she looked angelic, making Tommy wonder how he ever got so lucky to have her in his life. 

Tommy cleared his throat quietly, just enough to alert her to his presence, but not enough to frighten her. She looked over her shoulder at the sleepy man and gave him a sweet smile. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” she asked and watched as he walked over to the stove and put the kettle on. 

He was silent as he lite the stove and grabbed a cup out of the cabinet. “I could ask you the same thing. I thought you would be cuddled up next to me, snoring in my ear, but I was wrong.”

Y/n shook her head and set her tea down. “I’d don’t snore, Tommy. And you didn’t answer my question.”

He hummed and dumped some tea into his cup. “I wasn’t tired,” he told her. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Y/n with a raised brow, not convinced by his answer. “That’s all, dear.”

“Everyone may think you’re a good liar, but I can see right through you, Tommy. You were sound asleep when I came out here, practically dead. There is no way you weren’t tired.”

Tommy gave no reply, he simply waited for his tea to boil before pouring it in his cup. Once his tea was done, he took a seat opposite of Y/n at the table and sipped at the hot liquid. Y/n rolled her eyes, he often did this when he wanted to avoid a conversation. It was a good tactic, most people would take the hint and simply drop it. He didn’t want to talk about it. But Y/n wasn’t most people. She’d gotten the hint alright, but she knew if he kept avoiding his problems, they would never go away. They would eat away at him until he was nothing but bone.

Y/n didn’t want for him.

“What is it, Tommy? What’s bothering you?”

He let out a long sigh, he should have seen that coming. He knew better than to believe she would let it go. It wasn’t in her nature. “I’m afraid you’ll end up seeing me the way I see myself,” her boyfriend admitted. It was fear that he’d held for a long time. The second he’d laid eyes on her, he was afraid she’d see the monster underneath and run for the hills. Even after she’d witnessed his brutality, she’d stayed. Tommy wasn’t sure why any sane person would have left by now. 

“Tommy…” her voice was soft. 

“Sometimes I wish I could just fall asleep and never wake up. I am nothing but a monster, I don’t deserve anything I have but the pain I’ve been given. I don’t even know how you can stand to be with me,” he said, voice filled with disgust. Disgust of himself.

Y/n shook her head, her heartbreaking. It was no secret to her that Tommy battled with himself more than he did with others. She knew that he would take any risk because he didn’t care if he lived or died, but she cared. She cared if he was dead in a coffin. She cared if he was torn apart by bullets. Y/n cared about what happen to Tommy because she loved him. She loved him with every fiber of her being and to see him hurt, to see him hate himself, it hurt her. 

Standing from her chair, Y/n walked around the table and sat on his lap, it would be the only way to get him to look her in the eyes. “Thomas Shelby,” she said, her voice sweet like a song bird. She used her index finger to raise his chin, forcing him to look at her. “You may have done bad things in your life, but you’re not the only one. And bad actions do not make a bad man. Do you understand me?”

“Y/n-” he mumbled before she interrupted him.

“No, Tom. There is no if, and, or but her. You are a good man at heart. I know that. I know you are.” Tears lined the rims of her eyes. “I know who you are and I love you for that. I love you. I love all your good qualities and all the bad ones. I love all your demons and all your angels. I love everything about you. Do you understand that?”

He snaked his arms around her and pulled her flush against his chest. They sat like that for a long while in silence. Tommy didn’t know what to say. They had both exchanged ‘I love you’ already, it was no milestone in their relationship. But her words… they were what he never knew he needed. It was one thing to know that someone loves you, it was another to know that they loved every ounce of you. The good, the bad, the ugly, the hidden. That someone loved everything you believed unloveable. That, truly, was the best feeling in the world.

“I love you, Y/n. God, I fucking love you,” he mumbled into her hair.

The world wouldn’t get any better, not for Thomas Shelby, but it would always be bearable with Y/n by his side. With her, perhaps he could work past his demons and conquer them.

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my fics!

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

[janeyseymour]

Fight or Flight

In both the past and in this life, Jane Seymour fled from fights. They didn’t even have to be her own fights, she would still flee the scene. She was trying to get better- she really was. But it was hard to shake old habits. 

-

“Catherine! Are you fucking kidding me?” Anne would shriek.

“Shut up Bo-loser! You’re just pissed I beat you at Monopoly again!”

“You were already going to beat me anyway! Why did you have to bankrupt me?”

“That’s just the business of the game Anne.”

“Jane!” Anne whined to the blonde. “Tell Catherine that’s not fair.”

“Jane!” Catherine drew out. “Tell Anne that’s just how you play the game and to stop being a sore loser!”

“Oh, I’m the sore loser? If I can remember correctly, up until recently, you were still pissed you lost Henry to me over 400 years ago!” Anne crossed her arms.

“Because you stole him from me! This is different Anne! It’s just a stupid game!”

“Don’t be bitter cause I’m fitter!” Anne quoted her song. The two continued to go back and forth arguing, not noticing that Jane was getting more and more panicked. Before the two could go any further, blonde fled the room and made her way to the car.

“Jane!” Catherine called after her. “Jane?” 

“You two need to figure this out before I come back,” The third queen sighed as she turned on the engine. 

“It's 12:30 querida. Don't you think it’s a little late to be driving around?” the first queen tried convincing the third to come back into the house.

“I just need to-” Jane pulled away. 

At 3:30 in the morning, the silver queen pulled into the driveway safely, much to the golden queen’s relief.

-

“Katherine, I thought I asked you to take the trash out three times already? And yet it’s still sitting here? This is ridiculous!” 

“I’m right in the middle of watching this movie though!” Kat argued back, not taking her eyes off of the screen.

“You weren’t the first two times I asked you to do it!” Jane refuted.

“Can’t you just back off? I’ll get to it when I get to it!” The fifth queen turned up the volume louder. 

“Katherine Howard!” Jane’s voice boomed. 

“I-” Katherine stood up immediately and went to take out the trash.

“Was that so hard?” the usually kind queen asked in a mocking tone.

“I know you’re frustrated, but you don’t have to be such an ass about it.”

“Fuck this,” Jane stormed out of the house, car keys in hand.

Three hours later, the blonde returned, visibly more relaxed.

“I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

“You were right love. I’m sorry I was being an ass.”

-

“Jane, come on. Can’t we talk this out?” The sixth queen pleaded with her less confrontational friend.

“Love, I don’t know what there is to talk about. I desperately pleaded with you not to continue to write into the night, and you did. Because of that, you slept in and missed the one breakfast I was really looking forward to making. It really hurt my feelings, and now I’m going to go on a drive and cool down before I lose it on you.”

“Jane, I apologized a million-” the front door closed.

The blonde got into her car and began to drive. She ended up three towns over before she broke down crying. Knowing it wasn’t safe to drive in the state she was in, she pulled over into a small parking lot and turned off the car.

“I just-” she began to talk to herself and talk out her feelings, something she rarely did despite what the fandom thought. She was rather reserved in her own feelings other than the show. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

She looked up at the place she had parked. On one side of the parking lot was a tattoo parlor, and on the other was a pet store.

If Anna could have a dog and Anne was allowed to have a tattoo, why couldn’t she?

The blonde returned home with a small “VI” on her ribcage because despite the fact that the other queens angered her quite often, she knew all she would need is six. It didn’t make it any less meaningful when she remembered that her Edward was also known as Edward VI of England. And she returned with a fish: a small white betta named Eddie who she spilled her feelings to on the car ride home.

“We remade breakfast,” Cathy offered with a guilty smile.

“Thank you love. All is forgiven though.”

“You bought a fish?” Aragon tilted her head to the side slightly.

“I did. Meet Eddie.”

“After...?” Kat smiled softly.

“Yes.”

“He’s perfect,” Cleves had already begun to take out the fish tank tucked under Jane’s arms.

“I expect him to stay in your room.”

Jane Seymour spoke to the fish quite often about anything and everything hoping that maybe, just maybe, Edward up in heaven could hear her. And she never ate fish again. She couldn’t bring herself to.

-

“Anne! That’s my chocolate milk! Stop trying to take it from me!” Kat whined.

“Well, I don’t see your damn name on it, now do I?” Anne teased her cousin.

“Mum!” They both yelled at the same time.

Jane, who was up in her room and had already heard the girls yelling, found her keys and walked down the steps. 

“Mum! Tell Anne to stop taking my chocolate milk!”

“Janey, tell Kit that I can drink whatever the hell I want in the house! It’s not just her chocolate milk!”

“Well, it would’ve been nice if you would’ve at least asked!”

“You don’t ask if you can drink Janey’s almondmilk!” Anne was getting more and more frustrated.

“I used to! Right Mum?” Kat batted her eyelashes, hoping she could use some of her Howard charm on the blonde.

“Kat! That’s not fair! You can’t do that when you know she’s going to take your side as soon as you give her that look and call her Mum!”

“What I’m saying is true!”

Jane had enough of hearing the girls’ bickering over something as stupid as chocolate milk, and half shouted, “Enough!” The other two were quite startled by this outburst. “This is a ridiculous argument to begin with. Kat, you know when you’re fighting you can’t drag me into this. You also know that since we’ve all gotten more comfortable living together that if it’s a drink or something small, it’s fair game. And Anne, you know that if it’s everyday, you should probably buy some more, but you never do. It’s always up to me. And yes Kat, you did used to ask, but you know now that what's mine is yours. That doesn’t just go for her, Anne. That applies to everyone. I just ask that everything gets replaced in a timely manner. Now, are we done arguing or...?”

“Well, I was going to grab the chocolate milk, but Anne took it before I could get to-” Jane held up a hand, signifying she heard enough. Without another word, she walked out the door.

The woman came back two hours later, two gallons of chocolate milk and a sharpie in hand. She had already labelled them for the two feuding queens. To her surprise though, there were already two brand new jugs of milk. It would last them a week before they began to fight again.

-

Jane may have had a tendency to flee from fights when it was between her own family, but if someone from the outside tried to come at any of the queens, she was the first one to fight. No one was to mess with her family.

The six were sitting down for an interview about a month before their show debuted. Yes, Jane was very nurturing to all of her sisters, but the love that she felt for them was much stronger than any of them had realized.

“So,” the reporter turned to face the first queen. “The first divorce. The one responsible for the Church of England. The one responsible for Bloody Mary. Why are you the best wife?”

“Sir, I do hope that you will try to conduct this interview as professionally and as kindly as possible,” Jane butted in before any other queen could, already noticing all of their discomfort. 

“Quiet down Miss Seymour. Right now, this is focused on Aragon.” Jane eyed the interviewer before glancing at Catherine. She obviously was getting uncomfortable and was looking for a way to evade the questions at all possible costs. After a few questions of unbelievable prying and disrespect, the third queen had enough.

“You know what sir, I do think this part of the interview is over. All you’ve done is degrade Catherine and her legacy, and I’m sure I don’t want to know what you’ll say to the rest of us.”

“Jane, we can-”

“No Catherine. This man is not going to try to put us in a box anymore. We came back and started our show to show people that we aren’t just who they thought we are. So, sir, let me tell you how this is going to go down. I’m going to be asking the questions to all of the other queens, and then afterwards, you can ask me anything you please. But mark my words, if you so much as try to box us in anymore, I will lose my temper. You don’t want that.” Jane said fiercely before she folded her arms in her lap, the fire in her eyes slowly dying as she reverted back to the mild mannered woman she normally was. 

“Yes ma’am,” the reporter gulped as he wrote down a few notes.

“Okay. Catherine, can you tell me what it’s like in our household?” Jane started off kindly.

“Well Jane, we’ve all grown quite a bit since we first came back. It’s been so wonderful watching each of us go on our own journeys and see how far we’ve come since we were first reincarnated. Our house is truly a home, and wherever I go, I know home is wherever you queens are.”

“Very nice. Now,” the third queen turned to Anne. “Because this is me conducting the interview now,” Jane laughed with a slightly bitter tone. “How has the dynamic of the group changed since we’ve all been together?”

“Oh?” Anne smirked a little, knowing that Jane was alluding to the fact that she could give details about how there are no rivalries anymore. They were done being pitted against each other; really, just simple politics if you were Anne. “Well, in history, we’ve always been put up against each other to see who is the best, who had it worst, who he loved more. And when we all came back, there was definitely some tension between a lot of us. For example, as you know Janey, Lina and I used to fight all the time. We still fight now, but it’s a lot more playful. And you and I had some tension, but now there’s no point to it. Cathy and Lina had some awkwardness but they sorted it out, and now Cath calls Lina ‘Madrina’. Kit thought Anna hated her, but there was no such hatred. At first, we all competed against each other, but in the end, we all realized-” she pointed to Cathy with a smirk.

“All we need is SiX,” Cathy quoted from the show.

“And Anna,” how do you think we all compare to each other?”

“Well Seymour, there really is no comparing us. We’re all our own people. We’re good at things, we’re bad at things, and at the end of the day, we’re all just human. None of us have to be better than anyone. As long as we’re being us, that’s more than enough for this family.” Anna emphasized the word ‘family’. 

“Katherine, do you have anything to add?”

“Uh, not really Mum,” she let a small smile slip.

“Hold up. She calls you Mum?” The interview cocked an eyebrow.

“What’s it matter to you?” Jane snorted. “We’re all a family.”

“Yeah, we’re all a family. We have a strange dynamic, but it works, and I for one, wouldn’t change it for the world,” Kat said earnestly. The blonde shot her a small thumbs up. It was wonderful watching her surrogate daughter break out of her shell once in a while.

“And Cath?” Jane faced the writer of the group.

“All we need is SiX. We don’t need anyone to tell us who we are, or how we should act and be perceived in the public. We’re all perfectly fine with being ourselves and rewriting our stories- the way they should have been told all along. We are so much more than the few things we’ve been remembered for in history.”

“And Mr. Williams, do you have any questions for me?”

“No Miss Seymour. I think I have all that I need.” The interviewer gave a curt nod.

“Very well. Thank you for having us.”

Two weeks later, the article came out.

A few weeks ago, I had the absolute honor and pleasure of meeting the six wives of Henry VIII. At first, I began to ask Miss Aragon questions about the past, to which Miss Jane Seymour quickly shut down. She began to conduct the interview, not based upon the past, but based on what happens now that they are back. 

I was able to sit back and listen to these six queens have a conversation, and let’s just say that they are here to reclaim their stories.

Catherine of Aragon, or “Lina” as she was referred to by the others, spoke with as much elegance as one would think, but her love for her fellow queens was clear. She stated that wherever the others are is where home is. She spoke highly of all of their self-journeys.

Anne Boleyn, master of politics, was able to explain that despite what happened in the past, all they truly need now is each other. While there were some rivalries in the beginning, the queens find no point in fighting over who was the most important queen or if one was better than the other. 

Anna of Cleves, also known as Anne of Cleves, was able to add onto this by saying that there is no comparing them anymore. They are all individual women with different life journeys. So long as everybody is doing their best, it’s enough for their family.

Katherine Howard, the youngest and most quiet, was able to contribute to the idea that they were family simply by calling Miss Seymour her “Mum”. At first, this struck me as quite odd, but the queens were well aware. The dynamic of the household is “strange”, as Miss Howard put it, but it is something that she “wouldn’t change for the world”. The other queens quickly agreed, Miss Seymour even giving her daughter a thumbs up. 

Catherine Parr, or Cathy, made it very clear that they were here to reclaim their stories. No more are they going to be put into the boxes or simple rhyme that we hold them to. These girls are going to reclaim their stories in the musical SiX, which debuts next month.

As for Jane Seymour, this queen herself lived up to what all of the others had said. Jane Seymour, widely known as the most demure queen, showed that this was her life. She did not shy away when I began to ask questions that were a bit too intrusive in hindsight. No longer should she be known as “bound to obey and serve”. No, she proved that to me quite quickly.

None of these women are bound to obey and serve the stories we’ve placed for them in history. I, for one, am looking forward to seeing what these queens have to share with us. SiX the Musical debuts in August. Be ready for the histo-remix.

As an addendum, I would like to address this to the queens themselves, if they decide to read this (I would not be offended if they chose not to). Queens: I am terribly sorry for my lack of privacy and the way I began to conduct that interview. You are all absolute treasures who I can not wait to see on stage. Thank you for this eye-opening experience, and best of luck to you all! Keep using your voices!

And to Miss Seymour: I’m terribly sorry for acting so out of line. Thank you for putting me in my place.

Jane smirked when she saw that last line. She found her voice, and she was determined to stop fleeting from confrontation. It had done the queens good.

[rae-arts777]

I want to talk about my religious trauma

I just want to tell my story, I know mine is minor, I know there’s worst out there, but I’m hoping maybe mine cause reach out to anyone experiencing the same so they feel less alone

Let’s start way back

Edit: (sorry I should have put this earlier) TW: slight sexual assault, self harm, suicide mention

Growing up a christian adventist, I knew Friday night to Saturday was worship. No electronics or TV unless it was veggie tales, or a Bible cartoon, and church Saturday.

Of course I acted out a bit, and would get scolded for not staying still. My mother however wasn’t upset at me for ruining church, just upset I wasn’t behaving and granted don’t blame her cause I was a brat lol. I would get in more trouble if I went with my grandma. I was “disrespecting the lord in his house” and well...I mean it’s hard for a child to sit still for 8 hours wearing a dress and shoes that made me itchy and gave me blisters

Now church was fun in some sense. Got to see my friends, food after services, I loved being able to help in the kitchen and help the elders as well.

Good right?

Well...as a child, we think what we know if right. I thought the way we had church was common to everyone. When I started school, it was different for me. I asked “why do my friends go to church on Sunday?” My grandma told me “they just don’t know the proper way, it’s your duty to tell them”

I remember...being really horrible towards a kid who’s family was an atheist. We were still friends, but I will tell him “you’re trusting the devil”. My words never seem to hurt him since he laughed them off, but I never stopped...I look back and have so much guilt. So much guilt towards others too since I tried to tell them church was Saturday’s, and going on Sunday was wrong. I think about how horrible I was, cause my religion never taught me to be accepting to others beliefs, it taught me that it’s my duty to turn others to the right way. And that makes me upset. If my religion was the religion of “accepting everyone no matter what” then why is every one else’s religion the work of the devil? And why are baptism, also who was Christians, deem “evil” like Catholics in our religion.

Middle school. I started attending the church school. Hell

I didn’t like our new pastor, something about the way he said things just...didn’t stick. His kids were a nightmare. They torment everyone. Got teachers fired they didn’t like. And went crying to their parents if they didn’t get their way. No they were not toddlers. They were teens. One got in between my old best friend and I, and since then her and I were never the same.

Because I liked art and anime...I was the weird kid, so they constantly picked on me. Pastor kids telling me certain kids here didn’t deserve to be made by god. That god made a mistake. I told them to stop, but they would go “you just don’t know. It’s hard for us!!! We don’t mean what we say!” And looking and writing this now, that was the first gaslighting and toxic friendships I experience.

It made me more mad the pastor told the whole church that his kids were perfect children. And they set an example of how all the kids in the church could act. That pastor family was just horrible. Lies, manipulation, just rude. He would make side remarks about my mum’s blonde dye hair. He would say something to my mum if I wore pants or a leather jacket to church. Just the way he said things, made my mum feel like she was a horrible parent. They made side comments when my dad would finally show up.

“I’m sorry my dad wasn’t constantly gone, he’s was too busy fighting for our country.” Is what they would want us to say.

Church become a chore. Not a joy. And when we got a new pastor, one I started to connect with, we moved away and in with my grandma

Now highschool. This is where I started drifting away from religion. I love my grandma..I really do ...but she’s so extreme. The Bible this. The Bible that. I can’t have a normal conversation without her being up the Bible. Can’t watch a movie, show, or listen to music that’s not Christian without her bringing up the Bible or turning it into a Bible lesson. I hated going to church. I hated hearing “repent. The world is ending soon”

Hearing constant that our young generation is filled with the devil, feeling all the eyes of the elders on me as I’m trying to comfort someone’s child so they can enjoy church peacefully

Hearing anyone experiencing love towards the same gender is the devil’s working

That everything I like is filled with the devil

My grandma start forcing religion worst and worst down my throat. Saying I have to be prepare. I need to make my choice. Don’t I want to be in heaven with everyone? I need to give myself to god

I won’t see my family members who passed away Catholic.

That I need to tell my other side of the family who’s Catholic the right way

The news comes on....hearing the Bible says this the Bible says that

Trying to defend trump with the Bible

This pandemic is the first plague, the world will end soon

The studies getting more and more. I can’t even read the Bible just to study out of joy cause I feel like someone is breathing down my neck.

I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.

And then I’m introduce the rotten apples of my religion.

We shouldn’t wear mask it’s God’s air

Only having faith is god will keep you from getting sick and heal you

Ever remember of LGBT is going to hell

Woman who abortion are going to hell

People will tattoos go to hell

People who don’t read the Bible everyday are going to hell

People who want to make this religion more open and accepting, are hearing the devil and are going to hell

People who kill themselves are going to hell

Mental illness isn’t real; it’s just the devil and you just have to be happy cause you have god.

I told my mom I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t, it’s more forced down on me too much. If the world is ending what’s the point? What’s the point of college? What’s the point of life? What’s the point of looking for love?! Cause I’ve been told so many times my own children won’t ever get to adult or teen hood cause the world will end! What’s the point. I’m so grateful to have a mother who understands..

And it pisses me out with these Christian movies. A boy is about to kill himself, and is getting told “you’ll go to hell! You really want that?! To go to hell?!” Why are you showing this?! That’s a last thing a suicidal person needs to hear. They don’t need a fucking Bible lesson, they need comfort!!! As a person who’s tried drowning, choking, and harming themselves, I fucking know I wouldn’t want someone to find me and say “you’re going to hell for that!”

And then you have those horrible people who think just cause they are religious that it gives them a right to be a shitty person. My grandma would fucking forgive a murder if they came out as Christian.

I told my grandma once “I do want to be more involved with the church, I want to give a sermon” and she told me “you can give a small one, not a full one, god did not use women to preach, he used men. I rather you do the children’s story”

.......

The Vice President...some Christians hate her cause “god didn’t intend for women to lead, if he did his apostles would have been women”

my grandma says “she slept her way to the top!” But oh! She didn’t mind if trump, a man who’s assaulted god knows how many women was in office...

Forgive everyone....you’re suppose to forgive abusers..my bullies....I was told to forgive them even if they never said sorry..cause god wants us to forgive

I allowed..a boy to convince me to do things...cause men always knew what was right...it was ok as long as we didn’t have sex...and it was ok...cause he was a Christian boy...

I just try to be a good human...I have sickenly forgave so many people who’ve hurt me....and now...I’m the pushover...

But what I did was wrong...

I’ve just....drifted away slowly...my grandma has sort of stop trying, maybe cause I’m an adult so I can make my own choices..maybe my mum told her something...

But the things she says makes me feel ashame for being Christian....

For the longest time I thought we were perfect people...now that I’m older...I see we’re just as bad..if not worst...

It makes me so sick...just thinking..how I forgave people who HURT ME cause ...if I can’t forgive, then God doesnt want me.

If god really wants all of his “children” then why if it when we says “I don’t want to forgive the person who gave me this trauma” then it’s “i forgave you why can’t you forgive them? It’s so simple, you really can’t do something that simple? Guess you don’t want to go to heaven”

I’m so done

I’m so tired..

I have a headache and started crying a bit while writing this and there’s so much more. But my wrist hurts and just...I want to scream.

But for the majority...that’s my religious trauma.

I’m not hoping to gain anything, just to reach to anyone else who’s going through the same emotions...you’re not alone ok?

[weirdestsweetheart]

DETACHED(IWAOI)

By WeirdestSweetheart (also available on Wattpad, AO3)

Wind was blowing gently, it was one of the days where everything seemed so perfect, the weather, the cheerful chirping of birds, the warm sunshine that kissed the skin making one feel at ease. The muffled noise of cars honking and driving entered the apartment where sat a damaged soul repressing his sobs.

Broken glasses and objects lay shattered on the floor, the only light that made it's way in the dark and bland room was from the curtains which swayed so gently just like the wind. Amongst this sat Oikawa staring at the distance out of the window thinking about things that never happened and knew that it would never happen, not in this life.

"Why..." He hugged his legs and collapse to his sides, his mind filled with all of the things that happened today, how he lost his everything. His best friend who was his everything.

He closed his eyes and recalled what happened that ravaged his life in split of seconds.

Oikawa rushed to Iwaizumi's house, his excitement didn't seem to ever end. His search had ended after complete five months of struggle. He had to make an excuse to leave Japan so that no one could guess what he had in his mind. He eyed the box that rested in his hand, with a gentle squeeze on it he knocked at the door.

After no response for five minutes which was pretty odd Oikawa tried looking around and then his eyes landed on the note that said:

Iwaizumi family is on the wedding! Our Hajime has finally got a bride! A simple wedding in the Miyagi Church.

For emergency contact- XX124XX468

Oikawa's blood ran cold, he read the note again and again expecting it to be some kind of sick joke. His body seemed to move on it's own, he ran to the church.

'This shouldn't be happening.' His thoughts made him feel sick, anxiety was now taking down it's toll. His grip tightened around the box as his legs didn't stop. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead in the chilly weather.

He reached the church, his breathing not in normal pace, the sickness in his stomach grew immensely as he saw the name of the bride on the board. Oikawa darted in but halted when he saw the sight. The sick feeling in his stomach was overpowered by the tightening of his chest. His body which seemed to move on it's on now couldn't make the slightest move to stop what was happening.

"You have now been declared as husband and wife in the name of the God."

Claps thundered in the church amongst which Oikawa's heart cracking faded out. His eyes never wavering away from the love of his life whose love he couldn't even gain and had already lost it.

The people started walking past Oikawa saying things, how the groom and bride are made for each other, how they are the perfect couple, they looked beautiful together.

When the whole church was empty, only three people were standing in it and looking at each other. Iwaizumi's gaze had spotted Oikawa long before everyone started walking out, his gaze had something different in it, he looked at Oikawa with resentment.

"So you are finally here?" Iwaizumi's voice showed more bitterness than his eyes. "For what are you here?"

Oikawa's legs had lost his strength, he stumbled and walked to Iwaizumi, "What are you saying Iwa-Chan?"

Iwaizumi growled, "Don't act like you don't know." His eyes softened, "I thought we were best friends, I thought that we had this unspoken understanding of always being there for eachother." His eyes turned cold again.

"Iwa-Chan, I, I, what are you saying?" Oikawa was desperate, he wanted to know what Iwaizumi meant, "But, why did you get married?"

Oikawa looked the girl who stood next to him, her gaze nervously looking down trying to avoid his eyes.

"Aiya-Chan you knew that I love-"

"What are you trying to say Oikawa?" Aiya's voice was filled with fear, "Yo-you left Iwaizumi when he needed you the most! Why are you calling me out!"

Oikawa looked at her in shock and disbelief, he didn't understand half the thing she said but with look that Iwaizumi was giving him, he knew that something big had happened while he was gone.

He tried reaching to Iwaizumi but was rejected by a slap on the arm which caused more pain to his heart than the area where it stung.

"You didn't pick your calls." Iwaizumi spat every word with exasperation, it felt like it irritated him to even look at Oikawa.

"But I did tell Aiya-Chan that I am going-"

"Don't lie Oikawa!" Aiya cut his words, "You didn't tell me anything."

"What?" Oikawa's mind was getting heavy, he didn't understand why she was being mendacious. He tried speaking again but this time Iwaizumi was the one to cut him.

"A best friend of twenty three years leaves when he was needed the most and comes back after six months only to pretend he doesn't know anything." Oikawa flinched at the hatred filled in the words, "Why did you come!"

Oikawa stepped back, "Why are putting it like you didn't know where I was?" He said and continuing when none of the two cut him this time, "I did tell you that I will be out of the country for-"

"Stop lying!" Iwaizumi eyes shined from the light falling from the windows, the glossy texture of his eyes, Oikawa knew he wanted to cry but was so frustrated to let it out, "Aiya told me everything."

Aiya stiffened next to Iwaizumi which didn't go unnoticed by Oikawa.

"What did she tell you?"

"How much of a shameless person you are, that you want us to tell you what you did?" Iwaizumi took a step and looked Oikawa in his eyes, "So listen your majesty, you are that person who leaves his best friend when his father dies, you are that best friend who has always needed comfort but runs away when your best friend needs."

Oikawa's eyes widened at his words, he kept staring at Iwaizumi who screamed all his detest.

"You are the best friend..." His voice cracked with all the emotions that he had sealed inside him, "...who is selfish."

"Mr. Iwaizumi is dead?" Oikawa said in disbelief, he looked at Aiya who avoided his gaze, "Why no one told me?"

"You never responded to my calls!"

"You never called me Iwa-Chan!" Oikawa shouted back, he didn't receive his calls at all, nor his message, the only person who messaged him was Aiya.

"I am done with you lying!" Iwaizumi ran his hand through his hair frustratingly.

"I am not lying!" Oikawa was desperate, he was desperate to tell the truth, Iwaizumi was misunderstanding everything. "I only got Aiya-Chan's messages!" He tried continuing but was cut again.

"Oikawa. Just stop." Iwaizumi's voice was stern. "Aiya told me how you told her that you didn't care and denied coming to my wedding."

Aiya shivered next to Iwaizumi, she peeked and saw the stare of Oikawa which showed that he caught her dishonesty.

Oikawa looked back at Iwaizumi and pondered upon the things in a time lapse. His eyes widened as he connected all the dots.

He confessed his underlying love for Iwaizumi to Aiya, how she told him that Iwaizumi likes him too making Oikawa to get lost in the ecstatic feeling of accomplishment of long awaited unrequited love to finally be mutual.

Oikawa's eyes narrowed as he registered everything, how Aiya suggested him a way to confess his love, convincing him to bring something that Iwaizumi would love. How could he have been so stupid?

"You perfidious bitch!" Oikawa lashed out on Aiya who flinched, "You fucking lied to him!" He took a step towards her but the next thing he felt was a stinging pain on his cheeks.

Oikawa's gaze was on the floor, the pain becoming more prominent. It was until the realisation took a hold on him, he was slapped. The pain he felt was something he couldn't describe. He looked up and stared at the person who slapped him.

"Iwa-Cha-"

"Don't call me that!" Iwaizumi pulled Aiya behind her, protecting her from Oikawa, or so what he thought. "You have stooped so low Oikawa."

"You don't believe me?" Oikawa started, tears now forming in his eyes, "She has lied to you!"

"You are lying Oikawa!" Iwaizumi was also crying by now, "Please stop your bullshit."

Oikawa shook his head, his best friend of many years was not believing him. Believing? He was not even ready to hear him out.

"Do you trust this wicked witch over you best friend of twenty three years?" Oikawa cried, "You have-"

"Yes." Iwaizumi's answered that made Oikawa to stare at him, his desperation to solve everything ran out of his body. He watched how Iwaizumi's hand gripped Aiya's, how he squeezed her hand and walked past him.

Oikawa didn't have any idea how long he stood there at the same position and for how long he was staring at nothing. The box that Oikawa was holding was now slipping from his hands, it dropped on the ground and he didn't even reach for it and made his way out of church.

After that day no one saw Oikawa.

Please don't repost my work

©WeirdestSweetheart (Wattpad, AO3, Tumblr)

Do tell me your views on the story!

[thirstythylacine]

Stress Relief

Alright. This damn band and fandom has got the best of me finally.

Haven't written in over 10 years. Definitely never written smut before.

I've given in! There are pages and pages of smut notes in my journals, phone, and computer so I guess this is my new hobby in quarantine.

Relatively unedited so apologies there. 

Yell at me here, or yell at me on AO3 under the same name. 

Also I have a very limited knowledge of how the hell this cursed site works despite being on it for most of its existence. So if there's shit I didn't tag correct here let me know.

Also Tumblr apparently hates making the italicized bits appear here so I’ll reblog this in a sec with the AO3 link if you, like me, really like seeing the emphasis :)

I am otherwise too lazy currently to figure it out or fix it and I’m already reposting this since Tumblr also apparently hates outside links! Thanks Hell Site. 

STRESS RELIEF

He’s been working on this project for a week straight and as usual it’s cutting into personal hours. Though that doesn’t faze him, scribbling notes in the margin of this current translation and completely forgetting to call for dinner. It’s 10:30 at night and I’ve brought him ever meal today as well as coffee multiple times. At this point it’s half just so I can make sure he’s still awake and breathing.

His dinner looks untouched and he’s got ink on his cheek. I don’t even think he noticed me come in until I was right behind his chair with my hands on his shoulders. He only startles a bit and I lean forward to peek at his progress. “You’ve gotten far today” I note, “Though dinner was over two hours ago you know.”

He sighs sitting back against me. “I know Tesoro, I know. This one is just.....very difficult. And she wants it earlier than the rest.” He drops the pen and stretches his fingers. “If I can get this one to her before Friday I think we can have a few days off finally.”

It would be a relief for us both to have a few days off. He squirms as I press at the knots in his shoulder.

"I will literally stand guard outside this office to fend people off if it will help. I was starting to think I might have to tie you up somewhere to keep you from coming into the office this weekend.” He breathes in sharply once and there's a moment of stillness before he’s laughing quietly. Interesting.

I’m solidly around the front side of his desk before I notice the flush on his face. Double interesting.

The last paper in front of him has been moved aside in favor of the dinner plate. He’s frowning at it. The dish isn’t one that would be particularly appetizing cold. “I think......perhaps a trip to the kitchen might serve us better?” I offer. “You can find something better than that and I can find something for desert. I think Papa mentioned there was pie tonight.”

Pie makes a good dinner.” He says with a quirk of the eyebrow. Problem solved.

———

“Hey!” I gasp as his teeth scrape down my neck. “Hey, I told you, none of that tonight. I have a ton of important meetings tomorrow. You know, the kind with people from Outside This Church whom I need to view me as respectable, buddy.” He isn't looking at me but growls a little against my skin.

I tangle my hands in his hair and tug sharply back to meet his wild eyes with mine. “No biting.” “You’re gonna have to save those hickeys for tomorrow, Cardinal...”

He’s adorably huffy about it but also doesn’t falter as he ruts against me. His hips grind sharply into my thighs, pressing me hard down into the cushions of his couch. His arms have me caged in below him and he rests his forehead against mine with a low moan.

At some point we’ll have to decide if we’re moving to a bed, or at least stopping long enough to take off literally any clothing instead of writhing on the furniture like teenagers. It’s so good this way though.

I came by to drop off the last few papers for him to finish and somehow convinced him they could be done in the morning. I meant to also convince him to come have another late dinner in the kitchens but he's in a mood and I can't complain. Having him over me, desperate and needy is better than any drug. I busy myself with the buttons on his jacket and shirt, impatient to get my hands into his chest hair. He hums as I run my fingers through it, and lower. His mouth is at my ear, his nose in my hair. I tug at his belt as he arches over me.

“We should go go to bed” he whispers “we should go to bed so I can fuck you into the weekend. I want to wrap you around me and make you cum until you can’t remember your name”. The words coming out of his mouth are getting deep and breathy. That voice.

Even his perfectly normal, reasonable Latin lectures make me want to get on my knees for him. I'm pretty certain the whole class feels that way. Technically, I know I’m not the only one he sleeps with either but recently I seem to have lucked out.

“You can’t” I growl back as he presses me down. “As much as I’d love to have you buried in me from now until Sunday, you still have 'homework' for tomorrow and I.... I can’t bag out of my important meetings. Sister will literally have me murdered if I leave her alone with those delegates.”

He moans low and deep grabbing at my thigh to pull me further under him, tighter against him. We press back and forth rocking against each other and making out. He’s driving against me over and over in a way that will have me undone very shortly. I have to bury my face in his shoulder to keep my whimpers quiet. Office hours are over but the door isn’t locked and Ghouls have a way of showing up when shit is about to get good.

I'm starting to lose it. “Please, Copia, please, pleaseplease” I beg. He grinds into me slower and slower pressing closer and longer and I think I could die from needing to cum. His breath is in my ear choppy and hot. Little wines, murmurs spilling from his mouth as he gets closer to the edge.

My body arcs up against him, my hands trapped against his chest as an orgasm washes over me. Head thrown back into the cushion I cry out when he sucks at the skin at my collar. I’m gasping as I come down. And then I realize.

Yanking my hands from between us to grab at his head. “COPIA, Satanus! What the fuck did I just say!” He’s a bit of a mess this close to an orgasm and only whines at me when I scold him. His rhythm is getting lost now and though I'm mildly pissed about the bite, I don’t think there’s a better time to test my new interesting theory than now.

I wind the fingers of my left hand tight into his hair and grab harshly at his hips with my right. “Bite me again and see what happens Cardinal. Don’t make me tie you down next time.”

He comes hard. Face buried in my collarbone despite my hard grip on his hair. He’s arched so hard into me I think I’ll be feeling it well into next week. We collapse slowly into the couch. It’s hot and sweaty not to mention the utter mess he's just made. Whatever. He must own 20 pairs of those black pants anyways.

I stroke his hair and laugh softly into it as he tries to regain some steadiness of breath. “Well then, Cardinal.” I arch my eyebrow at him and he's absolutely blushing. He won't quite make eye contact and I can't keep this crooked smirk off my face. He buries his face back against me and grumbles “Maybe time for a real dinner, Tesoro?” as the office door opens. A silver face peeks through, checking the desk and then turning to see us tangled on the couch. “Oh! Sorry, boss. Just, uh, making sure the, uh, lights were off in here. Yeah.” “But um, never mind if you’re still in here working!” The voice fades as the face retreats quickly.

Copia makes a tired sound. “Ghouls.”

———

The free weekend has been axed.

Delegates from the Unitarian Church apparently liked our pitch enough that they decided to hang around for a few days and view the abbey in it’s working state. On the one hand it’s great. Not completely bonkers church allies would be incredibly helpful to us. But I'm mentally tapped out from the socializing. Copia too, has been dragged into the fray. Unlike our Third Papa he can be counted on to treat our guest well without shamelessly flirting with each and every one of them. Unitarian Universalists might not immediately kick a bunch of Satanists out of church club but they still probably view married couples as a little less fair game than Terzo does.

They leave just in time for us to jump right in on the next round of translations. Some books from our archives can only be opened for a few nights a year or a decade. Some can only be opened for a few hours at a time, or only in the perfect humidity, or only by a woman, or a ghoul, or Papa. It’s a particular kind of puzzle game to schedule the translations of these texts. Plus very few people can translate them at all let alone as quickly as the Cardinal.

Imperator schedules, I ferry book and papers. He translates. I return books and papers and organize translations by type and date so we can digitize them later. It’s part of the push to get this church into a modern century. Making an effort to have other church allies is as well. Nihil is totally against it even though his sons are all for it. Or maybe that’s because his sons are all for it.

Everyone is tired. Everyone is busy. The congregation is much bigger than it used to be but still there isn't a lot of down time. We've got a horde of siblings at our disposal to help with all the cleaning, data entry, filing, etc. but someone still needs to steer the ship.

It turns out that managing people is a pain in the ass and regretfully I'm good at it.

Thankfully I still end up spending most of my day filing and organizing piles. It's boring but methodical and leaves me with enough brain space to let my mind rest or wander as it chooses.

I'm deep into sorting notes from the early 30's so we can see if anything matches up with books from that era but my mind has wandered back to the Cardinal's ass in his red pants.

He stepped away from the monstrous paper pile for coffee this morning but two moments later was back leaning across the front of his desk to scribble a note in the margins of whatever he's trying to decipher. It's a very nice ass.

It's been over a week since we've been able to do anything more than snag a kiss between meals, sleep, and work. It's fine, except that it really, really isn't. Stress relief is important. And doing it myself is currently feeling a little subpar when the alternative is so incredibly attractive.

Also. There's this whole other aspect of him that I really want to get another glimpse of. We have been mostly on equal footing or he's been in charge since we've been seeing each other, but I know that's not all there is. Not just because of the way he blushes when I boss him around but also because of that dinner months ago where a wine drunk Terzo whispered in my ear all sorts of things about how delightful and versatile a bed partner Copia is.

I think I want to know all the ways to make him whimper and beg.

Unbeknownst to him, Thursday night we're going to catch a break. Imperator is headed out of town with a few of the Emeritus family for some swearing in of a little sect or two a few cities over. Copia and I have been excused to finish up one really time sensitive book and they're going to be gone for two whole days.

Of course, I know that the book is finished already. He did the last bit around 2am and I just couldn't bring myself tell her in case she decided to dump another stack on us as she walked out the door. Two days isn't enough for a real vacation but it's definitely enough for a little rest and stress relief.

______

I feel like I'm laying a trap. Getting us out of work, convincing him to come back to his rooms to change for dinner.

There's a tiny unmarked bottle of lube tucked on the hallway table next to the Baphomet statue where he hangs his keys. Normally he never looks at that table, just drops his keys across it, puts his hat on Baphomet's head, and comes to collapse on the couch or bed.

There he is though, looking at the bottle curiously, fingers starting to unbutton the top of his jacket unconsciously as his brow creases. I have to move fast. I walk up and my hands take over for his. Unbuttoning the jacket and pushing it back over his shoulders but not taking it off of him. I push at his chest gently until he steps back all the way against the heavy wood door.

"Tesoro, I... " He looks down at my face as I'm unbuttoning his shirt. My hands work downwards and I see as he completely forgets about the bottle. "Hello there" he says with a smile and slides his hands into my hair to turn my face up towards him. I get an arched eyebrow, a little half smile, and then, a little hitched breath as I tug open his belt.

I lean in to rub my nose under his jaw and breathe him in. His arms come up to pull me close and I can feel the rumble in his chest. We stand for a moment in peace, enjoying the closeness before I tug his hands down to lay flat against the door. "Keep them there, alright?" I whisper in his ear.

He breathes out an unsteady yes while I lay kisses down his neck. His trousers are undone and he hums through his teeth as I take him out and stroke him. Lightly over and over. Teasing gently. His head is back with eyes closed which is perfect.

When I ease my lube slick hand down his dick his whole body jolts and his eyes fly open to stare at me. "Oh! Ohhh...." Hands tight against the door his hips push forward into my hand and he screws his eyes closed again as I stroke him a second time.

"F...uck. Oh. Fuck. Tesoro..." he whimpers and the sound strikes deeply hot at the center of me.

I keep my touch firm but slow. A steady torcherous pace. I wonder how long I can keep him here. Trapped between my body and the door, gasping and moaning as I tease him higher and higher.

I want to talk to him but I'm a little afraid this will end too soon if I do so I settle for brushing my lips across his, across his face, against his sideburns until he's begging. "Tesoro, pleeease. PPlease. Ah. Ah. Oh, lord, Tesoro. I need....ah, please."

His face is plastered to my neck and I dig my free hand into his hair to hold him there. He hasn't moved his hands an inch though I see them tremble and grasp.

"You're doing so well, yeah?" I whisper. "You sounds so good like this. I love it. I love hearing how badly you need this." I can feel his knees knock a little as I speak to him. "I've been thinking about this for weeks. Making you come undone for me like this. Did you think I hadn't noticed how pink you get when I tell you what to do?"

"Ah, Satanus. Por favor...." he wines. "por favor....." His hips are trying to press forward, but I've got him tight against the door. I up the pace of my strokes until he can hardly speak. Low gasps and whimpers escape him as I bring him higher.

"Are you close love? I need you to tell me when you're close. I want you to tell me when you’re going to cum." That pulls a little wail from him and he gasps, crushing his face deeper into my neck. "Oh, Santanus. Oh, Lucifer. "

"You gonna beg me, sweetheart?" I husk in his ear. "Come on. Say please?"

He doesn't manage it, curling tight over my body as he comes. His arms forget the door to crush me against him. Fingers grip my back and shoulder so hard it almost hurts and I can hear his breath stop completely for a moment. I let him hold me, pressing myself tight up against him, toes to head.

It hardly feels like he is going to stand on his own so I just clean him up with a conveniently located cloth and pepper his face with little kisses. I brush the damp hairs back from his brow and when he lifts his eyes to mine he still flushes a even brighter red.

I must look entirely too pleased with myself because he quickly closes them again and lets his head fall back against the door with a solid "thunk."

"Fuck", he breathes, "I...ah, just.....Fuck."

I am pleased with myself. Humming softly I tuck him back into his trousers and pull the edges of his collar down so I can kiss him long and hard before patting his chest and moving away back into his rooms. He doesn't follow me and I look back to see him still leaning against the door staring.

"Dinner?" I ask with a bright innocent smile.

He growls with narrowed eyes and launches himself into the room. Shrieking with laughter I race to the other side of his couch. "Come here..." he murmurs. And when I don't move he crooks a finger at me. "Topolino. Come on. Come. Here. "

It's so goddamn hot. I want to.

But.

"Make me." It's impossible to keep a grin off my face knowing that the whole wing of this abbey is definitely going to hear about when he catches me. I have the advantage of steady feet, but his eyes are dark and his smile dangerous.

I am super, super fucked.

[realm-sweet-realm]

Like It Never Happened, chapter 2.

Susie found work in the city fairly quickly. It was just as a store clerk, but she said that the first thing she needed was an income, and she could focus on having a real career when that was settled. And anyhow, it seemed like a pretty nice place to work. Her only complaint was the hour-long commute each way.

Sammy found out about this while they were talking during one of their dates. At first he didn’t ask if she was planning on moving into the city, opting instead to ask about her coworkers. He saw the opportunity, but the longer he could keep her only seeing him during dates, the longer they could pretend that nothing had happened. It was Susie who had brought it up, and Sammy couldn't resist the urge to ask.

“It’s awkward. I don’t know that I want to live by myself again. Which I know, I’ll have to, and I am looking for a place-"

“Want to move in with me?”

Susie was a little taken aback. “You sure you're okay with that? We’ve only been seeing each other a couple weeks.”

“Sorry. It’s kind of hard to tell where I’m supposed to treat this like a new relationship, and where I’m supposed to act like we can just pick up where we left off. We were fine living together back then. But I understand.”

“No, let's do it. It sounds great” There was a long pause. “I’m going to try and make this as much like before as possible, alright? You’re going to have to be patient with me.”

“Okay,” Sammy had said. After that, they agreed on the day she would move in, and then changed the subject. Sammy wondered what she’d meant by that, but he supposed he would find out. Any signs of trauma she had, she was hiding well. He almost hoped, sick as it sounded, that she was doing worse than him. He’d hate to be the one testing her patience.

Their first week of living together went by without any serious issues, but there was one thing that Sammy noticed, and that was that Susie seemed to be avoiding music. He started noticing the pattern when he’d tried bringing it up once or twice, and she’d immediately changed the subject. Later in the week, he'd decided to play banjo in the apartment while she was around, and she quickly decided that she had elsewhere to be.

"Where are you going?" Sammy had asked.

"I'm going to get some milk." Her eyes were shifty- clearly she was lying.

"We have milk."

"Well, there are other things we need," she said before leaving. Sammy returned to his banjo. He supposed it was Susie's right to not want to listen to him, but still, he was frustrated. When Sammy heard her unlocking the door some time later, he turned on the radio. He wasn't much for 60s music, but he wanted to give her one last test. As Susie came in, carrying a few non-perishable grocery items they'd use eventually, she turned it off.

"Hey, Susie. Since coming out of ink hell, I found a nice little church. I'm going to a service this Sunday, and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

Susie looked a little... stunned. Sammy supposed he should have made it less obvious that he was studying her. “I didn’t know you were religious,” Susie said.

Sammy shrugged. “My parents took me to church maybe five times a year. I think I went about ten times in my entire adult life. Believe it or not, it was my experiences with my cult that convinced me that I should go back.”

“Cool, you wanna tell me more about that?”

“Not really.” Sammy could remember years of comforting the barely sane creatures that came to him for guidance. Back then, he’d been the most stable creature around. Now, well, Sammy was glad to have the luxury of being the lost sheep, coming to others for guidance and community. Plus, Susie surely realized that the church would play music, and he still wanted to test her comfort level with it. His little bird being afraid of music seemed just perverse to Sammy, and he wanted to know just how bad the damage was.

"Okay, then. I'll go," Susie said. Good. And hopefully she'd fucking enjoy it.

---

Sunday morning rolled around. Susie had been rather uncomfortable coming to Sammy's church, being that she had strong suspicions about why he wanted to take her there, but once she was there she saw no real reason for it. It was a fairly standard church, full of friendly old people that Sammy introduced her to. Of course, Susie knew there would be music, and she was ready for that. As the service began and the choir began to sing, she focused on the visuals in the room, averting her eyes from anything with an angel on it. It still made her tense, but she was managing. Then, her eyes landed on Sammy's face. He had been staring right her, studying her, just like he had that one night. She realized that she looked rather distressed and spent about a second trying to fix that before she got up and left.

Sammy followed behind her. “Susie, what's wrong?”

"Why don't you guess? You already have your theories, don't you?"

"It's the music, isn't it?"

"No, it's you!" she snapped.

Sammy could tell they were in for a fight. “Maybe we should talk elsewhere.” He’d hate for the other churchgoers to overhear them fighting, especially if Susie had figured it out.

“Fine. We’ll talk at home. Should we go back in there?”

“Are you going to break down because of the music?” Sammy felt like the father of a petulant daughter.

“I'll be fine,” she growled.

And she was. Grumpy, but fine. No worse than uncomfortable when there was music. The church service was fairly average, which for this church meant quite pleasant, though Sammy would have liked to stay at the end to talk to the other churchgoers. Ah, just like old times, Sammy thought, Susie going into theatrics and taking it out on whoever’s closest. Which just so happens to be me.

After they got home, Sammy asked, “Okay, where were we?”

“I was going to tell you that it wasn’t the music. Yes, it does make me uneasy because of ink-related craziness, but what really upset me back there is that you have been... I don’t know... testing me about it. Did you think I couldn’t tell? I’m not stupid, Sammy, and I don’t appreciate you making weird plans like that instead of talking to me, alright? I'm not your daughter. I'm not for you to go planning stuff behind my back like in the you did in the forties. Alright? I need you to respect me.”

“Alright, I hear you.”

Susie sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry for overreacting. Is that everything? I'm sorry I didn't just tell you about this when I first suspected you were testing me.”

“Well, I guess I would like to know if you're planning to get back into music.”

“I don’t know. Probably. I mean, who am I without it? But not right now. Sorry. Voice acting I definitely still wanna do, though." There was a pause, and a heavy sigh. "Sammy, have you ever read 1984?"

“Yes, decades ago."

"I know that music is a lot of what we had in common. I just hope we're not like Julia and Willson after room 101- too damaged to still love each other. And it'll be all my fault since you don't seem to be having hardly any trouble with this at all."

A part of Sammy was honestly just relieved he was apparently hiding it so well. "Actually, Susie, I'm struggling a lot. When I first came out, I was pretty much jumping at shadows. Even now, going anywhere new is pretty hard for me. And there's a reason why I'm just as tired as I was back when Joey was working me to death. I have a lot of trouble getting to sleep, and when I do, I have some pretty ugly nightmares. It is kind of like you said- I don't really know who I am anymore. Am I the person I became in that dimension, or am I the person who helped ink everyone in the first place? Neither of them are very good people, and I know I'm not exactly like either of them. I guess, we just have to be the best version of whoever we are now."

"I guess you're right. I might have a solution to the sleeping thing, though. I know that you aren't normally one for sleeping together, but, well, my sister's dog started crawling in with me when I was having nightmares, and that helped me. We could try it."

"Sure," Sammy said. It was mostly to indulge her. He remembered the nights they'd slept together in the 40s, before Susie was put away. Of course, then it was because she was freezing cold due to being made out of ink. Sammy would have refused her, but he half suspected that that was half the reason they were even still together. The two of us sleeping together because ink-related issues. Nothing ever changes.

---

Alice Angel turned on the record player. "Sing," she ordered, letting Susie into the forefront of her consciousness.

Susie blinkered awake. She wasn't really in the mood to fight. She got up anyhow, intent on finding a knife.

Alice took back control immediately and sat back down. "Don't you even think about it. Do that, and I'm popping the eyeballs of the next ink creature we get in here, and you'll have to watch. Now, sing. I need your voice to hit the high notes." Alice restarted the record and allowed Susie back out. Susie began to sing. It was the Alice Angel theme song- one of her headmate's favourites. After she'd gone through it a couple times, she got up. Alice didn't seem to try to stop her. Susie kept singing, as though doing so would keep her placated. She didn't know what was going on, but she wasn't about to waste the opportunity it presented. Her voice caught on the high notes as her breath grew unstable. She made her way to the tool drawer, retrieved a kinfe, and began cutting through the ropes that were holding a captive Edgar in place. She could barely hear the music of the record player now, and she was more muttering the words under her breath than singing them. Her hands were so tense she could barely handle the knife.

The knife flew into the Edgar's eye socket, and Susie was thrown out of her locus of control. The creautre wailed and writhed in agony. "You were never in control, Susie. Remember that. Even when I let you control certain parts of us, you're never in control."

Of course, that wasn't true. There were times when Susie took control by force. Still, she felt utterly helpless. And without a body to pilot, she couldn't even curl up and cry.

Susie woke up with wet eyes. She touched the gloxinia plant she kept beside their bed. It felt green. Its velvety petals felt purple. She felt her pulse (as useless a feature as that had seemed), and it felt red. Then, she felt Sammy beside her, also struggling with a nightmare. She snuggled into him, calming him down. Everything was fine now. It was all over.