#and then refusing help when you actually do something

[barcaatthemoon]

closer || lia walti x reader ||

After a long week, Lia offers you something different for comfort.

18+

"Lia, I'm home!" you called out as stepped inside of your home. The past week had been pretty rough for you, but today seemed to drag on and on. You weren't sure what it was in particular that was causing you so much grief, but you felt absolutely wrecked. All you had been wanting all day was Lia. You craved being close to her, and you could only hope that she was in the mood to be around you.

At the silence, you started to fear that maybe Lia didn't want to spend time with you. She had been pretty busy all week, and you knew that it was hard for her not to have time to herself. This was the first day that she had off where you had been forced into the office, but that didn't mean that she would want you rushing into her arms at the end of it. With your luck, it was more likely that Lia just wanted the peace and quiet that you had trouble keeping.

"Lia?" you called out as you started to walk around the house. You sighed in relief when you saw her outside. The little garden that she had been keeping was just barely holding on with the change in weather. It was admirable how Lia refused to give up on it until every single plant was actually gone for the season. There were only a couple of flowers left, but she tended to them with great care.

"Shit!" Lia swore as she glanced up to see you standing at the sliding glass door. The shock of seeing you only lasted for a couple of seconds before it was replaced by joy. It shouldn't have surprised you that Lia was glad that you were home, but it did anyway. You knew that Lia loved you dearly, but if she had told you that in the moment, you would have burst into tears. "When did you get back?"

"Just now," you answered. Lia quickly got up from her little garden to walk over and kiss you. She didn't touch you with her hands, only leaning in to give you a couple of quick pecks on the lips.

"Give me a minute to clean up, and then I'll be in the living room," Lia told you.

"Wait, don't go. I need you." You were a bit embarrassed to sound so whiny, but Lia didn't seem to mind. She seemed to have a idea that your week had been rough, and today seemed to be the day to really break you.

"It's okay, I'll be right back. Just go wait on the couch for me," Lia told you. As much as you wanted to follow her around just to stay in her presence, you went to the couch like she asked instead. Lia was quick about cleaning up and coming back to you. You had expected her to just cuddle up next to you, not come back holding your favorite strap-on in her hand.

"What is that for?" You let Lia pull you onto your feet. She dropped onto her knees in front of you, hands resting on the waistband of your jeans. "Lia?"

"You said that you needed me, and I know that look in your eyes. It's been a rough week, so I want you to just sit back for a bit. We haven't had much time together, and I think I know a good way to reconcile that a little," Lia said. You really liked the sound of that, and it was your complete trust in Lia that led you to agreeing.

Lia got you out of your pants while you pulled your shirt off. She helped you into the harness, pressing kisses to your hips as she did so. You helped Lia up from her knees before being guided to sit back on the couch. Lia slowly stripped herself down to nothing before she straddled your lap.

"Don't do anything, okay? Just sit back and close your eyes," Lia told you. You leaned up to give her a couple of slow kisses before you did exactly what she said. You could feel her grind against your thigh a little, becoming wetter with each swipe of her hips.

Lia's hips lifted a little, and you whined at the sudden loss of contact. Lia grabbed your jaw with one hand, positioning your face to look down as her other hand made its way between her legs. You didn't bother having any sort of shame as you watched Lia touch herself in front of you. All of this was for you after all, so you reasoned that you were free to watch her all that you wanted.

"Do you want to taste?" Lia asked you. You nodded, opening your mouth just enough for her to push her fingers past your lips. You sucked the arousal off of her fingers as she lowered herself onto your strap. Your eyes darted down to watch as Lia settled down onto your lap. "I'm just gonna stay right here for a little while, okay?"

"That's fine," you mumbled. Lia placed her hands on your head, scratching lightly at your scalp. You wanted nothing more than to just enjoy the feeling of Lia being on top of you like this, but as she continued the movements of her fingers, you felt your eyelids begin to grow a little heavier.

"Shh, it's okay. Just relax and let it happen," Lia cooed as you started to try and fight off your exhaustion. Everything that had been happening over the course of the week seemed to be catching up with you. You felt your head start to tilt back a little, and Lia leaned forward just enough to press her body against yours. It barely took any time after that for you to fully just fall asleep, and once Lia noticed that you were out, she climbed off of you and brought a blanket over to cover your body with.

[elegantgardenrunaway]

Today, we dance

PreCrash! Captain Curly x reader

A/N: Sorry, I couldn't resist. Haha. Anyways, this is not proofread and English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

(Image found in Pinterest)

Just think about finding captain Curly after the whole birthday ordeal. The room is still decorated while he's just sitting there, with his head down with an unreadable expression on his face.

You don't say anything as you sit next to him, not really knowing what to do, this was beyond your paycheck. Well, your last paycheck, the idea is still making you nauseous. You don't know what you are going to do after this, if you are going to be able to get another job or if this will be it for you. The weight of the news is crushing both of you, suffocating you in its silence.

You glance at him, then look around the room, the room which you hoped to celebrate your captain and decide here and there that this was too somber. This was supposed to be his celebration, his day and you'll be damned if you let it end like this.

Besides, you needed some distraction, maybe he did too.

You are a little ashamed to admit that it took you some time to get the courage to put your idea into motion, worried you may be stepping a boundary or just doing something in a time that wasn't right. Sure, the captain and you were getting close as of late, but you wouldn't say you have that kind of trust, not to mention it wasn't really professional.

But it's not like you have anything to lose now, right?

You turn on the radio, put some music, take his hands, invite him to dance "just one piece", you say, anything to lift his mood. It takes some convincing, a lot of convincing.

"We still have work to do" he says.

"To hell with work" you respond, taking his hands to guide him "Forget the work, the company, everything. Tomorrow we'll drown, today? Today, we dance. If you want to, of course."

He observed you, with those blue eyes with something you had never seen before, something you can't describe.

To be completely honest, you were expecting a refusal.

You were pleasantly surprised when he didn't.

His callused, warm hands awkwardly held you, not exactly knowing what to do.

"... I have to tell you..." He whispered slowly, sounding as if he was confessing a crime "... I'm not a good dancer..."

You blinked. You didn't expect him to say that. Captain Curly? A bad dancer? The idea made you snort.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry... " you shook your head, giving him an apologetic smile, hoping that you were not being rude. That's the last thing you want to do to him. You guided one of his hands to your waist, the other holding yours "... It's just that... That's very hard to believe coming from you, captain."

He just shrugged. For some reason, the easy smile he usually gives seemed different. You can't help but wish you could see it more often.

"What can I say? Being a captain is not exactly a job where I can really do these kinds of things..."

You chuckled "Don't worry, we are not doing anything complicated of sorts" you reassured "Just follow my lead..."

You started to guide the captain through the music. Nothing difficult, just simple, easy to remember movements. As you progressed with your impromptu dancing clases, you didn't notice when your bodies got so close to each other, to the point he had his chin resting on your head while you were resting on his chest.

The mellow melody taking you to another world, another earth. There were no screens, no pixels, no pony express, no worries about the future. Just the two of you, swaying with the music. This was all you could offer to him.

And you hoped that was a good enough birthday gift.

"You know, you are not as bad a dancer as you said you were"

"Hmm? You think so?"

"Mhm, but if you really feel like it... I can give you some classes..."

"... That..."

"Ah...Sorry-"

"No! Don't be!"

"..."

"... It actually sounds wonderful"

"Really?"

"...Really"

"... Well, we have some time before we arrive at the destination... We can see each other during our breaks..."

"I'm looking forward to it then"

[chirpy-poppy]

Our Pin

When Darkwick allows you to choose one of the houses to join, how will they convince you?

Inspired by this ask/post.

Frostheim “Wait,” Jin grunts at you as you approach the door, done with his errands for the day. He tosses something at you which you barely manage to catch. When you do, you recognize the deep blue pin. “You’d be set for life with the connections you make here. Choose wisely.” Jin is a man of few words, but you’d hear most of Frostheim’s pitch from Kaito who basically begs you to join them. Lucas would come with a few logical points about why you should choose Frostheim, and Tohma would keep you so busy with tasks, you wouldn’t be able to visit other houses during your decision period.

Vagastrom “It’ll be pretty cool if we lived a little closer together, Senpai. I’ll cook for you every day.” Sho is the only one who’d want you at Vagastrom. Alan gives you a stern warning not to do something so dangerous. Leo’s existence alone convinces you to stay far away.

JabberwockThey use their fluffy animals to their full advantage. Haru takes you on a Cappybus tour to see all the cutest animals while Towa engulfs you in the most fragrant flowers. Ren might actually beg you to join them too since you are actually willing to do the chores. Towa gives you such a puppy look while Haru discreetly pins the orange brooch onto your lapel. Peekaboo lets out the saddest “Booo” when you leave for the day. How can you ever refuse them? 

SinostraRomeo had given Taiga a lecture on their objective just before you were scheduled to meet them, so the captain actually remembers who you are when you walk in. “Hello, Kitten,” he purrs as you come in with some documents. He somehow gets you strapped into his torture chair and is about to stab the brooch into your jacket when Romeo bursts in. “You’re supposed to convince her, not force her!” “Why? It’s so much easier this way.” Taiga spins his revolver before placing it on your temple. Ritsu steps in at this moment to quote some law that no one is really paying attention to. Taiga and Romeo get into such an argument that no one notices you slipping away and running for your life.

Hotarubi The three invite you over for tea. At the end of it, Subaru presents you with the amethyst brooch in an intricately carved wooden box. “We would love it if you would join Hotarubi, PC. Of course, we want you to make the decision you believe is best for you, but you should know you are always welcomed and appreciated here.” As Haku walks you home, he purposefully takes a scenic route through Hotarubi. He’d gently pitch his own house but reminds you they are here for you no matter what decision you make. 

ObscuaryWas unfortunately not one of the options available to you. Rui is quite relieved though. He isn’t sure how he can live constantly worried about touching something as weak as a human. He also knows he could never live with himself if something happened to you, and the risk of it increases so much more if you stayed in his dorm. Lyca is completely bummed though. He thought he had a chance to finally have a friend at the dorm. He does not understand why you can’t stay at Obscuary since he’s here and he’s human too. Ed thinks it’s a shame, but he is sure you’d visit often still.

Mortkranken“Humph! You should feel honored to even be considered joining Mortkranken,” Yuri gloats, dangling the brooch in front of you. “He desperately wants you to join,” Jiro deadpans. “Jiro! Can you shut it! I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you did since you are a very interesting subject.” Yuri’s blush isn’t fooling anyone as he shoves the teal accessory into your hands. Despite his shyness, he still keeps you around for another three hours helping him pipette. As you get ready to leave, he calls your name. “Consider it. You… You aren’t repulsive, at least.”

A/N: Thank you to those who sent in prompts. I'm sorry if I don't get to yours, but I will only be writing those that spark an idea. I don't want to write something bleh just to fulfill an ask. Thank you for your submission though!

[copinghex]

3:00 a.m in Birmingham | T.S

Summary: Tommy's wife has trouble sleeping and resorts to a method he disapproves of. As usual, he tries to solve this issue in his own ways.

A/N: I stopped frequently reposting old works because I thought "oh, I'm gonna work on new stuff now," and then I didn't. Anyway, this is one of my favorites

Tommy sighed in relief as he found her car parked in front of their old house at Watery Lane. He's been looking for her for hours and although her whereabouts weren't exactly mysterious, Tommy couldn't stop his hands from trembling with the possibility of her being gone.

The house was dark as usual, even if they had enough money for it, none of the Shelby's saw the point of paying for electricity for a house they barely went to, the only electric light came from the betting shop, since the business place was closed for the day, the house only counted with the light from streets that shined through the windows.

Thomas walked from each to each room looking for his wife until he finally got to their old shared bedroom. She was sitting on the bed staring at the wall, arms resting on her knees while her hands played with a bottle of something he couldn't identify.

"I thought you didn't like this bedroom," Tommy drawled, holding himself from scolding her, she might not be physically injured, but he knew she wouldn't run away if she was alright.

"I don't, it's too small,"

"Yeah, I don't like it either," Tommy agreed and sat by her side, "so we shouldn't be here,"

She peeked at him by the side of her eye and brought her hands near her chest, trying to hide the label of the bottle, "I needed a place to relax,"

"Oh, why didn't you try a spa?"

"Because in case you haven't noticed, it's three in the morning, we must be the only people awake in Birmingham," she humorlessly chuckled, "well, perhaps with exception of the night shift workers,"

"Right, but why here in all the places?"

"...It was our home for many years, I thought the feeling of familiarity would help me relax, help me sleep,"

Tommy arched his eyebrows at his wife's answer, she had problems sleeping for some time since the business started to grow and brought some consequences, but for the last few years he could swear she's been sleeping well, she's been even able to convince him to try to rest.

"You should see a doctor," he spoke softly with a bit of humour, usually, she was the one suggesting that.

"Nah, all doctors are children of rich people who don't actually care about people," she bitterly spat, it was an honest belief of her, however, there was another reason why she refused to see a doctor.

It was because she already did, during the busy weeks Tommy was barely home, she managed to sneak a doctor into the house and the diagnosis wasn't pleasant, stress was keeping her from a well-deserved night of sleep and the recommendation was to absent herself from any stressful situation. Well, being married to Thomas Shelby was very stressful.

She thought of taking a break, perhaps going on holiday with the children, every time Tommy got home though, he seemed to need her more, business related papers, loneliness, a stress relief, she filled all the gaps Tommy turned a blind eye through the day, because he was always sure she'd effortlessly fill them for him.

He needed her, he told her that many times, mostly not verbally, but the way his tired eyes bored into hers when he got home from work, the way his hands pulled her close to him and how he seemed lost when she didn't greet him at the door left no doubts, together with whiskey, opium and cigarettes, she kept the broken pieces of him tightly tied.

Hell, she knew the best she could do for herself was to leave him, Tommy was unstoppable, he had no limitations or limits, he'd never rest and he lived something near fine with it. She was different, she didn't mind doing paperwork or looking after the broken man she called husband, but she needed assurance things wouldn't fall apart at any moment, she needed to sleep knowing her empire wasn't built on unstable land and that was something Tommy couldn't offer.

Trying to solve this impasse, she bought sleeping pills, the strongest she could find. They worked well for the first two years, eventually she became immune to the effect, increasing the dose wasn't an option anymore either, it'd probably make her overdose instead of sleep.

Now, she was sitting near the cause of her insomnia in the old bedroom they shared, refusing to confess the true reason for her sleepless nights.

"What 's that?" Tommy suddenly asked, eyeing the bottle in her hands.

"Nothing,"

"Show me," he offered his hand for her to give him the flask.

"No,"

"What is it? A secret? Show me," he tried to take it from her hand and she pushed him away, "what the fuck are you hiding?"

"It's none of your business, did you come here only to bother me?" she complained.

"Worrying about you it's bothering now, eh? Give me that fucking thing," he forcefully took the bottle from her.

She pressed her lips together as Tommy read the label, "Did the doctor give them to you?"

"No,"

"Who did?"

"I bought them,"

"With whose prescription?"

"Nobody's, Tommy! I just take them to sleep,"

"These are fucking strong, did you take all of them?"

"Yeah,"

"How long have you been taking these things?" he frowned, insisting when she didn't answer, "Hm?"

"Two years,"

"Two fucking years? Does a doctor know about it?"

"What right do you have to scold me, Tom? Do you think I can't smell opium on you?"

"It's not the fucking same, these can be dangerous,"

"Oh, and yours are not?"

"For fuck's sake," he sighed and stood up, adopting a scolding posture, "why didn't you see a doctor?"

"I don't like doctors, Tommy,"

"Neither do I, but I'd see one if you asked, I know what I'm doing, it's what I always did, you got these pills out of nowhere and hid them from me,"

"I never hid them from you, if you got to bed a bit earlier you'd have seen me taking them!"

"Argh, sorry for not keeping an eye on you, you know I have so much free time," he said ironically, "why don't you go around saying how much of a bad husband I am?!"

"Well, I wouldn't be lying, would I?" she snapped, "I went to a doctor, Tommy! Do you wanna know what he told me?! To stay away from stressful things, but guess what? You stress me out, being by your side is stressful!"

Tommy gulped, assimilating the words his wife just told him, he was not by any means surprised by them, he knew it was all true, but he never expected her to throw them on his face like this.

"...you're with me by choice, if you're not happy, leave," his tone of voice was calm, but there was a dangerous challenge in it. After so long together, she doubted Tommy would accept a divorce, it was certain that when she died, the name Shelby would in her grave.

Besides, leaving Tommy was not her true wish, except for the lack of sleep, her life was comfortable, her child went to the best school, she wore the best clothes, drove the fastest cars and drank the best wine. Also, her love for Tommy was undeniable.

"I don't want to leave you," she mumbled, watching Tommy's tense expression change to relief, "but I need to sleep, I need to be alright so I can help you to be alright,"

"I don't want you to be with me for pity," he sat back down.

"It's not pity, I wouldn't be here if it was," she hesitated for a second before confessing, "I love you,"

He weakly smiled, still looking shaken by her previous harsh statement, Tommy always thought of himself as a not good enough husband, now she just crossed all the lines and defined him as a bad one.

"Tommy," she whispered, "nothing in this world would make me leave you, you won't get rid of me so easily,"

"Nothing?"

"Nothing, not even my sleep craving body,"

Tommy nodded, humorlessly chuckling, he stood up and took the car's keys from his pocket, "Let's go then,"

"I came with my own car,"

"I'll tell the driver to bring it home tomorrow, c'mon,"

As Tommy made the way to his car, she followed after him. It took a few minutes until they got on the road.

Tommy drove slowly, at this hour there was no one in the streets but them. The darkness of the night would have consumed the scenario if it wasn't for the car's headlights.

Despite the engine's noise, she relaxed, the car smelled of cigarettes and Tommy's cologne, it was a familiar scent and she felt safe sitting beside her husband. However, the unknown road Tommy was taking strokes an alert light in her head.

"This is not the way home," she warned.

"I know, I've thought of going somewhere else first," Tommy answered, secretly with no idea of where he was driving to, he only knew it wasn't home.

"Where?"

"You'll see when you get there,"

"I can't keep secrets from you but you can keep secrets from me?"

"It's not a secret, it's a surprise,"

"Tsk, I don't believe you set up a surprise at three in the morning,"

"Better believe,"

As the world got silent, she rested her head on his shoulder, allowing her eyes to close and her arms to wrap around his.

"You know, only this time I'll let you put your feet on the seat," Tommy spoke softly.

"Oh, such a gentleman," she took her heels off, "where are we going, Tom?" she peeked the road through her heavy eyelids.

"Right now I'm trying to find a rotary on the way home,"

"Where the fuck are we going anyway?"

"Just wait and see,"

"Go on, Tommy, quit the mystery,"

"Be patient, love."

She sighed in frustration and made herself even more comfortable in the car seat. The shakes caused by the bumpy road worked almost like motherly lulling.

Tommy's plan went exactly like he expected, his wife fell into deep slumber, this time without the need of any pills.

[sapphossparenoterbook]

ARE YOU TAKING REQUESTS???????

please please please i need agathario fluff

like an alternate universe setting where they have nicholas and have a pretty chill daily life

PLEASEEEE 😭😭😭

Heatstroke

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal, background Alice Wu-Gulliver x Jennifer Kale

FLUFF!!!!

~Authors note - I basically wrote it as a Detective AU, but they're still witches and it doesn't revolve around them being detectives at all, it's just a background detail that I added as a minor plot point. Nicky plays soccer :) (As someone from Wales, it has been incredibly painful to call it soccer, but it's set in America so it only makes sense) ~

People always asked them, ‘How do you work together?’ or ‘How do you separate home and work lives if you’re together all the time?’, and the answer, for them, was always simple, but we’ll get to that part later. 

There were quite obvious perks to Agatha and Rio working together, their minds worked in ways that nobody but each other could understand, and if Nicky was in trouble, there was always someone to cover the other’s shift while they helped him out. Even if it was just a scrape on the knee, the two women could always rely on each other to take care of their son while the other worked for the two of them. 

As well as the minor detail that their magic use would help them speed through work, and magic is always stronger when there’s more than one spellcaster.

That’s totally not why they were the best detective duo in the whole of WestView, while still balancing social lives and hobbies without even breaking a sweat. 

Rio, when not on the clock, can be consistently seen in a green sleeveless undershirt, sweat running down her skin and sticking her fringe to her forehead as she pushes a heavy lawnmower around their garden on hot summer days. 

Agatha can be consistently seen sitting on a lawn chair, Nicky on her lap, an ice cold lemonade in one hand, and eyes following the green witches movements around the garden unabashedly. Rio is a green witch, she doesn’t have to do the physical labour… but she likes the way her wife's eyes follow her every movement as she huffs, and pretends not to flex her muscles just slightly so that the set of blue eyes peering over the rim of designer sunglasses traces them with a certain attention to detail Agatha would claim to be stress over heat stroke.

The two of them knew what the look actually was, but to spare Nicky’s innocence for a little while longer, they played along with the heat stroke excuse.  

Over the years, as Nicky got more and more observant of his mothers and their actions, he would often point out when exactly they both had… ‘heatstroke’. Like one morning, when Agatha brushes a dark red at Rio as she whispers something into her ear about the night before. 

“Mama’s got heatstroke! Mama’s got heatstroke!” He says, laughing at Agatha and running into her legs, hugging her at his short stature, “Te veo! Te veo, Mama!” 

Rio laughs hard at the boy who seems dead set on pestering his mother this morning. He had refused to eat his toast, saying he wanted cereal today instead, and now here he is, attempting to tease his mother. 

They both knew the reason why he was being such a pain this morning. He’d seen a lego set in the store that he wanted and Agatha said he’d just have to wait until Christmas to get it, the boy clearly seems to think that if he’d put up enough of a fuss, and then be good afterward, then he’d get the toy early for his “good behaviour”. 

A note to any witches or others that share a similar mindset with Agatha Harkness: Do not teach your child your manipulative ways at a young age. They will learn the skill very quickly, and use it to their advantage much like you have and will again. 

“Nicky…” Rio says to him, looking down at his cute pout on his face, clearly copying his mother’s manipulative tendencies, “Leave your Mama alone for a sec, she can’t take the teasing.” She says in a joking tone, elbowing Agatha when she lets out a quiet noise of protest.

“And besides, we know what this is about, and while your new tricks might work on auntie Alice, it doesn’t work on us. You won’t be getting that toy set until Christmas. And even then, that's only if Santa thinks you’re good!” Rio says then, desperately hoping that the boy doesn’t turn around and tell Alice all about this lego set the next time he sees her. The protection witch has a good heart, being a protection witch does that to you, but she is too soft on Nicky. To be honest, the whole coven is, even Billy babysits for free and whenever Agatha or Rio ask him too, even bringing his boyfriend every now and then. 

Luckily, Rio doesn’t see the telltale signs of the cogs turning as he thinks of a master plan to get the lego set sooner, and Rio lets out a relieved huff. 

“Auntie Jen makes Auntie Alice get heat stroke too!” Nicky suddenly says, breaking his silence and changing the topic, not admitting that he had been trying to manipulate his mothers: Another trait of Agatha’s. 

“Haha! Does she now, Nicky?” Agatha says, recovering from her blush and bringing his attention away from Rio. “Have you told auntie Alice about her heatstroke? She won’t listen to either of your mama’s when we tell her about how obvious it is.”

It’s Agatha’s turn to teasingly elbow Rio, they’d been trying to tell Alice all year that it was painfully obvious that the two witches were slowly but surely falling for eachother. Agatha had started to notice Alice leaving Jen’s house at late hours of the night about a month ago, so at least they’re getting a move on. The only problem is, they genuinely think that nobody has the slightest clue.

Which seriously offends Lilia, considering she is a divination witch that predicted this years ago.

“Will auntie Alice be at my soccer match?” Nicky asks as he pouts up at his two mothers. “Maybe I could tell her then, and then she can ask auntie Jen to make her a potion and fix it?” He says, and while he is picking up his mothers manipulative traits, the two older women can tell he is genuinely innocent in this plan, thinking that Alice needs some help with her ‘heatstroke’. 

“Course she will be, Nicky. Nobody ever misses your soccer matches for anything… except Billy actually. He won’t be there today, he’s got a big exam tomorrow to study for and can’t make it.” Agatha tells him, taking on a softer tone when discussing Billy’s absence, she knows that Nicky adores Billy, and is always upset when he can’t make it to his games or other important events. Billy is one of the only male figures he has in his life, with the coven being a mainly female group, (and mainly gay), he doesn’t really know any other adult male figures aside from teachers and coaches. And even then, he doesn’t know these men well enough for them to be classed as ‘figures’ to him. 

Nicky does look upset for a little bit, but he doesn’t cry. He understands completely that Billy and the others have important things to do. He is the son of two of the best detectives in WestView, after all. While the two have always used their magic to interfere with their schedules when Nicky has an important event like a school play or a soccer game, they have also made sure he understands why they have to do that, and that the other coven members can’t always do the same. 

“That’s okay… Will we see Billy when he finishes his test?” Nicky asks, and runs to grab his soccer boots, and struggles to tie his laces without Rio’s help. 

“Yeah, Nicky, the Kaplan’s invited you to have dinner tomorrow at theirs, remember? And me and Mama are going to stay here so you can sleepover with Billy” Rio says as she slowly ties his shoelaces so that he can watch carefully how she does it, observing each step. It was Agatha and Rio’s anniversary tomorrow, and the Kaplans had volunteered to have Nicky over all night to allow them to have some time alone. They said something about ‘returning the favour’ seeing as the two witches get Billy out of the house all of the time now, for Nicky or just for other coven-related things. 

When they arrived at the soccer field, they were slightly late compared to the other parents. The coven - minus Billy - had saved Agatha and Rio two spaces next to the pitch for them to sit… which is exactly when Agatha remembers that this particular field for the away game doesn’t have bleachers, and they were told to bring their own chairs. 

“Damn it! Rio, I forgot the chairs, I’ll have to rush back to the house so tell me what happens while I’m–” 

She’s silenced by one of Rio’s fingers on her lips. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Leave it to me, my love. I’ll just move the earth around. Just remind me to put it back to normal before we leave, or people might get suspicious of my brilliant garden.” 

“The garden is not brilliant, you destroyed my decking and haven’t–” 

“Sshhhh” Rio coos into her ear, spinning her around and then gently pushing her along to the rest of the group, holding her by the hips from behind. “Shush about the decking… c’mon now, why don’t you tell Alice about her case of heatstroke…?”

“Hmmph, silencing me and my struggles, Rio?” She asks as they get closer to the group, but not quiet in earshot yet.

“Mm, just wait until tomorrow night, when Nicky is at the Kaplan’s… Wouldn’t dream of stifling you and your struggles then, dear…” Rio whispers into Agatha’s ear in a huskier tone than usual, and laughs at the chill that runs down her wife’s spine at the thought. Rio pushes Agatha the whole way to the other coven members on the pitch-side, and conjures up a couch made of dirt and grass for Agatha and her to sit on very comfortably without being squashed into each other, but before Agatha can even get comfortable in her own space, Rio is tugging her in to her side and resting her head on Agatha’s shoulder as they watch their son warm up with the rest of his teammates right before the match. 

Rio, as a woman that has been around since the creation of time to serve her duties as Death, would never want to live any other way. Considering she’s arguably lived every other way. 

Her answer to how she works and lives with Agatha constantly, to her, is incredibly simple: She’d lived a hundred lifetimes without Agatha, and another good chunk chasing after Agatha, so desperately in love. She simply doesn’t want to spend another second without her, knowing that before Agatha, her existence was boring and cold, that she was forced to be a cruel and exacting being, unfeeling and lonesome.

Any other existence than the one she has now, next to Agatha, watching their boy grow, is simply a waste of Death’s eternal time. 

Agatha has given her the one thing that Death cannot give herself, and that is life, in the form of Death’s son. Even his sweet, innocent and mischievous existence is something that philosopher’s throughout time have considered impossible. And so for that, Rio never wants to part from Agatha, from the house their son will grow up in… even if that means she gives her lover special treatment. 

[anadiasmount]

Could you write something about jude realising he’s in love with you (so just his pov)

Just him alone in his room maybe and after so much time denying his feelings he lets himself feel for a little and then realises there’s no back to normal, he’s completely head over heels for you

wait i actually love this?? lmk what you think for future purposes 🤭🤍

while jude always denied to idea of love, falling in love, being in love, there was certain exceptions he made just for you. only you. how he could deny that bubbly and tingly feeling when he saw that smile crawl up to your face?

hear you constantly gush, praise, and adore him about how incredibly he was to you. what you didn’t know is that only you were the only one he was doing this too. he should’ve seen it coming after the first month of him in madrid, new, afraid, yet excited to take on his first season.

while jude sometimes felt shy, with you it was like being a whole complete person. his friends would see it, mom and dad, he’ll even jibe was asking what made this new persona in him suddenly change. it was your effect.

yet here was jude sulking with the biggest frown on his face, his thumbs brushing against the screen debating whether or not to send you a message or just say fuck it and call you. jude knew you would be busy studying on a saturday night, especially since your mid terms were coming up. thinking about how you forced him to help you study your flashcards and he took the whole act seriously.

jude felt out of place, and all he wanted was to be with you so desperately. the longing feeling, to feel how you curl up next to him, blabber about the tiktoks you see or your professor who seemed to teach the opposite of what they were supposed to. why did he feel so desperate, the itch becoming more difficult to the point where his chest would begin to pang with pain at the thought of you not there.

“just call her bro, what do you have to lose?” jude’s teammate encouraged over the phone, jude sideyeing him before he gave up and did just that. he typed out your number, wanting to remember it because he never knew when he may need it. the bubble of excitement yet nerves built insides him, jude sipping on his tea before he heard your tired voice.

“hi jude, to what do i owe this pleasure?” you teased, jude holding back a chuckle before replying. “ha ha, very funny. what are you up to right now?” he asked playing with the strings of his hoodie, “i just finished studying for the night, i couldn’t focus properly but it was the same material from this whole week,” you sighed. “is everything okay?” jude asked, practically seeing your nod over the phone. “yes it is now.”

“do you want to come over?”

if jude spent another hour debating he would’ve lost it. but now that you were here, right where he wanted, he wasn’t going to let you go. “okay cookies are made!” you said excitedly, jus expressing behind you and kissing your head. his normal and lovey habit. which you didn’t refuse either. “i picked out a few movies we can watch in the mean time,” he said dragging you to the couch.

jude’s heart couldn’t stop racing. he felt like he could’ve exploded any second now. your scent, the homey feeling, your smile, your touch it was driving him insane. he knew it was beyond playful feelings. he was head over heels for you, and if he didn’t confess now he would regret it later on. he shifted in his spot, making you pull away from him while still watching the tv. “come back here,” jude pouted.

“you’re so needy,” you joked but it was the whole truth. “y/n?” jude’s voice trembled, your eyes drawn to his immediately to ensure he was okay. jude felt a cold tingle spread down his spine, feeling more alive then ever. “what’s wrong-”

“you know you mean the world to me right?” jude started shifting up and getting closer to you, your touch hot against his hands. “i do?” jude nodded, tracing his initials against your skin. “you’re my whole world, y/n…”

“jude stop joking like that,” you pulled away, looking him up and down, but you could tell something felt different from this, from usual times. “i’m not, im being serious right now. i’ve avoided it forever with fear of hurting you or what we have but i don’t care about that now. i’m done waiting and avoiding how i feel,” jude stressed.

“what are you saying,” you asked, jude’s heart wrenching and pounding louder then when he played a game. “i’m saying that i love you and i have for the longest now,” jude said staring into your eyes but all he heard was laughter escaping your lips. “yeah you’ve lost it now,” you got up and went to the kitchen unable to get rid of the gut feeling.

jude was more nervous then ever, your small rejection getting to him more then it should’ve. “y/n why would i lie to you about something like that? you’re all i think about day and night. during training, when i see those silly panda stickers all over my room, or that damn scent you have engraved here,” he pointed to his chest.

“i’m so incredibly in love with you y/n. im tired of just pushing my feelings away because i was being selfish. im ready now, im ready for you. for us. i want to whatever it takes to make you happy with me. all i want is you, you y/n,” jude cried out, his voice pleading the hear him out. to take him out the misery he felt. for you to confess as well.

“jude-”

“y/n please say you love me back… that’s there’s a chance for us, please my love…”

[angelicpoison12]

plugs & bowties 𓆩♡𓆪

you admit to Angel that you've never had an anal orgasm.. he just has to be the guy to change that <3

tags: AFAB!reader, gn!reader, anal play, first time anal sex, anal fingering, gentle sex, Angel is a sweetheart <3, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, PRAISE!!!, soft dom Angel

wordcount: 1.2k

NSFW, 18+ ♡

"you've seriously never cummed from your ass?" the question itself, so vulgar, and out in the open... it was mortifying, actually.

"yeah, i haven't. so what? i don't understand the big deal." you said, shrugging nonchalantly. Angel's eyes were still wide and on you, gauging your flushed cheeks. you were both lounging on the hotel's lobby couch. it was closed down, so nobody else was around.

"i mean, it's not a big deal but... it kinda is at the same time, sugar. it feels amazing." "you mean it?" "oh, i'm dead serious. feels like a milkshake with the fattest, greasiest burger ever." Angel nearly moaned, his head tipping back dramatically. "you aren't saying that just because you have a prostate, right? we both know i don't have one of those." you said, laughing a little, both out of nervousness and excitement. "aw sugar bear, i wouldn't lie to you like that. it can feel good for both of our bodies! ya see, with your body.." he scooted closer, gently whispering now, one of his arms curling around your waist, bringing you closer to him. "it nudges your g-spot from a deeper spot. it feels so fuckin' good, it'll probably make ya gush all over the damn bed." Angel purred. you swore you saw his pupils dilating a little, the sight making you swallow and blush.

"fuck.. well, if it feels that good," you giggled, shivering when Angel began to kiss your neck, his hands soft against your body. "okay, i'll do it. but only because i know you'll be gentle." you admitted, feeling a tad bashful. "aw don't worry, baby. i'll take extra good care of you." Angel crooned. he delicately nuzzled his nose against your pulse point lovingly, but not before licking a strip of flesh, making you mewl in need. he loved how sensitive you were; it made you easy prey in his eyes. a type of control that he refused to take for granted, especially with the job he had and the position he was usually forced into upon that.

"i don't think i can do this." you stammered.

you both had already gotten pretty far. Angel had helped you get all cleaned up, and now you were on all fours in his pink bed, completely ridden of your clothes. "what's got ya nervous, baby?" Angel asked, his voice kind. he pressed a few loving kisses to your shoulders, helping you relax a little. "just.. nervous." "about?" ".. you seeing my butt." the adorable comment made him laugh. Angel tenderly turned your head, kissing your lips before responding. "baby doll, ya forget what i do for a living? i see assholes all damn day. i've seen my fair share of holes. believe me, nothin' can surprise me anymore."

his attempt to make you feel better (somewhat) worked. you found yourself a little more relaxed, leaning into his touch lovingly. you felt something cold drip down your cheeks, then onto your asshole. "relax for me, sugar," Angel whispered. a hand came up to stroke your lower back, the upper arms running through your hair, holding you down so your back could arch for him. "so pretty for me. can't wait to feel you around my cock, baby cakes," Angel moaned with a grin. his gold tooth flashed a little from the purple LEDs of his room.

a lubricated finger slid inside. you choked, trying to breathe and relax your walls. you knew that his fingers were long, but fuck, they felt longer when they were inside of you. "you're doing so good, baby. jus' keep breathin' f'me," he said. his nimble hands kept continuing to stroke your flesh, whilst his finger slowly but surely rubbed up and down your canal. when he pressed it down, it pressed against your vaginal wall and g-spot. the sensation made you yelp and quiver, involuntarily tightening around him. "oh ho! there it is," Angel hummed, grinning from ear to ear. he managed a second finger in, remembering to be generous with the lubricant. he scissored his fingers a little, every time you would loosen up, he would make sure to stretch his fingers just a tad bit further. when you were finally ready for a third finger, you were a mess.

cheeks flushed, breathing heavily, nearly crying. Angel knew exactly what to do with his fingers. he knew just how much pressure to apply to your walls, and he was cocky as hell about it, too. you were an unfortunate soul who couldn't cum just from getting your ass played with though. "aw, my poor little sugar plum," Angel cooed, noticing your swollen, neglected clit and dripping slit. "mm, you can't use your pretty little cunt to cum... but i'll allow you to rub your clit for me, baby. you can cum. it'll help you loosen up for me," Angel said with a chuckle, starting to finger you faster, his three digits sliding in and out of you seamlessly.

your fingers were shaky as you rubbed your clit in time with the thrusts of his fingers. it felt a little overwhelming. the fullness, added with your slick folds dampening your swollen bud-it was too much. you came, bucking and gasping, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to collect yourself.

you sighed when Angel's fingers left you but squeaked when something blunt pressed against your hole. you looked back, seeing Angel's skirt had been lifted, and he was now pressing his cock against your hole. shit, he wasn't small but he for sure wasn't going to go in easily either. "relax, doll, 'm using lots of lube. see!" Angel chirped, showing as he lubed himself up. the wet noises from him fisting his cock was unholy to the fullest extent.

the first press, he slid up, missing. "shit.. even with the stretching, you's a tight one," Angel chuckled. two hands help your hips, another caressing your lower back, the other holding his cock steady. he went inside all in one go, your body trembling, a shocked gasp leaving you. fuck, he was in so deep.

the pleasure was intense, fireworks shooting up and down your spine. he was pressing the tip right into your rigid walls and where they met your vaginal walls, making your eyes roll back a little. "fuuuuck toots... you're so goddamn tight, oh my Satan," he moaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, trying to keep his composure. you looked back at him, your noses bumping sweetly.

with a nod, he began to gently roll his hips, sliding in and out of you carefully. this feeling was foreign, but not bad. no, not bad at all, nor unwelcome. you felt full. really, really fucking full. it didn't even hurt; it was just dense, and intense (hey, that rhymed).

"don't stop.. Angel, please," "i know baby, i know," he cooed, leaning over you, starting to go a little faster, his dick plunging in areas you didn't even know felt good. you felt your eyes screw shut, nails digging into one of his pillows, filthy noises leaving your mouth. "that's it, baby.. aw yeah, fuck, gonna cum again? hm?" Angel asked, smirking. he reached down to gently rub your clit, his pelvis smacking against your ass. he squeezed the plush skin, wanting to watch you come undone over and over again.

"yes! fuck! don't stop. don't stop, please,"

your begging only spurred him on. he was going to use you all night. whether you cried, begged, pleaded, or even got on your knees-Angel would've done anything. as long as he could keep fucking you like this, just how he knew you liked it.

so maybe anal orgasms were magical after all.

𓆩♡𓆪

my sweet snowflake buddies!

@6esiree , @cosmiiwrites , @frxstwalker

[babyangelsky]

Faith as a love language and why I want Ju Yeong to give Do Hoe his cross necklace

Let me preface this by saying that one, my interpretations are drawn heavily from my own personal experience as well as the culture I was raised in and two, that this is going to be very rambly and maybe not make a whole lot of sense to anyone but me. But @respectthepetty encouraged me to get this out of my brain so here we are.

In order to explain what I mean in the title of this post and actually get into the meat of it, there's two other things I need explain first. There are layers to this so please bear with me.

The first thing is that I am not and have never really been a practicing Catholic. I believe in god and have a very loose, very personal system of spiritual belief but I am not religious. My grandmother is Catholic however, a very devout one, and since she helped to raise me I would say I was partially raised Catholic. Emphasis on the partially because my beautiful mother in her infinite wisdom (and due entirely to her own religious trauma) felt it was important to give me a choice on the matter and figure out my faith for myself, which I love her dearly for.

(She also once infamously refused to kiss the ring of the local very important priest in the village she grew up in which is one of my favorite things about her)

However, I've learned that even if you are given a choice on whether or not religion will play any part in your life, that does not save you from developing religious trauma. Especially if you also happen to be queer and especially if you don't adhere dogmatically to the widely accepted--and arbitrary--set of rules that determine whether you are considered a "good (insert faith here)".

The second thing has to do with cross necklaces and why being given one is a very specific loving gesture.

I lived in Mexico for a while a couple of years ago. On the day that I was due to come back to the States, my grandma gave me a cross necklace. She didn't just give me a cross necklace, she gave me her necklace that had been custom made for her. She wanted me to have a safe flight and get home in one piece so she gave it to me.

I have worn that necklace every single day for the past two years. If I happen to wear another necklace for outfit reasons, I put my cross in my pocket. It's always around my neck or on my body. Always. And the thing is, I don't wear it to signify my belief god.

In the broader sense of faith and what it means to people, giving someone a necklace like that holds a lot of weight. Taking something off of your body, your 'self', that you trust to keep you safe and that represents your faith and your beliefs and then putting it on someone you love to keep them safe is such a visceral expression of love. It becomes a symbol of faith in a different way.

As I've established, I'm not devout like my grandma is. The necklace doesn't represent to me what it does to her. I wear it because doing so makes me feel loved and safe because she gave it to me, not because I have faith of my own.

Now, having said allllll of that.

Ju Yeong's cross necklace has been established to primarily represent not his faith, but his family's expectations. Expectations that he hasn't lived up to and that have turned that cross into a heavy symbol of his failure that keeps him shackled at all times except when he chooses to take it off. And when he chooses to take it off matters.

He took it off when he confessed to Do Hoe and again when he slept with him because in those moments he wants to be free of that burden, free of those expectations, free to just love Do Hoe without having to think about anything else. Not even god.

Because even if the necklace isn't primarily a symbol of Ju Yeong's faith, it still is a symbol of his faith or rather, the faith that he had no choice but to adhere to when he became a pastor's son. That's what makes Do Hoe misunderstand what it means for Ju Yeong to take it off when he's with him. He interprets it as Ju Yeong being ashamed, as wanting to hide his sin, as only allowing himself to love Do Hoe when god isn't watching. He's wrong, of course, but he doesn't know that. Yet. (Petty explained it better go read that post)

We haven't really gotten into Ju Yeong's relationship with his faith and with only two episodes left I don't think we will, and that's a shame because I think recontextualizing what the necklace means to him and what his faith means to him would help him heal.

(Which is something I believe anyone who has religious trauma should do at some point in their life, especially if they're queer. Religion is so often weaponized against people and something that's used to make them feel inadequate and ashamed and like they aren't allowed to draw comfort from it unless they fall in line with what it asks of them. We always think of it being used that way specifically against queer people but that isn't always the case. I'm not out to my family and I once had a relative look me in the eyes and tell me I was going to hell for not going to mass.)

Really it would help both of them heal because even though Do Hoe wasn't the one with the religious upbringing, the necklace is still making him feel the same sort of inadequacy and shame he thinks Ju Yeong feels.

Which is why I want Ju Yeong to give Do Hoe his cross necklace.

Recontextualizing what it means, allowing it to be a symbol of his faith and nothing more, and making the conscious decision to take it off of his body and put it on Do Hoe so Do Hoe knows that he's loved without shame would mean everything to me personally.

Faith is a love language. It's why Mexican mothers pin medals with the Virgin of Guadalupe on them to their newborns' onesies, why parents choose auspicious names for their babies, why the very first prayer Christian and Catholic children are taught is the guardian angel prayer, why grandmothers do the sign of the cross over their children and grandchildren and end every conversation with "que dios te acompañe", and why we put crosses on the people we love.

[saintsenara]

Some will say that where there's beef there's sexual tension. Let's hear it for Sirius/Molly?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

now, obviously, the easy way round this pairing is to make it a sort of hate-sex thing, in which molly and sirius fire themselves up for a night of passion by arguing over who's right about harry.

the easy-and-also-degenerate way round it is to connect it to sirius' - well, let's just say - complicated relationship with his mother...

but a hill i'll die on is that this fandom really overestimates the tension between molly and sirius in order of the phoenix [and also, to be quite frank, ignores that neither she nor sirius is completely in the right or completely in the wrong, which is why their beef is so juicy in the first place].

and so the fandom ends up overlooking the fact that their relationship can actually be explored really interestingly without the idea that they hate each other.

while we know that molly conducts missions for the order, her primary role in the period 1995-1998 is a domestic one. she's the person who's responsible for things like making grimmauld place habitable and feeding the collected members of the order. the importance of domestic and caring work within resistance organisations is really overlooked - because of misogyny! - but it's something which is absolutely vital to those organisations being able to carry out their aims. the revolution is not hungry.

and the series does actually show us this - even if unintentionally. order meetings frequently take place in the kitchen around mealtimes. the domestic spaces of grimmauld place and the burrow serve not only as organisational bases but also as centres of support and community for order members [tonks coming round to see molly for tea and sympathy; lupin being asked to christmas at the burrow; snape's refusal to eat with the order being considered further evidence that his loyalties are not really with dumbledore, and so on]. the difficulty molly has with bringing grimmauld place under control also serves as a metaphor for the order's struggle against voldemort.

which brings us to sirius during order of the phoenix.

one of the things i think is often overlooked when we think about sirius' depression and feelings of uselessness while he's confined to grimmauld place is that these stem from him holding the belief that the only viable way of helping the war effort is to take a combat role.

which is to say, the adult sirius is reckless, but his recklessness isn't, as is sometimes asserted, caused by carelessness or stupidity - he's an observant, precise, intelligent man.

it's caused by the fact that he can only see value in being someone who fights, who's out and about, and who's putting himself at risk for the cause. he's unable to consider himself useful to the order outside of that context - which is why he chafes so much against the idea that staying in the house and remaining safe is crucial work, not only in that the fact of him living protects harry, but because domestic labour is worthy and fulfilling and revolutionary in and of itself.

you can do so much with the idea that - once the kids are back at school - the only people rattling around grimmauld place all day every day are molly and sirius, and that she spends her time trying to chivvy him into recognising that the housework she'd quite like his help with is really the only thing holding the rag-tag order together. he's not going to give a shit at first, but he can learn...

and food and clean clothes and swept hearths exist on the other side of a coin marked love, don't they?

[biohorror-human]

Trans people may or may not have popped off with the "block every radfem you see" idea because holy shit. You are all some of the most pessimistic and spiteful fuckers on earth. You all claim not to be bio-essentialist, and then turn around and say shit that is, at its core bio-essentialist. All of your ideas, in some way, revolve around hurting someone else. Want to destroy the gender binary? Certainly attacking trans people will help. Want to destroy child marriage? Tell people not to marry brown people, just, ever. Want to destroy the patriarchy? (This is the best one) Never organize, never protest, never coordinate, just sit around and cultivate a nightmarishly toxic environment and then have the GALL to ask "why are people so open about their disdain for radical feminism?"

Because all your ideas are rooted in hate. The last time I've had discussions this fucking bleak with people is when I got into an argument with an actual self-described Nazi. Btw, I know you radfems are super exclusionary and refuse to cooperate with any other social group, but maybe Nazis would be up your alley? Considering they also have an affinity for eugenics and wanting to eliminate general swathes of the population, I think you'd be great for each other.

I mean, just to list some of the bullshit you people constantly say which doesn't line up with any of the other shit you say: "trans and GNC people destroying the gender binary (which is good because we radfems don't like the gender binary) is actually BAD now because we were using that gender binary to call all men oppressors, and now we have to actually confront what specific societal issues enable someone to be an oppressor, instead of just saying that being a man makes you an oppressor (which is bio-essentialism, which we disagree with, unless you're amab, in which case then bio-essentialism is actually something we super-agree with)

And that's just one of the ones that I actually went into the effort of tracking down. In terms of shit that I've just seen on a whim: you say you hate bio-essentialism, but also people born male are naturally more oppressive. You say women should have the freedom to do whatever they want, unless that "want" is dating men, because even if they're happy in their relationship, they're actually secretly sad and lying. Because since when did feminists hold the belief that women could understand their own emotions? Pretty clothes are also bad, because men like to look at clothes. Nevermind what the woman behind those clothes thinks, you shouldn't be able to enjoy anything for any reason because a man might look at it and also enjoy it for a split fucking second.

You know what that last one makes me think of? How abusive husbands tell their wives that they can't wear revealing clothes because it will attract the gaze of other men. But history is obviously not your forte, because if it was you'd understand that the only way social movements like feminism prosper is if they cooperate with other social movements, a concept you could really stand to learn a thing or two about. Another cool historical fact is that segregation is, historically, frowned upon. But I still see you talking about how white women shouldn't date brown men, and how asian women shouldn't date white men.

You know, they actually made a haven for people like you. And no, this isn't going to lead to a "Nazi Germany" bait and switch. It was a place where women could only marry into their own race. Where police were around every corner. Where women actively ratted out people betraying that law. Where women were literally not allowed outside past a certain time. It was South Africa under fucking apartheid. You believe, on a fundamental level, the same shit that traditionalists (nazis) and conservatives believe in. You make yourselves miserable as a form of protest, but because your circles are so exclusive, the only people there to witness your misery are other radical feminists. You're creating a hyper-dense misery sphere that doesn't even take that pain out on the patriarchy, only on other women. You have absolutely, undoubtedly got to be the worst rebels in the history of rebellion. You're literally making the patriarchy's job easier by pre-misery-ifying women. You're streamlining the misery process. I've never seen another social movement do that.

I think the only thing you guys actually accomplished was making men who cared or were curious about your movement equally miserable. You know what I got when I tried to join the radfem discussion? When I made the MISTAKE of trying to learn about your cause to better support it? I got fucking berated. you people finally had a man WILLINGLY come up to you to internalize your ideas. And you know what you chose to say to me? When I had a question, you mocked my voice. You compared me to an ogre, or a giant. You said women SHOULD be scared of me because of the way I was born. You said I was a natural-born rapist. You spoke about how my androgens made me develop into a beast- made me resent my own body, on top of how I already dissociated with it. You demonized any thought of sexuality, shot down any idea of body-positivity. And even then, even after all that I thought it may have been positive. I thought maybe it made me stronger, that maybe I was more like you because I was able to see the flaws in my own biology. Nah. You just wanted me to be miserable, like you. I was your willing punching bag for all of your anger and resentment. You're the femme-fascist matriarchs of self loathing. The only boiling bucket of crabs who not just drags the crabs trying to escape back in, but actively coaxes new crabs to join. You want a revenge story in a world where revenge only leads to more suffering. Your definition of equal is only met when every man is twice as miserable as you. That's not a world anyone, man or woman or anything else deserves to live in.

I have a bunch more shit to say but even thinking about you miserable fucks is starting to rub off on me. Fuck the patriarchy. Trans pride rules.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hallo! IT'S ME AGAINNNNN!

Okay, so I was listening to a song and daydreaming, and then boom—I came up with this idea,It might not make total sense(lmao), but here we gooooo...

So, Donna and the reader are close. They’re not exactly friends, but it’s definitely more than just “a lord and a random villager.” The catch? Donna has a girlfriend whom she genuinely loves. Every time she sees the reader, she can’t help but rave about how amazing her girlfriend is, always blabbing about her personality and how great she treats Donna.

But then, They break up over something (maybe Donna finds out that Mother Miranda sent her "girlfriend" to make her feel less lonely). Donna is heartbroken, but during one of her crises, she realizes the reader is the one who ACTUALLY cares about her. So, she gets her emotions in check and starts getting close to the reader, and they eventually start dating. Donna is OVER THE MOON because, this time, she knows someone is truly in love with her, and she turns into a total hopeless romantic. She loves the reader way more than she ever loved her ex (way more than ANYONE actually)

But here’s where it gets a bit shaky: the reader sometimes feels like she's not enough because she remember all the sweet things Donna used to say about her ex. So, the reader starts putting a ton of pressure on herself, trying to be better. Donna notices right away and makes it her mission to ensure the reader never feels that way again. (You can totally ignore this part if you’re not feeling the angst, though!)

yeah that's it.

THANK YOU SO MUCH, CUTIE! WISH YOU THE BEST! TSCHÜSS!

Yess!!!! Thank you for your request and for being here!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))

A fake love, a real love

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Word count: 7,643

Summary: You loved her, but she didn't...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Walking to that isolated mansion might seem like an unwanted routine, something you had to do, but you didn't like. No one could blame you if you refused that usual errand, if you refused to cross that forest, those ruins, to get closer to the home where fear itself lived.

But you, a normal villager, young, happy and without much fear of everything around you, didn't see it that way. It was a normal transaction that had been common for you since you could remember. Your parents were farmers, a profession that couldn't be missing in an isolated village like that. Fruits, vegetables... everything that could feed a person was sold and grown by them.

Naturally, they weren't the only family that provided the village with food, but it was the only one who had the privilege of doing so for important people. Your father was related to a person who had long worked in the lands of the Beneviento family. That connection with one of the four noble families was what made you never lacked work.

Your parents were providers for that strange family long before you were born, like a kind of family profession that was inherited over time. You never knew the old family that lived next to a waterfall, that made dolls to brighten up the boring life of the villagers.

When you were born, they no longer existed. Misfortune had taken its toll on that Italian family. Not even your father could quite understand what exactly happened; he was only a child when Mr. and Mrs. Beneviento decided to end their life by jumping into the void.

It was the end of their existence, but not the end of their family. They left a girl too young to bear that horrible loss, a strange girl, carrier of a terrible mental illness.

No one could have guessed what would become of that girl after the death of her family. Only Josef Simon, the family gardener, and your young father were able to discover what was left in that horrible place, which then belonged to the only daughter who survived the tragedy: the young and sick Donna Beneviento.

You didn't know much about her, only what your parents talked about from time to time. Shortly after that tragedy, the Beneviento girl closed herself off even more, spending years and years completely alone.

But that was until, one day, when the young Donna apparently decided to give up, her destiny changed forever. Mother Miranda, the priestess who claimed to have the will of the Black Gods, saw something in that young woman with black hair and a horrible scar on her face.

The young Donna, barely 32 years old, became (you didn't know if voluntarily or not) one of the four Lords, the youngest of the witch's adopted children. That was too long ago, enough for your father to know something about who he was working for.

As time went by, the cold relationship with the lady of the mansion remained as a silent alliance. Serving a noble family and then, serving a Lord… It was definitely a good change for your family.

Since you were very young, you had accompanied your parents on their deliveries and, of course, you had walked the dangerous path that led to the mansion. You barely remember what your first encounters with that strange woman, with that veiled woman, dressed in black, who never, ever said a single word, were like.

You were just a little girl, and, well, the power that Lady Beneviento had, allowed her to give life to the Angie doll. You were a little girl, Angie was a doll. It was quite evident that it caught your attention.

Little by little you began to want to go to the mansion to play with the puppet, to laugh, to have fun with its irreverent attitude. Tag, hide and seek... For a girl without too many friends like you, the Angie doll began to seem like a playmate.

That silent appreciation of the lady, and Angie's playful attitude towards you was something your parents would always be grateful for. If Angie was happy, Donna was happy, if Donna was happy, you could live another day.

Of course you weren’t immortal, you didn’t have the grace of not aging, and as time went by, you grew up enough to get bored of playing with the doll. The lady, always hidden in the shadows, began to catch your attention. She was a lonely woman, a woman you didn’t know if she even noticed you.

Already in your teens, you began to show some of your slightly more daring attitude, asking questions to the lady in black, or even sharing books with her; a silent exchange that didn't seem to bother the Lord. Due to that lack of fear the lady generated in you, unlike your parents, at only 14 years old, you were the only one in charge of delivering the orders to that lost mansion.

Getting along with Donna was perhaps an exaggeration, but, unlike most of the villagers, you didn't feel uncomfortable with her presence. Her gestures were vague, and your voice and Angie's were the only ones that could be heard.

The years passed and that strange relationship you had with the lady in black mutated little by little, until, finally, you had the privilege of hearing her hoarse voice, addressing you.

Small talks, advices, personal experiences... the conversations became more complicated as you grew up, becoming a new routine that you considered pleasant.

Donna wasn’t your friend, she never was and she never would be, but your relationship certainly couldn't be limited to what it really was. You were both quite close, you had known each other for many years, and you learned to relate in a pleasant way.

At 21, you continued working for your parents. You continued walking through that dark forest, knocking on that door, talking with the lady in black.

She had lost her fear of the unknown, of that smiling girl who brought her vegetables. The trust increased enough for Lady Beneviento to do something unthinkable, uncover her face.

Your father barely remembered what her face was like, what that young, tormented girl looked like. No one had seen that woman once adopted by Miranda, no one knew what that black veil hid, no one, except you.

Beneath the black cloth there was no hideous monster, as your companions used to say or speculate. No, there was only a beautiful woman, black and shiny hair, a beautiful eye, an existing one.

You could sense why the lady in black covered herself, but you didn't quite understand it. Donna Beneviento, Lord and doll maker, wasn't a monster, and somehow, you knew that some time ago.

You tried to convince yourself, to deny the things you were starting to feel when you were with her, but you couldn't.

That strange woman who barely spoke to you, but who smiled, who laughed at your stupid comments, was no longer just a job for you. She was no longer Lady Beneviento, she was just Donna. Without being friends you were close, and, at 21 years old, with no hope of finding love, she became the involuntary target of your heart.

You couldn't help it, you were crazy about her. It didn't matter that you knew what she was capable of, that you had heard the horrible things she did in the past, those that your parents sometimes commented on. She was everything to you, the only reason that made you smile in your hard work.

Distracted, you approached the estate with your weekly order, clumsily checking that your working girl clothes were as neatly arranged as possible.

“Ahem,” you said, clearing your throat before knocking softly on the door.

“Who is it?” a squeaky voice asked, along with small footsteps on the wood.

Behind the door was not Donna, but the doll Angie, comically opening it and looking at you suspiciously.

“Hi, Angie, how are you?” you asked, crouching down pleasantly and smiling kindly at your old playmate.

“Oh, it's you,” the doll said, placing a hand on her chest. “I thought you wouldn't come, silly.”

“Of course I came, I-I'm bringing the vegetables,” you said, pointing to the boxes. “Is Donna here?”

“Um, yes,” Angie said, leaning over the boxes and picking up some vegetables. “But… she’s kind of… busy right now.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling a dagger stab your heart slowly, painfully. “T-Then I better go and…”

“No, no, don’t go,” Angie said, tugging at your dress hastily. “Stay, stay.”

“I don’t want to disturb you,” you said in a small voice, suppressing a sob.

“Nonsense, we like you being here,” the doll said, crossing her arms. “Come, come in.”

“Angie, I don’t…” you said uncertainly, picking up the boxes and entering the mansion. “W-Wait,” you said whispering when the doll closed the door and walked away from you and towards the living room.

“Hey, you two! Stop that!” Angie shrieked, causing some annoying grunts that you tried not to hear. “(Y/N) has come! Hey, silly, come here!”

Obeying without really wanting to, you walked slowly towards the voices. Just as you feared, on Donna's lap, there was a girl, one you had known for a while, who was part of your visits to the estate.

“Oh, (Y/N), I'm glad to see you,” the lady in black said with a soft voice, standing up and straightening her dress, with a kind smile.

“Hello, Donna,” you said, with a slight blush on your cheeks, looking away from the young woman who sat up, getting up from the sofa, putting on her clothes as well. “I-I'm glad too. S-Sorry to interrupt, Angie…”

“Mm, don't worry, we were just... wasting the time,” the Lord said softly, with an embarrassed smile. “Sit down, please... would you like some tea?”

“Oh, no, I don't want to disturb,” you said kindly, moving away from the overwhelming presence of the lady, from her addictive smile. “H-Hello, Anya.”

The girl nodded with a fake smile, checking that her dress, a little flashy one, was in its place.

“How are you, (Y/N)?” the young woman said, walking beside you.

“Fine,” you said dryly, looking at the floor and not at how the girl approached Donna, planting a wet kiss on one of her cheeks, causing a shy giggle that made you tremble.

“Donna, honey, I've taken up too much of your time, I'd better get home,” Anya murmured in her ear, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Are you going to leave? Why don't you stay and have some tea with (Y/N) and me?” the lady asked, gently grabbing her hand, with a pleading eye.

“I'm sorry, sweetie, but I can't,” she whispered, approaching the coat rack to pick up her clothes. “Don't worry, sweetie, see you tomorrow, mm?” she said, approaching Donna again and running a hand over her chest. “I'll let you do whatever you want to me... Don...” she whispered, discreetly making you burn and kissing the lady slowly, before moving away and walking definitively towards the exit.

“Va bene,” Donna sighed, without losing sight of her girlfriend.

“Mm, don't talk to me that weird, you know I don't understand you,” Anya said, shaking her head as she opened the door.

“I'm sorry, I mean... it's okay, see you tomorrow,” the woman in black corrected, playing nervously with her hands. “Be careful, please.”

“Of course, baby,” the girl said, before throwing a kiss in the air and closing the door, disappearing, to your relief.

That girl was a bit stupid, but your opinion was clouded by spite, so you never told Donna what you thought.

Anya had been her girlfriend for some time. You still remember the pain it caused you to hear it from her lips, to hear that there was someone who had managed to make Donna fall in love, and that it wasn't you.

Donna loved her with all her heart. She did nothing but speak wonders of that young woman from the village, who appeared by chance in her life and turned it upside down. Jealousy and rage built up in your body every time you saw her approach Donna, kiss her, caress her, but you had to suffer in silence.

Confessing your love was something for which it was too late and, even if it was just a friendship, you didn’t want to lose it, you wanted to continue seeing that beautiful woman, even if her heart never belonged to you.

“She is beautiful, isn't she?” the lady murmured when her girlfriend left, biting her lip and turning shyly.

You smiled sadly, nodding and looking at your clothes, completely different from that Anya’s, from that love-stealer.

“Yes, she is,” you sighed with a fake smile, scratching the back of your neck.

“Sono pazza di lei,” Donna whispered, leaning her head towards the door.

“Yes, I see that,” you said amused, bending down to pick up the boxes and put them on the table. “Look, Donna, I brought you the vegetables you asked for.”

“Mm, let me see, (Y/N),” she said, getting a little closer to you to rummage through the boxes, carefully examining the vegetables. “Wow, those peppers look really good.”

“It's been a very good harvest,” you commented distracted by her slender hands, hands that would never caress you.

“No doubt,”  Donna murmured, going back to put the vegetables. “Aspetta un attimo, I'm going to get your money.”

“Okay,” you said with a kind look, without losing sight of her, without missing a detail of her walk, the hypnotic dance of her dress.

“Thank goodness she's gone…” Angie said, suddenly getting on the table, scaring you. “That girl is a pain in the ass.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked curiously, checking the vegetables again. “She seems nice.”

“Nice? She's dumb and boring as a rock. She never wants to play with me,” the doll said, making you laugh unintentionally and shake your head. “I don't know what Donna saw in her.”

“She's beautiful,” you said with a sad voice, looking at the place where the Lord disappeared and gently closing your eyes. “Donna didn't deserve less.”

“Do you like that stupid girl?” Angie asked, making you think carefully about your answer.

“Um, well, I don't know her very well, but if she makes Donna happy…” you whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I guess I like her.”

“I don't,” Angie said, with a brusque gesture. “I don't like that girl at all, but Donna doesn't listen to me, she's completely in love with her.”

“It's good that Donna has a girlfriend she loves, she deserves it, you know as well as I do that she's been through a lot of disgraces,” you said without wanting to say it, hurting yourself.

“That's what worries me,” the doll said, getting a little closer to you. “Donna's a fool too, suddenly a pretty girl comes out of nowhere, tells her she’s in love with her and wants to be with her… and all that shit.”

“What are you implying?” you asked, now paying full attention.

“I didn't imply anything, I'm saying it clearly: I don't want that stupid girl to be Donna's girlfriend,” Angie said, with a confidential whisper, almost speaking in your ear. “I don't like Anya, there's something about her that gives me a bad feeling.”

“I'm afraid that's what Donna has chosen, you can't do anything,” you commented with a sad sigh, watching the door.

“No... but you can,” the puppet said, pointing at you. “You are her friend, aren't you?”

“Me? I-I don't know if friend is the right word but...”

“You can tell her what you think of that stupid girl, Donna will listen to you,” said the doll, jumping comically on the table.

“What? No, I'm not going to do that,” you said, shaking your head. “Donna is happy with Anya and I have no right to butt in.”

“Another boring girl,” Angie said, getting down from the table when the lady's heels began to echo on the wood. “I wish you were her girlfriend instead that fool.”

Your eyes widened at her comment, but you didn't have much time to think about it, as Donna appeared through the door, a bag of coins in her hand.

“Prego,” she whispered, giving you the bag with a tender smile, to which you nodded.

“Thanks Donna, I hope you didn't overpay me as usual,” you said amused.

She laughed and shook her head.

“Are you going to question my will, (Y/N)?” she joked, gesturing for you to follow her to the couch.

“I would never dare,” you said, putting the coins in your bag.

“Sit with me,” she said, kicking the couch. “Do you want to play chess?”

“Chess?” you asked, sitting as far away from her as possible while she pulled out an old board. “I-I don't know, I always lose.”

“Don't talk nonsense, you've beaten me more than once,” Donna said, her gaze away from yours, placing the pieces. “White or black?”

“Black. You probably play a lot with Anya…” you commented, choosing a color while the lady focused on the board, looking at you briefly and shaking her head.

“Not really,” the doll maker whispered, sitting in front of you, with a thoughtful look. “Anya says it's boring. She doesn't like to play this… kind of games.”

“Oh, well, I guess there are all kinds of tastes, right?” you asked, ignoring that information. “Let's see…”

“Certo,” Donna sighed, making her first move. “Anyway, we don't have much time to play or chat. I'm afraid that... well, she really likes... kissing me.”

You swallowed a sob, moving your piece and nodding slowly.

“I understand why,” you whispered in a terribly low voice.

“Scusi?” she asked, concentrating on your move. “Did you say something, (Y/N)?”

“No, nothing, I was just... thinking about my next move,” you lied, erratically moving another of the pieces. “I guess it's wonderful to have someone so affectionate by your side.”

“It is, of course it is,” Donna sighed, with a tender smile.

Nothing that happened that afternoon was out of the ordinary. The conversations with Donna usually traveled between unimportant experiences or... well, or compliments and words of love from the brunette to her girl.

Anya must have been the most wonderful girl in the world, or at least she was to Donna. The lady never got tired of talking about her, praising her… You might think it was almost unbearable to spend time with her just to hear about her girlfriend, but it wasn't like that. You were her only friend, or her only truly close contact, surely the only one who listened to her.

You loved Donna hopelessly. Even if her words weren't about you, they were her words, it was her voice.

Another afternoon of soft laughter, another night of dreams and fantasies about her. At some point you should realize the mistake you made by falling in love with Donna Beneviento, the delay in your confession, the theft of her heart by that beautiful girl.

Donna was crazy about her, she always told you so innocently, without knowing the damage she was doing to you, without wanting to know, perhaps.

The days passed and your visits could be summed up in chess games or comments about how fabulous Anya was. Angie's words echoed in your head.

Naturally, the Angie doll was jealous and distrustful, but the insinuation that she would prefer you to be Donna's girlfriend... You just couldn't get it out of your head.

“Thank you, Mrs. Fritz,” you said pleasantly, after doing your daily shopping in the village.

“Give my regards to your parents, dear,” the woman said, making you smile before setting off on your way back home.

You didn't live as isolated as Donna, but you had a nice walk to the orchards, a walk you always enjoyed.

“Shh, hey, Anya...” a male voice caught your attention as you walked.

Behind one of the crumbling walls of the orchards, there was a boy hiding, gesturing to a young woman who seemed to walk slowly, looking around.

You recognized her immediately: Anya, Donna's girlfriend. You weren't usually a gossipy girl, but this situation was a out of the ordinary, so you slowly camouflaged yourself in the wheat fields, behind a stone wall.

“Sergei…” Anya sighed, looking cautiously as she approached the boy. You had to quickly crouch down as they both looked in your direction.

“Has anyone followed you?” the young man asked, grabbing the girl's hands while you peeked discreetly.

“Of course not, you know I'm careful,” Anya said, letting that boy grab her waist and… kiss her, kiss her passionately.

“Shit,” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hands, blinking in bewilderment at the sight before you. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be.

“I've missed you, I thought you came back every night,” the boy said, kissing her repeatedly. “Did she trick you into staying again?”

“No, she knows I need some room and… well, thank goodness, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to see you,” Anya said, leaving you more and more confused.

“This situation is awkward, Anya, I can't stand to think what you do with… with her,” he said, with an angry gesture. “To think that you kiss her, that you… Gods, Anya, you have to end this.”

“Do you think it makes me happy to be with that nutcase? That I have another option?” Donna's girlfriend asked, crossing her arms. “You knew what the situation is.”

“I know but… maybe if you talk to Mother Miranda and…”

“I've already told you, Sergei, I would never dare to contradict her, besides, it's not difficult to fool the idiot Beneviento, we can still see each other,” she said, leaving you frozen on the ground.

“Yes, but for how long?” the boy asked, resting his hands on the shoulders of the girl, who sighed with a sad look.

“I don't know, but... I promise I'll fix it, I promise you,” she said, with a much more genuine smile than the one you had seen in the mansion as if she really... were in love with that boy, as if she didn't care about Donna.

Your trembling legs moved nervously, accidentally stepping on a dry branch, which alerted the lovers.

“You better go, Sergei, I'll call you when I'm free,” Anya said, gesturing for the boy to leave.

 He did, and you stood up from your hiding place, terribly furious.

That perfect girlfriend that Donna adored was a farce, a lie. You wanted to throw yourself at her, pull her hair, yell at her for cheating on the love of your life, but you didn't dare to do it. You were just a coward, but something inside your head prevented you from letting that discovery go, and you started walking towards her.

“You,” you said, getting her attention, walking through the orchards. The girl didn't move. She just frowned at you, as if she hadn't recognized you at first.

“Hi, you're (Y/N), right?” she said with a fake smile, with a somewhat cocky pose. “How are you?”

“Great, I just found out what you're doing to Donna,” you said without wasting time, pointing at her in an unpleasant way.

“Please…” she sighed, rolling her eyes, with no intention of denying the evidence. “Are you surprised?”

“What? You're Donna's girlfriend, of course it surprises me. How dare you to cheat on her?” you said defiantly, dropping your bags on the snowy ground. “She loves you very much, did you know that?”

“Of course I know… unfortunately,” she muttered with a look of disgust. “Hey, vegetable girl, I hope you're not thinking of spilling the beans.”

“What do you expect me to do?” you asked furiously, hating that stupid girl even more. Angie was right.

“Mm, well, okay, let's talk, shall we?” she said, helping you pick up the bags from the ground and handing them to you kindly.

“There's nothing to talk about, it's all very clear,” you hissed, moving away from her, who shook her head, sighing tiredly.

“Six months ago, Mother Miranda asked me to go to church,” the girl began to tell, as if you were really listening to her. “Naturally I was willing to do whatever she asked me to do.”

“What are you talking about?” you wanted to know, stopping your steps.

“She told me that her youngest daughter, Lady Beneviento, was going through a rough patch, that she was very lonely and… well, she was afraid that she would decide to do something stupid. You and I know that Beneviento is not right in the head.”

“Don't insult her,” you growled, clenching your fists. “Don't you dare to insult her.”

“I'm just telling the truth, (Y/N), denying that she is sick would be stupid,” Anya said, with a serious expression.

“That doesn't matter, it doesn't matter at all,” you said in a low voice, looking away from Anya.

“Mother Miranda thought it would be a good idea to give her… well, some fun, I don't know if you know what I mean,” she explained with a sinister look. “Understand me, my family is poor, and I need all the appreciation of the Black Gods. At first I just had to go to Beneviento's house and have sex with her but… well, it didn't turn out as I expected.”

“How disgusting,” you said nervously, running a hand over your forehead.

“The stupid Donna fell in love with me and far from considering my work finished, Mother Miranda asked me to play along, to be with her so she wouldn't feel so terribly alone.”

“And you accepted,” you hissed, looking at her out of the corner of your eye.

Anya sighed and nodded, with a calm look.

“I assumed it was okay to play pretending to have feelings for her, surely Miranda would think that Donna would get tired of me, but… obviously she didn't,” the young woman said, lowering her gaze.

“You're stupid, Anya, you're playing with poor Donna's feelings, aren't you ashamed?” you accused, unable to believe her words.

“Poor Donna? What's so much affection for her about? You only bring her vegetables, don't you?” she asked, frowning at your revealing attitude.

“I've known Do... Lady Beneviento since I was 5 years old,” you explained, running a hand through your hair.

“I see... you know her... well,” the girl said with a sinister laugh. “Well, you should know, vegetable girl: I don't care about her. I just want to get on with my life and get away from her so I can be with my boyfriend.”

“I assumed so,” you said mockingly. “But do you know what you're doing? You're playing with her feelings, Donna loves you and...”

“I don't feel the same,” the young woman sighed, leaning against a wall. “It's very easy to judge others, isn't it? You don't understand my situation, vegetable girl. I can't do anything.”

“Of course you can, you must tell her,” you said, in a calmer tone. “She has to know the truth.”

“Wrong, silly girl,” she said, arching her eyebrows. “If I tell that nutcase that I don't love her, that it's all been a lie, I'm dead.”

“She adores you, she would never hurt you,” you said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “She loves you madly, she wouldn't dare to…”

“What are you saying? Are you saying that I should go to her house and tell her that it's all been a lie? Seriously, girl, where did you come from?”

“It's better than her finding out on her own, don't you think? If you want to get away from her so much… it must be you,” you said, without thinking too much.

“Why do you care so much about that crazy woman?” Anya asked, making you back away.

“My reasons are… only mine,” you murmured. “I don't want her to suffer.”

“You don't want her to suffer... if I didn't know that no one could feel anything for Donna, I would think that you were terribly in love with her,” Anya mocked, shaking her head.

“You're wrong,” you murmured in a dark tone. “You have to end this, Anya, for your own sake.”

“Mm, maybe I'll think about it, she's unbearable, you know?” Anya said in an unpleasant tone, moving away from the wall and passing by you. “It might not be such a bad idea, after all.”

“You are unbearable,” you growled when the girl walked away.

That conversation, that revelation fell on you like a bucket of cold water, freezing you, leaving you completely lost. You didn't feel joy or relief, only sadness for Donna. She was crazy about Anya, she would give her life for her if she asked. She was madly in love.

Breaking her heart, telling her what you had seen wasn’t in your plans, but you didn't want to go back to the mansion either, not when you knew that those kisses they gave each other were fake ones. You decided to get away for a while, just for a while, until you could forget that horrible truth and stop being tempted to reveal it.

“Honey, something's wrong,” your mother commented at dinnertime, surely looking at your sad expression. You faked a smile and shook your head.

“Mm, your mother is right, (Y/N), what is it…?”

Your father couldn't finish the question, as the phone rang to interrupt that attempt at interrogation.

“Hello,” your father said, picking up the phone, immediately moving it away from his ear, due to some loud, high-pitched screams coming out of it. “Hello? Who's speaking? Are you a little girl? Hey, listen…”

“What's wrong?” you asked, getting up from your chair and approaching slowly.

“It’s for you, (Y/N),” your father said, handing you the phone. “She must be a friend of yours.”

“A friend?” you asked, bringing it close to your ear and recognizing the screams. Angie. “Who is it?”

“Oh, it's you, thank goodness…” the doll said, with her voice distorted by a terrible cry that sounded in the distance. “(Y/N), you have to come, now.”

“Angie? What's wrong?” you asked somewhat scared, with your family looking at you with intrigue.

“There's no time to explain it to you, silly! Come, run, come! Donna is completely out of her mind!” the doll shrieked, before hanging up.

“D-Donna?” you asked, hanging up scared and looking at your family. Something had happened, something had happened to Donna.

“What's wrong, honey?” your mother asked as you ran out of the house. “(Y/N)!?”

You didn't pay attention to her calls. You just limited yourself to running without looking back. You didn't know what had happened, but Donna needed your help, and you had to give it to her.

In record time you arrived at the dimly lit mansion. The door was open and agonizing sobs echoed off the walls.

“It's about time!” Angie shouted, welcoming you and pulling your hand to guide you to the living room. “Quick!”

The sight before you shattered your heart. Donna, the lady in black, was sitting on the floor, her head between her legs, pulling at her hair as she sobbed inconsolably. All around her were traces of fury, of broken furniture. Something terrible had happened. Donna had lost her mind again.

“Donna...” you sighed, cautiously approaching the lady, who roared, cried and kicked the air without moving from the floor, muttering something you couldn't understand. “Gods, Donna, your hand,” you said when you saw her blood stained knuckles, looking at Angie sharply. “What happened?”

“Just like I told you, that whore wasn't trustworthy! She left my Donna!” the doll shrieked, approaching her owner. “My Donna is very nervous, she's having a very bad crisis, you have to help her! She doesn't listen to me anymore.”

“Anya's gone?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

“She left me!” Donna shrieked, making you look at her. “She didn't love me, she never loved me!” she screamed, pulling at her hair again, something you tried to stop.

“No, Donna, stop… don't hurt yourself,” you said, fighting against her sudden movements, against her nervous kicks. “Shh, Donna, please… I'm so sorry, darling…”

“Troietta! You bitch!” the lady shrieked, attacking you as if you were the girl who broke her heart, throwing herself at you, struggling.

“Donna, Donna, no!” Angie screamed, pushing the lady off of you with a thud.

You had to admit that you were scared, but you made a superhuman effort to stay calm, to soothe her wounded heart.

“No, darling, please stop…” you said, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her body towards yours to hug her tightly. “It's over, Donna… Shh… it's over…”

“Porca miseria!” the lady shrieked, trying to release herself from your embrace until, thanks to your strength and mental advantage in the situation, the poor lady calmed down, staying close to you, crying at your chest.

“Shh…” you whispered while, sitting on the floor, you tenderly rocked Donna, calming her down little by little. “Shh, it's over Donna… I'm here with you… calm down… that's it… very good, very good, Donna, relax with me…”

“Listen to her, Donna, she's here, (Y/N) has come to help you,” Angie said, carefully approaching your embraced bodies, the soft maternal movements with which you rocked her.

The sobs were horrible, piercing, but little by little they stopped sounding, being nothing but an agonizing lament while you rubbed her hair, keeping her head on your chest.

“Shhh, Donna…” you whispered softly, wiping her tears and moving her away from you when you saw she was feeling better.

“Mm?” the lady murmured, slowly pushing you away, her eye was red from crying and her cheek full of tears. Donna blinked confused at the sight of you, running a hand through her hair. “(Y/N)… what… what are you doing here?” she asked with a thick accent, looking at you suspiciously, disoriented.

“Angie called me a while ago, she said you had lost your mind,” you explained with a soft voice, while she got up from the floor in pain, sitting on the couch, looking at you briefly.

“I don't…” she stammered, still confused, shaking her head. “(Y/N)… I…”

“Relax, I'm here,” you said with a tender smile, sitting next to her and glancing at her hand. “Did you break a glass again? Wow, you have a serious wound, Donna…”

She looked away, embarrassed, but letting you play with her injured hand.

“You shouldn't be here,” the lady whispered with a dark voice, looking at you shyly. “I could have hurt you. I-If I lose you too, I'll...”

“You haven't,” you said, daring to run a hand over her cheek. “You won't lose me…” you whispered softly, looking at the doll again. “Angie, bring the first aid kit, please.”

Once again in silence, you healed the wound the lady had self-inflicted. The sound of the wind and slight moans of pain were the only atmosphere in that place, until the lady glanced at you out of the corner of her eye as you bandaged her hand.

“Anya left me,” Donna whispered in a sad voice, gripping the fabric of the sofa tightly. “She came this afternoon and told me that… she didn't love me.”

You looked at her, but repressed any attempt to speak.

“Mother Miranda sent her to pretend that she loved me, to make me believe that I wasn't alone,” the brunette explained, nervous, but at the same time, calm.

“I'm so sorry, Donna,” you said in a whisper, tying the bandages tightly. “I couldn't imagine that…”

“I did, I should have realized,” she said, looking away with a nervous moan. “I should have realized!”

“Shh, don't yell anymore, honey…” you whispered in a sweet voice, caressing her injured hand. “You must get over it.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Donna asked, shaking her head. “I-It's all been a lie… She cheated on me!”

“I'm sorry,” you said with a broken voice, feeling guilty for knowing it, and not having warned her before. “I'm so sorry, Donna.”

“I must look pathetic, right?” she said with a sinister smile, panting nervously. “How pathetic is Donna, who needs you to pay her a whore so she doesn't feel so alone, because, of course, no one could ever love her.”

“Don't say that, it's not true,” you said, holding back your tears, calming the doll maker's madness with your touch. “That's a lie, do you hear me?”

“You...” she hissed, moving away from your caresses, abruptly getting up from the sofa. “Is that why you came? She also sends you!” she shrieked, pointing at you with a deranged gesture. “You're a liar! Bugiarda!”

“No, Donna, that's not true, I came to help you,” you said nervously, somewhat scared. “You are… you are…”

“What am I? A moron who doesn't deserve to be loved? Poor Donna, she needs a toy to play with and not to think about the shitty life she has, right? You whores, you're all sluts! Sluts!”

“No, Donna, you're wrong, I…” you said trembling, putting your hands in a defensive position.

“What are you doing here then?! Why are you pretending to care about me? Huh? Talk, bitch!” Donna shouted, grabbing you by the collar of your dress.

“Silly Donna, let her go!” Angie said, fearing that her fury would be launched against you. “Donna, Donna…”

“I… I care about you because… because I'm in love with you,” you said with a broken voice, stammering and preventing her hands from applying more force, from hurting you. “I love you, Donna, I've always loved you.”

“What?” she asked, frowning and letting you go immediately. “What…?”

“I'm sorry to tell you in a situation like this, but if you're going to kill me… I want you to know what I feel for you, for longer than I'd like to admit…” you said, squeezing your eyes tightly, waiting for a nightmare that never came.

Again, the silence caused the atmosphere to become tense. Donna moved away from you, looking at you with distrust, breathing with difficulty.

“It's not true, you don't…” she murmured nervously, looking at you briefly and moving confused. “It can't be true.”

“I don't care if you don't believe me, I understand that you don't, but I want, I want you to know that you are a wonderful and beautiful woman and... you can say whatever you want, but you have made me fall in love with you, Donna, what I feel for you is what you have done, being who you are. Don't think that it's not possible for someone to fall in love with you, to want to give you their heart because I... have already done it.”

Saying those last words, ensuring your confession, you slowly stood up ready to leave the mansion, to leave poor Donna alone.

“A-Aspetta, (Y/N)” Donna interrupted, before you walked out the door. “Wait, please.”

You turned slowly, scared of the consequences of your confession.

“You...” she whispered, approaching with a slow step, with her chest rising and falling quickly, with her gaze lost. “Are you telling the truth?”

“Yes, Donna,” you sighed, wiping away a tear. “I would understand if you didn't want to see me again, I'll tell my father to take care of…”

“N-No, no, wait a moment,” she said, shaking her head, grabbing your arms, very tightly, but without any intention of hurting you. “You… you've always been with me… always.”

You nodded, suppressing the trembling of your body.

“I-I remember you took care of me when I lost my mind, and how you played with Angie when you were little,” Donna said, with a distracted look, but speaking without stuttering. “You were the vegetable girl, but for me you were something else, you know?”

“A fool,” you said amused, sobbing.

“No, you… you were my only friend… you were always there when I needed you, you never cared about my appearance and… you've never abandoned me. (Y/N), is it possible that you're telling me the truth? That you really have feelings for me?”

“I would never lie to you Donna, to me you were much more than a friend or a Lord,” you whispered, looking away, noticing how her grip loosened.

“You have always understood me,” she said, getting a little closer, moving her hand erratically to your cheek. “Angie was right… I-I was so blind with… with her that… I wasn't able to see that you were the only one who was by my side.”

“I will be if you want me to be, always, Donna,” you said in a very low voice, with her too close to you.

“Don't leave, (Y/N)… stay with me,” she asked you, squeezing your hand in hers. “Let me… let me… love you as you have always deserved…”

“Donna…” you sighed, letting yourself be carried away by the gentle swaying of your bodies. “You don't love me.”

“I may not have known until now,” she whispered, coming closer, placing her lips on yours, a sensation so dreamed, so imagined, that you already knew what it was like, but not how it made you feel.

A tender, salty and slow kiss… It was a quiet, calm kiss, emphasized by her caresses, a kiss that you didn’t expect, that you wanted, even at a time like that.

In that horrible and sad way, with a doubtful but sincere confession, her relationship with that poor girl ended, and one with you began.

At first you were suspicious that her love was real. Anya was too recent and Donna was resentful. It didn't take long for you to realize that you were wrong.

Donna was romantic, sweet, understanding and tender. Being her girlfriend was the best thing that had ever happened to you, you had never felt so loved, so cherished.

It was simply impossible, it was impossible for the lady in black to treat you so well after that breakup. Happiness occupied your entire life, you even moved in with her, but doubts also haunted your mind.

Every night, after the passion, came the thoughts, the fears, those horrible memories about Anya, about the admiration Donna felt for her, the love she had for her. You didn't know what that fake relationship was like inside, but, somehow, you felt inferior to that stupid girl.

Little by little, the pressure you put on your mind took its toll on you. Your movements and attempts to surprise Donna were almost pathetic and… over time, you started to look like that stupid girl, or try to.

The doll maker had no friends, she only had you. She wouldn't talk to anyone about how much she loved you, so you would never know if you had gotten over that stupid girl in some way, and that… that was killing you.

“Come on…” you said comically, trying to fit into a tight, provocative dress, one very similar to the one her ex-girlfriend used to wear.

Maybe your doubts were stupid, but they were doubts, and you had to do everything you could to not think they were justified.

“Okay, that's it,” you said, looking at yourself in the mirror. “I-I can see everything but... well, I guess Donna will like it,” you said, finishing getting ready for a special occasion, the celebration of your 6 months together.

“Here you go, amore mio,” Donna said, serving you dinner and wine elegantly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye and making a strange expression.

“Thank you, darling,” you said with a tender smile, putting yourself in a position that clearly exaggerated your feminine attributes.

“Um, yes, um...” she said nervous and confused.

Smiles, caresses and words of love accompanied you throughout the dinner, but, after dessert, a small moment of awkwardness formed.

Normally you didn't mind Donna looking at your breasts, you even found it funny, but that look was different than other times, very different.

“Donna, are you looking at my tits?” you asked amused, encouraged by the wine. “Do you like them?”

“Y-Yes, of course, you know I love your body, (Y/N),” she said, looking away, without her usual smile.

“You don't seem to like my dress very much,” you whispered distrustfully, with a sad sigh.

“Oh, yes I... just... (Y/N), what are you wearing?” she asked finally, crossing her arms.

You looked at yourself and shrugged with an amused smile.

“It's new,” you said in a seductive voice.

“I see but... You... you don't usually wear that kind of clothes,” Donna commented, with a cold look.

“Yeah but… I thought, I thought you would like it,” you said in a fearful whisper.

“(Y/N), you're… very strange lately, you don't want to play chess, you wear… those things… it seems like something's wrong with you.”

“I'm the same as always,” you said in your defense, with a somewhat dangerous tone and look.

“No, that's not true, you've changed…” she said, shaking her head. “It seems like you're trying to be like…”

“Well, so what if I do? You loved her a lot, didn't you? I have nothing to do with her, you'll never love me that much,” you said, bringing your worries to light.

“(Y/N),” the lady sighed, getting up and approaching you while resting two fingers on your chin. “I like the way you are, do you hear me? I don't want you to be like her, I don't love her. She was stupid and she never wanted to do anything that I liked. She could never, ever compare to you, (Y/N), I've never loved anyone as much as you, only you, and always you... do you understand? I love you, you are the love of my life, you always will be.”

[rex-meshla]

Brat Summer

Commander Wolffe x Reader

You'd think working with Commander Wolffe would mean a constant stream of orders, all barked in that gruff. But no, that’s not how this goes. Not this summer, anyway.

"Not bad" he mutters as we finish a sparring drill under the hot afternoon sun, his voice low and gravelly, but his smirk gives him away. “You’re almost getting the hang of it. Almost”

"Oh? That's funny. I'd say you're almost keeping up, Commander" I shoot back, giving him a look. It’s a game we’ve played a thousand times, but this time, the heat in the air makes it feel like more.

"Maybe I should push you a bit harder then" he says, stepping in closer, that spark in his eye growing.

Classic Wolffe. He loves a show of authority. Probably thinks it'll throw me off.

I just cross my arms, smirking. "Bring it on"

He chuckles, a low, almost growling sound, and then he closes the gap between us, stopping just close enough that I can feel the warmth coming off him. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, you bet" I say, nudging him in the chest before he can lean any closer. "But don't go thinking you're the only one calling the shots here, Wolffe"

He raises a brow, amused. "You think you're in control?"

"Absolutely" I say, poking his chest just to get on his nerves. "I know it drives you crazy, but you wouldn't have it any other way"

“Real confident, aren’t you?” His hand hovers near my waist, his lips twitching up in that knowing smile. “Maybe I just keep you around because you give me something to laugh at”

I roll my eyes, refusing to break. “Laugh all you want, but we both know you’d be bored without me” I lean in, voice dropping, just to tease him. “Face it—you like having someone around who can actually handle you”

“Handle me?” He scoffs, eyes flashing, a mix of irritation and amusement. “If I wanted to, I’d put you in your place in two seconds flat”

"Oh, sure" I say, cocking an eyebrow. "Any day now, Commander. Still waiting for you to actually do something about it"

His mouth quirks, and he leans in, his voice dropping, almost challenging. “Careful what you wish for”

“Promises, promises” I say, meeting his eyes with a smile that dares him to take that last step. “I’ll believe it when I see it”

And that’s all it takes. His hand finally lands on my hip, warm and firm, pulling me that final inch until there’s no space left between us. His other hand brushes up my back, fingers pressing lightly, and he dips his head, gaze locked on mine with an intensity that’s nearly electric.

“Still sure you can handle this?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my cheek.

For a second, words fail me. His dark gaze, his hand on my hip, his hold on me—all of it sends my pulse racing, each beat louder than the last. “More than sure” I manage, my voice softer than I intended, but he’s left me no room for anything else.

A short laugh rumbles low in his chest, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he dips his head, his lips brushing mine with a teasing slowness. The kiss starts soft, almost experimental, but the next second, it deepens, fiercer, like he’s done waiting, done playing games. My hands slide up to his shoulders, and it’s like the rest of the world melts away, leaving just the heat of his mouth on mine.

As the kiss deepens, his fingers find their way to the back of my neck, pulling me in closer. There’s a hunger to the way he holds me, something raw, brash, and yet, somewhere in the fierceness, he’s careful too, like he’s been waiting for this just as long as I have.

I can’t help but smile against his mouth, letting a laugh slip out as I pull back for a breath. “That’s the best you’ve got, Commander?”

His eyes narrow, that usual sharpness softened by something else. Something almost like pride. “You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe” I say, fingers trailing down his chest, feeling his breath hitch under my touch. “Or maybe you just have to work a little harder to keep up”

That challenge lights up his face, and in an instant, he pulls me back in, his lips brushing mine again, this time with a fiercer edge. He murmurs against my mouth, “Careful what you wish for, brat”

_____________________________________________________________

I hope you've enjoyed this little drabble. You can find more here.

[lavender-femme]

.

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[clowndensation]

alicent haters are wild they'll be like "she's such an ungrateful vindictive hypocritical bitch. why isn't she nicer why didn't she have a spine and stand up for herself when her dad groomed her into being a child bride" like child brides are victims with no autonomy, which often affects how they develop (as they are busy being brides who are children in those crucial developmental years, where they learn things like how to cope with (the) stress (of being a child bride) and feelings of jealousy (over other people not having to suffer through being a child bride) and self hatred (over your body being used without your consent as a child bride)). she isn't capable of being your perfect madonna figure because of the being sold as a child by her father to her best friend's father. as his bride. hope this clears things up!

[autisticlee]

sometimes I think about how when I went to college for a year before I dropped out (basically failed out,) the counselors/dean told me they can't help me at all or give any accommodations unless I have an official autism/adhd diagnosis. that might sound logical at first, but when you think about it more, it's actually quite fucked up. if someone is struggling really bad, what's the harm in helping them? why do they require a paper to get even the smallest amount of help? people who don't need help aren't going to be failing miserably without help! even NTs could benefit from some adjustments to the horrible school system! (but changing the entire system is a whole other conversation that the school system isnt ready for)

but even if you do agree to jump through their hoops, you realize it's even more fucked up that the diagnosis process requires YEARS in most cases (in my case it took 4 or 5 years, can't recall exactly now, for autism/adhd diagnosis, which would have meant i finished school before getting it if i managed to mot fail out, or i wait that long before going back, which is a whole struggle itself) and they also tried billing me for THOUSANDS of dollars because of insurance issues!!

so you put a ton of time and money into this, and then get told the only accommodation they are willing to give you for autism and adhd is "a little extra time on tests"

....

my test scores were the best part of my whole class experience. that was NOT what I struggled with!!!!! those tests were all online and could be done in the comfort of your home where you can accommodate yourself and have plenty of time left over when you finish them because you are comfy in your own space, (and also, no one was stopping you from having your notes/books/google open to find the answers,) and you don't even need a time consuming, expensive diagnosis for that!

SO WHAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!