#i aint listening to a man WHO LIKES MEN

[tomasens]

SŁOWACKI DONT KNOW SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

cześć kochany kolego przedwczoraj (?) (albo przedprzedwczoraj) zaczęłam czytac wichrowe wzgórza i cały czas miałam nieodzowne poczucie że kiedyś widziałam heathcliffa wyglądającego jak mickiewicz. myślałam że to była jakaś adaptacja filmowa (okazało się że to BYŁ film ale jane eyre i tam jest facet co wygląda jak adam); w każdym razie zaczęłam grzebać i oto jest:

stwierdziłam że się podzielę bo adam by tego chcial a ja sama tego nie zniosę

wygląda trochę jak na tym kwadratowym pomniku ale it’s oki mi to wynagradza te przedostatnie gdzie grób rozkopuje bo przecież upiór wiersz (wale głową w ścianę) (żart)

ilustracje nie były podpisane więc nie mam jak dać credits niestety

POPIERDOLI MNIE COŚ musze narysowac Adama jako te dwie ostatnie ilustracje..... . .... Dziękuję użytkownik tumblra balladyiromanse you always deliver

[asherthehimbo]

Hunter

synopsis: Visha Odessa was a legendary hunter, a protector of nature and its balance, they never let an abomination live to tell the tale of having stared into the poisoned hunters eyes, but stories are told, whisperes shared amungst drunk mercanary's after a long day, a story of one man, one beast whom has drank the poison and still lives to tell the tale. Odessa's greatests failure. Or in which you never could quite bring yourself to kill Jung Wooyoung, for all the names you've had and titles you've garnered, his immortality only still being intact by your own hands. Jung Wooyoung was a gentle beast purring in your lap by the light of the fire, but he was a beast none the less, and you had made a promise to end all beasts.

Pairing: Vampire! Jung Wooyoung x Hunter! Female! Reader

Warnings: blood, death, vampire feeding, a but suggestive ( just like a makeout session nothing too bad), a hint of mysogany in the begining, reader has no specifics BUT is described as having freckles and a scar on her nose, no happy ending :((

wc: 5.6K

notes: WAAHHHHHH WRITING THIS FOR MY STAR @beetheseal YAYAYAYYAYA IM SO HAPPY I GOT HER INTO PARIS PALOMA AND ALSO HAPPY I GET TO WRITE SMTHN BASED OFF ONE OF PARIS'S SONGSSSS and special thanks to @housewifeonlsd for proofreading and helping with editing!!

Playlist: hunter by Paris Paloma | Python by GOT7 | Lovers rock by TV Girl | I bet on losing dogs by Mistki | Granite by Sleep token | Sand by Dove Cameron | We Belong by Dove Cameron | COLD BLOODED by Chris Grey | Romantic Homicide by d4vd | Scorpio by TROY | Daylight by David Kushner | Born to die by Lana del Ray | Rises the moon by Liana Flores | POMEGRANITE by hannah bahng | Abysmal by hannah bahng |

The tavern was loud, painfully so, at least to you that is. The rest of the barflies and the guests seem to enjoy themselves at least, dancing to the music played by an elderly man and his acoustic guitar, others listening to the tales told by the drunken hunters and veterans, who are all too happy to share their war stories for a moment of recognition.

You don't frequent this pub a lot, at least not at this time of night, you have a job to do after all, and yet you find yourself sitting at the bar nursing a cold glass of strawberry cider while you listen to the men badger on. You're really only here for your friend, Seonghwa, owner of the Halazia tavern. He asked you to come in, scare some respect into the men who's bothered his regulars and brushed fingers with his workers a few too many times for comfort.

You're the only one in the bar with the hood of your cowl still drawn up, nobody notices that, nor the box and arrows placed carefully next to you as you lean back against the bar and study the men. “Yaknow, I get I was askin’ for a favor, but sittin’ here drinkin’ on my dime aint actually helpin’ the problem” Seonghwas voice sounds behind you, the southern twang to it a bit lighter in his sultry voice than it is with some of his other workers.

“I'm studying them, can't attack without proper knowledge of your enemy Hwa, you know this” you turn your head to shoot him a smile, drinking in his appearance: hair long and messily tied back with a clip your pretty sure he stole from you the last time you were around, he's wiping off the counter behind you, face flushed from being in the heat of the kitchen only moments prior, apron tied around his waist.

You don't like studying people, especially not when it comes to your friends, it's an annoying habit of survival, one some primal part of your brain refuses to turn off no matter how much you beg it too. Seonghwa is too perfect, you purse your lips as his attention is focused on a speck of dirt that doesn't seem to want to listen to him and his trusted cloth. His hands aren't caloused, despite the work he does, they're delicate and well manicured, opposite of yours, grime and dried blood under your own nails after every kill, callouses on your fingers that are roughly shaven off when you know you don't have a hunt for the next few days.

His face stays unblemished, no marks of any kind, no scars of battle, no dots that show his travels in the sun. You suspect he's what you would've looked like had you been born into a different life, and while deep down it hurts a part of you, on the surface level you cannot care for it. You were made for this, for protecting, killing, each part of yourself, no matter how much you dislike it, it serves to further your purpose in life.

You move your focus back to the drunkard twisting his own tales, the ladies and young men around him all looking at him in interest. “So you've met him then? met Visha?“ a young hunter asks excitedly, you don't bother to remember his face, he'll die within the week. “Hey I heard Visha was a woman!” a young lady next to him protests but her eyes are still on the drunkard, “still did you meet her?”

The drunkard, a big man, broad shoulders with a brown beard and locks that reach his shoulders, he seems almost too big for his seat, as if his legs are uncomfortable but his face tells the opposite story. “Visha? Of course I've met him.��� The young woman's smile falters a bit as the pronoun leaves the drunkard's lips, but she doesn't say anything else. “I mean he's skilled, sure, but the rumors crack him up to be some type of legend- he isn't. He's a hunter. That's all he is” the man takes a gulp of his beer as his friend continues, the tinier man already drunk.

“You young hunters should stop idolizing him- he let a beast go yaknow?” there's a sharp intake in the room, whispers break out and you can feel Seonghwa’s eyes on you as both him and his workers start moving to the kitchen- they know what comes next and they hate having dirty uniforms. “And where did you get that information from?” you call out to the two rumor spinners as you face them, one leg crossed over the other and hood still covering your face.

“Hey lady, no need to yell from all the way over there. We're hunters ourselves, you can trust us. ” The smaller man gives a slimy smile but the larger one stays quiet, almost like he can feel something is wrong. “Dilin Royer, Veteran of the West war, although the word veteran is a stretch given you never actually fought in it, only trained for a year before running away-” the man stands up, his glass of beer being thrown at you head, you simply move to the side as it smashes against the wall, internally cringing for the scolding Seonghwas going to give you for that. You pick up a piece of the glass that had landed on the counter next to you as you start using it to clean your nails, some leftover blood from your last kill still being stuck underneath.

“Who do you think you are? Do you know who I am? Who he is, ” the tiny man, Dilin, points his hand to his friend as his face turns red in fury, “Rayder Terkem. Son of Commander Terkem- well estranged son given the fact that you had multiple of your squad members killed and took credit for their work, ” you tilt your head looking at the two despite knowing that they can't see your eyes. The bigger man, Rayder, stands up now finally, “Listen here tramp, I don't know where you got your information from but you've got it wrong, so say one more word and I'm feeding you to Visha’s beast myself, ” he throws his glass down just as his partner had threw his at you. Internally you cringe at the fact that another broken glass only means an angier Seonghwa.

You watch the shards of the glass splatter, hitting some of the young hunters who were gathered around Dilin and Rayder, cuts on their faces and open arms, much smaller versions of the scars they'll receive in the future of this career. “Really? You're that close to Visha Odessa? The legendary Visha Odessa?“ you force your voice to sound a bit surprised, and Dilin smirks as Rayder nods. “Well that's funny because I know I'd never acquaint myself with a coward and a traitor, ” you huff out laughter as you pull down your hood, staring at them and finally they see your face.

The dots littering your cheeks, proof of your work under the mother-suns watch, the scar running over your nose a tell-tale sign of who you are. It's something every young hunter is told, a warning, for as much as they admire the legend there's a reason Visha stays just that - a legend.

“Visha’s loyalty to our nature-mother had granted them a constellation of their own, littered on their face, the scar running across their nose a reminder of the pain they receive in honour of our nature-mother. ”

You never minded the name they'd given you, didn't care enough to fight back when they called you Visha for poison, you had known your blood was poisoned for a long time now. Visha for the poison in your blood and Odessa for the pain you receive in order to carry out your duties to mother nature, to fulfill your purpose.

You didn't mind the name they'd given you, but you did mind when they used it in vain, when they used it to fulfill a status they saw as important without carrying out their own duties. “Oh yeah?” The men had clearly realised their mistake, but Dilin seems like a man with a big ego, one who even when faced with the hunter known to bring death, won't back down. It's not a brave act, it's a stupid one, one made in an act of self preservation of an ego rather than a life.

“You wouldn't acquaint yourself with a coward nor a traitor, but you would with a beast?" The moment the words have left Dilins lips, the last syllable barely escaping, an arrow shoots through his throat, pinning his frame against the wall behind him with it's force. A gurgle leaves his mouth, blood dripping down to the couch he was previously sitting on and you know Seonghwa will absolutely tear you a new one, but you don't care.

Rayder looks at you, eyes filled with anger as his gaze darts between the strung bow in your hands, the new arrow you already have pointed at him, and his friend, dead, lifeless pinned up against the wall like some sort of warning, like a message. A message Rayder chose to ignore, his bulky arm raises, an axe in his hand that he's ready to throw but you're quicker, letting the next arrow hit his wrist, pinning it to the wall and causing his own axe to imbed itself in his freshly dead friend's head. He lets out a scream, one you ignore as you start nocking your next arrow.

Rayder blabbers on, trying to call the younger hunters around him to help out but they don't move, they know better. His voice is background static as you aim the next arrow at him, now between his eyes, he looks at you with disdain. “A coward- only a coward would kill the two opposing he-” his words aren't finished as the arrow hits him. You sigh, slinging your bow on your back and downing your last bit of cider before putting your glass back down, pulling up your hood as you start to walk out.

The tense atmosphere breaks as the young hunters start screaming. The workers come out from the kitchen, not in a rushed pace because they already know what's happened. It's much too common of an occurrence for you to have to deal with people like these for Seonghwa and sure you may have went a little far this time, indenting the wall and executing them so publically, but they pissed you off, the words from their vile mouths seeped in beneath your skin, mixing with your tainted blood, creating a more intoxicating poison flowing in your veins.

You catch Seonghwas eyes as you reach the back door, his lips are pressed as he looks at the scene and then at you, as if he can't decide between being angry at the mess, or worried at the unusual display of inhumane violence from you. You don't give him a chance to decide as you open the door and disappear from the tavern without one last glance.

You know how the story goes, how long the travels take and the possibility of never being able to come back, one last glance at your friend's tavern could be all it takes to distract you. The last glance is not motivation to return, it's hesitation to go, you can not share Seonghwa a last glance, you cannot hesitate.

The night air hits you, the wind blowing the fresh smell of the trees and berries up the mountain down to the mouth of the woods where you stand outside the tavern. It's 's quiet, save for the few noises of the night and voices from the quiet growing town, it's the complete opposite of the inside of the tavern where your comfort person resides, and yet, you enjoy this more.

Enjoying the cold breeze, the smell of everything around you, the awareness the earth brings, the figure lurking in the shadows of the Taverns outside walls as it waits for your call. You take a breath, deep as you inhale almost tasting the scent of strawberries that lingers in the air, you're tired and yet you know within the next few seconds you will have to aim your bow again, lest the figure believe you've gone soft.

“Why do you defend me?” his voice asks, playfull, as if you can hear the smirk even if you have yet to see his face hidden in the night, “I do not defend you, I defend myself” you state, “and yet you shot them when they spoke of me” he steps into the light, and you can see his face, almost hopeful as he looks at you, “I shot them because I didn't want to be associated with you, and I'll shoot you too if I need to” you draw your arrow and he steps closer, as if daring you “You won't, you won't kill me [Name]? ” the smirk from his face has disappeared, the daringness now replaced with something else, something more desperate that you can't quite place.

“Why won't you kill me? ” his voice is almost a broken whisper, the words falling from his mouth with a curiosity, an intense desperate curiosity, a broken curiosity only heard from those who had been at their limit. You don't answer him, you don't give him the words he wants to hear, you don't do it because you can't. It's the same question that had been plaguing your mind countless nights, hundreds of hunts spent looking down at the beasts you've killed wondering why the image of Wooyoung in the same position sent a nauseating bullet through your skull. You don't answer, instead you shoot your arrow, hitting him in his right shoulder, in the exact same spot you've hit countless times before. “I'll kill you Jung.. just not tonight” not tonight, not tomorrow night… there's always a reason not to, when the time inevitably comes, will you be able to complete your duty?

Wooyoung hisses in pain as he grabs his shoulder, he seems more affected by the shot than he should be, seems weaker, he pulls out the arrow with another hiss before he walks over and hands it to you. A bloody hand slightly trembling, as if the nerves in his shoulder were damaged, he’s not healing, not fast enough. ‘He hasn't fed’, a voice in your head tells you, “You haven't fed, ” you say bluntly, looking from his injury, to the trembling bloody hand holding your arrow, Wooyoung's eyes narrow at you, grabs your hand with his own bloodied one as he places the arrow in your palm, it's a frustrated action, but not rough by any means. He pulls his hand away, hiding the trembling behind his back as the other goes back to holding his slowly healing wound.

“You don't like it when I feed” he states simply, and he's right, he knows you feel like a failure whenever you're reminded of the fact that not killing him causes him to drain more humans every night. “I try to limit it” he says, as if looking for some sort of praise, as if he wants you to be proud of him for starving himself. You hate it, whether he feeds or not, both ways you feel the guilt of knowing you let a beast live. Wooyoung makes you feel a wretched guilt, one buried deep in your heart, that seeps into your bones and wraps around your soul. Maybe that's why you can't kill him, he's a part of you, it's not easy to kill a part of yourself. If it was, Wooyoung wouldn't have been standing in front of you, if killing him was as easy as killing any other beasts, then you wouldn't even have known his name.

You sigh, looking back down to the arrow before placing it with the others, you don't say anything when you turn around, and it's your lack of words that informs Wooyoung he should follow you, it's always like this with you, you'd never accept him outright, but the moments of silence, of you trusting that he'll know what you mean, those stolen little moments mean the world to him, ensures his undead heart beats just a little bit faster each time, as if you bring him closer to mortality with each glance.

He follows, quiet as you walk, watching as you bend to pick up your bag that you had stashed away at the edge of the woods before you enter them. It's only then when Wooyoung starts speaking, when the two of you are in the cover of nature and he knows you'll speak freely, because you feel safer here, away from people. “How long are you staying?” he asks softly, almost afraid of the answer, you don't know why, he usually follows you wherever you go anyways, but to him it means more, the more you stay in one place the greater the chance you can rest, that you'll think, that he gets to spend more time with you. The more time you spend in one place the greater the chance will be that you'll settle down there, with him. At least that's what his deluded mind tells him.

“My work here is done, I'm going by sunrise” Your original plan was to go by nightfall, but Wooyoung doesn't know that, and you don't have to tell him your travel was delayed due to him, he doesn't need more of an ego boost. Wooyoung only nods at your words, the cogs in his head turning as he thinks of how he only has a few hours to spend with you.

You loved the woods, it was the reason you preferred camping in your travels rather than staying at an inn, nature would surround you and you were far gone from men, you loved nature all its soft sounds of life, the leaves blowing and water running, but when Wooyoung was with you, you always had a sense of paranoia. His steps would follow you, silent always until you reached your campsite, he had a habit of going quiet when surrounded by the very thing he is an abomination of, the phantom noise of his steps would haunt your thoughts when you traveled without him, and if you were to ever allow yourself the possibility of forgetting them, then he'd remind you by the next travel.

Always following, his lonely soul drawn to yours, both outcasts in your own communities, a hunter who let a beast live- let a beast feed from her, let a beast poison her with his touch; a beast, not feeding unless given permission, following the every order of one of those vowed to kill him. But the thing was you never did, for all the injuries you had caused and the words you had threatened, for all the times you'd clutch your unsheathed dagger as you stared at him, you never held a true bloodthirsty thrill in your eye, not like he'd seen you hold for others of his kind.

Sure you'd hate him, but was hate not the closest emotion to love? In his mind, it's simply a blessing that you think of him so much, that he's so deeply bedded in your soul for you to even hold such a feeling towards him. Sure you may shoot him with your arrows, you may stab him, but at the end of the day you choose not to kill him, choose to have him feed from your neck, choose to have him keep you warm under the cold blanket of night. Could you really be so sure you hate him, when you let him do things that only make him fall deeper in love?

You reach your campsite and Wooyoung perches himself on a large log of wood as he watches you work, he's tried to help before, but you'd only get mad at him, claiming that you could do everything yourself, he doesn't like it when you're mad, so he sits, he watches, staring into the fire after you'd set it aflame to use the light for constructing your tent. He'd sit and think, maybe even reminisce on all the times he's seen you like this, not knowing that you were doing the same.

The setup of the fire and construction of the tent was muscle memory at this point, you did not have to think of your actions, the motions second nature and so your mind was left free, stolen glances at the usually injured Wooyoung- injuries usually caused by your own hand- would always send you back to the night you had met him.

It was your first hunt, sent out to kill an amature beast, amature was a name unbefitting of him, if he was an amateur you would've been able to kill him. No he was completely new, worse than an amature, turned not even a day before your arrival, having been caught by you during his first feed, he looked so young then, not that he'd aged since, but his bones were skeletal, hair cut choppily, he clinged to the dieing body in his lap, tears flowing from his eyes, mixing with the blood messily dripping down his chin as he fed. His eyes were wide, frenzied as he looked up at you in fear, and yet he could not detach himself from the body.

His sobs still haunt your dreams sometimes, he didn't want this life and yet you had almost killed him for it. He makes you think, makes you question your duty, if each beast you kill had started out like that, it's a dangerous thought, one you wouldn't dare voice nor entertain for too long, but a thought that passed through your mind whenever you look at him in these moments nonetheless.

When you're done, you remove your coat, not undressing but riding yourself of most of your protective gear, a small sign of trust you subconsciously show him, in the presence of anyone else you'd keep it on, and yet when with him you'd leave your weapons, still in reach but not on your person. You sit beside him on the log as you stare into the fire, he moves down, knows its not yet time for him to be sitting next to you, his head rests on you lap, and your hand rests on his head, you don't scratch his scalp yet, it's too early in the night for that affection, it's a routine you two have built, certain actions only happening after the other. You look down at him, his gaze on the fire, as if studying the flames. They cast a light that shines on his face, a warm light that compliments his tanned skin much more than the soft white light of the moon. You guess fires are the closest he'll get to being seen in the sun.

It's dangerous for beasts in the day, when most humans, most hunters are awake, so they hide away, this had spread rumors, rumors that they're nocturnal, others that they're allergic to the sun, but real hunters know it's not true, they're simply afraid, afraid of the hunters that stalk them as they do humans. You look down at Wooyoung, his breathing even and eyes starting to close, for a moment you allow yourself to believe he's human, that maybe life had not dealt the both of you these cards, that you'd met under different circumstances, but as you lift your had to finally pet his head, and your long sleeved shirt rides up just enough to reveal the almost faded marks of his bite on your wrist, reality sets in, even if just enough to remind you of the fact that he is still a beast, yet not enough to remind you that you are a hunter.

You run your fingers through his hair as you lift his head from your lap, making him look up at you as his cheek rests on your palm, he looks pathetic like this, but not in a sad way.. no, it's a picture you'd want saved in your memory, he looks up at you with those big eyes, ones shining as they line with tears, you don't know what for. “You haven't fed, you're weakened” your statement is unnecessary, its information shared before you even stepped foot in the woods, but your statement is not just that, a statement. Wooyoung knows that, you'd never tell him to feed outright, it would go against your very nature just as not feeding goes against his, but at times like these you give him access to the nectar running through your veins, your words spark something in him, a fire in his stomach hotter than the one now behind him.

He turns his head to kiss the inside of your palm, bringing up a hand which he uses to hold yours, fingers slipping between your own as he keeps your palm against his lips for a moment before he moves down, placing featherlight kisses against the coulessed skin before he reaches your pulse point, his other hand moves to push your sleeve away, fingers tracing lightly over the faded marks before he rests it on your wrist to feel your pulse, the most calming beat, your heart. “They've faded” his voice is soft, sad, disappointed at the fact that you've healed, “they have” your own is soft as well, softer than normal at least, although yours is not in disappointment, its inviting, reassuring him to recreate them.

His eyes lock with yours, you watch as they start to shine, big and brown now holding a pathetic type of desperateness. You see his jaw tighten, an action signaling the growth of his fangs and before you know it his teeth puncture your skin. You bite your lip at the subtle pain and he makes a stifled whimper against your skin. His hand that was holding your arm gently now tightens as he feeds, his eyes closing as he relishes in your taste, the one he's missed, the one he's longed for. You try to focus on the feeling of his lips on your skin, not on the fact that he's poisoning your blood further.

You know he's almost done when the edges of the world start to blur, it's a good feeling, a free one. His feeding acts almost like an aphrodisiac, the venom in a beasts veins being injected into their prey to keep them calm and willing, you feel light headed, not enough to faint, but enough to float, to be able to release yourself of the stress, the inner turmoil your actions bring you. Your mind is only consumed with thoughts of him, thoughts of the peace of this moment, not of the wrongs you've committed, not of the failures you've created by being this willing to keep him alive.

You feel his fangs retract from your wrist, his lips still on your skin as he softly kisses off the last drops of blood, he looks up at you, watching closely as his lips start to move from your wrist up your arm, your skin cold due to the drained blood and night air, his lips warm against your arm, once he reaches the part where your rolled up shirt covers the rest of your skin he decides to finally remove himself from your arm. His hand moving to your face, thumb gently moving across your cheek as his eyes trace over the freckles adorning your face as you lean against his hand. He takes in the moment, your eyes fluttered closed, your body lax, face relaxed and void of your usual faux resentment aimed at him, he takes it in because he knows he won't be seeing it any time soon again, won't be given the grace of your true feelings ever, this is the closest he'll ever get to a confession.

The sight warms him, the soft sound of your breath, of your blood thumping in your veins, the pulsepoint in your neck staring back at him tauntingly as your head is leaned on his face, he takes his chance, very little does he get it. The faded marks on your neck almost invisible, more so than the ones on your wrist were mere moments ago, his lips still against the skin of your pulse, feeling it beneath the skin before his teeth sink into you again, careful not to nick an artery, with practised precision, it's not to feed, no he's had enough, but the intimacy of the act, of his lips against your neck, teeth feeling the flow of your blood, injecting his own venom to keep your stress away, the way you don't push him away rather, your hands trace his spine, holding his shoulders.

He knows he needs to let go soon, that you need your rest, but he loves having you in his arms, even if it's just for tonight. He stays like that until you gently squeeze his shoulder, letting him know he needs to retract himself, and he does, with great hesitancy, his lips instead trailing a path up your jawline, your blood that's coated his mouth trailing with him, and he wouldn't be himself if he let the delectable nectar you offered him go to waste, he licks a stripe back down your neck, cleaning you like animals do to one another, before his lips move against your jawline again until they reach your own.

It's only now that he looks at you for permission again, your eyes are barely open, but they catch his, full of love and a warmth that could rival the fire behind him, he doesn't ask, knows better than to speak, whispers in the night could only be carried by the wind, and this is a moment he wants, he needs to stay between the two of you. You simply nod, and that's all he needs, his lips, warm and wet, still covered in trace amounts of your blood find your own. It's a slow kiss at first, as if he's uncertain, he’s testing the waters, but when your hands that were resting on his shoulders move so that your arms could wrap around his neck and pull him closer, he lets himself deepen it. He familiarizes himself with the feel of your mouth against his own as he's done many times before, he guides your body, off the log and onto the ground without separating himself from you, he forgets that he needn't breathe sometimes, that it's only an action he does to make him feel more human.

Why would he need to breathe if the action would interrupt him kissing you? Its a sin, truly a tragedy that you pull away for a moment, even if he lets his mouth explore down your jaw again while you regain your breath, you're tired, he can tell, and as your breathing becomes normal again, and he feels your neck slumps against him, he knows you're down. He sighs as his lips finally detach from your skin, admiring the marks his teeth have left, he moves your head to rest on his chest, he knows you'll wake up before him, and even though he doesn't have to sleep, even though he doesn't want to because he knows when he wakes up you'll be gone, he can't bare to stay awake and have to plead with you again.

Too many times has he asked you to stay, to actually kill him in lieu of leaving, and too many times have you stabbed the dagger, he knows is strapped to your thigh, into his heart while he slept, disappearing into the early morning with his blood coating your most prized weapon as he regains consciousness just a moment too late.

He looks down at you, the dimming fire beside you illuminating the freckles on your face, he wishes to kiss every single one, he wishes you'd let him hold you as a lover all the time, not just in moment of weakness in the middle of the night when nobody can see. He wishes he doesn't disgust you, but Wooyoung has learned a long time ago that wishes are a force of nature, and nature doesn't take too well to his kind, after all she created yours just to end his own.

The tent you had built is long forgotten as you lay in Wooyoung's arms, his eyes closing with the last sparks of the fire burning out, the gentle purring of his chest lulling you into a deeper unconsciousness, in theory it be easy for Wooyoung to kill you. You're in his arms, completely at his mercy, but that's only in theory. If you were easy to kill he would've done it already.

When the sun starts to rise, and your eyes open, you silently prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at the sleeping man- sleeping beast beneath you, for someone who doesn't need sleep, he sure doesn't wake up easily. The dagger strapped to your thigh seems painfully heavy as you look down at him, reaching up to move a peace of his hair out of his face, you lean down to kiss his forehead, the action of love accompanied by your hand unsheathing the dagger and pressing it down into his heart.

He won't die, not if you pull it out, but he'll be passed out long enough for you to leave, and even if he'll probably find you within the week, you can still give yourself the delusion of believing you'd done your job.

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[agirlwithglam]

studying for exam week! 📑🎀📚

hi loves! so i have tests & exams coming up so in case it would help anyone else, i'm gonna be talking about my study schedule including some more additional things like mindsets and other actions that keep me motivated!

routine!

i have latin, spanish, 2 math, 2 science and a geography paper coming up. for me, the priority is the math, science and spanish tests so i will be focussing more on those.

so here's how i'd make a game plan:

choose the priority subjects, so you know what you need to work on.

do practice papers/ whatever revision technique that works for that subject. then anytime you make a mistake, note it down somewhere so you know thats something you may have to touch on ex: for studying math, i do practice papers and any time i don't know how to do a question/ get something wrong, i make sure to write it down somewhere so i know what i need to remember/ work on.

if creating a rigid schedule that u must follow after school doesn't work for you, create a bare minimum of studying that you need to do daily so even if u have literally 10 mins, you can still do something. what i do is that for the very bare minimum, I do at least a certain set of practice math questions everyday. that way even if i don't have too much time to do a lot of studying, i don't just put it off and say "oh i only have 20-30 mins, i'll just do it tmrw"

a couple things i'll be doing to keep me sane & motivated: 🎆🧁

~ changing up the environment. i'll go to starbucks or a nearby boba shop, or you can stay late at the school library- that way you can't get distracted, or if you can only stay at home, JAZZ IT UPP! work on the floor, in the living room, on the dining/ coffee table, or if ur on ur table, move some things around, light up candles, play different types of music to fully just romanticise and change things up!

~ study buddies - it can be really discouraging and boring to study all day long, but remember: you're not in it alone! find a friend who you can study with and won't get distracted. sometimes this won't be ur bff or someone you're super close to but maybe the girl you sit next to in math class who's very academic will be the one who you can face time when ur at home to study together and if one of you has questions, you can ask the other!

~ during study breaks... there is so much you can do which is so satisfying and fun + will motivate you to keep going like for example;

scrolling through pinterest in a study board/ for study motivation. (i have an academic weapons pinterest board with videos, images, quotes, etc that motivate me to try harder!)

watch gilmore girls or smth

read a book you ACTUALLY like

listen to upbeat music that u love and dance (or you can just sit and chill to let urself regenerate)

take a quick video of yourself and check in with what you've done so far

~ create an aesthetic notion page! this will 10x your fun in studying, TRUST ME. you can either search up on yt 'how to make a notion for studying' or check notion's library as they have loads of options! (or ofc u can make one urself based on ur own needs and wants <3 )

the mentality & reasons to study: 💋☕️

girl these mindsets is what has and will get me fighting through the studying & wanting to reach for even more!! i KNOW that at the very least, one of them will get u fighting harder. so here are some of mindsets/ reasons to study!

aint no way i'm going to let that stupid stereotype of "men are smarter" to be true

the thought of a man saying "you're nothing without me" disgusts me SO MUCHHH

the devil couldn't reach me so now he's trying to bring me down with distractions and hard math problems. AM I GOING TO LET HIM WIN???

become everything i would ever want in someone else.

becoming everything i would ever want to be MYSELF. - an act of true self love.

i have things to do in my life. i am going to become a powerful, confident, rich woman.

because being educated and smart is so freaking attractive like to myself personally.

i want to be the top of my class.

learning! sometimes we often forget that the purpose of the tests is to ensure that we've truly learnt the information. so develop an interest in learning to things! in becoming cultured, educated, rich in knowledge because thats what makes you so powerful.

i am the beauty & brains

inspiring icons: 💬👠

1) emma watson

"Don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do or achieve. Do what you want to do and be who you want to be."

i love this queen so much its unreal. she's everything i wanna be. shes a strong, confident, educated woman who is also so beautiful. also hermione granger is an amazing studying icon as well (played by emma watson). she prioritises herself & her education over anything else thats irrelevant yet still maintains that feminine aspect by being kind and empathetic (though you'll never catch her letting someone walk over or take advantage of her). she's articulate, well spoken, and confident in herself & who she is which is the type of mindset i need in the test!!

2) blair waldorf

"destiny is for losers. it's just a stupid excuse to wait for things to happen instead of making them happen." she ate with that one. oh and another one: "forget boys, keep your eyes on the prize" . she has so many iconic quotes i cold make a whole post listing them but i will leave these 2 for now.

i love blair waldorf's study ethic and determination, i think its something we all should strive for. she knows how to handle herself, she knows what she wants, and she gets it + doesn't let anyone distract her or get in her way. no matter what. thats what i admire about her! the vibe is posh, elegant, studying in a way where you get everything done <3

3) kat stratford

"you forget, i don't care what people think"

ugh i love her and her i hate men attitude lowkey. she's so confident in herself and she does not try to please anyone else but her. shes also so educated and knows what she wants & aint afraid to be herself! QUEENNN

when i'm pretending to be her/ studying like her, i feel like it gives the vibe of studying furiously, angry in a way and not letting anyone or anything get in your way because you're literally just better than that.

BMAC

[moodymisty]

You know what I think? Since most of the primachs are emotionally constipated along with their legions except Vulkan. I headcanon that gestures ( like hugs or Emperor forbid kissing(on the cheek) that might be acceptable amongst friends. Your primach lover/husband probably won't like or think every male other primachs will try to take u away. If it's a baseline human then depending on the primarch they're getting unalived. Or Peter Turbo will most likely throwing them of a balcony. Sanguinius on the other hand I see him being more lenient... on the surface. The angel will probably be a little pissed off.

Bobby G I see him nipping it in the bud and Konrad will probably just eat them or send em to the next chew toy of the Night lords.

I think depending on the legion they'll be offended for the genefather if a human tried to flirt with their Legion Mother. Plus it aint like they're gonna get another one. Not in this lifetime at least. ex Blood Angel's and Salmanders

The night lords would deal with the homewrecker immediately to prevent Konrad from going off the deep end and repeat the flesh statue incident

Lorgar would probably see it as sacrilegious for quote 'Attempting to separate the bond of him and his love, his soul mate, and goddess. You must perish for that.'

Since most of the legion and primarchs see humans as expendable except the Salmanders. I wonder how it'll go over if reader was a human from Terra whose heart goes out for the common man. Or reader tries to save her friend by pleading for her primarch to forgive the 'transgression'

Ps. I see that afterwards reader won't have many friends at least outside of the space marines. Or any friends she does have will distant themselves to avoid triggering a jealous Primarch

Sorry this is so long. Just wanted to know your thoughts

I agree with this a lot. It's easy to see how they would misinterpret friendly gestures, or allow love to turn into possession. And as for the legion, they are vehemently programmed to protect their primarch and in their mind their primarch's beloved eventually in a way becomes part of them, and is wrapped in that vehement protection, but being a baseline it's ever worse. People just trying to talk to her and show her respect get threatened until she has no one but her primarch and his men.

also yeah... sorry i vomited some writing here real quick.

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

“Please, calm down!”

The Space wolf lieutenant largely ignores your plea, standing tall and intimidating the man who sits at the left end of the table. The other astartes of your retinue are similarly on guard, both in defense of their lieutenant. You are frozen in your seat thanks to a ceramite gauntlet holding you down, the marine attempting to push his body between you and their new target.

“Our Wolf Mother is betrothed to Primarch Russ. And you, some measly baseline, attempt to steal her?”

The man glances to you briefly as you try to argue on his behalf, standing up.

“Lieutenant! He was only being polite, stop this!”

Perhaps the man’s choice in words was a bit tackless, but he had clearly meant not much by it, however the Wolves take even the slightest thing so incredibly seriously.

"You are a beautiful and smart woman," His hand reached forward to gently touch yours over top of the papers you have stacked. "If only I had gotten to you before the Space Wolves did!"

Normally your men listen to you well; If Russ issues orders your husband will quite obviously rank above you, but they still take your opinion into a surprising amount of account. But for some reason during these past few months, as they've begun to call you Wolf Mother, they have shown their teeth and threatened anyone who so much as comes within grabbing distance of you.

"This is ridiculous, quit this!"

You look to the man who has lost all blood in his face, under the glare of a massive Space Wolf with braids decorating his hair. "I am so sorry, there's been a horrible misunderstanding and I-" You choke on your words as the instigating Space Wolf turns to you.

"There has been no misunderstanding, he-" You open your mouth and quickly speak, cutting him off. "No, there has been! The man was using hyperbole, he didn't actually mean what he said!"

The wolf looks down at you, and you see anger in his face slowly simmer down. You silently thank the Emperor and breath a sigh, putting your head in your hands.

This behavior keeps getting worse; You feel like you're stuck in a vice trap. So many people fallen from your life because they fear the snap of a Space Wolf's teeth, or worse, their Primarch's. You know Russ is instigating this behavior, encouraging it, is part of it, keeping you feeling so suffocated. You're so tired, you don't understand why they're acting like this.

Your head in your hands you let out a shaky breath, pressing down on the corners of your eyes so water doesn't leak from them. This is all too much. As you lean back up, the lieutenant sees the redness in your eyes and while stoic, is still noticeably concerned that you're about to cry.

"Wolf Mother… Are you well?" You take a deep breath and clear your throat.

"I'm fine. We should go." When you go to get up again, the gauntlet on your shoulder gives way and lets you rise up. You dip your head at the man who is starting to have color return to his face, now that he no longer is being threatened.

"I am so sorry, on behalf of everything. We'll be taking our leave."

You move to walk away, and your retinue follows close behind; Like a shadow.

[lilith0fthevalley]

I Still Got It! {Cowboy!Leon x Reader}

Era of Leon? Death Island.

Spring break aways was a bitch in Newt, Texas. A sweet little town surrounded by ranches and farms, segmented by too many dirt roads to count. … A sweet little town terrorized by college kids for a week plus–damn universities and their  ‘alternate schedules’. It was stuff like that, that caused the cocky, hormone laden little shits with a chip on their shoulder and something to prove to crawl out into the pubs, bars, and saloons that peppered the main street of Newt. One in particular is the Snakebite Saloon. It stands between the bookstore and the post office, across the street from the general store, is ran by Y/N L/N, and is where we find ourselves…

In the amber light of Snakebite, Y/N looks up with a half lidded, lips pursed, unamused gaze. Past the bar, to the right of the swinging wooden doors, a round, wooden table was knocked down, glass and booze littered the scuffed, stained oak as a group of 3 men clammored around, pulling each other around in a drunken brawl. 75% of the other patrons are ignoring the tussle while the other 25% are watching with wide eyes and an alcohol fueled haze in their expressions. A brunette in a red flannel, white tanktop and her hair in a pony tail lets out a cheer. “Kick his ass, Leon!!” She slurs before laying her head back down on the bar with a flurry of giggles leaving her lips. Y/N yanks the towel off her shoulder and gently smacks the drunken brunette. “Quit that, Claire. Don’t encourage him.” The bartender chides, but there’s no anger in her tone, only resignation. 

“Y’gonna let it go a bit longer or want me to step in?” Another brunette asks, leaning against the bar with her arms crossed. This one wears a blue tube top, her hair in a bob cut, and charcoal work jeans. Y/N shakes her head and lets out a sigh. “.... Nah, I got it.” She mutters and vaults the counter and strides to the edge of the ‘danger zone’, letting the fight play out for a beat longer. One of the university students have retreated while the polo of the other’s collar is in Leon’s fist–white knuckled and angry. The blond-brunet, older cowboy chambers his fist back. 

And he swings.

“This aint–!” 

“The city!” Another punch.

“You pull a knife out here–!” Blood coats his knuckles. “You better be ready to bleed, boy!”

Crack. 

The sound isn’t the younger man’s jaw, or another piece of the bar’s furniture, or even the billiard balls clacking together. No, it’s the sound of– 

“Shit! Fuckin’! Dammit!” Leon barks out and drops the kid onto the wood floor in favor of pressing a hand to his hips. He staggers back, away from the student, who is dragged, unceremoniously, from the fray by his accomplice. A string of southern twinged cusses fly from the older man’s lips.

Leon’s worn leather boots click as he stumbles to steady himself. The weathered blue jeans are stained and sticky with Jack Daniels-courtesy of his glass-and some cheap tequila-graciously poured by the younger men who initiated the faceoff. His blue, lined button up was torn open, revealing his heaving chest and the whisper of muscles that once permeated his sculpted body. His stetson has been lost somewhere in the scrap. He isn’t too worried about it. ‘Y/N’ll find it when she closes.’ He reasons. 

As he doubles over to soothe the sharp pain, a pair of hazelnut Ariat boots round the floor, stepping into his view. He doesn’t even need to look up or listen to know who it is. “Did’ya throw yer back out again? Or was it your hip this time?” Y/N’s voice breaks over the sound of the usual patrons movements to reset the placement of the bar they call home. Leon glances up with a narrowed icy eye and huffs. 

“Neither, actually. Thanks for steppin’ in.” He bites out sarcastically. A stifled groan left him as he forced himself to stand straight. 

He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, the picture of earned arrogance. An image he had earned in his younger years; A time when his hair wasn’t flecked with locks of salt-and-pepper, and any sweeping motions were taken at a quicker pace. 

“I still got it, Sugar!” He attempts to mask his wounded pride with a sharp jut of his jaw and slow blink. Y/N just chuckled and shook her head as she patted his shoulder carefully. “Heatin’ pad ’s in the back office, on the first aid kit.”

~~~

{{Psssst! Here's a smutty ending!}}

[indiasthoughts]

"Can you roll my window up?"

---------

aka- , eren, and xiao, x black readers turn on this trend

---------

warnings;;

suggestive, but no smut, x black reader, ,, use of the n word , fluff, she/her/hers pronouns, lowkey toxic relationships, SASSY MEN SASSY MEN SASSY MEN SASSY MEN!!!!

---------

authors note: ik this is such a silly contrast aot and genshin but i been craving all both men sooo😮‍💨

and for reference--

︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Ps: this is old work but i desperately need smth to post so mind the cornyness pls 🙈

୨⎯ Eren ⎯୧

Inside of the 6'3 mans black BMW M4 was a beautiful girl in his passengers seat, annoyed and frustrated.

see- this girl had a few things that annoyed her that he knew of yet still did when she rode in someones car.

one- rolling her window down and leaving her cold in her black skims dress. two- playing music she's not fond of at the moment, if she's in a brent faiyaz mood why play warren g? and three- not listening to what she had to say.

so when her boyfriend, Eren, of three months did all three at the same time frustration ng came crashing down

"Eren, baby, please roll my window up.", rubbing her arms to create any sort of warmth.

- and to no avail, ignored.

"babe..."

- ignored.

she furrowed her eyebrows and turnt the music down to a volume of 2.

"Can you roll my window up?!"

"No, ur attitude ruining my vibe bro"

As "2SEATER" By tyler the creator started playing, he turned the volume up, but not as high as he had it before, out of the slightest bit of respect.

"Who the fuck is your bro?"

"Ma what I told you about swearing?"

She reached over to his side, unbuckling the seatbelt as her boyfriend stopped at a red light. she pressed the passengers window button and rolled her window up.

"Now the music aint hitting from all angles!!"

"Imma hit you from all angles."

He once again put the windows down.

"Whos car this is?"

"Who sitting here?"

"Ion know what you have an attitude for..."

"Oh my god."

she leaned into her seat, embracing the cold she'd have to deal with for the next 15 minutes.

about another minute passed, and Eren was already tired of the awkward atmosphere.

"Baby im sorry"

"mhm.."

he held a small frown as he pulled up into a empty parking spot .

Tyler spoke in the background- 'the fuck you turn my music down for?'

"mamas it's us" he said with the widest grin he could possibly hold.

'can you roll my window up?'

you lip synced to the girl's parts.

'Why? damn.'

as he would too.

"Cause it's windy." You audibly spoke this time.

"But I love it when your hair blows."

as the beat dropped, he reached in and gave you a kiss.

ewww this was so sickenlybsweet ugh me and who🤢🤢

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

୨⎯ Xiao ⎯୧

you and your boyfriend, Xiao had been lying down in his bedroom, while you played with his cat on his lap, he did his homework. There was a specific way he liked to have his room, cold. whether it's the ac blasting on days where the cold was too much too have his windows open, or open windows, on the warmer days. Today happened to be one of the warmer days. And despite the baggy sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and one of his sweaters, his room was still too cold for you. As much as you cuddles up with Astro, the cat, and your boyfriend, it was still unbearable.

"Xiao, lets close the windows please.."

"I won't be able to concentrate."

he furrowed his eyebrows and said that with in the sturnest way he could.

"I'm gonna head into the living room then"

You grabbed the cat, and as quick as one leg came down, it came back up.

He played a faveorite playlist of his, when "2SEATER" came first.

"Sit back down pretty?" more of a question than a command.

"Damnn nigga it's cold!"

"m'sorry, stay wimme ok?"

He turned the volume up and held your waist, bringing his lips to your neck and nibbling your neck.

You knit your brows together, feeling a gush of cold air, and flinched softly. Taking his phone that was connected to his JBL speaker, and lowering it.

"Can you roll the windows up?"

"Whyd you turn the music down"

he puts it back on, lowly chuckling at the perfect timing on the song.

"Can you roll it up?"

"Why?, damn"

"Because it's!-"

You slowly realise the timing on the song and this mini arguement.

"But i love it when your hair blows.."

As he finally removed his lips from your neck, and tilting your neck to crane your head and meet his lips.

[frank1nsaint]

Franklin Part 3

Warnings: Use of curse words and N-word

“Why you been dodging me?” Franklin asks you as soon as you open the door to your house 

You step out “I have no idea what you’re talking about” 

“Oh so those pages and calls to your phone?” he points towards the inside of your house “They didn't happen?” 

You shrug “I don't know maybe you dialed the wrong number” you had no plan to explain to him why you hoped he would just take the hint and let you be, it had been 3 weeks since your first date

He throws his hands up “Come on Y/N what happened? We were just good not too long ago I was gonna take you on another date’n shit” 

“I don’t think we would be good for each other Franklin” 

“Why you say that? we just talked about you not sabotaging” he points between both of you “this” 

“Im not” 

He leans in “You are” he argues 

“Franklin we aren’t good for each other just accept that” you state matter of factly before you turn to go in

He grabs your arm gently “Nah you owe me an explanation” 

“I don’t!” you answer defiantly snatching your arm away

“Yes the fuck you do. I’m puttin’ my best foot forward and you fuckin’ it up on purpose cuz of what? you fucking scared of the shit I do? Aint nobody gon touch you Y/N they dont touch Wanda  and her dope head ass what make you think they gon fuck withchu?”

You sigh “Franklin” 

“Nah fuck that Y/N” 

“You really wanna know?”

He nods “Yes I do, enlighten me” 

You pause “I can’t trust you Franklin”  

His face holds a confused look “What are you even...?” 

“After our date, some of your henchmen came up to me. Guess what they said to me?”

Franklin held his breath he feels his heart beat start to increase. You start to mock the mannerisms and voice of the men “shit I heard you and my boy Saint had a date last night” He shrugs “So i told them we went on a date big deal”  praying that's where the story ends 

You continue “Men I lost my $200 and my boy came up on a smooth couple grand” you pause and look at him “ha-ha my man Saint he a G tho” you return to a normal voice “then he proceeds to tell me that there was a bet between you and your fucking crew, you got two grand if i actually went on a date with you?” you scoff “if you were that hard up for money Saint all you had to do was ask I could have given you that and we wouldn’t be having this conversation” 

“Y/N let me explain” this was not as it seemed 

“Not even 24 hours passed after our date and I’m hearing you went rounding up your niggas so they could pay you!" you paused "And OH! if I fucked you it would have been an additional $3000”  you say sarcastically

“Y/N” he calls

You start mocking another guy “My girl Y/N, my sunshiiinneee yo yo yo shit if i had known all i had to do was ask you all proper and shit you would be my girl now. May I take you to dinner Y/N, miss congeniality” you tilt your head “they said you looked pretty in that green dress last night wish it was me instead of that nigga!” 

“Who approached you?” he asked with a deep scowl on his face.  

“I’ll give you that Saint. You played me good. You played a good game” you begin to walk away 

“Hold up, hold up, hold up,  who came up to you?” He asked again You return his mug “I’m not telling you Franklin! It doesn’t matter anyway you up 1 grand right?” 

“Y/N listen I will explain later but who told you that? They are a liability to my shit!” 

You shrug “what that got to do with me?” 

“Tell me their fuckin’ names Y/N!” he demands

You sigh “you betted on me” 

“Y/N” 

In a soft tone you say “$2000 for the date, additional $3000 if we fucked, had people follow us, Big Saint, The Man, The Myth, The Legend show you lil niggas how its done” you pause “right?...... Saint?” 

He looks up and runs his hand down his face feeling like his heart was going to explode word for word you quote what he had that night (“show you lil niggas how its done”) “Y/N please just tell me who told you that and I will explain everything” he begs 

“If you wanted the money all you had to do was ask Franklin” 

“Y/N, I don’t care about the money” “But you still made sure to collect, right?” you pause “Then you got the nerve to get annoyed at the fact that I was sabotaging the date!”  you scoff in disbelief and begin to walk into your house 

Franklin grabs your arm “Y/N listen!”

“Don’t Franklin!”  you warn removing yourself from his grip 

He blocks the door with his body “Y/N This aint a fucking game who approached you?! I need to know!” 

You shook your head, you look him in the eye “I’m not gonna tell you Saint” 

He tilted his head and pauses with an offended tone he says “Don’t call me that, I'm not Saint to you it’s either Franklin or any other fucking thing else but I’m not Saint to you!” 

You go to say something else but decide not “Fucking Asshole!” you mutter looking down at your sweater pulling small knots that had formed

He released a deep sigh “Fine I’ll take that but you need to tell me who approached you.” he moves his head trying to get you to look up at him. You remain silent. “Tell me Y/N” 

You shake your head “I’m not gonna tell you Franklin”

“WHY?!” he pauses to gather himself “You know how serious this shit is?” “SO YOU CAN GO KILL THEM?!” “OH MY GOD AINT NOBODY THINKIN’ ABOUT KILLING THEM NIGGAS!” he looks around  and moves closer to you  “keep your fucking voice down!” he whispers harshly You scoff “It’s all good Saint” Almost immediately he sizes you up and with gritted teeth he says “What the fuck did I just say?”  

You feel shiver run down, it shocked you so much that you instinctively jump move away slightly, but you hold your ground still glaring at him before you step away and snicker and nod a few of times with tears in your eyes 

With instant regrets he breaks his stance and takes a step back to show that his anger isn't’ aimed at you. “Just tell me” he says in a significantly softer tone 

“I’m not gonna tell you Franklin, I don’t want their deaths on me because you decided to be an asshole all over $5000?” 

He steps towards “Y/N please”

You step away with your hand up “It’s all good Franklin, I hope you put that $1000 to good use” a tear drops from your eyes “Y/N” “No hard feelings really Franklin, but you know this can’t work ever, doesn’t matter your explanation.” another tear from your right eye begins to roll down “wish you the best in your business stay safe out there” 

“Y/N! No no no no please please please!” he begs gently grabbing your hand trying to stop you but also making sure to not scare you away 

You pull your hand away “Goodnight Franklin” you speak before closing the door. 

He looks at the door for a moment before turning and walking away towards his car. He turns on the car and begins to drive away “FFFUUUCCCKKKK!” he screams feeling the rage course through him as he speeds on the freeway

Franklin walks in and slams the door causing Jerome to jump up from his seat gun drawn “MOTHAFUCKA I ALMOST SHOT YOU WHAT THE HELL WRONG WITCHU?!” 

They hear footsteps before Louie is stand ny the door “JEROME? WHO THE FUCK IS THAT? FRANKLIN!?” she comments frantically looking around for the threat “Not now” he grits out

“NIGGA WHO YOU THINK YOU TALKIN’ TO?!  WALKIN’ UP IN MY HOUSE SLAMMIN’ MY SHIT. I'll FUCK YOU UP!” Jerome bellows 

The phone rings and Franklin picks up “Hello?! meet me at Jerome house, now nigga, YES NOW! Bring Sean witchu!”

“WHAT THE HELL GOING ON FRANKLIN WHAT HAPPENED?” Louie asks “THEM LITTLE MOTHAFUCKAS DONE WENT AND TOLD Y/N ABOUT THE BET!” “WHAT? WHAT BET?” Louie asks

Jerome looks at Franklin like he has three heads “NIGGA WHAT??? YOU MAD OVER THAT STUPID ASS BET?” Franklin took major offence to Jeromes accusations, tilting his head to the side “You laughing but if I can't trust them to not tell a bitch about a stupid ass bet I can’t trust them in my shit!! They gone blow up our spot and fuck up our shit.” he points to his head  “You not thinking Unc” Jerome paused and realised the gravity of the situation 

“What is this bet? And what it got to do with that lil girl?” Louie asked as she looked between the two 

Jerome gently waved her away “I’ll explain it to you later baby just let us be” 

Louie scoffed “Shit mothafucka walkin’ in here slamming doors”

“Louie” Franklin commented 

“Nigga fuck you!”  

Franklin squared up Louie “AYE! AYE! AYE! WE DON'T NEED ALL THAT NOW!” 

Franklin huffed and turned to continue his pace 

In 10 minutes Leon and Sean arrived

“Nigga what happened” Leon asked gun already out 

“We got some rat ass mothafuckas in our crew look how they got Franklin!”  Jerome pokes fun at him “Nigga pacing around and shit over a bitch!” he jokes 

“UNC!”  Franklin warns

“What... happened?” Sean asked confused 

“Y/N told me that niggas from our crew approached her telling her about the bet”

“Soooo...” Leon looked at Franklin confused 

“So?” Franklin returned the expression “You niggas not thinking?” he paused “I GOTTA DO ALL THE THINKIN’ AROUND HERE??!!” 

“We don’t” Sean speaks trying to rationalise their confusion 

“If they running to tell her about a bet, a bet made between everyone in that room, what makes you think they not blowing up our spot?”

The men looked between each other the reality finally setting in for everyone that they could be completely exposed for anything at any moment. 

“Our competitors, our opps, our product,  our recipe, our schedule, our plug, our money, our peoples” Franklin states 

“We got it Nephew” Jerome comments wanting him to not continue hating the feeling of being vulnerable 

Franklin chuckled and looked around at them and in a whisper he sneers “and you niggas think I’m mad over a bitch when I got some snake ass mothafuckas in my crew??!! I GOT BIGGER PROBLEMS NIGGA!!” “My bad” Sean says throwing his hands up 

“FFFUUUCK! Round all them niggas up now” 

Leon puts his hand up “Now hold on its 2am we ain't bout to be meeting without cops spotting us”

“SHIT!”

“Look lets come up with a solution to figure out who them niggas are we start rounding people up they might start snitching even more” Leon strategizes 

Franklin nodded in agreeance “We gonna act like shit aint happen and take them niggas out one by one!” 

Jerome nods “Yea I like that plan!” 

Franklin sighs and sits down releasing the tension in his body

“We got a plan nephew unless you got something better?”

“No I don't.” 

Its silent for awhile with the 3 men (Jerome, Sean, Leon) talking to each other catching up on what they heard or whats going with their product

“Nigga what wrong withchu we have a solution” 

Franklin waves him off “Not now Unc,I’m trying to figure out how to fix this shit with Y/N” 

“Oh shit,” Leon comments forgetting that you were involved 

“Yea nigga, Y/N! they told Y/N!” 

“HA-HA you losing your mind over this girl boy! Now you know niggas talk worse than bitches sometimes. Gossipping mothafuckas”

“NOT NOW UNC” Leon shrugs “just go get another bitch, she aint the only fine girl that we know”

Franklin shot him an incredulous look “I don't want another bitch Leon I want that one!” 

“She not special her stuck up ass I bet if you called Tasha now she’ll literally hop the fuck out her bed and come fuck you” Leon wasn’t really a big fan of you, he thought that you acted too good

“I dont want Tasha, I want Y/N and that thing was a fucking mistake i told you that” “Hell no don’t call that crazy girl up here! Her bat shit ass bout got herself killed trying to sneak in my damn house talking about she just wanna see Frankie”  Louie comments 

Jerome chortles “BOY YOU HAD THAT GIRL GOING CRAZY BOUT LOST HER FUCKIN’ MIND. DICK HAD HER STUCK NEPHEW!!” he blares out a laugh 

Leon, Sean, and Louie join in on the laugh

Franklin ran his hands down his face “We gotta find them or this shit is not gonna last. If they can go run and tell Y/N what else are they doing? Product been going missing lets start there whoever them mothafuckas are they fuckin’ dead!” he grumbled. 

Authors Note: Feedback is much appreciated. Please reblog, comment, and like just don't plagiarize

[distant--shadow]

The witch and the widow chapters 1-4 author’s notes

Ok, so first off I feel I gotta preface this by saying I am absolutely not a history buff. Kinda the opposite of one really. I was one of less than 10% of the kids in my year of 300 or so that didn’t take history at GCSEs, mostly caus a subject taught and based around names and dates etc is the definition of something not suited for my type of brain, also I hugely lost interest in it caus we moved past the fun trebuchet eras and all that real fast and it became of slog of me falling asleep in lessons caus I had a teacher whose method was putting on movies and shutting the blinds (I’d always fall asleep and he was later jailed for being a p*edophile, so that’s a thing.) Anyway, all that to say I’m not good at this shit, but as ive gotten older I have taken a bigger interest in queer history in particular, and that often if not always links into other areas such as fashion, women’s rights, religion,the arts, class, and race etc. (I’m still not good at names and dates though!)

They are outfitted and arsenalled - the stones of the wall - in a manner to rival any army; tapestries of red and gold perhaps once brandished on battlefield as banners promenading around death now retired and indoor-still-air-still as taxidermy giving colour between all of the shades of metal, burnished and polished and in some cases rusting, some still purposefully left blood-stained, swords and pikes and maces arranged in wallpaper patterns as though flowers or fans, sword-sheath beams spreading from chest-plate armour suns.

Let’s start with something easy and recent. The Baron’s armoury was inspired by a few castles I’ve visited, these rooms are always so bizarre to me. I don’t know if this is at all of the time/how they were decorated or a more recent thing, but either way it’s pretty wild but I do love the visual and metaphor of it. In this one castle I found out from talking about the carpentry to an attendant that the decorative ceiling work around the chandelier above the dining room table actually hid a trapdoor - and there was other hidden doorways for passages and to secret rooms in this castle, that’s not that unusual - but this particular trapdoor was to allow for the chandeliers to be switched out. Why? Caus they had them in multiple colours of glass, and the lady of the castle liked the chandelier to co-ordinate with her dress if they were having guests round. Aint that such a flex? Definitely some food for future thought.

Aight. Clothing. So anyone that chats fic/au to me or is in my server has probably heard me yell to go watch Kaz Rowe’s videos many times. As I’ve said this fic aint meant to be historically accurate but it does kinda straddle histories, one of which being our own; so women wearing trousers and the like at this time would still be a crime, and draw a lot of attention . Imogen in men’s clothing genuinely isn’t meant to be much of a gender thing but a thing of practicality, and she has mostly lived in the countryside or in the outskirts, so she does not get into the trouble she would should she go into the towns and cities (another reason to keep away past the potential noise, but this Imogen will happily don a dress or skirts if she needs to, she’s just usually working – and maybe it’s a bonus that dressing as a man acts as a sort of flagging for any women who might be interested lol.)

I guess here I should mention how I think this version of Imogen's powers and how they’ve manifested (along with everyone else being unaware of them) will have somewhat changed her disposition and personality, it is a lot more aligned with later campaign Imogen who has more confidence and empowerment, she hasn’t been ostracised for her abilities or particularly bombarded by them, think more like when she has her circlet on, she chooses to listen in (mostly), although of course she has still heard many terrible things (and her life has still been pretty brutal but that’s to be written still).

(it’ll be really fun in this regard getting to explore and explain this version of Laudna, but early days for giving much away on that yet!)

Her skirts are full and structured and plumed by many layers of petticoats that hide the movement of her feet across the wildflower lawn, causing her to appear to be drifting like the bees do from petal to petal, pollen dusting her pleats though ghostly her skin in contrast to the fine fabrics that she dresses for the part, black in mourning, still, bodice tight and sleeve leg of mutton, an ornate decorative layer of black lace laying over each yard of textured textile like spider webs on porcelain patterns, her husband's tableware collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard.

real impractical for how tending towards practical the Lady dares to be, hands on, too busy for errant hairs in piano key ivory and ebony windswept and loose from the high bun she pins in place with a cameo broach, a memento mori engraved in silver and inlayed with ruby eyes and tied with red ribbons. Her skin also proudly displays the age and perhaps trauma that her hair does, lines from laughter and furrowed brows and the feet of the crows that cry from the top of the chimney pots

A little note as to say that Laudna’s appearance is heavily influenced by Victorian mourning wear, with some of the clothes cuts altered to be a little bit more regency and earlier in places. (her  attire is a little outdated, further suggesting her distancing from society and fashion)

A couple of days ago Imogen happened upon a bird with an injured wing, crying helplessly and rolling in circles, feathers taking flight away from the bird that could not, settling around it as it panicked itself bald-

The bird could not live without the use of its wing, and it didn’t, whether that was by Prosciutto or a fox, only its feathers were left in a pile.

Imogen had gathered them into an empty burlap sack; taken them to one of the maids downstairs to clean, repurpose them for filling pillows.

Here’s a silly little easter egg for my p(r)oof reader. Last time he visited we was enjoying a cinnamon roll from the local bakery by the city river (as you do) and a cyclist hit a seagull. It was real distressing, the seagull was distressed too. A handfull of middle aged women stood around it not wanting or knowing how to intervene as its wing was twisted at a crazy angle and it flapped about in a pile of its own feathers, there’s still bird flu about so it is wise to not touch wild birds, and as bleak as it is I was saying to freshy that a wild bird who’s wings broken like that is gonna die, and probably slowly and painfully. Some man came along and lifted up the bird to take the bird off the path and laid it to rest behind an old bridge building, I think he must have mercy killed it too as the bird was already dead when we walked past 10 or so minutes later after finishing our cinnamon roll and giving a cautious glance. So there’s a nice happy memory thrown in there for him.

what appears to be driftwood breaches the surface, then another point, then another

the water belches

Ceviche scares, whinnying as he rears onto his back legs, the Lady leaning forward and clinging to his harness. Imogen stands in her stirrups, leaning across the gap over to the black stallion, grasping his reins and cooing

“All good, boy, all good-”

What had appeared to be driftwood lands on the surface with a slap, looking like the carcass of an old boat left to rot in the muddy bed of a dock, timber ribcaged and leathered skin cladding.

A femur surfaces, followed by a jaw.

Second easter egg for the p(r)oof is a quick one (I’m such a considerate writer, I know.) On a train ride to a loch we went to for a day out there is a stop that is on another lake/body of water, and right by the train tracks (which are at water height) there are 4 or 5 old ships stuck in the mud, most of them just the frames/structures of the old boats, mostly wood and some bits of metal, but they’re pretty big boats! It really looks like whale carcasses. I’ve always wanted to get of there and check it out, and we were gonna stop by on the way back but my health being what it is was giving me some grief that day so we missed 2 trains and then soon the daylight, so hopefully next time buddy.

There’s alotta meat and gore talk and Imogen being a vegetarian without the label for such is just another way of me playing round with all of her complex feelings about what the Lady might be doing, her feelings towards Angharad butchering and nourishing the women with these communal stews and all of that. I’ve been vegetarian myself for 20 years now, and it was all triggered by an existential crisis in my mid teens (still a huge fan of leather and blood though) – Imogen greatly cares about animals, struggles with the thought of anything being slaughtered, she is in some ways more empathetic than most because she knows those she does on so much more of a personal level, really feels how someone is reacting to a situation they are in, but also because of this she knows humans are often corrupt and vile and she is spared such thoughts from animals, only knows their instincts and the love and comfort and service they bring – and yet she will obsess over the Lady’s (potential) tooling on that saddlework leather that’s really fucking brutal if she thinks about it one way and beautiful if she thinks about it another hmmm what if everything’s not black and white.

Oh, and the stew is a homage to @picturesofthegoneworlds’ pre-campaign fic Intertwined which I am lucky enough to co-parent and her writing is hugely influential on mine.

There’s a few things being bread crumb trailed here that I can’t explain in the author notes yet, but I’m looking forward to when I can. One small detail I will give away is just a silly thing about the chapter headings. They are something of significance from within the chapter, given in its ‘proper’ name – maybe someone gets access to some books to do research at some point?

anyways, thanks @astoriacolumnstaircase for enabling me. will do another post like this for future chapters if folks find it interesting.

[thesevnthseal]

INTRODUCING...ADELAIDE!READER

🍒 Southern Cherry: Adelaide Baker is about as sweet as they come she cares a whole lot about her appearance to impress the boys around her and she is always dressed in the cutest vintage dresses and tops. While most of the girls from her area are prissy and stuck up that aint her, she grew up with two older brothers, riding horses and taking care of the family ranch. Her signature color is of course cherry red and her nicknames include Laidey or Addy both given by her brothers

🍑 Georgia Peach: She's from Georgia because well of course she is, she's from the rural Appalachian mountains, and she will kick you if you say it wrong. She has the sweetest southern accent you've ever done here but lordy is it hard to understand sometimes

🍯 Honey Bee: While she may be sweeter than honey she's not afraid to sting. She is an absolute potty mouth and she will let you know. she is not afraid to kick a mans ass for not treatin her right because her daddy raised her well and boy she knows how to fight. she 100% has a concealed carry license and its always tucked in to her stockings under her dress or in her little purse.

🍏 Apple Pie: Her family was a typical southern family with a ranch some may say the 'Apple pie life' (hehe). She grew up with two older brothers, her momma and her daddy. She was in charge of the animals while her brothers did the heavy lifting. Her favorite horse's name growing up was Dolly, She and Dolly used to do competitive barrel racing before Dolly became to old and was retired, now she rides dolly casually through the trails.

🫐 Blueberry Blues : Her favorites are the Blues, Rock'n Roll, and Country. That was all the music her daddy and brothers listened to while she was growing up so it morphed into her taste but she's is known to enjoy a little pop.

🍇 Sour grapes: Laidey is well known to hold grudges for a long time, if you do something wrong towards her you can tell becuase she will not talk to you for days and when she does there is a lot of passive aggression and snarky comments. she is never the first one to apologize even if it's her fault, but don't blame her, blame her brothers.

🍭 Candy Swirl: Addy is a swirl of personalities and hobbies, if you ask her if she likes something or has done it she will usually always say yes, and on most occasions it's one of her favorites. But she does have a top five hobbies which include; Horseback riding, hunting/fishing, baking, singing, and gardening. She is a friendly gal to all who are nice to her and absolutely adores making friends. she also tends to adopt little bits of her friend's personalities like sayings or little mannerisms

Adelaide's Summary: 5'3". wavy hair brunette with curtain bangs. big blue eyes. Americana southern gal. soft almost baby face. pouty lips. Hourglass figure with undercover muscles. Gun carrier. sweet but salty. Came to camp for new friends besides her brothers. Wears a sliver cross necklace most of the time. Gets away with things because why would her sweet self ever do something like that? nails are painted red always. expects all men to be gentlemen.

Adelaides Additions🍒:

Coming soon...

7 Yaps:.. Say hello to Adelaide hehe, she is my little addition to Camp Daylighted and it was so fun to think of her personality, A lot of it is my own but I drew some aspects from my family in the south!

Credits to @daylighted for creating this amazing universe for us to dabble in, im so excited!!!!

Divider credits to @sister-lucifer!!

[jess-fae]

MERMAID AU

Note; this is my first time writing fanfic on here so pls if smth is wrong tell me cus i want to improve i maybe wanna write this out one day but i aint promising it

Excuse the horrible britsh accent

Summary; Hobie is a pirate captured by the British navy and one day Y/N a mermaid finds him

Trigger warning; violence, thoughts of death and angst lost of it

✦ Hobie Brown one of the most known pirates in the Seven Seas was captured by the British navy not too long ago for piracy

✦ after they sunk his ship they chained him to the small wooden boat swimming beside the lieutenant's ship

✦were he stayed trying to plan his great escape, yet unbeknownst to Hobie he had caught a mermaid's attention by playing his guitar every night

✦ sure the lieutenant had many men go down there and try to take the guitar from him but they all failed

✦ so Hobie kept playing every night stealing his sleep

✦and every night the mermaid would watch him from afar; you would have eaten the man long ago usually, he was easy prey after all, all men were with your siren song

✦but you didn't know something about him that didn't sit right with you, maybe it was his never-ending rebellion against the bad man's doing

✦or maybe it really was just the enchanting way he played the guitar with

✦You didn't know but you watched him for hours at a time carefully in the comfort of the darkness so no one could see you

✦That was at the least till a bigger wave hit the small boat he had stayed on and Hobie dropped his guitar into the cold ocean

✦fear lay over him as he desperately tried to get his beloved guitar back but the chains on his legs held him tight

✦Don't do it you had told yourself, interacting with humans could end badly especially when helping them

✦ but you didn't listen, instead you swam after the guitar which was way below the water now, and brought it back up

✦that when your eyes meet with his for the first time

✦Now Hobie wasn't an idiot, every pirate knew to stay away from the merfolk but you held the thing he cared for with the most

✦you saw his hesitation and laid the guitar inside the boat before backing off a little

✦eyes never leaving his, you noticed the change within them, you noticed the fear

✦you looked down at the instrument and back up at his eyes, you wanted him to play again

✦meanwhile the pirate had thought these were his last moments on this earth

✦the pirate who was always so sure that he would escape death, was now fearing it

✦Yet he wondered why the mermaid in front of him hadn't ripped him apart and eaten his heart

✦ following your eyes he found what they looked at, "Ya wan' me to play?" the mermaid nodded

✦and he did so, maybe he earned your grace? it was strange after growing up with stories where merfolk was such a cruel folk

✦ for the next nights this would repeat, after some performances, you would bring him shiny seashells and other trinkets you would at the bottom of the ocean

✦however horror had laid over you when you realised why you enjoyed the pirate company so much

✦it was no longer just his songs and melodies, the charm that Hobie had used on countless variants of people had worked on you

✦ the small touches he had allowed himself to after realizing you wouldn't bite his hand off and his glamouring words had cast a spell on you

✦ so much that you became more careless and aware of the dangers caused by others than him

✦so one night you had climbed into the wooden boat again, listing to him ramble about one of his many stories where he ruined the navy plans

✦"If ya wan' to eat me go ahead dove, I've been unda ya spell for long" his hand rested on your cheek watching as his thumb carefully stroked over your cheek

✦ yet there was no spell made from your voice, you didn't even dare use it in fear it might cut him

✦hobies eyes watched as his thumb traced your lips, only shortly connecting with your eyes before they also mimicked his

✦you wondered what he would taste like, not his blood or flesh but the way humans taste each other

✦the distance between the two of you became unacceptable far apart

✦so unacceptable that you decided to close it, not caring about the million reasons to not kiss a human out of love

✦but by the sea it felt so good, like waves crashing against each other

✦air became irrelevant, only needing this feeling to survive

✦"I think I am in love with ya, dove." Hobie said resting his forehead against yours

✦Turning at the same time a seaman walked along the deck of the ship hearing the pirate's voice, he laughed thinking Hobie had gone completely insane

✦so he looked over the edge to have his jaw falling to the bottom of the sea

✦going to wake the captain to tell him about the mermaid

✦they wasted no time to capture the unexpecting creature

✦a net was thrown over the edge and the small wooden boat was pulled up

✦fear washed over you, as you and Hobie tried to get rid of the net so you could disappear into the depths of the ocean but you failed and you landed on the deck of the ship

✦cloth was wrapped around your mouth, arms were tied together and dragged away from Hobie

✦inside the small cabin you heard the captain's cold voice speak "You ever heard the stories of mermaids being turned human?" his toothy grin scared you

✦as he lifted a blade "I always wanted to know if they were true, how about we find out." he threatened as he cut your beautiful tail apart

...

✦days later you woke up again hoping for it all to be a bad dream but as you looked down you saw that your once powerful mermaid tail and fins were now legs with feet attached to them

✦a shrill scream came rushing out of your lungs as you gripped and scratched your legs, hot tears falling down your face

✦ Regret came over you, you should have never come close to that human... but it wasn't his fault

✦The next days passed by, filled with pain and hate. The captain came inside to look at his creation ignoring the horror he caused

✦you didn't feel the same anymore, just a week ago you were feeling such bliss such love but now...

✦you couldn't feel anymore, you listened to the waves crashing against the ship hoping a storm would rip it apart and drown everyone on board

✦the captain no longer cared and you walked along the boat looking for one person only

✦you tightly held the stolen dagger close as you tried to find your way down to Hobie

✦down in the small wooden boat where everything began you hoped Hobie would understand what you were about to ask for

✦the pirate was happy to see you alive, especially after that tormenting scream that could have only come from you days ago

✦ neither of you said anything, you didn't even know how to start this, to begin with

✦"Do you know why Mermaids aren't meant to be turned into humans?" you whispered as you looked at the small waves

✦" 'cus it is cruel?" he answered ignoring how beautifully your voice was, no wonder you never spoke when you were a mermaid you would have enchanted him eminently

✦silence laid over the two of you again before you spoke "Hobie, I- I can feel this mortal body rotting."

✦salty tears came rushing over you again, was this the price you had to pay for falling in love with him?

✦Hobie was shocked and didn't know how to react so he just held you

✦you clenched the dagger harder before sitting up and holding it out to Hobie

✦ "I want you to kill me, I cannot live this life." you looked into his eyes once you would have felt such love but now you felt nothing

✦and even if wouldn't turn into seafoam like you sisters, this would be the only way to end this tragedy humans called life

Note: now don't worry I am working on part two where there will be a happy ending, I just don't wanna make this too long. <3

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

The Italian Beast's beauty-20

The fallout part 2-the bad guy

Luca feels over protected and makes Charlotte cry.

"Luca? Where are you?" Fredrico, Matteo and I groaned as my little bride's lovely voice floated down the hall to my office.  No space was safe from Charlotte since I'd gotten out of the hospital. She was hunting me down again. For a woman who was trying to keep my stress down, she was certainly the cause of half of it. 

My mom had tried to take her out yesterday to shop for the baby and nursery. I got my work done but at the end of the day, and I admit I wasn't fast enough to get up when I heard her come home, I'd wanted to be outside the office and lock it but she was faster, even heavily pregnant. She'd barged in, seen the papers and of course her eyes fell on the intel on Capone. 

Of course I got a scolding to make an Italian nonna proud. 

"Hide the papers in the folders, place them under your arms. Watch her, she's quick." I instructed them just in time. My voice was soft but deep. I couldn't risk her getting on me again about my heart. I actually was starting to feel like an old man around her. My mortality was setting in. 

She wasn't listening to anything I was saying. I had to keep her stress down for the baby's sake and keep my heart healthy. Charlotte seemed hell bent on it being one or the other.

"You need to take a break." She scolded before her full body showed the frame of the door. I waved my hand over my desk top  before patting it down harshly. 

She came in like a spring storm swirling papers around her while she snooped around. 

"Get out, I need to have a chat with Mrs. Changretta." He growled out. My men smirked and nodded. They greeted her, by dipping their heads as they walked out of my office. Federico sweeping a glance over her.  

"Sit down Charlotte.'' I pointed to the chair across the desk. She was on high alert now. 

"When you ask nicely, I will." her british accent made it sound nice, I knew better. She's fighting me on purpose. I was far from being in the mood. 

"Sit down." I could feel the gravel in my throat welling up.  She got the hint and sat down slinking into the office chair across from me. 

"Mind your heart Caro." She reminded me gently. I took in a deep breath feeling my lungs ache. It was trying to will my anger out with my breathing. It aint working. 

"Charlotte, you aint helping my heart lately. I know you care, but tone it down. It's becoming a joke among the boys." I could feel myself grinding my teeth thinking about my wife being the center of attention for the wrong reasons. Soe had even joked that she must take command in the bedroom because I was whipped. I didn't find it funny, neither had Mateo when I'd jammed my letter opened into his throat. I hadn't drawn blood. I bet he wished I had though. 

"I just." I raised my hand hoping she'd stop. Gratefully she did. She was a fantastic wife, hell, she'd saved my life. How many wives did that? 

"I know you care, behind closed doors eh, not during business hours." I cursed when I watched the tears well up in those large grey doe eyes. I was trying to not make her cry. I had to remind myself she was pregnant, young and scared for me. 

"I'm just trying to keep you from…dying because I love you and…I'm protective…" She was hiccuping now and the tears fell freely down her lovely heart shaped chin. Fuck.

"Come on, go get dressed, I'll take you out for dinner." Maybe a change of pace would help us both. I hated feeling like the bad guy.

[endykelopaedia]

I didn't say gender works separately from race, just differently. As I said, a White person is always White and a PoC is always a PoC, and that's a binary under White supremacy. People hate trans women and trans men for the same reason, they're doing the same thing, i.e. rejecting their AGAB. The cishetpatriarchy thus does not extend anything like the same benefits to trans men because of that. You being a man is therefore not equivalent to me being White. That doesn't preclude race and gender interacting.

NGL, I feel like it was a bit generous of me to apologize for saying something I believe is racist is racist just because the person who said it turned out to not be White. Like you can say it was "only" about male privilege but you were in fact mocking people who bring up their other marginalizations in this discussion. And the reason I bring up that as being generous is because I have to wonder if there's a contrast between that and me being called a transmisogynistic crypto-TERF by a trans man. Like maybe I shouldn't have apologized and it is actually okay to do that? You still seem really offended by it but I don't see why you would if it's valid to make accusations like that. Is it less valid to, without even intending to, accuse a Black person of enacting racism than it is to intentionally accuse a trans woman of enacting transmisogyny? Not even just "enacting transmisogyny," specifically calling me TERF-y and insinuating the words I use for myself make me less of a trans woman, or less a victim of transmisogyny.

I'm also annoyed that you seem pretty intent on taking what I say about the cishetpatriarchal view as being what I believe, which is a really common tactic I see around here usually about how non-transfems discussing being seen as their AGAB is essentially the same as misgendering trans women.

I guess maybe mentally revise my first ask to having just said "I didn't know you were Black and do not particularly care, I deleted it for other reasons."

to be clear; when i said "only a white woman could think white privilege and gendered oppression are completely separate" i meant that only a white woman could think that white supremacy and patriarchy are somehow any more separate than cisgender supremacy and patriarchy. theres nothing about your logic that another white queer couldnt use to say they dont really have white privilege (which ive noticed a lot of people in your movement TEND TO DO) the same way you insist us trans men cant really have male privilege.

but again. i dont think you really believe that theyre not deeply connected anyway. bc why would you then invoke the existence of black trans men unprompted? and it was unprompted. my post didnt bring up black people in any capacity. it was about male privilege. and how men use their other oppressions to pretend they dont have it. which i mocked them for. bc that's stupid.

idk what a crypto-TERF is or what thought terminating cliché it provides for you but im gonna be very clear that you saying "Nonono, I fully believe that youre a man i just dont think wider society ever will or treat you like one, and i base my politics off of this" is not somehow a better or more-supportive-than-TERFS position to have.

i dont really care for your apologies because i know they ring hollow. if you still believe what i said was racist against again, MYSELF. you really only were being deferential to my blackness and you havent actually listened to me. a lot of white people like to pretend theyve done such a good job at protecting black people by invoking us to argue with other white people (like you assumed i was) as "activism" and you are nooooo different. you say you dont care that im black but your "actions" (arguments on the internet) dont reflect that.

i will apologise for one thing though, i never meant to imply that you were somehow less of a woman or don't experience transmisogyny for how you identify. fucked up of me. and the fact i aint a he/him female isnt relevant to that.

really, what i shouldve said is that i know that you've self admitted to being isolated from a lot of other transfems who talk about transmisogyny on here specifically bc of your beliefs. and youre also quite infamous for it. which doesnt mean you dont have a valuable thought in that head of yours but it does mean i'm more inclined to listen to women who arent you on the subject.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - February 18

outed anon, genderqueer anon (new), hijab anon (new), panromantic anon, intrusive thoughts anon

Outed Anon

Hello Cas this is outed anon (again lol i keep comming back)

This isn't really a vent post im just frustrated about smth and need to let it out lol

So in my country you cant have a private chat with a teacher. This law is ok but it also doesnt allow contact through librus (an official side with grades and shit i have no idea if yall have it in america im sorry) if its not on the weekdays.

Now im in the drama club and this is my first year attending so im one for younger people there ("first time in drama club, kinda nervous"). Unfortunatelly everyone is pretty lazy and im one of the people that do things when nobody wants to do so. Its annoying af but im living.

Now there is an art festival and the teacher who is in the club wanted to participate. She asked who could sign us in and do the 'paper work' (answer emails, calls, write them and keep an eye on deadlines). The crowd was silent so i said i could do it. Turned out people offered NO HELP. When i asked things i needed from them to sign us in (their full name and age) i was left on READ and they only answered when the teaher asked them to. Im on my last fay of the winter break and i just got an email from the festival that we unfortunatelly didn't got in because we didn't choose a date they will watch us play. I ASKED THE GRUP CHAT TO CHOOSE DATES. no answer. They had the CONTACT WITH THE TEACHER (her phone number i think) and they had no problems in asking her to choose. In act of desperation i wrote her an email on librus asking to please choose the date because noone is helping and im not going to choose a date because they will be like "oh but i cant why did you chose this" "but i have a doctor i cant goo". Now I have to go there, say we didn't got in, listen to them whine how they wpuld do it better (no one wanted to do it) and that now we need to way a year to participate again. I cant i have one of the lead roles and im thinking about droping this shit because im reciving no help, its my first year in thi fucking school, im not that liked in class, i have to deal with people older th3n me WHINE into my ear how they dont think im doing the right thing. I Just CANT.

Thankfully my friend who is also in the drama club said she will take over my role if anything goes the wrong way (thank gods for her kind soul) so i dont have to worry about the hole in the cast left after i leave.

I also got a shitty role so i aint doing that

Yeah thats all as i said its not really a vent im just angry lol

Hi <3

Honestly it sounds like this is the fault of the other students in the club- not you or the teacher. And now they get the consequence- nobody gets to go to the festival. I'm so sorry nobody was supportive, but if people give you shit, I'd just nicely be like "yeah, I wish more people replied to my messages" and leave it at that. You have a right to be angry, imo.

_________________

Genderqueer anon

Hi cassss!!!

I’ve been wondering about this for a while now. Am I transphobic?

For context, I'm genderqueer. That's because I always had weird feelings about gender but not enough to be a trans man. I like people seeing me as masc and being confused about my gender, and genderqueer seemed appropriate.

I like girls. And everyone under the Enby umbrella. But I don't like dicks. Not at all.

I think trans women are women and trans men are men. I use people’s preferred pronouns (I mean we don't have gendered pronouns in my language, but I do it online). I don't like guys (not anyone who isn't fictional anyway) and I like trans girls CUZ THEY ARE FUCKING GIRLS. I believe that trans women (and enbies alike) deserve to be in sapphic and lesbian spaces and communities

But I wouldn't want to have sex with an amab trans individual who didn't have bottom surgery. Because I don't like dicks. Not specifically penetrative sex, just anything to do with a penis.

And there is a chance that I can be aegosexual anyway. In that case, it might not even matter. I’ll figure that out much later.

The last thing I want to be is a transphobe. My internal homophobia went away on its own, but I had to dismantle both my internal and external transphobia manually, and I really fucking hate transphobes.

I know most trans people don't care about what an individual thinks, and there aren't trans folks flooding the gates to be in a relationship with me, but I feel guilty about my exclusionism

Nope, this is not transphobic! If you said you didn't want to be with a trans woman because you think they're not a woman, then that would be transphobic. But not liking dicks is just a preference, and that's completely fine. You're allowed to like what you like and dislike what you dislike!

_________________________

Hijab Anon

Hi!

I’m not sure if you would be able to give me advice but I’m gonna ask anyway bcs maybe you could lol

So I’m in Highschool and I live with my parents.

My parents are super religious Muslims and I’m also Muslim I was raised Muslim and I also wear the hijab and my problem is that I’m also bisexual and I’ve come to terms with that and I’m happy with my label but my parents are very homophobic at some point a few years ago they found out I’m bi and completely pulled me out of school and made me cut off all contact with my old friends and I was so scared and lost for a long time. We’re in a better place now with them thinking I’ve “healed” and I’m straight now.

And I just don’t know what to do I love my parents so much and I don’t want to cut off contact when I get to university bcs that means I won’t only lose them I’ll lose my siblings too (who also share my parents beliefs) and my parents are meant to pay for my university when I get there and I’m scared to risk that too.

I also don’t have any friends to talk to about this due to being put into a Islamic school after everything that went down before and I can’t risk coming out to my friends and seeing if they would support me.

I really don’t know what to do and sometimes that feels really scary

-🧕

Hi! First of all, if the anon name is offensive, lmk. I was just trying to pick something so you knew it was you!

I can definitely understand why this feels scary. It must feel really alienating and lonely.

I think my best advice is to focus on what's best for YOU. Not your parents or your siblings or anyone else. What will make you happiest and safest?

It might be that for now, you stay quiet and wait until you go to school. Let you parents pay and wait it out. I know you're nervous that you'll be the only one there who's queer, but I promise that you won't be. The good and bad thing is, you're not the only one who's forced to stay quiet about this. You can start to quietly build a support system and slowly find your own way when you feel ready.

Or maybe you feel like you need to do something now. In that case, you need to look up options for people your age who are on their own.

Or maybe for you, it's worth it to stay quiet for a long time, because you want the peace and safety your family can bring you. That's okay, too!

Whatever you prefer is understandable and it's a very personal decision. My advice is to try to build a support system (carefully) no matter what, and if you DO decide to make a move, have a plan first.

Sending love <3

__________________________

Pan romantic anon

Pan romantic anon here, had lunch together on valentine's day (it was cookies and cake and coffee) she bought my cake, I made her heart shaped cookies. We talked and hung out as always. The day after that we meet up with the rest of the group, talked and had dinner together in one of my other friend's house. We talked about classic things, talked about love life, acedemics etc. how she was happy being single, how she would prefer staying that way in our exam year. I mean, me too, because it's distracting to have a boyfriend. But like. It hurts a little you know? Just a little. I proitize my career too, I would rather to study rather than dates too. But I still wish we could do study dates, we could cuddle at night, we could kiss and all, don't have to give too much time, just being together. Hell, I don't even ask for dating at this point, I just wish I could somehow get her like me. That's it. I just want that, really. But oh, how I hate it when all the girls describe their perfect guy and I know a girl or anything else doesn't even cross her mind, not because she is straight, but because we live in this hell where it's expected. And I, I feel like dying. Oh how I wish she liked me. Oh how I wish when the day ended and she kissed my cheek, when she said 'i enjoyed today!' it meant romantic.

Not even that, you know? Even if it's plotonic I would want to be close to her. She color codes the things she loves. In her calendar, some of her friends are pink, the best friends of her, the ones she loves, actually loves, the ones she knows for years, the ones she is planning to live with, plotonically but still her first choice.

And I am purple, and I know I am not close to her that much. But I feel so bad. I wish she could chose me like I would. Not even romantic, just want to be in top 5. It sucks to see your number one puts you in number 10 or more maybe.

And like, I know it's not fair. I know she doesn't have to. But she lays on me (literally, on our desk, lays back on me, on my chest while I am holding her, how am I supposed to breath in this situation, I have anxiety god.) she kiss my cheek and I know it's plotonic especially considering where we live but like, I think I am gonna die.

Hi <3

I'm so sorry that you're feeling this way. I still think there's a chance she feels something deeper for you than she's letting on, but I also know that I don't know your culture or friendship, so I don't want to over-hype you up, either. I know it's heartbreaking to feel something for someone who probably doesn't feel the same way back, and not much I say is going to help with that, but I want to remind you that it's not you. There's a lot of factors here, and it sounds like she really does care about you as a friend.

I'm sending you love <3

__________________

Intrusive thoughts anon

hi, its intrusive thoughts anon.

firstly, how have you been? how was your valentine's, did you do anything fun? (i didnt even know it was valentine's day until like hlfway thru the day lmao)

its nothing for me this time, just. my friends goung through shit rn, and literally nobody in her family sees it. even her sister (whos my bsf) insists thst shes perfectly fine. but i know that she isnt because shes let it slip a few times, and i try to help her as much as i can but the issue is that i see so much of my young self in her that i want to stop her from continuing down the oath which led me here but at the same time i have no way to confort her?

she says that she knows she has to stidy but its like her brain is broken and she cant do anythinf, despite knowng that she should. my bsf and her entire family insistently shit on her for being on her phone and reading all day, but i think they forget that she uses it merely as a way to cope.

i dont know how to help, cant tell any authorisesd figure or her parnts or anything cz we simply do not live in that kind of society. i can offer nyself to help but idk how to do that eithef?

so this is me asking for your expertise, please help me help my friend. im so worried about her that i think about it day in and out.

tysm, cas.

Hi!

My Valentine's Day was good! I went to an Escape Room :D

Honestly, I think you should tell her exactly what you told me. That you see yourself in her, and you're here for her. Know that she might not take you up on your help, but don't stop reminding her you're here. Do things you would have wanted someone to do, you know? And just...be there. I know it doesn't feel like a lot but it can mean SO much to someone.

Sending you love! <3

[torialefay]

Thank you for saying what ive been thinking omfg.

Chris does everything he can. There's very few people in kpop that exudes the vibe that they love music and making music as much as he does. Being an idol is what he worked so hard to get and im pretty sure hes implied time and time again and even explicitly said that he wouldn't want to live if he couldnt be an artist (and that bleeds into shy he loves the kids so much, but thats veering off topic). Im just constantly baffled how many people want him to throw it all away (bc idk how harsh jype would punish him), you know, just tossing out his reason to live, to talk about the war. Yes, absolutely. There are so, so many people dying because of this war, and its truly horrifying, but how many people screaming at him are willing to do what they're demanding of him and the kids? I always see people talking numbers and statistics, but rarely do i ever see someone talk realism. There are plenty of people who could spend their time going out to find ways to help Palestine instead of going online to yell at 8 men who got famous for their music and anyone who supports them. Some of yall have never listened to "antivist" by bmth and it shows.

Yeah, Chris looked so tired in that recent clip and just in general tbh (same for the rest of the kids). Everytime i see a clip of Chris when he said "im going to protect every single one of you" or when hes being super flirty and trolling or recently when he said he cant fix all of their problems, i just think "this man is going through what i went through, just 5 years later than i did." I literally have done all that, but instead of to a massive fanbase, it was to my friends, lmao. Being fiercely protective and wanting your friends to feel comfortable enough to lean on you, especially since they've been so good to you, but its turned into exhaustion bc you met some people who took mad advantage of your love and now youve gotta set some boundaries and limits. Unfortunately, he's an idol, so setting hard boundaries can be difficult without someone saying he's too cold and uncaring with fans or something bc we know just how fair the media can be when it comes to Chris🙄 i aint know him personally and never will, but if my interpretation of those clips are true and if this trend continues, he'll hopefully find peace and a decent balance with mental health in about 5 years time🥲

i really REALLY hope so. i'm not gonna lie, it surprised me like a week or two ago when chris said on bubble: "i feel like my enfj is slowly becoming intj hahaha". literally going from what is supposed to be one of the most expressive & involved mbti's to one that is most associated with being less interactive and more reserved/cold when meeting people. i don't want to say intj's are hardened, i don't think it's like that. but maybe that they just have a harder shell. which makes me really sad. it makes me think he's getting so burnt out by being the one that's always there for everyone that he's slowly needing to draw back to himself.

i hope that whatever happens, he's becoming his most genuine self. but i also hope that he isn't turning one way or another simply because of what's been expected of him. he's so good to us & it hurts to think that he'd have to change bc of stays. but if it's not due to that, then i'm happy that he's doing what he needs to do & i hope he can feel okay with setting boundaries for himself 🫶🏼

[slashingdisneypasta]

Robber!Good Day For It Thugs x Cashier!Reader || Excerpts

Plot: I'm supposed to be finishing off a school project but I'm thinking about the Good Day For It thugs as robbers with a cashier!reader who falls for/really clicks with one of them and it kind of ends Bonnie & Clyde style. These are just quick tasters.

Warnings: Robbery setting, gun mentions, use of 'sweet girl' for reader in Norman's, that 'is that a gun or are you just happy to see me' in Wayne's, flirty reader in Dale's, etc.

Tagging: @marinerainbow and @slxsherwriter .

*Norman*

"Get the money outta the safe, and no one gets hurt. Don't try anything idiotic, we got guys outside just in case."

You glance at the other two inside the store, a shifty looking old man and a guy who looks like he'd steal your lunch money in highschool for smokes, then back at the leader.

Maybe its the way the other two scare you, or how handsome he is, but you trust him. You believe him; you wanna do anything he says to. Giving a nervous, eager nod, you turn and kneel down by the safe. He says something to his partners, something like 'keep watch', then comes up behind you so you can feel his presence directly above you. He speaks lowly so only you can hear. "Good choice, uh... "

"Y/N."

"Y/N. Thank you for not makin' this harder then its gotta be. Could've been a pain. This aint personal, I got nothin' against you, you seem like a sweet girl- its just work."

"Understood."

As the safe opens up under your hand, you release a relieved breath. He genuinely sounds happy with you. Well- at least not mad.

One thing sticks in your head as you pull cash out of the safe and shove it in the bag he holds open for you, now kneeling beside you.

Sweet girl.

*Wayne*

You cannot believe this is happening. You weren't even supposed to be here, today! But freaking Barbie just had to swap shifts with you today, and now you are here, and now- oh fuck, one of them is walking over.

Carefully, you shift backwards away from the bench that sits between you and the customers robbers; your eyes catching the shining metal tucked into the waistband of his pants when he pulls his jacket clear out of the way. "Dont do anything stupid, now. Listen carefully, and nobody here's gotta get hurt, huh?" Oh... fuck...

This is just fucking brilliant.

Before you can bite your tongue, venom coats it. You cant control it. "-Is that a gun, or are you just happy to see us?" Your boss gives you a pissed off, terrified look, but you ignore him completely.

The man, close to 60 if not past it, immediately grins a wicked grin; looking directly at you and your glare for the first time. "... actually, little bit a' both, thanks for asking."

For a moment you keep up eye contact, glaring, but before you know it a traitorous grin quirks at one corner of your mouth. Immediately, you look away and cross your arms. Can this robbery be over, already??

*Dale*

You always had such terrible taste in men- you were aware of that. It wasn't a secret, it was a problem; you just couldn't help it! And he was, just... so cute.

You never felt so comfortable being held at gun point, before.

"You," He starts, raising his brows at you and gesturing at you with the gun. "You get me the fucken money. Now."

Nodding quietly, you turn carefully in front of him (Hands raised above your head like he instructed, earlier), subtly (or not-so-subtly) straightening your body and arching your back a bit so your ass looks good. Turning your head to the side, you raise your brow at him; a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "'s that what you wanted?"

One of the other men chokes on a laugh, but your attention is on the younger one. He gives the other guy a glare, before returning his attention to you. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks. Now open the safe."

"Can I lower my arms?"

"Of course you can- "

"Well, you weren't clear." You shrug, kneeling down to the safe and stifling a giggle. So cute.

As you start to unlock the safe, the guy comes up behind you and kneels into a squat beside you; waiting anxiously for the safe to open up. Like this is his first robbery- like he's trying to make someone proud.

Hm... a baby criminal.

... at the last second, before you put in the last number, you stop and turn to him. "I just have one thing to say."

His eyes, blue and beautiful up this close, are filled with turmoil. Because he's trying to do his job- but you are making it unnecessarily frustrating. "What!??"

"The stuff in the display cabinet's a lot more valuable then the emergency cash in here. Don't forget that." You give a wink, then put in the last number and open up the safe.

A grin slips across his face at you and Oh, god. You know you're gonna ruin your whole life for this man.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Day four of @ailesswhumptober

Painful transformations/body modifications- “you’re a monster.”

all of my friends who know about historical fashion I am so tired and so eepy and wrote this in thirty minutes forgive me

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

Katherine didn't want to go to the party to begin with. It was being hosted by a friend of her father's, a rich man, a stern man who allegedly had a son around her age. Who was (allegedly) not only handsome, and rumoured to be kind. But who also liked red heads.

She was told it was a perfect match.

Katherine didn't agree. She also hadn't told Jack.

Realistically she didn't think she was going to need to. It had felt so far away when she had sat up with him on the fire escape last night, especially when she'd already long since decided that she'd work something out, some excuse that meant she wouldn't have to show face. Perhaps a sudden illness picked up from the lodge, or a 'womanly' problem that couldn't be helped.

But here she was, three hours before it was due to begin, sat on the plush stool in front of the mirror in her room, fire blazing behind her as her hair was twisted up into an uncomfortable bun atop her head.

She had to admit the dress she was directed to wear this evening was gorgeous, a new one that a handmaid had picked out for her, a green she knew suited her. But she didn't want to let herself enjoy it. Instead, stared at its reflection with resentment.

It made no difference, how she felt about it didn't seem to matter much, and she was half dressed already, in stockings and underwear and a loose corset that she knew was going to be tightened after they finished with her hair.

She winced as it was yanked on again, none too carefully. Usually, they were more gentle, she was friends with these women after all. They had certaintly looked after her more than her father ever had growing up, older women with plump faces though she wasn’t sure their exact ages, motherly, in a sense; but she knew she'd kicked up a fuss earlier, making their job more difficult. So, they weren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment.

"Right, that's your hair." It was short. "Lift your arms miss, so I can fix the corset proper."

She had to look good, her father had told her sternly, if she wanted to secure a prospective husband this evening; especially a good one, good men were hard to come by. He had told her that they were running out of good men that were willing to take her hand, but that good or bad he would be marrying her off eventually, that if she ended up with someone horrible, cruel, they'd be well suited; that maybe they'd be able to get her to listen in a way he had tried and failed to do over the years.

Katherine, with the backs of her eyes burning, had called him a monster.

Then he'd grabbed her arm as she tried to storm past him to the door and told her sharply to get upstairs. To get dressed. His tone was one she knew not to disobey.

The corset was pulled tight and done suddenly enough to make her wince, she could feel the expression as the strings were yanked on, and see it on her own face in the reflection. Then pulled tighter again. her waist shrank with the movement, the corset pushing her shoulders back and her chest out and her organs uncomfortably into her rib cage.

All at once a wave of revulsion, at the party, at the need to be perfect and dainty and to find a husband or be nothing, crashed over her.

She tried to inhale and she couldn't, the corset was only getting tighter- it was different from her daytime ones- one meant to accentuate and shrink and shape-

"I don't want to wear it-" her voice was shallow. childish, like she was twelve again and not eighteen. A young girl at her father's mercy and not a grown woman with a career, a life outside of parties and suitors.

"Katherine don't start complainin' again. We aint want to hear it-"

"But-"

Another aggressive yank that hurt, that felt like it flushed the air from her lungs. Her hands landed on her vanity to steady herself.

"That's a good girl."

"Please-"

"There's no need for this, you're gonna ruin your eyes."

She couldn't tell if the struggle to breathe was the corset or her own upset, if one was making the other worse. But her shallow inhales were emphasised with a sob that only made one of the other maids, the one that had been stoking the fire, come over and place a hand on her shoulder in some bastardisation of comfort. Her grip was strong and holding her still so the corset could be pulled in her further.

"We just want you to look good Katherine, settle down with a nice man, nothin' like the ones we got."

Her eyes burned. She couldn't breathe. Her hands gripped the edge of vanity so tight she could feel the indents forming in the heels of her palms.

"Exactly," the maid's callused, working hand rubbed her shoulder as the other behind her began to knot the cords at the base of her spine, a tidy bow she could tuck away. "Men like a good lookin' lady. A nice body. You'll be fine."

She couldn't-

"See.” The hands pulled away, a rough thumb swiped at stray tears under her eyes and tipped her chin up so she was looking in the mirror, looking at herself, disproportionate, in pain, lightheaded, waist far too small to be natural.

"Aren't you lookin' pretty, Miss Katherine."