#i had a tag here originally that wondered whether this is a healthy relationship to peopling

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

very happy to announce that the videocutting has filled the spot in my day that, so far, was pure boredom. im back to being busy as fuck!!!!!!!! i feel like i have so many hobbies and so many things to do, so that socializing and peopling is a Bonus i do when i Feel Like It, not to fill that empty spot!!!!!!!

[sunflower-ozzy-online]

Let Me Do It For You

Chapter 12

Unedited, You finally ask Halsin to put it in :}

Halsin /Reader

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic - Alpha/Omega - Omega Verse - Reader-Insert - Smut - Vaginal Fingering - Oral Sex - Aftercare - Vaginal sex

The day had continued similarly with Halsin making up for lost time with his hands and mouth always on your body, bringing you to your peak multiple times. Understanding it was not his rut you didn't expect him to be able to penetrate you everytime you needed to be satiated but you had fucked over four times already and he hadnt even taken off his underwear. He had taken off his outer wear to satisfy your need for skin contact when you had asked, which was greatly appreciated. You hadn't seen him take care of his own needs either. Alphas typically were not shy in announcing and dealing with their sexual desires. You wondered why he would keep his from you. He seemed very direct in every other aspect of your relationship. 

The enchantment on the door faded slightly as it opened allowing him back in the room. You made no attempt to cover your bare body as he approached the bed. 

“I got breakfast for you.” 

Being on your heat it was hard to hide your emotions from him. Undoubtedly he had noticed the sour tones in your scent you were unconsciously emitting. You loved his perceptiveness but you hadn't come to a conclusion on how to address your suspicions in a healthy way.  Your hands reached out to accept the tray he was holding, that assumedly was your based on the more sugary sweet contents compared to the other that was more protein based. Slowly he gave it to you taking note of whether you were stable enough to hold it on your own. Tentatively he stood near the bed, not yet sitting down. Your displeasure in his withholding must have been more noticeable than you had originally thought since he seemed to not want to enter your nest. His scent was a tad smokey, clearly uneasy with your own scents warnings. 

You scooched over and patted next to you on the bed area, inviting him in. Sighing in relief he sat down next to you focusing on his own breakfast. He had a lot of stamina but even he would be exhausted after taking care of you so many times. You leaned your head against his shoulder, drifting off into space, comforted by his scent that was noticeably closer to normal than earlier after your show of acceptance. 

“What's the weather like out there today?”

You had not been outside since the start of your heat. Your scent would be too much for some of the younger alphas in the grove, who had not yet gained control of their impulses. You understood but did not like that the restraint was placed on you and there were no accommodations in place. 

“A little cloudy with a nice breeze. The sun still peaks through the clouds. It is quite a beautiful sky. You would like it.” 

Nodding you imagined the grays and whites of the clouds. Moving almost imperceptibly slow in the winds. Providing shade for the creatures on the ground. How would the sailing conditions be today? Would the fish bite with the shady skies covering the water? You missed the smell of the water. Wet tears rolled down your face passively. Halsin rubs your back, giving you comfort. 

“What is on your mind dear.” 

“I feel so isolated here. I miss being out on the water. And you…..”

 you didn't want to make him feel forced into penetrating you but you didn't want to hide your feelings of undesirability due to him not engaging with you in that way. Outside of your heat you would be able to have a discussion about boundaries and needs with him with a level head. On your heat your emotions run wild with all of your thoughts.

“You've been so lovely and accommodating.” 

He noticed your pause. 

“There is something else?” he voiced his suspicions without putting them on you

Sighing and putting your face against his bicep and whining. 

“It’s silly.” 

“If it's making you feel such strong emotions, I doubt it is truly silly.” you can hear the slight grin on his face at your vulnerability. 

Removing your face from him you look him in the eyes and muster up your strength fighting you inner omegas need to be non-confrontational. 

“I haven't seen your penis.” 

He tries not to laugh, as it is obvious this has been bugging you. 

“I do not want to get carried away with you. At least not yet. This is our first time together with you on your heat, it is not about me.”

“I want you, all of you. If you will let me.”

“And you have all of me. I am not adverse to it.”

His lips softly touch the top of your head.

“It has been awhile since I have taken a partner outside of purely physical context. And even longer since I have done so during their heat or rut when I am not experiencing mine. I may not be able to perform the way you need me to.” 

Skipping over the confession that Halsin has been with another Alpha, which will come up in your fantasies later, you were comforted that he did want you in that way. 

“Don’t worry, you have taken care of me perfectly since yesterday. Plus I don't expect you to have the stamina of a rutting Alpha.”

“I wish I could satisfy you how you need, but i will try.” with this he leans down, tilting your chin up with his hand, and softly kisses you. 

Smiling into the kiss you softly whine when he pulls away, already worked up again after your early morning orgasm. 

“ I have to put the trays away, or else we will have an ant problem.” 

He does as he said he was going to and places them by the door, for easy access later. Wherever he moves to in the room your body turns, as if you were oppositely charged magnets. When he returns to the bed he crawls in towards you, resuming your kiss. He tastes familiar at this point, no longer new but still exciting. He takes his time, making sure you're comfortable while still being forceful. 

Somehow you were laying down, him over you. The kiss had made your mind foggy again, pussy wet and sensitive to the cool air.  You tenderly took his hand from your face and brought it to where you needed him most. His fingers repeating familiar, slow, teasing moves from earlier. It was sweet but thanks to your heat you were already worked up and you wanted him to go faster, rougher. 

“Don't be gentle. I need it rougher.” 

His head moved to your nipples, giving them nips. His hands increased speed and pressure. Now focusing on your clit, moving up and down in a frantic rhythm. You pressed your chest up into him, silently trying to urge him to continue. Finally he dips two fingers into you. The intrusion welcomed by your walls clenching down onto him. Thrusting and prodding you, giving you the sweet stimulation you so desperately craved. The friction against your upper walls makes you gasp and moan, letting out small ‘thank you’s as he continues his motions. Halsins head moves down, littering small kisses and bites down your body until he reaches your thighs. Pushing them apart slightly he moves his massive body between them, his hand stuttering slightly as he gets comfortable. 

Before he places his lips around your clit he forcefully bites the plush inside of your thigh. You gasp, opening your eyes to look at him in surprise. You weren't angry, his actions had not crossed a boundary, but it sent images of his teeth puncturing your neck straight into your mind. The currently forbidden action made you grow even wetter, your breath picked up and your moans reached a high pitch. He finally places his attention back on your clit, sensually licking it before harshly sucking. Sending a shockwave through your body and providing you with your first orgasm of the session. If you were not on your heat his actions would have had a lesser effect but alas here you were shaking and squirting your slick across his chin.

Unrelenting he doubled down his effort, speeding up his thrusts and curling his fingers. The lewd sounds from his mouth continued bringing you out of your haze. You looked down at him, noticing the movements of his hips against the bed. The sneaky bastard was getting himself off with the bed instead of you. Flattered that just eating you out was enough to get him so worked up, you wished he would use you instead. Pushed forward by the feeling of need in your tummy you reach down and grab his hair. 

You pulled him off of you, his eyes slightly unfocused until he brought his attention to your face. As he regained awareness his brow furled. 

“Are you okay?” voice filled with worry “Did I do something wrong?” eyes scanning over your form to check for injuries. He was on his knees, hands on your shoulders to steady each other. 

“I’m fine. I just have one request.” 

“Yes?”

“Will you use me instead of my nest to get yourself off?”

He looked away from you, almost bashfully. Embarrassed that you noticed his movements. Seeing such a large Alpha embarrassed because of you was turning you on a little. Continuing, being mindful of him, you started to take more control. 

Leaning up you lightly pushed against his chest, not enough to physically push him down but with enough force to get your message across. Following your lead he leans back, letting you crawl over him. You lower yourself so your lips are almost touching his ear.

“You can say no or tell me to stop anytime, Alpha.”, the last word almost teasing him. 

You kissed the tip of his long elven ear, something you have wanted to do since you noticed his sensitivity. Just as you had thought he slightly shivered. He nodded. 

You hovered over his groin, his dick still trapped beneath his pants and underwear. Halsins eyes follow your movements, slightly flitting between you and his own crotch in anticipation. Having a moment of clarity you decided not to grind on his pants and get them dirty with your slick. You opted instead for teasingly undoing their ties. Slowly yet deliberately you pulled them down along with his underwear, checking for any sign that he wanted you to stop. Instead his face was flush, pupils blown wide as he watched you slowly reveal his stiff cock from its confinements. 

When you pulled his pants all the way off of him you finally turned your focus to his penis. Based on how large he was his size should not have been surprising, yet you still found yourself in a state of disbelief. It wasn't so large that it was disproportionate to the rest of him, in fact it fit him quite well. The girth was a pleasant surprise though. It hung by his thigh, already pink and leaking precum. If your pussy was not aching for it, you may have taken in your mouth just to see what it was like. 

You climbed back up so you were hovering over his pulsing cock. Taking your hand you gave him a couple teasing strokes. His hips jerked up, sensitive from his earlier attempts to satiate himself with the bed. Removing your hand you began to grind on it, letting both of you receive pleasure without fully putting it in yet. The friction it provided sparked through your whole body, and no matter how much you wanted to tease him you knew you were too needy to go through with it, at least for now. 

Grinding for just a little while more he began to moan and groan in time with the gyration of your hips. His hips thrust up in an attempt to gain more friction, lifting you up with very little effort. Lifting your hips you remove yourself completely from him. His eyes snap open to try and see what you were doing.

“I’m in charge here, Alpha ” adding a hint of snark on his title. He smirks at you, giving in to your power. You grip him in one hand and spread yourself with the other, dragging his tip against your opening. 

“Do you want me to put it in?” You asked, looking down your nose at him. 

He nodded rapidly, “Yes.” the word escaped his mouth, he sounded breathless. 

“Yes what.” you teased, relishing in having control. 

His brow furrowed as his eyes flitted between your face and his cock. He was unsure what exactly you wanted him to say. He had been in situations similar to this before but for some reason the stakes had never felt so high. Though he knew you wouldn’t leave him for making a mistake so, he took a chance, 

“Yes please, my ravishing Omega. Please sink down onto me, you divine beauty.” he pleaded. 

“As you wish.” you barely gave him enough time to react before you sank down, engulfing him in one fluid movement. If it wasn't your heat it would have taken much more foreplay to take all of him, something you are looking forward to in the future. 

“By Sylvanuses grace.” He exclaimed, the air pushed from his lungs. 

You stayed still momentarily, savoring the feeling of him so deep inside you, before slowly rocking your hips. Quickly your plan to be more dominant was faltering as you whined and moaned above him. You abandoned your false indifference to his pleasure to chase your high. Halsin seemed perfectly satisfied to take back some of the responsibilities, thrusting up into you. Each thrust plunged deep into your core providing you with delicious sensations. 

“You are absolutely divine my sweet.” he reaches up to caress your face, you turn to nuzzle into it slightly biting his palm as you keep a steady pace rocking back and forth letting out pitiful whines. His other hand was placed on your hip, his thumb stroking lovingly against you, every once and awhile he would squeeze slightly, to ground himself. He was trying not to get too lost in his pleasure, he didn’t want to Wild Shape while inside you, at least not yet. 

Your hands found themselves on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh as you felt your high approach. Every thrust and rock felt more intense than the last. You focused on the sensations working you towards your climax. 

“Halsin please, please!”, you begged, not sure exactly what you were begging for. Your inner Omega wanted him to claim you right then and there but you fought it back as you kissed his palm, wishing you were closer to him. “Please Alpha!” 

“Go ahead my light.” he said, keeping up his pacing letting you let go on top of him. Your walls clenched down on him, spasming as your orgasm washed over you. His hips kept moving as yours stilled above him, letting you ride out your high. You had barely noticed his knot began to form in the fog of your pleasure. It was just barely inflated as he pulled out of you with a slight pop after you had come down. Subconsciously you let out a whine at the loss. 

“I can help.”  you were hunched over him, breath still shaky. 

“You have already done so much my love, let me finish this part.” 

You nodded and laid down beside him, you stroked his face and kissed along his jawline as his strong hands worked himself up and down. He turned his face to look at you, his pupils blown wide, lips shiny and pink as his moans slipped past. Softly you placed your lips on his, languidly exploring his mouth with yours. Suddenly he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing was shaky and heavier now. His eyes clenched shut as thick white ropes of cum shot out and landed on his abdomen. After a couple seconds of him regaining his breath He swiftly took your jaw and brought your face to meet his as he enveloped your mouth with his. He kissed you as if you were the air he needed to survive. 

Depraved thoughts of licking up his ejeculate from his torso brought lewd images to your foggy brain. Your hand goes to play with the milky white liquid on his chest, its thickish consistency no surprise to you.  He watched you in your daze for only a while before deciding to stop your actions so he could clean you both up properly. He took you hand gently, 

“I'm going to get a wet cloth, I will be back soon my heart.” He finished with a kiss to your forehead. You watched him with glassy eyes as he crossed the room to retrieve said item. Before he got back to you, your eyelids grew heavy and you slipped into a soft slumber.  

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[bellatrixobsessed1]

Confession Time

TW: For talks of mental illness as well as a mention of suicide.

This has actually been on my mind for quite a while but I was worried about how it would be taken. However this has actually come up several times in the Azula tag now so I might as well talk about it. And before I get to the point I just want to say that I’m very much open to respectful discussion. Please don’t rip me apart over this. 

So here we go; Azula/Therapy makes me rather uncomfortable.

And it does so on a rather personal level and for several reasons. I can’t really get into my biggest reason because it’s very deeply personal and I don’t feel comfortable sharing it online. So I’m gonna start with the less personal reasons as to why I think that Azula/Therapy is kinda sketchy imo.  

I feel as though most people who ship Azula/Therapy don’t really realize how it affects real people? For one thing I feel like it makes a joke of therapy. It’s kind of hard to explain but therapy isn’t some cute and quirky thing. It’s a very serious matter and to ship Azula/Therapy like it’s the next Drapple (Draco/Apple) just doesn’t sit right with me. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I feel like most people who ship Azula/Therapy don’t particularly mean any offense. I feel like to a degree it comes from a place of innocence. But and its big but, I think that Azula/Therapy got its origins from a not so wholesome place. In fact I think that the ship was  born from a place of hate. I think that the first time I encountered Azula/Therapy it was from a very notorious Azula anti. It gained traction with the anti crowd as a means to harass and guilt people for shipping Azula with anyone. And that’s not okay. I think that somewhere down the lines, the Azula fandom kind of reclaimed it but. I am damn near certain that this started as an Azula anti thing.

It’s one thing to ship Azula/Therapy because you don’t feel like Azula is sound enough to be in a relationship. But don’t try to guilt others for disagreeing. And this kind of leads me to my main problem with Azula/Therapy.

I think that it’s kind of, sort of (dare I say) ableist? Just because someone has a mental illness doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be loved. I’ve been kind of keeping tabs on discussions on this and I came across one anon who literally say something about how “Azula would just be a burden to her lover.” NGL that had me floored because this is the exact line of thinking that puts depressed people in a bad place. Speaking from experience, people with depression feel like burdens/like they are bringing people down. And to see this line of thinking being affirmed in fandom spaces does not help real people who are experiencing the same thing. God forbid someone shares disorder traits with Azula and they see that. 

I am 100% that there are some relationships where a person just isn’t stable enough to be in a relationship and it would be detrimental for them to have one. But for other people finding a lover can be instrumental to recovery! So by all means, this is definitely a matter of something being a case by case thing. Getting a littler personal (but without getting into too many details) I know two people who literally saved each other. And by this I mean, one was super depressed and the other was ready to kill themself. Finding each other was what rekindled their will to live again. That’s why it really bothers me to see Azula/Therapy being tossed around so carelessly. To me there’s this underlying implication that mentally ill people shouldn’t be allowed to date and get love. And that’s just not fair?  I feel like people maybe don’t think about this when posting Azula/Therapy stuff. 

“Well Azula specifically shouldn’t be in a relationship yet because she’s not in a good place for it.”

Okay fair but consider a few things; 1. some people specifically write post-redemption Azula ship fics 2. some people enjoy writing out fics where romance helps her heal. 

I have seen it come up that someone (I won’t mention names because I’m not sure if this user would want that) mention that they ship Azula/Therapy because they aren’t up to writing a fic that involves an arc of Azula getting to a place where she can have romance. Which is totally fair. But, that doesn’t mean that other people can’t. And I feel like this fandom has been trying to guilt people for shipping Azula with anyone. As mentioned, this isn’t fine. (@ mentioned user, feel free to reply). 

Another thing that I saw was an anon saying that being anti Azula/Therapy is aro/acephobic. I’m going to put my foot down as someone who has been very openly aro/ace and say, don’t try to speak for all of us. Yes romance isn’t the solution for everyone because romance isn’t what everyone is looking for. And I absolutely agree with this. However Azula is a fictional character and not everyone headcanons her as aro/ace. For some people, writing Azula in a romance as part of the healing process is what makes them happy. It doesn’t make them aro/acephobic. 

One more thing that I saw come up regarding Azula specifically. And I think that they made a wonderful point; Azula’s breakdown (as I interpreted it) came from a lack of love. Azula craved genuine affection whether she realized it or not. So I would argue that Azula would be one of those people who could strongly benefit from being in a relationship as part of the healing processes. By all means, make therapy a part of that healing process! She can be in a relationship and she can still go to therapy. She can use that therapy to help her keep that relationship healthy. I guess what I’m trying to say is I could get on board with Azula/*Character*/Therapy as an OT3. 99.99% sure that this is really common in real life. Actually 100% sure because (again without sharing too much personal info) I have seen a rather unstable person get into a relationship and use therapy to help them make sure that said relationship stays healthy. 

A person doesn’t have to be 100% mentally sound to be in a relationship. And having a mental illness while  being in a relationship doesn’t automatically make it a toxic or dangerous relationship on principal. I think that (depending on the disorder) some long discussions need to be had and some boundaries need to be put in place. Speaking from experience, I have heard someone say something akin to, “alright, I have *disorder* if I ever do *bad habit* then take these steps and don’t let me push you around...” Things like that. 

TL;DR: I feel like Azula/Therapy (even if it comes from a well meaning place) can be disheartening for people who relate to Azula & people who already feel like a burden in their real life relationships. Ship Azula/Therapy if you want and if it makes you comfortable but don’t try to shame people for shipping her with other characters. Also be weary of people who ship Azula/Therapy  as a means to belittle others.

I think that’s it for now.  If I think of anything else, I’ll add it. I’ll just end by saying that I don’t mean this to be antagonistic or yell at anyone but to offer a new POV.

[severetimetravelnerd]

I Don’t Know (ft. G Dragon and MINO) (8)

Part 8

Jiyong finds out what happened with Jae and Yuna tries to talk to Mino.

This series will be updated once a week, every Friday! No specific time though lol. It’s an AU where Jiyong has a younger sister and you’re her best friend! Featuring my OC Mirae as the Best friend. Just saying, it’s not related to any of the scenarios I’ve written so far. Please do leave me some comments or asks! I love receiving them! It’s also a bit of a love triangle situation, so yeah :)) There will be eventual smut in this series.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Also, just clarifying. The Jae here is not Park Jaehyung from Day6. It’s just the name.

Happy New Year Folks!! :)) Here’s to hoping 2021 is a better year for everyone :) I sincerely hope everyone had a great day and have great years of happiness and health ahead :)

Taglist:

@kwonnansi​

@unabashedturkeytreeslime​

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast​

@yee-hawwwwwwww​

@slayergroupie0128​

@herewecomeitsjekki​

@happygirl327​

@to-all-the-stories-i-love​

Please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list:))

Word Count: 3753

WARNINGS: cheating, slight violence(punches to the face), sexist remarks, smut (overstimulation and safe word usage). 

——————————————-

You started coughing violently before walking out of the room, excusing yourself. You walked straight past Minho, not even realising that there was someone standing there, but that was okay, because Minho didn’t realise you walked past him either. Yuna had turned around to see if you were okay and she saw Minho. Minho was so lost in staring at her, overcome by a rush of anger and sadness, he didn’t notice Jae excuse himself to check on you. Jiyong did though.

You ran to the bathroom and got there just in time before another violent coughing fit hit you. Why Jae of all people? He was the one person who working with was worse than working with Jiyong. And on top of that, Yuna came with him. Jae had been cheating on you. You didn’t tell anyone that was the reason for your break up though. When people asked, you just said you drifted apart, but it was actually because you caught him with another girl. He was drunk and they were making out, going to their bedroom when you walked in.

5 years ago

“Jae?”

He turned and smirked at you, pulling you into a kiss seconds after making out with that other woman.

“Y/N, babe. Wanna join?”

You started to feel sick. Nauseous.

“Anyway, you’re cheating on me with Jiyong.”

His eyes furrowed.

“Why do you look so sad? Oh. Okay, fine. You can invite Jiyong to join us too.”

Voice strained, you asked,

“How long Jae? How long have you been cheating on me?”

“Ever since I figured out that you were cheating on me with that bastard. I think it was at Sohyun’s wedding?”

You nearly fell right there. He had been cheating on you for three months? Because he thought you were cheating on him with Jiyong? Jae jolted you out of it by grabbing your phone.

“Let me call him to join us. I have a bunch of questions for him anyway.”

“What?! Jae, no!”

“Hello? Jiyong?”

“…What the fuck Jae? Why’re you calling me from Y/N’s phone? Is she okay??”

“Yeah, she’s fine. I actually wanted to ask-”

You grabbed your phone back, choking on a sob.

“No, Jiyong, it’s fine. Don’t worry. He’s just drunk.”

“Y/N, are you sure? You don’t sound okay.”

You couldn’t hold back the sob any longer.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. It’s perfect.”

And you cut the call. You turned to look at Jae and the very uncomfortable looking girl.

“Jae, we’re done. Don’t ever contact me again.”

You walked out to go to your car and cry. Jae never apologised. Nor did he follow you to your car. He just didn’t care. You don’t remember much of what you thought that night. But you did remember thinking that even if you could go back in time and change that one night at the wedding with Jiyong, you wouldn’t.

 ---

All those memories came rushing back, and you started feeling nauseous again. That’s when you felt very familiar hands brush back hair from your face. His touch made you feel even worse.

“What’s wrong Y/N?”

“Jae, get away from me.”

“But my poor Y/N looks a little unwell.”

“Get the fuck away from me.”

Jae laughed and took a few steps back.

“I was not expecting to see you here Y/N. Good to know I was right though.”

“Right about what?”

“About you and Jiyong, of course. Not going to lie, I felt slightly guilty about that night after seeing your reaction when you saw me with her, but now, I feel like I’m more than justified.”

You were about to say something, but Jiyong’s voice interrupted you.

“What night?”

You panicked when you saw a very angry Jiyong standing in the doorway. Furious, he repeated,

“What night Jae?”

Jae looked between the two of you and laughed.

“Oh, you never told him? Come on Y/N, you should have. At least you would have felt better after he beat me up.”

“Why would I beat you up?”

Jiyong’s eyes slowly travelled to you. You knew he was trying to ask you whether you didn’t tell him something, but didn’t want to voice it, scared he would cross a line.

“Well, after Y/N here found me in bed with another woman, I asked her to join us. I also told her to invite you. After all, if I could invite someone, she could also invite the person she was cheating on me with. That’s why I called you that night.”

Jiyong looked murderous. You knew he would want to kill Jae. Right there. But he kept looking at you, hurt more than anything else that you didn’t tell him.

“Your girlfriend caught you cheating. And you invited her to join?”

Jae shrugged.

“I mean, I wasn’t the only one. She had been cheating on me with you for ages.”

Jiyong was about to lose it. You could see that. But you weren’t bothered. Because you were also about to lose it.

“Jae, get the fuck out.”

“Why Y/N? Does seeing me here bother you?”

“Yeah it does Jae. Because I haven’t beaten up someone since middle school and you’re about to make me change that. So, before I do, get out of here you piece of shit.”

“Ha. That’s rich coming from someone who pretty much just slept their way up.”

There was an eerie silence after that. Jae was looking away and smirking. You stared at him, shocked at his audacity. Jiyong stared at you, willing you to let him kill Jae. You turned to Jiyong. He was begging you to let him punch Jae. At the very moment you nodded to Jiyong, too tired to do it yourself, Jae opened his mouth,

“What? Nothing to say to that? I guess it’s true.”

Jae didn’t know what hit him when Jiyong’s fist met his face. He stumbled to the side when Jiyong grabbed his collar and punched him again. And again. And again. Until he felt your hand on his shoulder. Although he was still mad, he dropped Jae’s collar and looked at you, wondering what to do. Jae lay there coughing up blood and wiping his bloody lips. You glared at him.

“Leave him be Jiyong. He’s a model. You can’t mess up his face more than this.”

And you grabbed Jiyong’s hand and walked out.

Jiyong looked pissed, but also confused.

“Where are we going?”

Without turning back to look at him, you muttered,

“Look at your hand. You caught it in Jae’s nose piercing. It’s a mess.”

And sure enough, when he looked down, his hand was a bloody mess. You pulled him into the infirmary and whipped out your phone. Your tone was calm when Somin picked up the call.

“Hey. Jiyong tripped over something, so we’re in the infirmary. We’ll get back to the meeting in a while.”

You turned to him and your voice was pretty disconnected when you spoke.

“Sit.”

You grabbed a first aid kit and started disinfecting his hand. He hissed when the disinfectant touched the wound. You didn’t say anything, but you become a lot gentler.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Jae?”

“I don’t know. This was when I liked you. I didn’t want you pitying me, or being mean to me because you felt like he had a point.”

His voice softened.

“I wouldn’t have done that.”

“Really? Can you really say that? Because you were very mean to me otherwise.”

“I’m sorry. I owe you an apology. A lot of apologies actually.”

“What are you apologising for?”

“For being mean to you. For hurting your feelings. For saying what I did when you confessed. For leaving you alone that night. For taking you for granted. For constantly snapping at you. For pushing you away to the point where you felt like you couldn’t tell me about your toxic ex because I would make it worse. For snapping at you when you called me Ji simply because I was scared it would give me hope for something that I didn’t think would happen because I li-”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

You looked up, meeting his pleading eyes.

“Jiyong, I’m in a happy, healthy relationship. I’m happy with Minho. Please just be happy for me. I haven’t completely forgiven you for everything, because Jiyong, I’ll be honest. You scarred me. For years, I thought something was my fault. I thought I wasn’t enough and that’s why you hated me. And you never cared. I’m treating you normally now because we have to work together for a while. That’s it.”

He looked so painfully resigned that you couldn’t help your heart from hurting.

“Yeah, I know. That’s enough for me. But please don’t cut me out of your life. You’re someone very important to me.”

You backed away after bandaging his hands, leaving Jiyong feeling rather empty from the loss of contact.

“I don’t know Jiyong. We’ll see.”

 ---

While Jiyong was pouring his heart out to you, Yuna excused herself saying she was going to follow you, but she shut the door behind her and went up to Minho. Eyes regretful, she grabbed his sleeve,

“Hey.”

“Hey? Really? That’s what you have to say to me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Minho.”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t you want an explanation for why I did what I did?”

Minho stopped breathing for a second. That was the one thing he desperately craved. He needed to know why he wasn’t enough. She knew.

“Minho, it wasn’t because of you. You were amazing. It’s just. I met Jiyong years ago, at a fan sign, and he helped me out. He probably doesn’t remember it, but I fell for him.”

His voice broke.

“So, you dated me to get to Jiyong hyung?”

“Minho, but please. I love you. Please. Please can we try this again?”

“You love me?” He laughed. “What bullshit. If you did, you never would have done what you did.”

“Minho please. I’m so sorry. I’ve never regretted anything more.”

He pulled away from her.

“I have a girlfriend. Leave me alone.”

And he walked off. What was odd however, was that she didn’t seem too upset about that as she kept an eye out for Jiyong to return. Minho managed to walk away, but the moment he closed the door behind him, all he could think about was what she said. And how you had liked Jiyong. And known him for years. And how she dated him to get to Jiyong. Fucking hell. Why Jiyong of all people?

 ---

You somehow managed to get though the day, the only good part of which was seeing Jae stammer as he lied about tripping somewhere. The moment you walked out of the office though, you called up the one person you needed to see.

“Hey Mirae. Wanna get some coffee together?”

“For you to offer me coffee, you must be really out of it. What’s up?”

You smiled. You needed to just relax with your best friend for a while.

“Nothing much. Just... it was a long day.”

“Sure. I’m home right now, so you can come over if you want.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Keep some sweat pants out for me.”

 You lay back relaxing on her couch, blissfully wiggling your arms in the oversized sweatshirt and comfy pants she gave you.

“I’m stealing these.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

You sat up and sipped on the lemon tea she made you and you could almost feel the tension leave your body.

“Okay, spill.”

You took a deep breath and turned to face her.

“You remember Jae, right?”

Her expression turned wary.

“Yes, I do. Asshole.”

“Yeah, he’s playing Jiyong in the MV. And Minho’s ex Yuna is playing… the girl.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You recounted the day’s events for her, leaving out the bit about him turning up at your apartment drunk and you buying him breakfast the next morning. Mirae always hated Jae, so you knew she’d be mad when she found out, but she just remained silent. Then you told her about what Jiyong said, or rather almost said and how you cut him off.

“He never really cared about me anyway.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

You stared at her, dumbfounded.

“I definitely wouldn’t say that.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“He’s gotten you home when you were drunk on more than one occasion. He’s taken care of you when you couldn’t walk straight. He took it upon himself to cheer up the woman he loved after her boyfriend was an asshole to her at Sohyun’s wedding. He’s comforted you whenever he felt you needed it. Granted, he didn’t know his behaviour caused it most of the time. I have never seen him as worried as he was the day you fainted and he carried you home. He keeps your confession in his wallet. Women don’t stay with him because he can’t stop thinking about you. You’re the only one who can comfort him and cheer him up when he’s feeling low. You managed to get him to cut down on his smoking. He sleeps well only around you. Y/N, you matter to him. A lot.”

“What… Love? Mirae, I thought you didn’t like the thought of us together.”

“I didn’t. Because he didn’t realise he liked you and you never called him out on shit when he was mean to you. It was bad for both of you. Worse for you though. But now, he’s changed. You’ve changed. And now, I think it’ll be better. I don’t know whether I’ll like it, but it’ll be better now. You’re happy with Minho though, so I’m not saying to break up with him. I just want you to know that… things are different now. He still has a lot to make up for. Years of him being toxic aren’t just going to disappear. But even though he told me not to tell you, I feel like you have a right to know about the things he’s done for you over the years. I may be harsh on him, but he’s my brother. And you’re my best friend. And in the end, I just want both of you to be happy. You don’t have to be happy together. Just…be happy.”

You stared at her in shock. She sighed.

“I know. I know you never knew about any of this. And maybe I should have told you earlier. But you were just beginning to get over him when you cut him out of your life and that was what you needed then. Now, things are weird. You’re working with him but you’re in a happy relationship with Minho. He likes you but he’s not trying to make a move on you, although his album is literally about you.”

“I liked him for all these years and he never said anything?”

“He liked you before you liked him. And he didn’t say anything because he was an idiot. And he was scared. And that made him an ass. Don’t get me wrong. He was a Grade A jackass, but I think you should know this.”

You couldn’t comprehend all of this. You felt overwhelmed by this crushing pain. All those years that you liked him, he liked you back? Instead of all those years of questioning yourself, the two of you could have just been together? You felt some anger, but more than anger, you just felt sad. In a barely audible whisper, you said,

“Mirae, tell me everything.”

She looked up, clearly concerned, but she told you everything. About how he started liking you ten years ago, how he convinced himself he didn’t, how he took care of you that night when you were drunk, how he went back to search for you at the park. And with every word, your heart hurt a little more. You liked Minho. It wasn’t even a possibility that you would break up with him after gaining this information, but it really twisted a knife through your heart when you thought of all those years. You stood silently after Mirae was done, gathering your things to leave. She jumped up, worried.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I just really need a little time and space to wrap my head around this.”

“You okay?”

You turned and gave her a sad smile.

“Not exactly, but I’ll get there. I just need to think about this.”

 You got home, showered and napped. You needed time to rest and recover. It had been a very long day. You just wanted Minho to come home soon, so that you could cuddle with him and maybe have a tough conversation about everything you found out today. Oh shit. You’d also have to tell him about Yuna. And you didn’t want that. It did seem like he would be home late though.

Minho was in his studio, trying not to think too much about everything that happened when he heard a soft knock on the door. He opened it and nearly slammed it shut when he saw Yuna standing there. He would have too, if she hadn’t stuck her foot in there to prevent him from doing that.

“Can we talk Minho?”

“What do you want Yuna?”

“Yuna? Sweetheart, whatever happened to baby girl?”

He stared at her in disbelief. She walked past him and made herself comfortable on the couch.

“Minho, I need to apologise for everything that happened a few years ago. It was horrible. And if I could, I would turn back time to prevent that from happening.”

“Yeah, but you can’t, so what’s the point of all of this?”

“Minho, please. You’re the only man I’ve ever been happy with. And you know that we were happy together. Please. Let’s give this one last shot?”

Minho remained silent and Yuna took that as an invitation to move closer to him. She gently put         her hand on his thigh and starting tracing patterns.

“Minho, baby, please. I’m sorry.”

Minho’s mind was clouded. He was so mad that Jiyong hyung was so involved with his girlfriend. He was mad because of their history. He was mad because of his history. He was hurt by everything. At the back of his mind, a small voice told him that he knew that his chemistry with Yuna was unbelievable and he had never had better sex, but still. The thought of you, smiling as you hugged him after a long day couldn’t let him give in. He was tempted. So tempted to not stop Yuna’s hand that was trailing upwards but then he remembered the one time he saw you cry because of a movie. It was just a sad movie, but he had promised himself that he would never be the cause of those tears. He grabbed Yuna’s hand and turned to her to tell her to back off when he kissed him. He was too shocked to do anything about it, so she deepened it. The moment Minho realised what was going on, he pushed her off him.

“What the fuck Yuna?! I told you I have a girlfriend.”

She just looked away, not answering him.

“Get out. Get out of my studio right now and never come back.”

---

Minho got home a while later, exhausted, stressed, nervous, guilty and jealous. Not a great mix of emotions. His jealousy only amplified when he saw you working on a concept for Jiyong.   Not fucking Jiyong again. You were so deep in thought you didn’t hear him, so when he hugged you, you jumped.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s wrong Minho? Long day?”

Minho stared at you for a minute, hating how the only thing he could think of was the way Jiyong stood before you protectively. He didn’t reply, instead leaning in to pull you into a deep kiss, his hands travelling down your legs and wrapping them around his waist.

“Yes, it was. Will you help me forget about it?”  

“Okay.”

 Not long after that, you were lying face down on the bed, with tears streaming down your face as Minho’s fingers pumped into you. He was giving you your fifth orgasm. It was too much. Way too much. It has crossed from pleasure to just plain painful. Something was wrong with him that day. He was usually very responsive to your non-verbal cues. He seemed preoccupied and angry. You barely managed to croak out,

“Minho?”

The speed of his fingers increased.

“That’s master to you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You cried out.

“Minho, stop! Popcorn!”

It took a minute for it to register that you had just used your safe word with him. Once it did though, everything stopped. He immediately stopped, moving away from you. You fell to your side, tears still streaming down your face. You were shaking and you couldn’t keep your eyes open. It hurt so much.

“Oh fuck.”

He tried to wrap a blanket around you but you flinched at his touch. His face fell, but he moved away. God, it hurt so much that you flinched, but it was his fault. He should have checked in on you more. You slowly covered yourself with the blanket and waited till you stopped shivering.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. Fuck. I’m really sorry. I should have checked in on you more.”

You shook your head.

“It’s okay. You didn’t mean to. And it’s over now. We just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He was unsure when he leaned closer, moving some hair back from your face.

“I’m sorry.”

You just gave him a slight smile and held his hand.

“I accept your apology.”

“I’ll get you some hot chocolate?”

“Yes please.”

And Minho left for the kitchen. While your body still hurt and you were exhausted, you weren’t mad at him. You just wanted to know what was troubling him. You were snapped out of your thoughts when a notification popped up on your phone.

It was from Mirae.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I thought he was better than that. Remember, you can always just come and stay with me for a while.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. What was Mirae talking about? Who was she talking about? Did Jiyong do something? You opened your browser to try and figure things out when you realised your boyfriend’s name was trending. And your heart stopped when you saw why.

“BREAKING NEWS: WINNER’s MINO and Model Yuna dating!”    

---

[noisyquokka]

Dumb Traditions

pairing: Xiaojun x Reader 

genre: Fluff

length: 2.4k

warnings: Mentions of alcohol and this gif could kill you like LOOK AT HIM BEING ALL SOFT இ௰இ

@lluyangyang​​ requested 29: "Christmas is so close, I can almost smell the mistletoe I’m never going to get kissed under.“

This is so unbelievably late cause I had some personal stuff happen but I also had no idea where I wanted to go with this so I’m sorry, Em! You might’ve forgotten about this too oops 😂 either way, I hope you like it, child 👀🤙🏻

__________________________________________________________

You were not a party animal.

It was the truest statement about you, parties weren’t your thing and that was okay. But somehow, over the course of the week, your best friend had talked you into going to his holiday party. He knew you weren’t one for parties. You couldn’t stand the crowds and the number of people who would sit around making out, making bad decisions thanks to the alcohol that clouded their mind. To be frank, you didn’t care what those people would decide to do. It just wasn’t the highlight of your night. But here you were, wrapping your coat around yourself as you walked to his dorm. The thought had occurred to you that you could stop this pursuit at any time. You could stop walking, turn around and go home and you shouldn’t have to feel bad about that. But you we’re almost there and it wasn’t exactly warm outside. So you kept on your way, thinking about how you managed to get yourself into this situation.

~~~

"I’m going home for Christmas break.”

YangYang picked his head up in surprise, slowing his pace as you both strolled down the sidewalk. He had finished class for the day and was going shopping for his upcoming Christmas party, which you decided to tag along on. And tagging along just meant he pulled you away from your friends on his way out of the university. It had to be a surprise to hear of you going home though. After all, you had spent every Christmas with him and Xiaojun since you started college. You never had much desire to go home.

“So… What made you change your mind?” YangYang finally asked, dragging his feet against the salt-covered sidewalk. You shrugged, carding your fingers through your hair.

“It’s just– I don’t know. Xiaojun and I do the same thing every Christmas, you included when you’re not out partying. I feel like we could use a change.” It was true, you spent every Christmas the exact same way. Xiaojun would order takeout and you’d set up the tv to watch the same old Christmas movies, dozing off sometime before midnight. Every. Single. Year. You spent a lot more time with him because YangYang was always out with friends, normally spending the night elsewhere.

“Okay, now what’s the real reason you’re thinking about going home?” He cocked his head your way with a sly grin.

“What do you mean ‘real reason’? I just told you I-”

“No, no, no. It’s easy enough to change things up. Plus, you hesitated when you answered my question.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

You exhaled through your nose, throwing your head back in defeat. As per usual, YangYang ate it up.

“Hey, if you don’t wanna answer, it’s fine. I was just wondering.” You emitted a mirthless laugh, shoving your hands in the warmth of your jacket pockets. It was just like YangYang to badger you and tease you about something and then act as if he didn’t want to pry. You pondered whether or not to say what was really on your mind before blurting it out.

“Christmas is so close, I can almost smell the mistletoe I’m never going to get kissed under.”

It took everything in YangYang not to burst into laughter but he failed miserably, leaving you to regret opening your mouth. Now that you’d said something, you felt dumb. Who cares about being single on Christmas? Or any other day? Nevermind that you’re a college student who should be focused on your future. You finally found the courage to smack the boy in the shoulder, a non-verbal warning.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” YangYang cackled, trying his best to control his breathing, “You’ve just never sounded so hopelessly single!”

“Gee, thanks. But don’t you ever have those days where you just crave a healthy relationship with someone? Being able to go out and have no worries because you’re with the one person who makes your day so much better?” You frowned at the chunk of ice sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, taking your frustration out on it with a kick. The brunette gave a half shrug, sweeping his hair from his line of vision. Sometimes you wished you could read this boy’s mind. YangYang was hard to read from the day you started hanging out with him, which was an odd day in and of itself, considering how much partying he did. Everyone expected the quiet one to be friends with anyone that wasn’t Liu YangYang and yet here you were, 5 years later. You wondered if anyone realized just how shy he could be until you got to know him.

“Is this about you catching feelings for Xiaojun?”

“No! Can’t I just be sick of being single?” You sputtered, running a hand through your hair. He bit his lip, a shitty attempt at hiding his smirk that only made you frown deeper.

“If you’re so sick of being single, you gotta put yourself out there, you know? Maybe meet some new people… at a holiday party, for example…”

“You just dodged my question with another question to shamelessly plug your holiday party that you know I’m not going to.” He chuckled, elbowing you in the side.

“I didn’t say my party! It’s been a while since you came to one of mine though.”

“Not this again.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. This was the twelfth time in the past two days that YangYang mentioned his holiday party. The second most popular to his New Year’s parties. You stopped at the crosswalk, pressing the button for the light to change.

“I’m just saying, the last time you came to one of my holiday parties was the last year of high school. Things aren’t as crazy as they used to be.”

“I have a pretty good idea of what your parties are like thanks to Xiaojun’s monthly recaps. Almost everyone attends, your dorm gets crowded… It’s amazing you haven’t had cops show up at your door yet.” You muttered. He gave a dismissive wave of his hand, knowing how Xiaojun described his parties.

“Fine, I could start the party earlier. By the time the evening comes, it won’t be as packed and you can come hang out and enjoy yourself a bit more. And Xiaojun will be there!” He wiggled his eyebrows in a playful manner.

“YangYang-”

“I’ll even buy your favorite drinks! Deal?” He didn’t give you another second to intervene, answering with a high pitched “Wow, YangYang, you’re such a cool and supportive best friend. It’s a deal!”

Your expression dulled, feeling his arm wrap around your shoulder as you walked across the street.

~~~

Thinking about it you never really gave him a yes or no answer at the end of the day. It didn’t matter now that you were standing right outside of the dorms. If you wanted to, you could still text Xiaojun and spend the night eating takeout and watching Christmas movies like normal. But knowing he was in there meant a call or text would most likely go ignored. Not because he was ignoring you, but because of the loud music and being a co-host for his roommate. With a deep breath, you walked up to the door and knocked. And there it was; that dreaded minute of waiting for the door to open. You weren’t able to feel this anxiety before, you would always be here before the party started when you used to attend. The longer it took for no one to answer the more you thought about walking away. Maybe it was better to walk away.

And then the door opened. You tensed as Xiaojun suddenly appeared, eyes lighting up at your presence.

“I was hoping you’d come,” He beamed, stepping outside beside you, “I ordered some lattes from the cafe. I need to go pick them up though.” He checked the time on his phone before slipping it in his back pocket.

“I’ll join you. If that’s okay of course.”

He nodded, descending the staircase to the dorms. You noticed his light humming of Christmas songs as you strolled down the sidewalk, sneakers scraping the snowy pavement. It was a lovely sound; Xiaojun’s soothing voice slowly emerging from those low hums. Maybe you weren’t big on Christmas but hearing him sing his own renditions made you feel some type of way. You definitely preferred him singing “Santa Tell Me” over the original as you walked into the village.

“Wow, I think you’re making me biased against Christmas songs!” You spoke up. Xiaojun scoffed but still sent you a smile.

“Is this the part where you ask me to make you a mixtape of me singing Christmas songs?”

“I would, but we spend so much time together. You’re like my own personal mp3."

"Mp3…” He scoffed again, shooting you a grin as he pulled the door to the cafe open. You chuckled and walked in, immediately being enveloped by the smell of coffee and fresh pastries. You walked up to the counter together, waiting on the order to be finished. The holiday vibes always seemed to be strongest in a coffee shop, you noticed. The smells always transitioned around November, stronger and sweeter than any other time of the year. A mixture of fresh coffee beans, cinnamon, and nutmeg blanketed the small business now, easing your mind from the anxiety that clouded it earlier.

“Here you are.” The barista smiled, sliding three drink trays and a bag across the counter. Xiaojun was quick to pay for the order, handing you the bag and one of the trays to carry.

“Is no one in the alcohol mood tonight?” You questioned, gesturing to the number of drinks he’d ordered. Xiaojun shrugged, holding the door for you once more.

“Nah, YangYang wasted money on the extra alcohol and everyone stayed pretty sober,” He replied, shaking his head in disbelief, “But there’s always New Years. Can’t expect college students to stay docile on New Years!” You nodded in agreement. Only YangYang has the craziest New Years parties around campus. It’s one of the top reasons it’s so popular.

“So did YangYang trick you into saying yes to this party or did you come by free will?” Xiaojun asked, sparing you a glance. You laughed at his choice of words.

“Hmm, let me think,” You drew your free hand near your face, tapping your finger on your chin in thought, “He might’ve cajoled me into coming.”

“Was it the favored drinks?”

“What can I say, he knows me too well!” You joked, catching a glimpse of a lopsided grin on your best friend’s face. And maybe you stared way too long, getting lucky enough that Xiaojun’s focus was on the pavement below.

"Well, whether or not you genuinely wanted to come, I'm glad you decided to. These parties have always been a little bit better with you there." He confessed, looking up at you with a genuine smile. You didn't want to read too much into what those words meant so you just allowed yourself to internally freak out, your stomach doing flips the rest of the way back to the dorms.

~~~

"I was just about to call you, I thought you were bailing on me." YangYang pulled you towards the kitchen, grabbing the drinks from your hand to replace it with an alcoholic beverage.

"Dude, chill! You know how y/n feels about parties." Xiaojun reminded, handing out the large order from the cafe. It was safe to say YangYang was a tad drunk from the way he clung to your arm, like a toddler looking for attention. The dorm was pretty empty at this point. A complete 180 to the normal parties you'd been to in the past. The few people who still stuck around were either mingling or just waiting for their drink from Xiaojun so they could take their leave. You did your best to slip out of YangYang's death grip but he stuck to your side, whining every time you tried prying his arms away. 

“You should go to bed, party animal.” You teased, making your way towards the empty couch. He still clung to you for dear life, resting his head on your shoulder once you sat down. It didn’t take much longer for the straggling guests to leave, Xiaojun playing co-host for a very unconscious YangYang who you could finally push off of you. With the push of a button, the Christmas music cut out and the blond-haired boy sighed in relief.

“You hear that? Serenity...” Xiaojun breathed, leaning against the kitchen island. You chuckled, quietly getting up to join him. He slid your drink across the counter, luckily not spilling it.

“Thanks.” You sighed. “I don’t know how you manage to help host these parties so often. I wasn’t even here for most of it and I feel exhausted.” 

“I guess I have a knack for co-hosting. It’s not one of my weekly desires though.” He replied, taking a sip of his latte. You mirrored his actions, letting the liquid warm your tummy. 

“I’m pretty sure if I were in your shoes, I’d be YangYang right now.” You said, looking over your shoulder. He was still sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging off the side of it.

Xiaojun smirked at your comment, taking another slug of his latte.

“Huh...” 

You turned back to him, noticing where his focus was; the ceiling. You looked up yourself, mentally cursing. The sprig of mistletoe hung above the two of you, a looming reminder to the comment you made to YangYang a few days ago. Either he forgot about that conversation or he planned for this to happen and right now you had a pretty good idea that it was the latter of the two. Does that mean Xiaojun knows? Your neck suddenly felt hot, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering about for the second time tonight. You cleared your throat, leaning against the counter.

“Hey, it’s just a dumb tradition thing, right?” You chuckled awkwardly, looking anywhere but at your best friend, “What’s the worst thing that would happen if we didn’t... you know...” 

Xiaojun watched you with amusement from his spot in the middle of the doorway. You were adorable, and not helping your case with your nervous blabbering. Without a word, he leaned in, pausing a moment before pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

“This dumb tradition just gave me the guts to do the one thing I’ve been wanting to do for years.”

[hecohansen31]

Would you be okay doing werewolf Duncan? I’m so thirsty for him that Id throw myself into the ocean. So werewolf Duncan fluff maybe? Smut if you want. Please? Thank you I love you bye

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

Of course, I am ok with writing about werewolf! Duncan, I love supernatural AU of any kind, so feel free to send more, also this one is the start of a series, I might writen when I have more time... but let me know if you would interested into knowing more or not...

As always... I hope you’ll enjoy it and more importantly sorry for taking so much time!

Also I am tagging @dyns33 because she has a wonderful werewolf! AU and also @coollangdon since her sugar daddy/werewolf! Duncan is my favorite thing ever!

And also @blakewaterxx because she might like this!

WARNINGS: Death of a Character, Prejudice, Past Trauma, Hateful Relationship, Supernatural AU!, WItch! Reader (Mention of Coven), Sex, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Squirting, Scratching and Growling, Unprotected sex (WRAP IT CHILDREN!), Mention of Heat and Werewolf Issues.

You still remembered the “High Priestess” ritual.

It had been the first moment ever when you had felt like you truly fit somewhere, in the excitation and the happiness of having finished a new journey and a new one starting the following day, when you would be told where you would testify your devotion to the goddess.

You had hoped it would be California, you loved the sun and the beaches and couldn’t wait to pass your time in one of its cities, alongside the fact that the treatment of witches there wasn’t as bad as in many other places, such as DC.

Madison had taunted you, about your choice, meanwhile Zoe and Queenie had shot grapes at her and Nan had giggled at the entire scene.

You and Mallory had danced till your feet hurt and Coco had lectured you uselessly about the calories in the pieces of cakes you had eaten.

And then things had started turning for the worse.

Cordelia had pushed a crown of flowers onto your hair, each flower chosen just for you, showing all your abilities: orchids, mignonettes and laurels, meaning devotion, value and talent.

And you had bowed to her, since she was the Supreme, and your boss through every sense, but also some kind of show of respect towards the person that had brought you out of the darkest place in your life, showing that you should never ever be afraid of your true nature.

You should have guessed that this was going to end up badly when you saw some kind of sadness on Cordelia’s face, but you had thought that she was just sad that you would be going out of Robinchaux and she would miss you, as a dear student of hers.

But then she had told you had chosen to be at DC, and although you hadn’t been able to protest at the ceremony, the following day you had stormed inside her office, as a true fury:

“You can’t make me go there!” you were aware that you sounded like a little child, but you hadn’t cared.

If you had to go back to DC, you would have rather stayed back with Madison at Robinchaux, taking care of new recruits, something which you dreaded, but still liked more than having to deal with snobbish werewolves who thought that witches were the bane of their existences.

“Your father died, yesterday, (Y/N)” told you Cordelia, her lips pursed together in an extremely serious expression, meanwhile her hands were joined in front of her, making her seem older, as if the thought of delivering such a bad news to you, hurt her more than you.

You had to process the phrase for a few minutes, before it truly settled.

And even when it did, it didn’t seem believable.

You had talked with your father a few days ago and he had told you that he was fine, he might have been developing a cold, but he was fine.

And he was extremely proud of you for having succeeded in becoming an ‘High Priestess’.

“I know that you don’t like it when I mention your mother… but believe me… she would have been proud of you, little princess”.

“All that matters to me, dad, is that you are proud of me” you had replied, not wanting to talk about the witchy mother that had left you on your father’s doorstep, after she had gotten pregnant with you on a one night stand with your father.

It wasn’t a matter of love, it was simple biology, but your father hadn’t ever let it weigh on your shoulder, taking you care and loving you as if you had been truly wanted and searched.

“And I am, sweetheart!” he had chanted, his hands coming to clap and you had smirked.

“Love you dad”.

“Love you, too, girlie”.

Those couldn’t be the last words that you had uttered to your father.

This must have to be some kind of twisted joke.

“… they found him last night, he had a heart-attack” explained Cordelia as if the thought that he had died of natural causes brought you some comfort “DC doesn’t have their alpha anymore, and I know who will raise after your father, it isn’t a dynasty that loves witches…”.

And you knew it from experience.

You wouldn’t be able to take over the role of your father in the werewolf community, since you were only partially a werewolf and hadn’t showed any part of that legacy.

Only pure-blooded wolves could attend the highest roles, hence you weren’t his heir, and since your father didn’t have any other children (he had been low key faithful to your mother, something that made you feel sick to your stomach, since she could have cared less), the title of “alpha” would go the most famous family in the city, the Shepherds.

You had known them all your life, mostly Duncan.

You had both come from high-end families and growing up as such till the day you had been shunned by the community because you had started making magical tricks.

One day you were grabbing onto some kitchen tools and the following day you were magically moving around those same kitchen tools, just shaking lightly your head and hands.

Everybody would have expected your father, the alpha of the community, coming from a long dynasty of pure-blooded wolves, to throw you away in the nearest community of witches, where you would grow up on your own with your own kind.

He should have remarried and have had other children, pure-blooded ones, at least.

But your father had kept you, treating you as a beloved daughter, wanting you desperately and loving you despite your birth flaw which hadn’t ever been that for him: he was the only werewolf that you had trusted in your life.

Beside Duncan.

But that was another story.

Since you had grown with the Shepherds’ only child, and their beloved heir, it was kind of expected for you two to be interested in the other, something that only a mate bond had intensified and it was natural that as teenagers you had been a couple, although his parents didn’t approve because you were partly.

You had loved him deeply and stupidly, thinking that you had fallen in love.

But soon you had discovered that, at least, for Duncan, it wasn’t nothing more than a fling and the entire time he had faked the emotions he had showed you, in a rather ridiculing situation that had brought you on the verge of losing your last brand of hope.

It was the night after that your father had bought you a ticket for New Orleans and packed you a suitcase.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you here suffering anymore, although it saddens me because I never want you to leave my side… but I just can’t have you feeling like this… I don’t want to bind you in this shithole of a city”.

At first you had thought that it was the worst idea ever, but then as you discovered more and more about your origins as a witch, you had slowly settled and created your own group at Robinchaux, ending up with better friends than ever that you loved and who loved you, back.

You had sworn of never going back there, but apparently…

… you had to.

“I know that this is too much to ask” Cordelia started, meanwhile she fidgeted with her hands, wondering whether she should have done something for you as hugging you or holding you as you trembled, but she kept on being unable, mostly when you were frozen in front of her, your breath barely audible.

“… ‘Delia, I can’t go back” your voice trembled with a frailty you hadn’t had in so many times “… I swore it to him, I owe it to him”.

“He needs you to rein in the situation: you know how the thing will be if the Shepherds take the entirety of the power, they’ll ban witches and try to find a way to destroy us, you know that as much as I love you, my first duty is to the community”.

“I know it” although her decision didn’t hurt you any less.

For any witches the life of the coven, mattered more than the one of a single.

Which wasn’t as different from what the werewolves did.

You, witches just didn’t care about the family matters as much as they did.

For you it was a sisterhood, and for them it was family

“I am going to let you have the weekend, before you come to a decision; I won’t be able to change the location, but you are more than welcome to remain here, in case, teaching is a noble job”.

You didn’t despise teaching, although you weren’t sure if you could handle any kind of brats, but you knew you were born for being a High Priestess, the one who leads a coven.

In the end, the following day you were on a train for DC, having chosen the path that had been laid out for you, with the knowledge that you wouldn’t act like a coward, running away from the problem, instead of fighting it, as you did, as soon as you were able to settle in your new role.

The first days were the hardest, mostly because you didn’t have to simply deal with a city without a leader, but with the private loss of your father, which hurt you much more than anything, but you were forced to show a neutral face, constantly pushing the pain away.

And alongside the pain, came the fact that you were secretly suspecting that your father’s death was an actual murder, since your father had always been a man extremely healthy and even the legal doctor proved to you when she showed you the body, she had found no trace of venomous substances, in his body.

But not only you didn’t trust anyone, anymore, but you knew it all too well that there were some poisons that could evoke such an effect, simulating a heart-attack and leaving no traces in the body.

You had studied them and knew how to create them.

But you had to thread lightly on this path, since not only you had the aversion of the main werewolves family, Shepherds included, but it had also been difficult to gain the other witches’ respect, mostly due to you half-being as a werewolf.

“She is one of them, she won’t understand our troubles” you had heard them utter, meanwhile you passed them through many reunions of the Council, the reunion where all magical creatures met together to talk about important matters.

But you had managed to get their respect in the end, proving to be one of them, alongside gaining the favor of many other magical creatures, since you had started solving some of their problems, whereas werewolves, a rather closed community, didn’t care for anything other than themselves.

Who hadn’t accepted you, in fact, were the werewolves, and with the Shepherds family running them you hadn’t expected it to be easy, although Duncan had showed himself to be much more malleable than his relatives, with you, mostly about the matters that belonged to fights between magical creatures.

You acted as a moderator for the werewolves, meanwhile Duncan, who had through the time become the Sheriff of the community, was the armed arm of your intervention, and although the werewolves still ruled, you had managed to bring some changes, mostly to soften some rules against the other magical creature.

Your relationship, aside from work, with Duncan was rather cold, mostly due to your behavior, with the constant refusal to believe thoroughly to him, avoiding him whenever you could, although the mate bond between you two had intensified due to the nearness.

You were just unable to let go of the past: you and Duncan had started dating when you were sixteen, although you weren’t the most popular girl, unlike him who could have had anyone he wanted, and it had been a sweet romance, painfully awkward due to your shyness and his need to impress others.

But you had loved him, in the naivest way a sixteen-year old could.

But he hadn’t cared for feelings or interests: it had been an easy move to control you and your father, and to humiliate you one day, when he had grown tired of the game.

And although you had both grown up in adults, you weren’t able to distance him from the cruel teenager, who had told everyone all your fears and insecurities.

Duncan on his part hadn’t shown many thoughts about the past and many times he had asked you for a coffee or such thing.

‘To have a little chat on what we missed’ he had justified it, looking at you with eyes full of intensity.

‘We are not a couple, anymore, Duncan, and we are adults enough to know not to step on each other’s feet’.

Still it had happened more and more frequently that you were pushed together, both the heirs to two big empires, with enough story that it wasn’t easy to disentangle each other from the mate bond.

Like that day.

You had woken up with a strange sadness washing over you, not belonging to you, since your day was supposed to be pretty nice.

It was a day off from the entire bullshit of DC, you had enough time to make your favorite breakfast and to read a bit, meanwhile you planned your monthly report for Cordelia, and you knew she would be proud of knowing that many rules were being changed and witches were feeling more at ease in the city.

But nothing you did, helped you in some way or some kind.

Hence, since the mate bond allowed you to share your emotions with your mate, you knew it was Duncan’s.

You tried to work through it, but it became more and more painful and worst of all it made you not focus properly on anything, and when you accidentally sent Cordelia an empty email, having deleted what you had written, for four times, it became clear that you wouldn’t be very much active.

So, you thought about getting to Duncan’s house and tell him to shut his fucking emotion, before you got a headache because of it.

But as you parked in the luxurious Shepherd mansion, you found only Annette opening your door, who looked like she had gone through a hurricane, her pristine condition being horridly tainted by something that looked like regret.

“I need to have a word with your son” you mumbled, not meeting her eyes and feeling again like when you had visited Duncan at his house, for the first time: Annette had never made you feel like everything might be more simple, constantly pushing obstacles between you and Duncan.

“He isn’t home” and she almost shoved the door against your face, just for you to enchant it to stay open.

“Then where is he?” you mumbled, not one of withholding the truth, alongside the fact that you hated this entire situation of being bound to the only person you couldn’t stand.

And meanwhile you kept the door open, magically, you took a good look at Annette, seeing that not only she was extremely less cheerful than usually, but she had probably cried, and this was your obvious cue that shit was going down between her and Duncan.

“I don’t honestly know” her answer was extremely truthful although it clearly pained her to speak so you didn’t ask much more, immediately moving away from the threshold, knowing all too well how these things went.

Although you and your father loved each other deeply, you had also fought many times, mostly because of Duncan now that you thought about this.

“… I am going to look for him, call me if he comes back home” it was more a thought than an actual suggestion since you knew that you and Annette didn’t have any kind of communication outside of the Council, but some part of you couldn’t help but be worried for Duncan.

Although it might have seemed cliché-y, Duncan had an amazing respect for his mother, and he cherished her suggestions more than his own ideas, something that had bothered you and still did, but you couldn’t hear yourself over that aching feeling Duncan was sharing with you.

You had lost so many years of Duncan’s growth that you weren’t sure where to start, but you thought about what Duncan had liked back when he was a sixteen year old with you, and you were brought back to an afternoon when you had chosen to share with Duncan your favorite place on Earth.

A little garden in an abandoned area and you had remembered how much Duncan had protested about the fact that the house was probably haunted, and you were going to be arrested for trespassing.

‘Is the rebel Duncan scared’ you had cooed sarcastically, meanwhile you went through the garden to reach a pretty little wood which had reminded you of the mythical wood you read in Greek hymns and poems, where the gods met humans.

He hadn’t cared in the slightest about anything anymore, rushing to your side, and taking your hand, meanwhile you reached the point you had chosen for a romantic pic-nick setting everything down, with Duncan’s help, and although looking back at it you knew it was all fake, you felt like Duncan had been truly happy, in that moment.

And he had kept going back to ‘your place’.

So, you thought about starting your research there and were greeted with a correct suspicion since the feeling intensified as you moved through the garden to reach the wood, and when you entered, Duncan’s presence was heavy onto you, but you didn’t see him anywhere.

Then the wolf appeared from nowhere.

You knew Duncan’s wolf form, because when you were younger, him and his friend would get drunk and turn into wolves, since they didn’t have control on themselves anymore, and even if it was extremely dangerous, they wouldn’t do much more than sleep the hangover off.

And many times, you had been the one onto who Duncan had slept the hangover off.

The reason why your father didn’t like Duncan was because many times you hadn’t come home, just to help Duncan through this.

He thought at first, when you had simply shrugged it off of passing the night at Duncan’s house, that you were having sex, and with you being his only daughter, and his wolfish instincts being extremely protective, he had dreaded the thought of Duncan deflowering you.

But he understood that many girls your age went through these experiences, and that it would be extremely overbearing of him of stopping you from doing your own experiences, on your own.

And then one day, he had caught you trying to get an half-wolf Duncan to his house, and that night it was the first time you had thoroughly fought and it was the first and last time that you had felt like you were different also from him.

‘… he might hurt you! Werewolves are already difficult when they turn, fucking smashed and turned isn’t a good combo!’.

‘He loves me dad, he wouldn’t hurt me!’.

You thoroughly knew that you had sounded like a drama queen.

‘What you don’t understand is that witches will be for ever werewolves’ enemies! He might not reason and hurt you, thinking you are the fucking enemy! Why can’t you just understand it and be fucking normal!’.

You hadn’t talked with him for a month because of that.

But this was all to say that you quickly recognized Duncan’s wolf shape and weren’t afraid in the slightest till you saw him launching himself towards you, looking like he had seen a prey.

You tried to distance yourself, but the mate bond anchored you in place, alongside the confusing emotions crashing through your head, holding you in a hypnotizing grip and making you almost sick.

And definitely unable to move away, Duncan launched himself against you, pushing you to the ground.

He didn’t only weight, effectively stealing your breath, but he also started trying to scratch your neck, which you covered, raising your arms and swiftly being cut by his paws, a scream of pain exiting your mouth, meanwhile you tried to conjure any kind of strength to push him off with your legs.

With magic it would have been easy, had you been able to focus on anything else that wasn’t losing your life and for the first time in your whole life, you were afraid of Duncan: he had lost the control of himself and lost himself in the wolf.

“Duncan… shit… get over it!” you tried, hoping that your voice would have some effect on him, but he kept his attack, even growling at you and showing you his sharp teeth, meanwhile you tried to kick him back, finally understanding why your father had been so damn worried “… I am (Y/N), your mate, you stubborn asshole”.

This somehow got him to stop his actions and you landed effectively a kick that sent him away, enough to hold your breath, meanwhile you murmured and enchantment of protection, although maybe you should have tended to the gashes on your arms, blood dripping copiously from them.

You definitely felt light-headed, but had to deal with Duncan first, who was squealing on the ground, in pain, not only for your kick, but because you felt himself shifting through his wolf form, and back to his human one.

You went from a state of confusion to embarrassment as Duncan appeared on the ground, naked.

Certainly, something had grown in ten years.

Focus, (Y/N).

“… you fucking ass” you muttered under your breath, meanwhile Duncan rolled onto his side, painfully pushing his knees onto his stomach, in a fetal position.

You knew that the transformation, mostly if happening suddenly, was extremely painful and certainly took quite some time

Enough that you retreated to get a blanket for him, knowing that some senses were dulled, meanwhile others were intensified, and you wanted him to keep some semblance of modesty.

As you covered him he seemed to completely get himself back, breathing deeply, spitting out earth, probably eaten in his wolf-journey.

“… that sucked” he mumbled, gently curling around the cover, instinctively hiding himself under it, for which you were thankful.

“You have probably pissed the ghosts haunting the house” you replied, although you were sure he wouldn’t understand your humor, meanwhile he adjusted himself in a sitting position.

“I thought you said this place wasn’t haunted, when we came!” he surprised you, actually remembering the past and effectively making you blush.

“… I might have lied” no you knew that the place wasn’t haunted, because you had actually been at haunted place and this didn’t peg you as such.

He sent you a terrorized look, highly exaggerated, that made you erupt in a laughter, one that hadn’t happened in a long time, making Duncan join quickly, although he kept his gaze onto you, as if he wasn’t truly amused by your laugh, but he was enamored with it.

You managed to led him to your car, barely covered by the simple blanket.

“Can’t believe that the old man let you drive this” mumbled Duncan looking around, and probably remembering that time, during that month of not talking, when you had stolen the key of your father’s precious vintage car, just to run away with Duncan and to decide to come back by dawn.

Your father was waiting for you on the threshold and had immediately hugged you.

“… it was either me or destroying it” you mumbled, meanwhile you quickly turned the ignition on, and pushed the manual brakes, you tried not to crush because you were unfocused, due to Duncan’s presence.

“I would have gotten it destroyed…” he joked, and you jabbed him with a slight push onto his shoulder “… you do remember that time we almost crashed against a tree, because you had forgotten the brakes”.

“You were kissing me, you were the one who almost got us to crash against a tree” you replied, shooting him a meaningful look, which got a playful glint in his eyes “…where can I bring you?”.

“My apartment, the one outside the city” he explained, his gaze suddenly shifting in front of the horizon, which got you a bit sad, for him, because he clearly looked like he was going through a rough period, and you knew how much they would bring you down.

“Don’t you have some friend or ex-girlfriend who doesn’t hate you, where I could drop you off?” you asked trying to keep your tone neutral, and your gaze on the road “… you have just gone through an unscheduled transition, it isn’t good for you to be alone”.

“Well the fact is that I actually want to be alone…” his tone didn’t admit any reply, but you didn’t allow him to stay that way.

“… I am not leaving you alone, right now, Duncan, I might not like you, but you look like you went through hell and I am not leaving you alone, ok?”.

“You don’t have to worry about me” his tone was almost whine-y and you turned around just swiftly to make sure he knew that you were meaning what you said.

“I don’t worry about you, but you are a nice Sheriff and I don’t want to have to deal with Annette” at the mention of the mother, Duncan’s mouth straightened in a thin line, but he simply nodded, surrendering to your idea, meanwhile he shifted on the opposite part of his car seat.

He seemed almost sleepy and when you opened the door to help him out, he was slightly startled but didn’t accept your hand to move out, which honestly annoyed you, but you tried not to show it

You cast some more protection spells all around your house, since you thought that Duncan might not like being caught half-naked, walking in his enemy’s house.

“Sat down on the sofa, I am getting you some clothes and towels so that you can shower a bit, you smell of shit”.

“I might have stepped on some, in the forest” his tone was apologetic, and although you wanted to keep on being pissed with him, you just shook your head and moved to collect some of your father’s clothes and some towels, which you left in the bathroom.

You didn’t have to show Duncan the way, since he seemed to remember it

After your father had accepted your relationship with Duncan, he had suggested that instead of getting drunk and crashing yourself against trees, you stayed at home when he had meetings of the Council.

Once your father had gotten himself over the ‘you are deflowering my daughter’ phase, he had seemed to be finally able to accept Duncan, who he had treated as a son, and Duncan had seemed to appreciate the treatment, since he, himself, didn’t have a strong father figure.

You had lost your virginity on one of those nights, when your father was away from the Council: you still remembered Duncan having stolen a bottle of awful red wine, paired badly with pizza and fries, but you hadn’t cared, mostly because you had loved him so so much by that time (you now blamed the wine), and after the dinner had lead him to your room, gently kissing him, meanwhile he treated you like a princess.

It had been awkward and painful, you didn’t want to lie.

Although Duncan had had more experience, it hadn’t prepared you both from what had been going down, but at the end of the night, you hadn’t cared and you had simply loved him with all your heart and had told him, receiving no answer.

Again, you hadn’t cared.

Your sixteen year old-self was an idiot.

Meanwhile you were thinking this, you were startled by the low whistle of your teapot, signaling that your water for the tea was ready and Duncan appeared in a simple white shirt and blue sweatpants on the threshold, probably startled by the teapot like you.

“Can I help you?”.

A thrill due to the cold air in your house went down your spine, probably due with all the time you had spent outside of it, and since it was pretty big and you lived alone, it wasn’t the nicest and definitely not the warmest.

“... can you start a fire, in the chimney?”.

He didn’t reply, getting himself to work and quickly moving away, already onto the little wardrobe where wood for the chimney was stored, meanwhile you collected the good silverware for the tea, knowing that Duncan wasn’t used to anything else.

“Do you want something to eat?”.

“My stomach is still trouble, but thank you for your offer” he replied immediately, meanwhile you brought the tea service in the room, already warmed up by the gentle cradling of the fireplace, where Duncan was setting up the latest logs of wood, and met you halfway onto the sofa.

He assumed a relaxed position on it, meanwhile you kept onto its handle, pushing your favorite mug in your hand, after you had offered one to Duncan, who sniffled it suspiciously.

“… what is it?” he asked, meanwhile you just gazed at him wickedly.

“A potion to make you forget who you are” although you were obviously joking, Duncan gawked at you, before you slumped a big gulp of whatever was in your mug “… it’s green tea idiot”.

Corrected with honey.

Duncan looked at you ashamed, and swiftly gulped down also a big drink, effectively burning his tongue and splutter half the tea on your floor, meanwhile you giggled.

“That is what you get for thinking that I would trick you in my home” you giggled giddy, strangely feeling like you had come back to when you and Duncan were nothing more than lovers “… that would mean too much trouble: can you imagine having to drag your body out… and again I don’t want to deal with Annette…”.

Duncan’s gaze shadowed and he quickly turned away, also pushing himself onto the handle of the sofa.

“Annette is not my real mother”.

Shock went through you, because you knew it was the truth, although Duncan hid his eyes from you.

You had never thought that whatever him and Annette had was something healthy, but you had always thought that you might not have been fair with her mostly because she had never liked you before, but it was extremely obsessive the way they looked for the other.

So, you knew perfectly how much it must have hurt Duncan.

“… I… didn’t know, Duncan” it was you who moved towards the middle, meanwhile Duncan pushed down on the table the mug, and hid his face turning it to the opposite side.

“Neither did I” his tone beheld anger and sadness and regret, all mixed together and it broke your heart, even more because you knew perfectly how he felt, because of the mate bond “… Claire, our opposition in the clan reunions brought up the fact that I needed to ask with Annette about ‘where I come from’. And I did, thinking that maybe my mother had cheated on my father… or… he had cheated on her… and… no, it turned out I am the maid’s son, she took over, because my real mother couldn’t take care of me”.

The Shepherds had never been the picture-perfect family, although they resembled it strongly, but you understood that this kind of revelation might have had a truly devastating effect on Duncan, who gently pushed himself onto his feet.

“… it was a bad idea to remain here” he mumbled, but you stopped him shooting out your hand to grab his effectively.

“She might not be your biological mother, but this doesn’t change that she brought up as her son, that is what makes family: we chosen to love another, no matter the fact that it’ll make us suffer”.

Your father had done it.

Your mother hadn’t.

So, you knew what Duncan was going through, you had been there.

“You don’t understand!” he shot back angered, his grip on your hand becoming painful and you felt that the violence had brought the cuts to open your mind, since it brought back the memories of the pain and your magic couldn’t hold it back “I am not a true Shepherd! I am just some fake nobody… now I understand why Bill said ‘I wasn’t one of them’ “.

You would have gladly punched Bill in that moment.

You would have gladly punched Billy in any moment.

“Duncan you are not being reasonable” you tried to calm him down, mostly because you didn’t want him to turn back, since it could be dangerous for his body and because the anger festering in the mate bond was making you sick and weak.

“Well… you wouldn’t be reasonable too, if you had discovered that all your life was a lie” he sputtered back, and you had enough.

“Well…. I did” you had enough “… I met my mother in a club of New Orleans, I knew it was her, because dad had a photograph of her, and one night, when I was out I found her… I thought that maybe she would have recognized me, she knew something about me… because dad kept sending her letters, but to her… I wasn’t nothing more than a stranger… did it hurt like my heart was being ripped form my heart? Fucking yes, I was the blood of her womb… and she wished I never existed. But I had my father”.

Duncan was looking at you in the eyes as if he was shocked: you had never talked about your mother, and it was as if you hadn’t ever cared about her, and Duncan had never asked: he hadn’t expected you to have such a complex relationship.

“… I never knew”.

“We weren’t on speaking terms for ten years, Duncan” you didn’t want this to weight on him “:..I know that this might be heavy on you, but you don’t have to forget about anything else, and the people around you. Annette might not be your mother, but she loves you…”.

“I just…” he huffed, lightly and you brought his hand in a gentle hold.

“You don’t have to be ok, I know it’ll take time, but you have me…” and you realized that you had let him see much more than your usual detached personality “… and others I am sure, now please let’s not talk about family anymore, ok?”

“Ok” he gently sit back in the sofa, comfortably snuggled against you, in the usual position you assumed as teenagers to cuddle, meanwhile a sudden embarrass washed over you, two, and you were almost thankful when blood appeared on your shirt and stained your sweater.

Duncan sniffled it immediately.

“Are you bleeding?” he asked, worried, before he reached for your arms, gently taking it in his hands so that he could examine it, and he raised your sweater, quickly revealing the gruesome cuts you had tried to heal with magic, although healing spells weren’t your favorite “Was I the one who did this? Shit, (N/N) I am so sorry…”.

You hadn’t heard that name in so long and that was probably why you were unable to react as Duncan quickly rushed out to get the first aid kid.

You had been the one who handled more bruises between the two, but Duncan knew where to get it, also, because mostly it held the pills you took on your period, when cramps hurt your body and you were unable to even get up to collect them.

The cut had stopped bleeding when Duncan walked in, worry shadowing his eyes, meanwhile he extremely delicately patched you up and you were only able to gawk at him, and when you shook yourself out of that, you just muttered.

“… I can heal myself, Duncan, you don’t have to….”.

“First of all… I know that I don’t have to, but I want to, and secondly, let me adjust what I broke…” his gaze became gently shy and almost sad, melancholy staring at you “… at least for what I can”.

You knew he was referring to the fact that had happened so many years ago, when he had broken your heart.

The one reason why, although your heart was shouting at you to kiss him and hug him and cuddle away his sadness, as you had always done when you were together, you just couldn’t.

You didn’t trust him.

You were definitely expecting him to break up your heart again.

“… it isn’t easy” you mumbled, as if you owed him an explanation.

“I know” he replied, looking at you in the eyes “… we were idiots”.

“You were an idiot” you retorted, kicking his shin lightly “… I was an amazing teenager”.

“You don’t obviously remember your mood swings, sweetheart” his reply got him another kick in his shins, which got him to improve his point, and giggle.

“You have lost your ‘sweetheart privileges’ a long time ago” you initiated the pillow fight, hitting him, meanwhile he put away the cotton wetted with alcohol to clean your wounds, to avoid a disaster, pushing you away, not even trying to fight to defend himself from you.

In the end Duncan stayed for the night, after you dined (and Duncan showed all his hunger basically eating up anything that you had in your fridge).

You wished each other ‘goodnight’s and moved away to your room and the guest room, respectively,, with Duncan almost joking that he was ‘in the doghouse’.

‘You are a dog, wherever you go, it’s a doghouse’ you had replied slamming the door against his face, and slowly slumping against him, as if you were Donna from “Mamma Mia” having faced your three ex-lovers.

You didn’t have three ex-lovers, but Duncan could be as complicated as three.

For the entirety of your staying in DC, you had been able to keep your distance, but right now… that you were faced with him in his most vulnerable state…

No, no you couldn’t just give up.

He had lied to you.

And what would stop him from doing that again?

Maybe the entire ‘my dearest mommy doesn’t trust me’ story was just a lie to get him to trust you…

But some part deep in you knew that you he wasn’t lying.

You got yourself ready for bed, and tried to ignore the ache in your body that the ‘fight’ with Duncan had awakened with you and wasn’t letting you sleep, no matter the fact that you pushed a pillow between your legs to sooth the ache between them.

A few minutes in it and you were rubbing yourself against the pillow, pathetically humping it.

You hadn’t been this horny since you were sixteen.

Your fight with your horny-self ended up being interrupted by a quick knocking on your door.

Was Duncan in need of you to help him settle in bed?

“(Y/N)” Duncan’s voice surprised you since it was extremely husky and hoarse and you wondered whether he had had a nightmare and had waken up from it.

“Do you need a fairytale before going to sleep” you tried to brighten up the atmosphere, getting up from the bed and readjusting your elegant vintage nightgown, a gift for your birthday from Madison.

But before you unlocked the door, you felt a light tap against it, and Duncan growled through the door, mumbling a ‘don’t open’.

“I need to leave, (Y/N)” he simply commented, surprising you.

“Duncan, you are not in a good mood…”.

“Well now I am one ever worse” he uttered annoyed “… I just entered a heat”.

Oh.

Shit.

Heats were something adult werewolves went through at least three times a year and usually they were more due to external events than truly the need to impregnant their fertile mates, mostly stress and hormones, alongside also age and their rhythm of life.

“… turning this sudden and away from the full moon might have triggered it and being this close to my mate is not a good thing, alongside you not wanting me here, in this state…”.

Which was true, because heats meant that werewolves wouldn’t stop till their females were pregnant and you barely were able to stay in the same room with Duncan without hurling sarcasm at him.

“… I still would feel better if you might stay here” because heats made your mind hazy, alongside the fact that you didn’t want him to truly leave.

Maybe it was your body simply reacting to heat, but you wanted so desperately to open the door for him, and let him in.

Even if you know this might end up with you heartbroken…

And if you did end up being heartbroken you might get some nice sex out of it.

Hadn’t Duncan lost his touch.

You slowly opened the door, revealing a rather confused Duncan looking at you behind pleasure-hooded eyes, darkened by desire and some kind of bestial ferocity that sent molten liquid down the little nest between your legs.

And with the way he sniffled the air, you knew he knew.

“Go back, inside, (Y/N)” he ordered, but you just shifted closer, meanwhile he crouched down in the ground, to set some distance between you two “… I can’t control myself, I’ll hurt you”.

“Oh, you already did” you said lowering yourself to his level and pushing your face next to his “… but what is the worst that this big bad wolf could do to a girl he has already hurt?”.

And before you could take in everything that was happening, he slammed you against the door of your room.

He looked at you as if he wanted to eat you.

You should have been afraid.

But you just felt excitement coursing through your veins.

And then Duncan kissed you.

You still remembered back in the day when you were teens and Duncan wasn’t the best kisser you had had: nothing too bad, he just rushed the entire process and didn’t let you enjoy all the sensations, but at the time you hadn’t minded, too taken in your conviction of wanting please him desperately.

But apparently Duncan had grown out of it, because he kissed you indeed with ferocity, but tasting you in the earnest pushing himself to explore you in a slow and sloppy way, as if he wanted to enjoy each and different part of your mouth, meanwhile he gently kept you against the door, his hand coming to your waist and pushing you against the door, meanwhile he rubbed himself against you.

He didn’t rut into you as he had done previously, although you didn’t hate those moments: they made you feel wanted and desired.

But this kind of growth he had had, seemed pretty promising, making you whine softly against his mouth.

He stole your breath with these kisses till his arms came around your legs, pushing them against your waist and raising slightly your nightgown, the only barrier of fabric against you, alongside your panties and his sweatpants.

“… I might be a beast, but I want to fuck you on a proper bed” he commented as soon as he realized how far the things had gone, pushing you down and gently entangling your hands together, by which you led him inside your room, almost feeling ashamed of the mess in it.

(And hoping he wouldn’t see all the clues you had collected about your father’s death).

You turned around and he was again upon you, and his hands went to your nightgown, pushing on it and you immediately got the hint, not wanting him to rip it, since it costed a small fortune and you quite liked it, throwing it onto the chair of your dressing table, moving to also retrieve his shirt.

There was a new intimacy between you, although Duncan’s gaze was purely animalistic.

As if you were rediscovering your bodies for the first time since forever.

As you brought your hands to remove Duncan’s shirt, they burned a path in his skin, caressing the soft planes of the defined skin, lightly peppered with brown and dark hair, ending in a happy trail that you followed till Duncan had enough.

He pushed you, almost shoving you in it, onto the bed, then before you knew it, he started worshipping your breasts.

Again, the comparison with your youth years was unavoidable: back in the day, Duncan had certainly liked your breasts, but he had never given them much attention, mostly tweaking them to help you reach your climax, but they had never been the main interest of Duncan, as he did right now, pushing his head between them and gently caressing them, before kneading them in his big hands.

And when he went to push a ripe nipple in his mouth, he looked at you in the eyes, as if he wanted to make sure that you watched him, completely hypnotized by the way his tongue swirled against you erect pebble, meanwhile he gently kneaded the other one.

He gave it one last tug with his teeth, making you arch in the bed, your pelvis searching his, but he pushed you down with a quick move of his hip, meanwhile the hand that wasn’t working on your nipples, went to your neck, giving it a slight pressure, so that you knew who was in charge.

He then moved his mouth on the other nipple, and you were gone, with your hands clawing the sheet, meanwhile the pleasure became too intense and you were brought back only by again a harsh bite that Duncan donned onto your hip.

It was rather harsh and you saw the mark blooming lightly in you skin, which got you to shoot him a confused and angered look, since you weren’t his mate… which you were, but you just wanted sex, not any claim.

He didn’t have any claim on you.

And he smirked at you like a little shit, before his fingers teased you over the lacey panties you had worn, deep blue and nothing special, but you hadn’t expected to be out of the house, hence…

But Duncan didn’t seem to mind.

“… shit you are fucking drenched” which you were, but you refused to look at him in the eyes, since you didn’t want to confirm or deny that, knowing that your cunt spoke louder than you did “… and I am the one in heat”.

“I am kicking you out, if you are just going to make fun of me” you mumbled, grunting lowly as he pushed a finger through the fabric, gently caressing your next, his skin against yours.

“I’ll be a gentleman” he smirked, showing you his elongated canines, and you just rolled his eyes as he pushed your body down the bed, as if you were nothing more than a motionless doll.

And he eased himself onto his elbow and before you knew it, he dipped a long lick onto your covered folds, making you buck into his face, suffocating his giggle, that send vibrations in your core.

Duncan hadn’t ever been truly attentive at your needs, and although this wasn’t the first time he had eaten you up, as with your breasts, it had been just to get ready for him, but as he dived more broad licks over your covered cunt, it seemed that he was doing it more because he liked to have you contorting against the bed than because he wanted to get you ready to take his length, with brushed against your bed, as he pounded lightly against it.

His heat getting the best of him.

He finally decided to stop the teasing and pushed your panties down your legs, and with the way he brushed against your legs, he left little thrills in their wake, which he knew, since he smirked at you as a self-assured bastard, before kissing you as he held your panties in his fingers.

This kiss was a debauchery in itself, Duncan languidly moving his mouth in an open-mouthed kiss, dipping it lightly between your lips, before he asked forgiveness, gently licking your lips, leaving you breathless and trembling, not knowing what was going on between you two.

You couldn’t help but feel cherished and loved.

Too bad it was just for a night.

And as he continued to kiss you so languidly, you were startled when he dipped his fingers in you, at first just his knuckle and you bit down on his bottom lip, enough to draw blood, more out of the surprise than because you wanted to.

But Duncan didn’t seem to mind.

He licked the blood, smirking at you, as his finger slipped even more in you, making you breath lightly, almost withholding your breath in your mouth, and then he proceeded to smear some on your cheeks, before he licked it, slipping his finger at its fullest in you.

And there, your hands immediately came onto his back and clawed onto his back, to grab onto something meanwhile pleasurable desire ran in your veins and this was enough for Duncan to lose the control, his finger curling into you, meanwhile he pushed himself away from your hold, dipping his head between your thighs.

You closed them immediately, feeling ashamed of how loose you had been: suddenly you were a sixteen-year-old again and you were letting your boyfriend see you naked for the first time.

You had never felt self-conscious since you had come back: you were one of those “puberty hit her” stories, but with Duncan in such an intimate situation, you couldn’t help but think about each thing he might notice about your body.

“It’s like you have never changed…” his nose slipping between your folds, sniffling your delicious smell, meanwhile he tried to force your legs apart, and gently you gave out under his praise “… and at the same time you are completely different”.

You turned your head to the side, ashamed, but you didn’t miss Duncan’s following words.

“I fucking want to discover you again, sweetheart”.

And then he dipped as a starved animal between your legs, his finger never retreating meanwhile his tongue teased your folds, before his mouth enveloped your clit.

Your head became dizzy by all the stimuli going through your body and you tried to breath, meanwhile Duncan made it harder and harder for you to focus, your eyes shifting closed from the heavenly vision of Duncan’s lips drenched with your juices, meanwhile your thighs became reddish, mostly in their inner’s part for his beard.

You were sure you would also have some pretty evident marks, with the way he tightened the hold onto your thighs, and although it wasn’t painful, the pressure kept you anchored to the ground.

You were thoroughly thankful for whoever had taught Duncan those techniques.

All it took for you to come was Duncan gently pushing another finger into you, scissoring them, in a delicious stretch that made you arch your body against the mattress, meanwhile you mewled heavenly and when you thought that you had reached the extreme pleasure, he curled his fingers in you and you shot up, feeling extremely sensitive, and at the same time detached from your body.

You were floating in a sea of sensation that came crashing through your body, and you fell hardly, and worst of all, feeling yourself leave some kind of moisture between your thighs, which shone brightly onto Duncan’s face.

Again, feeling sixteen and having had sex for the first time, you blushed scrunching your face away from Duncan, who just smirked, moving a hand to his face to collect your juices.

“Fucking taste like honey” he muttered, making you turn away from him, but he obliged you to face him and he kissed you, sharing some of your more intimate secrets with you, and you had to admit that you did taste like honey.

With an accent of cinnamon.

“… do you…?” usually when Duncan ate out to you, you would return the favor, but he just pushed you down the bed, making you giggle at his eagerness, definitely heightened by your taste.

“No, I need to fucking have you” and his hand stormed to your nightstand, expecting to find condoms, just to be surprised by your collection of hair ties “… shit, I don’t have any on me”.

“I am clean and on birth control” you muttered, meanwhile you guided Duncan’s hand down your body, till it met the wetness seeping again through you, making him growl “… and I know that you must be pristine clear to avoid any scandal”.

He nodded, and seemed sincere, but you also had again other protection spells for that and casted one under your breath, making Duncan roll his eyes, but he continued softly rubbing you, before he kissed you gently, laying a few good kisses between anything that stood in his path from your neck to collarbones.

“… do you need a spell to get it up?” you joked, seeing his hesitance and you weren’t ready for what would happen next.

Duncan pushed himself against you, through his sweatpants and you understood that he definitely didn’t need your help.

“Keep on teasing me, sweetheart and I’ll fuck the brat out of you” he threatened you, nipping your neck, before he pushed back just to relieve himself of his pants.

He was definitely smug that you were again surprised by his length.

“You ego isn’t the only thing that grew” you mumbled, and he gently pushed you against the bed, till you hit the headpiece with your back and he smirked, pushing you in order for you to sit on his laps, brushing your slit with his length in a teasing motion that brought you to complain with moans and beg him with your eyes.

“You must be truly desperate if you are begging me like this, begging your mortal enemy”.

“I liked you when you were less cocky” you replied, punching his chest and he caught your hand as he suddenly realized that you would be hitting again and brought you gently in a soft kiss, meanwhile he pushed you so that you were hovering over his length.

And as he connected your lips, he pushed into you.

And you moaned loudly in the kiss, making him smirk, meanwhile he gave you enough time to adjust to his length, which you did closing your eyes and trying to focus on the sensation.

The stretch in this case was definitely more painful, and you had to take a few minutes to relax around him and when you did…

… Duncan gave you all he had.

He pounded in you, making your hips buckle up and your ass bounce up, meanwhile you attempted to ride him, although you didn’t have much power over him and was just able to push your nails onto his arm, meanwhile you tried to steady your body.

He was gently stimulating your clit, with the brush of his pelvis against it, but he still wasn’t hitting your deepest point, mostly because his thrust were faster than actually shallow, enough to make you feel pleasure, but you were stuck in a limbo.

And Duncan seemed to see it.

Not even breaking a sweat, he changed the pace, and suddenly his thrust were more shallow, focusing on penetrating you further in a slower rhythm, that got you to truly see the stars, and this time you had to hug his torso to still yourself, moaning and leaving open-mouthed kiss onto his burning skin.

He pushed away the hair from your face and gently pushed further into you, pulling on your hair and before you knew it, you were shoved onto the mattress, with your stomach on it, as Duncan entered you form behind, pulling onto his hair, and making you finally remember that he was in fucking heat.

This way the angle he could hit was definitely deeper not to talk about the fact that he had lost himself in an extremely dangerous rhythm that made you feel like you were losing your own mind, hazy by pleasure and barely feeling the pain in your back for the hurtful position.

“You are eating me up perfectly” commented Duncan “… I can’t wait to fill you, fucking breed your womb”.

You were startled by his words and also Duncan seemed to understand he might have gone far, stilling in his thrusts, and this got you to breath and formulate a coherent thought.

“… I am sorry”.

“This doesn’t exit the bedroom” your tone was dead serious “… but I liked it”.

“You were always kinkier than I thought” he grinned, pushing again back into you, his hips slapping harshly your ass, as he pushed himself to kiss your shoulder, in a stranger comforting way, meanwhile you felt him twitch in you “… daddy’s little girl is a little whore, isn’t she?”.

“Shut up, little werewolf” your protest was weak, since you were nearing your own end and when you finally did, it felt even more explosive than the previous one you had had, mostly because now it was definitely much stronger.

You felt your walls clenching Duncan’s cock and he wasn’t much behind you, joining in the mind-blowing orgasm, not only his knot effectively swelling in yourself and his cum pushing itself in you, some even dripping outside your thighs.

And the sensation of it was almost too much in your ecstasy filled brain and you almost felt like blacking out a bit.

When you finally came down, you managed to collect yourself, feeling suddenly a heavy body on yours, realizing that Duncan had fallen onto your back, also a bit overtaken by the pleasure, enough to forget his surroundings, like you.

And he was only brought back by you pinching him, which got him to almost kick you for the startle and you giggled softly, your voice hoarse after sex.

He mumbled a little threat, with no bite, before he kissed and turned you around so that he could hug you, keeping himself sheathed inside him, since he had to wait for the knot to disappear.

“… you have gotten better” you mumbled softly, meanwhile you hid yourself in the crook of his night, and he laid a soft kiss on your forehead.

These weren’t the gestures two friends had for each other, only lovers acted like that.

But you knew you could never be that again.

“… and you haven’t changed deep deep down” he commented brushing your hair away in a soothing way, meanwhile you felt both your lids heavy for the tiredness, drifting into a peaceful slumber “… still the little girl who taunted and teased me”.

You thought that the words that followed were just because of your slumber.

“… the same girl… I loved”

[ohlookasadliltraumabunny]

Intro?

I haven’t kept a blog since I had a xanga when I was a kid, so I’m awkward and shit. Anyway, I’m not going to put my real name on here, so why don’t you guys just call me L (or liltraumabunny I guess. I know my username is long. no clue why, I just really like bunnies).  

This blog is basically going to serve as a platform for me to vent/talk about my PTSD that resulted from a very abusive relationship that I was in for six years. Me and, we’ll call him B, broke up three years ago, but the healing process is likely going to take a lot longer than that. He was a narcissist, he was manipulative, he was sexually abusive, and he gaslit me to the point where I STILL question whether or not I remember it right. I was also going through a very severe bout of my depression during the tail end of our relationship, and when I FINALLY started to get better, he very clearly did not like it. 

Due to the PTSD, and the depression and anxiety I struggle with, my memory is pretty screwed up. There is A LOT of repressed memories in my head and I’ve compared trying to find my way through it like trying to navigate a sail boat on choppy waters with high winds and such thick fog that you can’t really see a few feet in front of you. Because of the memory loss, the part of my mind he programmed to question my own reality constantly demands proof. I have weeks where I’m fine and weeks where I’m just trying to remember why I cried myself to sleep that one time five years ago.

I’m in a very healthy relationship now, we even just got engaged, (we’ll call my fiance C) and he has really helped me through all this shit. He is supportive, he is kind, empathetic, and he listens to me when I need it. We’re getting married next summer and I’m so ready to start my life with him. I want to leave all this rotten shit behind, even though I know that’s not really going to happen because the mental abuse left so many scars in its wake.

I’m looking into finding a therapist for all this shit. My doctor recommended I see my therapist that knew me during my depression and relationship with B and who I saw when my relationship with C started up. She was a wonderful help, but she’s not within my health insurance network. But I need better coping mechanisms than spotify playlists, writing poetry and making weird doodles. 

So that’s what this blog will be in a nutshell. I won’t be posting what my main blog is here, but if anyone really wants to know you can always PM me. There are going to be triggers here, especially because sometimes the way I cope is by writing things in painful detail. I’ll be sure to tag them and make a list of them at some point. I don’t really know anything about actually running a real blog that isn’t just a fun, chill thing so if you have any suggestions, please let me know! Especially because this stuff is very sensitive and could trigger some folks. 

On top of posting original content, I will reblog things that resonate with me, too. This includes memes and some dark ass humor, folks. I’m hella sarcastic so sometimes it’s helpful for me to laugh rather than cry. 

I will also try to post some happy stuff, too, when I feel it. C has been so incredibly helpful and sometimes I just feel really happy and joyous that I found him and he found me. I’ll also post about progress and if/when I start seeing a therapist, any progress that comes through there too. 

 Anyway, that’s a little peak into what this blog is going to be. If anyone read this, cool beans. If not, doesn’t even matter bc I already kinda feel like I’m shouting into the void ^.^

<3 

[bigmoodword]

11/11/11 Tag

tagged by @silver-wields-a-pen -- thanks a bunch! this was so thought-provoking.

1. Who is your favourite oc? 

probably a toss-up between the two oldest:

a werewolf who hides his cold-burning hate behind a sweet smile and endless offers to make bitchin’ cups of tea/coffee/poison/cocoa

an immortal with unhealthy escapist tendencies, livin’ that long life as if EXTRA is their personal motto

at this point, they’ve run through several names each. here’s hoping i finally set 'em in stone sooner rather than later.

2. What themes do you struggle writing? 

healthy, established romance. i can do flirtation and doomed relationships, but actually solid relationships are a whole different beast. it’s kind of funny, because although there are plenty of problems to work through even in the best relationship, i have a tendency to tidy them with too nice a bow. lucky me, that’s my life experience, but it doesn’t make for the most engaging story.

3. What’s been the best thing about writing your wip?

striking creative oil. it’s wonderful to be so enamored with an idea that all my doubts dissipate and the words just... flow. it’s a feeling i remember from childhood, and it’s a relief to know it can still strike.

4. What themes has your favourite story included? 

survivor’s guilt. betrayal. missed opportunities. miscommunication. learning to let go. learning how to love oneself. abuse. wearing a mask. class struggles. systemic oppression. the importance of hope--whatever that ultimately means for you.

honestly, these tend to pop up in all my stories to varying degrees.

5. What time of day do you prefer writing?

i tend to switch between the night owl and early bird approaches. the former pops up when i’m on a serious roll, the latter when i’ve hit a rhythm of jotting down a few hundred words over coffee.

6. What’s your favourite relationship trope to write? 

a very specific kind of unrequited love. like the two are this 👌 close to actually coming together--they’d honestly be pretty great!--except they fail to communicate mutual interest so each assumes the other isn’t. or maybe they’re too preoccupied with their own issues to have a good relationship, so temptations aside, one or both decide it’s better to pass. it’s the idea of “maybe in another life” or “if only we’d met x years ago or y years from now.” can’t get enough of it!

7. What detail about your ocs has surprised you? 

they’re all so messed up. i mean. granted, most of them are born by taking a personality flaw (whether my own or one i struggle to understand) to a certain extreme, but even those that start on an even keel inevitably hit a significant low point. i think it’s an extension of the idea “everybody’s got something” but i hope someday i can manage to have a character that’s both interesting and well-adjusted throughout.

8. Thoughts on including romance in other genres? 

i’m ace, so romance often misses the mark for me. the fact my favorite romantic trope is two people not ending up together probably says a lot on its own. more specifically, unless the romance really adds to the wider story, i prefer it in the background. i think of certain characters flirting and growing closer as sprinkles atop the main plot’s cupcake.

9. Favourite writing snack? 

coffee! i don’t tend to snack much in general, especially not when writing, but i’m always game to break out the bean juice.

10. Favourite villain trope? 

the anti-villain. as a huge “fan” of gray morality, i guess that’s pretty darn predictable. while obviously i’m not here to root for villains, i like to understand them. i think it’s important to recognize how an otherwise good person becomes villainous, and i also have a certain affection for reformed villains. j/s

11. Best scene you’ve written? 

oooo. that’s a good one. i’m not comfortable calling anything my “best” scene, but i tend to favor those where major plot points finally intersect. here’s one i still quite like--

background: urban fantasy, slayer organization, investigation into a recently caught perp

trigger warning: implied sexual abuse

Sven didn’t bother returning Nina’s call until he was in the werewolf’s ritzy apartment, and when she picked up, she immediately reported how the guy had copped to lying throughout his first interview.

As he examined the titles in the bookcases, Sven figured that meant his perp was smart enough to recognize a boon. The asshole who’d put him in a wheelchair had also thrown him a softball cover story, and if he played along, his pack wouldn’t get hurt. Lucky puppy.

Yet Nina remained skeptical. She specified how Nate—that beacon of truth—had caught the werewolf talking on the sly about a little friend. He wouldn’t just make that up, so of course she expected him to search high and low for any proof. Just in case.

He promised he’d do his best then sat cross-legged before the shelves. He put the phone on speaker, set it on a dizzyingly ornate rug, and began pulling books out. One by one, he’d flip robotically through the pages, looking for anything of note.

Meanwhile, Nina’s voice lost its authoritarian edge, “What was up before?”

“Nothing important. Just a guy. Lonely. Works at the hotel.” Having said the words, he tried not to picture her growing smirk. “One thing led to another and…”

“Good for you.” A pause. “Hey. Hey, Sven. Was he cute?”

“Quite.”

“'Quite.’” He could hear her rolling her eyes. “And? Did you, well, have a good time?”

“Debatably.”

“Huh.” Nina thought aloud, “See, you were awfully mad at me when I called you before. That would imply that you were, in fact, having a good time. Otherwise, you would’ve appreciated the excuse, right? Right. But you didn’t. Since we’re talking about you, that means something.”

He snorted.

“Really! It does, and I hope you didn’t just run this poor guy off, you know? You should try meeting up again. Do a little wine and dine. Something nice. Classy. You have that red sweater that looks nice; you should wear that.”

Sven looked down at said sweater. “… Right. Well, I gave him my number, so we’ll—”

“Damn, Sven! He must’ve been really cute!”

He remembered Drake’s anxious wiggling and cracked a smile. “Yeah, he was pretty damn cute.”

Bit by bit, he shared details, and Nina nearly blew out his phone’s speaker with a squeal. She insisted others would give up their firstborn for the kind of porno romance he apparently lived, and her office chair creaked as she huffed a triumphant sigh. She was so animated about the whole thing, as if it’d happened to her instead of him, and however briefly, he thought maybe he felt a fluttering of that same enthusiasm. He wanted to, anyway. 

Even after hanging up, something twisted in his gut every time he thought about Drake calling or, hell, simply sending a three-letter text. But realistically, that was as likely to be dread as giddiness.

With pen and pad, Sven made notes about bookmarked passages as well as the odd comment in the margins, then restored each book to its original slot. Likewise, he compiled the contents of drawers, filing cabinets, and closets. He’d come prepared to scrub the evidence, but apparently, the evidence already suggested the werewolf lived alone. 

There were no articles of clothing that deviated from the rest of his wardrobe. The master bath featured a single toothbrush, and the kitchen just enough rotting food to feed a particularly voracious adult male. He couldn’t even find a hair that wasn’t deep brown and short.

He bagged a phone and tablet for further examination, then muttered to himself about how he really should’ve done at least that much beforehand. That is, the first time he visited the apartment, but no. He’d made his catch, handed the perp off, and disappeared for a long run in the Boston fog like a coward.

To be fair, the place still gave him the creeps. It bothered him that the overturned furniture, smashed vase, and cracked mirror were all exactly where he’d left them. There were blood stains too. Deep brown and foul.

In a small safe, he found jewelry, yellowed woodcuts, and a first edition copy of Leaves of Grass. Extraordinary, sure. Cataloged, absolutely. Yet, save for the werewolf’s budding psych profile, such finds were also woefully meaningless.

He moved on to the lockbox dug out from under the king-sized bed. As with the safe, he was able to pop it open without too much difficulty, but unlike the safe, its contents raised eyebrows. 

Polaroids. Hundreds of them aggressively rubber-banded into tidy stacks, all meticulously sorted. He held his breath as he unwrapped the first only to exhale a bitter “of course” at the revealed photos.

The shots lacked faces. Just bodies. All slender. All male. All dubiously legal. Twisted. Bound. Violated. Every single one manipulated with an escalating ingenuity. Clearly, the werewolf considered it an art-form. 

After that first stack, Sven quickly flipped through the others. He was convinced the whole stash was worthless. None of the subjects had tattoos, piercings, or any significant scarring. No one depicted could be reasonably identified. He was wasting his time.

But he had to make sure, and the deeper he waded, the more his shoulders tensed, the more he felt walls close in. He caught himself listening for heavy footsteps outside the door.

Childish. At its heart, it was all so childish. 

And pointless.

Then he found a stack with a face. He found Drake.

My questions

1. Who was your first OC? 2. What was the first story you ever wrote? 3. What book (or other piece of media) has most inspired you? 4. How do you fight writer’s block? 5. What is your favorite genre to write in and why? 6. How would you describe your writing style? 7. In general, do you think you’d get along with your protagonists? 8. What do you love most about your WIPs? 9. What is your favorite character trope? 10. What is your least favorite character trope? 11. What’s an upcoming scene you’re excited to write? Tagging: @mvcreates ; @whataremetaphor ; @phloxxiing ; @gaytivity ; @jessica-shouldbewriting ; @oyef ; @blurrywhitelies ; @savannahscripts ; @imaghostwriter ; @quilloftheclouds ; @maabon

[dontgobreakingmyart]

Fanfiction: Why Is It So Popular?

As someone on tumblr, you probably know what fanfiction is and know why it is popular. My AP Literature teacher, however, wasn’t so informed. 

My senior year, we were required to write a research paper about a trend. Some people did the rate of divorce, others did the increase of body modification and someone even did the death of Pokemon Go. 

Our teacher recommended that we chose a topic that we were familiar with, and my first 2 thoughts were fanfiction and anime. I had already had a friend that had done anime the year the before, so I thought “why not?”

And thus, my senior paper was born:

March , 2018

Fanfiction: Why Is It So Popular?

INTRODUCTION:

Generally, the word “fanfiction” conjures an image of lonely hermits, obsessive fans, or even dangerous flirtation with copyrights, but lately, fanfiction has been given a new face―a face of validity, expression, and even publication. Since January 2012, the amount of fanfiction for just one fandom (a collection of fans supporting a certain medium) has increased an astonishing 1,154% (Pellegrini). Objectively, fanfiction is a fan-made story that contains strong elements of the original work, generally using the same characters, themes, and other various components. For example, there are numerous works based off Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, continuing on the story of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy; in fact, there has been a recent increase of published novels based on Pride and Prejudice of 32% since 2015 (“List of Literary Adaptations of Pride and Prejudice”). Why? Because fans were not satisfied with the original content; they wanted to see more of Elizabeth and Darcy’s relationship or they wondered what the characters would do in a zombie apocalypse or any other variation of “what if?” Fanfiction allows “amateur writers” to express their love for a book, tv show, game, etc., and whether it’s because of the lack of LGBT themes in most published works or the increasing ease of sharing their fiction, fanfiction writers are not likely to stop any time soon (Knorr).

BACKGROUND / HISTORY:

Although it might seem very unbelievable, fanfiction did not just start recently, or a couple decades ago, or in the 70s with that one Star Trek fanfiction. In fact, a good amount of older literature is fanfiction. If fanfiction is being defined as “any work of fiction that borrows major elements of another work of fiction,” then works such as Shakespeare’s Hamlet could technically count as fanfiction; Hamlet was originally an “ancient Scandinavian folk tale . . .[known as] ‘Vita Amlethi’ (‘The Life of Amleth’)” that Shakespeare not only re-wrote as a play, but inserted his own, personal experiences (Clark). The Iliad, The Odyssey, Oedipus Rex were all orally-told, Greek myths that someone decided needed to be written down. The only reason theses works are not recognized as “fanfiction” was because copyright was not as strict in that time and practically did not exist; after all, no one knows for sure who the real Shakespeare was because he did not officially claim his work. 

Fanfiction didn’t really become a label until Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes in the 1880s and with the birth of the internet, the famous Star Trek fanfiction. Officially, “the actual term ‘fanfiction’ was coined in 1939” and was used as an insult towards crudely written sci-fi fiction (Reich). In the late 90s and early 00s, rather than the “all-purpose” fanfiction cites today, “fans carved out their own little homes on the burgeoning internet. Star Trek fans here, X-Files fans there, Frasier fans somewhere else” (Hill). Most of those sites, however, have since died and have been replaced with the “all-purpose” ones like fanfiction.net. One of the most infamous modern fanfictions is E.L. James’ Fifty Shades of Grey. Although it is technically a published novel, James has admitted that her novel was simply a Twilight fanfiction that she had written and aftered so that she wouldn’t break the copyright (Morrison). The largest development to the world of fanfiction, however, was the birth of Archiveofourown.org in 2007, a fanfiction website that “promised stronger resistance to legal challenges” to fanfiction writers unlike other, previous websites such as fanfiction.net (Burt). With the creation of this site, older ones have begun to die out just like the fandom-centric ones of the past.

#1 REASON:

Over the years, fanfiction has morphed from a shameful pass time to a socially acceptable medium of expression. Published authors have been, in fact, recommending fanfiction as a positive way to start writing. The author of the Princess Diaries Meg Cabot came out about her fanfiction writing, saying, “I myself used to write Star Wars fan fiction when I was tween. I think writing fanfiction is a good way for new writers to learn to tell a story” (Romano). And many other famous authors have made a contribution to the fanfiction community: Cassandra Clare, author of Mortal Instrument Series; Orson Scott Card, author of Ender’s Game; S. E. Hinton, author of The Outsiders; Neil Gaiman, author of The Sandman Series, and so many others (O’Brien, Kovach). 

While visiting a Writing Workshop, the published author hosting it, Pamela Thibodeaux, encouraged me to begin writing and posting fanfiction in order to start a healthy fanbase, so that when I go to get a book published, the transition is much smoother. Writing fanfiction is just as stimulating as writing an original novel. In a CNN article about fanfiction, they explicitly stated that “even if the subject matter is a little blue [writing fanfiction] is a positive form of self-expression,” compelling parents to “encourage writing” (Knorr). In fact, the main difference between the two is that writing fanfiction “takes the pressure of world-building off” which allows the writer to explore their writing style without getting tangled up in creating something from scratch (McQuien). In a way, fanfiction is the box of cake mix in the literature world―it helps amateurs to take the first step of baking without getting too overwhelmed, but in the end, it can taste just as good.

#2 REASON:

As the overall acceptance and validity of fanfiction has increased, fanfiction has found its way into the publishing world, being branded as actual literature. Time-honored novels such as Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice have several published, fan-made additions and recreations of the original tale like Pride and Prejudice II: The Sequel by Victoria Park and Seth Grahame-Smith’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which was turned into a filmed phenomena in 2016 (“List of Literary Adaptations of Pride and Prejudice”). Although there have been many literary adaptations of this novel spanning as far back as 1932, there has been a 32% increase of published fanfictions just for this fandom (“List of Literary Adaptations of Pride and Prejudice”).

 Sir Arthur Conan Doyle has also witnessed this movement with his iconic Sherlock Holmes series, especially with the popular television series Sherlock, a “modernization” (or modern au [alternate universe] in fanfiction jargon) of the classic cases between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (“8 unconventional Sherlock Holmes adaptations”). These published fanfictions have been able to keep the trademarked names of their beloved characters, but many novels had to undergo extensive editing to cross the line of “fanfiction” into “literature.” 

One of the most famous, or rather infamous, examples of this is how E. L. James’ 50 Shades of Grey was originally a Twilight fanfiction (Morrison). Another, perhaps not as well known, is L. Stoddard Hancock’s Cruel and Beautiful World, which was heavily based off of J. K. Rowling’s beloved Harry Potter; in fact, her novel indulges the ship [romantic pairing] of Hermione and Draco, fondly known as “Dramione” in the Harry Potter fandom (Sarner). While some fanfictions have to undergo a facelift in order to be published, their true identity still remains intact: they are still devoted extensions to the esteemed works of another author.

#3 REASON:

Fanfiction has evolved greatly throughout history, and how to post fanfictions and share them with the world is just getting easier and easier. As mentioned prior, the creation of Archive of Our Own revolutionized the world of fanfiction with its promise of legal support, but how? In 2002, there was a great purging of fanfictions on the original fanfiction posting website, fanfiction.net, shaking the fanfiction community and dissuading writers from posting their fanfics (Silver). It was this sort of mass-banning on works that encouraged the creation of Archive of Our Own and its legal branch the “Organization of Transformative works” where they “clarify the legality of fanfiction, champion fan-created works whenever they were legally challenged, and provide fans with legal resources in case they were targeted by copyright claims” (Silver). In short, Archive of Our Own gave fanfic writers a safe place to share their fanfictions. 

Because of this difference with websites, despite the age difference and advantage Fanfiction.net may have with it, the increase of Harry Potter fanfictions on Archive of Our Own, for example, have increased 795% more than those on Fanfiction.net since 2010 (Pellegrini). Not only that, but Archive of Our Own has many other unique features that makes both writing fanfictions and reading fanfictions much more convenient such as tagging (Romano). Speaking from personal experience as a user of both Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own, although the first is not a bad place to read fanfiction, it is not nearly as user-friendly. For example, if I wanted to read a Harry Potter fanfiction, I could easily do so on both sites, but if I wanted to read a Harry Potter fanfiction that had the ship “Dramione” or had “zombies” or where Fred didn’t die, I can only specify those tags on Archive of Our Own to find that perfect fanfiction. And fanfiction sites are still continuing to expand, to shape, to mold themselves in order to fit the preferences of the ever-evolving writers that post on them.

#4 REASON:

The world of literature is a diverse melting pot of ideas and people, but even with this diversity, there are many minorities that are pushed to the side such as the LGBT community―in the world of fanfiction, however, they are the majority. Seeing LGBT often connotes inaccurate concepts, especially in literature, where one thinks “gay” when they see LGBT and then “the label of ‘gay’ often overshadows the important elements of the story/author, often tarnish[ing] the book before it can be read” (Guy). The LGBT community is so much more than just “gay,” and those different branches are very rarely explored in published literature, but in fanfiction, they florrish. 

Although majority of fanfiction does involve romance and a good amount of it involves couples of the same sex, that is not the only layer as is with most “gay” literature. In fanfiction, everyone is represented―if you want to read a fanfiction where the main character is asexual, where the main character is genderfluid, where there’s a polyromantic relationship, where someone is aromantic, bisexual; no matter what it is you want, I can almost guarantee it’s out there somewhere. The fanfiction website Archive of Our Own found that only 38% of their users were heterosexual, meaning that at least 62% belong to the LGBT community and more people identified as genderqueer than as male (Hu). Everyone wants to be represented in media, to have someone to relate to. 

The little gay literature that is there, is only just now being reprinted, falling out of print since the 80’s, and a good amount of it is being banned (Healey). For example, Amazon refused to sell a gay Victorian novel, claiming it was “pornagraphic,” yet they have an entire section for “erotic” fiction such as 50 Shades of Grey (Healey). With fanfiction, writers don’t have to worry about labels, whether a couple is straight or homosexual or genderqueer or whatever. Writers care about the stories, the chemistry between the characters that make them a dynamic duo, and with fanfiction, writers can share that.

CONCLUSION:

Fanfiction has existed for centuries with Sophocles's Oedipus Rex and Shakespeare’s Hamlet and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes and Star Trek and it shows no sign of stopping now. In fact, the amount of fanfiction hasn’t just increased because of its acceptance or its publication or the ease of posting, but because of new and continuous material. 

Before the release of BBC’s show Sherlock, there were fanfictions based on the original book, and the addition of the show allowed Sherlock Holmes and John Watson to become more familiar, and thus, more fanfictions to be added to the overall fandom. The same occured with the Harry Potter fandom. When Jack Thorne’s play Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (a published fanfiction continuing J.K. Rowling’s original series Harry Potter), fanfiction writers exploded with new material, new ideas, and new fanfictions; a total of 1,682 fanfictions concerning Harry Potter and the Cursed Child have been posted on Archive of Our Own since the play’s release date in 2016 (Search Results for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child). Due to the recent release of Voltron: Legendary Defender in 2016, there has been a staggering 5,054% increase of fanfiction for the show originally from the 80’s (Search Results for Voltron). 

With every reinstatement of a show, a new generation of potential fanfiction writers are exposed to it, adding on to the classic mediums other fanfiction writers wrote about before them such as Star Trek or Sex in the City, where there are still significant increases of 8,600% since 2005 and the show ended in 2004 (Kneale). Fanfiction increases because more and more people are being exposed to that world. Just as there will always be incoming literature and TV shows and movies, new fanfictions will be trailing in afterwards like a relentless shadow.

Works Cited

“Archive of Our Own Beta.” Archive of Our Own, www.archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=✓&work_search[query]=Harry potter and the cursed child.

“Archive of Our Own Beta.” Archive of Our Own, www.archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=✓&work_search[query]=Voltron.

Burt, Stephanie. “The Promise and Potential of Fan Fiction.” The New Yorker, The New Yorker, 23 Aug. 2017, www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/the-promise-and-potential-of-fan-fiction.

Clark, Cassandra. “‘Hamlet’ Origins: The Legend of Amleth.” Shake It Up, 28 June 2017, sfshakes.wordpress.com/2017/06/28/hamlet-origins-the-legend-of-amleth/.

“Eight Unconventional Sherlock Holmes Adaptations.” The Week - All You Need to Know about Everything That Matters, 29 Feb. 2012, theweek.com/articles/477729/8-unconventional-sherlock-holmes-adaptations.

Guy, Lauren. “What's the Point of LGBT Literature?” The University Times, 16 Oct. 2016, www.universitytimes.ie/2016/10/whats-the-point-of-lgbt-literature/.

Healey, Trebor. “Early Gay Literature Rediscovered.” Huffington Post, www.huffingtonpost.com/trebor-healey/early-gay-literature-redi_b_5373869.html .

Hill, Mark. “The Forgotten Early History of Fanfiction.” Motherboard, 3 July 2016, motherboard.vice.com/en_us/article/4xa4wq/the-forgotten-early-history-of-fanfiction.

Hu, Jane. “The Revolutionary Power Of Fanfiction For Queer Youth.” The Establishment, The Establishment, 16 May 2016, theestablishment.co/the-importance-of-fanfiction-for-queer-youth-4ec3e85d7519.

Kneale, Heidi. “Final Staff.” The Appeal of Fanfiction, July 2005, www.irosf.com/q/zine/article/10165.

Knorr, Caroline. “Inside the Racy, Nerdy World of Fanfiction.” CNN, Cable News Network, 5 July 2017, www.cnn.com/2017/07/05/health/kids-teens-fanfiction-partner/index.html.

Kovach, Catherine. “7 Authors Who Wrote Fanfiction.” Bustle, Bustle, 20 Mar. 2018, www.bustle.com/articles/160939-7-authors-who-wrote-fanfiction-because-its-actually-the-best.

“List of Literary Adaptations of Pride and Prejudice.” List of Literary Adaptations of Pride and Prejudice, ipfs.io/ipfs/QmXoypizjW3WknFiJnKLwHCnL72vedxjQkDDP1mXWo6uco/wiki/List_of_literary_adaptations_of_Pride_and_Prejudice.html.

McQuein, Josin L. “My Bloggish Blog Thing.” Novels vs. Fanfiction, 18 Apr. 2012, 12:53 PM, josinlmcquein.blogspot.com/2012/04/novels-vs-fanfiction.html.

Morrison, Ewan. “In the Beginning, There Was Fan Fiction: from the Four Gospels to Fifty Shades.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 13 Aug. 2012, www.theguardian.com/books/2012/aug/13/fan-fiction-fifty-shades-grey.

OBrien, David. “Famous Authors Who Began in Fan Fiction.” AUTHORS.me, 27 Oct. 2016, www.authors.me/famous-authors-began-fan-fiction/.

Pellegrini, Nicole. “FanFiction.Net vs. Archive of Our Own.” HobbyLark, HobbyLark, 15 Feb. 2017, letterpile.com/writing/fanfictionnet-vs-archive-of-our-own.

Pellegrini, Nicole. “FanFiction.Net vs. Archive of Our Own.” HobbyLark, HobbyLark, 15 Feb. 2017, letterpile.com/writing/fanfictionnet-vs-archive-of-our-own.

Romano, Aja. “10 Famous Authors Who Write Fanfiction.” The Daily Dot, 9 Mar. 2017, www.dailydot.com/parsec/10-famous-authors-fanfiction/.

Romano, Aja. “Is It Possible to Quantify Fandom? Here's One Statistician Who's Crunching the Numbers |.” The Daily Dot, 24 Feb. 2017, www.dailydot.com/parsec/toastystats-ao3-fandom-statistics/.

Sarner, Lauren. “This 'Harry Potter' Fan Fiction Author Adapated Dramione Into A Novel.” Inverse, 18 July 2016, www.inverse.com/article/15572-dramione-fandom-harry-potter-fan-fiction-romance-l-stoddard-hancock-broken-wings.

Silver, Farasha. “How Archive of Our Own Revolutionized Fandom.” FAN/FIC Magazine, 26 Mar. 2017, fanslashfic.com/2015/11/01/how-archive-of-our-own-revolutionized-fandom/.

Times, J.E. Reich Tech. “Fanspeak: The Brief Origins Of Fanfiction.” Tech Times, MENU$(".Topsearchbutton").Click(Function(){ $(".Srcframe").Toggle(); }); $('Input[Type="Search"]').Keypress(Function() { $("#Srcform").Submit(); });TechScienceHealthCultureReviewsFeatures, 25 July 2015, www.techtimes.com/articles/70108/20150723/fan-fiction-star-trek-harry-potter-history-of-fan-fiction-shakespeare-roman-mythology-greek-mythology-sherlock-holmes.htm.

[themildestofwriters]

Character Creation Tag

Tagged by the illustrious @gottaenjoythelittlethingzz and thought that it would probably best to get some kind of content out from my OCs. For this one, I plan on doing Josephine Williams because Babette Melwyn is a bit more complicated and divulges into territory that I do not wish to discuss when it comes to the creation of her character.

1) What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)?

Basic appearance and name. She was always a Josephine and she always had that general outline of appearance (Long curly brown hair; dark skin; that kind of stuff). The rest just developed over time and the more I considered Josephine critically.

2) Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

Yes. Josephine was thought up as someone who’d help begin Babette’s happy ending. I needed a character who’d bring out the best in Babette, who’d get her on track to healing whether through giving her the confidence to go through with therapy while also reconnecting her to humanity. I feel really bad for just creating a character who’s sole purpose is to be a love interest, but fortunately, I feel as if she’s much more than her original concept would have some think. There’s still much I need to develop around her, but the same can be true for other characters such as the two leads families and even the main character (Babette) herself.

3) How did you choose their name?

I always liked the name Josephine and I was inspired by the character of Josephine Montilyet from Dragon Age: Inquisition.

4) In developing their backstory, what elements of the world that they live in played the most influential parts?

She a lesbian woman of colour living in Australia, Earth (2016), there would be a lot influencing her. Her life isn’t abhorrent, but she does face issues that I’d rather not discuss here. What counts is that her family and friends love her and so do most the people she interacts with. This story won’t explore these themes as a main focus, because that’s not the point of the story, however they will be brought up and do effect her as a character.

5) Is there any significance behind their hair colour?

There’s nothing significant behind their hair colour. I like it, is all.

6) Is there any significance behind their eye colour?

Not really. I just thought the colour fit her character. Though, if you wanted to, you could just google “Green Eye Colour Meaning” and get a few links, one of which tells you that the symbolic meaning behind green eyes, but it won’t have much baring on the character aside from the fact they’re pretty.

7) Is there any significance behind their height?

Relationship Height Difference. One of my favourite tropes is where you’ve got a very tall character and a very small character dating because of all the cute things they can do. Originally, Josephine was something like… 5’5” or 5’6” but I changed it to 5’8” because a height difference, even if it is just 5” is adorable AF and I’m pleased I decided on this.

8) What (if anything) do you relate to within their character/story?

Well, aside from the fact that I’m quite literally giving her my High School life, not much else I’d say. Josephine’s quite a bit different then me and we’ve both had very different lives. She doesn’t live in a broken family, my brother still breaths (as far as I know), she doesn’t have any sisters, I’ve never had a relationship as successful as hers, she doesn’t have to worry about what her parents will think about her non-heterosexuality (she’s already out), I don’t really have a choice about my religious practices. About the closest things I could relate to about her is how I’ve written her dealing with people and noise and whatnot.

9) Are they based off of you, in some way?

*Looks up at the previous question* Nope, not really.

10) Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation? 

Due to her original concept being a companion for Babette, yes. I needed to create a character who’d not only be able to engage with Babette as a friend but also as a significant other. Josephine was always going to have a preference for women one way or another and it just seemed right to make her gay as well.

As monogamy vs polyamory, the choice was simply as not only is Babette monogamous (making a healthy poly relationship impossible) but I’m monogamous myself so the character trait was there from day one.

11) What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

Face claims. I could say the difficulties in finding how to write her character, but that can be worked on easily and I’ll be constantly improving my portrayal of this character. No, the real issue is that I can fecking find a good faceclaim that fits! Worse, I can’t do it for any of my characters!

12) How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all?

While I haven’t gone as far as mapping out before her birth and the preceding years after, I’ve gone far enough that I know when her story definitively ends and it’s incredibly heart-warming and cute and I can’t wait to write it! At some point, I might reach a point where I’ll decide to take a few days to just 100% full-dive into worldbuilding and fully flesh out these characters backstories in complete detail (events preceding conception to what grades they got in year 2 of Primary School) but until then, I know the basic outline of the events from their childhood to they’re old and greyed.

13) If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?

Her personality certainly. Without her personality, her entire position in the story changes and it would also effect how healthy the relationship is between Babette and Josephine as well as the overall result. The second one, however, is her part in the story--not necessarily as a romantic interest for Babette, but for acting as an anchor to not only reality but also humanity for her godly girlfriend.

Dating or not, it doesn’t matter, but Babette wouldn’t reconnect with humanity on her own and without a character like Josephine existing, she would’ve flown off to Pluto or something and buried herself waiting for the heat-death of the universe to kill her.

14) What is something about your OC that can make you laugh?

The fact that I’m not sure if I should make her go full butch or femme or just stay somewhere alternating between. She’s fast enough to out run you at a marathon, strong enough to beat you at arm-wrestling, would absolutely rock certain short hairstyles and a leather jacket, but at the same time she’s leaving lipstick marks on Babette’s cheeks and rocking absolutely stunning dresses.

No heels, though. She hates heels.

15) What is something about your OC that can make you cry?

The fact that when she begins learning magic from Babette, one of her first thoughts goes straight to necromancy and the idea that she could possibly maybe resurrect her late older brother.

16) Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

Just as @gottaenjoythelittlethingzz said, I’ll tell you when I find it.

17) What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

The most recent thing I’ve discovered about Josephine… She’s was extremely hopeful for the Wonder Woman movie and absolutely adored it when she watched it in theatres. She saw some issues but overall, she loved it and not just because Gal Gadot was a thing.

18) What is your favourite fact about your OC?

Josephine is a massive, massive, greek mythology nerd. Literally, her computer wallpaper is probably some picture of Athens or the pantheon of greeks or something like that. When Babette gives her a pet raven, she names it Cerberus. When she and Babette adopt a kitten together she names it Sappho (I blame @sunlight-melodies). She really likes greek mythology which makes interesting parallels considering her favourite greek god is Persephone and her girlfriend has been known as the God of the Dead.

Tagged, in no particular order, is: @sleepy-and-anxious, @ariellaskylark @cometworks @focusdumbass @rose-writes-and-drinks-tea @truebisexualdragon @fallen-angel-nightshade @pyr0clast @i-tried-and-i-loose @sunlight-melodies

I’ve realised that i need to keep a list of writers I follow to tag in these things because I’m absolutely horrible at remembering them all...

[severetimetravelnerd]

Change (ft.G Dragon and Yoo Yeon-Seok)

Part 21(Final part) (Yeon-Seok version)

Yeon-Seok asks you something you never expected.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@starlighttaek8

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Okayyy, so this is the last part in this series, and this is the Yeon-Seok version. While, I am on team Jiyong, as some @starlighttaek8​ may have guessed, I love Yeon-Seok and am a chronic victim of the second lead syndrome. It’s a paradox! If the reader chooses them, they aren’t the second lead anymore!!! Anyways, I loved some of the bits in here. Enjoyy :))

———————————————————————————

You leaned back into your seat, closing your eyes for a minute to try and gather yourself. You needed to think. You didn’t know how you would react to seeing Yeon-Seok after so long. What would he think? How would he feel? You finally shook your shoulders to try and shake off the nerves eating at you. You looked at your belly and smiled, thinking that it would be the baby’s first time seeing her father. You picked up the box next to you, full of everything you had been saving for Yeon-Seok and went and knocked on the door. You were expecting Yeon-Seok to slam the door in your face when he saw it was you, as he had proved himself incapable of listening to you, but the moment the door opened, you found yourself being pulled into a kiss; a hungry, lust-filled one at that. The part of you that desperately missed him and longed for him to be by your side kissed him back with equal passion, but the part of you that was being sensible knew that something was off. It wasn’t like Yeon-Seok to do something like this. Yeon-Seok had moved to your neck, and was nibbling on it when suddenly, he stopped, as though he recognised something. His eyes opening for the first time since he opened the door, he shakily said,

 “You’re not Mina.”

 And then, everything made sense to you. So he was waiting for someone. You took a few steps back, head reeling from trying to process things. You let out a laugh heavy with sadness. He never felt the same way you did huh. It just wasn’t that way. He was already with other people while you were struggling every day, desperately hoping for him to come back. You laughed again and wiped the few stray tears that had escaped.

 “I’m just going to go Yeon-Seok. I can see when I’m not welcome.” 

You stared straight back into his shocked and vaguely hostile eyes. You walked over to him and dropped the box in his hands.

 “I thought you should know.”

 Something in Yeon-Seok flipped. He grabbed your hand, holding it so tight, it hurt. Voice dangerously low, he said,

 “Why Y/N? Why would you want me to know about Jiyong’s child? You know I love you. You know how much I’m trying to get over you, but the thought of you doesn’t leave my mind for even a second. You were never this sadistic when we were together. What happened to you now? Why would you want to cause me so much pain?” 

You broke free of his grip, heart breaking when you realised what conclusion he had jumped to. Drained of energy, and sad by how baby would have to hear all of this, you whispered, 

“Yeon-Seok. This is your child.”

You didn’t bother waiting to see his reaction. You were just too sad. You couldn’t handle seeing such a loving and caring relationship deteriorate into a pathetic excuse for one. You shut the front door behind you and walked over to your car, leaning against it while you tried to calm down enough to drive. Yeon-Seok though, felt everything spin when he heard you whisper that. He looked down into the box in his hands, picking up a sonogram and turning it around, only then noticing your squiggly handwriting scrawled all over it, with notes of the date, the baby and whatever you wanted to share with Yeon-Seok that day. Yeon-Seok started feeling this odd pain. It was small at first, and then it hit him. He could hardly breathe. He left you on your own when you were pregnant. He left his child. A beautiful outcome of your relationship. A beautiful part of your future. The future he always wanted. He walked away from a perfectly healthy, loving relationships because he wouldn’t listen to you and let his fears get in the way. He clenched his fists, cursing himself for thinking that he knew everything about you. He should have just let you speak for yourself. He should have given you a chance to explain what you wanted to. He shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about the kiss. He clenched his fists even tighter. If only he hadn’t seen that damn kiss. He shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. But then, another thought popped into his head. Why were you living with Jiyong? He rushed out, not knowing what to say to you first, only knowing that he desperately needed you to still be outside his house. 

“Y/N!” 

You heard him shout. You looked up, wondering to see how he would manage to hurt you this time. Sounding vaguely defensive, he continued.

 “Why’d you move in with Jiyong then? I told you to use our apartment.” 

This time, something in you broke. You screamed,

 “Because you weren’t there, you bloody bastard!” 

Your voice broke. 

“How could you expect me to take baby home without you there? I didn’t want to go back there without you, because I had faith that things would work out between us in the end! But clearly, I was the only one.” 

The small insecurities in Yeon-Seok wanted to ask why it had to be Jiyong, and whether anything happened, but he pushed them out of his mind, because he knew those were what cost him the relationship in the first place. He walked over to you with unreadable expression on his face, closely watching your shoulders shake slightly from the sobs. Your fierce eyes met his. You were sobbing, red-eyed and a mess, but all your pain and anger shone through your eyes, unflinching through it all. Yeon-Seok finally reached you, and gave in to his greatest desire from the past few months. He wrapped his arms around you and held you. You froze, your body longing to just melt into the warmth and familiarity of his arms, but your anger didn’t allow you to do that. You tried to push your way out of his arms.

 “Let me go Yeon-Seok. I might as well go back. I don’t want to be here any longer.”

 He just held you tighter and buried his face in your neck. You could hear his muffled voice from there.

 “Y/N, I am sorry. I am so incredibly sorry.”

 His hand reached for your belly, and gently patted it. 

“Baby, Dada’s sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t meet you earlier, but I’m never going to leave now.”

 All your strength left your body as you sobbed into Yeon-Seok’s chest.

 “Oppa, do you know you much I needed you and how you were never there?” 

He also sobbed into you. 

“I know Y/N, I know. I’m sorry. Nothing I do will ever make up for it.” 

He pulled away, hurriedly wiping his eyes, and yanking off the chain around his neck. Your eyes widened as you saw him get down on his knees in front of you, holding out a beautiful thin gold band with a pale sapphire in the middle, still hanging onto the chain as a pendant. 

“Y/N, I bought this a month before we broke up. I didn’t know how or when to propose, so I was planning something simple the night Jiyong collapsed. When I saw you with him, all my worst fears came back, and I was convinced that you would leave me. So, I left first. I know. I’m an idiot. And I deserve all the anger and some more for everything I didn’t listen to. But I still love you. I always will. And we’re halfway through achieving my dream anyway,”

 he paused to smile at your stomach,

 “So, let’s achieve the other half?”

 and he held out the ring. He could only watch in silent happiness as you nodded and let him slide the ring onto your finger. He got up and pulled you in for a proper kiss this time around. Although you hit the back of his head a couple of times, he could feel you smile against the kiss.

 -------- 1 month later--------------

Jiyong stood there as your Man of Honour, zoning out the priest as he preached, focussing completely on how ethereally gorgeous you looked in that simple white dress, with that smile of yours that absolutely killed him every time. Although Yeon-Seok wasn’t threatened by Jiyong anymore because Jiyong had made it clear by giving you Yeon-Seok’s address that he put your happiness over his own, Jiyong and Yeon-Seok still didn’t like each other very much. Yeon-Seok learnt to put up with it, because Jiyong was going to be the baby’s godfather, but Jiyong never fully forgave Yeon-Seok for not listening to you and abandoning you when you needed him the most. Jiyong snapped out of it when he heard the echo after,

 “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

 He was tormented. He didn’t know what he would do.  Almost of his own accord, he found himself opening his mouth, and he was about to say I do when the dazzling smile on your face stopped him. He closed his mouth and smiled through the pain. He looked up, and made eye-contact with Mirae, your sister, across from him. She knew what he was going to do, and she smiled encouragingly, as though telling him that it was all going to be all right in the end. He smiled back at her, looking at your happy face one more time, just to make sure he had made the right decision.

[coshayphinelove]

just some thinky thoughts after i wrote a tag essay that got way bigger than the tags.  feel free to read if you want, but forewarning... i have more questions after writing than before so..

so before i start anything i’d like to clarify that i love ob.  most of my issues with it are bc i got my hopes too high and held the creators to the standards i hold myself, which is not fair in art.  also, i’m only talking about the ob team and the characters, not the fans.  don’t get all in a twist, this is just me... thinkin.

so ep 5 was great.  2013 me would have loved it.  but 2017 me is like.. hard into communication and explicitly labelled representation.  and cophine is neither of those things.  like... i can understand that there’s not enough time to linger on stuff the way i would want to.  i get it.  but like... there was enough time to linger on alison.  for five seasons.  the first time she ever did anything main plot-moving was this season, she was always almost completely seperate.  she got flashbacks out the wazoo to explain her entire life story.  we met her mom.  her monitor is redeemed.  

i just am very unhappy with the doling of screen time.  like... it’s not even about shipping anymore.  it’s about plot holes and i am genuinely confused about the story at this point.  like delphine and donnie are easily comparable characters.  donnie monitored alison for close to a decade.  lied to her for a decade.  once he found out about the clones started doing things without alison’s knowledge or consent.  he is forgiven.  almost immediately.  for everything. 

delphine lasted as a monitor about... a month?  she was so bad at lying that cosima caught her.  she immediately came clean.  then in the flashback begged cosima to believe that she would always protect her.  and yet?  the conflict surrounding delphine for the entire show is ~is she good or bad???~.  and at every turn she is keeping that promise while making and keeping other promises.  and everybody, including her love interest keeps throwing her mistakes in her face.

donnie gets side plots and new dynamics to explore.  delphine has to have all of her characterization as a subset of cosima’s screen time.  donnie gets a seat at the bubbles table, delphine does not.  she has to leave and get shot (a whole different rant of equal length).

on another note, alison and cosima are also easily comparable characters: side characters used to provide info for sarah to react to.  cosima’s safety is always at risk, she’s been boiled down to her love interest for several plots, and she doesn’t ever get to acknowledge her Very Obvious PTSD and abandonment issues.  alison has low stakes conflict (up until this season, but that’s already over), she is never boiled down to donnie’s wife, and we got to watch her parse through her issues in s2 in great detail.  

like even the flashbacks.  like alison got half her episode told in flashbacks and it was gorgeous.  i by no means wanted that when there’s so much going on but i thought we would get at least a little more.  

we met alison’s parent.  we hear about her in a natural and very not forced way.  cosima gets one very long line about her family very late in the game in a clunky and almost pointless way.  (like... why was it in there?  what purpose did it serve?)

i think the problem is subtext.  everybody is always talking about the subtext.  but the problem is there are several issues that the writer’s address almost explicitly.  like alison’s drinking problem.  we learned all about that and we cheered for her when she went to rehab and we we sad when she relapsed. with cosima it’s.... two instances of smash cuts of bad memories and her reacting to them.  ......*gestures with flailing arms* ISN’T THAT ALSO IMPORTANT???  

like.  i’m going to keep talking about delphine but.. that’s just where my head is rn..

but from s1 to s2 her arc was learning what her role would be in clone club and then how to do that.  and she made some big huge strides there.  and then she comes back for s3 and it’s gone.  she’s just.. not doing that anymore?  like they took the time to film her telling cosima immediately after she messed up that she had, in fact, messed up.  and then, what, a few days later she Can’t Tell Cosima Anything Anymore?  and don’t get on me about screen time here.  it could’ve been like.. 2 more lines.  “it’s not safe, they’ll hurt you.”  “b-but delphine??” “i’m sorry.”  LIKE?  they just wanted the drama of cosima not knowing.   which i can see wanting, but it didn’t end up working.  because then you had scenes showing delphine doing things for clone club.  so then... it was just.... confusing?  and imo drawn out for too long.  

but even to this day I, a delphine stan, am still kind of iffy.  she literally made an ultimatum (promise me, everyone.  you will never make an ultimatum in your romantic/sexual/platonic relationships.  that’s a manipulation tactic that a lot of abusers use.  slippery slope please don’t do it.)(i’m also not saying that delphine is an abuser or that you’re an abuser but just.. it’s a thing to be careful of.)  

“accept our toxic relationship as is or leave.”

IN WHAT WORLD IS THAT OKAY??? like i get the sentiment behind it.  like she was saying, ‘hey cosima i know i’ve been bad but like you don’t have to stay if you don’t want.  i’ll stop kissing you and everything.’  but then....  have her say that?  everything delphine ever says to cosima is wrapped in 3 levels of subtext.  or alternatively, cut the kissies in half and let them have a few lines about a new promise or something.  idk if that’s just her being extra or if that’s just.... the writers.

bc the creators... bless them.. they’re trying.  but when it comes down to it they were predominantly straight men.  and they did add tatiana as an executive producer which is like.. the head idea guy who tell the writers what to write.  which was awesome!  but like.. she’s straight (as far as we know).  so like.. i really don’t want to pull the sexuality card here.  but i think i am.  

bc it’s one thing if you don’t give romantic, mental health, or communication plot lines very much time.  it’s another if you give a straight couple plenty and a wlw couple scraps.  it’s one thing if the straight couple gets to delve into things multiple times and the wlw couple gets ten seconds before the plot needs to keep going.

i get that the cosima-centric ep was very plot heavy, stuff was happening, i get it.  but like... if you cared about giving good rep as much as you claim you do wouldn’t you... re-structure so that they have more than 10 seconds?  wouldn’t you sacrifice some of that oh so dearly beloved body horror to let them just... talk for a hot sec?  or let them be in the same room?

i know it’s hard work.  the longest original work i’ve ever finished is a 30 page script.  and even then it’s a lot of ‘is this dialogue working?’  ‘would that character say that?’ ‘that’s a plot hole’  ‘wait where is he going again?’  i get that there’s a lot to keep track of so like... knowing who cosima’s parents are wasn’t on a post-it note on the beat board.  but i just...  one of the questions i always ask myself is ‘is this healthy?’  so like... i always make sure that if the dynamic isn’t then i either address it somewhere else or change it so it is.

i don’t think they were asking themselves that.

bc straight guys are used to power balances in their relationships.  they’re used to ultimatums.  whether it’s in their life or in fiction, that’s what they see.  and they’re socialized to see that as normal.  so when they’re made aware that the media they’re making is feminist/progressive, these guys seemed like they did research and tried to make it more so.  but... they missed the mark.  bc straight men will never know what it’s like to be a wlw or a woman.  that’s just how it works.

and then.. like... they were so hyperaware of the fans and what they wanted.  and i think the thing they understood the best was that they wanted cophine kisses.  bc a lot of ppl wanted that and like...ppl who are cophine critical sometimes also want cophine kisses.  so that’s the loudest thing they heard/saw. and instead of doing the emotional work and the plot work they thought every scene had to have kisses.

and they also knew that they could always fill in the gaps at panels.  WHICH.  not canon if you say it at a panel y’all.  they knew the fans would spread their patches all over the place.  so instead of doing the work and explicitly taking a stand they just.. let people ask them questions so they knew what people were wondering about and then...... answered.

i don’t think they did any of this maliciously but like.. the whole drama surrounding sarah’s sexuality, the great debate of whether it was problematic or not.  like... knowing now that they didn’t intend it to come off as her lashing out and having a mental breakdown helps, but.... that’s still what it looked like at first glance.  and if i’m just a DVR viewer who doesn’t meticulously stalk everything ob online, i wouldn’t know that.  and they do that with delphine’s intentions a lot.  they do it with sexuality a lot.  they do it with gender a lot.  and it’s like.... it’s representation but... label-less to the masses.  like my dad was in the room when sarah was kissing a girl and he made some snide comment about it.  and it’s like... they were just too aware of fans that they gave them what they wanted (sarah kissing a girl/cophine kisses) without thinking about if was the healthy thing for the moment.  they didn’t think about the ramifications.

and it’s just so frustrating.  bc i love this show, i do.  there’s so much to talk about and so many themes and allegories and cool stuff.  but they just... do a lot of stuff that..... really grinds my gears.  like this isn’t even a comprehensive list.

[pocketseizure]

The Marriage of Lanayru, Chapter Seven

The Ghosts of the Past

Zelda reflects on what Ganondorf means to her and consults Midna about the nature of his magic.

1,800 words ☆ (Also on AO3) (Story Tag on Tumblr)

* * * *

Zelda sighed as she looked out over the lights of Hyrule Castle from the window of her tower room. The day had been a nightmare, with interminable meetings and a steady stream of documents requiring her attention. The procession of tasks necessary to rebuild her kingdom after the siege seemed endless, and now she had the situation in Kakariko to deal with as well.

After their brief visit to the old Sheikah village, Ganondorf had gone off somewhere, and she hadn't seen him since. He had not objected to the prospect of becoming the next king, but she wondered if he were really cut out for the job. No matter what he may have been in his own time, running a country was vastly different than leading an army; a monarch cannot simply disappear and tend to his own business in the middle of the day.

It was embarrassing for Zelda to admit to herself that she had expected anything of Ganondorf. She originally intended for him to act as little more than a figurehead, and it suited her purposes for him to be here in the castle. If he returned to the desert, as she strongly suspected he wished to do, she would no longer be able to keep an eye on him.

Zelda turned away from the window and glanced at the pile of books on the small table that had served as a desk during her imprisonment. She had read about the Gerudo, a tribe that once built a thriving civilization strong enough to rival Hyrule. By all accounts they had enjoyed the prosperity that accompanied their assiduous management of the trade routes passing between the kingdoms that lay beyond the border of the western mountains. These kingdoms no longer sent emissaries, and Zelda did not know whether they had fallen into decline. Had Ganondorf attacked Hyrule because the Gerudo were suffering economically due to dwindling trade? Or had the Gerudo grown so wealthy and powerful that he assumed he would be able to conquer Hyrule without resistance?

The histories she consulted had not provided her with the answers she sought. Perhaps the only person who could tell her what happened was Ganondorf. How incredible it was that she found herself in the company of a living artifact from Hyrule's past. Everything from his accent to his gestures to the manner in which he ate was foreign to her, and she could never tell whether his strangeness was the product of his Gerudo heritage or of his temporal displacement.

Regardless, Ganondorf did not seem like the sort of person who would carelessly bring about the demise of his kingdom. Zelda was not blind to the hideous and terrible anger he carried within him, but even at his most furious he had maintained an iron-fisted control over himself. She had been enthralled during his battle against Link. She knew Link would win – he was fated to win – but she'd spent years studying the art of the sword, and she watched Ganondorf with keen interest. He was clearly uncomfortable with the heft and balance of the sword he wielded, but every move he made was calculated and deliberate.

It was clear to her that Ganondorf was not a madman, and the danger he posed lay not in the strength of his body or of his magic, but rather the strength of his will. Zelda realized he could be valuable to her, and that she may be able to use him. She decided to spare his life, and her resolve endowed her with the strength to pierce the magical barrier that separated her from him. To Link's amazement, she stayed the blade of the mythical Master Sword with her own hand.

If she were being honest with herself, however, she would have to admit that her decision to save Ganondorf had already been made in the moment when he pressed his mouth to hers, sharing her breath as he passed the essence of his Triforce into her dying body. She had been filled with the exhilaration of the energy flowing into her, and she understood for the first time what power meant. It was not just the burden of responsibility, but the freedom of an infinite potential.

Zelda turned away from the window and walked to the mirror. She blew onto it and wrote a quick succession of glyphs on its clouded surface. The glass pulsed with light twice, and then Midna's face jumped into sharp focus.

Zelda laughed in surprise. "That was quick."

Midna grinned back at her as she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "I've been waiting. What kept you? Were you with your loverboy?" Midna's lips curled in distaste. "Because I certainly hope not."

"It's been a long day," Zelda replied. "Listen, speaking of Ganondorf, I have a question. What is magic, exactly? Is it something you were born with, as a Twili? Or is it something you inherited as a princess?"

"Wow." Midna raised her eyebrows. "Way to get metaphysical right off the bat."

Zelda shook her head. "I don't care about the theory, just the basic practicalities."

"Of course not, no one cares about the theory. As for the practicalities, we Twili have varying levels of ability. I was lucky enough to be born with a little magic, but I wouldn't have gotten anywhere if I hadn't studied my ass off for years. Isn't that what you did?"

"I... no. I didn't study magic." Zelda was embarrassed. "What magic I have came to me with the Triforce, and I really don't understand anything about it. We don't have books about magic here in Hyrule. But, since you were able to study it, do you think it was the same with the Gerudo?"

"Hmmmm..." Midna tapped her finger against her chin as she considered the question. "I don't know much about the Gerudo. Back in the day, you Hylians had a great deal of magic yourselves, so I wouldn't be surprised if the Gerudo had their own traditions. As someone who hated studying, I can tell you that your fiancé strikes me as someone who probably loved it. He's such a damn nerd."

Zelda covered her mouth with her hand to hide her grin. She had never thought of Ganondorf like that before, but Midna's description of him was apt.

Midna rolled her eyes and continued. "You know what I'm talking about, then. That boy spent too much time reading, and then he became a loner with unrealistic ambitions and a delusional savior complex. He's such a stereotype. Honestly, I don't know how you stand him. Still... I can't deny that he's good at what he does, and there's probably a reason the Triforce chose him. There's no accounting for taste, I guess."

Zelda was amused, but she pressed on with her line of questioning. "You said that you don't know much about the Gerudo. Can you tell me anything?"

Midna shrugged. "Not really, only that they were one of the tribes of Hyrule. Like I said, I'm not a huge fan of digging through old books."

"Do you know if they were associated with boars?"

Midna scowled. "I don't know whether they were or not, but I can tell you who is – the man you stupidly decided to marry. You were really out of it when Link and I fought him in your castle, probably because he had just possessed your body, which, you know, is obviously a healthy start to a relationship. Can we talk about that, by the way?"

"Midna, please."

"Okay, whatever. Anyway, your hubby-to-be transformed himself into a giant boar, except it was more of a demon, just raw strength and pure rage. Or, it wasn't really a boar; it had thick fleshy toes instead of hooves, and I can't swear that it wasn't scaly. It creeped me out, and let me tell you, I've seen some things..."

Midna paused for a moment and massaged her temples before continuing. "In any case, that's what you can thank for the destruction of your throne room. You're not going to want to hear this, but I think he was trying to take on the form of the legendary demon king Ganon. I mean, that's how he persuaded that idiot Zant, by saying he was Ganon. It would make sense, given that he calls himself 'Ganondorf.' The thing is, though – I'm pretty sure Ganon isn't just a legend. I think it's real, and I think it has something to do with why we Twili were banished from Hyrule in the first place. I can tell you the story, but why don't you tell me why you're asking about boars in the first place?"

"I'm sorry, Midna," Zelda responded. Her suspicions had been confirmed, and her heart was racing. "I think I have to go. Can we talk about this later?"

"Oh..." Midna's face fell. "I bet you just remembered an important conversation you're supposed to be having with someone else. Fine. But be careful with him, okay? I wouldn't trust him any farther than I can throw a, you know, a..."

"A pumpkin?" Zelda suggested.

"That's right!" Midna snapped her fingers.

Zelda smiled, grateful for Midna's concern. "I don't believe Ganondorf is a threat. At least, not in the way everyone thinks he is. Still, I suspect he knows something that he's not telling me."

"Have you tried using your feminine wiles? I bet he's a real beast in bed, if you know what I'm saying."

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "You're one to talk. By the way, how's Link?"

"Listen, Zelda," Midna said, suddenly serious. "We'll be here for you, me and Link. We're right on the other side of this mirror. If you need us, just reach out, okay? We'll come for you."

Midna raised her hand to the glass. "Thank you," Zelda whispered, touching her fingers to Midna's palm.

The connection flickered and died out, and Zelda allowed her shoulders to drop. She rolled her head and rubbed the back of her neck. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and she felt her exhaustion fading. She was looking forward to talking with Ganondorf, and she knew exactly where to find him.

I bet he's a real beast in bed. Midna's words lingered in Zelda's mind, and her face grew warm as she blushed. What she didn't want to tell her friend was how incredible it felt when Ganondorf's spirit had entered her. He offered her his life, and she had taken it, knowing full well what sort of power it would give him over her. When he came to her in her tower room, he was not the prince she had always dreamed of, but he was the only person who had ever seen her in a moment of true weakness and not turned away in disappointment. However terrible he may have been, she was not afraid of him.

[crystallinecoral-blog]

30 Day Boyfriend Challenge (in 1 day because I’ll definitely forget about this later)

Since he doesn’t have a tumblr, and he contributed to my first post (the tags are all his), and I miss him despite just seeing him a few hours ago.

Where did you meet?

In Washington, D.C. Lol

How did he ask you to be his?

He didn’t; I believe I was the one who brought it up.

Your first memory with your boyfriend?

Drawing a picture of him based on a photo and he said it looked more like his dad. (After having met his dad, I think it still looks more like him tbh)

Your first kiss

I honestly don’t even remember. It was probably at my apartment? I am more of a hugs n snuggles person.

Your favorite gift he gave you

For Christmas (aka “Winter Gift-Giving Holiday That Only One Of Us Celebrates*”) he got me a reproduction of my favorite painting, The Lady in Gold by Gustav Klimt. Unfortunately I can’t hang it up but having it leaned against the wall makes it look quite nonchalant like “oh hey I just have beautiful pieces of artwork laying around”

*I did get him something too! But not specifically for Christmas - they were souvenir type things from when I visited my parents for winter break.

Nicknames for one another

There are many, but the main ones are “beb” and “beb.” It started out ironically but it just stuck.

What do you think of his family

They are all wonderful!! My parents were a little skeptical at first, telling me that even if he accepts me for who I am, older white people tend to be culturally insensitive and they can’t help it etc. I’m glad that his family isn’t like that.

What do they think of you?

I think they like me! I don’t know them that well but they always ask about me and I’m friends with his brother and stepmom on FB.

Inside joke

There’s quite a few but here’s one I don’t recall the origin of. Changing the /ae/ sound and the to an /u/. Eg: rat becomes root, frat becomes froot, bat becomes boot.

How many times has he upset you?

Let’s say....once a month? Just coincidentally right before my period? I can only think of one or two instances where I became upset at something he did or said and it wasn’t because of PMS.

Why is your relationship different from others?

He was Dx’d with cancer when we were officially dating but still getting to know each other (not that it ever ends). Thankfully he has made a full recovery and is healthy now, but I don’t think most relationships start off with something like that.

10 things you like about him

His smile, his cooking, his sense of humor, his outlook on life, his carefree attitude, his taste in music, his open-mindedness, his quest for novelty, his desire to learn, and his thoughtfulness.

Your song

Mm probably any song by the RHCP

How often do you see each other?

Once a week, due to work/school committments and living far apart. Well, not that far, but when you’re relying on the Red Line...

His friends

I’ve only met one of them once and he seems like a pleasant person. If my bf trusts someone enough to be close friends with them, I feel that I can trust them too.

Things you two have in common

Love of nature, animals, and reading, cleanliness, playing guitar, brunette, not super religious (though I am probably more religious than he is), comfortable in being alone but not introverted

Things that bother you about him

Nothing actually. Anything that bothered me was really a reminder for me to be a better person (more patient, less controlling, more empathetic, etc)

Upcoming plans you have together

Getting married (someday! Once we have real jobs)

Going to the aquarium in Baltimore (next week)

A special memory

My first Thanksgiving dinner was with him, at his dad’s house.

When you feel closest to him

When we’re just being silly and not doing much but enjoying each other’s company

What you imagine your future with him to be

MARRIED YAY with a couple of children. He has mentioned wanting to be a house-husband and I am probably a little more career-focused at the moment so that’s how it’ll be. Living somewhere warm in a diverse city, close to natural attractions, in a small tidy house.

A movie that is special to your relationship

Disney movies - we are in the process of watching them all in chronological order. I think we got up to the 1970s and SNOOZEFEST so we skipped ahead to Finding Dory, Moana (<3), etc. But we need to get back on track.

What you two do together

When we see each other? Everything except bathroom stuff. I even have fun doing my laundry with him. If we go out we usually go for a walk to a museum or park or something and we like trying new places to eat.

How long have you been together?

Nearly 2 years.

Ways you have changed since the beginning of your relationship?

I’ve become more patient and tolerant. I’ve learned a lot about his culture and how to communicate well in a relationship. I have also become more religious! I used to not care about it much until I started explained aspects of Hinduism and my family’s culture to him, and I’d often find myself thinking “hmm, that actually makes sense/is a good idea.” I will always be Hindu no matter whether I believe in anything or not, but now I can also believe in myself as a Hindu.

What do your friends think of him?

Everyone who’s met him thinks he’s a great person. Definitely a positive sign :)

What is the next holiday you will be celebrating together?

Earth Day! April 22nd

Describe meeting his family?

Meeting his dad and stepmom was nerve-wracking because I was invited home for dinner and had just started recovering from an eating disorder. I feel like I was rather gauche in addition to all that because I’m horribly shy, but they made me feel welcome so it was a good experience overall.

Meeting his mom and stepdad was easier because we went to a restaurant for lunch with him and his brother, who was visiting, so I didn’t feel like there was as much attention on me. It was a lovely experience as well.

Your favorite thing about him

He is very stoic (also in the philosophical sense), which balances out my extreme emotions.

The one thing that makes him different from everyone else

This is probably such a cliche but I can be myself around him more than I can with anyone else.

[natasjakjpriscilliamo78insu-blog]

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[livelikebrent]

Stop 9: Europe

“Do you really want to look back on your life and see how wonderful it could have been had you not been afraid to live it?” - Caroline Myss, American Author

Barcelona has always been on my personal bucket list. Brent was WELL aware of this. While we did travel here and there, they were always domestic trips. Brent had never left the US and I had only been on a cruise in the Caribbean at the age of sixteen or so and went to Canada for a long weekend my senior year of college. I didn’t know when I’d get to Spain but I did know I would get there some day. Brent told me that when we would go, he’d have the opportunity to check out Suvoda’s office located in Barcelona and work from there while I went about the city.

Whether Brent was at Sloan Kettering, in the ICU in Philadelphia, or perfectly healthy at his apartment one of his friends, Brendan, visited pretty regularly. Brendan heard about our extremely loose plans for Europe. Part of me feels like it was while we were watching the Home Run Derby in the ICU the last week Brent was alive but it could’ve very well been a different conversation. Either way, he immediately offered to be our tour guide since he traveled each summer to visit his sister who lives in Germany. While Brent said it wouldn’t be for a while, we both gladly accepted the offer.

Without second guessing or planning a thing, I added Barcelona to the bucket list for this year. I didn’t know how, exactly when, or who would come with me but it was something I wanted to make happen. On a whim, Brendan joined me on my first trip back in August of 2017 to visit Broocks in Charlottesville, VA. When I told him my list of places I wanted to go and check off, he signed up for Europe instantly. Little did I know that just under a year later, my trip to Barcelona would expand into a two week trip to Spain, Germany and France. I got a lot more than I bargained for and I’m extremely grateful for that. 

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Have you ever seen The Notebook? Remember the scene where Ryan Gosling is yelling at Rachel McAdams asking her, “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” I think this exact conversation happened half a dozen times on my trip with Brendan. (Minus the crying and it really didn’t carry on that long at all) I believe that I’ve always been a rather fair person. I can compromise. While compromise should be a part of every relationship, there was a lot of it when Brent became sick. I think it became a natural part of our day to day life. Some days Brent would want ice cream but he couldn’t have dairy, so we had lemon ice which would turn into a new found favorite of his. Or some days he wouldn’t want to get out of bed but needed to move around. So we’d set a goal of laps to walk around on the hospital floor. Or maybe there was a concert, family gathering or something that I wanted to go to (Brent obviously would too) but didn’t because I wanted to see Brent every single weekend to give him the love and support that he deserved...no matter where the hospital bed was located. And I always did just that. So when Brendan would ask me, “What do you feel like eating?”, “What do you want to do later?” or, “Which way do you want to go now?” I couldn’t always give a direct answer. A few months after Brent had passed, I kind of woke up and started speaking up more. If I wanted something, I’d ask for it. If I went to a restaurant and was brought to a booth but realized there was seating available outside - I requested it. I don’t mean this in a selfish way either and never want to be an inconvenience. But why not get what you want?...within reason, that is. My last trip was to Portland and I did the entire thing solo. It was wonderful - ‘me time’ was great but tiring after a while. It’s nice to share an experience with somebody, it’s a relief to share plates with another person and be able to taste several different items off a rad menu and it’s just ideal to not have to think all of the time and receive suggestions from another person where to go, what to do and so on. So I’ve come to realized when asked, “What do you want to do today?” can be hard to answer when you’re so used to working as a team with some one else and considering what they need. It comes and goes I suppose. Something so simple shouldn’t be so complicated...but sometimes it is.

July 4th Brendan and I saw the most stunning tourist attraction in Barcelona, The Sagrada Familia. Maybe it was because I didn’t get much sleep the night before or the fact that it was the last day of our trip or I was anxious to just get home, but I didn’t really feel like speaking and my mind was everywhere and present at the same time. A year ago that day was the last day Brent had outside of the hospital. I drove him to Wilkes-Barre to see his family and friends. It was as if he wanted to make some final stops to see people he loved without knowing what was ahead of him. July 5th was our flight home. July 5, 2017 was the day Brent’s roommate called me. I won’t forget it. It was the day he and I carried Brent down the stairs of his apartment and I drove like an absolute maniac to get him to the emergency room. But here I was July 4, 2018 in a monster size Catholic church that is STILL being built from 1882. It was absolutely amazing. Brendan pointed out that there was a “magic square” on the building which has been a brain teaser and a complete mystery that the architect,  Antoni Gaudí, brought to his tomb. Brendan also pointed out that no matter which way you add up the rows, you get 33. The age Brent passed.

Earlier this year, Mary, a colleague of Brent’s also went to Spain and she placed a sticker outside of The Sagrada Familia. I saved the photo for when it was my turn to visit and find her sticker. Her photo and post from Facebook is below:

“#livelikebrent Ok you guys, I post so rarely on this thing, but need to share this all with you. Also pretty sure this is the first time I’ve hashtagged (is this a verb now?) anything! Before I left the office last week for Barcelona, I spied Sallie Sharer’s Carve 4 Cancer’s sticker and realized I totally forgot to get a sticker and wanted to leave a piece of Brent P. Evans’s legacy in Spain (I’m usually a day late and a dollar short on most things). Sallie kindly let me take it (thanks, Sallie!) so that I could tag Spain. While I only knew Brent for a short time in my professional life, he certainly has made a lasting impression. I felt a responsibility to leave it somewhere monumental. Well as it turns out, you don’t get more monumental then the Sagrada Família. I couldn’t quite figure out why I thought this would be the perfect (albeit most touristy spot) in all of Barcelona. But the spot definitely felt right. Katie Rose Logan said it so perfectly when I told her - it’s beautiful, full of spirit, and has such a beautiful story, just like Brent. Katie was 100% right. It’s also a place of peace and hope for Christians. It brings people together to admire its beauty, creativity, and massive size. Not one person who passes by, can just walk by. Most people stop to inquire about the structure, admire it, and discuss it with other people around it. Much like the Basilica, Brent had a way of bringing people together with his big personality and he wasn’t one to let you just pass by his desk without asking how you’ve been and engaging you in conversation. He continually spread a hopeful and optimistic message about life.. So Katie and my gut were right, the Sagrada Família was the perfect spot for a #livelikebrent sticker. Brent, I hope you enjoy the spot from across the street!”

Originally, I had planned on putting a sticker up elsewhere in Barcelona. But I honestly was not coming across the right locations. I knew that sooner or later I’d realize where to place it ... and I did. Barcelona was on our bucket list for me. So I decided to not reinvent the wheel and check-up on Mary’s sticker. Sadly but definitely not completely unexpected - Mary’s sticker was gone. So I decided to replace it. Mary’s words from her post could not be more accurate so I found the spot and put the sticker back up with a little addition.

I could tell you all about the cava we drank in Spain, gelato I consumed in each country, the bike tour in Munich (which ruled) and spending just under 24 hours in some of the most adorable towns in the Alsace region of France. But this isn’t a travel blog. It’s a blog about places I’ve traveled for very special reasons. I made a plan to travel for a year to honor a human being that is loved by so many people...and I did just that. While I will only check off 11 out of 13 places on this list, Brent and I have already traveled to Boston to visit his friends Andy and Nicole, I’ve seen Matt Segal more times this year than I can remember (NOT complaining!) and will see those three special people once again when I check the 11th place off the list to visit for a second time: West Virginia University in Morgantown, West Virginia. I think it goes without saying that I owe a very huge ‘thank you’ to Brendan for helping me check off a major bucket list item for me. Never in a million years did I think this is how I would spend my late twenties...but it has been a bittersweet year between all of the traveling, reliving Brent’s last year each day in my mind and spending so much time with all of his (our!) dear friends and family.

So for the remainder of this post, I’m going to do something a little different and let the photos do most of the talking...

Barcelona, Spain...

Munich, Esslingen am Neckar, The Black Forest &  Kirchheim Utner Teck, Germany...

Kayserberg & Colemar, France...