#just in case the pinkie defenders come in i am a woman

[multifandomhellhole]

Character from an anime you genuinely hate?

Sakura Haruno from Naruto. Genuinely with all my heart. I would post my plethora of reasons why but momma's got a thesis to write instead ✨

[erudianokabe]

Nat-san (@quiveringdeer) and I were talking about this scenario. So. As requested, I am posting this here. But this is seriously the first time I'm doing something like this, so I do hope I do this justice, and for whoever reads it to find some enjoyment in it.

Afternoon gets a bit boring when your husband wasn't around. But what can you do? You're new to this wife business and as much as you want to spend as much time as possible with him, you can't. How could you when he was a man of particular importance? The war was over, sure, but the army and the military weren't going away which meant that your husband— former Vice Chief, now appointed a rank higher— wasn't all yours for the taking.

Sometimes, you wonder who he was REALLY married to. Was he married to you, or was he married to Marley instead… with you being some mistress that he went home to so very late into the night; like you were the secret.

"Aren't you worried that he's spending too much time at the base? What if it's not work? What if someone has him intertwined around their little pinky?" A concerned friend asked you. It's not always that you ask her to drop by. After all, she was not from Marley. You could only ever ask Hitch to visit when she was in town AFTER she's done with her own series of work. You were just so lucky, weren't you? Every one of your friends just had to be from one form of military to the next. Still, you can't help but want the company. There were just some days when you felt a little lonely, a little frustrated even, when you know that Reiner won't be coming home early because Marley comes first.

It's not as if you don't understand why he does what he does either. Keeping Marley safe meant keeping you safe, and with those little details inserted into the equation, your husband was even more eager and zealous about Marley's stability as a nation. He no longer has the Armor, but that doesn't mean that he can no longer protect his homeland. He was a warrior and a soldier. He's equipped with enough knowledge, training, and experiences to make things work.

"That'd be easier to remedy if that's the case." You started, shrugging your shoulders whilst leaning back against the wooden chair. You threw your head back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. A small pout etching itself on your features.

"So, what you're saying is it's fine if he has a lover?" She continued to interrogate, her honeyed tone of voice taunting. A digit pressed itself upon your cheek and all you could do was swat away at Hitch's hand.

"Absolutely not. What I'm saying is, I don't even need to be worrying about others when I'm already losing to his duties as War Chief. And I'm telling you, Hitch, at the rate that Reiner's going, he won't have eyes for any other man or woman— me included." She could hear the frustration in your voice, and couldn't help but laugh a bit. Who knew that your man of choice would be Mr. Boring. That Reiner guy, the one who wrote Annie the dullest letters.

"He sounds as soul-crushingly boring as ever." She says, this time, taking hold of her cup to take a sip of the tea that you've prepared prior.

"It's not like that, he's just really busy. Besides," You reasoned, pausing a while as you folded your arms over your chest.

"Besides?" The curiosity took over your companion for a bit, mildly eager to hear what you had to say to defend your workaholic partner.

"Besides, it's not like I can strangle his paperwork. And if I shred them, he'll get mad at me…" Again. You noted; Hitch raising a brow at you, a silent way of asking if you've actually done it. Which you have; something that she picked up on when you looked away guilty as a criminal. It took a few seconds for the woman beside you to burst into a healthy fit of laughter. Oh the way she would have paid good money to see his reaction to that.

"It's not funny! He really got mad at me; you know!" And yet, the crimson that painted your cheeks hardly seemed like an indication of what's usually supposed to be disappointment. "Well, if he was really mad, how come you look so flustered, hmn~? Are you skimping out on some juicy tidbit? Come on, you can tell me~"

"I-I'm not. It's just that…"

And you trail off, murmuring unintelligible words as you try to force the memory back, and failing in the process.

You remembered it so clearly. Your husband's hulking frame before you, looking at you as if you were some sort of miscreant. The War Chief looked like he was waiting for something, an explanation that he couldn't wedge out of you because you were being childish. More or less however, he was aware of your crimes because he caught you red handed.

"Do you know what you've done?" His voice was stern, disappointment dripping from his mouth like venom from a viper's fang.

"I was getting rid of competition." You clicked your tongue then, arms folded, eyes cast to the side and pouting like a brat. You were a little younger than him, but he didn't expect you to act like a child. Granted that on most occasions, he found that charming, but this time was different. There was no reason for you to have ripped his documents to shreds. No matter what reason you had, that was something that you shouldn't have done; and an act that he couldn't exactly condone. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose, one hand massaging his temple. How was he even going to explain this to the brass? "I hope you know that those were logistics reports, maps to supply routes, as well as an analysis for the next mission. I can pretty much draft everything else, but how do you expect me to go to base tomorrow without those maps? You've gone a little too far with this one."

"Tell them your wife ate it." The spite that was seething from your lips made him furrow his brow. Perhaps it was his fault because he's been working nonstop lately, but he's explained this to you time and time again. He knows that you're smart, that you and him have an understanding, but this was just a little too much, even for you. And this bratty answer, you weren't 12 years old to be saying things like this.

"What are you? A dog?" He asked sarcastically, gathering new sheets of paper from his desk in order to draft new reports while there was still time. "With the way that you're being pretty difficult lately, I should eat you instead." A thoughtless remark, for sure.

"Do you even have the time to do that? You're so busy flirting with your work, that I think I prefer you taking whiffs of Historia's letters instead." You said, also rather thoughtlessly. This made him look up from his drafts. The stare he gave you was absolutely indignant. You were really doing this right now, weren't you?

"Hey, I stopped doing that a long while ago. Now, I only do that to your letters." Reiner attempted at a taunt, maybe that would get you to back down.

"You could be doing that to things other than letters, but of course, you don't have the time." Your answer definitely made him believe that this was all his fault. Him always letting this rebellious attitude of yours slide. A part of him found your jealousy for the mundane adorable, and he loved you for it, but sometimes you also really got on his nerves. And when you do, when you're visibly annoyed at him and making that face… pouting, it makes him want to forget what he's doing and indulge in you. Maybe play your game, put you in your place. Wreck you a bit.

"Are you really challenging me right now?" And when he thought about putting you in place, it was to remind you that you were his top priority even if he's showing it through this obsessive means of insuring you a safe future.

"Sir, with all due respect." There wasn't even a shred of respect in your tone. "If the boot fits, lace it up." Your reply was cheeky and defiant. And he didn't have any words for that in that instant. How that attitude of yours made him chew at the inner walls of his cheek. How that made him undo his tie and unbutton his shirt's collar just to give him some room to breathe. Sometimes, putting you in place also meant giving you your just desserts for being so… you. Sometimes, he just couldn't hold back the urge to make you bite more than you can chew.

Needless to say, two things happened that night. One, someone ate their words. Second, someone was reminded just what Reiner specialized in as the Armored Titan.

"By way of your silence and that look on your face, I'd say Reiner showed you who the boss was." You were pulled out of your thoughts when Hitch's voice broke the silence. You were going to protest but that grin on her face just made you all the more guilty. See, Hitch was the best and the worst person for these conversations. She was the best because she listened attentively to these little girl talks, was invested in the details and the little gossips… but she was also the worst because Hitch was invested in the little details that, when pieced together, gave depth to the entirety of the puzzle. Why was she extra sharp when it comes to things like these?

"P-pretty much." You admitted because the glint in your friend's eye was already an indication that you couldn't lie your way out of this one.

"Well, was it good?" If Hitch could stop hammering you like this… but when she starts, she can be pretty relentless. For a moment, you were silent. Unsure if you even wanted to answer this because it was embarrassing. Soon enough, you folded your arms against the table and pressed your face against it. So helpless. Red as a beet, gaze thrown coyly at the interrogator.

"He was amazing." You whined in defeat, unable to hold yourself back from bragging about your husband. It was the truth anyway, so there was nothing wrong with admitting to it, right?

[eyesaremosaics]

It’s been over a year now since I was assaulted in Hawaii. The prosecutor just called, and the defendant wants to settle for a plea deal of 15 years with the possibility of parole. Which means he can get out on good behavior. Fuck that.

I’ve read some truly horrifying true crime cases—one where a man assaulted this woman, cut off her arms, put her in a barrel and rolled her down the hill assuming she would die. This woman survived, somehow managed to crawl out, and get help. Get to a hospital, get prosthetics. They caught the man responsible, he only went away for 5 years—got out on good behavior. What’s the first thing he does she. He gets out? Murdered some poor girl.

It’s my responsibility as a citizen to protect other women from this monster. If my brother and my boyfriend did not come into the bathroom when they did—I would be dead. There’s no question. I was able to hold him off until help came, and through a series of lucky events I was saved, but the man tried to rape me, and when I resisted, his intention was to kill me. I am certain of that. The knife was just inches from my throat.

I can still see it happening in slow motion, him shuffling across the bathroom with his pants around his ankles. Mask and sunglasses on, knife in his right hand. I kick myself for being paralyzed with shock, for not moving more quickly. For not running away. I was shaking my head in disbelief saying “no!” To which he replied in a husky voice: “yesss bitch”. Ugh. It makes my stomach turn. He tried to gag me with his filthy fucking sock.

My left hand was grasping his hand with the knife trying to force it away from me, It cut deep into my pinky to the point where the nerves were almost severed. I thought I was standing the whole time, but my knees were black and blue, he most have got me down to my knees. I remember as the knife drew closer to my throat and he began to overpower me, I started to cry. I thought: “this is it, I’m going to die in this bathroom stall.” My mind raced thinking of how I would never see the kids from work again, or my father, or my grandmother… or my boyfriend. I called out Yury’s name, feebly, desperately, with so much sadness as I resigned myself to my fate.

That’s what prompted my brother and yury to burst into the bathroom to rescue me. I don’t know how I got away. He turned to look at my brother. I darted out from under his arm, to the center of the bathroom and was frozen in shock. Yury grabbed me and put himself between the knife wielding freak and me. He shoved me out into the light, and stared tossing me aroubd to see if I’d been stabbed. He saw my hand and screamed: “she’s hurt!”

He thrust me into my mother, and then I began to scream and cry hysterically: “he tried to stab me! He had a knife! he tried to kill me!”

My mother kept shushing me, telling me I was okay, and seemed very annoyed that I was so hysterical. A nice lady at the dock had a guest aid kit. She cleaned my wound, and wrapped my hand until the ambulance got there. I was still in shock.

According to my family, this is what happened: yury and my sister in law went into the woman’s bathroom and found the bloody knife. My sunglasses were in there on the floor. My sister began recording the guy trying to walk away, my brothers and my sister along with a bunch of local Hawaiian’s followed this guy down. One Hawaiian guy said: “hey BRA! You better STOP!” And decked him in the face. My brother shoved him into a planter box screaming: “that’s my fucking sister!!!”

They held the guy down until the cops arrived and handcuffed him. Apparently the sack of shit was yelling: “I didn’t do anything! I don’t have a knife!” That’s what prompted my boyfriend and sister in law to go looking for the knife in the bathroom—which they found. My blood and his prints all over it.

I had to get stitches, but I was very lucky. He didn’t succeed in raping or murdering me, I could have been all cut up, he could have slashed my face. All I had was a few stitches and some bruises… I count myself very lucky. I owe the people of Lahaina so much, and my family for saving my life.

I have to go back to hawaii for trial in 2023. I won’t settle for a plea deal. I can’t take the chance that he will get out on good behavior and possibly succeed with what he tried to do to me on someone else. Our justice system may be broken, but I’m going to do whatever I can to keep that man behind bars where he belongs.

[cornacopicimagines]

best of friends │t.h

pairing: single dad!mob!tom holland x single mum!reader

words: 9k (oh god, i’m so sorry)

warnings: SMUT, swearing, praise kink, oral (female recieving), slight violence, mentions of verbal abuse/ degration & rough sex if you squint

summary:  Theo y/l/n and James Holland are the best friends that only 8-year-olds can get, their parents though are a little less happy with their lives. For James' dad; Mob-King Tom, he can't seem to catch cupid's arrow. Better yet, he refused to even let the stupid cherub let it fly free. For Theo's mum; y/n, it's her confidence that shakes her love life until there's nothing there. So it was meant to be.

a/n: at first i hated this fic (i still sort of hate the first part) but i think it’s really grown on me :)

masterlist

part 2

━━★✼☆��

y/n smiled as she waved off the last group of kids, the small children giving her tight hugs before running off to their parents. She truly loved her job; she couldn't ask for anything other than the life she has right now but something has always been devoid. Alas, being a primary school teacher with an 8-year-old son can keep you busy enough to forget about your past problems.

"Muuum," Theo dragged on as he danced around one desk lazily, "when are we going home, I've got some cartoons to watch," he said snappily, y/n debated on whether she should call her son out on his attitude.

"Soon, you little devil," y/n replied, still happily dismissing her students. Seeing as most of the kids had gone or having a chat with their parents, y/n took that as a sign to pack up her classroom.

"I think Molly has a crush on me," Theo told y/n with a wide grin on his face. She stared up at him with a matching smile.

"Really, how do you know that?" y/n asked cheekily, she waited for her son's answer but only got a shrug and a sigh. She chestily laughed as she started to pack up her bag. "That's not an answer little man!"

"Ask James, he agrees with me," Theo defended.

"You two have really been making a ruckus in my classroom, I should probably split you two up," y/n falsely threatened as she slipped on a small touch up of her pale red lip gloss.

Theo immediately ran to the front of her desk with sad eyes, "please don't mum, we'll be extra good," Theo lifted his pinky finger to wave in her face, "I pinky promise."

y/n stared down and captured his tiny finger with hers, sealing the deal. As she grabbed the rest of her things from underneath her desk, she heard the small pitter patter of an extra pair of feet.

"Hi, Ms.y/l/n" a soft worried voice called out, y/n lifted her head to see James Holland with his bottom lip trembling and his eyes filling with hot tears not daring to spill over. y/n almost jumped over the desk to comfort the young boy.

"Oh James, what's the matter?" she asked gently as she gently wiped the liquid from his cheeks.

"I was supposed to-to be picked up-p a long t-t-time ago," James told her through stifled sobs. y/n felt her heart shatter with absolute sadness for this little boy. It had been an hour since school ended, his parents must be late. "I was wondering if I could go home with you until my dad or his assistant can come and get me."

y/n knew that James's dad did some shady business. She wasn't dumb; she picked up on everything. Whenever his so-called assistant would come to get James she would always ask what he did to dress so sharply and the blonde would constantly have a different answer or sometimes he would deflect the question altogether. She also noticed the gun that lay hidden underneath his jacket and the small pocket knives around his waist. She never thought too much about it because James was the sweetest kid on the planet and he made Theo thrilled, she would not take that away from him by alerting the police to a threat that she had nothing but a hunch about.

Theo burst into a roar of excited cheers as soon as the sentence fell off James's lips. y/n shushed her son before turning back to James. "As much as both of us would love that, you can't come home with us without your dad's permission."

"Can't you just call him?" James exclaimed as he corked an eyebrow at her, as small blush arose on her cheeks; sometimes she felt dumber than the kids. As school policy goes, y/n must have a small binder with all the parents' contacts in case of emergencies.

"Great idea," she complimented as she quickly went to make the phone call. Her finger skimmed around the book, finding the last name Holland and the first name Tom underneath James's page. She had heard that name before she just can identify where. Either way, she rang and someone answered after a few rings.

"Hello?" a male voice called out.

"Hi, this is Ms. y/l/n," y/n told him sweetly. "I have James here saying that nobody has picked him up yet," she told him.

"Fuck, I knew I forgot something!" the voice shouted, y/n was 99% sure the boys could hear it, "shit, Tom will gut me like a fish," the man sounded worried and flustered with panic and fear.

"Wait, who am I exactly talking to?" she pondered.

"Harrison, I'm Tom's assistant." Harrison rolled the assistant slowly. An obvious diversion that she wasn't idiotic enough to fall for.

"Well, if it makes any difference, Theo and James have just made plans for James to come home with myself and Theo," she spoke quietly. "Would that be okay?"

The line was silent for a second or two before Harrison quickly responded, "Yes that will be fine, someone will pick him up around 6," he snapped at her before cutting off the line abruptly.

y/n stared at her phone for a moment before she stared at the boys with a wide gleam. "You're coming home with us James and its homemade pizza for dinner tonight!"

With that, the pair of boys rejoiced and the three of them walked out of the classroom and towards the exit.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom sat in his impressively large chair, his eyes never leaving the clock that lay between photos of his family and his son James. He had been in meetings all day with people that pissed him the fuck off. All Tom had been looking forward to is seeing his son and spending his time playing with James. But yet, it had been an hour since he should have been out of school, meaning he should have been home 20 minutes ago. There as a few harsh knocks, Tom instantly knew who it was.

"Got some news mate," Harrison told him before he had even entered the room.

Tom let his head lean back and a hoarse groan slips out, "it better be good otherwise, I don't want to fucking hear it," Tom spat, "I've been in meetings all day, just wanna see my son."

"About that." Harrison trailed off. Tom felt his heart stop. He instantly rushed over to Harrison's side. "I forgot to pick James up from school today and-"

"You absolute dumbass!" Tom roared. "Other Mob bosses know who he is. I can't have him walking the school ground by himself he'll get bloody kidnapped!" Tom started to ramble, he hardly ever did such an infantile act. He hadn't rambled since James was left on his doorstep with a note saying he was Tom's son and that was eight years ago!

Tom couldn't help but feel guilt rack his body, a million thoughts ran through his mind and he felt as if he was on the verge of tears, but he refuses to let even one go. Suddenly, he snapped out of it and almost sprinted towards Harrison. His hands clasped around Harrison's collar and brought him in so fast, Harrison's knees buckled at the force and skidded across the hard floor. "If you didn't pick him up, where the fuck is he?"

Tom watched as Harrison gulped loudly. Tom hated getting violent with Harrison, but with the safety of his son. Tom would mow downfield of people if it meant James was alive.

"He is with his teacher and her son. She said that I have to pick him up later," Harrison told him weepily. Tom didn't know if it relieved him to know that his son was with good hands with his teacher, who Tom had only heard good things about from Harrison or that his right-hand man let his son go off with a woman Tom has never met. "Listen, she said they are making homemade pizza and that we are welcome to join her when I go pick James up."

"Hm, pick him up when it is necessary," Tom grunted as he walked off, suddenly much calmer than he was before. Harrison regained his composure and ran to Tom's side.

"No, I think you should go pick him up," Harrison told him. Coming from anyone else, Tom would have their tongue cut out, but Tom felt obliged to let it slide after his recent outburst at Harrison. "I think it would be good for James to see his own father come pick him up for once and it wouldn't hurt to meet Ms. y/l/n," Harrison spoke the last part with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Before you scheme and manipulate your way into making me do something, you know I don't want any woman taking advantage of me- again," Tom hated saying that sentence, he hated giving James's mother the satisfaction that she broke the heart of the world's hardest mobster. That a dancer from a strip club he owned broke the one heart that was never meant to; his. Tom took it as a sign that love wasn't in his card, only single parenthood. Though deep down, Tom wanted someone else, he didn't want to sleep around with expensive strippers and high-end prostitutes for the rest of his life, he would not die with that being his greatest achievement in the sex department. He'd never admit that to a single soul.

"Come on, get back on the horse," Harrison told him gleefully, "She's a nice woman and you've always complained that all the girlfriends you've had since James have hated children, well she works with your son almost every day. There's a fucking jackpot right in front of you, mate."

Tom groaned in disapproval, "How do you even know she's single, she got an 8-year-old son, she's married" he sighed

"You have an eight-year-old and you aren't fucking married you twat," Harrison scoffed, "plus I've never seen a ring on that finger," he held up his ringer finger and swirling it in his face.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Harrison," Tom complained as he smacked Harrison hand away, "I think it's time to give up, my schedule is too busy, I can barely see my own fucking son!" Tom called out as he rested his hands on his hair, "How can I sustain an actual relationship?"

Harrison said nothing but stared at his best friend. To Harrison, Tom looked flustered, angry and tense. Harrison knew that Tom blamed only himself for the misfortunes in his life, even though all the shit that was happening to him wasn't his fault at all.

Tom could see Harrison was pondering at him. He hated it. "If I do this, will you give it a fucking rest," Tom compromised. Harrison looked at him smugly.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n stood at the messy benches of her kitchen, shredded cheese fell everywhere and a three quarterly cut pepperoni stick was about to fall off. A warm and delicious smell over the house from the full oven; it was her favourite thing. Currently, y/n was finely chopping basil and rosemary while the two boys sat at the island table, flour and sauce almost covered the entire table and the power creates a ring around the boys.

"Now, Theo do you want to tell James how to lay the pepperoni to make sure it doesn't get all soggy," y/n asked him sweetly, trusting him enough to not have to turn around completely.

"Yesmum!" Theo called out as if she wasn't in the same room. She chuckled to herself before she dumped the herbs into a bowl and came over to the table, sitting on one of the free chairs.

y/n watched as Theo taught James the perfect placing of pepperoni on the spare pizza. It was if y/n intrigue of James's father had hit an all-time high as she stared at the young boy. Before she taught James, she remembers hearing a lot of rumours about James's father from the other teachers and even other mothers about how he was mysterious and them handsome. She used to giggle at the rumours; she supposed that some lonely suburban housewives concocted the rumours, that they had nothing better to do than lust after the young bachelor because their husbands can find the g-spot.

But now that she is teaching James, the rumours seem to come alive the longer she knows the boy. She can't help but fall into the trap of her primal curiosity because of a stranger she's never even met and that very stranger could deal with a shady past or worse a shady present.

"So, James, how your dad?" y/n asked innocently. James stopped placing the toppings to talk to her (much to Theo's disapproval).

"Oh, he's awesome, I don't get to see him a lot but when I do it's amazing," James squealed happily. y/n cocked her eyebrow at the boy.

"What do you mean, you don't get to see him a lot', doesn't your dad pick you up from school every day," y/n pressed, she knew she shouldn't be asking him these types of questions but she couldn't help it and James seemed happy enough to answer.

"My dad partner picks me up, his name's Harrison, and he's the best," James smiled widely as Theo tried to get him to pay attention.

"So, what does your dad do?" y/n queered again, genuinely interested in James' answer. The little boy scratched his head a bit before shrugging his shoulders in confusion, y/n laughed sweetly. "You know how I work as your teacher-"

"And you're the best!" James cut her off suddenly.

"Thank you, but what does your dad do during the day," she spoke quietly but it appeared James got the memo.

"My dad does deals with people where he shouts at them and sometimes, I see this icky dark red stuff on him, but dad just tells me it's just paint," James replied sweetly unaware of y/n shocked face. Sure, she had her doubts and suspicions, but she never expected them to be true. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She has the son of Tom fucking Holland in her house, likely without his knowledge. She'd be lucky if Tom leaves her bloody and bruised. y/n didn't want to believe that this angelic and adorable boy has the world's most feared mobster has a father. How the fuck did she not notice the queue with all the bodyguards that come along to pickup time, the expensive stuff that he brings to class and why Harrison is always wearing a very expensive suit just to bring an eight-year-old back home.

"We're done, ma," Theo called her out of her anxiety-driven haze. She smiled sheepishly as she took the pizzas from the boys and put them in the oven. "Are you okay, mum?" Theo asked again as he crawled off the chair and went to throw the scraps in the bin.

"Yes sweetheart," y/n replied shakily. What was she going to say to him, how was she going to explain, how is she going to keep her son safe, what if she-

Ding!

The doorbell rang, the sound almost deafened her. y/n steadied her nerves and walked over to open the door. Outside stood two bulky 6'4" men and a nicely dressed one in the middle. For some odd reason, y/n felt her cheeks heat and her heart rate pick up. The messily pushed back brown curls seemed to fall perfectly in place and frame his face. Massive diamond rings laced his fingers as he slightly tapped at his wrist, that she might add was decorated stunningly with pronounced veins that made her weak.

"Um, welcome," y/n spoke quietly, the man in the middle (who she assumed was Tom) stared at her darkly before stepping inside. The warm lighting of her hallway seemed to illuminate Tom's features y/n noticed the sharp jaw, and she was just able to make out his dark brown eyes underneath the Versace sunglasses. "Hi, you m-must be James's dad, I'm Theo's mum; y/n," she extended her hand to meet his.

Since she opened the door, entrancement seemed to flow through him. Sure, it wasn't romantically at first, but the woman surely intrigued him. She had her hair tucked behind her slightly sauced ears and behind a flour-covered apron seemed to be a tight-fitting red pin-up dress, which he compliments shows off her curves nicely. Tom felt like he had to smile at her, not in a joking way but in a way that he couldn't explain. In a way that he had to smile when he saw Tessa trip over her own feet. It was adorable; she was adorable.

When he heard her speak, it felt like a breath of fresh air had hit him. He felt as if he was in his childhood home again and she was the beautiful nanny Tom would have had a crush on. Tom felt instantly out of place when he walked in. He was so used to the dark setting and furniture of his massive mansion. He was so used to walking the long empty halls and going to bed in a vacantly giant room. Now though, her home felt so cosy. The walls were tight enough to feel warm but wide enough to not squeeze you. The rooms seemed busy with colours and clothes and her kitchen was small but still seemed homey.

In an act of complete defiance to himself, Tom thought he could live here if he wanted, and he wanted to. It was so different from his regularly scheduled life, her home, her arrangement and even y/n herself made Tom feel so out of place that he had to give her all his undying attention as if she was a magnet of everything Tom needed to balance his life. What the fuck is going on with him? So he snapped himself out of it.

"Where's my son," Tom asked her. He tried not to sound like a total dick, but it was hard not to. Tom felt worse when he saw y/n flinch slightly after he snapped, "I'm sorry," Tom has never apologised to anyone other than his son, he has to get his shit together quickly.

"Oh no, it's okay," y/n smiled warmly, the apology from the mobster made her feel a little better about her situation. "James is hanging out with Theo, you're welcome to stay if you'd like," she invited. Tom felt like he had to stay, and it didn't help that when James saw him in the hallway, he started to cry and whine.

Tom immediately ran to his side, but James pushed him away and hugged Theo, which he happily reciprocated.

"No, I'm not going, you can't make me!" James yelled furiously as he turned his back to his father. Tom sighed loudly. He bent down and placed his hand against James's back.

"Come on, little man, I don't want to intrude," Tom explained sweetly, his hand rubbing small circles. y/n didn't know a man such as Tom Holland could speak that softly and sweetly; it made her want to swoon.

"He's not in-intruding Mr Holland," Theo told her quietly. Tom noticed the boy had stumbled over the hard word. He couldn't help but admit defeat and regained his composure.

"Harrison told me you were making pizzas, it's been a while since I've had some well at least homemade ones," Tom announced loudly, "so I guess we are staying."

The two boys rejoice before they made their way back to the TV and left Tom and y/n by themselves. y/n awkwardly made her way to the kitchen, and Tom dismissed the two bodyguards behind him and happily followed her.

As he walked down the hallway, he took slight notice of the different photos that hung on the walls. Most of them were of Theo, one had him in a karate uniform holding a trophy and a toothy smile while another had a photo of y/n and Theo at the park. Tom couldn't help but smile at them. Once more did he have the feeling of need for all of this to be in his life, he wanted more, correction he needed more. He squeezed through her slim doorway and stumbled into y/n's endearingly kitchen.

He had never seen a mess like her kitchen; he saw flour on the floor and sauce on the cupboards. Tom couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his lips as he sat opposite her.

Tom wasn't an idiot. He could see how scared he was making her just by sitting closer to her. y/n on the other end of the table was almost shitting herself, she could feel her throat becoming dry and tried her best to avoid connecting their eyes even if she desperately wanted another peek at his warm brown eyes.

Tom stared at her with guilt racking his body, "I will not hurt you," Tom told her gently and for some odd reason, he fought back the urge to hold her trembling hand as he spoke. y/n didn't believe him, she knew deep down that this is what he says to his victims before he blows their fucking brains out, until "I promise." Tom had even surprised himself with his words. He has promised nothing other than when he promised his son he could ice-cream for dinner one night, Tom wasn't sure what was washing over him but worse he didn't know if he liked the feeling or not.

Tom waited for her response. He waited for y/n to give him any cue to tell him she felt safe around him. Finally, y/n lifted her eyes to meet his. Tom hadn't really gotten a good look at the door. Her eyes matched her whole persona, it almost entranced him. They were young but filled with such wisdom and knowledge; he didn't know what to do. It was an obvious y/ec, but it was like he was experiencing the colour for the first time in his 27 year life.

y/n slowly lifted her eyes to meet his and Tom's heart jumped into his throat. Never has a woman had this effect on him; it addicted him. Tom spotted a faint smile on her sauce, dusted lips and couldn't help but return the favour. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be this cold towards you," she spoke softly.

"Oh, it's fine. I get it all the time," Tom responded with a small giggle.

"That's awful," y/n immediately protested, her full attention on him.

"What I do is awful sweetheart, it comes with the job," he told her as he leaned back in his chair. y/n pulled back, how could she be so dumb?

Tom noticed her sudden shift in mood and cleared the air, "I don't mean to pry but is Theo's father around, I didn't notice him in any of the photos," Tom asked awkwardly, he genuinely wanted to know but immediately realised his mistake, "or is that not a talking topic?"

"No, it's okay," y/n responded with a light chuckle, something Tom desperately wanted to hear more of, "Theo's dad and I split badly and I haven't spoken to him in years," the memory still haunts y/n but she could only let fragmented pieces out at a time, "Theo has never met his father and I intend on keeping it that way."

Tom's brain started to concoct a sadly romantic fairy tale with both of them but he quickly scolded himself. Suddenly, y/n perked up. She jumped from the table, took one pizza out of the oven, and started to cut it.

"What about you?" y/n asked with her back turned.

"What about me?" Tom responded, nobody has ever asked him that.

"A good-looking man like you with a son has to be married," y/n exclaimed before placing a pizza in front of them both and calling for the boys, giving them their pizza.

"Sadly, no, I'm not married," Tom chuckled as he picked up a piece. "I had James with his mother on a whim I guess." Tom saw y/n cocked her eyebrow in confusion. "That's all I'm letting out." Tom crossed his arms and leaned away.

y/n though leaned in and batted her eyelashes, "No, you got me intrigued," y/n whined. "If you tell me, I will tell you my backstory the next time we meet."

"We're going to meet again?" Tom smirked widely, suddenly pulled into her spell. Tom saw the heat rise to her cheeks and her face scrunch up as she tried to rack her brain for a proper answer. She was gorgeous; he wanted to stare at her face for all eternity.

"O-of course," she stuttered, tripping over her own tongue suddenly. She doesn't know why she's acting like this. Sure he's a godly handsome man that is ticking all of her boxes in a matter of moments but her brain seems to keep forgetting that she's sitting just a few feet away from the King of the English Mafia. A man who could kill her in a second, still she couldn't help the primal attraction that was cursing through her.

Tom held his hand out to her. "All right darling, it's a deal," he spoke lowly. Any logical person would have kept their hand to themselves. Any reasonable educated person would not raise their hand and shake Tom's. y/n was a logical and educated woman, but not with Tom around. So she took his hand in hers and shook slowly.

"Jame's was- how do I say this? Not planned." Tom sighed as he played with the pizza in front of him. "When I first got control over the Mafia. I bought this strip club just down the street. I used to go in there almost every night. I thought if I went in it would make me feel like a true Mafia King. The Mafia King who sleeps with whoever he wants whenever he wants, but I guess I am more of a romantic than I thought. There was this girl, she was interesting, and I found her mesmerising from the second I saw her. So like an idiot I started to see her only, I bought her things, I gave her safety and let her decide in the Mob. I guess one night I forgot to put on a condom and she left me the very next night. Nine months later, James was wailing on my doorstep with a small note saying 'I am so sorry, he's yours and I can't look after him', I still remember the words on that stupid fucking note," Tom felt his voice crack, he peered over to James who was eating his pizza and pretending to fight the bad guys on the T.V, "I adore my son with every fibre in my being but I just wish things were a little different."

Tom swivelled around and saw y/n almost in tears, "I'm sorry," y/n snapped out of her emotional haze and started to wipe away some tears, "I don't know what came over me."

"That's all right, my mum was in tears for days after James arrived." Tom stared down, remembering the feelings of the room on that day, "happy tears."

y/n felt an overwhelming surge of emotion hit her like a truck. She has heard no one talk with such passion. "Wow, that's um-" she blushed, "quite a story."

Tom gave her a weak smile. He noticed the blush that bubbled to the surface of his cheeks. Tom noticed a lot of other things while she sat opposite him. He noticed the small dimples that would peak out if she smiled. He noticed the freckles that perfectly sprinkled her skin. He was sure that if he sat here for long enough, he could count every one of them.

"Is there something on my face?" y/n's concerned voice snapped him out of his lovesick haze. Tom shook his head slightly before y/n took the back of her hand to wipe the non-existing grime off her cheek only to smear sauce all over her.

"Well, now there is," Tom laughed before he leaned over and wiped the sauce with his napkin. y/n came closer to help him reach her but in the process only pushed her cleavage up, causing Tom's chair to slide out from under him. Their faces were so close, y/n felt the warmth from Tom's body wafting and swirling around her as if he was entrancing her. Problem was, she was fully under his spell now.

"Are you going to kiss my dad?" James ecstatic voice called out abruptly. y/n almost fell off her chair just from the pair eyes. Theo was standing just behind James with a smile that matched his friend as they watched their parents compose themselves.

Tom tried to piece an answer to give his son while still leaving his options open with y/n. "None of your business little man," Tom faked growled as he tickled James and Theo's bellies, causing them to run off squealing with excitement.

Tom turned around to face her, the faint glow of the kitchen made y/n look like an angel. He felt overwhelming an urge to fall to his knees and pray to her, but he slid it to back of his mind. Hoping that maybe he could do it soon.

They talked for what seemed like a second but in reality; they had been talking for an hour. Tom would give every cent away just to keep hearing her sweet-like honey voice. y/n as well couldn't get enough of him, the more she allowed herself to open up to him the more she seemed to love his company. He was intelligent, well-spoken and off the record; he was so goddamn attractive. y/n believes she was to go to the nearest church just for having him near her. Still, he made her feel safe. He made her feel something that she hasn't felt since Theo's father left her. It scared her. Her heart picked up and her brain started to overwork itself. He was just humouring her; he would leave her in a heartbeat; he's got rows of women begging to sleep with him, why would he want her?

"Oh god, w-would you look at the t-time," y/n stuttered as she rushed to get him out of the house before she broke down in tears. y/n jumped out of her chair and almost threw the plates into the sink.

Tom stood up in a panic. He was having a wonderful time with her, why was she so eager to get herself alone?

"It's only a quarter to ten," Tom chuckled as he checked the watch on his wrist. y/n didn't want to make him leave. If it were up to her, she would let the kids' sleepover and pull him into her sheets as fast as possible but her subconscious had other plans.

"I'm sure the King of The Mafia has a busy schedule," she replied as she ran to get the boys' plates and get them back to the kitchen. She was right, Tom did have a lot happening tomorrow. He was most likely going to get his hands dirty. He kept his mouth shut on that remembrance.

"Well, how about you come over to mine tomorrow night," Tom suggested. y/n stood dead in her tracks. "I need to repay you for this wonderful night." A blush formed on her cheeks.

She sighed and before she could even let a single syllable out-, "We would love to Mr. Holland!" Theo's voice shot up. His head appeared just behind her with a straight smile. Tom immediately matched Theo's, knowing y/n couldn't refuse the two of them.

"Yes, we would love to and we will-" y/n head dropped, "and we will be there."

Tom let himself fist bump the air as he went to get James off the couch. "How's 9:30 sound, I have some stuff to deal with beforehand?"

"Sounds g-great," y/n sighed. Tom quickly pecked her cheek as he went for the door. y/n turned to him in disbelief.

"Can't wait angel," Tom whispered just before he closed the door. Jesus Christ, he would be the death of her.

"He seems like a nice guy," Theo blank voice rang out. He leaned up against the back of the couch as he raised his eyebrows at y/n suggestively. she gave him a light smack on his arm.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom sat in his chair. The cloud of smoke and the sounds of ragged panting wafted over the room. Percy's head drooped low as he waited.

"Where's your fucking brother Percy?" Tom asked non-nonchalantly. His eyes never wavered off the man.

"Like I told you buffoons before," Percy lifted his head weakly, "I have no clue where my crackhead brother is," Tom glimpsed his prize. Percy's sweaty hair stuck to his head, the crusted blood started to fall from the gash on eyebrow onto his bound feet. Percy stared at him with one eye open; all he could achieve. Tom smiled gleefully.  

"Don't you fucking lie to me, you little shithead!" Tom roared. His hands slammed down on the desk. Everyone to jump. Tom paced around to lean on the front of his marble desk. "I have some very important people coming in about-" Tom glanced at his watch, "10 minutes."

"I will not rat my own fucking brother out," Percy responded defiantly. Tom's patience was thinning with every tick of the clock.

"I don't want to hurt you, Percy," Tom faked a smile, "not tonight at least. So you better make this quicker than me taking a fucking piss." One of his men pulled Percy's hair back, "Where is you goddamn brother."

Percy felt the barrel of Tom's gun roughly shoved up against his temple. He fought back a tear. "Columbia, trying to smuggle your drugs into Ecuador," Percy revealed.

The door swung open to reveal a completely un-phased Harrison. "They're here."

Tom immediately straightened up. "Perfect Timing!" Tom started to his men, "get rid of him." As his men dragged Percy out of his office. Tom straightened his coat as wiped off the dried blood on his chin. Harrison chuckled lightly before Tom ran out.

"They're in the upstairs hallway," Harrison called out, but Tom was already too far gone. 

The massive painting loomed over y/n. She had completely forgotten how powerful Tom was, the matter that Tom commanded respect had slipped her mind. He stood in a black suit. Like something straight out a mobster movie. she giggled to herself at that thought.

"I begged my mother not to have me painted, but she insisted," Tom called out to her. y/n jumped at his voice but softened when she saw him approaching in the same outfit as the portrait.

"Well I think you look devilishly handsome," y/n responded with a wide smile, a smile that made Tom's heart flutter. As he got closer, he noticed the absence of a certain 8-year-old.

"Where's the munchkin?" he asked as he searched around her.

"He's upstairs with James. He took Theo's hand and ran off as soon as we stepped into the door," she laughed. Tom couldn't help but smile along with her. He wondered if she let this side of her out often. Genuinely giddy and joyous. "Do you look at most women like this?" She broke his concentration. y/n stood there with her eyebrow quirked and a smirk plastered on her face. Tom begged whatever god was up there to allow him just a single kiss.

"Only to you, angel," Tom responded, his pearly white teeth shining through a wide smile. y/n's cheeks flustered and her whole face glowed red. He was pushing all of her buttons, wasn't he?

"Come upstairs, I want to show you something," Tom exclaimed as he captured y/n's hand within his. Tom led her up a small flight of stairs and into a large room. The dim bedroom had red plastered everywhere. The carpet was a soft red velvet and the sheet; a luxurious red and black silk. Hell even the walls were painted with a deep maroon. y/n looked over to him with shock. "Dont worry sweetheart, the surprise is outside," Tom chuckled before his calloused hand landed on the small of her back nudging her softly. y/n's breath hitched into the back of her throat.

y/n pushed the glass doors. The dense forest of trees sparkled in the bright moonlight. The faint glow of London's lights dimmed in the background. She knew this might not have been the most aesthetically pleasing view, but it felt more than it looked. The safety and security of the view made her swoon. "Is this a date, Mr. Holland?" y/n smirked as she sat down in the glass chair.

Tom had never heard his last name sound so sweet.

"Only if you want it to be Ms. y/l/n," he responded, quickly trying to conceal his blush.

She stared out for a moment. y/n didn't know why, but she felt like a shy teenager again. A girl sitting next to a hot guy who has no real interest in her. It was nostalgic in some sick way.

They talked for hours. Tom couldn't get enough of her. It was like she was some beautiful drug. A drug so addictive, he's hooked after one night. Every time a laugh surpassed her soft lips, Tom can't help but let his heart flutter. She, too, was quite enjoying herself. y/n let her walls down slowly but surely. The more he talked, the more she leaned. The more she felt as though this was fate. That though was a juvenile thing to even fathom. So y/n wondered what her life would have been if she met Tom before her ex. Would she be happy or would she still be silently crying to herself to make sure Theo didn't hear even a peep.

A curt knock at the door interrupted them. A middle age woman peeked her head in.

"They're both in bed," she spoke happily. "It took a while to get Theo off to sleep though."

y/n giggled, "I'm not surprised."

Tom stared at her for a moment, imagining that Theo and James were their sons, and she was his wife who always seemed to amaze him. Maybe in the near future, he thought to himself.

"Thank you Ms Smith," Tom smiled warmly at her, y/n looked over to him in childlike shock.

"You have a nanny!" y/n poked Tom in his bicep. He gently swatted her finger away.

"Less about me, angel," Tom sighed. "Now, we had a deal," Tom's eyebrow cocked, and a smirk filled his face.

y/n smiled weakly at him. I will need a shit ton of booze, she thought. She grabbed the bottle of expensive wine and poured herself a glass. She gulped it down. Then she poured another one, drinking it down quicker than the first one. Finally, one more glass of wine went down, and she was ready to open her mouth.

"Mind saving a little for me, angel." Tom chuckled lightly, y/n made work getting him a glass (and more for herself wouldn't hurt.)

"Okay, so it was my last year of high school. I had been fawning over this guy since I was twelve. Then, out of nowhere, he's pulling me into empty stalls and telling me he can't be without me and he's in love with me," y/n started, she was cut off by the man next to her.

"How could he not?" Tom quipped as he took a small gulp of his wine. y/n gave him a hard glare as she tried to steal his attention away from the flush of her cheeks.

"Anyway, it took a bit of time but like the idiot I am, I gave in. We went on a few dates; we were happy for a good while. Until those two stupid fucking lines," she felt her voice break. Her head started to feel dizzy. Like it would roll off her neck will the snap of a finger. "Maybe, I was feeling all maternal, and I told him I was pregnant. To my surprise, he stayed with me for my first trimester. He refused to tell his parents, I of course, had to confess to mine. Sometimes I think that was the first red flag. It wasn't until the middle of my third trimester things went downhill. It's normal for women to put on a little weight when they're pregnant. Obviously, he didn't have a fucking clue." y/n felt herself, get more furious and more upset with every word that rolled off her tongue. "He started telling me 'You look enormous', 'I have a fat whale for a girlfriend, 'I wish you had aborted that thing, so I wouldn't have to look at you like this'," She was in tears now, the salty liquid dripped from her cheeks onto her dress. Tom knelt in front of her, his hands rubbing small circles on her knees. "He abandoned me, right when it counted." She started him. Tom felt his heart shatter. "Everyone leaves me Tom."

"I'll never leave you, y/n" Tom reassured her, he took her shaking hands in his. y/n peered down, she shook her head.

"Tom, you don't want me," y/n sobbed, "No one does, it's okay."

"y/n," Tom hovered above her, his palms rested on her warm cheeks. "I want you, more than I have ever wanted something in my life." Their eyes met. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

y/n was in disbelief, her hands rested on his wrist. Her cries stopped as soon as she felt his thumb stroking soft circles on her cheek.

Tom still saw that look in her eyes. The look of a woman so broken by a man who never loved her, who took advantage of her admiration. Something Tom needed more than air to breathe. He was making it his mission, that y/n would not leave his home until she finally knew that not only did her son appreciate her, but he did just as much.

So, he took a chance. He bent down and encaptured her lips with his. She tasted like everything, he dreamt of. She tasted like the cakes his mother would make for him on his birthday. She was the breath of sweet excitement when he smelled homemade pancakes. It surprised him he hadn't completely dissolved at this simple touch.

y/n sat in shock for a moment. Her brain tried to catch up to his movements. He didn't move against at first. She pressed into it. Her hands gripping slightly at his wrists as she reciprocated the tender kiss. She, too, felt the satisfaction of knowing what he too tasted like. She took notes of all the little details; the taste of freshly smoked nicotine, the smell of his cologne wafted around her; the pronounced viens in his hands. She was in heaven.

Their lips moved against each other. It wasn't needy or rushed. It was steady and passionate. y/n has experienced a kiss like this in her 24-year-old life. "Take me to the bedroom," she spoke through mousey breathless moans. Tom pulled away completely at this.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you," Tom told her sweetly, y/n hands caress his cheek gently as she gave him a warm smile.

"You're not taking advantage of me Tom," she stood from her chair, never letting her eyes tear from his, "I want this."

Tom beamed. His hands snaked their way to the underside of her bum, pinching softly. Instructing her to jump, which she happily obliged. y/n could feel him, grasp at her bare thighs. Every time he touched her skin, it burned with sinful passion.

Perhaps it was the one too many wines she had downed in less than a minute or that this was the first man she's really been intimate with since Theo's father left. Either way, her skin felt so susceptible to each kiss her laid on her. Hyper sensitive to every pull at her skin. So responsive to his touches.

Tom took his time laying her on the sheets. He took his time to look at her flushed skin in the dim lighting at how she looked like something sent from God. Why God was sending him something in the first place was a question for later. As he sauntered away from her to lock the door, y/n noticed the decor until the feeling dawned on her. Was she really about to sleep with Mafia King; Tom Holland. She had only one answer- obso-fucking-lutely.

Tom tenderly pushed her onto her back, his face now level to hers. y/n thought she looked as red as a tomato, Tom would agree but wouldn't protest at all. He laid a soft kiss to her lips, then a slightly harder one to her neck, then to her collarbone. His hands snaked up her dress. His fingers clutched her hips, pulling her clothed heat closer to his already painful hard groin.

y/n watched every move he made, every attempt to bruise her skin. Tom whined quietly when his lips met the fabric instead of her flesh. y/n giggled and lifted her dress over head and onto the floor next to her.

Tom couldn't help but pull away to take a glimpse of her. Her flushed breasts hidden behind a plain black bra. Most wouldn't think too much of it, but he couldn't help himself. Tom could see her hardened nipples peeking through the material. He pulled the cup down slightly. Tom heard her hiss quietly at the sudden exposure. His lips came down to the bud gently. His teeth pulling at the erect skin ever so lightly only to flick the nub quickly. Hearing her quiet moans and praises spurred him on. He needed more.

"T-tom please," y/n whimpered quietly, her fingers tangling themselves in his messed brown curls. Tom smirked up at her.

"What are you begging for angel face," Tom asked her innocently.

y/n couldn't get a single word out with Tom's fingers dancing at the skin near her soaked panties. Even dipping underneath them for split seconds.

"Do something, with y-your," she struggled. Tom was enjoying every moment. "f-fingers."

"Your wish is my command," Tom rasped out as he pulled her panties down her legs and got between them. He let his pointer finger paint a long strip up her slit. y/n's hips buckled. "You're so wet doll, being such a good girl."

y/n could only let out a hum. Tom wanted to hear that divine voice of hers, so he blew a wisp of air against her clit making her cry out. He was lucking the boys' rooms where so far from here. "Look at me, I want to see those gorgeous eyes gloss over when I make you cum," he promised as he laid a chaste kiss to her inner left thigh. y/n couldn't wait another moment, she might explode. Slowly her eyes met his. His face was mere centimeters from her cunt.

Tom didn't take a second longer. As soon as her eyes were on him, he went in hard. His tongue latched onto her throbbing clit, pulling and sucking so hard it was audible for the both of them to fawn over. He couldn't forget about the promise he made, so his digits circled her hole delicately before he slipped two of his fingers into her.

y/n felt her whole body go numb. It was a feeling so exotic to her. Yet, here she was. Barely able to make a sentence as she tried to bite back constant moans that begged to be let out. Her toes curled even picking up some sheets beneath her.

Tom could feel her fingers pulled at the roots of his hair. He couldn't but moan against her pussy, causing vibrations in every nerve in her already sensitive body.

"Oh my god, y-yes," She let slip. y/n swears she's starting to see stars now. "F-fucking hell, you're a-amazing."

Tom allowed his fingers to hit deeper inside her with that comment. He was making her cum now, or he will blow without even feeling her yet. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happens. He pulled his mouth away from her clit with a loud pop, letting his digits do all the work. He watched her writhe and pull at anything she could grasp. God, she was so fucking perfect.

"Christ, j-just like that," y/n encouraged him, "I'm going to c-cum."

"Do it angel face, cum all around my fingers." Tom whispered to her, "let me taste your sweetness."

y/n felt her first orgasm wash over her like a tsunami. She needed to scream her heart out but quickly smothered her moan in the pillows beside her. Tom peered at her intently. To him, he was watching an angel. Seeing her cum is now his new favourite thing. Being the one to cause such pleasure within her makes him feel as though he's on top of the world. His fingers rode her through her orgasm until she hit the end. Her hair sprawled out as she tried to catch any breath left in her lungs. Hell, she was trying to regain some of her sight. Tom brought his fingers to his mouth. His tongue licked them clean. Her juices tasted like nothing he's ever had before and he immediately knows, there is no way he's letting this go.

Tom stripped himself bare now. He crawled above her once more. His curls falling slightly in his face. y/n opened her eyes to see him on top of her. y/n took this moment to run her hand down his torso. Each time her fingers lapped over a muscle, she felt herself recapture her arousal. Her fingers found the base of his dick.

He was bigger than what she thought, bigger than her ex. It started her a tad when she felt his hard length. She started pumping his slowly. Tom's arms almost buckled at the feeling.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to cum into your hand," his pulled her wrist away from him to above her head, "and I just want to pound this sweet little cunt into oblivion." The words cause y/n to whimper, eager for him to fulfill his promise.

"Then do it," she leaned up to whisper in his ear. As she pulled back, he locked eyes with her. Utter shock and an animalistic urge filled his every thought. He didn't even give her a warning before he slammed right into her. y/n cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Tom couldn't believe the feeling. She was hugging every vein, every mark, every inch of his cock and yet so was still so fucking tight. He pulled out of her, only to ram back into her. "Fucking hell, you're divine," Tom growled, still deep inside of her. Slowly, he picked up a rhythm.

Every part of y/n's post was filled the brim by him. He hit her g-spot almost instantly. His name became a chant to her as it never ceased to spill from her lips. Each time he pounded back into her, y/n's voice became horse and rougher. Her nails dug into his bag as she clawed for support. Any support she could get from him.

Tom's been with countless women. Now he's finding it hard to sustain a sentence. He can hardly make out anything other than y/n's name. He wasn't complaining though, her tight walls constricting around with every movement. Tom wondered for a moment if he died and went to heaven and was fucking the dirtiest angel he could find.

"You look so goddamn beautiful taking my cock," he praised. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume made him almost lose his shit right there. "You feel so good squeezing around me."

Every word was threatening to her. Every word was pushing her closer to her limit. Every word was forcing more moans out of her mouth. "I'm going to cum, Tommy," she warned him.

The nickname only helped Tom lodge himself deeper and harder into her, "I am too, don't hold back angel face," he pressed a kiss underneath her ear.

y/n's second orgasm rolled over more intense the second time than the first. She pulled her head into his skin, biting and pulling to contain herself. Her legs gave out on her and flopped from his waist and quivered beside him. Tom was quick to follow her. How could he not, with how firmly she was gripping his cock. He pulled out quickly and spurted out streams across her belly. The white liquid dripping over her skin made him see stars.

He collapsed next to her, heaving and panting. y/n turned to him. She placed a long kiss on his lips, bringing his face closer. Tom happily hummed against her skin.

He pulled her into a tight hug. Her fingers traced the outline of his pec. "I'm infatuated with you," he told her plainly. y/n didn't move nor did she flinch. She  just stared up at him with a wide smile.

"As am I," she responded quietly. He wanted her to stay here forever, he had admitted to himself that he wanted to be near her for the rest his life. It was like she had cast some spell over him. He, though, had happily fallen for it.

In his eyes, she was a goddess among women.

━━★✼☆｡

[hunterguyveriv]

Kacxa Week two in one Customs/Traditions & AU

Here is my story for both Customs/Traditions (Day 2) and AU (Day 7). I wanted to touch on rights to mate which some historic warrior cultures in the real world and some in Sci-Fi go through. Where suitors must prove they are worthy of their mate. Some cultures fought the men of the woman’s family, some cultures the man had to dominate the woman, and even some Native American cultures stole horses from their enemies and other means. And this is where the AU comes into play...

I have that the only one that has the authority to give Acxa away, is Lotor. I sat there thinking, who could Keith challenge to prove he is worthy. I sat there for a good twenty minutes think, then it hit me LOTOR! So for this piece, I decided that it took place in a universe in which Lotor didn’t go off the deep end, where he and Allura became King and Queen of Altea, and ultimately giving old-timers like me a glimpse of the Keith and Lotor fight we so desperately wanted in Legendary Defender.

I hope you enjoy this 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Keep Reading~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cheering was getting louder and louder as he slowly walked down the hall to the main arena. He had just the bottom part of his suit that he wore during his trials. His hair was tied back into a ponytail. He had black war paint covering his face from the bridge of his nose up to his forehead, with white paint covering the rest of his face with two different patterns on his cheek. Something Acxa asked about, which he responded to honor his father, who hailed from Commanche blood.

He kept playing the conversation over and over in his head that he had with his mother and grandfather.

Krolia was sitting with both Keith and Acxa, she was explaining to them that for Acxa to be his Jhuk' uhn' dac < female dialect for a bonded mate for life> he must first prove his intentions with chuul-jechok <permission to joining a Galra’s family - typically done by the male Galra asking the family of a female Galra for their daughter to be his mate, but when the female’s family is dead it goes to the closest male considered family>. Which is typically followed by the Threkh’ Zera <ceremony in which the male suitor challenges the head male of her family for the right to mate.>

This worried Acxa because the only one she considered family was King Lotor of New Altea. When summoned to New Diabaazal for personal reasons, Lotor renounced Keith’s permission to bond with Acxa. Of Galra-Hybrids, he had considered Keith the weakest because of his human DNA. Something which greatly infuriated both Keith and Krolia. So Keith initiated the rehgael Vu Threkh <challenge to mate> Lotor not wanting to look both weak but also one not to step away from a challenge.

Keith looked to his Blade of Marmora blade. The cheering continued; it seemed like everyone came out for this event. Something that kind of got under Keith’s nerves.

Krolia: Keith, what are you doing?!

Keith: Proving I am worthy of being Acxa’s Grek' uhn' dak <male dialect for a bonded mate for life>.

Krolia: Yes, but by challenging someone who has never lost in a gladiator ring and getting yourself killed!?

Keith: This is something I must do.

Krolia: WHY?! I already lost my Grek' uhn' dak. I don’t want to lose my son!

Keith: Because I saw she was my Jhuk' uhn' dac. He renounced my permission, so I must prove myself worthy of his Pseudo-Sister’s hand.

Kolivan: Daughter, this is something he must do. It is our ways in which ensures the continuation of our bloodline.

Krolia: Doesn’t mean I have to like it!

Kolivan: Now remember, Lotor is a top-class fighter with thousands of kills under his belt, including his father’s. Attack fast, don’t let him get any advantage, use your training, and disconnect your emotion, and you should beat him.

Keith noticed he knicked his finger over this blade. Something in him decided to wipe the blood that came to the surface on his war-painted face. He started walking towards the tunnel exit, his sword held to the length of the back of his arm. He was blinded briefly by the change in light.

It was a small arena, namely due to personal nature. The only ones permitted to the Threkh’ Zera were the family and friends of the challenger and challengee and the Archivist. He saw her first, both smiled at each other, but both can tell that they were scared shitless. She places a hand on her stomach, which hadn’t gone unnoticed. He saw his mother and grandfather sit, and both Ezor and Zethrid enter the arena stands.

Lotor enters the arena confident and cocky. He only wears pants to just his armor. His hair is drawn back and braided. He carried his sword into the arena the same way Keith did his, blade against the back of his arm and hilt pointing to the ground. As with Keith, he had various scars over his body from battles lost, and the battles won. Both of them turn to see the newest of the Archivists approach his position. Both combatants stabbed the ground kneeling before the Archivist, with their left hand over the right side of their chests.

Archivist: We are here today for the reason of combat for love. Love is the most powerful of all emotions. It can make many strong, crazy; in most cases, it makes for a secure future for our warrior race! We have here…

He gestures to Lotor.

Lotor: LOTOR! SON OF EMPEROR ZARKON OF DIABAAZAL AND HONERVA OF ALTEA! KING BY MARRIAGE TO QUEEN ALLURA!

Archivist, gesturing to Keith: And…

Keith: KEITH! SON OF KROLIA AND TREVOR OF EARTH! PALADIN OF VOLTRON AND LEGACY MEMBER OF THE BLADE OF MARMORA!

Archivist: Keith, son of Trevor, being you are new to our ways, do you understand that initiating your challenge to the Threkh’ Zera you know and understand our ways. Our traditions. Traditions that have kept our race strong for over Ten Millennia.

Keith: I do.

Archivist: You understand that once initiated, there is no stopping the ceremony. You must achieve Victory... or death.

Keith: I do.

Archivist: Being the challenger, you understand that if you lose, your fate lies in the hands of Lotor.

Keith: Yes.

Archivist: If you lose, if exile is selected, you renounce your claim over Acxa in all forms. You will be exiled from Diabaazal forever. Your name and family stripped of honor. If death is selected, your blood with stain the sand in which it will eventually fade away to time. Are you prepared to continue knowing the danger is great?

Keith looked to Acxa, she still had a hand over her stomach, trying to look brave the best she could. He looked back at the Archivist.

Keith: I am prepared to put my life on the line for Acxa, now and forever.

Archivist: Lotor, son of Zarkon, being you are the challengee, you must decide Keith son of Trevor’s fate if you win.

Lotor: I choose death.

There was a stifled gasp, mostly from Acxa and Krolia. There was a murmur those selected to witness the event. Mostly among those associated with Keith through his like. Kolivan looked on in stoic resolve as with a few other Blade members. The Archivist raised his left hand with his ring finger and pinky down and the rest up, causing those in the stands to quite.

Archivist: The combatants may now rise and face each other.

Both Keith and Lotor faced one another. Lotor had a sympathetic yet cocky look on his face. Keith had a look of determination and resolve on his. Both placed their closed fists over the left side of their chests nodded to one another.

Keith and Lotor: Victory or death...

[jos-corner-of-the-world]

Unexpected -- {14}

{13}

After the final performance, you’d spent an hour talking with random guests, shying away from the praise you and the company were receiving.

There were a few people who had recognized Jungkook and wanted information on their involvement in your studio.

“Oh, there is no involvement. Jungkook was just helping me out since Michael got injured.  They don’t dance at the studio or anything like that.” you’d told one woman who seemed completely dejected by it.

Once everyone had left and the students had helped you take down any decorations and equipment that had been set up, it only left yourself, Clara, and the guys.

“Hey hun, want me to take Lily for the night?” Clara offered.

“Nope. We have plans tonight.” you smiled.

“Miss Clara, right?” Yoongi asked, verifying her name.

“It’s just Clara, but yes?” she asked.

“We’re treating Y/n and Lilybug to dinner and ice cream. Would you like to join us?” he asked.

“Are you sure?” she asked, confirming with everyone else.

“Of course. We’d love for you to join us.” Namjoon said.

And that’s how you found yourself at dinner with everyone you considered to be family.

“So did you like it?” Lily asked over dinner.

“It was really good!” Jin complimented her.

“Okay, while we’re on the subject, Lily let’s talk about your flip.” you said.

“Oh momma, do we have to?” she asked, whining.

“If you want ice cream then yes. Yes we do.” you said.

“Lily, talk to her! She might not let anyone get ice cream if you don’t talk about it!” Jin reasoned.

“Okay, for Jin and ice cream I’ll talk about it. Momma, I did a flip.”

You could hear snickers from around the table.

“Do you know how scared I was watching you do that? You haven’t even started doing flips yet and you did one today.” you said.

“But I have been doing flips momma! What do you think I do when you’re a bum and won’t get out of bed in the morning?” she asked.

“You mean to tell me instead of coming and waking momma up, you’re in your room doing flips?” you asked.

“Oh man! I told myself I wasn’t gonna tell you that!” Lily said, smacking herself on the head.

“From now on let’s practice flips together. Momma will show you how to do them safely, okay?”

“Sounds good momma.” Lily said, going back to her dinner.

“Do you promise? I was scared up there watching you too.” You heard Yoongi say to Lily.  Clara sat to your right, Yoongi to your left. You’d wanted to sit by Lily, but as soon as Jin sat down, she plopped down next to him, demanding Yoongi sit on her other side.

“Suga! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I pinky promise that I will only do flips with momma from now on!” she said, sticking her pinky out to Yoongi.

You watched as he wrapped his pinky around hers.

“Great, I’ve been replaced.” you said as everyone was gushing over soft Yoongi.

“How can Suga replace you momma? He’s a boy. Mom’s are girls, dad’s are boys.” she said.

Your line of sight went directly to Yoongi as you saw a sharp blush creep up his face and he put his head down to hide it.

That’s a hell of a thing to throw out at dinner kid. You thought to yourself.

While waiting for dessert, you looked around the table fondly.

Clara and Jin were talking about cooking.  The other guys were all talking amongst themselves.  But what really caught your eye was Yoongi quietly coloring with Lily, laughing and smiling at whatever she was saying.

You weren’t sure where life was going to take you, or this strangely built family you’d found yourself part of, but you knew you always wanted to see Lily as happy as she was right now.

“Thank you guys very much for dinner. I had a lot of fun getting to know more about you guys. If you’re ever available, I’d love to have you guys over for dinner sometime before the move.” Clara said.

“What move?” Lily asked, ears perked to new information.

You and Clara shared looks of shock.  Neither of you had gotten around to telling Lily yet about Clara and her husband moving.  You ‘d wanted to wait until after the showcase in case she didn’t handle it well.

“Well baby, Miss Clara and her husband are going to be moving to Florida.”

“Is that far away?” she asked, still not understanding.  You noticed the guys all hung back, but hadn’t left yet.

“Yeah, baby it is. If we wanted to go see her we’d have to fly or drive for a couple days.”

“But why?” Lily asked, bottom lip trembling slightly.

“It’s for work honey. I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you yet. We still have some time together though.” Clara said, trying to ease the pain of the small child.

“Is it because you don’t love me anymore? Was I bad?” she asked, tears now pooled in her eyes.

You watched with teary eyes as Clara bent down to take Lily in her arms.

“Oh honey, of course it’s not that. I love you and your momma so much.  If we had another choice that would let us stay here with you, I’d stay forever. I promise I’ll come and visit you as much as I can and I’ll treat you and your momma to a trip to Florida once we’re settled.” By the time Clara had finished speaking, all three of you were crying.

Yoongi was conflicted as he stood there watching you and Lily cry. He wanted to take you into his arms and take any pain away that he could, for the both of you. But he hesitated.

The hesitation didn’t last long when he watched you put your hand over your mouth to silence a sob that was threatening to escape.

He walked swiftly up to you and placed his hand into your free one.  You jumped slightly at the contact, but didn’t take your eyes off your crying daughter.

It took twenty minutes before you were able to separate Lily and Clara.  In that time, Yoongi stook quietly by your side, hand still clasped with yours.

“Want help getting Lily home?” Yoongi asked you.

“How will you get back to the hotel?” you asked.

“I’ll just take a taxi” he said.

“If you want to, I’d appreciate that.” you already knew it was going to be a fight getting Lily settled in to bed.  You weren’t sure why you took Yoongi up on his offer, but you found yourself saying yes anyway.

You watched as Yoongi went over to the guys.  Once he was done talking, they all came over and said quiet goodbyes to everyone before taking off without Yoongi.

“Lily honey, let’s head home.” you said, taking her from Clara’s arms.

“I’m so mad at you momma.” she said laying her head on your shoulder, facing away from you.

The ride home was quiet, but you knew Lily would talk once you got into the apartment.

“You said you don’t lie to me momma. You said we can’t tell lies.” Lily said when you walked into the apartment.

“Lilybug, we didn’t lie. We just didn’t tell you yet.” you weakly defended.

“You said that’s the same as a lie!”

“I know. I’m sorry we lied to you. It was wrong.” you said, trying not to cry again. You rarely fought with Lily, but when you did it hurt really bad.

“I’m tired momma. I want to go to bed.” she said, getting her pajamas out.

Sometimes you thought Lily acted much older than her nearly 5 years. You felt yourself was to blame for that.

You sat down and read Lily her bedtime story, as Yoongi stood in the doorway watching.  Her fit must have made her tired because she was asleep before the fifth page.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asked as you went into the living room.

“No. It’s all my fault she’s so upset.” you said, sitting hard on the couch.

Yoongi sat down right next to you and held your hand in his again.

“She doesn’t understand why right now, but maybe she will someday.” he reasoned.

“It’s more than that Yoongi. As I was talking to her tonight I noticed that she talks to me like an adult. She seemed so much older in that moment and it broke my heart.” you said, tears coming for the third time tonight.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s always been Lily and I. We lived with my aunt for a while, but Lily doesn’t remember her. Now there’s Clara. I’ve put my daughter through so much at such a young age and I feel like such a shitty person. We’ve moved across the country, and settled here which was hard for her. Then we found Miss Clara, but she’s leaving. And there’s a possibility that I’ll lose the studio and it’s hard.  It’s hard for me, it’s hard for her, and I feel like I’m drowning sometimes. I’m drowning and I’m failing and I hate that I made her feel like this.”  Once you started, you didn’t know when to stop.

Yoongi was at a loss for words.  He’d never seen you so shaken and vulnerable before.  Not even when you were talking about the bad time you’d had when Lily was born and the year that followed.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you towards him, hugging you to his side.

“I’m sorry I don’t have the right words for you right now. I wish I could tell you that everything is fine, but I know that might not be true.  But what I can tell you is that you’re not failing at being a mother. I’ve seen you with Lily enough to know that everything you do, you do for your daughter.  The late nights, the early mornings, the stress. You do it all to have a good life for your daughter.  You may be losing Clara, but no one can ever take the title of Lily’s mom from you. And you’re the only one that could do it.  And as for Lily. What you made her into was a strong little girl who can weather tough times.  She’s sarcastic and smart and absolutely the best little girl I’ve met in my life.”

Yoongi was surprised when you cried even harder.  He had meant to cheer you up, take some of your pain away.

“What else is there?” he asked you kindly.

“What am I going to do when you leave too?”

{15}

[raintekla]

Rain Tekla: Zeyo Atoel Part II

  It was a sleepless night, the first of many she would come to have throughout her life. Young Zeyo’s home was small, like most, herself sleeping in what might be considered a closet in Eorzea. There was no room for pacing here. Instead she just lay on a small flat mattress, holding a pillow against her chest. She had so many thoughts, so many concerns and emotions.

  Hormones. That’s what she had heard someone call it. She wasn’t a kid any more. Well, she was and she wasn’t. She was getting taller, stronger and just growing out of her adolescence. A kid, in her mind, was an androgynistic short little person. She was, as her mother had put it, ‘developing’. Blagh. And she wasn’t alone in that regard either. So, too, had Rhom grown. When they had first met, she hadn’t even noticed him. He had just been another face in the crowd, really, but that was easy enough a perspective for someone who was only six years old. To be fair, he hadn’t quite been a ‘he’ back then either. In her village, at least, children were just that, children. They all kind of looked the same, lanky tanned bodies still growing into their ears. It was common courtesy to use the singular ‘they, them, their’ to speak to kids. Zeyo, at the time, had thought herself fully capable of picking out any boys from girls, and so she had copied something an older woman had taught her to call her elder kin. ‘Sister’.

She had been proven wrong.

  To think, back then they had been so alike. They were still best friends, no doubt, but they had grown so differently. They could have been mistaken for siblings, maybe even twins at one point. Now they were just, well, different. His arms had grown, his chest had widened, his ‘baby face’ had become more angular. He was beginning to resemble more and more the pictures she had seen of the Wardens. Is that why she had kissed him? Or had it been fear of losing him? Maybe that had just been her instinctual attempt at calming him down.

Feeling down? How bout a big wet one? Panic attack? Pucker up, Buttercup!

  Two dozen times she had gone through it in her head. What had happened, why it had happened, and of course, what she was going to do about it. She had promised him that they wouldn’t take him from her, but when she had made that promise, she had no plan whatsoever. The best idea may have been to just sleep on it, get some rest and brainstorm in the morning over breakfast. Instead, she elected to just overthink things and punch her wall in frustration. 

  As morning sunlight crept through her little window, Zeyo had her plan ready. It may not have been perfect, but it certainly sounded better than exiling herself from the village. She could never leave this place, it was her home. Her friends were here, her family, her entire life. For breakfast she helped herself to a large strip of dried seasoned meat, then ran outside. Up above, a familiar hawk cried out before descending towards her, landing on a little stone perch. At that moment her mind went back to an old teacher, Vjnne. She couldn’t recall if, historically, hawks were part of the natural ecosystem, or something that had been brought to her people hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago. Rhom could have told her. He had always been the better listener.

  The hawks made for great scouting companions and messengers. This one, named Hawkje, belonged to Rhom’s family, and held a little rolled up note in it’s claws. Zeyo took the letter with one hand and stroked the feathered friend with another, her heart sinking.

[ Dear Zeyo,

     I wanted to say goodbye. You’re the best friend that anyone could ever ask for, and I love you. A Warden came to see me last night. Not just any man from the jungle either. He says he’s my sire. My father. I don’t know how to feel about that, but he tells me that he can teach me to be strong. He says we have a long way to travel, so we’re leaving at daylight. I don’t want to, but I don’t have a choice. I’m really scared, but know that I’ll always be thinking of you. It might be a very long time before we see each other again. I have too much to say, and he keeps looking at me like he’s ready to walk out in the middle of the night. I don’t want him to see me cry, so I’m trying to suck it up, but you know me. I can’t help it. Sorry.

     I wish I could have said goodbye in person, but for men, companionship and dependability is a crutch. Apparently. Love, Rhom ]

  Zeyo read the letter twice, still stroking Hawkje. Her heart began to beat faster, her respiration began to stagger and the inside of her throat felt very cold and tingly all at the same time. Before her panic could get the better of her, she steadied her breathing, swallowing her emotions and physically calming, as she had been taught to do. She had come up with a solid plan through the night, and while it was still solid, it had now changed.

--

  Sister Crjn, or as some of the li’l brats called her ‘Old Lady Crjn’, had been preparing for another sparring day for the children. Truth be told, sparring day was usually a cover. It was her ‘take it easy’ day, her recovery day. Any time she had spent the night drinking too heavily, and some mornings even, she would just tell the kids it was sparring day. In that way, she could just sit down on her ass and watch the younglings beat the hells out of one another with wooden training swords, staves, or whatever else she had decided to ‘teach them’ that day. She wasn’t particularly hung over today, at least not like she had been the day before. She was just having a ‘twofer’. Sun in and sun out she was trying to beat her head against those of the kids’, hoping to impart at least a fraction of her knowledge unto them. The stress of administering such higher learning meant that she was entitled to a few sparring days every now and then, right?

  And that had been the idea when she had rolled out of bed that morning. Get up, grab a bite to eat, get ready to call another ‘sparring day’ and then pull some kind of lesson out of her ass before class time was over. That had been the plan until she saw what was waiting for her within the training grounds. Her kids, most of them anyroad, had already beat her there, and were standing around in a circle. In the middle was a single child, hands on their hips, waiting for her. Had she slept in? She had to take another glance up at the sun. Nope, same time as usual. Everyone else had just arrived early. Trying to mask the surprise on her face, she took a breath and resumed her cool flat expression.

“Sister Crjn, I’m callin’ you out.”

  Immediately Crjn’s eyes squinted and her fists balled up. This was not a case of eager students ready to learn. This was one idiot kid looking to get their jaw broken. This was a trial. She never broke stride, pacing her way to the interior of the ring. The little brat calling her out wasn’t even of age. Zeyo was, twelve, thirteen summers old? Most of the ones who challenged her for the first time were nearer twenty. A moment of weakness caught the old veteran in her soft spot as she dug her right pinky nail into a long floppy ear. Not once had she ever allowed someone to take back their challenge, but seeing as this was her favorite student of the semester, mayhap even, well, ever.. “I must have misheard you, runt.”

  Zeyo stood her ground, tall and proud, the expression on her face quite serious. This was usually the girl who was always smiling, always playing, teasing, making jokes. This was a complete change in attitude, and Crjn knew exactly why. The little pacifist had been taken away, likely. That burned her up a little, knowing that she was responsible for preparing them. If her children failed, so too did their teacher, in Crjn’s mind anyroad. And now here Zeyo would present her with a second failure. It was disheartening, but Crjn would see the job done.

“You’re too early, summers too early. Let all of your peers gathered before you make judgement of your actions here today. You are a fool to take the trial now, but words will no longer alleviate you of your predicament. If you want to bow out, kneel now and say nothing, save yourself a few broken limbs.”

“My name is Zeyo of Atoel, I am thirteen summers old and today I challenge you for the right to become a proper woman in the eyes and respect of the village.”

  Crjn stepped outside of the ring, students with expressions a mixture of both fascination and horror parting out of her way, as if any one of them could somehow be roped into what would surely be the beating of the century. She made her way to a small wooden table, pulling back a weighted cloth to reveal a variety of weaponry.

“Choose any one single weapon to defend yourself.”

  Crjn didn’t need to reach for anything on the table as she made her way back to the inside of the ring, the kids closing in behind her to fill the gap. From her back she unsheathed a well worn albeit sturdy wooden staff. She pointed the tip forward towards Zeyo, then spit a bit of morning gravy into the dirt between them.

  Zeyo, too, reached behind her back, only with both hands. After a few seconds, she nodded to her teacher, then brought both palms forward. One remained empty, the other wore a hardened leather glove that extended and tied to the forearm. “I have selected my weapon.”

  Crjn gritted her teeth as she stared at the little shit. She was racking her brain, trying to remember Zeyo’s family history, what grades she held with each weapons category, and her survival and tactics scores. This didn’t add up. Regardless, Crjn would approach this challenge as she had each one before. She would treat her opponent as her enemy, straying only from fatal blows. There would be no held punches here, and for the audacity of challenging her at such a young age, there would most certainly be broken bones. Nodding her head in return to Zeyo, Crjn spun her staff once, it’s weight balanced and familiar in her hand. “Begin!”

--

  This was it, this was for Rhom. Zeyo exhaled, concentrating on her breathing as the much larger weapon spun her staff on the opposite end of the fighting ring. Her teacher had at least a hundred ponze on her. She was taller, stronger, had better reach, and a hundred and fifty years more experience. Still, none of that mattered at this moment. This was the only way to be with Rhom, and so she would not fail. As soon as Crjn roared out to ‘begin’, Zeyo cried out as loud as she could, “Hawkje, to me!”

  She held her arm out to the side, stiff as she could make it, knowing that should the hawk not heed her call, it was over. Crjn, for her part, took a cautious step forward, gauging Zeyo as a serious opponent. Zeyo’s nerves rattled for a moment, imagining her own brains being splattered against the dirt, her friends and family shaking their heads. Poor Zeyo, she had such potential, but she was such a dumb girl in the end.

  Weight landed on her outstretched arm in the form of the morning messenger. Zeyo had no training with animals, and had never once tried to command her friend’s bird. Perhaps it was destiny, kindred spirits, empathy or something magical. Whatever it was, the beast had come to support her.

“Hawkje, kill.”

  Purple eyes locked onto her target as she threw her arm forward while giving the command. This wasn’t Crjn any more. This was an obstacle to overcome, and something she would not survive if she didn’t give it every onze of her being. And as if the pair had been training together all their lives, the hawk flew from Zeyo’s leather gauntlet, launching like a bullet straight forward.

  Crjn’s reflexes were too slow, her staff narrowly missing the bird of prey as its talons ripped into the viera’s cheeks, tearing flesh with ease. Blood sprayed both Viera and hawk as they battled one another, the blunt end of Crjn’s staff coming back up to defend herself, knocking into Hawkje and batting him to the ground with a heartbreaking screech. Her brown skin now painted crimson, peeled like curled pencil shavings in strips on either side of her face. She swung her staff around, hoping to catch the little shit, but her target was already gone.

  As quiet as she was swift, Zeyo had made her way around to Crjn’s blindspot. As soon as the staff swung, perhaps expecting an attack from the side, Zeyo dove forward. From behind her teacher, she wrapped her arms around Crjn’s waist, kicked at the back of her leg, then pulled back using her own force in conjunction with the momentum of the staff swing. As the larger woman fell back, Zeyo spun, allowing her teacher to bite into the dirt as she pinned her to the ground.

 If the two had been the same size, Zeyo would have had her right where she wanted. Unfortunately, even on her belly, her face torn to shreds and bleeding, Crjn was far from down and out. She spun around, and using her longer arms, elbowed Zeyo in the nose. Zeyo’s grip loosened as the gang of school kids heard the morbidly satisfying crunch of broken cartilage. For Zeyo, the world went red for a few seconds, pain erupting in her face. That was nothing, however, compared to the blunt of the staff crashing against her head.

  As soon as the staff made contact, Zeyo’s vision went black, her head cracked on one side, the ground rising up to meet her other. There she laid, bleeding, her head pulsing, blood matting her hair from the point of impact. It might have been over there and then, had she not heard the sound of the hawk’s cry. Willing herself to keep going, Zeyo’s eyes opened and she stood back up, breathing through her mouth.

  In front of her, Crjn battled Hawkje once again, this time the hawk’s right talon getting stuck in the corner of the teacher’s eyelid. In a sickening display, the eyeball popped right out of its socket in a splatter of blood and tears, still hanging on and dangling, fastened to nerve endings. Whatever empathetic chord the gore struck amongst the other students, Zeyo was immune. In a ferocious scream, Crjne swung her staff down diagonally against the bird, snapping its neck in one swift vengeful maneuver. Again, Zeyo took her opportunity. As soon as the staff was used, Zeyo dipped back into close quarters, palming Crjn’s chin up with one hand, then punched her in the throat with the other.

  The muffled coughing noise the older lady made had the circle of students close in. She was gurgling, choking, yet still Zeyo didn’t stop. As Crjn went to reach for her own throat, her grip on her weapon loosened just enough to allow Zeyo, both hands now wrapped around the midsection of the staff, to pry the thing loose. Backing away from Crjn’s blindly clawing free hand, Zeyo stepped to the side, then swung the end of the staff against the back of her teacher’s head with enough force to lay her into the dirt.

  Not taking any chances, Zeyo raised the weapon above her head, something primal within her rising and manifesting as a scream. That’s when a hand stopped her staff from caving Crjn’s head in. Snarling, Zeyo’s upper lip trembled in rage, the blood pouring out of her nose now covering her teeth and filling her mouth with the taste of copper. Meeting her gaze was her own mother, holding back the attack with a single hand.

“This is over.”

  Like a rabid dog, Zeyo didn’t want to unclench from her weapon. Sound returned, something she hadn’t noticed had somehow faded away. There was a boom of cries, some astonished, some joyous. The world was dizzying to look at, the edges of her vision now black, the pain in her head now sharpened, akin to a knife wound. As her fingers let go of the staff, she reached to the wound under her hair, wincing as it burned at the touch. As she took a step, it felt as if the earth beneath her feet was moving away from her. She stumbled forward, kneeling and catching herself with a single hand reaching out to touch the ground. As she tilted her head up, black sticky bangs obscured much of her vision, but she could make out two women addressing Crjn.

“Yeah. It’s over. I win.”

  No one rejected her claim. These trials usually ended in a bloodbath one way or another. Ferocity was not just encouraged, it was necessary. While her ‘weapon’ had been unorthodox, it had not been against the rules. No one had ever challenged Crjn with a hawk, but they had been used in combat before by other villagers. In fact, Zeyo had originally planned on just using one of the wooden practice swords until Hawkje’s arrival that morning. She knew now that had she tried with any other weapon, she would have failed.

  Thinking of the bird, her eyes turned towards it’s feathered corpse, only a few short fulm away. What had she expected to happen, that it would get in a few licks then fly away home intact? She certainly didn’t know she was sentencing it to death, or she never would have used him. How would Rhom take that news? Rhom! Hawkje deserved a decent burial for its service to her, but right now Zeyo had more pressing matters.

As the crowd of children, now dotted with curious adults, circled Crjn even closer, no one seemed to notice the victor of the trial slip away. No longer a child, Zeyo was now independent and free to do as she pleased with the respect of her people. She was a woman, as much an adult as even the eldest of the villagers. And with that newly gained freedom and reverence, she fled to the jungle.

--

[tellywoodtrash]

I really don't understand why Om fans are so desperate for Gauri to become educated and groomed?? I mean, if they so badly wanted an educated and 'polished' lead for Om, then Riddhima was good enough. I'm tired of how they still feel Gauri is not good enough for their dear Omkara. When actually its the other way round. Can you explain this phenomenon TT? Do you think it's time I left IF?

Anon 2 said: 

Its funny how Anika who is the wife of SSO, a top businessman, and has been in media eye a couple of times, never had to change/groom herself, but Gauri who is (apparently) the wife of a reclusive artist is taunted for her lack of English skills and (from the spoilers) it seems has to groom herself to become good enough for Om. Like really? What is this track? Why do GulNeet always heap rubbish on Rikara? What do you make of all of this, TT?

Anon 3 said: 

I don’t understand this random English BS track they’ve introduced for Rikara. A/c to spoilers, Shivaay helps Gauri get educated in English. This makes absolutely no sense. Gauri has always believed in her self-worth. And Om doesn’t even care about English and stuff. This track is just going to butcher Gauri’s character, nothing else. I’d take dangal over this any day. What do you think?

Anon 4 said:

*Spoiler* After today’s episode, I want Rikara’s ship to sink. Let Gauri stay on as Shivaay and Anika’s sister. Om can do whatever the fuck he wants to with his life. He is so unworthy of Gauri. I’m so ready to see ShivRi, AniRi, and RuRi, but if Om comes anywhere near Gauri, imma going to blast. Sorry, this is the one of the few places left to rant, considering there are still fans defending Om and saying that he deserves a better FL. What do you think of today’s epi.?

Hello all the anons! First off, anyone who says Om deserves better than Gauri is certainly entitled to their opinion, but I don’t agree. Forget Om (who is relatively the best of the lot), no 4 Lions man is worthy of ANY of the women they have managed to land. None. Not Shivaay, not Rudra, Arnav, Advay, Asad, Tej etc. And I’m including some interim gfs in that list, like Lavanya, Tia, Saumya, and Svetlana etc. Yeah okay, all these men eventually go on and redeem themselves, but it’s after a hella lotta mistreatment and BS that no woman should have to put up with IN THE FIRST PLACE. All of these men got these women through sheer luck and by the virtue of endless patience and forgiveness on the part of the female characters. Anyone who thinks that these men “deserve better” is operating under a bias of internalized misogyny, elitism, and classism (for characters like Khushi and Gauri.)I wouldn’t put Riddhima under the category of the above women though. She was always a shady pseudo, using Om’s name for ulterior motives. Sure, I don’t doubt that some part of her did love him, and she did genuinely believe that she was working for Om’s benefit when she teamed up with Tej, but as his gf of 2+ years, she fully knew what kinda relationship Om and Tej shared. She shouldn’t have fucked him (and Shivaay!) over like that. A relationship based on such duplicitousness was never meant to last and at that point of time, Om did deserve better. He was right to break up with her. The Om post-DBO seems to understand the value of lying to ultimately achieve what you want though (since he was so comfortable doing it to screw Svetlana over), so maybe she would be a better fit for who he is right now.

So, to the first anon; yes, if you find yourself disagreeing with majority of the views being expressed on it, and you’re spending a lot of time alternately screaming in frustration and rolling your eyes as you angrily close the tab, you *should* leave IF. The forum template means you have no control over whose posts you see. Why spend your time reading infuriating codswallop that ruins your enjoyment of the show? Like, if you’re a sane human being who values human rights and not being an asshole, you wouldn’t spend time watching Fox News and reading Breitbart. Similarly, stop consuming the poorly articulated mind-vomit that is so prevalent on the hellsite that is IF. Secondly, I wouldn’t compare Anika’s issues to Gauri’s. Anika’s issue was the lack of Naam, Khoon, Khaandaan. She could speak English like the Queen herself and be groomed to the seventh heaven, but that would have made no difference to Shivaay and Pinky. (Like it didn’t in the case of Dev Chhabra, who was from Canada or California or some shit iirc, and was plenty rich.) Anika’s lacking was not something she COULD change, no matter how much she wished to. The change in that aspect of the relationship always had to come from Shivaay. If Anika had to change anything about herself, it’s in putting more trust in Shivaay and her value in his life, and that’s an ongoing process, because Shivaay is bad at articulating his feelings, leading to her feeling insecure and like she’s always the one more invested in the relationship than he is. Lastly, I choose to look at this learning English situation a little differently. I don’t think that by Gauri choosing to learn English, or Shivaay by encouraging her to, is purely or as simple as Gauri “modifying” herself to fit into Om’s world and nothing else. I would have been hella mad if the track is something puerile like Gauri getting a makeover clothes-wise or going to those snooty finishing classes or some such superficial garbage in order to transform herself into a society wife. But here she’s choosing to educate herself. Education is a good thing, and no matter what the reason it’s being undertaken is, it should be encouraged. No one has ever not benefited from learning and expanding their skill set. Yes, the stupidass incident in the gallery was a catalyst, and Gauri is under the misunderstanding that Om cares about her English skills when he doesn’t; I also agree that she’s badass and amazing and surviving and navigating life just fine the way she is right now and doesn’t NEED to change, but what she’s doing is ultimately just going to empower her in life, whether she chooses to continue her relationship with Omkara or not. If this is something she feels insecure about (yes, she *shouldn’t*, but aren’t all of us insecure about something or the other that others don’t think need changing in us? Our faces, our bodies, the tone of our voice, and a multitude of other silly things that’s not an issue except in our own minds…) isn’t it a good thing that she’s being proactive and working on herself, as opposed to just wallowing in “not being good enough”? Also, note how happy and cheered up she was when Shivaay told her that not just Om, everyone who ever thought less of her would have to eat humble pie in underestimating her value. If this exercise increases her confidence in herself and results in her becoming even more badass and unstoppable (esp. in the face of characters like Pinky and Ragini and those assholes at the gallery), then I am all for this. No one has ever LOST anything or REGRETTED learning something.But yes, this doesn’t negate the issue that all this is purely because these two aren’t fucking communicating. Both are laboring under some major misapprehensions regarding the other person and their expectations from their relationship. But I’ll elaborate re: that further in yet another ask that I’ve received.

[midoriko-sama]

What did Hiccup do to be the Badass Chief™? I'm guessing some Cattongue stuff again

…

So basically the answer to this question is the first half of Niflheim’s plot. Buckle up, sonny. Here we go.

Hiccup and Astrid have a few very happy years. They have one daughter, Frida, and Aetta is practically theirs. Then Aetta is eight and Frida is three, Astrid is pregnant with their second (third) child in her eighth month (round about; I’m not sure I’m no @e–wills​ guys). And shit hits everywhere.

The heirs of all the tribes except Loki (Tuff and Cami’s son) and Frida who are only three are on one of Gobber’s islands.They are having an overnight stay without dragons to learn wilderness survival. Phlegma is with them, and Astrid goes for her very last flight to visit Aetta.

Frida and Loki are the only ones spared the ordeal. But Aetta is there and Thug’s son Jarl, as is Spit. And all the first children from all the tribes being taught.

The Orcfang tribe (or Skullcrushers - I am unsure on the name) swoop in, on information one knows not whose (Hint: It’s Drago), and capture them all.They intend to sell them all off to slavery. Including a very pregnant Astrid.

Unfortunately for them. The minute they approach the cage, she slaughters every single guard. In front of the children.With her bare hands.

The leaders of the tribe are so entertained that they make a sport of it.She can keep herself and he children unsold and herself unraped of she keeps winning.If she loses even one bought, she will be raped her unborn child killed and the children sold. And the older girls, probably, raped. Brutally.

She doesn’t lose. But she suffers greatly. The first time she’s called before the tribe leaders she stakes her claim as a chief wife, and they laugh in her face. They try to kill her there and then and she kills three people before they bring Aetta in and hold her at knife point as they chop Astrid’s hair off for daring to make such a claim.  It is humiliating, and Hiccup loves her hair; the psychological trauma of it all begins as they methodically divest her of her dignity.

She’s even more savage after that. She kills many, many people and suffers many injuries.  She loses the pinky and ring finger on her ring hand to an axe blow in one fight. And she almost gives up. Because now she can’t even wear her wedding ring again.She doesn’t because of the children, and because of the baby still hanging on inside her.

Through all this she doesn’t stop hoping for Hiccup. Hiccup meanwhile was alerted to the happening when Stormfly limped back to Berk. Rushed to the island, found the signs of battle and the disaster, rallied the other chiefs. And he says this one phrase that is just so metal. He’s panicked and furious and terrified and Frida is asking for mummy. And everyone in the great hall on Berk is yelling. And he says something on the lines of ’a slave takes his revenge right away. A fool never takes his revenge.’

And the thing is, these fuckers have no idea what they’re up against, because Drago is using them to test the strength of the archipelago. He sent the Orcfangs/Skullcrushers to kick the metaphorical hornet’s nest to let someone else see how bad it stings. This tribe are slave traders from a small island near Norway. They don’t know and don’t care about foreign tribes, and Drago slipped them the information. Told them that easy targets would be on that island. He wants to kill the heirs, the future of the tribes, and de-stabilise them, and check the strength of their response in one fell swoop.

Unfortunately for the Orcfangs/Skullcrushers (oh, you guys name them. Pick one of the two names), they are about to find out you don’t fuck with Hiccup Haddock.

Remember how he killed the Berserkers? That pales in comparison. Astrid is in captivity for six weeks. Between her closeness and the stress she goes into labour. Lucky for the baby, the child took after Stoick. Not so lucky for Astrid, they care enough about their prize fighter to get her on her feet again, and not about her future. Astrid will later find she cannot have children again (sort of, she does have another one, but he’s a surprise accident - Hiccup Haddock IV). In any case, the birthday of the chief’s eldest daughter is approaching. Ships with goods land on their island, and entertainers. One of them is a street flute player with one leg.

That is Hiccup, yes, scoping the situation. And he finds out where everyone is being held.The night before he just sits for a few moments with Thug, crying with happiness that he has a son and his wife is alive. All their children are alive. What he doesn’t know is that the chief plans to take Dunkr and give him to the his daughter as a gift, a plaything of sorts.

Astrid goes back to her cell after another battle to find Aetta bloodied, Gustav and Thug’s son also hurt. And Dunkr gone. 

And Hiccup is leading this operation and already his mercy was at an all time low. Astrid breaks out of the prison cell before she can be rescued, intending to find her son and kill them all. Her husbands already on it.

As Hiccup’s commander of the joint  allied tribes, not even Thug can dissuade him from giving the order.

They take the village first. The chief and leaders of the tribe live in a fancy moated castle. And they make it easy for the allies, because they don’t even realise that anything is wrong and that they’re being invaded on silent, deadly reptiles. And Hiccup orders everyone killed; man, woman and child. No prisoners. No mercy.

When they break into the cell and find Aetta with her hands broken and her nose bruised her teeth kicked out, Jarl bloodied and Gustav injured and they tell them they took Dunkr and Astrid went after them…

Yeah. Once they see that, it’s over. It’s done.Everyone is ordered dead. The people in the village are still civilians… but they’re all killed. Not one left.

They first round up the people in the village with stealth. Kill all the soldiers first. Then sneak into the cottages and kill the sleeping people. Hiccup kills all the babies in the cradles himself.

Astrid hears the commotion and assumes they found out she escaped. She hides in a barn but Hiccup sees her and pursues.The barn is dark. And Astrid is thin, her hair shaved. He doesn’t recognise her.

Only just avoids killing his wife. He sees the frost bite scar on her ear from her time  at the shrine in Winter. And once she realises it’s him she’s hysterical. She doesn’t want him to come close and see her. But she wants to hold him so badly. And she wants to find her SON, they took her son…He manages to calm her, takes her out. The others have meanwhile rounded off all the remaining men. They strip the men of their guard uniforms and half their force walk Hiccup and the other chiefs at spear point to the castle.

Astrid is standing there beside him, tall and proud and furious.They burst into the hall on the birthday feast and the chief is all ‘wtf is going on!’ At which point one of the ‘guards’ informs them that they ‘captured these invaders’ And then Hiccup introduces himself and demands they give him his son. And his daughter. And the sons and daughters of six fucking other tribes.The chief pisses himself because he’s heard of Hiccup and the Battle of the Berserkers at least.

Hiccup says he’ll go if they give him Dunkr. Once they do, he goes oops. I fucking lied.

A signal goes up. Snotlout comes in with the joint dragon riders and break in through the windows. The ’ guards ’ kill the others and Hiccup participates in the slaughter. Astrid can only hold her baby and cry at this point. Though she does kill one of the soldiers personally. He’s the one who tries to rape her most often. Head of the guards, and arrogant prick who always thought he’d have first pick with her. Astrid is still very beautiful, even after two kids and horrid mistreatement.

They kill everyone except the chief. Him they drag back to Hopeless, the Meathead island, for torture/information. Jarl had half his ear cut off defending Aetta (there is a crush triangle going on there between the kids, sorta. Aetta has a crush on Gustav but she’s a little girl to him [he’s 14 about], and Jarl has a massive crush on her. Jarl is Thug’s son… He wins out in the end). We only saw the nice side of the Meatheads because they are on our side. They are not a forgiving tribe.

Hiccup’s last order is for Snotlout to stay behind with a group of dragon riders and make sure that anyone from the tribe who was off fishing or journeying or escaped into the woods, and returns to the island or village, is also killed. The tribe is essentially wiped off the face of the earth, and rune rocks are left at every port and landing mark, a well as at the village and castle, telling what happened on the island. It basically tells anyone who lands there ‘This tribe committed horrid kidnapping and attempted murder of the heirs of the Barbaric Archipelago. They pissed Hiccup Haddock off, as well as the allied chiefs. Now they all be dead. Ye be warned.’

That is why people in the Barbaric Archipelago Do Not Piss Off Hiccup Haddock.

Want more sadness? Ask more Niflheim questions

[thundercuntthoughts]

We’ve Arrived Here, Now Where Do We GO?

Surprisingly (or maybe unsurprisingly) if it’s not the incessant wake-up-to notifications from the news app stirring my morning pot, it’s usually Wendy Williams on the lobby television at work that triggers my unnerving perception of the world I exist in (okay, maybe there are many other factors contributing to this but just for today’s purposes we will place purported blame on the prior). Two days ago it was the CNN news notification on my phone, bright and early Sunday morning, alerting me that ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST; today it was Wendy. That “one” of many, is Aziz Ansari. After just receiving a Golden Globe for best actor on a night that surrounded the “me too” and “times up” “movements” (I am skeptical of this word for such short terms motions that seem to replace one another weekly), Ansari has now been accused of sexual assault by a person who has decidedly chosen to remain anonymous. This composition of my own thoughts is not here to defend nor condemn either sides, it is an op-ed (as all of these are) on the dating climate that exists in our world and its relationship to the contingency of the “me too”/”times up” movement.

The first article was not from a major news source, in fact, it was a low-brow (by my own standards at least *pinky finger in air*) website with categories for readers such as “news” “lust” or “fads”. I hate to even bring up the quality of this publication... categorizing works of writing as “low-brow” and “high-brow “ in itself is problematic.. the rhetoric surrounding what is low-brow and high-brow reading has brought about the silencing of many voices due to the rejection from the “experts” posted up in their ivory tower- so I would like to give this article all the reputable credit I would give any other notably reputable newsource (right, whatever that actually means). So for the sake of treating this situation in an unbiased fashion, I will try to disregard as much as possible that this story was birthed on Babe.net and that from there it gained traction(... but I think it is important and has its place in a discussion of its own). There are many questions I have, many presumptions I perhaps should not make, and many experiences of my own that will shape the way this article may flow. I first want to know... how many people did this anonymous person address with the story, and how many shut her down before a no-name platform like “babe.net” picked it up. What is the “due-process” for stories like this... what is to be gained, who is to be taken down? In this case clearly Ansari is the target, but what is the accuser looking to gain? Is she trying to label Ansari as a straight up rapist? Was she a victim of sexual assault? Has she experienced a situation like this before? Haven’t we all? (and does that mean it’s not worthy of contemplation?)

Here lies my main point. Reading the account of the night between Ansari and the anonymous individual felt like reading an old journal entry- or rather various journal entries- of my own. Except, I noticed a key difference, which maybe is a key difference just to my stories.. maybe i’m alone on this realization, but i doubt it (here i reiterate: MY OWN EXPERIENCES DO NOT DEFINE OR REFLECT THE EXPERIENCES OF OTHERS). I never addressed those men who made me increasingly uncomfortable throughout those countless evenings, and if I did I sure as hell wouldn’t hold it to them to reply let alone reply apologetically in a way that Ansari did. Now, I’m not saying Ansari deserves any praise whatsoever, but let’s be real, these are the standards these days, they are that low, this is where we are at. 

Most of my feelings about this situation stem from my own internalized misogyny that I have learned to suppress as much as I can will it. I won’t lie, my knee jerk reaction to this account was “WTF, this girl is so dumb”. And then my knee jerked a little bit more to say “I’ve been there, it’s not as simple as saying yes/no”. Would I have sucked his dick a second time? Probably not. But I am not that girl, and I am no Aziz Ansari. I cannot speak for what happened, but I do know what happened happens all of the time and while you may think the situation speaks volumes about the individuals, I believe this situation is a product of our society and the internalized misogyny all women such as myself experience. 

You know what else I believe? I believe this person was intrigued by Ansari’s camera choice that night. I believe she saw a public figure with an amicable persona who acknowledged her out of many on a big night. I believe she wanted to get to know this famous person, I believe she wanted him to get to know her, I believe she thought they would have a wonderful night out - as one would fantasize having with a powerful and famous person. I believe Ansari turned out to be not larger than life. I believe Ansari has no sexual etiquette. I believe Ansari is flawed and not special compared to the likes of most heterosexual men. I believe this young woman met Ansari at a party and expected to be taken out and treated as a respectable human being in hopes of maybe developing a relationship with Ansari. I believe Ansari met a young woman at a party and expected to get a fun night out of her and nothing more. Can we maybe acknowledge that neither are wrong for either expectation? 

To encapsulate my feelings is impossible, but I will say something that can resemble a near conclusion for some of my thoughts... as a sexual assault victim myself, I feel like the words sexual assault have been wrongfully reclaimed and disservices the notion of it by this public story. The accuser’s feelings are valid, the actions against her are inexcusable.. but as stated previously..for me, this conversation belongs more-so in the realm of discussion on dating culture and the inherent power struggles that exist in heterosexual relationships, and less-so in the realm of the recent social justice movements surrounding sexual assault. Somebody asked “ was she not victim enough for you?” as if I was questioning at all the validity of her claim as a victim. Let’s not make this a conversation about something other than it isn’t. But here lies the significant issue my internalized misogyny presents... we probably should be calling this sexual assault. But can we imagine the trauma? Most women have experienced this situation, and maybe the reason we are so hesitant to call it sexual assault is oh I don’t know.. maybe something called... self-defense? I truly believe most of us would rather go about our lives not having to identify as a sexual assault victim, and if a situation like this is considered assault.. well, fuck... we’ve just been getting assaulted our whole lives then haven’t we? I would like to think this is a self-realization that one would like to avoid coming to, therefore I believe we need to expand our conversation in a way that can help us navigate through the valley of sexual coercion, assault, and rape so that it is understood that dark, grey areas certainly exist and are looming over our relationships- old and new. 

These thoughts are in development... I will wait for the Feminazi’s to come and revoke my F card. Till then...