#never felt more encouraged about my fashion choices in my life

[eternalsunrise]

when in france

nfl! joe burrow x fem! reader

wc: 3.1k

tags! established relationship, college sweethearts (because i said so), 💍 hint hint, no smut!

notes! abby try not to write sickening fluff challenge failed horribly. i keep going back and forth about whether i like or not but i hope you guys do! mwah 💋

when joe told you he’d be attending and modeling for fashion week, you were ecstatic. you’ve been encouraging him to step out of his comfort zone, and it seemed like he was finally listening during this offseason.

when he told you the event was in france, you were even more stunned. you were so excited for him. there was no one more deserving of these opportunities than your joe.

and when he asked you to accompany him, you were absolutely floored. sure you knew he loved you. you’ve felt it every day for years. but an experience like this, you were so grateful he’d even consider sharing this with you.

“are you sure? really babe it’s okay, i won’t be upset.” you had reassured him the day he found out about the opportunity.

joe just looked at you like you had three heads over his dinner, his fork clattering as he dropped it onto the plate. he reaches his arm across the table and clasps your hand with his, “hey. don’t be silly. you’re my girl. there’s no one, and i mean no one, i’d rather do this with.”

there’s something about joe’s soft, steady voice that always reassures you in the way he knows you need. he places a delicate kiss to the back of your knuckles. you don’t worry about it again.

your time in france is an absolute whirlwind. joe had warned you that his schedule was pretty packed, but you didn’t mind. after all, you’ve grown used to the hustle bustle of football season. nothing like the fast life. dinners, meetings, panels, runways, and parties. you’re supporting joe through it all, and he notices. hell, everyone notices.

the first dinner you all have together is after a runway show in cannes.

you’re chatting with a woman sitting next to you, laughing and sipping a glass of white wine. joe is on the other side of you, catching up with JJ and some of the other guys. of course the topic has reverted back to football, hard to avoid with those two at the table together. JJ and another friend are in a heated discussion about the rules surrounding taunting when the food arrives.

when the plates hit the table, joe watches your actions from the corner of his eye. you pick at your side choice, before putting the smallest bite into your mouth. reaction almost immediate, you turn to joe with a grimace that he knows all too well.

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head back and forth as he begins to eat his own meal, “i told you. i knew you wouldn’t like them cooked that way.”

you did this every time the two of you had dinner somewhere new. you like to order something you’d usually never try on the menu, in hopes of enjoying it. and joe, who knows you better than anyone, always warns you against it. then every single time, you flash him an adorable smile and say the same thing, “well, when in___”

this started when he brought you to ohio for the first time. the two of you were having lunch in cincy before heading to athens to meet his parents. you inquired about ‘cincinnati chili’, to which joe explained and confessed that even he didn’t enjoy chili served over spaghetti. but you had said “well, when in cincinnati!” with such excitement, that he didn’t have the heart to argue further.

the hometown specialty almost made you puke all over his childhood bedroom hours later. flash forward some years and the song and dance was still the same.

you shake your head, trying to lie. you’re stubborn. the last thing you want to do is admit he was right about this…again.

you attempt another bite, poking the food around your white, porcelain plate. “it’s not that bad joey…i kinda like it…”

you’re lying through your teeth. joe knows. he always does. the man has been reading you like a playbook since college.

so with a sigh he picks up both of your plates, making easy work of switching them. this is also a reoccurring affair. joe always orders something he knows you’ll enjoy, pretty much expecting you not to like your exotic choices. he never tells you this of course. but he’s not picky, so no harm no foul.

you frown down at your new dinner, as much as it looks delicious, you feel bad taking your boyfriend’s food. “no joey you don’t have to do that. i’ll eat it i swear!”

joe just gives you an affectionate eye roll, tapping your thigh a few times under the table, “eat baby.” he gently commands, picking up a fork and beginning to eat your rejected meal. his hand lingers, and you intertwine it with yours, leaning over and placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. you murmur a thank you against his skin, joe hums in response.

unbeknownst to you both, the people across from you were tuned in to the entire exhange. sharing amused glances with JJ, who just shrugs, “they’ve always been like this.”

the two of you resume eating, when the man across from joe speaks up in an amused tone, “so how long?”

joe looks up, confusion written on his face, “excuse me?” he swallows a bite and decides you’re right. this isn’t good at all, but he’s gonna eat every bite.

the man chuckles, sipping his drink. “sorry i didn’t mean to pry. it’s just, you two remind me of me and my wife early on in our marriage. i just assumed you must be newlyweds.”

the words catch your attention and your eyes turn into saucers. newlyweds? did the two of you really act married? the idea of being joe’s for life, officially; your stomach twists in lovesick knots. sure you’ve definitely thought about it. after all, you’ve been by his side for almost 5 years now. but you didn’t know where joe stood when it came to life long commitment. the idea that he might not want that with you, is sorta frightening. you don’t have time to overthink it though, a couple of ladies pulling you back into busy conversation.

justin gives joe a knowing smirk. he holds a hand up and wiggles his fingers, pretending he’s wearing a ring. an action he used to do back when joe would ditch them to hang out with you after lsu practices.

you’re so preoccupied you don’t notice joe’s hand playing with yours a little later into the meal. he takes one of your daily rings off of your index finger, slipping it onto the special one next to your pinky. he twirls it around a couple times, smiling fondly.

the rest of your days abroad pass in pictures of time. you and joe eating croissants early in the morning. sneaking kisses in your hotels elevator. joe asking if he had anything in his teeth before walking in a backless suit.

“were you planning on smiling on the runway babe?” you teased.

joe just shrugs, “maybe. it’s hard not to when i know you’re watching me.”

before you know it, it’s the vogue world after party, marking your last night before returning to the states. the night is lots of fun, full of mingling and laughter. although…there’s something up with your boyfriend. you’re not sure what, but he seems almost anxious. it’s usually out of joe’s character to be antsy, they call him joe cool for a reason. he’s been fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down every time the two of you were sitting. he’s quiet, but still sweet to you in a way that’s reassuring you that he’s okay. you blame his odd behavior on exhaustion, or maybe his social battery draining. maybe even the strobe lights are giving him a headache, which is bittersweet because they make his blues shine so well.

it’s well past midnight, and you’re sitting on joe’s lap wearing a black dress that compliments his outfit. you’re chatting with some people while

your boyfriend sits silently. you have no idea, but his mind is running a mile a second. one of his hands is wrapped around your waist, the other twirling stands of your hair that sit against the back of your dress. his heart thumps against his chest as he uses his leverage against you to raise himself up. he takes a deep breath, and leans his body forward to reach your ear. “you wanna get out of here?” deep voice rumbles from his chest and tickles your ear. it makes a shiver run up your spine.

you turn your head to look behind you, your noses are almost touching this way. the loose curl sitting against his forehead is begging you to brush it away. you resist the urge.

“sure babe, if you’re ready?”

joe looks at you with a look so full of adoration you think you might melt. he presses a quick kiss to your lips, “i’m ready. i already called the car.”

paris is stunning late at night, lights twinkling across the city. joe watches you stare out the cab window. he looks at you the way he has all night, full of love and an indescribable devotion. you’re so mesmerized by the landscape you don’t even notice you’ve passed your hotel until joe clears his throat.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion when joe turns your head to face him. “do you trust me?” the question is serious, but his voice is kind of rocky. like he’s nervous. but what for?

you nod your head with a laugh, “of course joey. why?”

joe smiles and deflects from the question. “alright. close your eyes for me then.”

now you’re really confused. you tilt your head at him, watching as the smile remains on his face. he’s really waiting on you to close your eyes. well, you choose to honor you words, closing your eyes tightly. you’re guessing a surprise is in store.

you feel the car slow to a stop. your hands drum on your lap, anticipation building in your gut.

joe places a hand on your thigh. “don’t get out yet, i’ll come around and get you.”

you nod your head, eyes still clenched to prove your honesty. you hear a car door shut and footsteps coming closer.

joe takes a deep breath, crisp night air filling his lungs. a shaky hand grips your car door, pulling it open.

you hear joe thank the driver, before he gently takes hold of your hands. he guides you to stand and step out of the car. you hear the cab drive away and your heart thumping in your ears.

the warmth of joe’s hands covers your eyes, making you laugh. whatever this surprise is, joe’s pretty adamant in not wanting you to spoil it.

you begin walking forward at joes command. “we almost there?”

you feel your body turn to the right, and suddenly the presence of his hands disappears.

“alright. open em’” he backs away from you, hands shoved into black pants.

you open your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the lights blinking all over the place. you gasp at what’s in front of you, your eyes trailing upwards. “joe…you…”

he grants you a chuckle, eyes crinkling in the way you adored. “you didn’t think we’d leave before i let you see the eiffel tower did you?”

you just stare at the beautiful structure in front of you, trying to convince yourself it was real. there’s something so breathtaking about being in front of something you’ve only seen in photos.

joe is staring at you with the same fascination that you’re giving a wonder of the world. 5 years and you still make the confidence flee from him. you take his breath away simply by being well, you. he’s been a nervous wreck all day. but staring at you right now, in the middle of paris. he’s never been so sure of anything.

you’re rubbing your bare arms, but the cold isn’t even bothering you.

that doesn’t matter to joe. he slips his charcoal jacket off, draping it over your shoulders. you feel strong arms around you, a comfortable warmth covering you. joe rests his chin on your shoulder, turning and placing a few kisses on your cheek. his nose cold against your skin, but you still welcome the contact.

a content sigh escapes you, “it’s so stunning, isn’t it? there’s something so romantic about it.”

joe nods, but to be honest he’s barely even glanced at the tower. he calls your name, his voice cracking is like a bullet shooting through his ego.

you turn to face him, a grin on your face. “i know i keep saying it but thank you. thank you so much for bringing me here.”

joe’s response doesn’t miss a beat, “i’d take you anywhere. i want to take you everywhere, show you the world. that’s what you deserve.”

the sincerity of his words coupled with the setting make your heart soar. suddenly he unravels himself from you. you turn around to face him confused. you open your mouth to question him but he interrupts you by grabbing your hands, squeezing them with his own.

“i love you. i’ve loved you for 5 years and somehow i still love you more each day. you’re the best part of me. you make me a better man, and i wanna be that man for you, always.” joe’s voice is strained as if he’s getting emotional. it’s so rare to see from him. the fact that he’s getting choked up over you. his love for you nonetheless, you feel your own throat tighten. you feel your eyes well up with tears. joe brings your intertwined hands to rest against his chest, his heart pounding in a way he’s sure you feel. the night air sweeps his hair around, that single curl waving at you.

“the first time i thought you to ohio, i saw howmuch my family loved you…and i realized something.”

that was only 6 months into your relationship. a spring break in march that joe wanted to spend with his family. he asked you to tag along and although you were petrified, you agreed. you’ve never felt nervous around his family after that, quite the opposite actually.

suddenly joe steps back from you, a hand reaching into his pocket. the implication of what’s happening makes your mouth dry up. it’s like you’re frozen, just staring at him with wide eyes.

“i–i went out and got this as soon as we got back to baton rouge. i’ve held on to it all this time….and i brought it with me because i thought well, when in france. right?” joe tries his best to keep his voice steady, a nervous chuckle escaping him. and sure enough, a little black, velvet box appears in his hand.

a hand flies to your mouth, and you look around as if a camera crew is going to appear and tell you you’re being pranked. but alas, it’s just you, joe, and the eiffel tower.

“joe….” the tears are definitely flowing now, silently down your face. you couldn’t believe your eyes. this was really happening. right now. in paris at almost 2 in the morning.

you watch as joe gets down on one knee. he tries to tame his trembling hands as he opens the little box, but to no avail. the quarterback that is usually so collected, has crumbled down to mush that you hold in the palm of your hand.

joe perches the box in between his hands, early morning moonlight dances across the diamond ring.

he breathes your name like a prayer, “i meant what i said. i would want to do this. or anything, with anyone else. i want to be yours forever if you’ll have me. so angel, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

joe flashes you that boyish smile that you fell in love with all those years ago. it’s then that you realize it isn’t just joe kneeling before you.

it’s the handsome transfer student from ohio that asks you where bronson hall is. it’s the boy that invites you to watch him play football, and forgets to mention he’s the new star quarterback. it’s the guy your friends ask about when you’re blushing at brunch. it’s the teary eyed heisman trophy winner who thanks you in his speech. it’s the cincinnati bengal who trusts you decorate the new apartment you share together. it’s the guy that plays catch with your younger family members at thanksgiving. it’s your boyfriend that invited you to france. it’s your joe.

this is the easiest question you’ve ever been asked.

“yes. oh my fucking god! a million times yes!” you exclaim, heels clicking the pavement as you jump up and down a couple of times. you’re confused when you look down and see joe still kneeling below you, his grin rivaling the city lights. then you realize, you don’t have the ring on yet. “oh fuck which hand is it?!” your brain is so frazzled, you just stick both hands out toward him.

joe gently grabs your left hand, ring perfectly slipping onto your ring finger. he admires it for a moment and places a kiss on your knuckles.

he’s standing up straight for less than a second before you’re pouncing on him, throwing your arms around him. you pull his neck down toward you, crashing your lips together in a bruising kiss.

joe returns your affection quickly. hands find home holding your face, thumbs dusting away tears. this kiss is different than any you’ve had in the past. it’s a seal. a promise. a sign of your devotion to one another deepening after tonight.

the two of you stay like that for a moment. so caught up in one another. the anticipation of a lifetime together makes you feel as light as a feather.

the two of you break away with sharp inhales, crisp air filling your lungs. you remove your hands from his neck, instead grabbing his in your own and giving a laugh at their state, “babe. you’re shaking.”

joe nods, tongue darting out to lick his lips. he gives your hands a squeeze. “yeah well. good thing i got you to keep me steady.”

the ride back to the hotel is full of giggles and light touches. the ring on your finger is like a magnet to your eyes. you can’t look away, even as joe is extra affectionate; kissing all over your cheek and the side of your neck. you’re so full of love it feels hard to breathe.

“hey joey?”

your boyfriend fiancée pulls his head back to look you in the eyes, “yeah, pretty?”

you put your now ring clad hand on joe’s chest. he looks down at it with a smirk, before meeting your eyes once again.

“what do you think about that backless suit for the wedding?”

[eitherandor-blog]

Seen

Some folks may be surprised by this announcement, while others may say ‘it’s about damn time.’ This is both new for me and yet, something I may have known long ago, but lacked the language and confidence to explore and share with others. Until now.

I identify today as non-binary. I use they/them pronouns, rather than he and him.

Figuring out who you are during your mid-30’s has been simultaneously overwhelming and refreshing. It’s unnerving for me to question and reconsider what I always thought was true and real from my own life..and then even more encouraging and enlivening to feel that you’ve finally discovered a part of yourself.

I remember I told my partner six or seven years ago that I was not sure of my gender and might be exploring some fashion choices that were not typically men’s clothing. That vulnerability was about as far as I got for a while. Gradually, I opened up a little more, letting a few close friends and family members know that I was trying to better understand who I was and what I needed to be me.

..

Whether due to fear of reprisal or mere self-doubt and bias, I did not pursue clothing and other choices outside the man box for several years. My visibility would vary depending on my environment, be that a social or work setting. What really moved me along and got me to where I am today is actually my children.

Being a parent is a journey all on its own. What I don’t think I braced for was how much it would teach me about me. It has demanded that I am consistent in my messaging and beliefs. Especially as my oldest ages and calls me out, I need to be accountable for what I say, how I behave, and who I am. I am grateful to be in a relationship and co-create a home that is affirming and accepting- both of the people who live here and the people of the world.

In terms of gender, we knew that we wanted our kids to have agency to dress and express as they felt comfortable, giving them choice and freedom to experiment with how they looked and what they wanted.  We strive to let them lead us to who they are and will be. In cultivating this environment for them both and witnessing them transcend any 'conventional’ gender boundaries, I realized how stifled I felt in my own expression. It felt so hypocritical: to want my children to feel supported to show up in the world how they wanted..when I had been hiding all along, refraining from coming out and living fully as who I am. My gender has deviated from the norm of a cisgender man for years. With kids to encourage, if this wasn’t the opportunity to live out my truth, that time would never come. And if I wanted my kids to think they could wear whatever and identify however, what better way to teach it than model it myself?

For so long, growing up was about finding where you fit in and with who. This was easier as a student, but that petered out (as it does for many) upon leaving school. Even with a lovely community of people, my network has shrunk precipitously in recent years, no matter my attempts to continue engaging folks. COVID was not easy as an extrovert and parenting has not helped my social life. Whatever the reason, and despite having people all around, I do not know if I ever felt so alone.

Perhaps my loneliness- then and now- was recognition that I don’t fit. Not in the spaces I’ve been previously, not in the ones I seek since.

I haven’t fit in anywhere for years. I’m not one of the boys. It’s been a long time since that felt comfortable for me.

I’m not one of the girls. I’m not usually included and unsure how welcome I am even when I am.

I’m something different. Somewhere outside either group. This is me. Do you see me?

..

If these concepts are something you’re unfamiliar with or is altogether new to you, welcome to the gender spectrum! I remember years ago, being unaware of gender being anything more than men and women. Since then though, in addition to lots of learning from literature and multimedia, I’ve had bosses, friends, crushes, and coworkers who identified outside of/beyond the gender binary.

For me, it is okay if you mess up my pronouns. Please ask me your questions and engage with me as you need and are interested. This hopefully makes it easier for you going forward and prepares you for the next gender diverse person in your life (and those already in your community). It also makes me feel much more comfortable. I would rather talk about my life with you and field your questions, instead of you awkwardly avoiding and acknowledging who I am.

For many, if you mistakenly use the wrong pronouns, simply apologize and then continue on. An excessive apology and overreaction is unnecessary and unhelpful. If you’re genuinely and authentically supportive, you work on it and make fewer and fewer mistakes with time. If you’ve known me my whole life, you’ve been using he and him for more than 35 years. All I ask for me is that people care enough to try learning. Because if you are in my life and with me in this life, see me fully as I am today, not for what you thought or what came before because it’s easier for you.

It’s an odd juxtaposition these days, feeling possibly more isolated than I have been from much of my community of people, while also feeling more authentically and completely me than maybe ever before. This brings me peace and that is enough for now.

..

[The movie The Devil Wears Prada was adapted to a musical, which I was able to see a few years ago. The cast- and costumes- were wonderful, though the overall product was mediocre. That said, Nigel's character sings a song about identity and growing up. I had never heard the song before and during the show, cried due to how much it resonated with me at this time in my life. Not the best quality but you can listen to "Seen." Let me know what you think and if you ultimately see the full show- I heard it went through more edits and updates!]

[khaire-traveler]

you get enough asks of people with similar questions and i told myself i wouldn’t add to the list, but i’m rly struggling rn.

i’ve been an active hellenistic polytheist for 3 years now, and an apollo worshiper for around 2.

yet, i haven’t really felt a connection to apollo for a year now. anytime i pray to him, it feels hollow.

i know that the advice people typically give is to move on, but i feel like then it’d be a waste. its quite terrible of me to say, but ive spent so much money and time setting up such a dedicated altar just for it to collect dust.

any ideas or advice? no worries if not. have a lovely day my friend :]

Hey, Max, thank you for the ask! I apologize for the delay.

So, I originally wrote a whole ass post that had paragraphs of information, suggestions, and advice, but Tumblr hates me and decided to just crash and not save literally any of it. 🙃 I'm hoping I can give you good information regardless of this setback. Also, please don't feel bad about asking questions; I honestly enjoy it, especially since some information can be hard to come by. All my information is merely advice and suggestions based on my own experience, but I hope it's helpful to you - and maybe even others - regardless.

The first thing I'll do is share some links that could be helpful for you. This one talks a bit about Deity Disconnect™ - something that I feel I can safely say has happened to every pagan and polytheist. Sometimes faith and spirituality come in waves, ebbing in and out as naturally as the ocean, but it doesn't always mean that a deity has left us. If you'd like to try reconnecting with Apollo through bonding activities and the like, this link and that link both lead to posts that mention some ways you can bond with a deity. Although I'm not sure if any of these will be helpful to you, I hope that they are. 🧡

I feel it's also important to mention that many devotees of Apollo find it difficult to connect with him during the winter. For me, I feel the feeling of disconnect begin as early as the middle of Fall and stay as late as the very beginning of Spring. Many attribute this to the myth of Apollo leaving for Hyperborea and leaving his seat in Delphi for Dionysus to temporarily take over. If you've been trying to reconnect during Winter, or even potentially Fall, the disconnect from Apollo may feel even stronger than usual because of this. I would wait to readdress this issue with him until Spring rolls around, personally, just in case this disconnect could be contributing to your problem at all.

Along with all that, I'm inclined to ask whether you've addressed this topic with him directly. Have you been able to communicate with Apollo directly about this and get his thoughts? In my experience, deities will typically let you know if they're stepping away, rather than yoinking away super suddenly and without a given cause (or at the very least, they are more than willing to provide a reason if you ask them); this tends to be especially true when it comes to deities you've been very close with in the past. If you haven't already, I'd highly encourage you to speak with Apollo in a format that allows him to provide a response to your questions, such as divination or meditation.

I do also have to say that sometimes deities leave but return later. It's entirely possible he is simply taking a break or stepping away temporarily. Maybe he feels you need to focus on other deities more at this time or he has simply taught all he can (or all that's relevant) at the moment. He could return full force later on in your life, be it a few days from now or a few years. This is something I'd ask him about specifically in order to clarify his intentions.

Ok, but what if he really is leaving and doing so in a more permanent fashion? Well, in that case, I encourage you to do whatever feels right for you. Take down his altar, or leave it up; it's entirely your choice. Even when deities leave our lives, they never truly leave, and most of the time, if we need a deity's help, we are still welcome to call upon their aid, even if they've "left". It's also possible that he is still ok with you worshipping or venerating him, even if he does choose to step away. There are some deities that I mostly just venerate but don't do much else past that, and that's perfectly ok. Sometimes it just feels nice to acknowledge a deity and show them appreciation, even if you're not particularly close to them. These are all things you need to have a direct conversation with Apollo about, however, as I cannot speak for him or what he is comfortable with.

Although it can feel like a waste of time, energy, and hell even money, please do remember that it is never truly a waste if your relationship to Apollo meant something - and still means something - to you. You put genuine time, love, and care into the altar you created, and regardless of what happens going forward, I'm sure he still appreciates that. It's important to know that when a deity feels the need to step away, it's not because they stop caring for you or the time you've spent together; they simply feel it's in your best interest for them to be more distant for the time being, but regardless, they are still there. They are still present in the world and life around you. Apollo can still be felt in the warmth of the sun on your skin and the rush of excitement you feel when the beat of music reverberates in your chest. He is still near, even if he feels far. He is still there, even if he feels absent. These are not things you're required to focus on or even acknowledge, however, if it makes you uncomfortable or you'd rather terminate your relationship with Apollo. I just figure it may be comforting to hear.

If the following doesn't apply to you at all or you simply disagree with my perspective, please feel free to completely disregard all this; it's heavily based on my own personal experience and beliefs. Do you work with Apollo or worship him? I know it sounds rather silly and somewhat ridiculous to ask, but I have personally noticed a significant change in my deity relationships when I focused more on worship than work. I have noticed that, a lot of times, deity work can end in that deity eventually departing because the things you're working on can eventually be resolved or improved enough that you no longer need them. To me, personally, deity worship often has a more permanent meaning, although that obviously doesn't ring true for everyone. If you were doing deity work with Apollo, it's entirely possible that he feels he's helped you the best he can with whatever you originally reached out about and has decided that you no longer need his assistance or guidance. If that's the case (which it obviously could not be), then you can absolutely ask him if he's comfortable switching your relationship to something that is more long-term worship based rather than short-term "please assist me with this specific thing" based. And since I'm sure someone will mention it, I do want to acknowledge that there is nuance in every type of deity relationship, and you can absolutely have a long-term "deity work" based relationship and a short-term "deity worship" based relationship. There are exceptions to everything, and everything contains nuance and complexity. I don't want to discount either of those things; this is just me sharing something based on my personal understanding, and no one has to take me at face-value.

Anyway, I hope I was able to answer your question and give you some suggestions or advice that helps. Regardless, I hope you're able to figure this situation out and that Apollo can address you more directly about it. I wish you the best on your spiritual journey. Take care, and have a good day/night. 🧡

[quill-pen]

As you can probably guess, I was inspired. Enjoy!

Lovely

It was stupid. Bess knew it was stupid. And that only made her feel even more pathetic.

It shouldn't have bothered her--other people's words and reactions. At twenty-eight years of age and secure and happy in her marriage with Ebenezer Scrooge--her best friend and love of her life who never failed to somehow make her feel gorgeous and perfect despite her flaws--nobody else's opinions should have even registered in Bess' mind beyond the drone of a mosquito. But for some reason they did.

Dress shopping with the other women in the Pack was usually fun. Even if only one of them meant to buy something, they all ended up trying on garments and making a little fashion show of the experience. For a brief moment, they were all able to become silly girls again and forget about the troubles of the world as they enjoyed each other's company. For Bess, specifically, she was finally able to enjoy shopping without her mother's incessant bullying and actually got to have a taste of what being a normal teenager might have been. And nine times out of ten, the outing went swimmingly. But you could only go so long before that one time out of ten decided to rear its ugly head.

They were at one of the ritziest boutiques in town, helping Ethel's littlest sister, Ella, pick out a ball gown. It was a special occasion as this was Ella's first ball. It was even more special as she would be going with Ernie as an officially courting couple. Ella had very rich tastes, hence the glamorous shop.

"Well, at least Ernie's paying for it and not me," Ethel had muttered as they walked through the doors.

That was where trouble had reared its ugly head almost immediately.

As a place as fancy as this one seemed to dictate, the attendants were stereotypically French and snobbish. Twiggy, lithe, dressed in dark, expertly pressed dresses and aprons, and boasting expertly styled buns so that not a hair was out of place, the ladies had very clearly looked down their thin, straight, perfect noses at the group. Their perfectly painted lips had all twisted in distaste. To them, it seemed, the Pack was nothing more than common rabble. Still, they were business-minded enough to help the group, albeit curtly and coldly.

Those facts all should have been taken as warning signs to leave.

Protective of her loved ones as she was, the attendants' attitudes got Bess' ire up and more than a few times she'd snarled a warning at them. When one of them had made a comment about Ella's hair ("'Tis no use! Only a gunny sack would pair well with this haystack!"), Bess had been quick to snap back and put the woman in her place ("If I was going to insult someone's hair, I'd at least make sure I'd plucked my mustache before I did it."). The scowl and raging blush of humiliation had been worth the slight guilt Bess always felt for attacking someone's looks. It wasn't her first choice of defense, and it honestly made her feel a bit sick to do, but she was not above stooping to her opponent's level. The only fair fight was an even fight after all, whether it was clean or dirty.

Admittedly, that was most likely what had brought the situation on.

"Your turn, Bess!" Ella chirped as Hela returned from the dressing rooms after having just shown off her gown of choice. "Oh, I can't wait to see your pick!"

"I just know you're going to look amazing in it," Addie added with a grin a mile wide on her face.

"If it looks half as good on you as it did on the mannequin, Dove, I'm going to have to insist you buy it," Ethel only half-teased with an encouraging shove of Bess' shoulder. "Mostly because I just want to watch your man faint at the sight of you again."

"Oh, and he certainly will, too!" Hela exclaimed, positively beaming. "It's such a bold and flattering cut! Uncle won't be able to take his eyes off of you, Bess!"

"Or his hands," Ethel remarked a bit snidely.

Bess, tried to smile back at the ladies and engage with them, but most of her attention was focused on the way the tallest of the attendants--the one she'd made the mustache comment to--was scowling at her. She could already feel her stomach souring. During these outings, the Yank usually opted to have one of the other ladies help her into and out of frocks when needed. If they were in a place that wouldn't allow the customers to handle merchandise in such a way, Bess asked Ida, because lady's maids were different from common customers apparently. But Ida was away visiting her sick father and this place definitely wouldn't allow customers to handle the merchandise so familiarly.

Guard already up for the rudeness she knew had to be coming, Bess moved towards the changing room to try on her dress. The tallest attendant, who would be helping her change, walked on ahead and came to stand beside the entrance of the room. A small, forced smile just barely creased her face. Once concealed behind the curtain, Bess began to unbutton her blouse and trousers. She was keenly aware of the attendant's eyes on her. In fact, she would have been surprised if she took off her blouse and didn't find a pair of holes burnt into the back of it.

"I must say, I admire you, my lady," the woman finally spoke into the tension.

"Oh?" Bess responded, bracing herself.

"Oui. It's not every woman that can pull off wearing trousers, but here you are wearing them regardless."

First arrow.

"Um... thanks."

"Only with such a... wide bone structure, I would have thought you would wish to hide it beneath skirts rather than flaunt it about."

Arrow number two. This one actually stung a bit. "Wide bone structure" immediately brought back every horrible memory of her mother and clothing. "You truly believe you're going to get your bloody hips through that thing?" "Oh, Elizabeth, that will make your fanny look bigger than it does already." "It's truly amazing how you can find any clothes to fit you at all with your... unique build, Darling." "I do wonder if you'll ever find something to wear that makes you look less manly."

"I'm perfectly comfortable with my bone structure, as it happens," Bess responded firmly. It wasn't exactly a lie. But it wasn't really the truth either. Her feelings concerning her looks were... complicated to say the least; all due to the verbal and emotional abuse she'd endured growing up from both peers and adults alike. Her whole life she'd been "too stout", "too big", "too muscular", both "too thin" and then somehow a moment later "too chubby", "not curvy enough" here, "too curvy" there, had "too many freckles--looks like the pox". And that wasn't even delving into her scars. Now, even while Bess was slowly beginning to unlearn and reject such hateful lies as she finally was allowed to blossom and come into her own as a woman, she still struggled to see past the image vile words had painted of her for years. Especially on bad days.

"Ah, I see. Very good, Madam." The attendant then muttered something just loud enough for Bess to hear. It was in French; Bess didn't know much and what little she did, she struggled with, but the American was certain she heard the word for "donkey" among them.

Bess bit her tongue. Trying to tamp down the anger that was starting to simmer inside her chest, she continued to strip down to her undergarments. She tried to ignore the heat of the eyes lingering on the scars on her arms and neck.

"I'm afraid you'll have to take off your corset and chemise, Madame," the attendant primly stated.

Bess felt like a horse had just kicked her in the gut. "Wh-What?" she croaked, spinning around to face her. The coal-haired woman immediately felt sick, her heart speeding up to thunder in her chest as the thought of this judgmental harpy of a woman, who had likely just compared her to a donkey, seeing her scars and imperfections ricocheted around her mind.

"The dress you've chosen," the French woman replied, the barest hint of a smirk curling her painted lips, "the bodice is of corset design itself and is meant to sit against the skin. I'm afraid you won't have a proper fit otherwise." She began to move towards the curtain of the little changing room. "Should I put this back for you to find a different frock?"

Bess stood frozen, unsure what to do or say. She liked that dress and really wanted to try it on; she wasn't about ready to let anyone else dictate what she could or couldn't wear after having dealt with that for so long with her mother, even just when trying something on. But, at the same time, she disliked the idea of this woman getting an eyeful of her exposed body and didn't want that just as much. Bess could already imagine the looks and ridicule she'd get from this uppity witch.

"I... um... You're sure it wouldn't work to try on over a shift?"

An infuriatingly patronizing smile. "I am afraid not, Madame."

Bess mouth twisted as she did battle within herself, her anxiety duking it out with her bullheadedness. Her bullheadedness, after having grown in strength since finding herself a happy life with Ebenezer and her Pack, eventually won out. "Fine," the American huffed, turning her back to the woman. "Would you help with my corset then, please?" She knew, on some level, she'd probably regret this.

"But of course, Madame." The tone of that voice was so grating, Bess wanted nothing more than to whip back around and punch the words back down the woman's gullet.

Soon enough, Bess was relieved of her corset and standing in only her shift, drawers, and stockings. She supposed she should have been happy that, at least, she wasn't being asked to strip completely nude. However, it was hard to be happy about anything when the reaction she could have easily guessed was coming, came after she removed her chemise.

There was a sharp, horrified gasp from behind her as her scar criss-crossed back was bared to the little world that was the changing room. "Mon Dieu!"

Bess did her best not to flinch. But she couldn't bring herself to turn around to face the woman down either, which, undeniably, would have been the best and bravest thing to do--make the woman believe Bess was unaffected by the whole thing and all that. Bess didn't have the fortitude to do that; both because, she was absolutely affected by this, and also because of what would be seen if she turned around. Her whiplashed back was one thing, but if this uppity Frenchwoman saw the letters carved into her chest and belly, Bess was sure she'd die with the humiliation. This was exactly why she didn't like anyone outside of her circle helping her with clothing.

Bess' next thought was that she should say something--anything--in reference to her scars. She could think of nothing, however. And by the time the notion had even crossed her mind, the attendant was already sticking her head out of the dressing room. "Bernadette! Yvonne! Viens ici maintenant! Regarde ça!"

And just like that, all three of the attendants working in this boutique were in her dressing room, gawking and gasping and rapidly speaking in quiet French. They giggled amongst themselves, going so far as to reach out and poke at Bess' back with their perfectly manicured fingers.

Bess whirled around and snagged one of them by the wrist when that happened, glowering with hellfire and brimstone down at the little French woman and snarling at her to not do that again if she wanted to keep her hand. The American quickly regretted that move, as now the women could all see the scarring wasn't just limited to her backside. And when they caught sight of both the 'P' and 'S' branded into her flesh, the attendants' gazes all turned from cruelly mirthful to just plain cruel. Though they continued to chatter in French, the tones of their voices easily told Bess they were aware of the meaning of such scars and were judging her.

Bess immediately felt like she was young girl, again, and not in a good way. She hugged herself tight and shrunk into a corner, trying to find someway around the half-circle of women that had her barricaded into a corner so she could get back her clothes and retreat. This was a mistake. This was all a huge mistake coming here! Bess fought the tears stinging her eyes, not wanting to let the women see her cry.

Suddenly the one Bess thought was named Yvonne gasped sharply, her face lighting up. "Wait!" she exclaimed. "I realize why you look so familiar--I remember where I've seen you now! The papers!"

Bess' heart dropped into her stomach. "Please, just stop," she croaked, her voice sounding as small and pathetic as she'd heard it since marrying her husband. "I've changed my mind about the dress--I don't want to try it on. I-I'd just like to leave, please."

The women weren't listening. Nor were they moving. And as short and spriggy as they were, they built a formidable wall to stand before.

Yvonne continued on: "You're the wife of philanthropist Ebenezer Scrooge!"

Bess said nothing and simply wished to disappear.

"Wife of Ebenezer Scrooge?" the woman that had called them all into the room snorted incredulously. "Yvonne, surely you're mistaken! Such a fine gentleman would never saddle himself with such a beaten-down trollop." Her lips curled into a sinister sneer as she leered towards the American again. "I doubt a gentleman such as Mr. Scrooge would even be able to stand in the same room with such a tainted slut and not be utterly disgusted!"

"She has the figure of a bull ox!" Bernadette sniped. "Not all the easy sex in the world would be worth putting up with something so unappealing. Why, just the sight of those shoulders would make any man permanently impotent I imagine. And that arse!" Somehow Bernadette managed to reach around a smack Bess' read-end. "I know there are such things as arse-men, but this is ridiculous! Not to mention those hips! With those shoulders and hips combined, it's a wonder she could even walk through our door!"

"And you say she wanted to try on this dress?" Yvonne tittered, motioning to the blue and black satin ensemble hanging on the hook. She threw back her head as if that were the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"I don't want to try on anything anymore," Bess repeated more loudly this time. "If you'd please just let me by." She tried to move past them, but they stepped in her way and physically shoved her into the corner again. "Please?!"

"If her shoulders weren't the issue with the dress, her tits certainly would be," Bernadette cackled. She reached out and tried to pinch a swell of one of Bess' breasts, her hand quickly being smacked away by her victim. The retaliation didn't throw her. "Was there any stuffing in her corset when you helped her off with it, Pauline?"

"I say, the only thing she could wear would be a ship's tarp," Pauline mocked. "And even then, she'd be doing the tarp a disservice by wearing it. She's a cow!"

Yvonne piped back in: "A cow in pretty frocks and lipstick."

The three women all broke out into howling peels of laughter at that.

Bess had never felt so humiliated. Not even Lottie revealing her history in the middle of a party had felt as terrible as this. She was back in school again, being cornered and harassed by all her schoolmates. Her body was automatically bracing for the physical assault that would come after the ridicule, just as it always had. The Yankee turned away into the corner and ducked her head to let her hair fall to hide her face. Tears began to trickle down the inside of her nose. This was a mistake--coming here was a huge mistake! Deciding to try on that dress was a huge mistake! She just wanted out of here! She just wanted to go home and shut herself away from the world forever! You are so stupid and pathetic, Bess, the voice that sounded like her mother hissed in her head. It had been a long time since she'd heard that.

All at once, the curtain opened and Hela popped into the room. "What is going on in here?" she almost growled, her tone already hard and cold. Her dark, mahogany eyes moved around the room from the hanging dress, to the pile of Bess' clothes, to the three attendants hemming a half-naked and cowering Bess into a corner. It didn't take a genius to see what was happening here.

Gasping in horror, Hela hastened to her friend and aunt's side, shoving the French women out of her way. "Out!" she ordered harshly, glaring daggers at each of them. "Get out! You horrible beasts! Out!" She took off her shawl as she reached Bess and draped it over her shoulders. Wrapping her arms around the American, she sheltered her from the others with her body. "Out!" she bellowed. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves! You call yourselves "ladies" but you're no such thing! Ladies are full of dignity and compassion and treat others with respect! Ladies would never act so cruelly and harshly to others! I know the owner of this establishment and she'll hear from me directly how her employees harass and bully and assault her customers! I doubt she'll be very impressed! Now, out! Get out, you cats!"

Effectively scared off by Hela's scoldings and threats, the attendants all fled from the changing room, leaving the pair alone.

Hela turned her attention back to her aunt. "Oh, Bess, Love, are you all right?" she breathed. She pulled away from Bess and gripped her shoulders, pulling her to stand up right. She tried to look into Bess' face, but was unable through the effective curtain of coal black curls. "Oh, Darling, I'm so sorry! One of us should have come back here with you. What perfectly horrid brutes! Don't you listen to a word of what they said, Bess. They're shallow, cruel, insignificant people who are too small on the inside to possess any sort of character or personality."

That was all easy for Hela to say--she hadn't been there for the whole thing. She hadn't been the target. And though Bess knew deep down, her friend and niece was right, the pain and anger of what had just happened to her was so much stronger and easier to think about. And Bess couldn't stop thinking about it.

Freed from the wall of her tormentors, Bess quickly moved to her clothes and began redressing as fast as she could. She wanted out of here. She wanted to go home and shut herself away from the world like the ugly beast she was forever; the outside world need never bear witness to her again.

Hela watched in confusion. "Um... Bess?" She motioned to the dress still hanging there. "Don't... Don't you want to try-"

"No," came the simple and rather harsh answer. Bess' voice quivered and she felt even more stupid and pathetic for it.

When she finished dressing, Bess handed Hela's shawl back to her, muttering a 'thank you' under her breath. She didn't look at her friend; she didn't dare lift her head. If she did, she knew Hela would see the tears welling in her eyes and the Indian woman, ever sweet, affectionate, and empathetic, would undoubtedly come rushing in to embrace her. Bess would cry if that happened--she didn't want to do that. Not here. She wanted to wallow in pity in the confines of her own home where she didn't have to put up with a group of women trying to reassure her that those bitches were wrong. She didn't need or want their pity. Besides, she knew everything those women had said was wrong, and here she was, hurting with completely shattered confidence anyway. How could she face anyone under the weight of that humiliation?

Bess left the dressing room, ignoring Hela's calls as she hastened towards the door, hugging herself and keeping her head down and eyes on the floor the entire time. She ignored the inquisitions and calls of the rest of the group and just beelined for the exit, nearly throwing the door open in her desperation to get out. The woman didn't stop or slow down until she reached the end of the block and hailed a cab. Only once she had told the cabby where to go, paid him extra to not pick up anyone else in between, and was in the confines of the carriage alone, did Bess finally let the tears fall. Her chest feeling it would explode under the immense pressure of pent-up sobs, she collapsed back into the bench seat, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed, her entire body shaking.

Bess always struggled with her self-image and worth on some level--it would probably be a continuous battle throughout her life--but it had been a long while since she'd felt this ugly and worthless.

"Bess?!" Ebenezer called urgently as he came through the front door of Scrooge Manor. He held the door open for Prudence as she trotted primly in behind him before closing it and stripping off his overcoat and top hat. "Bess?! Sweetheart?!"

There was the sound of thundering feet running down the hall from the direction of the library, and the banker just had time to turn and open his arms before he was tackled but a little, curly-brown-haired girl. "Got'cha!"

"Uncle Ebby!" Millie cheered joyfully. She wrapped her arms tight around her father figure's shoulders as he scooped her up off the floor and into his arms. The nearly ten-year-old giggled as she was beleaguered by a storm of whisker kisses. In return, she blew a loud raspberry into one of the man's muttonchops, leaving a little spittle behind in her wake, and giggled like mad when it earned her a comically overexaggerated reaction of disgust.

Ebenezer chuckled along with her; slate-blue eyes soft with affection for the child. He was a blessed man in many aspects, and coming home to this little sweetheart--however chaotic she could be--was one of them. "Hello, my little fire-sprite," he purred. "How was your day?"

"Great!" Millie chirped. "Today for lunch, I had a peanut butter and jelly and tuna fish sandwich."

The man's stomach churned just a bit at the thought. "I thought Bess packed you a plain tuna sandwich," he remarked with a raised brow. "Where did the peanut butter and jelly come in?"

"Twila. I told her about my sandwich and she thought it sounded good but still wanted hers. And I thought her sandwich was good but still wanted mine. So she gave me half of hers and I gave her half of mine and we smashed them together."

From her seat on the floor beside them, Prudence made a groaning sound, as if in disgust.

"Ah. I see. And was it any good?"

"It wasn't that good until Dusty gave us the pickles off his sandwich. He doesn't like pickles."

Ebenezer found himself glancing down at Prudence to exchange an unsettled look. "And... the pickles made your sandwiches taste better?"

"Loads better!" (Scrooge didn't--couldn't--believe that.) A slightly shameful look back over the little girl's face. "I was going to save a little for you to try, but I was really hungry and forgot. Sorry."

Ebenezer smiled. "Oh, that's quite all right, Little Love. I don't need to taste it. Your word that it was good is more than enough." More than enough to believe that this child had the absolute strangest pallet he'd ever heard of! Was this the normal thing with small children? He couldn't remember making or tasting any such food combinations as a child.

"Darling, would you happen to know if Bess is home?" Ebenezer wondered aloud to the child. He had more pressing issues to consider at the moment than... questionable sandwich flavor combinations.

Millie nodded. "Yep. She's upstairs in bed." A somewhat worried expression came over the little girl's face as she added. "I think Bessie might be sick, Uncle Ebby. When I came home, I wanted to see if she would help on a report I need to write for school, but Ida said she was in bed already and wasn't feeling very good, so I couldn't see her."

Prudence whined sorrowfully at that, her ears drooping and soulful, honey-gold eyes melancholy and empathetic.

Ebenezer smiled sympathetically at the child, his heart both filled with worry for Bess after what he'd heard earlier from Hela and touched by Millie's consideration and worry for her big sister. "Don't worry, Fire-sprite," he purred as he gently kissed the little one's head in reassurance, "that's what I'm here for."

Millie smiled hopefully at her adoptive father. "You're gonna help Bessie feel better?"

Prudence cocked her head and looked curiously at her master, ears shifting forward slightly in expectance.

"I'm going to try," Ebenezer assured both the girl and beast. "You can ask her about your report later, all right? Right now, why don't you take Prudence and go work on some ideas for it?"

"All right," Millie conceded. She looked a little less worried. "Can you give Bessie a hug and kiss for me when you see her? And tell her I love her?"

Ebenezer chuckled warmly as he patted the girl's back. "I will," he answered, nuzzling his forehead against hers to make the child smile. "But you can do it yourself later, too, all right?"

Millie giggled as she squished her little nose against the man's large one while nuzzling back. "Okay, that sounds good."

"Kiss for luck?"

"Mmmwah!" Millie pecked her adoptive father's comically puckered lips in a childlike kiss. "Kiss for luck." Then she wrapped her arms tight around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder for a moment as she hugged him. "I love you, Uncle Ebby," she sighed. "I love that you take care of Bessie. She always takes care of us--she deserves someone to take care of her too."

The Englishman's heart melted in response to that. He cradled his adopted daughter close for a moment, allowing himself a moment to linger in the happiness of a life he once thought, not too long ago, he'd never have. If only the old him could see him now. "I love you too, Millie," he returned, nuzzling his cheek against her hair as a gentle smile curled his lips. "And I promise I'll look after your sister." Setting the girl back on her own two feet, he patted her seat and pushed her off towards the library again. "Go start on your report."

Grinning from ear to ear again, Millie scampered off. "Thanks, Uncle Ebby! You're the best! C'mon, Meatball-head!"

With a playful 'woof', Prudence jumped to her feet and loped off after the little girl, tail waving through the air like a joyful flag.

Ebenezer watched the pair depart with a warm smile and chuckle. Then he turned on his heel and made for the stairs, taking two at a time, his urgency to reach his wife once again paramount. He jogged down the hall and reached the bottom of the second flight where he was met by a descending Ida. The man noticed the covered silver tray in the little woman's hands: His eyes went to hers in inquiry. He was met with a downtrodden look and a shake of a blonde head. His heart sank.

"She wouldn't touch a morsel," Ida stated glumly. "Wouldn't even look at the food. And she refuses to talk about what's made her unhappy."

"I believe I know," Ebenezer grumbled. The anger over what Hela had had witnessed and told him of earlier bubbled up inside his chest again. He moved on up the steps, gently squeezing the lady's maid's shoulder as he passed her by. "Thank you, Ida, Dear--I'll handle it from here."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Scrooge. I tried to coax her, but Lady Bess is just so terribly, terribly unhappy. I haven't seen her in this way since Lord Calloway told her she was to marry Mr. Bryant."

"I know, Ida, I know, but you have nothing to apologize for. In your efforts, you've shown Bess kindness and friendship, and after what she's been through today, that's what Bess has needed more than anything. I assure you you've been a great blessing to her."

Ida's rose red lips curled into a touched smile as she nodded a quiet thanks. Then she continued on down the hall.

Scrooge continued up. In only a few strides he had reached the top floor and was approaching the large door to the master bedroom. He knocked: "Bess? My darling? Might I come in, Dear?" He didn't wait for a response as he didn't expect to receive one, and entered the bedroom. He found it dark on the other side, all curtains drawn and light sources extinguished. The sunlight that seeped around the heavy velvet curtains was only just enough to see by and make out things until one's eyes adjusted. Once his had, Ebenezer took a closer look at his surroundings. Both the standing mirror and the mirror of Bess' vanity had been covered up with thick blankets, as if they'd been put into storage; the outfit Bess had donned just that morning had been chucked into the built but unlit hearth; and the bed curtains, despite it being a balmy, early summer day, were drawn completely shut around the bed. The muffled noise of sniffles and weeping came from within the enclosure of the bed.

His heart clenching in his chest, the Englishman approached the bed. "Bess?"

"Please, go away," his wife's voice came from beyond the curtains. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Darling, I'm not going anywhere until I can see and speak with you," Ebenezer gently pushed back. He didn't reach to open the barrier between them yet; he wanted Bess to make that decision for herself. "Brightness, I'm worried about you. I saw Hela--she stopped by the office and told me what happened at the dress shop. Despicable women--they have no business being in such an industry with such malicious characters! I have every intention of taking this up with Lady Tookshire."

"That doesn't change the fact of what they said," Bess whimpered. "Or what I look like."

Ebenezer raised a bushy brow in confusion. "What you look like? My most darling moonbeam, you're positively beautiful! Made up, dressed down, or wearing whatever the little girls ask you to for a tea party, you're always an indisputable pinnacle of feminine magnificence.

There was a harsh scoff from beyond the curtains. "'Pinnacle of feminine magnificence'?" Bess' tone was bitter and mocking. All at once the curtains before Ebenezer were ripped open to reveal a very bedraggled and lowly looking Bess kneeling on the bed in only her gauzy shift. Her midnight eyes were red and puffy from hours of crying, dark streaks of wet mascara running down her cheeks. Her nose was dripping and her lipstick had been haphazardly wiped off, leaving it messy and clownish, which certainly wouldn't have helped Bess' confidence any. Her hair was tangled and messy, strands clinging to her tear-stained cheeks and lips. "Does any of this look like a pinnacle of feminine magnificence to you, Ebenezer?!" She grabbed her shift and ripped it off over her head to expose her bare form. "Do these look like it?!" She grabbed at her breasts. "Or these?!" she smacked her palms so hard against her hips, red marks were left behind. "Or this!" She angled herself a bit to show her bum as she slapped that hard enough to make Ebenezer flinch and cringe. "Ebenezer, in the places that matter, I'm too wide, too small, too muscular, and too big to ever be considered for feminine magnificence. You've seen the magazines Josie reads--do any of those gorgeous women in there look even a bit like me?"

Ebenezer gazed in soft empathy at his wife, his heart breaking at her words. "Bess-"

"No," Bess answered herself, a fresh wave of tears burning her cheeks and making her vision swim. "They don't. They're all slender and willowy and perfectly proportionate and petite." Bess sank dejectedly into the bed, her entire body drooping with wretchedness. "Those women..." she croaked with a trembling voice, hands fisting into the bedding as she tried to control herself, "... they're the pinnacles of feminine magnificence, Ebenezer. And me?" Bess shook her head as she drew a shuddering breath, her chest feeling so painfully tight she feared it might burst open and flood the room with her self-loathing and pity. "I'm just... a cow in pretty frocks and lipstick."

That statement lit the fuse in Ebenezer's chest and he scowled, the creases between his brows deep as canyons. "Now see here!" the Englishman barked sternly. He sat on the edge of the bed and firmly grabbed the woman by her shoulders. "I'll not hear any such vile, hateful lies spoken against my beloved, especially not when they fall from her own lips!"

Bess shook her head in denial. "Ebenezer-"

"No, I won't hear it!" her husband insisted more fervently. "Any of it, Bess! Too big? Too small? Too wide? Too muscular? A cow?" Pain and disbelief threaded itself through Ebenezer's voice, softening it into a whisper. His expression changed from anger to hurt. "My luminous moonflower... how could ever say such things about yourself? How could you ever believe them, when you are, without a shadow of doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever been blessed to know?"

Bess' chin trembled as her mouth drew into a thin line and she bit down on her bottom lip. Releasing a sob, she buried her face in her hands and wept: She cried so hard, the massive bed seemed to shake along with her naked body.

Heart shattering into pieces for his beloved, Ebenezer reached out and drew the wailing woman into his arms. He cradled her close to his heart, wishing more than anything he could take the pain, humiliation, and the insecurities that caused them away from her forever. As he held his wife, the man silently cursed. He cursed the people in Bess' past for the abuse they'd forced her to endure, including her own accursed mother, dead as she was. He cursed Bess' past beau, who had never made her feel even an ounce like the radiant beauty she was. He cursed the attendants that had attacked, humiliated, and berated Bess; they would certainly be feeling the full brunt of his wrath and then some, as they were the only people he could currently punish for their misdeeds against his beloved. He even cursed society for its ridiculous beauty standards and the horrid frivolity they fostered: If his wonderful, exquisite Bess wasn't classified as 'beautiful' by society's standards, who in the blood hell was?

After a long interlude, Bess' wails faded into soft, sniffling sobs, then stuttering breaths punctuated by quiet squeaks. Finally, she quieted altogether. Even so, the pair remained seated there in the gloom, the woman protectively cocooned by her mate's frame as he held her tightly. She nuzzled closer, her breath still shaking and her chest still aching despite not being so tight.

"Why?" Bess finally whispered, her throat raw. "There are so many indisputably gorgeous women in the world... and you could have easily had your pick of any one of them. Any one. So why, in all of God's creation, did you pick me, Ebenezer Scrooge? Why would you pick a beaten and battered, scarred, soiled woman who's built like a bull ox and hauling a wagon-load of sorrows behind her to be your wife?"

Ebenezer made a quiet, dry chuckle, stroking his hands up the woman's crisscrossed back with tender hands. "My wonderful wife," he purred softly into her ear, "you are viewing yourself through the same lens of cruel jealousy and spiteful hatred that everyone else from your past has only ever viewed you with." He traced a finger along a long scar on Bess' back. "Scars? I don't see scars, Bess: I see veins of rich and precious ores running along your flesh, full of untapped beauty and promise. A small bust? All I see is the soft, shapely, perfect bosom of the woman I admire--a bosom that provides more than enough entertainment to keep me satisfied and is gawked at by that blasted fiend Topper far, far too much."

Bess couldn't help the snort that escaped her at the mention of Harry's philandering friend, Sit Topper.

That amused snort gave Ebenezer a boost of confidence. "Your muscles?" He brought his hands up Bess' back and smoothed them over her shoulders and arms, admiring the ripple of her flesh beneath his blunt fingertips. "Stunning, strong, powerful--sculpted so perfectly, Pygmalion could do no better. As for your hips and arse?" The man chuckled salaciously as he dropped his hands back down to squeeze said areas. "Well, my pretty girl, I think you're very well aware of my preferences by now: I've certainly bitten into that delicious, plump peach of yours enough to make them clear, haven't I? And your beautiful hips were made to cradle mine--sculpted just for me to notch between and lock with; of that I have no doubt."

Gently gripping his mate's shoulders, the man pushed her away just enough to meet her face to face. He gazed into her face with all the tender besottedness and reverence in the world. "If only I could give you my eyes for a single moment, my gorgeous love," he murmured adoringly. Lifing a hand, Ebenezer cupped Bess' wet cheek and stroked the remaining teardrops away from her cheekbone with his thumb. "Then you would see those things and more so easily. You would see yourself as I see you--as everyone who loves you sees you."

Frustratingly, Bess felt the burn of more tears, a sense of dread she hadn't felt for a long while coming over her. The boutique hags must have truly sent her mindset years back, because the next thing the woman knew, she was desperately pleading as though she were back with old beau: "Please, don't tease me, Ebenezer--not about this--not now." Turning away, Bess pushed out of her husband's gentle grip and laid down, keeping her back to the man and burying her face in the feather pillows in a pitiful attempt to try and hide her fresh tears. She felt so pathetic. Why was she like this? Why were a few mean words from nasty strangers all it took to tear her down? She wasn't a young girl anymore--she was a married woman; she should have been over this sort of emotional immaturity by now!

The small smile that had drifted onto her husband's face faded into sadness. "Bess," he whispered, scooching closer and reaching out to stroke her bare back, "when have I ever teased you about such things? Even when I am being playful and glib with you, every comment I make regarding your glorious beauty and irresistible allure is nothing but sincere. Surely, you must know that. You must believe me when I tell you that."

Bess curled in on herself. "I... like to think that's true," she rasped out.

"It is true, my heart," Ebenezer insisted, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Every word is true--I promise you this; I'll swear to it on a Bible, over my sister's grave if I have to." Slipping into the bed, the Englishman slipped in beside his mate and wrapped his arms around her naked frame once again. He spooned her against him, nestling his face in the crook of her neck and pressing little kisses to her shoulder. "Elizabeth Felicity," he burred, "you are, without a doubt, the most amazing woman I have ever had the pleasure to know. Every day I marvel at the fact that I'm blessed to be your husband--that you chose me above all others. You say you don't understand why I chose you to be my wife when I could have any woman I wanted: Well, I don't understand why you would choose an old codger like me to be your husband when any man in the world would give arm and leg and throw himself at your feet to be called yours! Have you any idea how many men fantasize about women who look just like you, Bess--with your exquisite frame? If I wasn't so worried, I'd scandalize you, I'd tell you exactly how every boy I knew in my youth yammered on about how they wanted a strong, sturdy girl with curves, thick thighs, and a plump arse. Why, the first girl I ever took fancy to as a boy, looked far more like you than any fashion model."

Bess just dared to turn her face out of the pillows the smallest bit to glance at the man. "Truly?"

Ebenezer smiled sincerely. "Truly." Nuzzling into his woman's flesh, he trailed kisses along the scars of her neck, across the back of her shoulders, and up her nape before burying his face in the curls behind her ear. "Moonlight, I wish you could understand just how magnificent you truly are," he sighed, lips ghosting the tattered shell of her ear. His arms tightened around his wife as he pulled her closer, tucking her in tighter to him.

"It's not simply your appearance, Brightness--it's everything about you: You're heart, your mind, your soul, your spirit, your faith, your wit, your convictions, your will, your strength--everything. I have never met someone who has endured as much pain and sorrow as you have and still allows their heart to be soft and sensitive to the plights of others as yours is. I have never met anyone else who has been so abhorrently betrayed by life itself and is still willing to give second chances because they believe there is still good in the world. I haven't ever seen anyone give as freely as you have, even to perfect strangers." The man chuckled as he gave his love a somewhat ticklish squeeze, earning a squealing giggle from her. "How many times have I mentioned that the moment I fell in love with you was hardly a week after we first met, when you brought a basket of homemade dog biscuits for Prudence because I mentioned that she's allergic to those at the store? We barely knew each other beyond names, and you made such a thoughtful gesture because of a single, offhand comment."

Bess sniffled as a small smile tried trembling its way across her lips. "You... You make me sound l-like... I'm some sort of... angel," she remarked hoarsely.

Ebenezer chuckled at that. Unwrapping himself from the American, the Englishman gently shifted her onto her back as he braced himself above her. He gazed down at her, eyes soft and liquid with pure adoration. "I'm not convinced you're not," he whispered, lifting a hand to gently brush some stray hair from her face. He traced her lips with his thumb then brought it down her chin to softly hold it in his grip so she wouldn't try to turn away. "You are the kindest, gentlest, sweetest, most generous soul I've ever known, Mrs. Scrooge," he stated, holding her gaze. A smile crept across his face as a reddish-pink tinge began to bloom across Bess' face and chest. "Your heart is so open and accepting to those in need, be they man or beast. You're damnably clever--your wit and intelligence impeccable; I'd struggle to find a single person in Parliament that has a mind half as sharp as yours. In a world where no one would have faulted you for giving up on everything, you strove and fought for life and happiness and continue to strive and reach for it every single day despite the difficulties that arise: Such strength and courage has only ever otherwise been found in heroes in tales of old. Your faith and belief in everything from God to humanity to love is positively inspiring; there are more than a few Bishops who would do well to come to you for lessons of the Bible and its applications to life. If none of those things make you an angel, then I don't know what angels could possibly be, or even if they exist."

The smile finally shivered onto Bess' lips with those beautiful declarations. Bess' chest felt tight again, but it was warm this time and not as painful. Tears full of happiness shone in the woman's hopeful eyes. "Oh, Wolf...." Bess reached up to take her love's face between her hands, gingerly stroking his cheeks.

Moved by emotion, Ebenezer lowered his face to Bess' and tenderly, slowly kissed her. He gladly obliged when her grip gently tightened on him as a silent request for deeper contact, wrapping his arms around her again and angling his mouth over hers as he pressed her beneath his weight down into the bed. His lips massaged Bess', his tongue working in perfect tandem with them. When the Yank wrapped both arms and legs around him, her nails slipping along the satiny back of his waistcoat, he somehow sank even deeper, one hand coming up to tangle into dark waves and curls and anchor himself more fully.

Finally, the couple parted for air, and the man rested his forehead against his mate's. He gazed down into her entranced face, eyes dark and unable to pull away from her heavenly visage. "My she-wolf," he rumbled. "My moon queen--my goddess of midnight. Your beauty, inside and out, knows no bounds. Whether writhing naked in my arms or drowning in a frilly, pink monstrosity of a dress, you are an absolute vision of splendor. No other woman could ever hold a candle to you: The goddesses of legend would envy your beauty and grace and seek to destroy you for them. Have you never noticed how all attention naturally shifts to you when you're in the company of others? You steal away eyes, breaths, and hearts the moment you enter a room; you hold all in thrall the moment you smile. In days of old, poems would be penned, sonnets would be sung, and statues would be erected in tribute to your magnificence. I have half a mind to do those very things myself."

Ebenezer's hand slipped from Bess' curls to her cheek once again, just to be that much closer by skin-on-skin. "Bess, my most darling, wonderful, glorious moonlight, there is no doubt in my mind that you were made and sent from heaven to ease the pains and burdens of this lonely world." His eyes glittered a bit with moisture: "My lonely world." Pulling back a bit, the philanthropist kissed his wife's brow. "You are lovely," he murmured into her skin as he grazed his lips over her face to plant kisses elsewhere and left one on her temple. "The loveliest." He pecked her freckled nose and smirked a bit saucily at the woman. "I'd be more than happy to show you if you still don't believe me." There was a hint of coquettish danger in the man's voice as he made the offer.

Bess smirked at that, unable to help herself. She wove her fingers through soft, silver-steel locks and urged a pair of slender lips to once again mold with her plump ones. That was all the answer Ebenezer needed; he melted into her.

There will be a continuation. After all, we need to make sure those three harpies get their comeuppance, right?

@rom-e-o

[timelessphoenix]

"They managed to invent a generation that hates capitalism but fully buys into individualism"

I wanna weigh in here because I've never felt so recognized in a tumblr post. For the record, I'm the same age as OP.

When I was fifteenish, I started aligning myself with certain moral stances without properly realizing I was taking political stances. Once I was talking to my mom about one of these (homelessness, or raising minimum wage, I think), and she said, "ugh, you're a liberal." To which I was like, "????? huh?" Cuz I had been so sheltered that I was basically actively encouraged to not take a stand on anything until it was directly relevant to me.

When I was seventeen I took an American Studies class that went very in depth about the history of a lot of the social, political, and economic issues we see today. Since then, I've become very impassioned about learning more and recognizing when people ignorantly talk about these issues. It's very clear when people don't understand the true history behind, for example, suburbs, or corporations that dominate their industry (think J.P. Morgan, Rockefeller, Vanderbuilt, etc from the late late 19th century and compare to Bezos, Zuckerberg, Musk, etc).

It took me until I was nineteen or twenty to really focus and realize that screaming into the void online or in my parents' house about Worldly IssuesTM wasn't going to change anything. I finally recognized that if I wanted to, for example, overthrow an HoA rule about which type of flowers I'm allowed to plant in my front yard, I'd need to gather community-wide support and petition to the HoA. I'm using a stupid-simple example to highlight how terrified the thought of knocking on strangers' doors and asking about flowers is to me.

I was raised in the neighborhood my parents live in and have been there for the last 15ish years. Growing up, I was directly ordered to never open the door if someone knocks, and to never pick up the phone if it rings. And if I'm in that house even now and the doorbell rings, I stay put and silent and pretend no one is on the other side of the door. Same with the phone. It is simply n o t r i n g i n g.

Me and my sibling hardly ever played outside with the neighborhood kids, and weren't allowed to travel past the end of block if we did, and we'd get punished if we did. Usually the punishment entailed nothing more than a good yell and shaming about disrespecting our parents and how dangerous the world is wherever adults we know and my parents say they trust aren't watching us, but that's super effective on young children.

All this to say, I'm not comfortable talking to anyone on my block. All the neighbors keep to themselves, and only need to talk if their square-footage is being invaded overhead by our overgrown tree. I've figured out the first step to making a change in my community, only to discover there's no community at all. And the thought of talking to a stranger that's outside my age range is terrifying because of the way I was raised.

I can fully acknowledge that being raised like this has caused some deeply rooted social anxieties and a lack of knowledge of how to interact with people, a complacency to the seemimgly unchangeable world around me, a lack of life experience and good sense, and a fear of taking risks. Amongst other things.

I'm lucky not to have experienced being tracked, because my level of sheltered and my parents' old-fashioned nature also meant I didn't have a phone to track until high school, and by then my parents were so confident of their Obedient Children (rightly so) that they didn't even think to track us (until my mom found out about it my senior year of high school and proceeded to not force us to use Life360-- thanks mom!).

Even now, as a fully grown adult with the ability to make my own choices, I feel chained to the Law of the Land when I'm at my parents' house. I feel the need to scheme around their rules when I can and should just do the things I want to do. This is actively hurting my ability to be a regular human being that knows how to operate in society.

I'm so grateful I came across this post today because I can see that I'm not alone. I grew up so isolated that it absolutely feels like I'm the only one who has figured out shit like this because I lived it, but a little differently than others of my generation lived it: I didn't grow up chronically online; I turned to books instead, and music and film and other forms of art. I wasn't tracked, though I still felt and feel the terror of not letting my parents know where I am and what I'm doing at all times. I'm grateful I realized the problem sometime in my teens, and now I'm left wishing I felt I could do something about it.

It all just sucks, and I'm feeling ao ill-equipped to continue my journey through adulthood.

here's my hot take about my generation and people younger than me (I'm 22 years old)

The reason current teenagers and people in their really early 20s are conservative on accident and have such shitty takes on the internet is because our generation was much more sheltered than previous generations and because we were raised to be ok with orwellian servailence and that is 100% the fault of our parents, Reagan Era kidnapping panics, and the rise of technology all coming together to prevent us from doing the sketchy shit that sends parents into panic mode but which is also completely fundemental to childhood development. If your parents had even a crumb of money to their name and even a shred of free time they started tracking your phone as soon as it was possible to. I did not experience this because my parents are actively trying to live like it's the 1990s and still have not gotten cell phones of their own, and did not let me have one until I was 18 years old and it was no longer their choice, but literally over half of my friends in middle and high school had their phones tracked by their parents at some point or other, and we would occasionally find this out, not because their parents told them, but when we were trying to do the aforementioned sketchy shit and their parent's car would pull up. And I would, like a reasonable person after finding this out, encourage my friends to just leave their phones at home, and their response would be "What if I get kidnapped" or "My parents are just trying to keep me safe"

This in my estimation has lead to a combination of kids being terminally online because they do have internet access and are better at deleting search history than their parents think they are, but don't have the freedom to go out and do shit without their parents' knowledge or consent, so they have the most privacy from the people who control their lives while they're on the internet, and kids not having the real world experiences they should have, not knowing how to connect with other people irl, not feeling comfortable leaving the house because of the horror story lies their parents told them to make them ok with the surveillance they were inflicting on their kids. Kids these days are growing up in the fucking panopticon when they should be out in the woods playing with knives or stealing cigarettes from their older sibling and going out to an empty parking lot to smoke them or whatever and that shit is sticking with them into adulthood. Things that were "tee hee we could get in trouble isn't this so fun and daring" in the 1990s and 2000s have become in the 2010s and 2020s things that are "If I do that without texting my parents some sort of lie to excuse where my location is my parent's car will pull up and I will get grounded for the next two weeks."

Like even when I was 19 I had a 16 year old friend who would volunteer their time at a food shelf and that's how we knew each other. We would talk about dungeons and dragons together, and the game store was 4 blocks from the food shelf. One day we left the food shelf earlier than they had told their parents they would and they got punished for that. We were literally just going to look at dungeons and dragons miniatures and dice, which was self evident if you could see where we started and how far we walked and where too. I have to assume that this isn't uncommon. It's wrong, but it's not uncommon.

[j-graysonlibrary]

Fort Heaven Chapter 33

Title: Fort Heaven

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 69K

Genres: Suspense, investigative, drama, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Some call it a hoax. Others claim it’s a cult. But, to Evon and his friend Yasmine, two online journalists, Fort Heaven is the subject of their latest story. Along for the assignment is cameraman and not-so-secret crush of Evon’s: Russet. With a drunken, murky night in their recent history, things are especially tense between them but, of course, personal matters take a backseat when the interviews start. The trio speaks to ex-members of Fort Heaven and, while some of the accounts are shocking, the job remains just that: A job. That is until one of the women they interviewed, along with her daughter, goes missing. It soon becomes clear that not only is Fort Heaven a real threat but Evon and his friends are being watched. And what started as a simple cash-grab article is now a matter of life and death.

Full chapter 33 under the cut

Chapter 33

The following weeks were chaotic for everyone but, at the end of the month, they were all able to say that they were okay. It was far more than any of them—especially those who had been imprisoned—could have hoped. The police had their investigation underway and, even though it seemed that Simon and Seth were nowhere to be seen—that they had taken a few other members in.

It wasn’t anything any of them wanted on their mind though.

Trinity kept up to date on the events but kept them to herself. If they asked then she would tell them but she knew they all had plenty to worry about without the stress of that hanging over them. It was the least she felt she could do after their ordeal.

In a similar fashion, Evon and Yasmine’s boss gave them plenty of leeway when he learned about what had happened. He even gave them an extension on the assignment and paid them an impressive chunk of cash in advance. While it could have been a case of him feeling guilty or sympathetic it could have also just been his way of encouraging them to focus on their experiences which, everyone knew, would end up being worth money.

At this point, they had no choice but to record their personal experience along with the footage they already had. That and whatever it was Willow had been able to record.

Many afternoons were spent in a room—usually Jackson’s—and they would take notes and discuss how the documentary was going to play out. A few interviews were also filmed while they were still in the hospital including some short ones with the police.

The only ones uncomfortable with the idea of all of it being made public were Nichole and Jackson. Even if both of them had been aware of the original plans of the journalists, they were surprised to learn that they still wanted to go through with it after everything.

Russet had to become more accustomed to using his non-dominate hand for everything. Every once in a while, Evon would catch him looking down at his missing fingers with a blank expression and he would gently place a hand on him. He didn’t have to say anything to get his point across.

There was a look all of them had. One that was full of words and emotion and never needed a response. It was a mutual understanding and almost like a touch of compassion… It was something the six of them would always have.

“We should get tattoos to cover the brands.” Yasmine mentioned in a sort of off-handed way one evening as they continued to iron out the details of the documentary.

Everyone looked over at her as they mutually thought the idea over. Evon nodded and started to smile. “That’s a pretty good idea…”

“Yeah, I know,” she responded with a laugh that almost sounded like normal. That had been happening more and more lately.

“Matching ones?” Russet questioned with a raised brow. He definitely already had objections about it judging by the tone in his voice.

“Obviously,” Nichole answered in Yasmine’s stead.

“I don’t know about needles…” Jackson mumbled.

“Well you wouldn’t have to get one if you didn’t want to,” Yasmine said and nudged his arm.

“But if everyone is matching then I’ll feel left out.” He frowned.

“I know a tattoo artist with a light hand,” Willow spoke up, “You’ll hardly feel anything.”

Jackson smiled over at her sheepishly.

“So what do we get?” Russet asked once a silence had broken the conversation.

Evon glanced over, honestly surprised that he seemed to be going along with it so easily.

“Hmmm…” Yasmine hummed and pressed her lips tight. “What’s something we all like?”

Everyone looked at each other in turn and it was clear no one had any ideas.

“I guess we’ll have to think about it,” Evon said and gave a small laugh.

***

The weather was warm, sunny, and a bit dry. Crowds of people weaved in and out of each other as film critics and screening audience members moved from one area of the festival to the next. The group of six didn’t have to go far from where their film was showing but there was a lot of press they had to deal with coming by.

Jackson was, as expected, the least comfortable given the situation but he was well protected by Yasmine. She, Evon, and Willow were at the forefront while Russet and Nichole made something of a wall around Jackson to help him out.

Since the debut of the film, things had been drastically different. Eyes were on them constantly and the news circlets were buzzing with the information the documentary revealed and the arrests of Simon and Seth only heightened the frenzy.

Most of the time the questions the group received were tasteful but, every once in a while, they would get something wildly inappropriate. Yasmine or Willow usually handled those and the reporters quickly learned where the line was.

All in all, it seemed that, because of them, Fort Heaven had finally met its end. Compounds and camps across the country were being discovered and raided and old victims of the cult were coming out of the shadows to share their stories.

“How do you feel knowing you’ve started a revolution of sorts?” A journalist asked them collectively between screenings as they stood outside and greeted people.

“I think it was a long time coming and would have happened with or without us,” Russet answered.

“Well it certainly wouldn’t have happened in such a grandiose manner,” the man continued on, “Now I hear this started out as simply a blog article?”

Evon took the question and gave a much more simplified story of how things escalated. It was something almost everyone had asked but, of course, if he said too much it would spoil the film.

“What do you say to the critics who claim it is all a hoax or is exaggerated?”

“Well everyone is entitled to their own opinion…however,” Willow said with a long pause, “there is nothing but fact in this. It’s impossible to have an opinion that it isn’t real.”

The reporter gave her an uneasy look—like he wanted to argue but had suddenly become too nervous to.

“I…I suppose so. Is there anything that you hope comes from this?”

“Just what has already happened, honestly,” Yasmine said. “The church has crumbled and people have been saved. It’s more than we can ask for.”

“It has caused quite the commotion and it hasn’t even hit major theaters yet,” the reporter agreed. “Do you hope to win any awards this coming season?”

“I—we really don’t care about that aspect of it.” Evon glanced to the side. The concept of fame from the project was a complicated one for him and for Yasmine too he was sure.

It was technically what they started the project with the intention of in a way but, now that they had been through what they had, the idea was a bit uncomfortable. The reason they decided to make it a documentary was because they all collectively felt they had a rare opportunity to show the world the truth about something that was completely shrouded in darkness.

“Half of the proceeds are going to the victims,” Nichole, surprisingly, spoke up. Usually she and Jackson kept silent throughout interviews since they had little to do with the actual making of the film and simply appeared in it. People had tried to question them but normally they would deflect it to one of the others.

“Wow,” the man spoke with wide eyes, “That’s wonderful.”

She smiled at him. “It’s in honor of my mother.”

The Cindy Project had earned a lot of money already and many of the first wave of victims were helped because of it. Mostly Nichole and Willow oversaw the business on that end.

A few more interviews were had before the next screening began. The audience settled in and it was time again for them to stand before the screen and introduce themselves and the film. With a quick look between each other, Evon started them off.

“Good evening everyone and thank you for coming. I know that some of you have probably heard about the news stories on Fort Heaven these days and you may even be aware of what you’re about to watch. For those of you who aren’t familiar, this started as a small article for the website Yasmine and I worked for.

We ended up diving down an unexpectedly deep rabbit hole, however, and we almost didn’t come back. Even worse, we dragged people who weren’t already involved down with us and changed their lives forever. It’s simultaneously the best and worst thing we’ve ever done and it’s funny how that works.

Now, before the film begins, I would like to say that…these people standing with me up here…Yasmine, Nichole, Willow, Jackson…and Russet…I really couldn’t have made it through with any other group of people.

I love you.”

The crowd cheered before they took their leave and sat in their designated seats in the back. When the lights dimmed, Evon had hands on his from either side—Russet and Yasmine.

It wasn’t easy to watch—never had been and probably would never be. But they sat and watched to the end each time in a bittersweet sense of accomplishment.

They’d done it—and plenty of other good things as a result—but there was still the small seed of doubt that lived in all of them: Was it worth it?

[End]

[kaeyats]

 ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ dating modern au kaeya, fluffy headcanons ! !

[ warnings: cursing (from me, not from kaeya) ]

[ reader's gender is not specified, as with most of my works. requests and imagines in my ask box are appreciated, but will take a while. :D ]

⍣ fun-filled shopping sprees, kaeya would be absolutely supportive of your choice of aesthetic. although he is the most encouraging boyfriend in the whole god damn world, he isn't afraid to give you some straightforward criticism about what looks and what doesn't look good. he has impeccable fashion taste after all. time spent on mall trips are usually split equally between the two of you, with kaeya taking just as much, sometimes even more, time trying out clothes as you.

⍣ expect this man to sling his arm over your shoulders affectionately as you walk from store to store. walks are never silent or tense, they're always filled with laughter as kaeya jokes about something in the background and you two share back-to-back teasing banter. and they're filled with affection too, of course. if he isn't holding any bags, expect to be smothered with hugs from the back. if he is carrying bags, again, expect an arm over your shoulder or his arm hooked with yours. and yes, he randomly says 'i love you' out of nowhere or just lovingly stares at you in the middle of talking, like you're the shiniest mora in the bunch.

⍣ when you two have to stop for quick snacks together, he'll absolutely order for you. most of the time he gets the order right because he's an attentive boyfriend and loves it when he can do things for you (acts of service, ehem). when he gets the order wrong, he'll secretly get disappointed at himself and feels absolutely motivated to get it right the next time. i'm pretty sure he'll be able to laugh it off with his charms, but something about it feels off. you try to reassure him that it's fine, that a small mistake wouldn't make you love him any less.

⍣ you spend HOURS inside the mall, jumping from one store to another. just entering everytime you see anything nice inside. i can absolutely see kaeya basking at aesthetic accessories, your fashion sense feels inferior whenever he chooses to purchase something. your legs are sore after all the walking, it's sore every single time you go on a mall date, but kaeya's teasing and sweet remarks keep you going. he'll treat you like a fucking angel everytime you come out of the changing room, shamelessly showering you with compliments and flirty lines in front of other people. it doesn't help that when HE comes out of the dressing room, he looks like an absolute GOD in the button-ups he keeps buying and you know for a fact that all the salespeople nearby are drooling over him.

⍣ sometimes he takes you on a ride on his motorbike in the middle of the night, especially when he notices that you're upset over something. the fresh air hits you like a refreshing hot shower does and suddenly, all the awful things in life that once bothered you were nowhere to be seen. kaeya's muscular body feels snug against yours and you can't help but hug him tightly from behind, feeling the hardness of his back against your front and the firm abs on his front. he smells like kaeya, and the thought alone calms you. he smells like home and being so close to him makes you feel safe. as you zoom through the bright city lights, you sigh contently as you feel kaeya chuckle against you. you can't hear what he's saying, but you felt happy hearing him he so happy as he makes loud noises driving through the empty streets so late.

⍣ you realize something staring at the beautiful man, kaeya is home, your home. and the absolute thrill you feel when he takes you out for rides along with the absolute warmth you feel being with the love of your life is a blessing next to no other. it's just a lovely evening, over all. the beautiful night sky and the buzzing city underneath your gaze from the mountains he took you to were.. beautiful. not as beautiful as kaeya though. kaeya whose loose ponytail is messier than usual. kaeya who is handsome no matter what he does. kaeya whose leather jacket fits him so well, it's almost unfair. kaeya who stares at the view so happily, it makes your heart soar. you hug him at that very moment, no words needed as you realize something when he kisses the top of your head, you love this man and he loves you, more than anything.

[honorhearted]

"Softer doesn't necessarily mean better," Benjamin offered. "I've met all sorts of women -- rich, poor, cruel and kind -- but the ones who are soft are typically little more than grinning puppets. I have no interest in speaking with someone who regurgitates the latest Parisian fashions, or can name a work of art, yet clearly has no capacity to say why the piece moves them." He shrugged. "Experience generates interest. Even if you lashed me within an inch of my life with that tongue of yours, I'd far rather hear you call me a jingle-brained mopus than listen to any flighty, bottle-headed socialite discuss the weather patterns -- without, of course, actually understanding said weather."

Perhaps he was being cruel. Just like Benjamin had unkindly made assumptions about Fantine, it was quite possible that he was doing the same about these women he continuously found within his orbit.

Fortunately, Fantine seemed far more taken by the charms of the ocean than his brief diversion. He found himself mirroring her smile, his eyes crinkling warmly around the edges. "Where is your hometown?" he asked. "I've always lived by the seaside...in fact, staying here is the longest I've ever been away from it. I don't have saltwater in my veins, unlike one of my best friends, but I assuredly miss the breezy air and the rare reprieve of just lazing about along the sand."

Suddenly realizing just what she had said, Benjamin's smile faded and he blinked in surprise. "Oh... You've never been to the sea? Ever?" he asked. With a sheepish little smile, he apologized, "I'm sorry...there I go again, prattling away before fully assessing the situation. Clearly, not everyone lives by water, so it's foolish to assume we all can afford such trips. But I'd be glad to take you, if...i-if you wanted? Though if you don't get sick of the ocean after sailing to America for days on end, that'll be the true testament to your fortitude."

A look of shyness graced her features, and Benjamin felt a jolt rush through him at her kind declaration.

"You would be a wonderful father."

"I certainly hope so," he murmured, his cheeks pinkening with pleasure. "I can never presume to be lucky enough -- perhaps this is all I'm meant to do in this life -- but whatever my true path, I'm trying my best to enjoy it."

Barely suppressing a snort, he agreed, "Father will have to wait. Unless he wants grandchildren out of wedlock -- which, at this point, perhaps he is willing to turn a blind eye -- he'll have no choice but to allow things to take their course."

An amiable silence fell between them, soft and warm, before Fantine pleaded for a bit of companionship. In truth, Benjamin didn't understand why she seemed so ashamed by the request. He'd always been accustomed to sleeping near others -- during boyhood, he was with his brother; in college, his dear friend, Hale; in the war, his fellow officers -- so why would he find it so strange to wish for a bit of company?

"It's not a lot to ask at all," he reassured. "I can barely sleep, if you want the honest truth, so I don't mind sitting up. It's not like I would've been asleep by now anyway." Here, he gently took her elbow, attempting to steer her toward her bed. "Get in," he encouraged. "I'll pull up a chair and wait until I know you're asleep."

Fantine's heckles finally relaxed. She wanted so much to relax and displace her baggage if only for a short moment. Her knuckles were white with how tightly she clutched it, arms aching with the weight of it. It was as if she was scared Benjamin could take it and dig through it; find aspects of her beyond what he already knew and use it to wound her further.

As they tiptoed around one another, Fantine was beginning to realise with more certainty that this man did not wish to do anything of the sort. Where her anxiety rested, Cosette became that bridge between them— common ground to which they could speak honestly.

"I know she will, I want that for her, too." It was something she would never have been able to provide Cosette alone. His interference had become a blessing in disguise; for Cosette at first, but now for Fantine. She did not comment on her supposed input in Cosette's intelligence or development... they had been apart for so long, what little Fantine had managed to provide seemed so long ago now. "I'm not a particularly good marker for knowing if you're charming a woman or not. Do not let me put you off— many women are softer than me."

Fantine listened with genuine interest, the spark of hope bringing life to long since dead eyes. Admittedly, Setauket didn't appeal to her in the slightest. In fact, it invited a familiar sense of nausea; the reason she had become as she had was because of a small, in-each-other's-pockets community. The mention of his father caused an involuntary grimace. If he was as religious a man as Benjamin said he was, then she could only imagine what he would think of a woman such as Fantine— although perhaps her moral failings would discourage the idea that there was anything between them in that way.

"The sea?" she repeated, the slightest smile touching her lips not dissimilar to childish excitement. "My hometown is not far from the sea, but... well, I never got a chance to visit."

Fantine felt a slight blush spread across her cheeks. Every now and then she caught herself hoping, only to reel it back just in case. "You would be a wonderful father." Her head nodded as she spoke, almost trying to reinforce her words. "Your love extends beyond Cosette. I can see how much you care about children and their futures. As for your father, he can continue to wait. I understand your lack of patience to some degree, now." Fantine's smile momentarily grew wider before she allowed her hands to fall to her side.

Finally, Fantine dared to glance up, vulnerability taking its opportunity as she swallowed her pride. "I need to sleep, I know... can..." the words stuck in her throat... "can you sit with me until I finally fall asleep again? I know it's a lot to ask, so I won't be offended if you decline."

[bizarrescribblez]

Selfshiptember Day 1: First Time Meeting

[me pov]

“Walking into a store that has a giant UFO displayed in the front seems kind of ironic don’t you think?” I asked staring at the display of Fry’s Electronics. The parking lot was barren; a sign of the days of shopping in person becoming a thing of the past. Only a few cars scattered and OJ’s pickup truck painted the scene, they practically looked like ants in front of the gigantic store. The only response to my question was a slight laugh from Em as we all walked into the store. I wasn’t sure of anything technical or electronic so I let Em and OJ do their thing as I walked around the slightly empty store. I’ve never been in a store like this before so I took it all in before darting to the small candy aisle.

“Whoops- sorry…” I mumbled an apology when I almost bumped into an employee. She seemed to not be too bothered by it before glancing at her co-worker and letting out a chuckle. I looked at her name tag and it said ‘Nessie’ until I tried not to focus once she faced me and gave a smug smile.

“Good luck.” Was all I heard before she walked away. It left me confused before grabbing two bags of gummy bears and going to the vacant register, bumping into Em and OJ on my way.

“You guys find what you were looking for?” I ask as I observed the small bagged up electrical items in their cart. “It doesn’t look like a lot..”

“Oh this kinda sweaty looking guy who checked us out has the rest. Said we couldn’t be able to install it ourselves so he’s coming by later.” Emerald answered before giving a mischievous face. “The stuff we bought wasn’t the only thing he was checking out though.”

Connecting the dots with Nessie’s comment now Em’s ‘joke’ made me roll my eyes. The last thing I need is a possible neckbeard wanting to ask me out.

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

“It’s true! Go buy your candy and tell me about it! We’ll be waiting for you outside!” Emerald encouraged me before I huffed and separated from the two.

Walking felt like an eternity trying to decipher or fathom who was even at the register. The neckbeard possibility wasn’t too far off, I mean I probably didn’t choose the best fashion choice today when it comes to warding off those kind of guys (in case you were wondering yes I was wearing my matching cinnamonroll tank + shorts combo and my on brand Lizzie McGuire looking shoes). I kind of avoided eye contact upon arriving at the register as I put the two bags of candy on the flat surface.

“Hi. These two please.” I said blankly before looking up and. Oh man. He was hot-

[Angel’s pov]

Oh shit. Oh fuck she ended up coming up by herself. If Nessie told her anything I swear to-

“Oh hey Um- welcome to Fry’s…” I awkwardly made the obligatory start to her. It’s not everyday you get broken up with and feeling like love is dead for a week straight.. then being met with possibly the light of your life. But today was that day, as crazy as that sounded. I mean- two folks walking in vaguely implying ufo hunting was already crazy but this was the cherry on top. She was beautiful. I’m not sure who the silly rabbit thing was on her clothes but that just added to the cuteness. There was a slight couple seconds of silence before she looked red.

[me pov]

OH NOOOO HES HOT. I couldn’t even hide my red face.

“Oh man - summer am I right?” I said in an attempt to make it less obvious I was red over him, although in hindsight I’m sure it didn’t help at all.

“Oh I get you, it kinda slips in even with the air conditioning..” He added on. He quickly looked to see the candy before frantically scanning them. “Okay that’s gonna be..6.98” He said, talking kind of slower as if he didn’t want the conversation to end. I didn’t want it to either. I grabbed a $5 from my pocket before realization hit.

I needed two more dollars..

I started patting my pockets which was a habit when I was forgetting something as I noted he was focusing on this action.

“..I’m sorry can you take one of those off, I can only get one. I think I left my bag in the truck..” I apologized kind of mentally hitting myself in the head as to why I left my bag in the truck in an empty parking lot where anybody can break in and take it.

“Oh hey..don’t worry about it. I’ll just-“ He took both candy bags and attempted to slip them both in the shopping bag until he noticed an older man from afar looking at him before placing just one candy bag in the plastic bag. “Sorry..”

“Hey it’s fine, I appreciate the though-“ I said before seeing his name tag.

Angel… fitting for the sweet act he was going to do.

“….thank you for almost letting me steal from your job.” A chuckle escaped his lips as I handed him the $5. Change was given as I took it from his slightly sweaty hand. Something that could be seen as gross, was a sign I was leaving a good impression on him. “I’ll see you around I hope.” Knowing he’d come by to Haywood in a little while.

“I hope so- I mean! Yeah I hope to see you around too!” Angel said awkwardly. I then made my way outside hoping I wasn’t keeping OJ and Em outside for long.

[me pov]

Waiting for Angel felt like an eternity. The only thing keeping me grounded from thinking about him was the looming fear of an extra terrestrial attacking at any second and Emerald slumped on the porch asking me a million questions about him. However, before I could attempt to answer any of them, a van with ‘Fry’s Tech Team’ written on the side pulled up to the front of the farmhouse.

“There’s your loverboy~” Em teased as I shook my head in reply. The three of us gathered by the van as he came out, let out a yawn and greeted us.

“Sup.”

An opening of the van’s back doors and a scream from him (immediately calmed by OJ) later Em was off to their own devices as me, him and OJ were left. Overhearing their conversation, a few things were noticed.

A name of a woman going by “Rebecca Diaz”.

Rebecca Diaz is not only a model but an actress. Is going to be on the CW.

And she’s Angel’s ex (she dumped him).

Dread filled my entire body as I started realizing ‘hey maybe you were overthinking everything at the store? maybe he really was hot from the summer heat?’. I slumped a bit before feeling a tap on my shoulder, the dread grew deeper as Angel was in my sights.

“Hey, I think I owe you something.” He grinned before handing me the second bag of gummy bears.

“Wh- how?” I asked. Although I was moreso curious why he cared about something so small than how he got them.

“I had Nessie distract our boss while I snuck them into the van.” He gave a playful wink which didn’t help the dread I felt a minute prior. I held the bag close as my smile grew.

“….you didn’t have to do that. I’ll pay you back- here I have the change you gave me-“ I used my free hand to reach for my pocket as he waved his hands in objection.

“Hey- it’s okay you don’t have to pay me it’s just four dollars it’s okay.” Angel objected before pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow. “Although I wouldn’t mind being repaid with a couple gummy bears…”

Said proposal made an unexpected chuckle escape from me as I lightly punched his shoulder. Noting the sudden playful smile on his face.

“I accept the gummy bear payment. I’ll make sure to save you half after you- do what you gotta do out here.” We both stood smiling for what felt like a minute before OJ started to guide him where to put up the cameras.

“HEY!” Angel shouted from a couple feet away. “I DIDN’T GET YOUR NAME!”

Another chuckle escaped. “I’M MIA!” I shouted back humoring him. A second of silence for him to process hit.

“COOL! .. JUST LIKE THE MOVIE!” The joke made me playfully roll me eyes. “I’M ANGEL!”

“I KNOW I SAW YOUR NAME TAG EARLIER.” I could hear him laugh from a longer distance as I waved to him before sitting back on the porch.

Even if this ufo is something to possibly be feared of, I gotta thank whatever it is for this.

WOO BOY. First finished fic of selfshiptember.. only 29 to go X]!! Hopefully y’all liked it im really rusty with my writing but this month will be like a fun exercise for me! THANKING THE OP OF THE PROMPT LIST @strawberry--bat for coming up with this fun month long list I’m so excited to do the other ones …

Tag List:

(If anybody wants to be tagged let me know :))) @jils-things @pinkdinkydoon @captainscyarika

[comfortwriting]

Call Out My Name - F.W.

Fred Weasley X Reader imagine inspired by the song ‘Call Out My Name’ by The Weeknd.

Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: Your Feedback will be greatly appreciated! 

About: Fred is constantly in a ‘on and off’ toxic relationship and he uses the reader when he is lonely, overtime she falls in love with him but because she isn’t Fred’s girl - she has no choice but to walk away.

Themes: Heartbreak, unrequited love, sadness, longing.

Warnings: indication of smut, raw feelings of worthlessness, depression and anger.

Staring out of the train window trying to think of something to doodle in your notebook you couldn’t help but feel over the moon that you were going home for the summer, you had never felt like this before and you hated that you did - but after years of being strung along by someone and not being able to stay away from them - this feeling was bittersweet, hell, everything you had gone through was now nothing but bittersweet memories you just wanted to forget, almost like it never happened.

You fell in love with Fred slowly but the more time you spent with him you fell head over heels for him. This whole fiasco - whatever it was you had with Fred started three years ago, your first time spending the summer at The Burrow. Fred’s on and off girlfriend split up with him for the first time, Fred became withdrawn, not wanting to take part in his usual pranks or plan any new inventions with his brother George. At first, you believed that Fred wanted you around because he valued your friendship (a budding romance) and because you made him happy, but overtime you realised that this wasn’t the case at all - unfortunately you were just a stepping stone for him, someone to use when he couldn’t get what he wanted from the ‘love of his life’. 

You put your head in your hands and sighed deeply, the tears slowly pricking at your eyes, slouching in your seat you covered your house scarf (the one that Fred bought you) over your eyes, the memories flashing back to you like they happened yesterday.

We found each other I helped you out of a broken place You gave me comfort But falling for you was my mistake

Fred sat in his bed, his eyes red and puffy from all of the crying “I don’t know what to do, she doesn’t want me anymore” seeing him in such a state made your heartache, you had never seen him like this before - you were used to him bouncing around, always laughing and getting up to no good, not crying in bed too sad to be himself.

You sat on his bed and stroked his short hair that had been cut a few weeks ago “It’s going to be okay” you smiled at him softly “I know it might be too much to ask but why don’t we go for a walk? Get away from all the noise in this house, just this once.” you encouraged him.  

Fred contemplated your offer for a moment and then nodded “I can do that” he smiled, slowly getting out of bed. What started off as ‘just this once’ turned into routine - you and Fred going for stupidly long walks every morning you were at the burrow. 

Remembering the first time your hands brushed up against one another used to make the butterflies in your stomach soar but now all it does is hurt worse than before - rain now pattering down on the window.

Within months you and Fred did everything together, morning walks, quidditch in the afternoon basking in the warmth and orange glow of the sun, and then in the evenings you two would sneak downstairs whilst everyone lay asleep in bed.

“Hey Y/N” Fred whispered through the crack in the door, trying not to wake everyone up “fancy popping on one of those muggle horror movies you keep telling dad about?” 

You turned over, the landing light shining in your eyes and smirked at Fred, mirroring him “go on then.” 

Clutching your chest you could feel the pain of this memory hit you like a tonne of bricks, taking deep breaths you tried so hard to bring yourself back into the present moment... on the way home... leaving Hogwarts...but it didn’t work, like a leaf in the wind you were pushed back in relieving what you just wanted to forget.

The old and scratchy patchwork blanket sat over you and Fred, out of the corner of your eye you caught Fred glancing at you and smiling to himself. Turning to face him you asked what was so funny “nothing” he replied, yet he leaned in closer, his nose almost touching yours. Giving in, the two of you shared your first kiss and you could’ve sworn you felt sparks igniting within you. 

You brushed your fingers over your soft lonely lips reminiscing more of the memories that popped into your head as if they were being played on film. 

A few evenings later you and Fred were on the same sofa, covered by the same scratchy old patchwork blanket in the dead of night, yet this time instead this kiss lead to something much more, instead of sparks simply just igniting, burst into the biggest and most beautiful firework as you and Fred shared such an intimate moment together.

George had to admit that although he felt left out, he couldn’t deny how much happier Fred became when you were around - he started being himself again; pranking Ron and annoying Percy like it was going out of fashion.

But you had no idea that whatever you had with Fred would turn into the most intense rollercoaster ride you had ever been on.

I put you on top, I put you on top I claimed you so proud and openly

For the first time in your life you put another person before you and you deemed such an act ‘worth it’ at the time because you made mistakes out of your pure love for Fred, but you realised all you were doing was burning yourself out to keep Fred alight. Instead of getting perfect grades, you found yourself in enough detentions for everyone in your house.

In your mind Fred was yours, your boyfriend and he made you feel on top of the world and all you wanted to do was share your feelings and relationship to the world. Every Saturday morning you would be sat waiting at the Quidditch pitch to cheer on Fred, regardless whether it was a match or just practice.

You would write to your family and friends, telling them all about the soft haired troublemaker who swept you off your feet. “Looks like you’ve got another letter” George mentioned one morning over breakfast, your owl swooping up ahead delivering a reply. 

You smiled widely and nodded “Of course I do!” you giggled “My parents can’t wait to meet Fred this Christmas!”

George’s face dropped at your excitement, he cleared his throat awkwardly “I’m really sorry Y/N but did Fred tell you?” he asked, giving you a deep look of sympathy. 

You scowled and shook your head wondering what would get in the way of your perfect plans “tell me what?” 

George stayed silent for a moment but he tried his best to let you down gently “He’s back in contact with his ex, they’re working things out.”

And when times were rough, when times were rough I made sure I held you close to me

And for the second time, Fred came crying into your arms looking like he had been torn apart “She doesn’t think it’s going to work out, she said that it’s not the right time” you held him in your arms, cuddling on the sofa in the common room, rubbing his back with one hand and stroking his now long shoulder length hair with the other, you reassured him. 

“It’s going to be okay Freddie, you got yourself back on track last time and you’re capable of going it again sweetheart” you reminded him “you’ve got me and George, remember.” 

Within the months that came after, you two were inseparable once again, going to Hogsmeade on the weekends raiding Honeydukes and sharing a butterbeer or two in the Three Broomsticks but as always and like George predicted, once Fred’s girl came back into the picture, he dropped you again. 

You managed to break from your flashbacks for a moment, removing the scarf from your face. Checking your watch you had another hour or so until you would be arriving at Kings Cross Station, you slumped back down in your seat and doodled broken hearts and tears onto your open love letters to Fred, now hidden in your notebook.

So call out my name (call out my name) Call out my name when I kiss you so gently I want you to stay (I want you to stay) I want you to stay, even though you don't want me

“Well from the sounds of things you’re not in a serious relationship” you mentioned to Fred, taking off your muddy robes. George shook his head at you almost telling you off but you were both getting frustrated, the only difference is that you didn’t want to keep quiet anymore. 

“Not yet but I’m waiting for her” Fred said eagerly removing his robes too, George could feel the tension in the air and went to the common room.

“So what about us?” you asked bravely, your heart begging to hear what it wanted most. 

Allowing the last of your confidence that Fred had wiped away overtime, you walked towards him and cupped his face, kissing him softly, trying to convince him that you were the one worth waiting for but no matter what, deep down in your heart you knew Fred was thinking about her.

Fred kissed back and chuckled “us?” he flashed you a confused look “we’re the same as we’ve ever been, as we’ll always be” you felt crushed, this wasn’t the answer you were hoping for (and you now owed George all of your exploding bonbons) but you accepted your fate and left to find George so you could cry in his arms. 

“He never truly wanted me, did he?” You asked George, tears running down your cheeks. 

George shook his head “It’s always been about her Y/N, I’m sorry” you hugged George and cried into his chest whilst he held you.

“why can’t I be Fred’s girl?” 

Torturing yourself beyond repair you couldn’t stay away from Fred, no matter how hard you tried. You still found yourself supporting him at Quidditch, helping him study, you even engaged in conversation with him about his girl, how amazing she was and how happy she made him. You knew if he had the chance Fred would transform you into her if a single project came down to it.

Girl, why can't you wait? (Why can't you wait, baby?) Girl, why can't you wait 'til I fall out of love? Won't you call out my name? (Call out my name) Girl, call out my name, and I'll be on my way

Clutching your date and dancing lazily to the music you stared at Fred having the time of his life with the girl of his dreams on his arm, beaming up at him. You hoped this ball and your date would help you find a new spark and create new fireworks yet with every opportunity to do so all you did was wish for Fred, stare at him and act as if he were to realise you were the one with any coming moment - but it didn’t happen yet, it would never happen. You kept wishing over and over in your head for Fred to turn around, meet your gaze and to become blinded by your beauty when you had another admirer trying to break down your cold persona. 

I said I didn't feel nothing baby, but I lied I almost cut a piece of myself for your life Guess I was just another pit stop 'Til you made up your mind You just wasted my time

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Fred asked, taking a bite out of his toast “Mum and dad are really keen to meet her and she’s never been able to visit over the summer before and with everyone else there we just wouldn’t have the room.”

The two of you continued to walk towards the castle, George following not far behind.

Fred was now inviting his girlfriend to stay with him at the burrow this summer, something you had always done up until this very moment - this was the moment you realised that everything had been a lie, Fred never cared, he never loved you, he had just used you each and every time the love of his life got bored, only to drop you as soon as she wanted him back. 

“Yeah it’s fine, I understand completely” you lied, feeling anger, despair and insecure like you had never before “I’ll just see you at the shop once the ball gets rolling.” Earlier in the year Fred offered you a job to help out with him and George at the shop, placing your own career plan at the ministry on hold.

“Oh bugger” Fred stopped his tracks looking a bit stressed “that's another thing i forgot to mention, we won’t be needing you to help out anymore as-”

“she’s helping out instead” you cut Fred off, finally reaching your breaking point you ran away from Fred and went to your dorm, packing your trunk. 

You're on top, I put you on top I claimed you so proud and openly, babe And when times were rough, when times were rough I made sure I held you close to me

“Are you seriously running back to him after what he did?” 

“He isn’t like that! you don’t understand, you can’t judge him - you don’t even know him!”

So call out my name (call out my name, baby) So call out my name when I kiss you So gently, I want you to stay (I want you to stay) I want you to stay even though you don't want me Girl, why can't you wait? (Girl, why can't you wait 'til I) Girl, why can't you wait 'til I fall out of loving? Babe, call out my name (say call out my name, baby) Girl, call out my name, and I'll be on my way, girl I'll be on my

Jolting awake the train came to a stop, you had finally arrived at the station. Taking a deep breath you picked up your trunk and notebook, getting off the train your scarf slipped off but you were too busy trying to spot your parents to notice. This was it, no more Hogwarts, you didn’t want to look back.

Feeling faint you ran into the toilets, throwing up the last of your pumpkin juice from the ride home, you stared at yourself in the mirror, washing your hands and splashing your face.

“Why can’t I be Fred’s girl?” You asked yourself.

On my way, all the way On my way, all the way, ooh On my way, on my way, on my way On my way, on my way, on my way (On my)

Reaching the exit of the station you spotted The Weasleys, welcoming Fred’s new girlfriend into a tight hug with delighted expressions on their faces. You looked to George and he gave a sad smile, he wanted to say goodbye but even that would be too painful for you to handle; after all, you weren’t just losing Fred, you were losing George, Molly and the rest of the family you loved so much.

Before you could turn around and continue to look for your family, Fred noticed you, he stopped for a moment and waved, holding your scarf up in his hands and shaking it. 

You wanted more than anything to run to Fred and collect it but instead you didn’t wave back or smile, you shook your head and spun on your heel, acting as if he were never there at all. 

[lifeofkaze]

Hi love!

Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?

I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.

Take care darling,

-A

Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.

This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3

***

Favourites

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.800

As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.

“You want me to do what?”

Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”

Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.

He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.

So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.

A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”

Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.

He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.

 *

The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.

He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.

“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.

“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”

He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”

It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”

You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.

“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “

You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”

“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?

He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.

“Where do you want to start?”

You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.

Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.

Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.

But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.

Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.

“Did you do these yourself?”

He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”

You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”

Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”

Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.

“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”

All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.

“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”

You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.

He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”

The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.

“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.  

You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.

Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.

“So, tell me more about it.”

Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.

You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.

Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.

His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.

Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.

Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.

Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.

You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.

Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”

It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.

Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”

He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.

But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.

*

Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.

Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.

He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.

For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.

Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.

A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.

A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:

It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.

He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.

Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that  had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.

This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.

  Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes

[sanzoumon]

FREE RICKORTY+ PROMPTS!:

Seriously, if you wanna write any of these just go for it and then let me know. Spoilers for S5E10. Some are more gen but could also be shippy, smut encouraged but optional. All of these are definitely bottom!Morty btw. Others are straight up smut.

Non-rickorty prompts (really just Morty x Summer) are are the bottom.

PROMPTS:

Trapped on what remains of the Citadel, Rick confesses that he recently realized he’s in love with Morty and that he wants to be by Morty’s side forever - in whatever way Morty wants (as in be it romantic, familial, platonic, whatever, it’s Morty’s choice). How does Morty feel and what will he decide?

After the whole Planetina thing Morty gets much needed comfort from Beth. Tho he feels better after that, Morty feels the overwhelming need to be with Rick. As it happens, after that whole ordeal with Daphne, Rick feels an overwhelming need to be with Morty. Bedsharing and comfort ensue.

Morty notices that ever since the Citadel was destroyed, Rick’s been way more physically affectionate. Little touches, petting his hair, hugging, casually rubbing soothing circles on him when they relax, wanting to cuddle, affectionate kisses, handholding, even nuzzling him. Morty likes it. A LOT.

In a rare moment of relaxation, Rick and Morty snuggling up together, they share a kiss. Both are shocked but then immediately begin an intense make-out session.

Rick wants to make up for his prior mistreatment of Morty. Morty asks for something be never expected: A kiss. And Morty means a full on kiss - tongue included. Who is Rick to deny him?

Rick and Morty have a rather intense incest kink. Lots of dirty talk.

Morty finds out that Rick has feelings for him. Rick freaks out, feels like a piece of shit, and tries to run away. Morty stops him, clings to him, begs Rick to calm down and to not leave him. Rick is practically hysterical, Morty gets him to shut up and calm down the only way he can - a kiss.

Morty preys on Rick’s guilt for having mistreated Morty in the past by guilting him into having sex. Morty knows Rick doesn’t want it, but he’ll do anything Morty wants. Morty feels like shit doing this but he can’t get about of how good Rick feels inside him.

Morty royally screws up on an adventure, almost getting himself killed, and Rick opts for a good ol fashioned punishment - a bare bottom spanking. Aftercare happens because Rick was terrified for Morty and needs him to understand this is why he spanked him.

Rick suffers from Domdrop after a really emotionally intense session with Morty. Morty provides Rick with the aftercare he needs.

The family finds out about Rick and Morty’s relationship. Shocking everyone, it’s Beth who attacks Rick square in a blind rage. The whole time Morty is begging her to stop hurting Rick, who doesn’t even try to defend himself, and it’s Jerry and Summer who have to hold her back so she’ll actually listen to Morty.

Rick and Morty get married at the alien equivalent of Las Vegas. Summer was a witness and recorded the whole thing.

In another dimension it’s considered a rite of passage for a boy to have sex with the household patriarch when he turns 14. Morty never felt the need to do that but then Rick comes along and says that’s because Jerry wasn’t man enough to do it, so Rick takes it upon himself to do so.

Morty is attracted to Rick specifically because Rick is a dirty old man.

On the Citadel, some Morty’s are bred purely to be sex slaves for Rick’s. Bred to be more compliant, submissive, and who love Rick’s unconditionally no matter how badly they mistreat them.

Rick and Morty have an emotionally incestuous relationship. Basically: “when a parent or caregiver relies on a child for the support that an adult partner would usually provide. They may also treat the child like a romantic partner.”

Morty deliberately gets himself into trouble on adventures because Rick will, out of worry and adrenaline pumping through him, fuck Morty afterward like an animal. Like a twisted version of “glad to be alive sex”.

Rick and Morty have to hide in a tight fitting enclosed space while facing each other. Awkward boners and grinding / dry humping ensue.

Omegavese. Morty goes into heat and Rick knocks him up. It wouldn’t be so bad if Rick wasn’t seriously turned on by Morty being pregnant with his baby.

Omegaverse. Unclaimed Omega’s have it rough and are constant targets for harassment. One day Morty gets assaulted by some Alpha’s at school and before they’re able to violate and claim him, Rick shows up and makes them wish they were never born. Morty knew right then that Rick was his Alpha and begs for Rick to claim him.

Rookie Cop Rick x Cop Morty. Rick likes how chubby Morty is.

Toxic Rick x Toxic Morty. They’re both made up of the irrational attachments they have for each other. Without their healthier selves to reign them in they can’t keep their hands off each other. Basically, in between all the science, Toxic Rick fucks Toxic Morty and Toxic Morty can’t get enough of just how much Rick loves him.

Evil Rick x Evil Morty. Sometimes Morty lets Rick have control of himself again just so Rick will rape him like he used to before Morty took control.

Morty’s fantasy is for Rick to fuck him against his will while Morty cries and begs Rick to stop. Rick can’t deny Morty his perverted fantasy.

Rick goes on a rampage to save Morty and, by the time all is said and done, Rick is mildly wounded and is practically drenched in the blood of his enemy. And it’s the hottest thing Morty has ever seen in his life. Morty wants Rick to fuck him right then and there, raw and primal, using the blood as lube.

Morty’s just so small and cute. Rick loves it a little too much.

Rick loves to degrade and humiliate Morty in bed. Morty loves it too.

Breeding kink. They like to pretend Morty can actually get pregnant when they have sex.

OTHER:

Summer asks Rick to shrink her giant space incest baby down to normal baby size. Everyone tries to talk her out of it because she’s young and not ready to raise a baby, but she knows she can’t live without him and that she wants this.

Morty x Summer. It may have been under very weird circumstances but fact is they have a baby together. Summer says she doesn’t expect anything from Morty and is cool with it, but Morty wants to be involved. Raising a kid together can make you feel things you never expected to feel.

Morty x Summer. Morty liked attractive redheads and Summer is no exception.

Morty x Summer. After everything they’ve seen and done, sex with each other to relieve stress isn’t that noteworthy.

Morty x Summer. Summer is humiliated that she actually enjoys being fucked by her little brother. Worse yet, Morty knows it and taunts her with it while fucking her. Worst of all, him doing that makes it even better for her.

Morty x Summer. Set during the time Rick was in prison. They’re always fighting lately, sometimes to the point of physical aggression. One thing leads to another.

Morty & Summer. After the whole Morty Jr. thing, Morty isn’t sure he wants to be a dad again. But Summer is worn ragged with school, taking care of their recently-shrunk-to-normal-size space baby, and their family giving her crap for raising him instead of leaving him in space. And, well, he is responsible for the kid existing in the first place. Basically they raise their baby together.

Summer sees Morty getting picked on at school and she ends up beating up his bully half to death.

Morty x Summer. Something happens and they end up bound together face to face with Morty’s head buried in Summer’s boobs. They’re so big and soft that he gets aroused in spite of himself. Summer feels it, insults him like expected, but tells him just to hurry up and get rid of it by grinding against her thigh so they can start pretending this whole thing never happened sooner.

————

And that’s all I got for now, folks! I know it’s a long list and it’s all over the place but I have so many ideas in my head and the S5 finale just sent my imagination into overdrive.

So please, if you’re a writer, I hope these prompts inspire you. Let me know if you write anything, please!

[citrina-posts]

Avatar: Cultural Appreciation or Appropriation?

I love Avatar: the Last Airbender. Obviously I do, because I run a fan blog on it. But make no mistake: it is a show built upon cultural appropriation. And you know what? For the longest time, as an Asian-American kid, I never saw it that way.

There are plenty of reasons why I never realized this as a kid, but I’ve narrowed it down to a few reasons. One is that I was desperate to watch a show with characters that looked like me in it that wasn’t anime (nothing wrong with anime, it’s just not my thing). Another is that I am East Asian (I have Taiwanese and Korean ancestry) and in general, despite being the outward “bad guys”, the East Asian cultural aspects of Avatar are respected far more than South Asian, Middle Eastern, and other influences. A third is that it’s easy to dismiss the negative parts of a show you really like, so I kind of ignored the issue for a while. I’m going to explain my own perspective on these reasons, and why I think we need to have a nuanced discussion about it. This is pretty long, so if you want to keep reading, it’s under the cut.

Obviously, the leadership behind ATLA was mostly white. We all know the co-creators Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino (colloquially known as Bryke) are white. So were most of the other episodic directors and writers, like Aaron Ehasz, Lauren Montgomery, and Joaquim Dos Santos. This does not mean they were unable to treat Asian cultures with respect, and I honestly do believe that they tried their best! But it does mean they have certain blinders, certain perceptions of what is interesting and enjoyable to watch. Avatar was applauded in its time for being based mostly on Asian and Native American cultures, but one has to wonder: how much of that choice was based on actual respect for these people, and how much was based on what they considered to be “interesting”, “quirky”, or “exotic”?

The aesthetic of the show, with its bending styles based on various martial arts forms, written language all in Chinese text, and characters all decked out in the latest Han dynasty fashions, is obviously directly derivative of Asian cultures. Fine. That’s great! They hired real martial artists to copy the bending styles accurately, had an actual Chinese calligrapher do all the lettering, and clearly did their research on what clothing, hair, and makeup looked like. The animation studios were in South Korea, so Korean animators were the ones who did the work. Overall, this is looking more like appreciation for a beautiful culture, and that’s exactly what we want in a rapidly diversifying world of media.

But there’s always going to be some cherry-picking, because it’s inevitable. What’s easy to animate, what appeals to modern American audiences, and what is practical for the world all come to mind as reasons. It’s just that… they kinda lump cultures together weirdly. Song from Book 2 (that girl whose ostrich-horse Zuko steals) wears a hanbok, a traditionally Korean outfit. It’s immediately recognizable as a hanbok, and these dresses are exclusive to Korea. Are we meant to assume that this little corner of the mostly Chinese Earth Kingdom is Korea? Because otherwise, it’s just treated as another little corner of the Earth Kingdom. Korea isn’t part of China. It’s its own country with its own culture, history, and language. Other aspects of Korean culture are ignored, possibly because there wasn’t time for it, but also probably because the creators thought the hanbok was cute and therefore they could just stick it in somewhere. But this is a pretty minor issue in the grand scheme of things (super minor, compared to some other things which I will discuss later on).

It’s not the lack of research that’s the issue. It’s not even the lack of consideration. But any Asian-American can tell you: it’s all too easy for the Asian kids to get lumped together, to become pan-Asian. To become the equivalent of the Earth Kingdom, a mass of Asians without specific borders or national identities. It’s just sort of uncomfortable for someone with that experience to watch a show that does that and then gets praised for being so sensitive about it. I don’t want you to think I’m from China or Vietnam or Japan; not because there’s anything wrong with them, but because I’m not! How would a French person like to be called British? It would really piss them off. Yet this happens all the time to Asian-Americans and we are expected to go along with it. And… we kind of do, because we’ve been taught to.

1. Growing Up Asian-American

I grew up in the early to mid-2000s, the era of High School Musical and Hannah Montana and iCarly, the era of Spongebob and The Amazing World of Gumball and Fairly Odd Parents. So I didn’t really see a ton of Asian characters onscreen in popular shows (not anime) that I could talk about with my white friends at school. One exception I recall was London from Suite Life, who was hardly a role model and was mostly played up for laughs more than actual nuance. Shows for adults weren’t exactly up to par back then either, with characters like the painfully stereotypical Raj from Big Bang Theory being one of the era that comes to mind.

So I was so grateful, so happy, to see characters that looked like me in Avatar when I first watched it. Look! I could dress up as Azula for Halloween and not Mulan for the third time! Nice! I didn’t question it. These were Asian characters who actually looked Asian and did cool stuff like shoot fireballs and throw knives and were allowed to have depth and character development. This was the first reason why I never questioned this cultural appropriation. I was simply happy to get any representation at all. This is not the same for others, though.

2. My Own Biases

Obviously, one can only truly speak for what they experience in their own life. I am East Asian and that is arguably the only culture that is treated with great depth in Avatar.

I don’t speak for South Asians, but I’ve certainly seen many people criticize Guru Pathik, the only character who is explicitly South Asian (and rightly so. He’s a stereotype played up for laughs and the whole thing with chakras is in my opinion one of the biggest plotholes in the show). They’ve also discussed how Avatar: The Last Airbender lifts heavily from Hinduism (with chakras, the word Avatar itself, and the Eye of Shiva used by Combustion Man to blow things up). Others have expressed how they feel the sandbenders, who are portrayed as immoral thieves who deviously kidnap Appa for money, are a direct insult to Middle Eastern and North African cultures. People have noted that it makes no sense that a culture based on Inuit and other Native groups like the Water Tribe would become industrialized as they did in the North & South comics, since these are people that historically (and in modern day!) opposed extreme industrialization. The Air Nomads, based on the Tibetan people, are weirdly homogeneous in their Buddhist-inspired orange robes and hyperspiritual lifestyle. So too have Southeast Asians commented on the Foggy Swamp characters, whose lifestyles are made fun of as being dirty and somehow inferior. The list goes on.

These things, unlike the elaborate and highly researched elements of East Asian culture, were not treated with respect and are therefore cultural appropriation. As a kid, I had the privilege of not noticing these things. Now I do.

White privilege is real, but every person has privileges of some kind, and in this case, I was in the wrong for not realizing that. Yes, I was a kid; but it took a long time for me to see that not everyone’s culture was respected the way mine was. They weren’t considered *aesthetic* enough, and therefore weren’t worth researching and accurately portraying to the creators. It’s easy for a lot of East Asians to argue, “No! I’ve experienced racism! I’m not privileged!” News flash: I’ve experienced racism too. But I’ve also experienced privilege. If white people can take their privilege for granted, so too can other races. Shocking, I know. And I know now how my privilege blinded me to the fact that not everybody felt the same euphoria I did seeing characters that looked like them onscreen. Not if they were a narrow and offensive portrayal of their race. There are enough good-guy Asian characters that Fire Lord Ozai is allowed to be evil; but can you imagine if he was the only one?

3. What It Does Right

This is sounding really down on Avatar, which I don’t want to do. It’s a great show with a lot of fantastic themes that don’t show up a lot in kids’ media. It isn’t superficial or sugarcoating in its portrayal of the impacts of war, imperialism, colonialism, disability, and sexism, just to name a few. There are characters like Katara, a brown girl allowed to get angry but is not defined by it. There are characters like Aang, who is the complete opposite of toxic masculinity. There are characters like Toph, who is widely known as a great example of how to write a disabled character.

But all of these good things sort of masked the issues with the show. It’s easy to sweep an issue under the rug when there’s so many great things to stack on top and keep it down. Alternatively, one little problem in a show seems to make-or-break media for some people. Cancel culture is the most obvious example of this gone too far. Celebrity says one ignorant thing? Boom, cancelled. But… kind of not really, and also, they’re now terrified of saying anything at all because their apologies are mocked and their future decisions are scrutinized. It encourages a closed system of creators writing only what they know for fear of straying too far out of their lane. Avatar does do a lot of great things, and I think it would be silly and immature to say that its cultural appropriation invalidates all of these things. At the same time, this issue is an issue that should be addressed. Criticizing one part of the show doesn’t mean that the other parts of it aren’t good, or that you shouldn’t be a fan.

If Avatar’s cultural appropriation does make you uncomfortable enough to stop watching, go for it. Stop watching. No single show appeals to every single person. At the same time, if you’re a massive fan, take a sec (honestly, if you’ve made it this far, you’ve taken many secs) to check your own privilege, and think about how the blurred line between cultural appreciation (of East Asia) and appropriation (basically everybody else) formed. Is it because we as viewers were also captivated by the aesthetic and overall story, and so forgive the more problematic aspects? Is it because we’ve been conditioned so fully into never expecting rep that when we get it, we cling to it?

I’m no media critic or expert on race, cultural appropriation, or anything of the sort. I’m just an Asian-American teenager who hopes that her own opinion can be put out there into the world, and maybe resonate with someone else. I hope that it’s given you new insight into why Avatar: The Last Airbender is a show with both cultural appropriation and appreciation, and why these things coexist. Thank you for reading!

[pure-kirarin]

The enchanting croon - Sabo x f!mermaid reader

A/N : Beware this very cute scenario that kept haunting me while I was swimming in the pool haha. I decided to break from the enchantment by writing it. I hope that you will like it as much as I do, because honestly, this is my favourite Sabo x reader scenario I have written for now. I added the song I listened to while writing this, as I looked at the sunset from my terrasse~ (look at the end of the post) Synopsis : Two different people cross paths only to share an enchanting moment, threading a fine line between dreams and reality.

Warnings : None. Enjoy.

-

“There isn’t much to explore, huh ?”

Sabo surmised as he wandered around the island. He didn’t care enough to follow Koala on her little shopping trip. The blond had most of his clothes tailored to his own tastes and fitted for his figure. He didn’t care much about fashion, but he prefered to own a few pieces of clothing that reflected his style and tastes rather than owning too many. He took advantage of these few moments of peace to explore the island and maybe gather some information for their next mission. Even when the young man had free time, he would always find a way to make it about work. The sunset was now approaching big times and he started to think about returning to the meeting point with Koala.

However, he wanted to spend some calm time by the beach before going back. In fact, he appreciated meditating on his own and gathering some alone time, away from his partner’s reprimands.

As he took a few more steps towards the tortuous alley, a gentle humming caught Sabo’s trained ears. The humming added a reverie-like beam to the atmosphere, it was as if he was stepping in some unreal territory. As he got closer , the enchanting voice got more distinguishable and it sounded now more like a chant. The gentle melody dragged him in, enchanting all his senses, in the span of a few seconds he was totally captivated.

He was curious to discover the origin of this croon. The dimness of the alley fell away the closer he came to the end, burned away by the colors of the sunset. Orange, yellow, red, all merged together, reflecting on the beach. And there, you sit in all your glory, offering him your back.

“So, this is what a mermaid’s singing sounds like ?” he thought to himself.

The notes were soft, but in your voice laid some melancholy that reached a deep part of his soul. He stood there in awe, he was petrified by the beauty of this magical moment. The way the notes rolled off your tongue, the way the light reflected on your scales made them glow like pure gold. He wanted to look longer, tracing every single image in his memory so he doesn’t forget about it.

He didn’t move by an inch, looking at you combing your hair with what looked like a golden comb, ornamented with little diamonds that glowed like stars under the sun. As much as he wanted to see the face of the fae creature that enchanted all his senses, he held back, unwilling to stop the chant.

He understood now the legends he read about mermaids, but how could such a beautiful song be one of destruction ?

But to his disenchantment -or would it be to his enchantment ?- the singing stopped abruptly. You turned your face towards him, sensing his presence, and the comb automatically fell from your frail hand.

A second was enough for him to react, he knew how to recognize terror in one’s eyes. He knew it too much, having worked for the revolutionaries for such a long time. You moved your tail, ready to disappear into the sea as if he had seen something that he was not supposed to see.

“Wait !” He didn’t move, he knew that if he did, you would be even less convinced to stay. “I won’t hurt you.”

You were already in the water, but as you heard the man’s voice, your movements got slower, as if you hesitated whether to go back or to stay.

“I am sorry I looked at you, that wasn’t very gentlemanly of me.”

He continued, his even voice was calming to you. No human has ever talked to you, you were excited and curious, but at the same time terrified.

Your intuition told you that he was a good man, the internalized voices of your parents and your likings said otherwise.

He sensed your inner conflict and decided to leave the choice up to you. He has met mermaids before but he has never talked to any. The mermaids he knew were also very different from you. Mostly ones he freed among other slaves, or older mermaids that were a part of a pirate crew. He got closer and his hand grasped the comb that fell on the shore minutes ago. His eyes scrutinized the arabesques that ornamented it. He then held it towards you.

“I think this belongs to you.”

You turned back and got closer to the rock where you were seated before he interrupted you. You leaned your upper body completely against it. Then, holding eye-contact, you stretched your delicate arm towards his. Without breaking eye contact your fingers grasped the comb, snatching it off his fingers, then, holding it close to your bosom. Your chest lifted up and down, your breath seemed heavy and you didn’t dare move. You seemed scared. His big black eyes were full of compassion as he could only imagine the reason behind your fear of humans.

“May I take a seat ?” he attempted. You nodded your head energetically, and he took place next to you on the huge rock. You inspected him with curiosity, but you didn’t move yet. In reality, you were now feeling that he wasn’t much of a threat, but you were still a bit scared.

“So, you understand me. Can you speak as well ?” you nodded again.

“My name is Sabo. Nice to meet you.”

You leaned towards his face inspecting it closely, your hand reached out to his cheek a few times but you were quick to hold back. You were very curious as you have always wanted to know more about humans. Sadly, everyone on your island said that humans were horrible creatures that would enslave and abuse mermaids. A few stories about mermaids being sold in auction houses were enough to scare you.

“Sabo” you repeated. He smiled and said back

“Yes, Sabo, that’s my name.”

“Sabo is a funny name.” your melodious laugh was contagious.

“You think so ? It’s short for sabotage. You’re right !” He laughed to lighten up the mood, a gloved hand scratching his neck.

“Humans have funny names.” You commented, taking his words literally.

“Not everyone. But it’s true that I have a rather peculiar name.” he smiled and you mirrored his smile.

You looked at the way the sun reflected on his golden locks and you thought that it looked so beautiful. You took place next to him now, you turned your face towards him, not able to detach your eyes from his sight. It wasn’t every day that you were able to see humans this close after all.

“My name is (Y/N) !”

“(Y/N), nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Your eyes now lowered, looking at his legs, head blown away by how different his body was from yours. He noticed that and couldn’t refrain from smiling. It was the same for him actually, but he tried not to scare you away by dwelling on your body, it was breathtaking and he felt extremely lucky to share such a moment with a dreamy creature.

“So, what were you doing here ? And why is there no one by the beach ?” he asked.

“I like to come watch the sunset. It takes around half an hour of swimming for me to get here, but it’s pretty much worth it...This is the only time that I can come here unbothered.”

“And why is that ?” he asked gently. He encouraged you to talk more, trying to get you to feel more comfortable.

“Oh, it’s because it’s prayer time. The citizens of this island pray at this time, so there is no one by the beach. I spend half an hour here before going back home. I like to sing and enjoy the fresh air...This is why I was very surprised to see you here…”

“I am not a local, you are right. I had no idea about this. I am sorry again for earlier, your voice sounded really enchanting.” He complimented and you looked in front of you now, blushing a bit. It was the first time that someone, a man, a human man, complimented you.

“Was it your first time listening to a mermaid sing ?”

“Yes” his answer was simple and fast, he enjoyed the sunset, not looking your way so he doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable.

“It’s my first time too. Seeing a human.”

“How is it ? Is it different from what you have imagined ?”

Sabo tried to put himself in your shoes, or should I say- in your scales. He was genuinely fascinated by how big the universe is, and how different it should feel to be someone else. Life as a mermaid must be very different from his own. This conversation he was having with you was an opportunity for him to see things through your eyes.

He thought about the privilege he had as a human, and how he would often forget to his dismay, that the world was far bigger and that everyone had different experiences. And that was what he fought for, he fought for a world where a mermaid and a human could meet and where it would be natural.

“It is different.” You said as you veered your eyes towards his face once again. You seemed unable to contain your excitement. Your eyes shined like those of a child with an insatiable curiosity. “For example, I knew that humans had legs, but I have never seen legs before...Can I..Can I feel them ?” you hesitated.

“Of...of course.” he stuttered a bit, surprised by your question, but he had to remind himself that you were just fascinated by your differences and that it was just an innocent request.

You put your hand on his thigh and squeezed it before laughing. “It’s hard, different from my tail. You want to touch it as well ?”

His cheeks were rose colored as he thought that you really had no idea of the hidden meaning of your words. He then took off his gloves and touched your tail with the tip of his fingers. You put your hand on his and pressed it on your tail while laughing

“Come on, don’t be scared. It doesn’t hurt.”

“It feels soft, like a fish.” He said.

“Well, I am technically half a fish, so that’s right.” You let go of his hand and added. “Also, I imagined humans to be more...scary ? I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude to you. It’s just that- it’s complicated between humans and mermen. My parents have always warned me of humans.”

“I know” Sabo was now looking at the sky with dreamy eyes “And your parents were probably right. They worry about you. Most things that you have probably heard about humans are unfortunately true.”

Your shimmer smile faded away leaving an expression of melancholy and sadness on your traits.

“But not everyone is like this.” He looked back at you with a determined expression. “I am a revolutionary. I fight for freedom and equality, for a world where humans and all other species will be considered equal. I am sorry that the world isn’t a safe place for you at the moment, (Y/N).”

You smiled lovingly and pressed on his hand. You could feel that the man was incredibly sincere and you were moved by his words. You then added, and in your voice he could discern that same tone of sadness and melancholy that he heard in your singing ;

“That’s very admirable of you, Sabo. I have always dreamt of..Of walking outside freely and meeting humans. Life underwater is fun, but it’s also just one percent of what is there to see in this world...I think that it’s unfair that I’m not allowed to discover all of these things…” your eyes almost teared up as you said those things. “But your words give me hope. I wish more people were like you, Sabo. I don’t understand much about “revolutionaries”. But you sound like good people.”

There wasn’t much to be understood, only to be felt. You put your head on his shoulder and he hesitated before rubbing yours in a comforting way. You were just two people sharing a connexion, something that was soul-level and that words couldn’t express. You were the embodiment of what he was fighting for. And you being there, so beautiful, yet like a bird in a cage, tore his heart apart.

With a swift move you plunged into the sea and dragged him away from his hand. “Come on, that was really depressing. Let’s swim together.” You said with a laugh.

“W-wait !” he protested. “I can’t swim !” you looked at him with big eyes. He was already starting to sink a bit when you got closer to his body and put his arms around your neck.

“Hold onto me really well then !” you said with a mischievous smile.

He did as you asked and was surprised with the ease with which you held his body and with how fast you swam.

“And why can’t you swim ? Are you scared ?” you teased a bit.

“It’s not that, I am a devil fruit holder. But I loved to swim before.”

You heard about devil fruits before, but only in books. You have never witnessed such a power and believed it to be a legend. But you also knew that devil fruit eaters can’t swim, since devil fruits were cursed by the sea.

“What kind of power do you have ?” you asked, curious as you bring Sabo back to the shore. He got up, turning his fist into flames under your admiring gaze :

“I can control flames”

“That’s pretty impressive. I wonder if I can get such a cool power one day as well.” You smiled.

“Who knows ? What kind of power would you like to have ?” he asked as he took off his jacket and shirt, wringing them to get rid of the water. You got lost looking at his body and how handsome he was. He really did look charming. You then recollected your thoughts trying to think about his question :

“I have never thought about that. I didn’t think that devil fruits existed until today. I like talking to you Sabo, you taught me so many things.”

You tapped the place next to you back at the rock, gesturing for him to take a seat which he does.

“I like talking to you too, (Y/N), it’s refreshing. You have such a pure and innocent way of viewing the world.”

He meant that it was easy for you to warm up to him, and it gave him hope. It felt as if you were ready to see the good in everything. But he knew that this could also put you in danger, as some people could have bad intentions towards you, especially that mermaids were unfortunately targeted by slave traffickers.

“Gee, if my parents knew that I’m here with a human, they’ll kill me~” you mused.

He tapped your shoulder in a comforting way and said :

“They don’t need to know for now, but I promise you that I will do my best so that humans and mermen can live in peace. This way, your parents won’t be so worried about you coming here.”

Without a thought, you encircled the man’s neck with both your arms.

“Thank you so much Sabo” you chirped. He put a hand on your back, taken aback by the proximity. He knew that you didn’t think much about this gesture, but he couldn’t help but notice the softness of your chest against his. He pulled away gently, embarrassed by this thought crossing his mind.

“It’s only natural, (Y/N), it’s my duty.”

“But still, this means that you are a really kind and selfless person.” A smile played on your mouth. But the corner of your lips fell down as you noticed that the sun was already setting down. You had to go away soon. You wished to spend more time with Sabo, but if you stayed any longer, your parents would get suspicious, not to forget that prayer time was almost elapsed.

“It’s getting darker now...I have to go soon…”

Sabo looked at his wrist watch, noticing that his meeting time with Koala was also getting closer. Time passed by really fast in such an agreable company, he thought to himself.

“I have to go as well.” he says as he puts back his shirt after drying it faster with his devil fruit powers. “It was really nice meeting you, (Y/N), I wish to hear you sing once again.” And he smiled gently, and your heart hurt a bit as you didn’t want to leave his side.

You wanted him to tell you more, you wanted to know more about this world that he was trying to build for you and your people, a world where humans and mermen could coexist.

“Say Sabo...We will meet again right ? You’ll come here again, right ?” you tugged at his sleeve bringing him closer to the rock where you were seated. Your pleading eyes made his heart melt and he couldn’t help but ruffle your hair. This simple touch made your heart skip a beat. You wanted him to stay so badly. You really liked how gentle he was, how respectful and polite he was towards you. You have always been both scared and fascinated by humans, yet, now that you have met him, you wanted to meet more of them.

Sabo seemed to think for a moment, then, he took a piece of paper out of the pocket of his coat and put it in your hand.

“Unfortunately, I’ll be leaving this island tonight, however, I’ll give you a piece of my vivre card.”

You looked at the piece laying in the palm of your hands with big surprised eyes. He continued, noticing your surprise :

“This will always guide you to me. It points to my location. This way, whenever I’m by the beach or the sea, you’ll be able to find me, if you want to of course. I’ll be very pleased to hear you sing, and to talk to you of course, (Y/N).”

You instinctively closed your fingers around the piece of paper, bringing it closer to your chest. I will cherish it with all my heart, you thought to yourself. You wanted Sabo to never forget about you, and you were excited to meet him again, and have him tell you about his adventures. You looked a bit around you then took his hand and placed your golden comb in it.

“Please accept this as a memento of mine.” He looked at the beautiful comb, was it alright for him to accept such a gift ? Seeing him so reluctant and hesitant, you reassured him

“I want you to keep it, maybe you’re not aware of it, but today was really meaningful for me. I was afraid of humans because of mermen legends, but you proved me wrong.”

You punctuated your words with a smile that he mirrored. You were so adorable to him, he liked how spontaneous you were and how easy it was for you to speak your feelings. As you took your hand away from his, he closed his fingers around the comb then put it in his pocket.

“I’ll keep it then. Please know that the pleasure is shared. Good and evil exist everywhere. I am glad that I have given you a good impression about humans. Please don’t hesitate to ask me for help if you run into any kind of trouble. Alright ?”

You nodded, your heart melting at his kindness. You hesitated for a second, then, you lifted your upper body with your palms placed on the rock. Then, with one arm, you pulled Sabo from his cravate so that his face was inches away from yours. His eyes were shaken with surprise, pupils dilated. You closed yours and kissed his cheek softly, his blond locks tickling your face. You let go of him fast, plunging into the sea.

“I won’t hesitate...I hope that we will see each other again…”

He straightened his back, smiling at you. It would have been impossible not to be shaken by your move. He engraved that moment in his memory : the way your cheeks were flushed pink, the tone in which you spoke : flowing like velvet, and how your hair glowed in the dark as if it had stars entangled in it. You were so beautiful, too beautiful, and he had a desire to protect this beauty, this purity of yours. He had to pursue his goal, to continue, to make the world a place for beauty to be appreciated.

Your voice was heard once again, now low, just a murmur.

“But there was one thing that the mermen legends weren’t wrong about...Human men are really handsome.”

He could hear a shy smile in your voice, and after these few words, you disappeared into the water, as if you had just been a dream. But the comb in his pocket proved otherwise. What a playful girl, he thought. Then, he stayed still for a few minutes, taking in the peaceful air of the sea.

Maybe you will meet again. He thought. But till then, he had to work harder. He turned his back to the sea, returning to his meeting point with Koala, although his thoughts were still attached to your enchanting croon.

Tag list : @fishandfuck

[mutants-and-soldiers]

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

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