#she's spent years and years dealing with men who behave in that way; even as a Mask-Wearer she's got no reason to believe that sanji is-

[prophecydungeon]

15 for swordbearer?

15. Talk about the characters' struggles & how you decided on those

swordbearer explores hiyori's canon struggles, so that wasn't a terribly hard thing to pick; i wanted to dig deeper into what might be lurking behind how cartoonishly oblivious she is to zoro's utter lack of interest in her, and i wanted to draw a bunch of lines from that to the very genuine horrors she's lived through under a dictatorship that forces her to Perform nonstop. i also wanted to explore the hashtag asexuality of desperately wanting someone precisely because they'll never so much as look your way, especially through the lens of all the masks, literal and metaphorical, that she is forced to wear for twenty years and subsequently discards in a desperate gamble when she meets zoro. safety in rejection + the sting of rejection + masks shattering for good + you're fine until you're not.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

I'm already deciding on part 3, so don't bother asking for it! do feel free to send in suggestions, characters for her to end up with, etc.

find part 1 here.

summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.

warning - angst, death.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Avengers were worried. Your friends and family were concerned. Hell, even your asshole of an ex was worried. It has been months since anyone had seen or heard from you, not since the day of the gathering. The house you and Steve used to live in was burnt to a crisp. Nothing was left. You had just disappeared. Steve ended up getting a couple of bruises and some broken bones that healed from your friends. They knew he was the reason for this.

You stood there, covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. You had been minding your own business, wanting to grab some food and return to your cabin, but these men. Oh, these men. Why did they have to think they were better than you? Why couldn’t they have minded their own business and left you alone? Was their entire species built on invading a woman’s life? Could they not just fuck off. You were so annoyed, looking around at the pathetic beings that lay bloody and lifeless. “Men.” You growl quietly before bending down to grab your bags full of food and return to where you call home. You guess this could be a time to think about everything you have done and that has happened. 

Sure, burning your house down was probably a bit over the top. But you wanted to get rid of the memory of Steve, and that was the only thing you could think of at the time. Some may call you childish or crazy for how you dealt with your emotions, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You had spent years in a relationship with a man who was stuck in the past, who had thought you were only meant to cook, clean and bear his children. Steve didn’t really love you, he just wanted to use you, and it took him behaving like a child and throwing a tantrum for you to see he wasn’t meant for you.

It doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. In the end, you did love him. He did have a piece of your heart. The woman inside of you was grieving and hurting. She begged you to forgive him, make him see you were meant for him. But you were stronger than her. You know that no man could ever treat you like that. You know he wasn’t right for you, and you were on a war path. You groaned as you walked up the stairs and onto your porch. Making your way into your house, you walk past everything and to the kitchen, where you place the bags down. “Hello, people who do not live here.” You hum, facing your old team members, who look shocked as you are covered in blood. 

“Y/n?” Nat steps forward, looking you up and down, trying to determine if the blood is yours. You nod, digging into the bag and pulling out your food. You reach over and grab a fork as you begin to dig in. 

“That’s my name.” You give a sarcastic smile, chewing on your food. Your eyes move over everyone before focusing on your ex. “What’s he doing here? I thought you were too busy finding someone else to put up with your shit? Ya know…” You jump up onto the counter, swinging your legs as you glare. “Someone who would make a better mother than I would.” You smile before stuffing more food into your mouth, humming at its taste. 

Tony tilts his head, making his way over to you, unafraid. “You’ve changed.” His eyes move over your face, and yours connect with him. He smiles. “I like it.” He pulls you into a hug, “I missed you, kid.” You smile, patting his back.

“Missed you too, dumbass.” He pulls back, and the rest of the Avengers make their way over to hug you, letting you know how much they’ve missed you and how worried they’ve been. “So… Whatcha doing here? I won’t ask how you found me because that’d be a stupid question.” 

“As we said, we were worried.” Nat tilts her head, “were you attacked?” You shrug, chewing your food more. “Y/n?”

“Sorta, I guess? I don’t know. Men don’t know how to mind their business.” Your focus moves to the container in your hand, barely noticing the looks they give each other. “Yes, I killed them, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?! You murdered people! See, this is why I said what I said.” Steve growls, staring you down as he tries to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it, asshole day?” You groan, tilting your head back as you feel a headache form. “Yes, Steven. I murdered people, and again, you’ve stated I wouldn’t be a good mother. How about you get over that?” You hum, shovelling more food into your mouth as you stare at him without emotion. You point your fork at him. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem? Maybe you're the one who wouldn’t make a good parent? I mean, let’s face it, you have issues. You can’t even keep anything good in your life, and when you do find something good, you try and destroy it because you are so self-absorbed.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how some team members chuckle as you tear the retired Captain a new one. “You think you're better than any of us? You’ve killed, too. You’ve done worse. So what if I did the world a favour and took out some pathetic men? What are you going to do? What is worse than you ripping my heart out like I meant nothing to you?” You place the food down, hop off the counter and approach him with a glare. 

And the dumbass decides to open his mouth. “Well, if you want my opinion–” 

“I don’t.” Your glare hardens, jaw clenching as you stop yourself from killing him, especially in front of your friends and family. “I have my own.” Everyone’s breath hitches when you step closer to the towering man. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want trash in my house, so I suggest you find the door before I set you on fire.” You growl lowly, sending shivers up everyone’s spines before you turn and go into your bathroom, needing to get the blood of the useless off of you. 

Once you finish showering and changing into comfier clothes, you return and stop when you notice everyone bar one, still here. “Oh, you guys didn’t leave?” You look over and see Wanda preparing a feast in your kitchen while everyone else makes themselves at home around your cabin. You look around to make sure Steve isn’t hiding around a corner. “Huh, I guess trash does know how to take itself out.” Your head turns as you hear Tony laugh, nearly falling out of his seat.

“Oh, kid. You don’t know how much I missed you and your sarcasm.” He sips the very expensive whiskey that you may or may not have stolen from him. “Morgan’s missed you too, especially how you’d teach her your sarcastic ways.” You smile softly, accepting a glass from Natasha as she walks up to you. 

“I’ve missed her too. I’m sorry for not rushing over when she got hurt.” You take a sip, leaning into Natasha as she wraps an arm around you. 

Tony shrugs. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise. She had help plus. She isn’t even your kid. You shouldn’t have to apologise for not rushing to someone else’s kid.” He rubs his forehead, “It’s not your job to do that. Sure, when you are on the field. I get it because that’s our job.” Tony points at you. “Don’t let Captain tightass get to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.” 

You smile, “Thanks, Tony. Always one for wise words.” You smile when Wanda comes around and kisses your cheek softly, mentioning that dinner’s ready. You all head over to the table and sit down, feeling a pair of eyes on you. You turn and notice Bucky staring at you with a soft smile. “What’s up, Buck?” 

He shakes his head, “nothing. I just want you to know that I tried talking some sense into him, and when he didn’t listen and we found out the truth of your disappearance, we kicked his ass.” You giggle, shaking your head at the image. Bucky flashes a proud smile at making you laugh. He’s happy you’re smiling and loves his best friend, but Steve didn’t deserve someone like you. You deserved the world, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking it.

“Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that. I know you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me, but I appreciate the love you’ve shown me.” You thank them, feeling loved even though deep down you feel broken. Once dinner was over, they said their goodbyes and left, promising that they’ll come and see you again. You were left alone once again. Left in your thoughts as the broken woman inside you pounded against your heart, she wanted out. She wanted to cry and grieve the relationship you once had. But anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. You walked into your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t who Steve had left. She was different. “How could you have been so stupid?” You spoke to her, watching her mouth move like yours did. “Why did you fall for him?! Why did you give your heart over?!” You screamed, your fist flying forward and shattering the glass. 

You were better off alone. Maybe one day you could open your heart again, and maybe one day you’ll find the person right for you. But right now, you needed to find yourself, find the woman you were without him. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 3

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Three

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 8323 Rating: General Summary: Your internet bestie arrives in preparation for the Star Wars convention you will attend together. Everything is set for the greatest weekend of your life! Until you arrive at the con and find yourself overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. At least you have numerous incredibly realistic Mando cosplays to distract you from how stressed you feel, and there's one in particular which is uncannily accurate... Content Warnings: Reader struggles to eat due to nerves and feels anxious due to crowds. Also, not sure if it's really a warning, but there's some allusions to fandom discourse in this one, particularly how men in the SW fandom can behave towards women. So warning for fandom wank, I guess, but reader goes off on them ;) Author's Note: A very long update, wow. Honestly, this chapter was semi-autobiographical lmao. It was my exact response to how busy SWC was last year, even down to hiding under the stairs! Except I did not have a cool internet bestie (just my uncool irl bestie), nor did I stand up and speak in a panel like reader does. I did however see many amazing cosplays and the picture of the Din cosplayer is one I took there! :) Hope you like this one. Not sure for how long me updating every two days will last, but my mind is fully focused on this story for the moment, so who knows! Thank you once again to the wonderful @suresnips for being my beta! Couldn't do it without you ♡

3. This Is Why (I Don't Leave The House) [Reader's POV]

You could scarcely believe that the person you had spent so many hours of your life gushing over The Mandalorian with online, was really here with you in your little flat. Ria had arrived a few hours ago and you two had instantly gotten along famously. Somehow, it was as though you had always known her, even though this was the first time you were actually meeting in person. 

You had left your flat earlier in the evening with a mix of trepidation in the pit of your stomach and overwhelming excitement crackling like electricity as it coursed through your veins. The prospect of finally meeting someone who meant so much to you was both daunting and exhilarating. There were so many things that could go wrong, since you had never spent any time together in person and were unsure of your dynamic in that sense. There was pressure, too, particularly bearing the distance Ria had travelled from the U.S. in mind, plus the money you had both spent on ForceCon tickets. 

It was a big deal for you to invite someone over to your flat to stay with you like this. From morning until evening, the two of you would be in each other’s presence constantly. At least it was only for five nights… Ria was leaving first thing Tuesday morning as you had to get straight back to work. You quieted your nerves with the thought of how brief her visit would be, until a notification lit up your phone and made your stomach drop:

[thisistheslay]: 18:36: I’M HEREEEEEE!!!! 

Ria must be here at the station. You searched around frantically for her, trying to spot her amongst all the commuters that were barreling through the station. You realised, then, that you had no idea how tall she was compared to your own height. That was something you had never needed to know online. Finally, you spotted the brown hair and thick black glasses that you instantly recognised as your internet best friend’s, making her way towards the barrier and the incredible weekend of nerdy fun that lay before the two of you.

After approximately five seconds of being in each other’s presence, you knew that all your fears were unfounded. 

As Ria had fumbled with her phone to make the contactless payment and make her way through the gates, the way her face had lit up at the sight of you instantly allayed your anxiety. The bone-crushing hug she had pulled you into had helped too, it was hard to believe she was actually here with you. This hug was for all of the hard days you had endured, separated by many miles when the two of you had just wished you could wrap the other in your arms and be there for them. 

It struck you how poised Ria was in real life, too. At the end of the day, the two of you shared a pretty nerdy hobby, it would have been understandable if she was quiet and a little nerdy. But here your internet best friend was, pushing her way through the busy rush hour crowds and throwing the death glares of the commuters, mainly old men in suits, who had glared at the two of you for daring to embrace in the middle of the station hall and block their way from making it to the next tube. 

It always baffled you to witness how eager people were to push and shove their way through others for the sake of arriving at their destination just two or three minutes earlier. Somewhere along the way, it felt as though a basic human kindness had been lost in how Londoners seemed to interact with each other when it came to public transport. 

But that was a gripe for another time. Your best friend was here, you would not let anyone ruin that. As you emerged from the station and onto the street, you found at a loss for what to say, other than asking about her flight. Luckily, Ria filled the gap in conversation by incessantly babbling about her travels here and the shady characters she had encountered during her two layovers, as she chatted all the way back to your flat. All the guilt you had felt at having her make her own way here – you had wanted to meet her at the airport but work had prevented you from getting away on time – vanished as you saw how much confidence she possessed. Her bubbliness was almost overwhelming, you could scarcely get a word in edgeways. But secretly you were glad of it; ordinarily you found that you were a little awkward in the presence of people you had just met as you adjusted to their presence and their energy. Ria more than compensated for your social shortcomings and fortunately, your dynamic appeared as though it would translate from online into the real world.

Ria burst into your flat after you had met her at the station, full of enthusiasm, lighting every corner of your abode with the warmth and humour that had always been present online. It was incredible how much energy she had actually, considering the fact she had just endured a transatlantic flight. You marvelled at her energy levels, considering you felt exhausted after merely going to the shops. It was so amazing to have her here with you, though. 

You had laughed before meeting her about how bizarre it was that internet friends always seemed to know the most intimate details about your life, in a way that you never felt comfortable sharing with real life friends… but you had never seen each other’s legs! Yet, now Ria was here, legs and all. 

The two of you were inflating the air mattress for Ria to sleep on, keen to get an early night after so much travelling and how early the two of you would need to be up to make your way to the Dockside Convention Centre for the Con the following morning. You positioned the air mattress underneath the TV, on which you had just spent hours watching your favourite episodes of the show that had brought the two of you together. Of course, you had only intended to watch one episode. But with Mando, there was no such thing as only one episode. Once you started, you just couldn’t stop and you had ended up watching most of the second season. Both you and Ria agreed that the second half of it was incredible, but it was a bit of a slow start. Overall the pair of you preferred the first season, which was a pretty popular consensus amongst fans.

Ria had no qualms about her sleeping arrangements. London was an extortionate city at the best of times, but accommodation when ForceCon was in town – especially close to the convention centre – had meant that your offer to allow Ria to stay in your flat was the only way she had been able to afford to come. It was a debt to you that Ria was grateful for. You didn’t see it as any kind of debt though, you knew she would do the same for you. 

Plus, there was no way you could not offer to help her. If something as ridiculous as actually encountering Mando happened, she would never be able to forgive you if she was not by your side.

Ria had always been your closest friend since you had first met her online and you were so relieved that there had been no hint of awkwardness between the two of you. Ria had made herself right at home, and you had struggled to believe as the chatter and laughter continued that this was genuinely the first time the two of you had ever met in person. 

You watched in awe as Ria moved around your flat, her brown hair which she usually wore in a bob, now tied up ready to sleep. The glasses with thick-black frames were still on her face, a sure sign she would be scrolling on her phone, probably replying to people on her wildly popular blog, before she finally got some sleep. 

Now that she had changed into the tank top and shorts that she would sleep in, you could see more of the extensive tattoo collection she possessed, including a few Mandalorian tattoos. There was an outline of Mando’s helmet that was so well-done, it made you want to rush out to the nearest tattoo shop and get one for yourself. You knew there would be tattoo artists at the Con too, but you also knew you would inevitably chicken out.

With her confident nature and collection of tattoos, you were both in awe of, and utterly intimidated by your best friend. You thought, as you watched her climb onto the air mattress with a giggle, as it tossed her around, that Ria seemed so much older than you even though she was actually eighteen months younger! But that was the bizarre thing about being in your mid twenties, people either seemed to be fully formed adults or still more like teenagers. There was rarely any inbetween. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised that the two of you had gotten along so well. After all, you and Ria shared a similar sense of humour, had a similar taste in music (that wasn’t the Mandalorian soundtrack) and a love of books that had allowed your friendship to blossom into something more than purely an entirely Mando-centric friendship that you felt like you shared with some of your other online friends. It wasn’t as though the friendships were shallow or that you didn’t get on with them or anything, but you had just not spoken more deeply about other parts of your lives in the same way as you had to Ria.

“How’s the air mattress?” You asked with a smirk as you watched Ria toss and turn as the unpredictable surface tossed her around.

“It’s fine! Just a bit lively but honestly now I’m lay down, it’s super comfortable. I’ll be asleep in no time,” Ria smiled.

“Good,” You nodded. “Still can’t believe you’re really here. I thought about this moment for months but now it’s actually here, it’s surreal,”

“I can’t believe I’m here either. In this flat, which I’ve seen so many times on FaceTime. It feels so weird in the best way!” Ria laughed. “We’re going to have the best time this weekend.”

“We are. It’ll be incredible,” You breathed, trying to contain your excitement so that you would actually be able to get some sleep. The thought of being surrounded by so many fellow Star Wars nerds was electrifying.

“And don’t forget that panel tomorrow, when we finally meet Mando!” Ria exclaimed. “I’m sure he’s going to fall in love with me at first sight.”

“In your dreams, Ria,” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Goodnight, see you bright and early in the morning.”

“Goodnight bestie, I need to get my beauty sleep for Mando,” Ria added with a wink.

You shook your head with a grin on your face as you made your way into your bedroom, still utterly bemused by Ria’s utter conviction that the two of you were somehow going to encounter the man who was sworn to complete secrecy. You kind of admired Ria’s utterly unshakable confidence in the matter, even if it was a little delusional. At the end of the day, though, you knew it was all lighthearted. She wasn’t the type of person to try to hack into CCTV cameras or bribe the doctors and nurses at the hospital where a suspiciously-realistic cosplayer had surprised sick children. Ria loved The Mandalorian a great deal, but she also had other hobbies and interests. 

As you tried your best to convince your body that it really needed to sleep before the Con tomorrow, you were struck by how surreal this all felt. Tomorrow, you would travel to what would become, for the next few days, the nerd centre of the world. It was an event that you had dreamt of going to for years, where all of the latest Star Wars projects were announced. Yet, you had never imagined it would be possible to attend, due to how expensive a trip abroad would be. Luckily though, ForceCon travelled around regularly and the stars had aligned to make this possible for you. When it had been announced that the next one would be held in London, you knew you had to do whatever it took to be there.

After almost an entire year of anticipation, you knew that in just a few short hours you would be there, at the event where everyone who was anyone in the Star Wars world and the people who admired them were to be found. 

There was just one exception, though. Mando would never get to see how much the fans appreciated him. Keeping his identity a secret meant that he would never be able to feel the amount of love that fans held for him. Your heart constricted as you thought about it. Even though you had tried in vain to convince yourself that you didn’t really care that much about not knowing who he was, you thought it sad that the man, who was so beloved by people young and old, might never know how truly appreciated he was. You just hoped that one day, on his own terms, he would allow himself to feel some of it. 

It was a thought that lulled you off into sleep, underneath the large poster of Season One that hung above your single bed.

The familiar sound of the opening theme to The Mandalorian jolted you awake. With its rhythmic drum beat and melodic bass recorder, it was really the perfect alarm. What wasn’t so perfect, however, was the ungodly hour at which it had interrupted the peaceful slumber you were enjoying. You fumbled around, bleary-eyed in the early-morning light as your hand felt around the nightstand to turn it off, frustrated at being awoken. Until you remembered precisely why you were awake at five in the morning.

For a second you lay there and closed your eyes, attempting to compose yourself and stop the fluttering in your stomach as the realisation dawned upon you: It was ForceCon day!

Finally, after months and months of anticipation, you would finally get to have one of the best weekends of your life. The big day was finally here and you and Ria did not want to miss a single second of time there, hence the early start. The venue for the Con, the Dockside Convention Centre, was a considerable distance from the outskirts of the city where you lived in your rented flat, which somehow fell within your budget despite how close it was to the tube station. 

The journey to the convention centre was even further than your daily commute to the museum where you worked. The thought of a journey that would take upwards of an hour to start your day, before you had even contended with the crowds at the convention, was slightly distressing to you. But you knew that with Ria by your side, there was no doubt that you would be able to get through it.

Getting up at five meant that you had ample time to get ready for the event. Your outfit was comfortable and practical but still showed your nerdy side. It had been somewhat of a project for you in the run up to the convention, with a denim jacket that you had walked past in a shop window and fell in love with, decorated with various iron-on patches that were a nod to your favourite characters. You coupled it with a comfortable pair of black jeans that weren’t too tight – a must when doing as much walking as you were about to do this weekend – and your trusty favourite pair of shoes. 

You wandered into the main room of your flat, quietly watching as Ria sat on the small couch and expertly applied the finishing touches to her make-up. Suddenly, she snapped the handheld mirror shut and turned to face you.

“Are you ready for the greatest weekend of our lives?!” Ria asked enthusiastically.

“Yes… but no… but yes!” You exclaimed, still unsure how to process the rush of emotions that you were feeling about the day ahead.

“Let me just fill my water bottle up and then I’m ready,” Ria said as she jumped up from the couch and grabbed the titanium bottle that was covered with various Star Wars characters.You chuckled at that. Despite how effortlessly cool your friend seemed to most people, even you, it was reassuring to know that at heart, Ria was still a nerd.

After one last check that you both had your passes for the event, you grabbed the backpacks you had carefully packed the previous evening, between episodes of The Mandalorian, and headed out, to where a weekend of nerd heaven awaited. 

Waking up so early had meant that the two of you could take your time getting ready and then head out to the convention before the main rush hour began on the tube. Much as you loved your sleep and wanted to feel well-rested, being able to avoid the worst of the crowds was a deeply appealing prospect. Plus, you would have a chance to stop for breakfast closer to the convention hall and eat food that wasn’t horrendously overpriced. 

But as you sat there, staring at the sandwich you had ordered and barely taken a few bites of, you seemed to have a mental block when it came to actually finishing the thing. You wanted to, you knew you needed to get some food in your body to give yourself the fuel for contending with the crowds at the convention. Try as you might, though, your mind was not onboard.

“Too nervous?” Ria asked with a knowing smirk as she munched on some fruit.

“I guess,” You shrugged, feeling as though your stomach had tied itself into knots and was attempting to strangle itself. 

“You can always bring it with you. We’ll probably have to get in line and wait around for a while before we go inside. Perhaps you’ll feel like eating then,” Ria suggested.

“Yeah, good idea,” You smiled, suddenly feeling immensely relieved that you had someone else here with you. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you, Ria. Thank you.”

The two of you left the cafe with your takeout coffee cups and finally headed towards the convention centre. As you made your way towards the crowds of people, your stomach dropped as you noticed just how busy things were going to be. For the first few hundred feet, things weren’t too bad as you were sent down what appeared to be a wide, service road, built into the side of the convention centre with the masses of people who were all heading in the same direction as you.

You stuck to the side of the walkway, where you could see the roads and city below, and feel the fresh air on your face over the barrier that bordered one side of the walkway. As long as you could still see daylight and the crowds were moving, you were fine. Slightly stressed, but you could cope. 

However, the sight that greeted you at the end of the walkway was like something from your worst nightmares. It was your first glimpse inside the packed convention hall, where you had been so certain that you would have the greatest weekend of your life. But if it involved walking into something as stressful as the sight before you, you were not so sure that it would be the incredible experience you had built it up to be in your head.

As far as you could see, in the biggest room you had ever stepped foot in, there was an endless sea of people. The space was enormous and industrial, with a black floor and white sliding doors at the far left end that opened sporadically to let attendees into the main hall. You felt sick as you looked at it, you couldn’t survive more than a few minutes in that space, especially without knowing how long you would be there for. But no one you encountered appeared to have any idea as to how long you would be in this space. You were just glad that you had arrived a little before the doors to the con opened.

You had expected that, given that ForceCon was officially endorsed by Lucasfilm, it would at least be professionally organised. Instead, though, it seemed as though there were a small number of stressed out volunteers responsible for herding the attendees into a series of pens, with no security or leadership in sight. The poor workers looked incredibly stressed and overwhelmed by the influx of people.

“Ria, I don’t know if I can do this.” You mumbled when you noticed the crowd of people that you were being swept towards as the volunteers motioned for you to fill one of the pens. It seemed as though it would never end, as far as your eyes could see there were people. You felt panic rising in your chest, how were you ever going to get out of here?

“Just breathe, bestie. Breathe.” Ria said, placing her hand upon your back soothingly. “This won’t last forever, it’ll all be worth it. Think about the Mando cosplays! Look, there’s one over there!”

But it was no use. Not even the greatest Mandalorian cosplay in the galaxy would be able to comfort you now. Panic was rising in your chest, you felt overwhelmed by being stuck between two metal barriers in a pen full of people.

You tried your best to focus on her words as you took a seat on the cold, hard floor of the hall. The buzzing in your head was back, it grew louder and louder. You shut your eyes and stared at the floor, hands covering your ears as you willed time to go faster.

“Won’t be long now. I promise,” Ria said reassuringly.

How was she always so calm and composed when you felt as though the world was ending over a few people in a room together? It seemed almost unfair. But you knew that Ria would not want you to feel bad, she just wanted to make sure that you were going to be alright.

Mercifully, before too long, the con opened and you eventually began to move out of the enormous room. At that moment, you felt excitement bubbling up in the pit of your stomach as it dawned on you that you were about to enter Star Wars heaven. You glanced for the first time at the various incredible cosplays that surrounded you, in awe of the hours each person had dedicated to their craft.

Any relief you felt was short-lived, though. The main hallway was not much better. You couldn’t move, or stop to think. The crowd continued plodding down the hall towards a destination unknown. You were sure it was the busiest place you had ever been in your entire life. 

“Just keep swimming, swimming,” You chanted to yourself under your breath as a way to soothe yourself. 

You took deep breaths and concentrated on the rhythmic thudding of your feet as you stared up the ceiling and continued on your way. You instantly felt lighter, the beginnings of a smile traced across your features when you looked up and saw a giant poster of Mando hanging from the ceiling. If you could just make it to him, you would be most of the way down the corridor and then you would almost be at your destination: the main hall.

Focusing on the Mando poster helped and before you knew it, you were there, surrounded by a dizzying variety of stalls selling more Star Wars merch than you had ever seen gathered together in one place in your entire life. You thought you had a pretty impressive collection yourself – having a proper, adult salary had made it easier to give into your whims and purchase a variety of collectibles – but this was really something else. 

You were like a kid in a candy shop, mouth open as you wandered from stall to stall, taking in the wares of the various vendors. You felt like Mando the first time he visited Tatooine. He had wandered around just like you were, amazed by the variety of produce on display. Unlike Mando, though, you were unable to get even remotely close to the stalls. There was a throng of people gathered at each one. You were not the least bit assertive in crowds, you had no desire to engage in a battle with your elbows through a gaggle of fellow nerds for some slightly-overpriced collectibles.

“Shall we find somewhere to sit and catch our breath before the panel?” Ria asked, sensing your discomfort. For someone that you had only met face-to-face the previous evening, she was more perceptive than some people who had known you for years.

You headed out of the main hall, desperate to find any relief from the overwhelming noises and sounds that the thousands of people crammed inside the Dockside Convention Centre were currently creating. The first place that you noticed was a staircase. You ducked under the metal bar that surrounded the bottom of it and flopped down unceremoniously on the floor, finally feeling your nerves begin to settle as there was a physical barrier between you and the rest of humanity for the time being. Things suddenly felt a lot quieter and more manageable as the buzzing in your head began to subside. Ria sat opposite you, her blue eyes looking into yours concernedly.

“Ria, I’m sorry I’m such a nervous wreck. It’s just… it’s so much busier than I was expecting.” You admitted.

“Girl, shut up. This place is crazy. Like, the craziest place I have ever been in my entire life. I suffer with this shit too.” Ria admitted. “I think I’m just running on, like, the adrenaline of thinking about Mando being at that panel.” 

“Ria, he’s not going to be at the panel!” You laughed. “Please stop being delusional!” 

“Sure, there he is right now!” Ria giggled breathlessly as she pointed towards the main hallway, which had emptied somewhat since you had fought your way through it just a few minutes ago.

You had fully intended to make another jibe about Ria being delusional, but when you turned your head, the sight caused all coherent thoughts to leave your brain. You were transfixed at the sight before you. It was as though you had suddenly been transported a long time ago to a galaxy far, far away. The most incredible cosplay you had ever laid eyes upon was heading straight towards you. The armour itself was immaculate, the details on it really looked as if they were forged out of Beskar by a Mandalorian armourer. Of course you knew that screen realistic cosplays existed, you had obviously seen the viral footage of a Mando cosplayer visiting a children’s hospital a few months ago. But it was more than the armour that made your entire world pause on its axis. It was the way this cosplayer carried himself: the self-assured, confident swagger that you would recognise anywhere. The way his hands were held at his side, somewhere between relaxed and tensed, ready to put his finger on the trigger at a moment’s notice. For one brief, fleeting second: you could have sworn that the real Mando was actually walking towards you.

“Wow… that’s…” You stuttered, failing to find words that could capture your feelings towards the sight before you. 

“Um, excuse me! I’m the one who gets called delusional and obsessed with Mando, but look at you!” Ria said with a knowing smirk, clearly where words had failed… your face had betrayed you. “You’re getting flustered over a cosplay!”

You couldn’t even deny it. You were feeling more than a little flustered. It was the first time you had ever seen a Mandalorian in real life. Nothing could have prepared you for it, the presence that the man had, even from this distance. Watching the way he carried himself as he had swaggered down the main hallway had been intoxicating to behold. It was also the way with his T-visor, that you never knew exactly where his eyes were trained. They could be right on you or they could be looking right past you, you would never know. As far as you were concerned, he had picked you out from the crowd, his eyes focusing on you and only you as he walked down the hall. It was an electrifying thought, you felt little bolts of electricity all over your skin. You had half a mind to run up to him and beg him to bring you in warm or cold, he could decide, you really weren’t fussy. 

“Hellooooooo, bestie!” Ria said sarcastically, waving her hand in front of your eye line, which was still trailed off into the distance where the cosplayer had disappeared into the crowd. “Anyone home?” 

“Sorry.” You said, shyly. Now that the Mando cosplay had walked past, you had sadly realised that he was not making a bee-line for you to sweep you off your feet, you felt a little embarrassed. “I just couldn’t stop staring. That was an amazing cosplay.” 

“It was. Or maybe… it was really him!” Ria said, throwing her arms like a conspiracy theorist gif that your groupchat had sent one too many times. 

You both collapsed into full belly laughter at that. Ria was so devoted to the bit at this point that you just went along with it. You silently called a truce: you would stop calling her delusional, it was a fun joke that had distracted your anxious brain from the throngs of people that surrounded you, just beyond the metal railing of your refuge under the stairs. Despite the distraction, they had not magically disappeared.

“The Mando panel isn’t for a couple hours yet. Is there anything you want to do beforehand?” Ria asked, once the two of you had finally stopped laughing. 

“Uh. I don’t know. We could go and have a look around, find where the stages are maybe and then have lunch?” You suggested, not feeling like working your way through the hordes of people by the stalls again. 

So Ria and you did exactly that, getting your bearings and orienting yourself in the massive convention hall. There seemed to be so much to see and do, you were so grateful in that moment that you had splurged on four day passes. It would probably take you four days to walk around the entire thing! Your exploration of the centre meant that by the time the panel came around, you were grateful that you would be able to sit down, you were more than ready to rest your tired, achy legs. 

As you made your way into the room where the panel would be held, you went out of your way to thank the staff on the door. You knew most of the people who worked here were volunteers and a lot of the panel goers were looking straight through them. Manners cost nothing though, a simple “thanks” and a smile and nod were enough to make someone feel valued when they perhaps felt as though they were doing a thankless task. You couldn’t understand why more people wouldn’t take just two seconds to say thank you.

Your heart was thundering as you took a seat in the hall. For a strange moment, you felt as though you were back in a lecture at University. Everyone sizing each other up, wondering where to sit – should they leave a gap or get close to others, maybe strike up a conversation? Personally, you wanted to place as much distance between yourself and others as humanly possible and the thought of speaking to strangers made you freeze up in terror. But Ria, ever the extrovert, was quite happy to strike up a conversation with the guys next to you. 

They were fans of Mando, but you could tell pretty quickly that they were casuals. They did not have the deeper love for the show that you and Ria held. After a few minutes of sitting around, the people who were hosting the panel emerged, walking down the gap between the neatly-arranged chairs to take a seat on the long table that sat on a raised platform so everyone in the room was able to get a good view of them. The room was long but narrow and you and Ria were sitting around 10 rows back. As you glanced behind you, you realised that it had filled up rather quickly. You were glad that you had been here well ahead of the scheduled start time to ensure you got a good seat.

The guys running the panel began messing around with their laptops so they could get the powerpoint they had created on the screen. They were certainly not what you were expecting for this panel. You had expected it to be on a bigger stage, with more fanfare. But it was actually just a small panel hidden away at the back of the convention centre, up a flight of stairs that people might have missed. You had wondered, momentarily, whether you should get up and leave… Yet something was telling you to remain seated and stay. Just because it hadn’t been what you were expecting, didn’t necessarily mean it was going to be a bad thing. The audience seemed to be friendly too, a combination of people who you hoped would ask some thought-provoking questions and wouldn’t turn this all into baseless speculation over who the actor behind Mando really was.

When it got started, though, it soon transpired that this was not going to be the discussion you thought it was. The guys running the panel were sharing their views about Mando as though it was one of the online Star Wars podcasts that you avoided like the plague. There was little room for audience participation. The chair of the panel, a man with a backwards baseball cap on, which was slightly cringeworthy considering he must have been pushing fifty, was called Jeff. 

Jeff was very American, thrashing his limbs around exaggeratedly, imitating Mando’s fight style as his voice got quicker and higher pitched in enthusiasm for the tough warrior. Jeff and his colleagues were definitely the kind of people who watched The Mandalorian just to see him fight bad guys and kill them in cool, new ways. Obviously you enjoyed that too, but there was really so much more to the show and the character than just fighting. You wished that they could see that too, especially considering they were running a damn panel about it!

You were so utterly tuned out by their incessant ramblings that you turned your head towards the back of the room to indulge in a bit of people watching. Principally, to see if the two guys on your row that Ria had chatted to before the panel began were as bored as you were. It seemed that even they were utterly uninterested in Jeff and his buddies. You found that your relative boredom was mirrored on the expressions of numerous others in the room who were just as unenthused by Jeff and co’s surface-level analysis of the show you all loved. You felt at that moment that if you and Ria had somehow been able to lead a panel it would have been much more exciting.

You would have actually introduced some nuance and character analysis as the title of the panel had suggested would happen. Ria’s wild theory that this would be the place that Mando would reveal himself to the world had soon gone out of the window, too. Out of all the places in the world that he could choose (or not) to finally reveal his identity, a room tucked away in the far corner of the Dockside Convention Centre did not seem the most likely.

But your stomach dropped in the familiar way that it had when you were crouched underneath the staircase, catching your breath after the bedlam of entering the Con. 

It was him. 

The same cosplayer was back. 

He was sitting on the last seat in the row, two rows behind and opposite you, perfectly straight with his shoulders back, hands resting on his knees. It was almost uncanny, the way he held himself… it was so much like the way you had witnessed Mando sit so many times on the show. When he visited cantinas or sat in his ship, Mando held himself in an uncannily similar position.

You shook your head, mentally telling yourself to snap out of it – you were being ridiculous! If Ria was thinking these thoughts, you would tell her to stop being crazy. You were usually the grounded, rational one. For even you to be getting caught up in such delusional thinking, well that was truly concerning. Perhaps it was thanks to the early start and crowds. Either way, it seemed as though you were really losing it. 

You blamed it on Mando, all logical thought went straight out of your brain when it came to him. Of course the best Mando cosplayers would be here at this con. It wasn’t really him, but it sure was uncanny how realistic both the cosplay and way he sat was. Extremely uncanny. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, though… because Jeff was asking a question to the audience. One that you were keen to answer honestly and defend the character that you loved so much, with as much ferocity as if he was really listening to your every word.

“So, finally, we wanted to leave a few minutes for discussion about what the character of Mando means to all of you, here. You must be pretty big fans of the show to have found us all the way back up here!” Jeff joked, to a few laughs from the room.

You had gotten the sense since you had walked into this panel that Jeff and his buddies viewed everyone here with a baseline level of contempt. It was something that you couldn’t quite place your finger on, but you felt as though if a person did not entirely agree with his point of view, then he was not impressed by them.It was a shame, really, you loved hearing the opinions of others. Even if you didn’t agree with them, you always found out something new about yourself. 

Jeff had only just finished speaking, and already there was a steady stream of people flocking to queue at the microphone positioned in the aisle. There was nothing on earth that could motivate you to go up there, so you sat, with your arms folded, and leaned back into your chair. This would all be over in a few minutes. Then there would be a hopefully much more interesting panel about historical parallels with Star Wars, something you were truly interested in, that you wanted to check out with Ria. 

The first few audience comments were pretty dull. You disagreed with all of them almost entirely as they again reduced the concept of understanding a character to things such as seeing a face and knowing a name. Jeff just responded hollowly, thanking the speakers for their thoughts. But it did not provoke any deeper discussions like you had been hoping for. 

That was certainly a disappointment, but it was not a reason for you to lose your temper. You just felt slightly numb to the whole experience, wishing it was over as soon as possible and already plotting your route to the next panel. It was dull, but inoffensive.

That was, until the next two speakers boiled your blood with their assumptions and cruel jibes.

“When I first started watching The Mandalorian I loved it. I really thought Star Wars was back!” A man in a Darth Vader hoodie, who was probably in his late thirties, said proudly as he echoed the empty talking points that you had heard over and over since The Mandalorian premiered. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. This guy was clearly someone who thought that Star Wars was all bad now. He probably bought into all the theories that his precious sci-fi franchise had been ruined by women. He continued his tirade: “But now, it’s just the same thing every week. A hollow, emotionless tin can man strutting around from planet to planet, taking guys out. Like, it was cool the first few times but it’s just getting boring now. We need to see his face!” 

Your blood was slowly boiling as you heard all of these hollow criticisms of the show you loved so much. It truly upset you that a place you had believed would be full of fellow fans who would be eager to enthuse about the show alongside you and Ria had been nothing of the sort. Instead of the welcoming, open-minded environment you had expected, things had been wildly different, as the next speaker was about to prove once again. 

The next man who spoke had long brown hair. He was dressed in a Mando t-shirt and jeans. 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the show and all. But I just feel like we don’t know that much about Mando. It’s as if we, as an audience, are being held back from connecting with him fully because of some diva’s selfish demands to keep his identity hidden!” The man exclaimed. Several people laughed and applauded. He was probably around your age but it stunned you how drastically different your opinions on the show could be. Perhaps he spent his time online in different circles than you. In fact, you were almost certain that you had seen these conspiracy theories about Mando’s actor pushed by people who swore it as the gospel truth, even though there was absolutely no proof of it. But he was not done yet, levelling a final cruel jab at the actor who played Mando: “Seriously, the guy who plays him must be such an asshole. Imagine having to work with that guy!” 

Your head was burning… that was too much. Once people got personal about the actor too, that did it for you. It was one thing to criticise the show, but to level insults towards the person behind the character, who clearly did not want his business in the public eye, was enough to compel you to speak up. 

Before you really knew what you were doing, you had somehow risen from your seat, stumbled over a few bags and outstretched legs and now stood in front of the microphone. Jeff looked at you expectantly, the eyes of everyone in the room were on you. Suddenly the gravity of what you were about to do had dawned on you, you felt your pulse thundering in your ears. But then you remembered what the previous guy had said about Mando, and you opened your mouth to launch into a passionate defence of your favourite fictional character of all time.

“I think tying Mando’s identity to his name and face is a pretty narrow way of viewing how we can understand who someone truly is inside and what exactly motivates them. I mean, I think I’ve connected to his character pretty well without ever seeing his face or knowing his real name. That’s because Mando has proved time and time again what kind of man he is. The way he has risked his life multiple times to rid the galaxy of threats and evil shows that he is committed to securing a brighter future, even if he is not around to see it. This man is willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. Sure, we don’t know his name or face or a lot about his origins, but I think to us, that should prove that he has nothing but noble intentions. That human side of the man beneath all of the armour allows us to connect to him on a far deeper level than just seeing a face and learning a name ever could.”

Jeff began to thank you for your thoughts, using the same hollow phrases that he had used for every previous speaker, but you were not done yet. For the reason you had stood up to speak was not only motivated by the way people had spoken about Mando, the character. It was not just accusations against the fictional man that you were here to refute, but also the way that they had tried to turn on the man beneath the Beskar.

“Also, I know no one outside this room will probably ever hear what had been said at this panel, but I think attacking the character of the man who portrays Mando, simply because he wants privacy, is unfair. I think we should always talk about people, online and publicly, as though they can read or hear what we say. We don’t know why he won’t say who he is, but I trust that he has his reasons. Even then, he doesn’t need to have a good reason,” You argued passionately, noticing how the trembling in your voice had ceased the more you spoke. “Everyone is entitled to their privacy for the simple fact of wanting to be private. I just think that we see Mando go from planet to planet, connecting with locals and communicating with them respectfully. He leaves every place better than he found it… I wish more people would take those lessons from the show, too, rather than how skilled Mando is at fighting and killing,” You made a pointed effort to look straight at Jeff as you made that last quip about his fighting skills, but he just stayed slumped in his seat, hand resting under his chin, looking utterly bored. Your words had done nothing to get through to him.

You walked back to your seat, head down, trembling. Speaking that much in public had been a lot more than you would ever have expected yourself to be able to handle. Ria was staring at you dumbfounded, her mouth open in shock.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” Ria asked, astonished.

“I… uh….” You stuttered.

“Look, I knew you loved Mando, but that was insane!” Ria whispered excitedly, while beaming at you. “You defended him as if he was a real person, like he was actually here in the room! That was awesome, beyond badass! He’d be so proud of you, bestie.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, face suddenly feeling hot. You were sure you were visibly shaking after your public outburst. But it had been worth it, you had meant every word.

A few more people offered their thoughts but your head was still buzzing with the emotional exertion of public speaking, so you did not pay them much mind, even if they still repeated the same old tired arguments about Mando that you had just tried to argue against. 

Finally, Jeff drew things to a close and then it was time for everyone to leave. He had invited people to come and speak to him at the front after the panel if they wished to, but you were definitely not going to be taking him up on that offer. You had believed that anyone given such an incredible opportunity to speak about something they loved at an event as prestigious as ForceCon would be nothing less than delighted. But clearly, you were mistaken. Jeff had seemed utterly bored throughout the panel, not least when people he did not agree with had spoken. You were not a fan of him and his backwards baseball cap in the slightest. 

As the panel ended and people began to filter out, you glanced around to where the incredible cosplayer had been sitting. But it seemed that while you had been distracted by your emotional state after speaking so publicly, he had already made his way out. You were disappointed, you wanted to compliment him on his cosplay and maybe even get a picture with him.

Just being in his presence twice had been intoxicating, you had been unable to look away from him. When you saw him, it really felt like you were actually in the world of The Mandalorian. You had a strong desire to be near him again, but you were too late. The man was apparently long gone. But you didn’t want to dwell on that and ruin the rest of your experience. You still had three more days here. So it was time to get over your disappointment, even though you were still kicking yourself for not pointing him out to Ria.

As you made your way down to the main hall of the convention centre, you couldn’t help but feel your chest swell with pride when you remembered how you had spoken in such a surprisingly eloquent manner at the panel. It had really been so many steps out of your comfort zone, but you had proved to yourself that you could do it. This entire weekend, really, was out of your comfort zone. But so far, you were matching every hurdle before you. 

Perhaps speaking up at the panel would be the start of a new, more confident you. A you that was unafraid to stand up for what she believed in.

But then, the idea of a simple panel at a sci-fi convention being some sort of life changing experience was surely an absurd notion.

Wasn’t it?

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction

[bethanydelleman]

Lady Susan Readthrough: Character Analysis, Lady Susan

Words like 'narcissist' and 'psychopath' get thrown around a lot when discussing characters, Lady Susan is the only Jane Austen character who might actually be one. She seems to be entirely void of guilt: specifically remorse for hurting other people. Lady Susan only regrets not winning and getting her way.

However, she does have attachments, which I think is important to point out because everyone is capable of love. Lady Susan is devoted to her friend, even forgiving her for the loss of Reginald. She is also clearly in love with Mr. Mainwaring, or lust; something. Now this is of course problematic because he's married, but she does have strong emotions, she's just entirely missing a moral compass and pity.

Lady Susan is adept at manipulation and very intelligent, the way we see her manipulate Reginald is masterful. Catherine, who is prejudiced against her (rightly) from the beginning, is amazed by how hard it is to believe what she knows to be true. We know from the letters that Lady Susan gets extremely angry during the book but she never lets it show without motive. She is an excellent liar and has very good self command.

Many of these traits are shared with one of Austen's later 'bad' women, Lucy Steele. Lucy is sugar and cream around Lady Middleton and Edward, but shows her true colours to Elinor. (Elinor, like Catherine, is able, even without forewarning, to see that Lucy's pandering is all a façade.) However, I would argue that Lady Susan's powers of persuasion are second to none, Lucy "seduced" a lonely and bored nineteen-year-old and later the very Sir James-esq Robert Ferrars. Lady Susan managed to seduce to proposal a man who had good information against her, and who from his style of writing is pretty intelligent (if passionate).

The one thing we don't see in Lucy Steele, and why I'm hesitant to call her a psychopath, is a complete lack of remorse and cruelty towards her own family. Lady Susan does not love or care for her daughter at all; she feels no guilt about forcing her to marry. Wickham might be the closest in that way to Lady Susan, never showing any remorse for his actions and behaving with that same ease of manner which disgusts both Elizabeth Bennet and Catherine Vernon.

One of the reasons I begrudgingly respect (to a point) both Lucy Steele and Lady Susan is because they are fighting a stupid system with the tools given to them, namely beauty, intelligence, and a complete lack of shame. I probably should feel less sorry for Lady Susan given that she is implied to have recklessly spent all her husband's (and maybe her own) money, but man she's fun! She is the ultimate Gaslight Girlboss. She's got three men wrapped around her finger simultaneously! But to the point, both of these women must marry, and I kind of admire them for trying for the very best deal they can get.

Whether Alicia is a double agent or not, Lady Susan's ultimate failure to capture Reginald is based on her own weakness, she can't get over Mainwaring. The master manipulator is defeated by her own feelings, as much as she despises the weakness of feeling in others. I really wish we knew more about Mainwaring because I want to know what makes him so awesome!

[ithappensblog]

nice to meet you

Hi, I’m Jenny and welcome to my blog. In this post, I want to share with you some of the highlights and challenges of my life so far, and how I’m trying to find my purpose and happiness in this world.

I’m almost 34 years old and still struggling to figure out my life. Aren't we all? I’ve gone to school for a diploma program in Medical Laboratory Technician/Phlebotomy, a diploma program for Accounting Technician, and started my Human Resource Management diploma program too. I’ve always wanted to be an RN but, life and my body had other plans for me. I’ve always been interested in learning new things and pursuing different careers, and I've finally found one which fulfills me. I have a really good job now, but I’m not really supposed to talk about what I do so I’m going to leave that part out, but it’s finally something I’m good at and something I enjoy doing. It pays well and gives me flexibility and stability. It also challenges me and allows me to use my skills and creativity.

I have a husband who I’ve been with for 10 years now. Jason has helped me grow into a much better person and loves me unconditionally. He supports me in everything I do and encourages me to follow my dreams. I have 2 stepsons who have given me a run for my money but I still love them both at the end of the day. They are growing up so fast and I’m proud of the young men they are becoming. After an incredibly challenging fertility journey, I have my almost 5 year old daughter who is bright, caring, funny, and wise beyond her years. She is the light of my life and the reason I smile every day. I always tell her she saved my life, and it's true, but I won't tell her how until she's much older.

I have a passion for traveling and exploring new places. We try to do a big family vacation once a year and just this year decided that one trip a year should be spent nurturing our relationship. I love animals and have two dogs and three cats who keep me company and make me laugh. I’m on a journey to self love after spending my entire life as an overweight underdog. I’ve struggled with my body image and self-esteem for as long as I can remember, but I’m learning to accept myself and love myself for who I am. I have a daughter now, and I owe it to her to be kind to myself as the way I behave in front of her will be a reflection of how she treats her own body.

I live with many invisible illnesses both mentally and physically but try my best to get through every day. Some of the conditions I deal with are anxiety, depression, PTSD, OCD, ADHD, insulin resistent PCOS, Chronic Kidney Disease, chronic fatigue syndrome, migraines, and more. Yeah, I know, it fucking sucks. But, I'm definitely not here to gain pity for my health problems. By looking at me, you'd think the only problem I'd had in my life was enjoying one too many cheeseburgers. Some days are better than others, but some days are really hard. I try to be positive and optimistic, but sometimes I feel hopeless and overwhelmed. I’m grateful for the support of my family, friends, doctors, therapists, and online communities who help me cope and understand that I’m not alone.

I grew up in Guelph, Ontario and ventured back to Sudbury, Ontario after leaving my now ex-husband which was the best decision I’ve ever made. He was an interesting choice to say the least, and for the longest time I felt so trapped. It took me a long time to gather the courage to leave him, but when I did, I felt free and empowered. It was a turning point in my life that led me to meet my current husband and start a new chapter.

I’m thankful for this beautiful life I live. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. And it’s full of love, laughter, learning, adventure, growth, gratitude, and hope. Thank you for reading this post even though you're probably rolling your eyes at yet another new overnight brainchild. But I'm going to try to use this as an outlet to heal and grow from the shit life throws my way, and hopefully inspire others to do the same along the way.

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 3,064

Please comment and interact...it's what keeps this blog going

***************************

Almost a week had passed since you stayed with Cillian at his unit in Galway and, despite the fact that he was away, things had further developed between you as emotions grew with every day.

He was different to any man you had ever been involved with and, whilst your involvement with each other stemmed from purely sexual lust and hunger, you had evolved from this to something different entirely within a matter of days.

Of course, you knew each other for years and, whilst you had a crush on Cillian for as long as you could remember, you never thought that it would be like this and, for Cillian, this feeling had never been mutual.

Whilst he always considered you to be attractive and very intelligent and kind, he never felt any emotional connection or sexual attraction towards you, at least not until that weekend when you visited Denise, which was also the first time he saw you again after six months had passed.

On that night during which you slept with each other, he let his sexual hunger take over his reasonable thinking mind after he saw you, in his kitchen, making pancakes and you had since, quite openly, talked about it. He saw sleeping with you as a mistake but, ever since that night, he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For you, things weren’t just sexual anymore and you began to feel strongly for Cillian which worried you especially since he was open about the fact that he didn’t know where things were heading with you. The fact that you are his daughter’s friend and much younger than him clearly bothered him and he sometimes admitted to you that he felt strange about building such a strong connection with you. A relationship was not what he wanted but he liked you, a lot.

As such, during the past week, Cillian called you every day after he finished filming and you were talking to him more frequently than you were talking to Denise.

During his breaks, he would also text you and check in on you as you were in the middle of exams. He always remembered when you had a test and asked you how it went and, when you told him that you didn’t feel confident with your results, he reassured you that you probably did well and, even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. According to him, a pass is a pass and you needed to lower your expectations of yourself just a little.

To your surprise, he also remembered appointments you had scheduled and things that bothered you which meant that, unlike other men you had been with, he was actually listening and was interested in what you had to say.

Some nights, you had spent hours on the phone or Skype, joking about things you had encountered that day or talking about books, literature and music, which is something you both enjoyed.

Politics and social issues were other matters you could discuss endlessly and, even when you were of different opinions, you would be able to argue in the most satisfying way. Cillian always treated you as an equal and even opened up to you about his divorce from Denise’s mother recently.

Another thing you learned from Cillian was that Denise was brining along her friend Amalie to Manchester to stay at his apartment and, when you gave him a warning about her and her intentions, he reminded you that he only had eyes for you. In fact, he always showered you with compliments and all of his compliments were genuine and came natural to him, helping you immensely with your self-consciousness.

Unfortunately, whilst you enjoyed how engaging Cillian was with you every day, like a teenager in love, with the constant text messages and calls, your father soon got suspicious and confronted you about.

****

“Dad, I am almost 22, you don’t need to be spying on me” you said somewhat frustrated as he asked you who you were talking to every day.

“You live under my roof and you answer me young lady” he said harshly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes just as your mother stepped in, trying to calm him down. Your father was much older, approaching sixty and fairly old school in the way he expected you and your sister to behave.

“A friend…I am talking to a friend” you explained and your father asked again, telling you not to lie to him because he would know.

“And this friend of yours, you can’t meet him…you just text and talk? You can’t bring him to our house and introduce him?” your father asked along with a million other questions.

“No, I can’t. he lives in Dublin and I, most certainly, wouldn’t bring him into this…” you said somewhat irritated by the interrogation.

“Dublin, huh? So, you met him when you visited Denise?” he asked and you nodded.

“It’s not her brother, is it? Because I really don’t want you to get involved with him. I don’t like this family and their views” your father said harshly, causing you to chuckle.

“Their views?” you asked somewhat surprised and your father nodded.

“Yes, their views on what’s right and wrong. If I recall correctly, this girl you call your friend was going out with someone of the same gender for a while. God didn’t tell us to do this but her parents obviously didn’t have an issue with it which, apparently is called new age parenting. Everything is pro choice and lets their children decide what is best for them even if they lack experience” your father went on to say and you couldn’t help but shake your head at his absurd commentary but, he continued and you soon learned what had happened between your parents and Denise’s parents many years ago, before which your mother had called Denise’s mother her friend as well.

According to your father, Cillian had voiced his opinion to your father when it was found out that your sister was pregnant following a short affair with a man she had met through university.

Cillian’s ex wife had told your sister that she had options, causing your father to get rather angry with her, which is when Cillian stepped in, supporting what Denise’s mother had said.

She had offered your sister help but your father considered this to be a betrayal and, whilst your mother maintained contact with Denise’s mother for a while, your father refused to get involved with Denise’s family thereafter.

Cillian’s often all so public views angered him and he made this very clear. He didn’t want you to be involved with his children and you couldn’t help but laugh about the irony of it all when you found out about this incident.

“Jesus Dad, that was years ago and not everyone has to have the same views as you” you said before confirming that you weren’t seeing Denise’s brother.

“No, they don’t, but I am just looking out for you and, instead of acting the way you do, throwing yourself at guys with new age ideas, I would much prefer if you met a nice young catholic man” your father explained, causing your mother to fume in anger with him.

“Throwing myself at guys? Listen, I am not sure what slut you think I am but it’s nice to know that you think so little of me” you said before storming upstairs and into your room.

Having to deal with this crap bothered you and you knew that, when this semester came to an end, you could be moving out now that you saved enough money for a bond and rent.

*****

As the evening went on, you spent all of your time in your room, reading a book until, finally, at around 9 o’clock you saw a notification on Skype.

‘Hey Beautiful’ Cillian said as you picked up and popped in your headphones.

Cillian apologised for calling through so late and informed you that he was finally able to speak to Laura, the woman he was seeing before you.

He knew that you wanted to know about it and he had no problem telling you what you needed to hear while telling you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about.

It was Laura’s first day back on set after a week-long break and Cillian told you that she wasn’t exactly impressed when he stood her down.

‘She probably likes you…I can understand that’ you said calmly but Cillian told you that he was pretty clear with her about what this was between them.

‘Well, in retrospect, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her’ he went on and you were quite happy to change the topic by this point and told him that you were aching for him.

‘Well, I am not sure that I can help you with that’ Cillian chuckled.

‘We could have Skype sex I suppose’ you giggled.

‘Skype Sex?’ Cillian laughed before telling you that he didn’t think that this would be a good idea since you were at home with your parents and you had previously complained about the thin walls of the house.

‘Oh Jesus Cillian, my father already thinks I am a slut, so I personally don’t care if anyone hears me getting myself off. I’ve got my earphones in and am the only one who can hear you and my door is locked’ you chuckled.

‘Your father thinks that you are a slut? Do you want to talk about that?’ Cillian asked concerned but you shook your head.

‘I rather not. You met him and know what he is like’ you explained.

‘I do. He takes God very seriously’ Cillian said before continuing on. ‘But, if you have problems at home you need to tell me please. You can stay at my apartment. I can get my house keeper to meet you there with the key’ he offered.

‘You said you were going to stay out of stuff between me and my parents just as I would stay out of matters between you and Denise’ you then said, reminding him on the conversation about your respective roles which you had three days ago.

‘Yes I did, but I can’t if I have to worry about you’ Cillian said firmly.

‘There is no need to worry Cillian. I promise’ you reassured him. ‘Well, actually, I need you to worry about my sexual needs right now’ you then went on to say with sly grin.

‘Through Skype?’ Cillian asked again somewhat concerned.

‘Yes’ you said with a cheeky smile as you settled more into your bed with your laptop.

‘Alright then, show me what you are wearing” Cillian said as he cut straight to the point.

‘Can you see?’ you asked as you adjusted the cam and showed Cillian your dark blue lingerie.

‘Very nice…but…I think you would look even better if you were naked, don’t you think?’ Cillian said somewhat nervously and you nodded in agreement.

‘Well, I suppose I should strip for you and you should strip for me’ you giggled as you seductively took off your bra slowly, showing Cillian your perky breasts through the camera.

You heard him inhale sharply as he watched you and took his t-shirt off at the same time, leaving him in nothing but his CK briefs.

Without words you then scooted back on the bed and removed your undies, allowing him to watch before you sat down on the bed, spread eagle and naked, giving him a good view of your mound.

‘Jesus Y/N, you are so fucking beautiful and sexy…touch yourself for me, nice and slow’ Cillian breathed out and you let his soothing voice wash over you, knowing what he was trying to do and happily helping him succeed.

‘Like this?’ you moaned as you began to run circles over your clit with your fingers.

‘Yes, just like that babe’ Cillian groaned as he shuffled down his briefs and you were finally getting a good look of his hard cock.

‘Oh god, I want to stroke your cock so badly’ you moaned as you seductively opened your pussy lips with your fingers, opening yourself up before reaching for the black vibrator you kept in your bedside table.

‘Well, someone's particularly horny tonight’ Cillian chuckled as he watched you play with your pussy, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You mumbled a small "mhm," and he laughed.

‘Good, that's exactly how I like you, so naughty and needy’ Cillian said as he slowly began to stroke his hard member.

You barely registered his words enough to answer with another "mhm," but your subconscious managed it. Your weak answer elicited another delicious chuckle from the other end of the line.

"Why don't you show me how this little toy of yours works?” Cillian then asked as he watched you eagerly.

“I was just waiting for you to ask” you giggled as you began to run your fingers along your stomach and back up to your chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps their wake before reaching for the vibrator and turning it on.

“Put into your sweet pussy babe, let me see it” Cillian groaned and you moan in response, barely processing his words but still understanding enough to answer and do what he asked.

"I bet your pussy is already dripping” he said as you slid the vibrator into you slowly. He was right, you could feel your wetness pooling.

“I am so fucking wet and I wish it would be your cock inside me” you moaned as you began to stroke the toy in and out of you.

Cillian was groaning on the other side, his eyes full of lust and desire for you and you let out a quiet moan as you watched him with the same desire and hunger while you were pleasuring yourself.

“Good girl, keep going…” Cillian tells you and you moan again hearing it.

“Tell me how much you are aching for my cock” he then said you moaned again.

“I want your cock so badly, fuck…I want your cum inside me, dripping out of my wet little pussy” you moaned, eliciting a groan from Cillian as he began to stroke his cock harder and faster.

“Such a naughty needy girl, aren’t you? I can’t wait to be inside you again and make you cum over and over again” Cillian said with a laboured breath and you are barely listening at this point.

“I want you to cum for me and show me this dripping pussy when you do…I fucking love hearing your moans, so fucking sexy…common babe….let go” Cillian said, knowing that you were close and your orgasm rolled over you as soon as the word 'cum' left his lips, and although your sensitive clit was screaming at your hand to stop, you couldn't.

‘Oh god fuck, yes…’ you moaned as you came hard and fast.

“That’s it babe, don’t stop” he instructed as your moans continuously spilled from your mouth, and you were not even sure what you were saying or if you were forming words at all. The only thing in your head is a deliciously heavy fog and Cillian’s voice guiding you to do what he wanted.

“Don’t stop, keep fucking your sweet little pussy babe” Cillian ordered as he knew you weren’t done and, just as he did, you let out a high-pitched moan, bordering on a scream, as an even stronger orgasm washed over your body.

‘Cum for me babe…I want to see all this cum’ you moaned in return, focusing on the delicious image in front of you as Cillian was stroking his cock and, just when you finally come back down you heard Cillian groan loudly.

“Fuck” he groaned as he stroked his cock hard and fast you watched rope after rope of cum spurt onto his stomach.

‘Oh god, what a waste, I want to lick your cum off your skin so badly” you breathed out as Cillian came down from his high slowly and used a tissue to clean himself up.

‘Stop saying those things or you have to stay on the line for another twenty minutes at least’ Cillian chuckled as he could feel his manhood stir again.

‘Well, I think you shouldn’t cum again until you come to visit me in Galway the weekend after next…I want you to save it all for me’ you said, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow as he pulled his briefs back up.

‘Fat chance babe’ he chuckled, knowing that going without an orgasm for nine days would be rather difficult for him.

Eventually, after a lot of begging, he agreed to try but he wouldn’t be able to make you any promises to this effect.

***

The following day, you went to work and then university thereafter but, when you eventually returned home, your father was in a worse mood than ever before.

‘Can you explain this to me?’ he asked angrily as soon as you walked through the door and you couldn’t help but gulp when he pointed to a white box which he had placed on the living room table.

‘You went through my personal belongings’ you huffed out as the box contained some lingerie and intimate items, including toys, that you were hiding in the bottom of your dresser.

‘Again Y/N, this is my house, my rules and I don’t want my daughter to own filth like this’ he said, after having heard small pieces of your conversation with Cillian on Skype the evening before.

It was obvious to you that your father was appalled and you were outraged that he had been snooping through your room and, as you would later learn, had even tried to access your computer.

‘I can’t fucking believe you dad. These are my personal belongings and you have no right to go through them’ you huffed out and, just as you did, you could feel a sharp strike across your face.

‘Get this shit out of my house and talk to me with some respect’ he said harshly, leaving you speechless and in tears as he walked away, leaving your cheek burning red.

   Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 66: Bond

There was a certain bond that formed between two people when all of your friends were paired off and dating someone. When the two of you were the only single people so you got paired off to share food, and be partners in games, and all other manner of things.

Harry supposed that tonight would be just one more of those nights as he arrived at Ginny and Luna's. And he wasn't complaining (not anymore, at least) it had taken a couple of years but he and Draco had warmed up to each other. They had compatible styles for partner games, Draco always gave Harry any treats with nuts and Harry gave him any treats with mint, and Harry genuinely enjoyed his dry sense of humor.

If he was being honest, he'd started looking forward to all of the time that he got to spend with Draco on Friday nights.

But things felt different the moment he entered the house, even though he couldn't quite put his finger on why. He spotted Ginny first, standing against the counter, pouring a couple glasses of wine, "Hey," he called.

She looked up and bit her lip.

"What?" he asked with no small amount of dread. He knew that look; it was the look she'd given him right before she'd told him she might be gay and in love with Luna, a look that said she was afraid of breaking his heart.

Ginny opened her mouth but no words came out.

"Ginny, what?" he said, taking several steps toward her.

"I don't know how to say thi-"

"Oh, good," he heard Draco say from behind him, "You're here."

His mouth stretched into a grin even before he turned around "He-" he broke off when he saw that Draco was standing with his arm around some bloke who Harry had never met before. "Hey," he finished.

"This is Matt," Draco offered.

And frankly, Harry would rather die (again) than shake his hand but before he could have any say in the matter Matt had stepped forward into his space and was gripping his hand. Hard. "The Harry Potter," he drawled. "My, my."

(Read more below the cut)

Harry glanced over at Draco who looked vaguely uncomfortable.

"Draco has told me so much about you. I could hardly believe that he was telling the truth." He leaned toward Harry conspiratorially, "He's known for embellishing the truth, you know?"

Harry wrenched his hand from Matt's grip, "Actually, I've found Draco to be honest to a fault. Hardly anyone else will tell me when my outfit doesn't match or I've got something stuck in my teeth."

Matt's eyes flashed and Harry's proverbial hackles stood on end he didn't like that look, "I-" Matt started

"Hey," Draco said, taking Matt's hand and drawing his attention, "Let me introduce you to everyone else."

"Nice meeting you, Mark," Harry called.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him, "Matt," he corrected, before mouthing, 'behave' at Harry.

"My mistake," Harry said, maintaining eye contact with the other man until he turned away and followed Draco into the other room.

"Okay," Ginny said, drawing his attention away from them, "First. Men are disgusting; I can't believe I thought I was attracted to them for so long."

"What?" he asked, slumping over to the counter and sliding onto a stool across from where Ginny was still mixing up drinks. He was feeling a little nauseous, fire rushing under his skin.

"That," she said, gesturing to where Harry had been standing talking to Matt and Draco, "The little pissing match to decide who's dominant."

"What?" Harry asked, "that guy is just an asshole."

She rolled her eyes, "Second, you're still an idiot."

"Wow. I'm just going to go home," he said. "Between you and the dude who was trying to break my fingers, I don't think it's going to be a great night."

Ginny leaned across the counter and instinctively Harry leaned toward her, "How long are you going to continue denying you have feelings for Draco?"

His brow furrowed, "I don't. We're just mates," he added.

"I rest my case. You're still an idiot," she said as she leaned back and started mixing drinks again.

Harry slouched on his stool turning that thought over in his mind, "That actually would make sense," he admitted.

"Harry, I love you, you know I do," she said. "But honestly, I can't believe you're just figuring this out. The rest of us have known for ages. We were all shocked when he walked through the door with Matt; he told us he was bringing someone but we thought the two of you were just making a joke."

"Well now what am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Why couldn't anyone have said something sooner?"

"Because we thought it was obvious," she hissed.

"Let's just get through the night," he sighed. "Then we'll deal with the rest. We'll need to come up with a plan."

-----------

He spent the rest of the night calling Matt the wrong name (Miles, Maurice, Mike, Max, Moses, Mitch, Mason) to the point that Ron either caught on and decided to help or got confused enough that he started calling him the wrong name, too. Harry also couldn't help but rub it in Matt's face how much better he knew Draco; telling inside jokes, asking Draco specific questions about his work and his parents, and reminiscing about fond memories.

Draco seemed a bit exasperated by it but Harry couldn't help himself. Once he started, he just couldn't seem to stop.

Eventually as everyone was getting ready to leave and Luna was saying good bye to Matt, Draco cornered him, "Do not move a fucking muscle," he hissed, "I am not done with you."

"Dra-"

"I mean it, Potter. Stay right here," he said, jabbing him in the chest with his finger before he turned and made his way over to his date.

"Hey," Matt said, smiling at him much the way Harry imagined an alligator might smile at his prey.

"Hi," Draco replied softly. "I'll floo you tomorrow, yeah? There are a few things I need to take care of."

Matt frowned, "I thought we were going back to my place."

"No," Draco replied steadily. "I have a five date rule." He stepped back, "I'll floo you," he repeated.

And Matt looked pretty pissed about it, but he seemed to take the hint and disapparated on the spot without so much as a goodbye to anyone.

"You're all the literal worst," Draco fumed. "Except you, Luna," he added. "You're a goddess."

Luna gave a little curtsy.

"Seriously," Draco said, glaring at the room even though none of them looked especially repentant. "And you," he spat, spinning to glare at Harry, "You're the worst of all."

"Does that make me special?" Harry quipped, arms folded across his chest.

Draco groaned, "Bloody fucking Griffyndors. I hope you're all happy," he grabbed Harry's arm. "Come on we are going back to mine to have a chat."

"I thought you had a five date rule," Ginny called.

Draco flipped her the two finger salute before apparating them to his house.

Harry always liked being in Draco's house; it was small and cozy, and it always smelled vaguely like chamomile. Just being here made his soul feel lighter, calmer.

"Alright," Draco growled, "Spill. What the hell was that?"

"What?" Harry asked innocently.

"Potter," he warned.

Harry sighed, "He's an asshole."

"And you know that how? You didn't even give him a chance".

"Draco his handshake was like a vice!"

Draco stared at him, "You've got to be kidding me. Are you that much of a child? He hurt your hand so you thought you should bully him?"

"I didn't bully him!" Harry exclaimed.

"No?" Draco asked. "You didn't use his given name even once." Harry winced, maybe that was overkill. "You spent the entire night trying to make him feel stupid and inferior to you. Which, let's face it, everyone does anyway because you're Harry fucking Potter!" Draco exploded.

"That's not fair," Harry said, betrayal slicing hot through his gut. Draco knew that he hated being famous, hated the preconceived notions attached to his name.

"Yeah well, neither was what you did."

"Draco, I-"

"No," he said, holding out a hand, "That was such bullshit, Harry."

"But he's awful."

"You didn't even give him a cha-"

"I didn't have to!" he exploded. "The first words he said to me were to disrespect you. He's an asshole and I will chase a million of them away from you."

"That's not your job."

Harry threw his hands up in the air, "I'm your best friend! Whose job is it, if it's not mine?"

"You don't just get to decide things for me!" Draco cried.

"Fine," Harry spat. "You want to date that wanker, go ahead. But I have seen his type before. Don't come crying to me when he's beaten you to a bloody pulp for looking at someone the wrong way." He pushed past Draco and made his way to the door, walking out and slamming it behind him.

He started down the sidewalk, debating trying to figure out where Matt lived and have a chat or maybe go over to Ron and Hermione's to get some advice and regroup.

But the further he walked, the more the anger faded from his veins, and the guilt settled in.

There was no choice really, he turned around and headed back to Draco's house once more. When he arrived he knocked on the door even though he normally would have just let himself in.

"Go away!" Draco shouted.

He knocked again, "Draco, please."

"No! Go away. You're the worst."

"I know," he called back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Please."

After a few seconds, during which fear settled heaving in Harry's gut, the door opened and Harry slipped inside, Draco was curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest.

Seeing him looking so small and sad made Harry ache. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Which part?" Draco asked bitterly.

He sighed and came over to sit on the couch beside Draco, "I'm not sorry for chasing him away. But I will always be here for you, no matter what. You can always come to me."

Draco leaned over and put his head on Harry's shoulder, "I know," he whispered.

"Forgive me?"

He nodded and they sat together in silence for a few minutes, both trying to collect their thoughts. Eventually Harry said, "I really wish you wouldn't date him."

Draco sat up, "Harry look at me."

Harry turned on the couch to look at him and raised his eyebrows.

"I won't ever floo call him, we'll never go on another date, and I'll never see him again." Something eased in Harry's chest. "But it's not because of what you said or did. It's because I, too, have had shitty relationships. I have also lived through trauma and I have had to learn from it just like you."

Harry looked down at his hands.

"And if you have concerns about someone, there is a better way to tell me than what you did tonight."

He nodded, suitably chastised, "You're right."

"I appreciate your concern, though," he added and Harry looked up to see that Draco's mouth was quirked up, he really must be forgiven, apparently. "And I genuinely forgot how petty you can be."

He shook his head and reached out for Draco's hand, "Draco, I want you to be so, so happy," he said. Then he added, "I'm an idiot."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"And everyone knows it, you included, so you can't really hold it against me," he said.

"I'm pretty sure I can."

He huffed, "Just hear me out. I'm an idiot and I didn't realize until tonight that I'm a little bit in love with you. And it's fine if you don't feel the same but you are my best friend and I had high standards for you even before I knew I had feelings for you. It hurt me to see you with someone who treated you so poorly."

"Sorry," Draco said, "I need you to repeat that."

"I said, I'm an idiot," Harry started.

"Not that part."

"It hurt me to see you with someone who treated y-"

"Not that part either," Draco said.

Harry swallowed, "It's fine if you don't fee-"

"Harry," he grumbled. "Say the other part."

He rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm in love with you," he whispered.

Draco blinked at him, a smile blooming at the corner of his mouth, "Say it again."

A grin tipped up the corners of his mouth as well, "I'm in love with you."

Draco launched himself into Harry's arms and covered Harry's lips with his own, "say it again," he mumbled into the kiss.

"I love you," Harry repeated, murmuring the words into Draco's mouth.

Draco pulled back slightly, "I love you, too."

"I hoped that was the case," Harry replied.

After he kissed him again, Draco said, "Alright, fine. Now you get a say in who I date."

Harry grinned, "Is that so?"

He nodded.

"Will you date me, Draco Malfoy?" he asked, brushing his nose along Draco's.

"Yes," he whispered. Then with a smirk he added, "But we'll have to get my best friend's approval and rumor has it that he has very high standards."

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

Day 65: Question | Day 67: Soulmate (Take 1)- Your traditional soulmate trope or Day 67: Soulmate (Take 2)- just using the word 'soulmate' as a prompt, not the trope.

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; chapter two

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: torture, nightmares, angst, let me know if there's anything else :) 

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: honestly I have no clue where I’m going but I’m hoping you’re all still following. There’s still soooo much to go into readers past and yep, it’s gonna take a while but I hope you enjoy this. Please feel free to give feedback, like and repost it would mean a lot! :)

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

1943

Your head felt groggy, as you woke up. Not enough energy from an ounce of your body to open your eyes for the time being. The more your body woke up from the darkness of slumber the more the pounding of aches and pains became less subtle and started to fill each and every muscle. You weren’t sure where you were or what had happened, but you suddenly became aware that your surroundings weren’t familiar. The air was too cool and there was an eeriness from lack of noise.

Finally, you were able to pry your eyes open. The colours swirled around you into one, until they became to create recognisable shapes. Although this wasn’t somewhere you recognised, just as your mind had thought even before getting to look around.

You were laid down on a metal ‘bed’ if you could even call it a bed. The coolness of the metal began to get to you a shiver running down your spine and you attempted to get up. Only to be restricted. It was now when you noticed you had straps holding your ankles, down, but not only this; there was a limpness to your form. In fact, you didn’t have any real connection to your muscles. As if a switch had been turned on in your head you realised, this wasn’t a bed. It was a table.

Suddenly your anxiety rose. In an ill attempt to do something you turned you head groggily to the left, only to be met with machines, and hospital devices. You took in a sharp breath. This definitely wasn’t a hospital so why the machines? Rolling your head to the right with just as much difficultly as last time you were met with darkness. The faint sound of feet shuffling in the distance, and the whirring of more machines.

Almost as if whoever it was had realised you were awake, a bright white light turned on above you causing you to groan from the sudden contrast to the previous darkness. The footsteps became louder, as whoever it was approached you from their hiding spot.

“Ah you’re awake,” the voice started, “you know you gave our men quite a difficult time back there. Are you going to behave this time?”

Your voice barely was able to respond, only a hushed whisper came out, “Who are you? Where am I?” This worked to rejog your memory as you saw flashes of men running after you, as you had leapt from this same table. You had gotten pretty far and fought back fairly well but this place… whatever it was; was a maze. Realising now that amongst being kidnapped and knocked unconscious. Your first attempt to escape was probably why you were in pain all over. A vision of a few men jumping on top of you and beating you unconscious. Again. That must have been why you were tied down this time.

“I think you know the answer to that.” the small man with glasses responded appearing finally out of the darkness. “…We’re HYDRA, and you y/n...” He spoke reaching under your chin in a condescending manner. “…Were firstly going to be a pawn against your stupid Captain America. But you’ve shown promise, something our other soldiers don’t have.  Neither your American ones. My guess is it comes from your ballet training.” He shrugged as he moved away from you, turning and looking for something. Suddenly his hand was on a switch and machines began to rumble.

“Please,” you responded choking on your own words, “please just kill me!” You knew something was coming, otherwise why would be so aloof.

He chuckled at your words as he stood behind you. “The red skull doesn’t want me to do that, he needs more soldiers, and that’s exactly what we’re going to make you.” And with that you saw a metal machine slowly being dropped down over your left eye, and below your right jaw, causing your panic to rise. As quick as the unbearable pain started, so did darkness.

Present day ; 2017

You woke up screaming as the pain of what had happened almost a century ago shot through your entire body. You fumbled out of bed in a sweat like you did most nights. Heading towards your small kitchen in your small apartment. It was filled with greys, no life within in, you felt there was no need, why celebrate a life with no life?

Your life had changed in so many ways after 1943. You were one of HYDRA’S many toys, the many men that surrounded you called you tiny dancer, but not in a kind way, in a misogynistic arrogant way. Most people at that time though saw you as a weapon, something to be feared of, and they should have.

After you had stumbled upon the Winter Soldier on a mission in 2014 working as a freelance agent having cut your ties with HYDRA mere months before hand, it was only a few months when so had Captain America. From what you had heard amongst assassins under the radar living in Madripoor like you, it hadn’t gone well for HYDRA and now the Winter Soldier was nowhere to be found, invoking fear within many who had made themselves enemies to him. But you were sure his best friend would be looking for him. Whilst you had decided to go against helping him, Steve was not that kind of person.

Time had not been kind to you, you were no longer the frail girl who could fall in love in a week. In fact, you weren’t sure if you actually could feel love anymore. HYDRA had to make sure there was no collateral. Still once you saw him that night you wondered how amongst your many years with HYDRA, how you had never run into Bucky: The Winter Soldier. You had heard of the winter soldier, but you never knew it was Bucky behind the ghost of a person. Probably on purpose, HYDRA had been in your mind. Tthere was no doubt they knew who he was to you back then.

Not only did it invoke these thoughts, but it had led to your retirement. Well not your retirement, you were still about 25 years old on the outside, and though nor Steve or Bucky knew you were alive you knew how it felt to be in their position.

Hiding out in your small apartment in Madripoor was where you had spent most of your life since 2014, staying on the down low in case HYDRA somehow re-emerged, looking for revenge on a project they had wasted so much time on. You.  

You weren’t sure why they were so surprised people like you hated them with so much anger. They had taken your life, Bucky’s life and made you weapons against your will. You didn’t hold their values, it was forced upon you.

You shook yourself from your thoughts again. You only got sentimental after nightmares, and the nightmares had been pretty continuous after seeing Bucky those few years ago, so really you were sentimental most mornings. You think it had something to do with seeing him and how it brought back memories you didn’t even know you had.

Reaching for a bottle of water, you took a sip looking over at the clock that read 3am. You groaned, knowing that you’d probably never have a good night’s sleep again. Terrible payback for a terrible past. No sleep for the wicked.

You shuffled yourself back to your room getting into bed and turning on the tv as a way to mindlessly distract yourself until you actually had to do stuff.

A few hours past until it was 7am, and you decided you could at least go for a shower before your day at work. Working at a bar that opened at 9am wasn’t exactly high class living; especially when you had to deal with drunks so early in the day, so it definitely required more motivation than most jobs. You couldn’t do what you were originally good at, dance. And you’d decided you probably shouldn’t be doing what you were trained for. Killing people.

Turning on the shower to allow it to warm up, you rid yourself of your clothes, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles were after another bad dream. Stepping in you let the water try and wash it away, and though it did help you knew it would only reappear tonight in another form of a nightmare. You closed your eyes sighing in content, and it did last for a brief moment until you heard banging on your front door.

At first you tried to ignore it, but it got louder and more aggravated and suddenly your heart had fell to your stomach, resorting to thinking of the worst that could be behind that door. Getting out you threw some clothes back on. You reached under your bed grabbing your shot gun, holding it close to yourself as you slowly walked towards the door that had started banging again. Times like this you wished you had a peep hole to look through.

You turned on your best poker face and opened the door abruptly to be more hostile. Only you were met with someone you didn’t know, though for some reason you felt you recognised. On the other side of the door stood a woman all in black, her hair was in a blonde bob and for a brief second you thought you saw a reaction flash across her face like she knew you too.

“Is this y/n?” she spoke firmly and with poise.

You raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Is it?” she returned her poker face staying on her face.

“Yes.” You huffed, the half-amused face falling from your face, returning back to the glare you constantly wore. “Who are you?”

She raised her hand for you to shake her face accompanying it with a small smile, which you hesitantly took.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel​ @thatredlipped-classic​ @flightsandfantasy​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @rebelemilu​ 

[nightfrostshadow]

Tricked

Prompt by @nuttynutcycle

"I'm actually surprised what a good team we make. Supervillain didn't even see us coming." The hero said, thrusting Supervillain's detonator in the villain's direction. "Mind holding this?" He fumbled to get his jacket on.

The villain nodded absentmindedly, reaching out to grab the device. A hand slammed on top of hers and forced the button down. The resounding boom shook the ground and drowned out the following screams. Her mouth gaped. "What did you DO?"

He grinned back. "No, what did YOU do?"

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

Villain threw the detonator away with trembling hands as she stumbled back. As far as she could get from the hero. She was shocked but realised she needed to get out of there immediately. She could not afford to worry about anything else. She turned around and took off at top speed but suddenly she felt a sharp sting in her neck. She gasped as she realized what happened.

She ran faster as she pulled it out struggling to get as far away as possible before it took effect. Sadly, she was slowing down as slowly couldn’t feel her legs anymore. She stumbled and fell to the ground. She stared with anger as Hero approached her. Slowly, leisurely for she was going nowhere. She glared at him. Oh if only looks could kill. This would have never happened but unfortunately, he had caught her off guard.

By now Hero had come close enough so she could see his face. His expression was completely different now. He had a smug look as he brandished the dart gun in front of her. He laughed, “Didn’t expect this did you? It took me quite some time to figure out a way to trick you. You never trust people easily yet you finally did and look where that got you.”

Hero smirked and at that moment he was not looking very heroic to Villain. He was looking like a villain. One far worse than any she had encountered.

Hero smiled a sinister smile, “Well, I’ve got to take you in for setting off that detonator now. You’ll pay for your crimes.”

That was the last thing Villain heard and saw before her limbs went completely limp and her vision faded and she was out.

When she awoke she was in a completely different place.  She was sitting in a cold metal chair and had been chained to it by the ankle. She vaguely wondered why they thought they could keep her there only with a single chain when she felt something. The lack of her powers and strength. She glanced down and saw a thin bracelet encircling her wrist. It felt like lead on her wrist.

Its appearance was deceptive. It was made of an almost unbreakable metal and also drained her powers and strength thus making it impossible to break unless removed with its specific key. She looked around. She was in a cold bare room. She sighed. At least it was clean. She could plan her escape here.

A moment later the door opened and Hero entered along with Superhero and some other people from their little organization. Villain stared coldly at Hero taking note of how his expression was so different now. He looked like a hero who had just captured a villain and saved the world. Not an ounce of the malice and spite in his eyes that she had seen before.

Superhero pulled out another chair that was present in the room and sat on it right in front of her. She reclined as best as she could on the chair she was seated on. She could make it her throne temporarily. She spoke with a wry smile, “What brings you here? Most importantly why am I here?”

Superhero stared at her. “Do you not know what you did? Luckily Hero was able to capture you so you could answer for your crimes. It was a pity he was too late to stop you but at least we can stop you from committing crimes for the rest of your life.”

Superhero’s expression turned to one of anger and disbelief, “How could you? Do you know the amount of people that died just because you pressed the button?”

Villain smiled sadly. “It wasn’t me; you’ve got the wrong person. It was Hero-”

Superhero stood up in anger. “Oh really? Are you going to tell me that Hero forced you to press your hand on the button so that we could clearly see that it was your fingerprints on the button and yours only.”

Villain looked up at Hero who was silently standing behind Superhero and from his expression he was enjoying this. His eyes held silent mirth. No doubt his mocking expression was saying- and she could almost hear it loud and clear- They’ll never believe you. After all, I’m the hero and you’re just a villain.

She silently seethed with anger. This hateful man was walking around scot-free after causing such havoc. After causing her to get charged with a crime she never even committed. She silently berated herself. She should have known Supervillain must have had a trick up his sleeve. She never would have imagined Hero was one of his men.

She had to admit. It was a pretty good plan but they were ever so going to regret it the moment she got out of here.

Superhero was still speaking - some long list of charges it seemed. She heard the last line- “You’ll be punished by being imprisoned here for the rest of your miserable life.”

Villain’s jaw dropped. No, that wouldn’t do at all. She had to do something. How could her plan work if she was stuck here?

By the time she realised she should try to make Superhero believe her she looked up and noticed he had already stormed out of her cell. Probably too disgusted by the crimes she had apparently committed. She wondered what Hero had added and exaggerated to her normal list of crimes.

She was deep in thought when she saw Hero had stayed behind, even after they all had left. He walked over to her and leaned towards her. He whispered into her ears. “You didn’t think I would let you go out again and give you the chance to do something against me, did you? Oh no! You’re too dangerous to be left free.”

With that he grinned at her and left, closing the door with a final click.

Villain stared around the room with a growing level of dread. She hated being trapped. She got up and tried to see if there was a way to get out. She quickly realised the chair was fixed to the floor at the centre of the room and the chain around her ankles didn’t let her go far enough to reach the door.

She sighed. She was angry, tired and frustrated. It would do no good attempting anything now so she decided to just sleep and hoped the next day would bring some new hope and ideas.

The next day she woke to the sound of the door opening. A different person entered. She hadn’t seen him before. He walked over and quickly handed her a package. She didn’t need to open it to know what it was. It was food. However, it surprisingly smelled extremely good. The person, now that she looked closely, he was quite young. Probably around eighteen years old. Well, that made him younger than her.

The person- no, the boy chuckled. “Don’t worry we provide good food here. It is a prison run by heroes after all. No matter how bad you are. We won’t provide you with terrible food while you’re imprisoned.”

He suddenly winked, “Though it would be a different story if Hero was in charge here.”

Villain suddenly looked up. Had her ears deceived her?

The boy grinned as he sensed her unvoiced question. “Yes I know about Hero’s true nature. I’m fairly new here so I didn’t blindly trust him and one day when I was least expecting it I witnessed it myself. Luckily, he didn’t know I was there too. It’s a pity that he has everybody else fooled.”

He looked up at her with pleading eyes. “I also know you’re the only one capable enough to defeat him.”

Villain laughed bitterly. “That wouldn’t do any good now that I’m stuck in here and believe me I’ve tried to think of a way to get out of here but I have… failed.”

Villain put her head in her hands as she fully acknowledged the despair she had been feeling since she had been locked up here.

The boy looked worried as he saw her expression bleak and utterly defeated. He silently opened the packet and handed her the sandwich and spoke while she ate. “Don’t worry. Since you are a high security prisoner, they won’t let you out often but they will let you out once a month if you are good for the entire month. No causing havoc or disturbances here.”

Villain scoffed. “Just stay put here like a willing prisoner and accept that I have to live the rest of my life here?”

The boy’s eyes twinkled. “Of course not. You shall be planning your revenge. How to take down Hero and Supervillain once you successfully get out of here.”

Villain looked up; her eyes dull. This was too good to be true. She didn’t believe a word of it.

The boy realised she needed more convincing and continued, “When you’ll be taken out for your walk after a month, you’ll have two guards next to you and you’ll be chained at the waist with them holding one of each of the two sides and of course with the power dampening bracelet.”

He now started smiling, “However, I will be the one in charge of restraining you properly before you’ll be going out of here so it is very easy for me to make sure you can slip the chains off easily and unlock the power dampener for you so you can make it fall of with just a click when it’s the appropriate time.”

Villain looked up and for the first time since she had been brought here, she felt hope spark inside of her. She also felt better after eating the sandwich.

She took the boys hand and firmly shook it. “Deal.”

For some reason she believed him. She could sense he was being genuine.

He smiled as he hastily made his way to the door, “I’ve already spent more time than I should have in here. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

A month had passed. Villain had been quiet and well behaved. Only on the outside. In her head she had already formulated a fool proof plan. She smiled darkly. Supervillain and Hero were going to pay. They were going to wish they had never messed with her.

She looked up to the familiar sight of the boy coming in through the door to give her her daily supply of food.

Today he entered with chains dragging behind him.

She looked up with a smile. It was finally here. The day she had been eagerly waiting for. The day she would escape.

While she had been silently planning, the boy had also made preparations and had managed to get his hand on the key that unlocked the power dampener bracelet without any suspicion.

He quickly walked over to her and released her ankle that had been chained for so long. He also made short work of attaching the chain to her waist, showed her exactly where she had to pull so the whole thing fell off easily and unlocked her power dampener.

He leaned in and said in a hurried whisper. “Something unexpected happened. Hero will also be accompanying you for the walk.”

Villain smiled as she felt her powers flood through her body. She felt alive once more. Her strength returned and it felt glorious.

She looked over at the boy and thanked him with a smile. “Don’t worry about that, I can take him down easily now. I won’t be caught off guard like last time. He isn’t a match for me at all.” She smiled reassuringly at him.

She also made up her mind to return the favour to him someday. She was not one to be ungrateful.

By now, the guards had come inside to lead her out. She smirked. Hero was going to regret his decision very soon. He had come to her and given her this opportunity. He only had himself to blame for deciding to show up today.

She smiled as her eyes flashed dangerously. This was going to be oh so much fun.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 1/16 (all chapters)

“Oh my g-“ You whined, tightening your grip on the sink. “Harder, I’m gonna…”

You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you came undone; took in your smudged makeup and disheveled hair.

Pleasure rippled through you and you moaned into it, pushing yourself back onto the stranger’s dick and taking as much of him in as humanly possible. You could feel every inch of him and he groaned at the feel of you tightening around him.

“Oh f-“ You murmured, holding onto the sink and grinding yourself against your lover in time to the spasms of your body.

You were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you lost all coherency, body acting of its own accord. Your lover sucked in a single breath as he continued to fuck you and you could do little else but stare at your shoes.

You were doing this.

You were doing him . In a bathroom, no less.

How on earth had you gotten yourself into this situation?

━

Whenever you looked back over the course of your life, one detail stood out far more prominently than the others.

You were a good girl.

You had never broken the law, had always adhered to the proper dress code, had never had a filling or broken a bone. You could, and very often did, define yourself by the roads you had never dreamed of taking and the decisions you had never made.

Never was it more obvious than the day you suffered your first real heartbreak. 

You had followed the rules carefully; had dressed respectably for every date; had taken care to listen to your boyfriend’s every problem. You’d learned to cook his favorite meal; had faked more orgasms than you could count to feed his ego.

You were sure you would marry that man and had mentally mapped out your next five years. You would have a simple ceremony and a child one year later, then another two years after the first. You’d named them in your imagination and frequently lapsed into daydreams about your future perfect life.

On your fifth anniversary he took you to dinner and you could barely hide your excitement. You knew he had been keeping something from you and you were so sure he was going to propose. You put on your best dress and favourite heels and spent an hour on your makeup and hair. This night was going to be perfect and your stomach fluttered as he reached for your hands across the table.

“(Name),” he said, squeezing your hands in his, “I’ve been thinking about our future.”

“Me too,” you said, squeezing back, willing yourself to hold it together. You wanted this moment to be so perfect and romantic that you would repeat it over and over to your future children and grandchildren. “I’m so happy we’re on the same page.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time,” he said, smiling softly. “I’ve enjoyed all of our time together, but I think we need to move forwards.”

All you could think about was your future children; the length of their eyelashes and warmth of their hugs. You could almost smell the flowers in your wedding bouquet.

“I just...I think we’ve had a lot of fun together,” he said, “but I’m scared that if we stay like this we’ll fall into a rut. I don’t want to be married with a bunch of kids before I’m forty.”

And just like that, your stomach fell through the floor.

“Wait, w-what are you talking about?”

You snatched your hands from his, heart racing. Was this some sort of joke? You had shopped together for a new mattress only two days before. You glanced around the restaurant, looking for cameras or any sign that this was staged. If it was a prank, it was cruel.

“(Name), it’s not that I don’t love you, it’s just that, well… you’re like...how do I put this…”

He scratched his chin, searching for the right thing to say, even as your eyes filled with tears.

“You’re vanilla,” he said, “you’re safe, and sweet… but we’re still young and I keep thinking that I might want to try habanero or cayenne.”

“You think I’m...boring?” the words left your lips as a whisper and, while his reaction was to instantly reach out to you and apologise, the damage was already done.

“I can be habanero,” you said before you realised it. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

“I know,” he said, “and that’s the problem.”

━

That night you stood in your shower for almost three quarters of an hour, staring into space as the water soaked you through. 

His words circled your brain like vultures. 

Vanilla. 

He thought you were vanilla. Perhaps the worst part was that you could not disagree.

It haunted your every action for the following week. All you saw when you got ready for work was your simple wardrobe and comfortable shoes. 

You were a good girl, mild mannered and meek, and everyone seemed to have noticed before you.

Shock made way for despair. Despair turned to denial and denial quickly turned to anger. You hated your ex boyfriend almost as much as you hated yourself, scouring your apartment for everything he had ever touched.

It didn’t take long for your friends to get worried about you. Normally you were all too busy to constantly check in on the group chat you shared, but since the breakup everyone had something to say.

However kind they might have been to spare your feelings, they genuinely did seem surprised that you had broken up. You had been a couple since your college graduation and one of the only constants in the past few years as everyone’s lives took different directions. 

As was to be expected, your friends had multiple different opinions on suitable coping mechanisms. Yuiko came over with food; Hana brought wine. Sayaka called you every evening to trash talk your ex.

Then there was Rei. 

Rei was the most boisterous member of your friend group, full to the brim with the kind of self confidence that was obnoxious on other people, yet suited her perfectly. Her reaction to the breakup was not to hand you tissues. She posted exactly one message to the group chat and it had haunted you ever since.

To get over one dude… you gotta get under another ;)

You had known Rei for years and never once taken her advice, but something about that statement stuck with you. You would never have come up with such an idea on your own and it left you blushing a bright scarlet. Rebound sex was not something girls like you did, which was exactly why you had to do it.

“I’ll show you vanilla,” you muttered as you put on another layer of red lipstick and pulled your dress just a little lower to tease the lace of your bra.

━

You met up with your friends at Ego , a nightclub you had heard a great deal about, though never actually gone to. You had never had any reason to; you already had a long term partner and didn’t enjoy the idea of dancing in full view of strange men. 

You wondered if you’d made a mistake even as you took a seat at one of the tables. 

“Any lookers?”

You glanced around the room, trying to make out faces in the darkness.

“I…” you said. “I…”

You swallowed hard, feeling more than a little overwhelmed.

“I’ll get the next round!”

You thought that by going to fetch another round of drinks, you would be able to catch your breath and avoid drawing copious amounts of attention to yourself. You’d never spent much time at nightclubs, though, and realised your mistake once you got within twenty feet of the bar. 

Dozens of people in various states of intoxication crowded it, packed like sardines and all trying to get the attention of the bartender. You took a deep breath and took a step into the crowd, only for someone closer to the front to move and send a wave of movement through everyone else. Someone’s shoulder caught you in the chest, leaving you even further back than you had been before. 

Normally you were too polite to even contemplate shoving your way through a crowd, but tonight you weren’t yourself. You took a deep breath and put your weight into your shoulders, pushing against the others as forcefully as you could without actually hurting anyone.

At first you seemed to be making progress, though you soon regretted your decisions. As you got within a few paces of the bar, a guy in front of you slipped, the numerous drinks in his hands heading for your face.

Before they could make contact, however, someone reached for your wrist and yanked you towards the bar,  out of the line of fire. The drinks hit other partygoers and they cried out in shock; the glasses shattered as they hit the floor. You, however, remained untouched.

“Th-thank you,” you stammered, turning to your saviour. 

He was tall and lanky, with black hair tied back from his face in a ponytail. He wore a black shirt, black pants, black shoes- a complete contrast to the Blue Hawaiian in his hand.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, looking away from you and taking an indifferent sip of his drink.

The bartender was in the middle of clearing the shattered glass from the floor and so you waited in an awkward sort of silence, finally turning back to the man who had saved you.

“You look as happy to be here as I am,” you said. He looked the type to sit in shady bars with three fingers of whisky, not dance with inebriated strangers, which Ego was better known for.

“Wasn’t my decision,” he said. “Someone’s gotta babysit.”

He pointed towards the dancefloor, where a small group of people danced along to the beat. You couldn’t make out most of their faces, except for one, and you were sure your eyes were deceiving you.

“Is that...Present Mic?”

The stranger followed your gaze, to the man with more than a passing resemblance, who was currently wiggling his hips in time to the beat.

“Him? Nah. I don’t know him.”

“But he’s waving to you,” you said, as the man who looked like Present Mic waved his arms over his head and shouted something in your general direction. You couldn’t hear him over the music and the stranger next to you pointedly turned in the opposite direction, taking a long sip of his drink.

You had been so nervous about approaching strangers. Rei had made it seem so easy- merging into a group and catching someone’s eye. You had always had a boyfriend and never possessed the easy confidence of your friends. It was strangely reassuring that speaking to this man came almost naturally.

“My name’s (Name),” you said. “Listen, you really saved me there...this dress is hand wash only.”

“Shouta,” said the stranger. “My name is Shouta.”

“C-can I get you a drink or something? I really owe you one.”

You realised after saying it that he wasn’t even halfway through the drink in his hand.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “It wasn’t anything special.”

He picked the pineapple from his drink and chewed at it thoughtfully.

“Listen,” he said, “I don’t like playing games. What is it you want?”

You were tongue tied, mortified at being caught out so quickly. You fought to keep your composure.

Under ordinary circumstances, you would have stammered some sort of apology or explanation, but tonight you weren’t you and there was no point in denying that you had an ulterior motive.

“Fine,” you said, gathering your nerves. “Do you want to go somewhere more...private?”

You cringed the moment it left your lips, suddenly all too aware of how forward you were being. You couldn’t believe you’d all but thrown yourself at the first guy you saw. What was wrong with you?

He climbed down off the stool he had been sitting on, taking one final sip of his drink.

“Let’s go.”

━

And so it was that you wound up in the nightclub washroom, back against the door and Shouta’s lips on yours.

You had half-heartedly discussed with your friends what to do on the off chance you found someone. You were to post to the group chat with a photograph of you and whoever you left with. You hadn’t expected to leave with anyone, much less decided on where you would go if you did.

You would never have guessed that you would wind up in a washroom, with the door sealed shut behind you. Shouta crushed his lips against yours, one hand pressed against the door, the other on your waist.

Your heart raced, heat rushing through you and pooling in your core.

“Say,” said Shouta, lowering his hand and running a thumb over your lips, “you sure you want this? Right here, right now?”

You moved before you realised what you were doing, opening your mouth and running your tongue over his thumb, looking him dead in the eyes as you wrapped your lips around it.

He hadn’t expected it, but seemed to approve, for he smiled, pulling away and dragging you into another crushing kiss. One hand he positioned above your head; the other grabbed at your clothes, pulling down your dress to expose your bra before heading south.

He lifted your skirt, slipping his fingers into your underwear. You gasped as you felt his hand against your folds, planting your own hand against the door to brace yourself. He caught your eye, tracing a finger around your clit before slowly sinking it deep into you. You reached for his shoulders, hooking one leg around his waist and pushing your lips against his. You pulled him tighter and tighter as he pushed his finger in and out of you, dragging at his shirt and belt. 

He squeezed in a second finger and you bucked your hips into his touches.

As if in response, he pulled his fingers out of you and ran them over your clit- the warmth and wetness sending pleasurable shivers down your spine. You had never felt this way before; this man was as good as a stranger, yet you wanted him so very badly. You had never felt this kind of desire before, never known how it felt to have such a growing pressure inside of you. 

“Please,” you moaned into his mouth, not knowing exactly what you were begging him for. “Please—-"

“Come here,” Shouta growled, pulling you towards him and then across to the sink. You caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, unkempt and wide eyed- a complete transformation from when you stepped out of the house.

You watched through the mirror as Shouta unfastened his belt and fly, lowering his pants low enough to give you a clear view of his hardened dick. He was far more muscular than his skinny physique let on, with a deep scar beneath his belly button. 

You were trembling from need, squeezing your legs together to try and fill the void his fingers had left. He smirked and walked towards you, taking hold of your hips and slowly, almost torturously slowly, pushing himself into you. 

He was bigger than you expected and you gasped at the feel of yourself stretching to accommodate him. He stopped in place, waiting for you to push back against him before pushing in further. At first his pace was slow, inching in only a little at a time, teasing an increasingly sensitive spot deep inside of you. 

“Faster,” you whined, digging your nails into your palms at the pressure inside of you. It was overwhelming your every sense, a coil winding tighter and tighter with every touch. “Please...please…”

He slapped your ass and drove in deeper.

This new pace was faster, his hips slamming into yours with such force that it sent you barreling forwards across the sink. You clung on for dear life, taking in the wet sounds as your bodies clashed; Shouta’s groans of pleasure and exertion.

“Oh my g-“ You whined, tightening your grip on the sink. “Harder, I’m gonna…”

You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you came undone; took in your smudged makeup and disheveled hair.

Pleasure rippled through you and you moaned into it, pushing yourself back onto Shouta’s dick and taking as much of him in as humanly possible. You could feel every inch of him and he groaned at the feel of you tightening around him.

“Oh f-“ You murmured, holding onto the sink and grinding yourself against him in time to the spasms of your body.

You were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you lost all coherency, body acting of its own accord. He sucked in a single breath as he continued to fuck you and you could do little else but stare at your shoes.

You were doing this.

You were doing him . In a bathroom, no less.

He gathered your hair with one hand and pulled backwards, arching your back as he fucked you even harder. He was getting close and you could tell; his thrusts were getting erratic and the hand that squeezed your hip was so tight that it left bruises later.

“(Name),” he said, raspiness of his voice betraying his desperation, “where would you like me to...cum”

He groaned and you blushed a bright red.

“In...inside me,” you murmured, the depravity of it all too clear. This was a man you didn’t know; you were risking pregnancy and worse.

In that moment, though, it only added to the appeal.

Shouta pulled you even closer, slowing right down to an almost painfully slow rhythm. He held you in place as he came and gasped for air; the heat of his breath leaving goosebumps against your skin.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, his warmth dripping from you as he pulled out. 

You took a deep breath and stood up straight, Shouta letting go of you to pull up his pants. He rinsed his hands under the tap and splashed cold water on his face before grabbing a pile of paper towels.

“I’ll guard the door,” he said, motioning towards the same door he had pinned you against only a short time ago. “Knock when you’re ready.”

“Oh,” you said, watching him leave, “okay.”

For the first time all night, you were alone, the nightclub music in the background your only clue to your surroundings.

You walked towards the sink and took in your bedraggled appearance-bra on full display and cum on your thighs.

You couldn’t believe you were thinking it, but Rei was right. For the first time in weeks you weren’t thinking about the ex. For the first time in years you weren’t thinking about anything.

Habanero, you thought as you switched on the tap. 

This was how it felt to be habanero.

━

6 Months Later

You were still a good girl. 

That said, you no longer followed the safe roads. Not so long ago, you believed that your breakup was the end of everything, but it had actually been a new beginning.

Two months after the night at Ego , you cut your hair and quit your job. You had been there since graduation and your colleagues were more than a little desperate for you to stay. You had taken on the workload of about seven of eight people while earning only a pittance for a salary.

You had a new job now; something fresh and exciting and challenging to boot. It made you nervous, but that feeling only spurred you on.

You’d never been to UA before and it was much bigger in person. You could already tell you were going to get lost and found yourself grateful that the Principal had taken it upon himself to show you around.

“These are the first year homerooms,” he said, pointing out the doors on your left and right. “1-A and 1-B. I hope you pardon my presumptuousness, but I thought it might be useful to have you shadow one of our homeroom teachers for a couple of hours...get a feel for our curriculum and the kinds of students you’ll be working with.”

“That would be wonderful,” you said, eager to take notes.

“Wait here,” said Principal Nezu, “I’ll be right back.”

He knocked on one of the doors and stepped inside, presumably to fetch the teacher.

When he returned, it took everything in your power to stop your jaw from hitting the floor.

It was him, and he was just as shocked to see you.

“Professor Aizawa,” said Principal Nezu, “this is (Name), our new guidance counsellor.”

He glanced from you to Shouta, taking in your identical expressions.

“Oh… do you know one another?”

[bitch-butter]

hello! can i request "You didn't do anything wrong, there's nothing to apologize for" for any ship of your choosing? or any AU you want? i just really love how your writing flows, it's so cohesive-- don't take this the wrong way but like. i adore sitting down and actually analyzing your stuff structurally? seeing how it works and weaves together to make a whole just makes the shriveled up eng lit major inside me really happy.

w o o f this one ran away from me a little bit, it incorporates some Things I was thinking of re: forgiveness/webgott last month, and it's bit different than pure H/C but I hope you find something to like in it! Thank you for your lovely compliment~

Yes, it's webgott bc i am chained to The Rhythm

4. "You didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing to apologize for."

He cleared the drawer once more, eyes scanning into its dark corners for any sign of a missed sock, undershirt, some hidden treasure that he had many years ago deemed worthy of being put in the back of the underwear drawer. Raising his brows, Joe shook his head at himself as he closed it resolutely, tossing his bounty into his pack and stuffing the top with the sack that contained his bathroom shit.

Even remembering the days he used to be able to leave the house with just his keys made him want to sigh like a goddamn cow in the summertime. Now he needs the bag, the car, and Web just to go across the bay.

Speak of the devil, Web padded into the bedroom with his usual September expression: weary, exhilarated, slightly frustrated. Wordlessly, he crossed past Joe to the bed and slumped face-first onto it with a groan.

“Done?” Joe questioned, zipping up the bag.

Making a soft grunt of a sound, Web curled his arms around his head. “Done,” he said, face mashed against the bed.

“Well, get to it,” Joe said, stepping over to land a light smack against Web’s ass and grinning at the outraged whine he got in response. “Don’t want to be late,” he tossed over his shoulder as he stepped back out to the hall, making for the kitchen.

Even out here he can hear the sound Web makes, somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “I’ve changed my mind!”

“No you didn’t!” Joe called back, grabbing the butter left on the counter and shoving it in the fridge, letting his eyes make one final sweep around the kitchen. “If you don’t show your reputation won’t ever recover.”

“Your mother loves me,” Web toned, and Joe couldn’t help a snicker as he moved through the hall back to the bedroom, where Web had at least moved to lay on his back, knees up. “She wouldn’t care, she’d probably let me move in with her if you ever kicked me out.”

Rolling his eyes, Joe stood at the food of the bed, arms folded. “Not with Yom Kippur, you’re not allowed to fuck around. She was happy you said you wanted to come, you don’t want to disappoint her.”

Heaving out a long breath, Web folded his hands behind his head, eyes lowered as he peered down at Joe. His knees tilted just so, his lips quirking, and Joe could see the fucking thought forming in his head before he had a chance to open his mouth.

“No.”

“We have time,” Web said, extending one leg to poke his toes into the left side of Joe’s stomach.

Clicking his tongue, he took hold of the other man’s ankle, giving it a soft pull and smiling in satisfaction as Web tried to pull it back to no avail. “If you think I’m going to miss my last fucking meal just to fuck you then you have another thing coming, alright?”

With a disgruntled twist of his lips Web pulled his leg in again, a little jerk that ushered Joe down onto the mattress as well. “You weren’t this dedicated last year,” he noted lightly, free of the reproach that might have accompanied the words if his family had said them.

Shaking his head, Joe decided to throw Web a bone and settled beside him, at least staying up on his elbows. “Different places,” he said simply.

Web looked up at him fondly, hand coming up to smooth over Joe’s hairline, sweeping it back and trailing behind his ear. “So, how will we spend tonight, then?” he asked quietly, eyes still following along where his hand moved. “If not in bed.”

Breath going slow with the contact, he tilted his head into the touch contentedly. “Well, tonight we’re going to eat like kings, Rach will probably be trying to get drunk in the pantry and hoping nobody notices, we’ll sleep in the attic, then tomorrow we spend a lot of fucking time at the synagogue.”

“And we don’t eat,” Web stated, assured.

“No eating, no drinking,” Joe nodded, brow furrowing at the sight of an eyelash on the other man’s cheek, reaching for it mindlessly.

Humming, Web closed his eyes to accommodate him. “Does this have a corresponding Catholic holiday I can retrofit in my mind?”

“I don’t know, you guys got a day where you feel really guilty about everything?” he asked, presenting the lash to Web balanced on the tip of his finger.

Blinking, Web frowned thoughtfully. “Birthdays.”

“Make your wish, you prick,” Joe grumbled, holding back his smile as Web grinned up at him, pausing momentarily before blowing the lash away into the room. Indulgently, he moved in closer, cupping the warmth of Web’s face in his palm and looking down on him with a feeling as close to serenity as he ever has here, in their bed, the sunlight coming in through their window.

Web returned his gaze, his own hand tracing along the back of Joe’s neck. “Do you confess?”

“Sure.”

“Alone?”

“All together,” he corrected, absently rubbing at the spot on Web’s cheek where he had plucked the lash. “You recite it, while you do this,” he said, shifting gently to bring his hand down to Web’s chest, knocking gently against him, just above his heart, with a loose fist.

Web watched his fist, a bemused smile growing over his lips. “Why?”

Settling his hand over the spot, Joe rubbed gently at him. “To punish your heart.”

Smile stilling over his face, Web absorbed his words with quiet interest, eyes floating down along Joe’s neck to the dark burrow of his chest where it pressed against the bed. “Isn’t the sinning hurt enough?”

Trust Web to try to loop him into a conversation about semantics of all fucking things. He must be more anxious to start his classes than Joe thought. “I don’t know,” he half-shrugged, eyes on his own hand over Web’s heart. “If you’re the sort who doesn’t like hurting people, maybe.”

Web nodded, accepting, smile turning more wistful, thoughtful “That’s nice, to be able to get it all out of the way at once.”

“What, you turned in a paper late?” Joe teased.

Flicking behind Joe's ear, Web looked up at him balefully, just a touch of that familiar humor at the edge of his mouth, like a dimple made of light. “I’d apologize to you, obviously.”

Huffing out a surprised laugh, Joe looked discerningly down at him. “You got something you want to tell me?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Web shook his head softly, hand curling around his neck once more and seeming to anchor him down even further, their faces close enough to see the earnest upset around the angles of the other man’s eyes. “You know.”

Web does this. Likes to see monsters where there are none, invent storm clouds heading for them, and it makes him behave like a child sometimes and a man others. He’s a contrarian, down even past his bones and into the dust of the universe that lived in his being, it is an unchangeable fact. Telling him that there’s nothing to worry about accomplished nothing at the best of times.

Not that it’s ever stopped him trying.

“You don’t have to apologize to me for a fucking thing,” Joe rebuked solidly, hand moving from Web’s heart to his head, fingers resting just north of the delicate point of his hairline. “Sincerely.”

“I do, I…” Web parried, eyes unyielding where they looked up into Joe’s, somehow free of the sort of conflict he contained when he started thinking he and Joe had different opinions. “I know that this isn’t easy, dealing with me. And you do,” he continued, and this close he can see the way his eyes are stuck on his lips, the thought filling him with affection. “And you’re amazing.”

Giving in, chest bowing in like the hull of a sinking ship, he caught Web’s lips with his own, a hot smack of a thing that stole his breath, gave it to Web, who in turn gave it back to him better, better. “You don’t have to apologize for living, doll,” he shook his head, their nose practically knocking. “That’s not the point.”

Web didn’t seem soothed by the kiss, still appearing occupied with some train of thought that sought to carry him off and away from Joe’s eyes. “I still think of it sometimes, you know.”

Joe frowned. “What?”

“That day,” Web said, as though it should be evident.

He has to pause and think. They’ve lived a lot of days together, not just these ones that they’ve spent in this apartment, but the ones they spent as voices over the phone, words on a page, men in uniforms hiding from each other like chameleons. How is he meant to know which day Web means from the thousands they’ve had?

Looking down, the blue of Web’s eyes reminds him absently of Austrian skies. Mountains.

Yes. He knows.

“I think sometimes I should apologize to you and never stop,” Web said gently, managing to keep hold of Joe’s eyes as they blinked back and forth and back and forth into the memory.

He hadn’t thought about that day in a long time. Which isn’t to say he never does, but it’s been a time. If he concentrates he can still feel the sun on his neck, the unnatural sweatiness of his palms, how his face had somehow felt cold, waxy. Picturing the house, the dark guts of it with the man inside squirming like half-digested meat, still fills him with the primal sort of rage that only visits him in his dreams. All around the periphery of the memory is Web, that day he had decided that whoever David Webster was he wanted no part of it.

“It’s in the past,” he excused weakly.

Web pulled in a short breath, face carefully open. “I know it is.”

“So let it be.”

Frown deepening, Web’s brought his eyes back down, and even this small departure felt like shrapnel. Joe combed through his hair, rubbing at his scalp, jostling him enough to win his eyes back. Web opened his mouth, struggling, before settling into the intention. “Do you still think about it?”

“Of course,” he said dully, voice still caught somewhere in his memory.

“Do you ever think I owe you an apology?” Web asked, voice quiet and eyes steady.

The question drops through him like rain. He’s thought of that day hundreds of times, thousands. When he lets his mind walk back up that hill, shining in the sun like the cover of the storybooks his mother would read to him, it isn’t Web he’s thinking of. He thinks of a forest of trees, of the way that one can become millions, and those millions become legion. That day had been about a lot of things, he hadn’t ever intended for Web to be one of them.

Web has apologized to him in too many ways to count. But this memory is deeper than they are, the kind of wound that might close over but will still carry a piece of metal, even smaller than a sliver, nestled inside of them both.

Web gives him grief, for better and for worse. But he gives him peace, too. That’s all the apology he wants.

His silence has drifted over the room like fog, but Web looks at him with the sort of clarity that only a few years ago made him feel like a bug on a pin, but now simply makes him feel known.

“I’ll punish my heart for forgiveness tomorrow,” Web said softly, smile turning up his lips, hand against Joe’s neck.

Huffing, Joe shook his head, taking up Web’s mouth once more, briefly. “You have it,” he rasped, kissing just the corner of his lips, and then the soft heat of his cheek. “You’ve had it.”

Web smiled into the kiss, leaning up to press a matching one to Joe’s own cheek. “Good.”

Swallowing, he followed Web back down, their faces close. “Will you accept mine?”

A disbelieving laugh rumbled up Web’s throat, his head giving a dismissive shake as he gave Joe’s neck a hard rub. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he criticized, eyes bright, cheeks flushed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

But they haven’t always been that lucky. This sort of luck isn’t a permanent state of being.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, before pausing momentarily. “Let’s say you forgive me for the first sin I haven’t committed yet.”

Laughing, Web took his hand from Joe’s skin, holding it up beside them in some offering. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Joe confirmed, taking his hand, giving it one firm shake, enough to gather up Web’s laugh, before bringing it to his lips and laying a kiss across its back. “Now come on, let’s go.”

[a-libra-writes]

Being the Camp Doctor for the RDR2 Gang

added two characters no one asked for you cant stop me. still tryna get the hang of these guys!

In this imagine, you’ll be fixin up: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Adler, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones, Flaco Hernandez, Mr. Horley

ARTHUR MORGAN

Arthur is grateful and appreciative of you, really! He just isn’t always comfortable going to you for help. He figures he shouldn’t bother you and he should fix his own mess, but all it takes is a stern look for him to sigh and agree to let you have a look. He gets hot under the collar when you lean in so close and touch him so kindly, so he’d really be itching for some small talk on your part. He feels like whenever he starts it, he says weird things, and his train of thought starts leaving the station when he catches a whiff of your perfume.

The whole experience gives him a mess of emotions, especially if you look after him while he’s sick (he ain’t the best patient) but Arthur can’t imagine going to anyone else when he’s hurt. He just likes your gentle touch too much. To repay you in his own way, he’ll bring any medicines and herbs he finds. Heck, you could give him a grocery list of things you need and he’ll come right back with all of it.

JOHN MARSTON

John can’t go a week without hurting himself in some way, but he’s the type to get up, wipe the blood off and ignore it. Or just forget about it - so many times you’ve scolded him for coming to you only when an infection is setting in. It became a joke with the gang that John would mysteriously go missing anytime you went looking for him. You’d have to sneak up on him and pounce, sweetly asking why he’s never mentioned the fingers he broke a week ago. At least when he’s sick, he can’t go anywhere, so he has no choice but to sit and let you check up on him. The attention embarrasses him to no end so thank god for the excuse that the fever is making him red.

However, things were a little different after the wolf attack. You stitched him up neatly, and he was so tired, he let you fuss. You did him a serious favor, he thought, and he felt like he sorta owed you. John wasn’t sure what he’d do to make it up to you, but he could at least sit through your check-ups in the coming weeks, even if they got him feeling all sorts of things.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

He doesn't kid himself about what a valuable asset you are to the gang. He’s damn lucky he found you, and luckier that you agreed to work with him. Dutch is loud about telling people to go see you and ensures the medicine cart has what it needs, or everyone is in trouble. He likes to flatter you, both about how appreciated you are and how excellent your skills are. Both points are true, but he mostly does it because you’re cute and he wants to be on your good side. Even if you’re a capable shooter, he’d rather you stay in camp where you’re safe and not in the middle of danger. He’s very stubborn about this.

Dutch rarely gets himself hurt or sick, but he’ll still see you so he has a chance to be fussed over. Obviously, he won’t do it in front of everyone - he’d rather you treat any wounds he gets in his tent. He’s just needy like that and he enjoys watching your nimble hands mix this or stitch that. He might hang around the medicine cart while you treat others to watch you work … and discourage anyone else from flirting.

HOSEA MATTHEWS

Like Dutch, Hosea appreciates you and knows you’re an important part of the gang. He’ll be the one nagging others to see you when they’re hurt and sick and telling them to be still and let you work. You’ve helped him many a time as well, except not just with injuries. When he began to develop his cough, you noticed right away and asked him to try all sorts of comforting teas you put together. He told you not to fuss over him, but he couldn’t refuse something you worked so hard on … and they’re delicious. He has no idea how you made leaf water so appealing. 

On a side-note, Hosea likes watching you read your medical books because you have such an interesting expression when you study them. You’ll write notes in the margins and there’s probably a dozen bookmarks in it, it makes him proud in a strange way, like you’re working this hard to help others. He likes to sit next to you and see which chapter you’re working on this time.

SADIE ADLER

You were the one who helped her after she was brought to Colter, and she was in a daze through most of it. Once the group was off the mountain, she stayed close to your medicine wagon, appreciating your calm presence. Sadie finally thanked you then, since you seemed different than the others. She didn’t have much interest in medicine, but helping you was better than dealing with Pearson. Crushing herbs and cutting bandages helped keep her mind off things, and gradually you two began to talk and get to know each other better.

Later when she joined in on the gang’s jobs, she was often visiting you, only half-listening to your warnings to be more careful. Since she helped make your medicines, she knows what ingredients you need, so to make up for her recklessness she’ll often bring you supplies. When you fix her up, she takes good care of the wound so you don’t have to fuss with it later.

MICAH BELL

Even though Micah knew how skilled you were, he never visited you. He’s not the type to seek help even if his insides are melting. He claims he never gets sick and he wouldn’t be so stupid as to get himself shot up - though not two weeks later, you spent an hour digging a bullet out of him. He drank through most of it to avoid showing how painful it was, but your stitches were quick and neat, and they didn’t bother him much. You kept checking up on him too, and you were glad he was taking care of the stitches. Micah wasn’t doing anything, really, he just knew it was stupid to mess with them (your compliment was nice, though).

When you removed them, you were happy that everything healed so well. You kept touching his arm and moving it, he finally had to pull it away because the realization that he hadn’t made anyone that pleased in a while was uncomfortable. After that, seeing you so close to the other men as you helped them tended to get him antsy. He still won’t go to you of his own violation when he’s hurt or sick; he hopes you’ll notice and go to him with that worried look on your face.

CHARLES SMITH

For many years he’s had to take care of himself, no matter if he was hurt or sick. He does … a decent job, but not great, he’ll admit. So when he joined the gang, he was grateful there was someone like you around. Charles appreciates your neat stitches and how careful and considerate you are. When he came down with a small cold, you were right there with some medicine you made, even if he was still new. That sort of consideration just really gives him a pleasant, happy feeling, so he’s more than glad to help you out. Just give him a list of herbs you need, he insists on it. He’ll get some sinew and bone for you to make needles and thread out of, too. 

Charles likes to hang out when you’re making your own medicines and ointments. He recalls his mother doing something similar, so it’s very interesting to him. If you wouldn’t mind, he’d like to know how you do it, and how you know what to use. Also, when one of your patients is being difficult, he’s the one to walk over and tell them to behave.

BILL WILLIAMSON

He wants to be the “tough guy” and brush off any injury, even if it really hurts, and he doesn’t want to admit when he’s feeling like death ... But the thing is, you’re nice. Sweet, even, and you have pretty hands and you’re so caring. You worry about him, so he feels rotten for not taking care of himself and going to see you. You check up on him too, make sure everything is healing alright, and it always gets him red-faced and nervous. There’s definitely been a few awkward but well-intended compliments. 

Probably because of his crush, he’s a very good patient when he’s sick. He hates feeling that awful so he’ll do whatever you say to get better. Everyone’s very amused at how obedient Bill has suddenly become, since before you showed up he’d just be a pain in the ass. Bill has no idea how to repay you, so he’ll bring you things that he thinks are useful, like some questionable bottles he thought were legitimate medicine.

JAVIER ESCUELLA

Javier likes to stop by your cart for silly things like a “broken heart”, just so he can chat with you and hang around. He appreciates your skills and compassion; he’s sure most of these guys would’ve bled out if you weren’t there, and he tells you so. While Javier played the tough guy in his adulthood and pretended he was fine, sitting with you brings back memories of when he was a kid and getting patched up by his ma. Watching your fingers move so expertly and carefully impresses him, and your compassion at how he’s feeling gets him all fluttery. 

He loves that sort of nurturing nature, so he’s an extra obedient patient for you and does his best to look after the injuries you fixed up. And while Javier normally hates people seeing him when he’s snotty and sick, he loves how you take care of him. He doesn’t even hide how pleased he is with your bedside manner. 

SEAN MACGUIRE

No surprise, Sean acts tough when he gets the stuffing beat out of him, pretending it doesn’t hurt even as he wobbles. He’ll go to your medicine cart because you must want to chat, not because he’s convinced he broke a rib and he has half a mind to ask if they grow back (he often asks you stupid “medical” questions). He’s his usual big-headed flirty self as you treat him, flavored with plenty of jokes and occasional yelps from pain. So many times Sean has had to go back to you because he accidentally opened his stitches or sprained his wrist again. Hey, he gets to see you again, so it’s not that bad. 

Actually, you rarely have to check up on Sean because he likes hanging around your cart even when he’s feeling fine and has other things he should be doing. When he’s actually recovering from something, be it wound or sickness, he trails you like a puppy, asking you to take another look just in case. When he’s totally wasted he’ll steal this legit-looking snake oil and very proudly presents it to you before staggering off somewhere.

LENNY SUMMERS

Lenny is reasonable, he sees no shame in visiting you when he’s needing to be patched up or feeling under the weather. He hates feeling sick so he’s on point with taking the medicine you give him. And honestly … being treated by you, especially for colds and stuff, gets him a little case of the feelings. It reminds him of being back home, taking some remedy his mama put together to help a sore throat or bad cough. You often noticed this sentimental look on his face whenever you made him something.

He’s very interested in the whole process, so sometimes he accompanies you as you gather herbs or make medicine and asks you how it works. Eventually Lenny starts helping you out and being something of an assistant, although patching up bullet wounds and stitching skin makes him a bit queasy. He thinks your medical books are beyond cool and likes to read them, even if the information can be a bit dense. When he’s out he likes to search for similar books and hopes they’re useful to you.

KIERAN DUFFY

You were the one who treated the wounds he received when he was captured - the gang was willing to just leave them be, but Kieran overheard you arguing that you weren’t about to leave a man bleeding all over the place. You sounded tough and he flinched when you showed up with the needle, but once you started patching him up he was in awe of how gentle and careful you were. You kept asking if it hurt, and for the next few days you’d come by with medicine to make sure everything was healing alright. Kieran had never had such kind attention like that since… Well, he couldn’t remember. 

Afterward he knew he had to thank you somehow. His theoretical leash was still short, but he could look after the horses that pulled your cart. You realized how knowledgeable he was, so while you taught him about medicine for people, he’d teach you things about helping your horses. It goes without saying he grins like a dork whenever you thank him for it.

TILLY JACKSON

She’s not the sort to be squeamish around blood, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be assigned to stitching up the boys when they get themselves in foolish situations. The good side is Tilly enjoys spending time with you, since you both are usually too busy with different things to chat. So when it’s her turn to be your assistant, she takes full advantage, catching you up with what’s been going on. If you’re more introverted she has all sorts of fun gossip, if you’re more outgoing she’ll encourage you to go on jobs with her and the girls, or just have fun with them. She’s also usually the one washing the blood out of your bandages before you disinfect them, so you have her to thank for that.

Tilly likes helping you gather ingredients to make medicine. Something about it just tickles her, like you know some secret that no one else does. She’s the biggest fan of your teas because nothing else helps her get through a headache, and if that wasn’t already a reason to like you, you’re so nice when she’s sick. She’s never had anyone be so attentive and kind to her when she’s ill, and it gets her a little embarrassed at how happy it makes her. 

MARY-BETH GASKILL

Oof, she really doesn’t like helping you clean up blood and guts, or lord forbid digging out bullets (once was enough!). So instead, she’ll steal you some good quality medicines and supplies she spotted, or she takes over your chores so you can rest after a night of patching wounds. A big reason she’s so grateful is because at the orphanage, no one gave a damn if she was puking her guts or gushing blood. The first time she was having horrible cramps she tried to hide it, but you were so sweet and empathetic. You gave her some strange tea, bundled her up with a blanket and set warm bricks wrapped in cloth to soothe the pain. She’d never been so tended to in her life, it made her speechless. 

After that Mary-Beth was in your corner. She’ll actually raise her voice and scold anyone who's being a difficult patient! And if someone is feeling even a little off, she’ll push them toward you. Karen teases her for having a crush, but that’s not it at all! She’s just grateful! Of course, this has all inspired her to start writing a romance about a soldier and a nurse he meets, so now you’ll catch her staring and furiously scribbling notes.

KAREN JONES

Karen is a regular visitor because she ain’t about to deal with cramps or a cold if she can help it. She dislikes being slowed down because of her own body, and you’ve also assisted with some morning-after medicine and never told the camp or judged her for it. She respects you, but still likes to tease you about your “bookish” tendencies. She insists you need to stop fussing over everyone and do something for yourself. “Let them boys fend for themselves! Give ‘em a bottle of whiskey an’ a needle, they’ll figure it out.”

Karen doesn’t have patience or steady hands, so she doesn’t help directly with surgery, but she’ll clean up the mess afterward. A little-known fact is she’s the one who's responsible for the tidy way your medicine cart is laid out. It’s like organizing bottles of perfume and make-up, she says, so you can find things much easier now. She knows your teas and medicines work well, but she hates the taste, so she’ll add a shot of whiskey or a dollop of honey to help it go down.

FLACO HERNANDEZ

He’s always looked after himself, as his many scars can attest. He can get the job done, more or less, and he’s dug out a few bullets from himself and others. That’s less of a problem nowadays, considering his remote location, and few things get past his thick coat. Still, Flaco admires your skills. He hasn’t gotten to see you in action too much, but you’ve talked about people you’ve helped and the gang you tend to. He likes this caring, cautious nature of your’s. 

You couldn’t believe he didn’t even have bandages in his little cabin, so you put together a little box filled with bandages, ointments and medicines you’ve made yourself. Flaco tries to put on his usual gruff front, telling you not to bother with things like that, but he’s so touched. It takes him way back, reminding him of his mother and grandmother, both respected curanderas. He hasn’t thought of that in a long time. Anytime you brew something for him to help with aches or sleeping, he’ll drink it with a raspy laugh. 

MR. HORLEY

Well it's a good thing you have this skill, he thinks, because the lord knows you and your gang get into all sorts of trouble. Anytime Mr. Horley sees neat little stitches on you or your friends, he figures it's your work, and they heal well afterward. He never gets himself hurt, so he hasn't had a chance to see you work, but you'll still offer him some tea leaves you grew. At first he took it to be polite, but he and Mrs. LeClerk actually enjoyed it a lot. Jessica sends him to get more tea and medicine from you, half because she prefers your recipes, half because she wants you both to chat more. 

At some point Mrs. LeClerk had need of your skills, so he employed you to discreetly patch up some of her associates. That’s when he got to see you work, and he gave you several genuine compliments you didn’t expect. They were in his usual serious voice, but he meant it. He keeps his eyes and ears out for work you can do, just in case you drop by that day.

[slythergirlimagines]

Just Us With Some Hugging -Part One

Prompt: Prompt #1- Fake dating with Prince Zuko!

@darthsokaaa thank you for your request! I hope I did it justice! Who doesn’t love some Prince Zuko;) Masterlist

Just Us With Some Hugging- Part 1

You and Zuko had been close since birth. Your mothers had been best friends and the closest of confidantes, and because of this you had spent nearly every moment of your life with Zuko. As you grew up, Zuko became a trained fire bender and you became a trained warrior. Even during his exile, you were checking up on him through letters.

It had been nothing to pick his side over Ozai’s, and easier still to join forces with him against Azula to place the rightful Fire Lord on the throne. As soon as Zuko was crowned, he named you a member of his personal council. For three years, everything had remained somewhat peaceful, and Zuko and you had fallen right back into your friendship as if you’d never spent any time apart.

That’s why when Zuko had all but manhandled you into this conference room, you didn’t expect anything unusual. Maybe an important meeting, or just some time to catch up and talk. Never in your wildest dreams could you have predicted that he would ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

“What?” You say, blinking in shock.

“Y/N, it would just be for the duration of the Peace Celebration. Just a short little weekend, nothing much.” His face is a little flushed, his cheeks a light pink. Zuko has always struggled to ask for help, particularly anything dealing with emotions. Anxiously, he starts rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know it’s a lot, but think about it! We’d get to have a fun trip to Ba Sing Se. And it’ll be a fun party! We’ll get to see everyone again, they’re all coming this time.” He gestures with his hands. It’s almost endearing.

You’d be lying if you said the idea didn’t have any appeal. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen any of the Gaang. After the war, everyone had spread out and getting together had been nearly impossible. This would be the first Peace Celebration that everyone would be able to come to.

If you were extra honest with yourself, the idea was appealing for another reason entirely. Somewhere along the endless years of friendship, you had fallen in love with Zuko. Maybe it was seeing his growth as a person, or maybe it was his devotion to Fire Nation and righting Ozai’s mistakes. Maybe it was just that he was the single most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Regardless, you were in deep. And that was really the reason that you couldn’t say yes, as much as you might want to. You knew if you let yourself get that close to Zuko, it might ruin everything. Your friendship with Zuko was one of the most important aspects of your life, and you would never forgive yourself if you let your own feelings ruin what you all had.

“Zuko, I really don’t think...”

“You know, I’m kind of the Fire Lord, I could command you.” He says quietly. His voice is huskier than normal, and heat instantly floods your face.

Why was he doing this to you? It wasn’t fair that he was able to do...well to do that! He had no idea how much power he held over you, how you would do anything for him. And now that he had asked like that, there was no way you could say no.

Something in your expression must have given away your broken resolve, because Zuko’s face breaks into a huge grin.

“Thank you!” He exclaims, jumping up and happily running around the table to throw his arms around you. He’s warm, like all fire benders are, and hesitantly you hug him back and tuck your head under his chin. You’ve never been particularly affectionate friends, but the embrace doesn’t feel as unnatural as it probably should.

“I haven’t even said yes yet.” You grouch. You can feel the reverberations of Zuko’s low laugh in his chest. It’s too much, being in his arms like this.

“I know you.” Is all he says in reply. His words send warm tingles down your spine. With a final sigh, you pull away from Zuko, breaking the hug.

“Why do you need me to do this again?” You ask. Your eyes trace over his face, memorizing the contours and lingering on his scar. He used to act so ashamed of it, the scar he never asked for. Now he wears it like a badge of honor. You knew his troubles stemmed from his perceived lack of honor, but you can’t help but feel he was wearing his honor the entire time, right here on his face.

“I told you. Uncle drives me crazy with his matchmaking. He keeps telling me that ‘A single tea leaf makes the worst tea.’ Or something like that. I don’t even know what he means!” Zuko throws his hands up in defeat, breaking your trance. You snort, but don’t comment. Frustrated as he may be, Zuko loves Iroh.

Zuko had briefly mentioned the matchmaking to you before, but he had always played it off as a joke. You had no idea that Iroh was being so serious about it, or that it bothered Zuko so much.

“Why don’t you just tell him that you’re too young to settle down? You have a Nation to run, after all.” You interject.

Zuko looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“You know Uncle. He never listens when it comes to this stuff. I told you about the girl in Ba Sing Se he made me date!”

You force down the irrational swell of anger that builds in your chest. Zuko had mentioned the date in one of his letters, and it had bothered you for reasons you never wanted to think about.

“We need to talk logistics here.” You recross your arms. “What’s our story? How are we going to pull this off in front of our friends and your uncle?”

Zuko begins rubbing the back of his neck. The sleeves of his red robe fall down a few inches, and you quickly avert your eyes before you’re caught staring.

“I don’t think it will be too hard.” Zuko says. He’s too nonchalant about it all, which is mildly infuriating. He sees the irritated look on your face and hurries to explain. “I mean, we’ve been friends forever and we’re always around each other. It was bound to happen right?”

Your heart stutters and nearly stops. Did you hear him right?

Zuko clears his throat.

“I mean for story purposes that is.”

“Right.” You say. There’s a long awkward pause. You’ve never been comfortable with silence, so you hurry to break it.

“So one day we just decided ‘This is it.’ And I jumped your bones?”

The sarcasm lightens the mood, and Zuko laughs. His amber eyes twinkle in the light, like they’re shining.

“How come you jumped my bones?” He teases.

“We both know I’d have to make the first move, you’d never do it.” You challenge him.

A weird static energy settles in the room, reminding you of Azula’s lightning. Zuko has never looked at you so intensely. You swear the air is crackling.

“Right.” He says, and is it your imagination or are his eyes flickering to your lips?

The spell is broken by one of Zuko’s men opening the door.

“My Lord, I’m sorry to interrupt...” He trails off, looking between the two of you.

You and Zuko both notice the lack of space between you, and jump apart.

“Right, no it’s fine.” Zuko says, clearing his throat and gesturing for the man to come in.

You take the opportunity to leave while you still have some dignity left.

“Oh, and y/n?” Zuko says before you’re out the door.

“Yes, Zuko?” You ask. You hope the blush isn’t too noticeable on your face.

“I’m glad you said yes, because I already told Uncle last week.” His face splits into a cocky grin, and his scar crinkles.

Your infuriated scream echoes through the whole palace, mingling with his delighted laugh.

_____________________________

You’re already reconsidering this arrangement by the time you reach Ba Sing Se. Zuko looks astoundingly good when he’s more relaxed, and there’s no way you’ll be able to control yourself like this. Today he wears the clothing of a fire nation commoner. The deep red is striking against his skin and dark hair. It also highlights his scar and the amber of his eyes.

Ba Sing Se is gloriously overdecorated. There are flowers and banners covering every visible inch of the city, and they blend together in a colorful blur as the train moves through the city. Zuko smiles, face turned toward the glass, eyes taking in all the festivities. It’s been too long since you’ve seen him look so peaceful.

He turns from the window and catches your expression.

“What?” He asks, self-consciously.

Your voice is too soft when you answer him.

“Nothing. Ba Sing Se looks good on you.”

You have no idea where your boldness comes from, as Zuko shifts uncomfortably under the complement. Before you can tease him about it, he switches topics.

“Ok, so we’re really going to have to sell this thing, aren’t we?” He starts, making you roll your eyes.

It’s a typical Zuko move to save the panicking until right before. You had already done your fair share of freaking out, and had already done your meditation. You were a lot calmer about it all than you expected to be.

Of course, you knew that would probably change the moment you had to start pretending, but for now you were ok.

“Meditate Zuko. Deep breaths.” You tell him, giving him a gentle kick to the shin. He rolls his eyes, but takes the advice anyways.

“It’s going to be okay.” You tell him. “We just have to be us with some hugging. Or handholding. They know us and they know how we behave normally. We just have to act natural.”

Zuko nods, and a strand of black hair falls in front of his eyes. He flicks it away, and then settles deeper into his seat.

“Just us.” He says.

“With some hugging.” You amend.

He cracks an amber eye open and you shrug at his expression.

“It’ll be weird if we don’t touch each other at all.” You say.

“I didn’t know you had such a deep desire to touch me.” He says, with extra emphasis on the word “touch.”

Your body begins to tingle again. This has been happening more and more frequently with Zuko, where one of you says something with a double meaning. The electricity settles in again, but is broken by the abrupt stop of the train.

An enthusiastic stewardess comes to escort the two of you off the train. She’s pretty and she notices Zuko immediately.

“Welcome to Ba Sing Se!” She chirps happily, more at Zuko than you. You can’t help your irrantional flare of jealousy.

Zuko, noticing your aggravation, slings an arm over your shoulders and smirks.

“Yes, sweetheart. Welcome to Ba Sing Se.”

You give him a hard elbow to the ribs, and laugh at his grunt of pain.

Iroh is waiting with open arms when you get off of the train. He immediately takes Zuko off of your hands, and tries to smoosh Zuko as close to his body as he can. Zuko does a very un-Zuko thing and hugs back with as just as much force. It warms your heart to see them interact. Iroh breaks the embrace and hugs you next.

“It’s so good to see you both again!” He says. “And with such happy news.” Iroh wiggles his eyebrows and winks at the two of you.

“Uncle!” Zuko groans, throwing his hands up exasperatedly.

“Sorry, Sorry. Couldn’t help myself, y/n.” Iroh chuckles.

“It’s ok!” You try to say brightly, but it comes out breathy. If you don’t get it together, you’ll expose your own lie before anyone else can.

Zuko takes your hand in his, and shoulders both of your bags on his other arm. You do everything you can not to think about the fact that Zuko’s incredibly warm hand is wrapped around yours. You definitely don’t think about what this hand has done before, or what it could do if it wanted.

“Uncle, where are we staying?” Zuko asks.

For once you’re grateful to the heat of Ba Sing Se, for it camouflages the fact that you’ve started to sweat.

“We’ve set up a lovely house for you two and all of your friends! You’ll all be together.” Iroh says, bouncing around.

“Is anyone here yet?” You ask him. You can fight the excitement bubbling up inside you. You hadn’t seen your friends in a long time, and soon they’d all be here!

“Everyone but Aang and Miss Katara.” Iroh says. “They’ll be here later.”

You have an extra pep to your step as you wind through the streets of Ba Sing Se. Zuko laughs at your enthusiasm, and squeezes your hand. Iroh notices and practically starts glowing. A stab of something goes through you as you think about the lie you’re telling, but it all fades away as you let yourself enjoy the moment and the warmth of Zuko’s hand.

_________________________________________

In an effort to keep peace and spread good will, Ba Sing Se had been selected to host the annual Peace Celebration- a celebration honoring the peace ushered in by the Avatar, the end of the war, and the continuing efforts to preserve it. Ba Sing Se had been the natural choice to host the whole affair. Not only was it the biggest city, but it was the most neutral. And Ba Sing Se certainly knew how to throw a party.

You and the group were currently sandwiched tightly around a table. The whole Gaang was here. When you had arrived at the house, it had been a nonstop hug fest. Everyone had been so glad to see each other. Toph had taken you to your room across from hers, while Sokka had taken Zuko to his. You had fully expected the shakedown from Toph about your relationship, but she had said nothing. That scared you more than anything, because it could only mean she was waiting for the right time.

Zuko had told you about Toph’s ability to sense lies, and you had been privileged enough to see it first hand. If anyone was going to figure out your secret it was Toph.

You had wanted to get Zuko alone and tell him about your fears, but there hadn’t been time. Aang and Katara had arrived and then everyone had to get ready for the party. Now you were all here, and it was basically life as usual. Except for the fact that you were anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Katara and Aang were making eyes at each other, Sokka and Toph were competing to see who could hold their liquor better (Toph of course was winning), Zuko and Iroh were engaged in a discussion of the rebuilding of Ba Sing Se, and that left you and Suki to make awkward conversation.

You admired Suki a lot, but you hadn’t really gotten to know her well. Both of you had been sitting in silence. Suki takes a slow sip of her drink, and twirls the edges of her short brown hair.

“So you and Zuko?” She asks, nodding her head at the arm Zuko had wrapped around your shoulders.

You take a long sip of your drink, and then nod.

“Yeah.” You say quietly.

You had been waiting on pins and needles all night for this. Toph had yet to spring her trap, and Suki’s question seemed to catch the attention of the entire table.

“Yeah! Tell us how that happened!” Sokka says, half of his drink spilling over the rim of his mug. Like Zuko, Sokka has grown into a man since the war, well a childish man but a man none the less.

“Well...” You start.

“It just happened.” Zuko interjects, saving you. You start to take another sip to finish your drink. “And then y/n jumped my bones.” He laughs.

The surprise of his statement chokes you, and you start coughing. Zuko breaks into carefree laughter, and starts patting your back. The Gaang quickly joins in laughing, except for Toph, who cocks her head and stares with unseeing eyes at Zuko.

“I’m...going...to....murder....you.” You tell him, as you try to catch your breath. Zuko smiles warmly at you, and reaches up to smooth a piece of hair behind your ear. Your heart skips a beat, as he catches your eyes with his.

Toph and Sokka resume their contest, and you sigh with relief. Maybe she’ll be too drunk to tell or care if you’re lying. Zuko catches your eyes again, and it’s all you need to know that you guys are on the same page. Crisis momentarily averted.

“Come on, let’s dance.” Zuko says, pulling you away from the table.

“Zuko? Dance?” You hear someone mutter behind you.

“Zuko, if we act too different they’ll find out!” You hiss at him when you’re a distance away from the table. You try desperately to wiggle out of his grip.

He ignores you, and seamlessly incorporates you with the other dancers.

“I just want to dance with my girlfriend.” He bends his head down, whispering in your ear. “Is that too much to ask?”

He has a wicked grin on his face when he pulls away, and you would give anything to be able to bend him across the room.

“It is when you never do that! You never danced with Mai.” You point out, and then instantly regret it. Mai was a sore spot with Zuko. You watch as Zuko freezes, losing his buoyancy from earlier.

“I would’ve. She always said no.”

You shuffle closer in your embrace trying to offer him some comfort. You always put your foot in your mouth.

Zuko and Mai’s breakup had been awful. The relationship had been bad for a year, but when it finally came to a head, it had been explosive. Zuko had been positively horrid to deal with for weeks.

“Oh.” You say like a genius, but it isn’t really your fault that you can’t speak in coherent sentences with him holding you like this.

“Yeah.” Zuko says, and you know that if you don’t act now he’ll brood for the rest of the night.

“Well I’m a hell of a better dancer than Mai, so you’ve definitely upgraded.” You say flippantly.

Zuko smiles at you and pulls you closer.

“I certainly did.” He says.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, your close proximity, or the fact that Zuko has just told you that you are an upgrade from your biggest rival, but something in you snaps. Without warning, you find yourself leaning up and pressing a kiss to Zuko’s lips.

(A/N: I’m doing a part 2! This just seemed like a story that needed to be broken into two parts! Let me know if you enjoyed it and don’t forget to submit a request if you want me to write something! I do write for multiple fandoms! I’m currently working on my other requests so keep an eye out for those this week! You should be able to see all the fanfiction I’ve written by clicking on my tag slythergirlimagines)

[sadistgalore]

Chapter 15: Luther's Brilliant Fucking Plan

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

CW: dehumanization, pet whump, lady whump, captivity whump, referenced torture (branding and burning), hair pulling/grabbing, referenced noncon, blackmailing, death threats, multiple whumpers, multiple whumpees, manhandling, shock collars, infidelity, creepy/intimate/delusional/sadistic/possessive whumper(s), noncon touching, noncon kissing, stabbing, implied torture/noncon

“So, how was she?” Dark asked as he sat down in the chair opposite Luther on the couch, both of their pets kneeling next to them.

He had returned from Maryland not even five minutes ago, giving a short greeting to his friend and a heartfelt kiss to his housewife.

“Oh, she was wonderful, Ed. You trained her well,” Luther said with a shit eating grin.

Dark chuckled, pleased that his defiant pet behaved so well for his best friend. Her hands were twisting and pulling the fabric of her dress, but he couldn’t care less at the visible discomfort on her face.

“I’ve noticed she has a few more scars than when I left her, including a brand,” he said in a low voice, face in a scowl once he stared at the designed burn on her right arm.

Luther didn’t look the least bit threatened at his friend’s dangerous tone. “Believe me, it was justified. She made a new friend,” he said in a mocking tone before harshly pulling at his pet’s hair.

Killian gasped as his scalp was pulled, every instinct telling him to sit still, though. His arms had healed fairly well, but the burns on his face would be deeply scarred for a while, if not forever.

“I see he had his own share of punishment as well,” Dark added, looking at the boy’s scarred face and arms.

“Your girl tried to feed him against my permission, then her defiance rubbed off on him. But I had them under my control soon enough,” Harper forced down a whimper as she recalled the horrific week of rape and torture she had spent with the man, who wasn’t sharing even a fraction as he should have with her captor. But she knew better than to say anything.

She then felt hands gripping her chin, taking her out of her thoughts. “Harper, did he touch you at all like the way I do?”

The girl swallowed as she stared at the familiar and possessive look on her captors face, before fearfully glancing over at the man on the couch. Luther’s face was emotionless, but she knew his mind was threatening her if she dared to tell the truth.

The kitty had finally stopped crying, knees tucked up to her chest on the bed. She and the dog, who was still tied to the chair, were staring at each other, regret in the dog’s and anger in the other.

“I’m gonna tell him, as soon as he gets back,” the kitty promised, throat scratchy and raw by the night they had shared together.

The man finished zipping his pants and rolled his eyes, not bothered to talk as he reached down to grab his shirt off the floor.

Kitty painfully sat up, pissed that he wasn’t paying attention to her. “I’m serious. He’s the only one allowed to rape me, he told you-”

Doggy screamed as his shock collar was set off yet again. Master grabbed his hair painfully, forcing him to look at Kitty.

“He. Is. Mine. Like you are Edward’s. Ed can do whatever the fuck he wants to do with you when I’m gone, just like I can do whatever the fuck I want to do with him. No one will care if I kill him, understand? If I even suspect that Edward knows what happened here tonight, and what will continue to happen, your precious little Ian is going to have a long and painful death. Understand?”

Kitty didn’t respond, just let out a small sob and rolled back over on the bed. The man smiled as he let go of the dog’s hair, walking out of the bedroom leaving two broken pets behind.

Harper breathed out, trying to not give away the emotion on her face, for Killian’s sake. “No, just the brand and a few beatings, Master. I was good for him just like you told me to.” It was forced, she knows, but best not to make him angry when he just got back.

Dark smiled, patting her head. “Very good girl. Sorry for the accusation, Lou, you know how I get about my pets.”

Luther laughed. “No worries, Ed. Besides, I would never dream of touching her.”

Killian’s heart dropped as he stared at the girl, watching her try so hard to keep a straight face and not tell what really happened.

All for him.

Dark changed the subject matter quickly. “Anyways, did you hear the news? Helene’s going away to Philadelphia for three weeks.”

Harper looked up confused. Helene? As in Congresswoman Helene McKinley? Beth’s boss?

“Really?” Luther questioned. “She never leaves DC.”

“Had to take care of a personal matter. She ensured the subject will be one of ours soon.”

“Very good. What does that leave you then?”

“I was thinking of taking Harper back to my base again,” Dark started, fingers flowing through his pet's raven hair to keep himself calm. “Possibly my manor, but you know how my gang loves to talk. And with how often Noah comes around, he’ll be sure to share my new pet with Noami. I’m afraid it’s too much of a risk to my marriage to take her anywhere but here.”

Luther chuckled. “Noami will never stop running her mouth to Helene if she finds out. ‘Helene did you hear? Your Edward found himself another slut to fuck behind your back! If you don’t murder his ass right now, I will do it for you!’” He finished the imitation with a smile, but Harper couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not when she stared at him.

Dark laughed at the scene, but continued. “Unfortunately, coming here to Delaware constantly prevents me from running my base in DC. I can’t let her be another one of my one-offs, she’s,” the man stopped to grasp her chin again, thumb running over her lip, “Special.”

Luther sat in silence for a moment, then spoke up as if a lightbulb had just casted a light over his head. “How about taking her to my building? The top floor is a private penthouse that I only have access to, with tons of rooms and space for you two to live. You’ll be easily able to travel between your base and there, and I could watch her while you’re gone!”

Watch her while you’re gone. Harper wished she had the nerves to scream her protests against the idea. But in reality, which one is the lesser of two evils? A sadistic man who sees her as nothing but a kitty, or a delusional man who sees her as a housewife that he can kill at any moment?

Dark scratched her chin, pondering the idea. Killian stared blankly ahead, a distant part of him hoping his Master’s idea would work; maybe he could see Harper more.

“You know, Lou, I think I’ll take your deal,” Edward said after a moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s not a problem for you?”

Luther waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I barely use it anyways. You can even use it after Helene comes back or for as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Luther,” Dark said with a genuine smile, not the creepy one he always uses on Harper. “I owe you one.”

Luther nodded, scratching his pet's hair one last time before getting up. “Well, I should be getting back. Give me a call when you’re coming, and I’ll be sure to sneak you in.”

Dark got up as well, going out to shake his friend's hand. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Luther. We’ll be there by tomorrow evening.”

You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Beth.

Luther shook back with a smile. “Oh, I know. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

I know, Harp. Now come on, we gotta catch the bus to get back home.

How do I get back home to you, Beth?

“Come on, Kill.” Killian rushed to get up, back hunched as he stood next to his master. As Dark walked towards the door to open it for him, Luther quickly turned around towards Harper, his dangerous gaze vastly different from his friendly one just a minute ago.

“If you say anything, I’ll kill him,” Luther whispered, hand gripping Killian’s neck as he raised an eyebrow at Harper.

Harper gave a slight nod, staring at Killian before mouthing, Goodbye, Ian.

The boy swallowed against the tight hold. Goodbye, Harper.

Luther rolled his eyes and pushed the boy towards the door, giving Dark one final goodbye before leaving. The said man closed and locked the door, loosening his tie as he walked back to his pet.

Harper’s instincts were screaming at her to run away from his predatory walk, but she stayed kneeling before her hair was harshly grabbed and she was pulled to her feet. “Oh, darling,” Dark said with a sick smile. ”It’s been so long since I’ve heard you scream.”

The pain on her scalp was relieved just before she was thrown across the room, back hitting the couch before falling to the floor. She shakingly looked up, expecting anger from her captor, but all she saw was lust. The extreme lust to hurt her.

Harper whimpered, lips trembling as she moved back until she hit the TV stand behind her. Why did this have to be her life? She was a good person- she was a detective for God’s sake. She devoted her life to searching for her brother who everyone said was dead. She worked to expose the most dangerous and corrupt people in her city with her best friend. And now she was a fucking pet for one of them, the same man that ruined her life seven years ago.

The girl heaved in before she broke down sobbing, her fight leaving as her reality came crashing down. The previous discussion was two sick men talking about moving her, so no one will know where she is. Or even alive. And if she wasn’t useful to him anymore, she would die.

Dark cooed as he kneeled down, fingers brushing the hair out of her face. “Oh, sweetheart, I know. You’re just so excited to see me. Don’t worry, I’ll make up for all the time we missed.”

Harper couldn’t even plead for mercy before her vision partially blacked out. Her head erupted in pain as it was slammed into the stand behind her. Through the fog that formed in her vision, she felt herself be laid down on the ground, and a heavy weight be placed on her waist.

She heard a murmur from above her. “Daddy missed his toy.” Dark’s face leaned down, lips trailing her neck. She felt his breath on her face that smelled of tobacco. Then she was forced to listen to her shirt being ripped open.

The man kissed her lips, passionately and with emotion that shouldn’t come from a man like him. His tongue slid in, trailing her gums and teeth and making sure to consume every part of her. Harper suddenly screamed when a knife was plunged into her shoulder, shrills and pleas being drowned out by the kiss as the knife dug deeper into her skin.

Dark pulled back, stomach filling with joy as he saw the tears cover her face, his finger going to trace the wound in blood. He made sure to coat himself in it before touching her face again, smearing her own blood there. He smiled maniacally as Harper’s scream almost shook the room when his thumb dug into the wound, every movement causing her face to contort in unbearable pain.

She’s never looked so beautiful.

“I love you, Evie,” he said before hungrily kissing the girl on the floor again, screams never stopping as she writhed under the man who would never let her go.

---

Nic almost fell off his chair as he heard a knock on his front door. His hair was a mess, eyes sunken and colored due to many sleepless nights, and clothes that had not been changed since five days ago. He scrambled to open it, seeing the familiar blonde and curly hair of the secretary.

“Beth,” Nic said in almost disbelief. From their falling out yesterday, he had figured she wouldn’t want to see him at all. But the girl looked at him with a sudden determination he had not seen the previous day.

“Let’s find Harper and expose these fucking bastards.”

Nic smiled and stepped back to let her in. “After you, Mrs. Carrien.”

[djemsostylist]

Of Queens and Trash

Here’s the thing. SCK has been on a downward trend since 13. The breakup was long, getting together again was tiring, the amnesia plot was poorly handled and the mess that came following his recovery was, well, a mess. The necessary break for covid gave us a chance for a fresh start for Edser. All the bad stuff in the past, and a focus in the last episodes of them being able to finally fulfill all the promises they had not been able to. After all, this was a story that, at its core, was about two people who met and fell in love and who, no matter what, chose to be together. Invisible handcuffs. And with the return of the OG writer, it seemed we might finally get that. After 39 episodes of angst and only 7(?) of real togetherness, surely it was time? Forget the pain of the past, and start with Edser navigating their world together.

And then the trailer dropped. And all of a sudden, all the people who had spent months eviscerating Serkan for behaving badly in the 30s were celebrating this new plot, the “great angst” and Eda “being a Queen.”

For me, I can’t get over the hiding of the child. It's a hardline deal breaker. I don’t think it matters who writes it, I think it's an awful plotline. No matter how "good" the trailer looks or moments seem, I will remember that I was watching a show about two people who loved each other and never wanted to be apart, about a man who learned how to open his heart, and this ruined it all.

Now, I think it's worth noting that my hard line, in this particular case, is in response to Edser, if that makes sense. I’m not hardline, “if this is in a story I’m not watching”. If it works for the characters and story because that is the type of story being told, then fine.

I don't subscribe to the woke feminism brand of "all women are Queens and all men are Trash" which seems to be a trend of late (and not just in fandom). I think people are people and people are generally imperfect but also trying. I don’t think women, simply by virtue of carrying a child, get full say in what happens to the child, regardless of the father’s wishes. I'm not fond of a “hiding a kid storyline”, and while I get the whole "my body my choice" style of arguing, it took two people to make the baby. Two people get a say in what happens. I get you are growing the kid, but you didn't spontaneously conceive.

For me, Edser being apart and/or hiding a kid is a hardline. It doesn't fit with the characters as I know them and it doesn't fit with the storyline. And look--I hated the amnesia plot. I thought there were a literal million ways this could have been done better, but it's what we got. So for everyone suddenly defending this new plot, despite it making about as much sense as Eda getting married to make Serkan remember her, then that means everything goes. No blaming writers or ignoring canon...everything has context and meaning now. And since “it's realistic” is also a common refrain, then fine. Let’s go realistic.

Imagine being in a plane crash. You wake up, you have clear physical/mental blocks. For someone who likes to be in control, that's terrifying. You have a ring on your finger with a woman's name you don't know, and an entire year missing. You call the one person you know will come (since your parents and friends are useless) and she comes and tells you a story that jives. You can't remember shit and you keep getting flashes and your hands won't work, so you take what she tells you, because why would you have any reason to doubt? It’s not like you can remember anyway, and trying to remember hurts.

You finally go back home, and you recognize nothing about your own life. Friends, family...everything is different. Your mom is out, your dad is gone, your best friends are married. You don't even live in the same house, you have people working in your company you don’t know--even your dog is gone. And then you have a hysterical woman throwing pictures in your face of a man you don't recognize and your brain is still foggy and all your friends and family seem to be shrugging their shoulders at you.

You're terrified and alone and all you get is some vagueness about an epic love story and too much emotion and all you want to do is hide. From everything. Plus your heart is doing this thing every time the girl is near and you think you might be dying maybe and remember how your brother died?

So, the girl kisses you, you literally feel like you might be dying, and it's like naw. Fuck this. I'm getting back an ounce of control. So you propose to Selin. I mean you don’t love her and you barely want her but at least she is the same. At least she hasn’t changed, and at least she doesn’t stare at you with the weight of a million expectations that everyone else does. At least she doesn’t look at you and hope to see a man you can’t ever remember being.

But then the girl everyone claims is your soulmate is suddenly engaged to another man, and spends every moment after that claiming she hates you, she is over you, she is better off/happier without you, doesn't need you.

So it's like, okay, what is the truth. Your brain isn't helping, your friends aren't helping, she isn't helping. So you lash out, you close off, because really, what else is left. Your life isn’t your life, your mind isn’t your mind, you can’t even figure out what’s real and what isn’t. And she’s getting married and you want to die but she’s getting married and surely if she loved you she wouldn’t be doing this?

And then you get your memories back. Finally. Everything comes flooding back ,and it's a lot. You cope in shitty ways, you don't respond well, etc. You’ve returned from the dead twice, and everything feels just slightly off, but maybe you can make this work. At least you have her. After a few days, you’re feeling like your old self. You've got your memories, your girl, the possibility of the future you had snatched twice, and then BOOM. She rejects you, out of nowhere.

Won't talk, won't communicate, you have no idea what the fuck is happening. She’s crying and sad but also not leaving but also not staying and your brain can’t quite work things out but all you can do is promise that you love her, only her, always her, forever. Surely she must know that by now, right?

And then she tells you about the baby. You can't remember the sex of course, but then you find out it probably happened while your brain was fucked, and you barely have time to process this before oh yeah the love of your life is leaving you bc she would rather you raise a baby with your rapist. And suddenly you might be dying, again.

But you stop her. You stop her and even though she says she didn’t come back for you, why else would she have stayed? So, you finally get her back, she tattoos you on her finger and maybe just maybe everything will be fine when BOOM. Cancer. You aren't even over the other shit, and you have a fucking tumor. You are 30 years old, you've survived a plane crash, amnesia, and now you have a tumor. How many times can a person die?

And so you don’t cope well. You withdraw, you back away. Your brother died when he was young, you know what that does to a person. You know what it did to your family. You have this fear that curls around your heart that says “but what if she becomes my mother.” And she goes. She leaves and she takes your heart and your child (that you don’t even know about) and it’s like...fuck. Again. Because everyone leaves you, eventually. And somehow, it’s always your fault.

So, what I'm saying is, Eda endured a lot, sure. She was hurt. Their breakup in 14 was hard and I’m not denying that (although there is another post I could write about how since Eda never actually uses her words to tell him how she feels he can, perhaps, be understood in assuming that breaking up after barely being together would hurt but also that she would move on and live her life happily without him. Which I guess season 2 proves…) Losing Serkan to an accident/amnesia was hard, looking at the body of the man she loves but not seeing the man she loves must have been agony. But Serkan was fucking wrecked. So instead of choosing to write a plot where they both get to heal, where they both get to explore their pain and work through it together, we get Serkan who reverted to being a robot to cope with massive trauma and PTSD, and essentially is abandoned by everyone, again.

I guess what I'm saying is, if staying with him and supporting him when he was dealing with trauma was too much for her, then fine.That is very true for some people, and it’s certainly realistic. But I don't really think that jives with Eda and her character, and while it isn't a trauma competition, I'd still think Serkan comes out a winner here. Eda lost her parents, which was awful. She lost him, but she got him back. Twice. His trauma is losing his brother, being abandoned by his parents, a plane crash, amnesia, emotional manipulation/abuse and cancer. And then he gets punished by having his daughter taken away from him because he was having a hard time coping. Keeping a kid a secret isn't "protecting the child" it's punishing the father.

Tl;dr The direction they have taken the characters is gross for both mains, but if people are trying to justify Eda keeping his child from him because “he deserves it” or “she did what was best for her” then I think we maybe haven’t been watching the same show. Even if he said “I don’t want kids,” saying that to a hypothetical child is very different then being told “a baby is very much our reality.” Because that's the crux right? It's not that he decided he just didn't want to be a father ever, he's scared of having a family and losing them or of them losing him. And then she made that very fear be realized. Which is tragic and quite the opposite of what his life partner needed to do in that situation.

Bitte.

Thanks to @lolo-deli for the proofread and the final lines, you are the best. And for putting up with my uncontrollable ranting about this for days.

[kareenvorbarra]

zimrahin

This is just a little bit of fic I wrote years ago about Zimrahin, Malach Aradan's wife and one of the early Edain women who's basically just a name on a family tree. Of course, names of family trees are some of my favorite characters, because my brain looks at them and goes "it's free real estate" and I pretty much do whatever I want with them.

I originally started this story for a Silm fandom event that happened......seven years ago now, yikes, which was called Edain Summer. Juliana and I organized it, and only a handful of people participated, mostly people we were friends with at the time, but we used it as an excuse to create detailed headcanons about every Adan we could find. This fic was supposed to be kind of a companion for our headcanon post, which you can read here if you're interested, but I could never think of an ending so I just never posted it.

The short version of my Zimrahin headcanon is that she's from an influential family in the House of Marach (which won't be called the House of Hador until later), and when Malach returns from Fingolfin's court, their families arrange a marriage between them, as Malach's father wants him to settle down among his own people again. Zimrahin is nervous but optimistic, and they end up being well-matched and happy together.

The whole thing is only about a page, so I'm going to post it all under the read more. There are also a couple sentences of notes in brackets at the bottom.

Zimrahin’s marriage to Malach son of Marach took place only two months after his return from Hithlum. Ordinarily even an arranged match would take longer, giving the couple a little more time to get to know each other, but Zimrahin accepted her parents’ decision with few misgivings. She had known Marach her whole life, and he had always been kind and generous - if Malach was anything like his father, he would be a good husband.

It was difficult not to be shy of him, at first. He was ten years older than her, and had seen and done so many things that she could not even begin to imagine. He dressed differently, in fabrics finer than anything their people made, and the way he held himself made him seem taller than most men. He smiled and spoke to her with an easy courtesy the few times they met before the wedding, but she could not completely shake the impression that he was a bit strange.

He seemed confident and sure on their wedding night, treating her with a consideration that went a long way towards calming her nerves, and she was able to relax and enjoy herself. Afterwards she did wonder how many elven women he had bedded during his time in the High King’s court, but that wasn’t the sort of thing you brought up after being married for a day.

They spent a great deal of their time in the early days visiting Zimrahin’s friends and acquaintances, as she helped introduce Malach back into his own society. Her family was large and powerful, second only to Marach’s own among their people, and she knew everyone of note in Estolad. Malach was as personable and charismatic as his father, but he did not have Marach’s instinctive knowledge of the people here and how they thought and behaved, their friendships and factions and feuds. As such he was very grateful for her help, and praised her good memory for names and details.

When they were alone, she asked him about the elves, both in an attempt to learn more about her mysterious husband and because she was genuinely curious. Sometimes he took a few moments to respond when called by name, which he assured her was only because the elves had called him something else - Aradan. It meant “noble man” in their language, and Zimrahin thought it suited him well.

It seemed to Zimrahin that she became pregnant almost instantly after the wedding, so quickly did time pass in her busy new life.

[he starts calling her Meldis at some point, and she thinks it’s super sweet when he tells her it means “dear one” - he also teaches her some Sindarin]

[is Adanel’s name Sindarin? Magor is definitely not, it’s probably an old family name - maybe he’s named for Marach’s father, or Zimrahin’s. Maybe in Zimrahin’s family, the eldest daughter is traditionally educated in the manner of the Wise, so from her daughter’s birth Zimrahin intends for her to be taught by her own older sister.]