#you deserve to be treated with respect dignity and have control over your body Always. especially after you’re gone

[strixhaven]

transphobes always have such weird shit to say about archaeologists sexing bones and a lot of it’s just outright horseshit, but for anyone who legitimately doesn’t want to dispose of their body in a way that would leave bones like that, you likely have more options than you realize. this is very much coming from a us perspective and is something that varies heavily by state, but body disposition methods like aquamation and human composting are increasingly being legalized and worth looking into if a “traditional” burial or fire cremation isn’t something you want. thinking about end of life care and your death isn’t a pleasant thing by any means for most people, but having your end of life wishes clearly stated in legal writing (advanced directives are your best friend) and having someone who you know you can trust to follow through with what you want done to your body after death is Incredibly Important not only for yourself and your own peace of mind, but also those who are dear to you and in mourning when you’re gone—grief and the loss of someone you’re close to are never easy, but having a roadmap and a clear idea of what you want done after you’re gone is one less struggle they have to deal with and makes people far less able to be exploited in the aftermath of someone’s death by parts of the funeral industry that prey upon grieving folks in order to get them to unnecessarily spend exorbitant amounts of money.

[armpirate]

The Only One || JJK || Ch. 24

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Of course he was back. There was no way Sanhyuk wouldn't know about Jungkook's doing, or how he planned to pay her a short visit while he was away. And clearly the man that was standing in front of her didn't have a plan. He always tried to play smarter than everyone else, but lacked those skills when he needed them the most. 

—In the closet —she rushed him. 

Pushing his big body towards the small place, she tried to cover him with some of the clothes that were hanging before she closed the door and went back to acting as if nothing happened when she heard the door opening. 

—What's with the attack mode? —Sanhyuk joked, stepping inside the room— I just came here to congratulate you. Good job —he pinched her bruised cheek, making her let out a low whine—.  Now you deserve me being good to you. See? I gave you back the light.

When his eyes were back on her after he pointed at everywhere around him, he was disappointed at her lack of reaction -or participation- on what he was saying. Sanhyuk chuckled, towering over her after taking one step in her direction. 

—I did something for you, what should you say?

Her jaw was clenched at his comment, forcing herself to say the words he wanted to hear so his ego would be filled for the day. 

—Thank you —she whispered.

—Good girl.

Sanhyuk smiled proudly at those two words, standing back straight before he looked around the room. He was looking suspiciously over her shoulder, tilting his head while twisting his jaw, before he walked past her. Y/n tried to keep her facade intact, but deep inside she was making a hell out of her mind for a few seconds, only being able to hear the bumping of her own heart -as if it wanted to break her chest to set free- and the sound of his shoes against the floor. He kept getting closer to the closet, and she tried to think if she had made a sound or if Jungkook had made it too obvious he was there. Sanhyuk just squatted momentarily, clicking his tongue as he picked up the dress from the floor. 

—This is not how you should treat the clothes you're given —shaking his head in disappointment, he only glanced at her for a second.

Before he could make the attempt to raise his arm to grab the knob, she snatched the fabric from his hand, making him turn suddenly to her. 

—You're right —she agreed, fast—. I should show more respect for the gifts you're giving me —her gaze dropped to the floor.

She didn't know why she was protecting Jungkook. At the end of the day, he had more to lose if he was seen there than her, because it wasn't like her life could get any worse. All she knew was that the desperation to avoid Sanhyuk peeking inside the closet was way bigger than her dignity in that moment, because in any other circumstances she would have never answered that way to the man who was standing with a smirk in front of her. 

—I knew you'd be back to your senses soon —he nodded—. Keep up with this attitude, and I might sell you to one good guy. Or at least one that seems like it.

Jungkook tried his best trying to remain calm inside the closet when he heard that. He was sure Sanhyuk only wanted her to play a dirty game against him, but he never dared to think about the aftermath of his whole plan. Just thinking of Y/n in that same space again, surrounded by men while they waited to auction for her, and do god knows what, that was making his blood boil. 

Darkness suddenly turned into light as she opened the door for him, helping Jungkook to stand and get out of the small corner. He was fuming, she had seen that same shape of his lips whenever he was too angry to actually say a word. Both of his hands were on his hips, trying to gain some control back of his own mind and senses. He wouldn't get to a solution if he was in that state. 

—You weren't going to tell me? —he whispered.

She knew about Sanhyuk's plan after she overstepped some boundaries a few days back. He assured her she wasn't of help anymore, that Jungkook was already in a dangerous state where anything could make him explode and turn upside down the way everything was settled. Actually, earlier that day she thought that all the dress and fancy treatment was because the big day came. 

—I'm not your problem anymore, why should I? —she answered back.

—You are my problem —Jungkook emphasized every single letter—. You've always been since you set foot here. 

—Even if that was the case, when was I supposed to tell you? Huh? Or, better, how? Because inside this room I'm not even able to do smoke signs.

Jungkook tried to think, at the best speed he was able to and with the better ideas that could come to him at that point. Jungkook would only get in trouble if he showed up at the auction, or if he broke into his place to take her. But if she was the one running away, there was no way Sanhyuk could do anything about it. 

—Okay, has he told you when he's going to make it?

—He just mentioned it'll be in the next big sale —Y/n responded confused.

Jungkook dropped his hands at both sides of his body, realizing that meant that Sanhyuk was going to do it the next day. That barely gave him any time to react. 

—Okay, we'll do this —he started—: you're going to escape —aware of her even more confused gaze, he explained himself—. That auction usually takes place around ten, we'll be waiting outside and when the insider tells me you're coming out, we will distract them. If you hear gunshots or something loud, like a bomb, that'll be your sign. Run as fast as you can down the street and turn right at the first crossing. I will be waiting for you with a car. 

—I don't know... —she gulped nervously.

Her eyes met his when he cupped her face in his hands, assuring her everything will be alright if they do things as he told her. 

—I got you into this, and I'll take you out of it —his hands went lower to her neck—. Do you trust me? 

—It's not like I have any other choice.

Jungkook chuckled at that typical answer from her. Kissing her forehead, he wrapped his arms around her. It was the softest moment they had ever shared since they met each other, and the fact that they were in that situation only made it feel more intimate than it would ever have.

—I'm sorry —she whispered.

—For what?

—All of this —Y/n felt her voice trembling, but still continued with what she wanted to say—. I shouldn't have trusted Sanhyuk.

—I'm the one who should apologize —Jungkook assured her—. I shouldn't have thrown you to him the way I did weeks ago. I should've known better than falling for his game —he scoffed as he spoke—. I probably wouldn't have reacted that way if you had gone to the police, or sided with anyone else. But the fact that it was him made me furious, and I couldn't see past that phone —she felt his chest rising with his sigh—. I promise I'll take you out of here, even if it's the last thing I'll do.

✸ ✸ ✸

Her whole body felt funny while she waited for the moment that door would open again.

She didn't know how or when, but Jungkook left before she could wake up to see him one last time before his plan took place. He kept encouraging her to go to sleep that night, and get energy for what would come up, while constantly assuring that he'd be cautious and would be alert for the moment he'd be able to get out of there. 

And it actually seemed like that. She knew that if Jungkook had been caught inside that place, Sanhyuk would've wasted no time in waking her up and getting her ready for another one of his lessons. 

Time kept passing by inside that room, although it was so slow that she thought she was trapped in a time capsule. Maybe it was the nervousness, maybe it was the excitement to get out of there and go back to her routine inside Jungkook's house. She just couldn't tell what it was, but she was sure that that day was way slower than any other day she had been there. 

Until a man broke inside her room and dragged her outside. Unlike what she thought, she didn't get out of the house, instead she was closed inside a darker room than hers, where a young girl was curling in the corner. 

She couldn't help, but feel horrified at the thought of that girl being in the same situation as her. Her physical condition was even worse than hers, not because of the wounds or bruises, but how malnourished she looked. Her whole body was trembling in that one spot, while she kept her face hidden from everyone. 

It wasn't like the conversation would flow in between them naturally, Y/n forced it to happen when she started asking questions that were left unanswered by the girl. At first, she gave up, thinking that the girl didn't speak Korean and she was wasting her time trying to hold a conversation with her. At least those were her thoughts until a thin and weak voice broke the silence again. 

 —Eunsook —she mentioned, answering Y/n's question about her name. 

—That's one beautiful name —Y/n tried to get closer to her—. I'm Y/n. 

The room was filled with silence again, although this time it was Eunsook the one who interrupted it by throwing another question, that sounded drowned because of her face still being stuffed in her own arms. 

—Why are you here?

—I did something dumb —she sighed—. What about you?

—Nothing. I was coming back from high school, and then I was here.

Y/n pressed her lips together when she heard her answer. The fact that that girl was there, for no reason, made her think of the person she dared to trust all her life to. She seriously helped a person that would do that to a girl that was probably not older than twenty. 

—They kept saying something about my dad, but I don't know what that has to do with me.

The girl finally lifted her head from her arms, showing a swollen and bruised face that made all the hairs in her body raise with horror. 

How could anyone do something like this to a girl?

—I know I always complained about studying —she sobbed—, but I just want to go back to that. There's nothing I want more right now. I want to be called out for my grades and my behavior in school.

Instinctively, Y/n dragged her body on the floor just so she could hug the girl that was desperately crying in her arms. She was surprised by the way she saw herself reflected on that girl. And could be it was because she remembered having those same thoughts back when she was eighteen, she remembered that same feeling. She could see herself in that girl. Although, the only difference was that that girl was forced into those thoughts, while she brought them to herself. 

—I need you to listen to me —she only broke the hug to look into the girl's wet eyes—. You're good at English, aren't you? Take this as the final exam to pass the course, alright? —seeing the girl nod, Y/n continued— Did they tell you you were going to leave today?

Eunsook nodded slowly, remembering how one of those men told her to get ready for her new life.

—Okay —Y/n sighed—. When we get out of here, there will be a loud sound that might scare you. I'll be by your side all the time. As soon as you hear that, run. I need you to do it. Just run as fast as you can down the street. Don't worry about me, okay? Just run fast down the street and turn right on the first crossing. A car will be waiting for us. Get inside, and don't look back.

Even if that plan was meant for her only, there was no way she'd be able to leave that girl behind. Not in that moment, and with no fault for anything. 

✸ ✸ ✸

Eunsook kept sobbing while being pushed outside of the building, trying to stop her tracks from advancing, but only being called out by the same bodyguards that wanted her to move. 

A sudden noise got everyone shaking up, looking around paranoidly, losing every bit of attention on the young girl that was feeling her arms lighter. That seemed to be her sign to run, just like Y/n told her. At first, her feet didn't respond to what her brain was screaming at her to do. She was too scared to start running, fearing the way those men could react or do to her if she didn't get out of there in time. 

A second loud noise made her jump, and as she saw everyone being too focused on the noises, she finally breathed deeply to set herself free from the hands that were barely closing around her elbows. 

She ran fast down the street, following Y/n's instructions, running in zig zags -just like her father also taught her, in case of an emergency-, while all those people kept screaming at her and going after her. She could feel them way too close to her body, before she turned right at the first crossing she saw, finding a black car poorly parked over the pavement. 

No second thoughts were needed when she heard her name being called from a distance by a masculine voice. She opened the door, jumped inside the car and just felt the engine roaring before they started their way back to a safe place.

A man with some face piercings, and completely dressed in a dark suit looked at her, eyes wide open as he tried to guess who she was.

—You're not Y/n. Where's Y/n? 

Trying to gain some breath, Eunsook was only able to shake her head, remembering Y/n wasn't able to make it outside. Because she was never supposed to leave in the first place. 

Taglist: @kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc @amy2006jones

[knowltonsrangers]

fluff alphabet w/washington

[a/n: I did the first 13, I hope that’s okay! maybe I can finish it later, or at some other point!]

TURN!George Washington x reader

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Pretty much 80/20, per you the former. In moments of sure seclusion, expect him to be a bit more affectionate, yet, there is not necessarily a ton. He enjoys your presence alone, and there is no need to be all over each other to prove something he already knows.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Let’s be real, he’s a tired dad-friend. Always looking out for you, and consistently has that low-energy look in his eyes unless he’s taking a glance your way. He’s an excellent friend, one that anyone would be lucky to have.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Absolutely not, sorry to disappoint! It will be one-sided if you insist, but he’s not going to turn you away. Most he’ll do his sit beside you with his arm around your shoulders, and that’s enough for him. Sleeping may account for different circumstances, but that’s aside, he’s not really going to entertain such a subject.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yeah, for sure! All he’s ever really wanted, tbh. He’s an alright cook, better at cleaning because he can reach all the high places.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

The right way. If he’s going to hurt your feelings, probably break your heart, he’s going to do it in private, and treat you with the upmost respect and dignity you deserve. His heart will break a bit if you cry, and will for sure hug you, if you would so wish.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I think he would know when he’s found the right one, and it is ultimately up to his partner when they decide that they’re ready. He’s ready when you are.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Though his temper is something he’s sometimes irrational about, every bone in this man’s body aches to just be sat by your side and nothing else. He’s not emotionally soft, he’s possibly a bit guarded, but none of that is for show, but his personality. Physically, he could throw you over his shoulder and carry you around like it was nothing to him, but he’s the gentlest soul around you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

In greeting, yeah. In goodbyes? Absolutely. For those times when you need it, or when he needs it? For sure. Randomly…I cannot say he’s a fan. If you nudge him and ask for one, he may be a bit more willing.

His hugs are like hugging a goddamn bear. Holds you tight and runs his hand up and down your back.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Most certainly in a moment of anger or a brewing fight. Says it in a moment when he can’t control his own words, because if he could, he probably would be too afraid to say them. He means them, wholeheartedly, just doesn’t quite know how to tell you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ehhh, no, I wouldn’t think so. Everyone knows that you two are happy together, so there’s really no grey area. He trusts you, you trust him.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He always goes to kiss your forehead or cheek, just because it’s something that can be done as he envelops you in a hug. It’s not his favorite, that I would say are the tips of your fingers, but he’s not one to argue about it.

I’d say he likes to be kissed on his forehead (while in bed or seated) or his palms, just because it’s places you’ve uniquely taken to.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Probably not the best, but certainly not the worst. Just kinda lets them do whatever they like and will keep an eye on them best he can. If he were to do such a task alone, he’d likely ask for your help.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s likely already up and working before you’ve even had a chance to blink, but while mornings can be lonely, it’s always those late afternoons that you long for. If for some reason he’s to be home in the morning, he’s staying in bed as long as he possibly can.

[swordduels]

A cruel little man he was indeed. Spoiled to get whatever he wished for without earning it. She had seen it all before through centuries and centuries after her own body had been buried. Men who decided to conquer by fear. Very few could keep their power without meeting a bitter end. Mostly by violence or degradation. Sometimes both. What a sweet disaster she had in her grasp. At first she saw no need to interfere but there was…potential. She had slumbered for so long only to be awakened by the storm. But it was no ordinary storm. Oh no. Circe could feel there was something changing inside that human. Unpolished as the methods were there was real magic flowing in their chest and this donkey of a man tried to crush the potential. “Oh I know you.” She drew out the words with a silky tone before teasing his ego by chuckling. “The water you drank gave me access to your mind…and body. I can hear all of your dirty secrets and step into your memories. I’ll be your shadow until the curse is undone but my name will always remain.`` At the end of her sentence she touched his forehead. “You will know my name, love. You can view it as a…marriage.” Circe coed gently. 

 After bragging about his position as king he seemed to catch on to her mockery. So his ears were working? Lovely. She chose to not elaborate on his title as a donkey king. It seemed he was confused as it was. Brought off balance by the brutality of each word. Regulus was a slow learner. Hmm. Would it destroy the fun if she told him what the curse was all about? At the moment she couldn’t decide and it was rather fun to see him sweat and struggle to understand the situation. Clarimonde stood up and faced him with a blank stare. How fast Regulus turned to them for answers when something was shaking his world even though he denied them any dignity or respect when they needed it. How insulting it was to be treated this way. Even though Circe was cruel in her methods she seemed to draw his attention while stomping hard on his ego. Crushing it to dust. When kindness didn’t work and respect gave no response there wasn’t much to be done. Clarimonde might have been crass towards him but did they really deserve this? So many feelings filled them at the same time. Conflicting ones that battled for attention. 

He was acting like a child. Why did they let a child take control over their life? “Did you say something?” They stared at him before eyeing the mark that was visible on his chest. What a fitting image for the donkey king. Circe had marked him and yet he was not fully transformed. As he lifted his arm Clarimonde did the same. Brown eyes met his golden gaze. While the wind moved around them there was a large burst of electricity from their body. It was enough to reach the trees and followed by loud crackling noises. Their hair was static from all the tension. “Regulus Cornealis. I, Clarimonde Lysistrate am aiding in this curse. You don’t have hands, they are hooves. You shall walk on all four as the donkey you are. You will no longer speak with a human tongue as all you speak is harmful. From this day on you will listen and once you have a change of heart so will your body.” Clarimonde’s fingers trembled but the voice was clear and filled with strength. They took a deep breath before releasing the magic which flew in full force with deafening noises. It felt more powerful than before. Saying the words with certainty made them focus. The downside was how much slower it was compared to his attacks. At any point he could blast Clarimonde to dust. 

Circe swirled to Clarimonde and kissed them on the cheek before she clapped her hands. “They grow so fast.” @fallesto

He had claimed the prize for himself, and when he held it within his hand, all he had seen for himself was nothing at all. No worth, no value, nothing at all, it was a bottle, nothing more than a bottle, Clarimonde had wasted their time, all it and they had tossed it across into the snow towards them, if they came all this way for a bottle of water then they were more than welcome themselves to partake and drink from it then and take their fill of it once and for all.

As they did not pay any attention, it was junk, hardly a relic of anything within the world, they knew all of them, they had done quite well with there time within the world in seeking them out and gathering them all for himself, as he turned, watched and would see well, something unique then, something special, something that he had never seen before.

An odd thing indeed.

When someone like himself would see something he has yet to see and understand within the world his hunger for it would not be able to be contained at all, he would wish it for himself, and it was as if his own stillness of time was working on her, working on Clarimonde and pushing time back and undoing everything that had happened to her as before he knew it, Clarimonde was herself once more, as if nothing had happened and so he did what he would do, only he did not kill Clarimonde right on the spot, instead he had taken it from her and drank the rest.

Downing the remains of the bottle.

As his eyes caught sight of something, as if it was a spirit, taking form, impossible to be seen with the naked eye, so it was a witch item, he could not see the spirits of the world. “You know me.” As he commented and watched, hearing the whispers within his ears. As he watched her move, twirl and dance around himself. “I am a king.” As he bragged and what a king he was indeed as he watched carefully. “Excuse me.” As he tilted his head to the side, was she daring to insult someone such as himself. “Impossible.2 As he laughed for the moment, she dared call him a king of donkeys, that was laughable, he was perfect, the greatest, the best, there was no one quite like him within the world, no one at all.

As he pulled back as she touched his lips. 

“Your name means nothing to me.” As she mocked him once more. “Clarimonde, what is the meaning of this.” As he breathed out the smoke and would listen to her, feeling something as he looked down at his white jacket and would stare there, opening it up to see, the white fur there and the burned symbol she had placed on him. “What …” A pause.

What was this, what was this nonsense, where had this come from, how was this even possible to someone such as himself as he stared down and looked at Clarimonde and then back down. As he raised his hand and pointed it at them both, very well, he was tired of these games, he would destroy them both and everything here, right here, right now and be done with it, to insult him and call him a donkey, they have violated him. 

[dienamights]

Not Your Best Man | D.Kaminari

✎ Denki Kaminari was resentful of all the things Katsuki Bakugou has, the high hero ranks, the fame despite his demeaning behavior, his intelligence, and most importantly, you.

✎ Protagonists: Denki Kaminari x Fem!Reader

✎ Word count: 5.2K

✎ Category: Smut MDNI, angst

✎ Caution(!): Smut MDNI, swearing, denki is jealous, bakuhoe is an asshole, mommy kink, loss of control of quirk during sex, degradation, praise, oral (male!receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm denial to a certain point, mention of puking, doing denki dirty in so many ways and I’m sorry but I’m also… not sorry.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s well! I’m here with @forrest-fern’s Seven Deadly Sins server Collab! I snatched Denki and chose Envy! I wasn’t able to get bakugou but you know damn well I’m squeezing his ass in there lmao (peep the banner you can see the boom boom boy) (shut up im not late shush)

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

Her hair is piled up and back, showing more of her delicate yet strong features. Skin so flawless his hands feel bound when he wants to touch it, afraid of staining it with his fingertips, not deeming himself worthy to taint it. Eyes brought out beautifully with makeup products she knew how to work to make her look even more gorgeous than she already is. Lips perfectly coated in lipstick, always formed in the littlest smile, and he feels compelled to kiss the product off of them.

The dress is perfect, it sits on her body as if it has been made just for her. Its fabric folds hugging her figure, following her curves. It’s color is gorgeous against her skin with long sleeves that cover her arms, the backless dress shows skin that begs him, taunts him to touch it and to guide her along with him. The collar exposes enough shoulders that teases him to bite and mark up. It's tight skirt pooled till the floor with a slit up to her left thigh. She looks stunning and he couldn't stop but linger his eyes on her.

She looks as though she is an angel, in the form of the most beautiful girl on earth. Mesmerising eyes, so crystal clear that he could see rivers, oceans, the whole world through them. No flower, no goddess, not even Aphrodite could ever compare to her beauty. She has the body of a dancer, lithe, supple and oh so beautiful. With every step she takes, it looks as though she’s floating, and Denki only became more convinced that he had been around an angel for the majority of his life and he -regretfully- only was able to realize it a bit too late.

Regretfully, because she wasn’t his, isn’t his, will never be his. Not the measly unimportant groomsman. No, she is the best man’s, Katsuki Bakugou’s, meant to be his forever. 

Bakugou’s BakugousBakugousBakugous… Dammit

“I do.” 

An adorable little boy dressed in a black tuxedo walks up and hands Kirishima a ring. He slips it on Mina's finger. The pastor smiles and turns to Mina. She wears a strapless wedding gown with embroidery on her bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads sewn on her gown. She wears a two-tier veil, with a matching crystal head-piece. She holds a French rose silk bouquet. Kirishima is stunning. He wears a black, single-breasted, satin tuxedo with a white-wing collar shirt.

The pastor repeats the question and receives the same reply. You watch her take his ring from a small girl dressed in pink and place it on his finger. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." 

"You may now kiss your bride." He does so, placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing his lips against hers. The pastor holds up his hands, bringing the cheering crowd to their feet.

Kirishima and Mina leave the gazebo, arms linked, with huge smiles on their faces. The best man, maid of honor, and the groomsmen and bridesmaids follow suit, falling in behind them. They stop near the end of the walk, forming the start of the receiving line. 

The family and guests file down, pausing for hugs and kisses and congratulating the young couple. Mina then turns around and throws her bouquet of flowers behind her. The women collide with each other as they try to catch it. 

She cheers loud when the bouquet falls in your hands, and you giggle and wave it around, the women’s disappointed groans muffled in your ears when you catch the beautiful vermillions of your partner, oblivious to the golden specks that have been eyeing your every move since you stepped foot into the wedding.

“You could’ve been more obvious about wantin’ me to put a ring on your finger.” Katsuki chuckles against your ear, standing behind you with his hands on your hips, both of you looking at the newlyweds as they enter the reception with everyone awwing at them as they did their first dance as husband and wife.

The sun has set long ago, the full moon hanging and illuminating the area beautifully, the fairy lights and lamps circling the area, making the happy couple look absolutely glowing, and you smile at the scene from outside the dance floor.

“They fell in my hands ‘Suki.” you giggle, lacing your fingers between his, “Besides, you already did, didn’t you?” 

“Hmm,” his breath tickles your ear, fingers twisting your engagement ring around your ring finger, “was forced to, after all that whinin’ ‘bout wantin’ to settle down and not knowin’ when we’ll see each other when we’re goin’ on missions, and cherishin’ the lives-” he fakes a snore and rests his full weight on your back, both of you laughing as you tip forward and he catches you in time, placing his hand on your waist again and swaying with you as you see your friends happier than they ever were.

You look perfect, standing there holding each other, absolutely and utterly disgusting. Denki stares at you, fire spreading in his abdominal, his lungs constricting with every breath he takes the longer he looks at you. Swaying together, Katsuki’s lips pressing against your temple and you letting out the most beautiful laugh, Denki can’t help but clench the front of his shirt at the sight, wishing, hoping for nothing more than to be in his shoes, being the one lucky enough to be able to hold you that close, the one that has the privilege to hear your laugh, the one to make you laugh.

“Hey Denki,” He is snapped back to reality when Kirishima stands in front of him, blocking his view from the flawless couple. “H-hey Eiji! Congratulations bro, you’re finally a married man!” They hug, Denki’s eyes never leaving you while Katsuki twirls you to face him and peppers kisses across your face. “Thanks man! Hey sorry, could you get Bakugou for me real quick, we’re taking a few pictures with the best man and the maid of honor.”

“Right away, man of the hour.” 

Oh God, oh God, he isn’t ready to face you yet. You look too pretty, he doesn’t feel worthy to be in your presence, driven to bow down and ask for forgiveness for even breathing the same as yours. And yet, you smile upon his arrival, even letting go of Bakugou’s hand to wave him over, and you’re blessing him with your smile, giggles sounding like the singing of angels when he waves back excitedly.

“Hi!” you beam up at him the minute he’s close enough to be graced with your voice, “Where have you been, it’s like you were avoiding me all this time,” you pout for a second and Denki could swear he felt his heart skip multiple beats when your lips wobble and a smile makes it way back up at him.

“H-hey, ummm, Baku- uh.” he laughs at himself, trying to collect whatever dignity he has left. “Uh, Eiji is lookin’ for ya bro, something about a photoshoot with the maid of honor?” The groan Bakugou lets out is enough of a confirmation.

“Fuckin’ pain in my fuckin’ ass bitch” he grumbles, pressing his lips against your temple again, promising to come back after the ‘Motherfuckin’ bitch shoot’ is done. You only reply by squeezing his arm, a silent reassurance that you’ll be waiting for him when he gets back.

It's so revolting, the way he swears up and down, having the filthiest mouth with his words, not even respecting the beautiful goddess that tries to calm his nasty self down, he should be more considerate of you and your feelings, God he loathes the way he treats you. The way he mistreats you. 

You deserve to be treated so much better than that, the way Denki would, he’d downright kiss the ground you walk on, remind you every day that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him, the best goddamn thing to ever grace this earth.

Okay, you’re staring. God, has she been staring too? Denki, people always say you never shut up, use it to your advantage for once in your life.

Denki extends his arm to you, curses under his breath, wipes his sweaty palm against his pant leg before extending it again. "Would you like to dance?" You raise your eyebrows. "Would you like to dance?"

"Well, dancing is what a charming gentleman like myself would do.” He beames at the chuckle you let out. “Besides, you're beautiful and I want to show you off.” He pauses. “You know, while Bakugou is busy with his best man duties and all."

You smile, your pretty lips letting out a little giggle at his posture as he starts wiggling his fingers persuasively, and shake your head. "You know what? Yeah, I would like to dance."

Arm-in-arm, you and Denki head into the dance floor and step onto the wooden ground. You felt him move easily with you, agile and confident with the music as he takes the lead. His hands slowly yet surely reach to your lower back, but you shrug it off.

"Ah, expect tango music after this," he says. Eyes gleaming as they shift over to the DJ that nods in acknowledgement to him. He frowns when he sees your averted face, shifting your eyes away from his, observing, searching for him, your fiance, the person he wishes he could be, someone he could never be.

Denki trips over his words in an effort to regain your attention, “A-anyway, uh, um. Hey! Did you know that uh, t-tango is banned in other places of the world?" you raise your eyebrows. 

“Is it?”

 “Yeah, wanna know why?” 

“Didn’t expect you to know honestly.” He smiles as you laugh lightly, but something tugs at his heartstrings, its because you think of him as nothing but stupid brainless dunce face, depsite him entering and graduating one of the best hero courses in all of Japan, alongside you of all people, despite his hero work, the people he saves, the villains he captures, fuck. 

You don’t miss the way his face falls after your remark, an almost sour expression passing through before he clears his throat and looks behind your shoulder at basically nothing. “S-so,” you start, “Why was it banned?”

The blond’s eyes flicker over to you and soften at the way you’re cocking your head and smiling at him, despite him getting upset with you. What is he doing? He’s experiencing something straight out of his fantasies, having you pressed so close to him, dancing with him and smiling at him. No one else. 

“Oh, okay okay, so. It was considered the dance of the low-lifes at the worst places of society when it first emerged, and so the church banned it, because they said it had the music of the “immoral” factions of society”

“Oh? Why’s that.”

“It was considered an oversexualized dance. Portraying the sin and seduction of the Devil. It represents the Devil's nostalgia, his unrequited aspirations, loneliness, rejection, and misery. The longing of someone who will never fit in, who has never had love nor passion.” He takes a deep breath.  

“It's like sex, except with clothes on.”

 In a failed attempt to seduce you, he stumbles and steps on your heels. Earning a weak yelp from you as you back up from him.

It's okay, it's okay, he can fix this. Oh God the music stopped. Okay he gets to dance tango with you now and press you even more against him and hold you even closer, okay. God, are his hands always this sweaty?

The silence that follows the stopping of the music makes him panic, you’re so close, he just needs to reach out and hold you against him again. Press your tender body against his, let him pretend you’re his, pretend that he’s lucky enough to take you home with him. Help you take off your dress, press kisses against the curves of your body, make love to you all night.

Put all of that is cut short when he feels a daunting presence behind him, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. Because the way your face lights up at that presence is enough to stop his blood from pumping, enough for him to see only red, for him to dig his nails into the palm of his hands until he feels it piercing his skin.

“Hey,” the taunting voice of Katsuki Bakugou reminds him how beneath him he really is. “Yer havin fun with my girl.” it wasn’t a question. Despite that, in a desperate attempt to feel your touch one more time before you’re swept away by your big strong hero, that he would never be able to match to.

With trembling fingers, Denki grasps your hand and brings your knuckles close to his lips, eyes boring into each other while he kisses them, and you only grin in appreciation at his manners, doing the most adorable courtesy he has ever seen in his life, almost forgetting the looming presence of his former classmate.

Bakugou moves around Denki to reach you, and Kaminari knows at this point all hope is lost for you to dance with him, or better yet, have any interaction with him again for the entirety of the night. Katsuki held your hand with surprising firmness, caramel scent wafting through as you feel how sweaty his hands really are. 

“Are you warm?” You mumble, lacing your fingers through his when his reaction is to pull his hands away to wipe them at his pants. 

“No.” It's firm and it's rough, yet it isn’t directed at you. It’s directed to the other blond that surprisingly still hasn’t backed down and is still standing straight, eyeing how you two act as a couple, how he wishes you would hold his hand, ask him if he was warm, embrace all his insecurities.

As your fiance leads you back to the center of the dance floor. Hand starting at your waist but quickly slipping to grab a handful of your ass, chuckling when you squeal and slap his chest. Something wicked gleams in his eyes when the first tune of the violin starts playing, drifting with the harmony of the accordion.

“You and I both know that my knowledge of tango is as much as my knowledge for knitting, that’s right, nonexistent.”

“You know my body, don’t you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Follow my lead, let your body do the talking.”

“You’re crazy.” yet you still laugh, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as he pulls you impossibly close to him, raveling in the feeling of your chest pressed to his. You’re rolling your eyes a little at the way his smirk stretches when he pinches your butt, but you instantly shiver when he places his warm calloused hand within the cutout of your dress on your lower back, skin to skin. And just like your body is made to be molded against his, you place your arm over his shoulder while the other is engulfed in his. 

He steps close, too close, scandalously close. Pressing his cheek against your temple and only then meeting the eyes of Denki, that's when his smile drops, every playful act with you is gone. His magma filled eyes staring into the soul of the electrical hero.

Mine MineMineMine

Neither were stupid, Katsuki knows what Denki is doing, and Denki is well aware of Katsuki’s ability to piece shit together.

Denki is left lonesomely standing by the DJ, watching the way you two dance, the way Bakugou steps forward in your space and you stepping back to accommodate him. He seethes in his stance as you two rock on your feet, the way Bakugou handles your body with firmness and strength, yet softly watching you when you giggle at the way he spins your body effortlessly. Kaminari sees the way you let yourself be led, the way you trust Bakugou to handle you, hold you, care for you, in ways he could only hope for you to see him.

You are perfectly synchronized, almost fluid like, an extension of each other, like you had done this a million times before, practised day and night to perfect it. Bakugou takes his time twirling you across the room, seductively slow. Thighs brushing against each other with every stupid turn.

His body whispering commands to yours, daring it to misbehave, you step and lean and sway, every movement perfect and precise, like an intricate choreography that you have never learned, but your bodies remembering them. He dances with you the way he has sex—with exquisite control, infinite patience, and aggressive moves.

Huh, that's what Denki must have meant.

At that moment, your eyes catch him standing outside the dance floor, and you almost don’t recognize the man alone, filled by ugly emotions they couldn’t help but spill and show on his expression. Sour and hateful and just plain cruel looking.

Katsuki’s mouth curves in a lazy smile at how your brows furrow, spinning you in a vigorous turn so he’s the one facing him instead. You aren’t dense, you feel the eyes on you, well aware who they belong to as they burn through your back. He lowers his head, forcing you to look back up at him, your lips grazing against his, too close.

“Yer puttin’ on a show for your boy?” 

“A show- no you ass, weren’t you the one that wanted to dance?” you try to lean away to scold him -yes, middance- but the blond lowers further, until you think he’s trying to get you to shut up by kissing you. Suddenly he’s dipping you low, his face stays only a few inches away from yours, your back arching beautifully.

A static sound dwells on you, followed by the buzzing of electricity. The lights flicker and you instinctively grab at Katsuki, tightening your hold against his bicep, your eyes searching his when he doesn’t lift you back up, only to find him not even looking at you.

His fingers are tingling, tips wiggling as they shoot little sparks at the sight in front of him, his golden eyes illuminating in the momentary darkness as they clash with the magma filled rubies, challenging him, taunting him, mocking him.

MineMineMine

And when Denki accidentally short circuits the entire DJ booth, the dance hall instantly quiets, a blanket of silence weighing them down and daring someone to break it. And yet, Bakugou has other plans, of course.

Sneakily, he slides his hand down from your back to your knee, firmly grabbing your leg as his eyes meet yours before lifting it to his hip. Fingers slipping under your dress and grazing your upper thighs, sending goosebumps racing across your skin, not having the courage to break eye contact until you hear the gasp of a few of the attendees. Only then does he close the gap between to press his lips against yours, the little audience you collected clapping and cheering you along.

The whistling and cheering is loud enough for you to miss the sound of Denki’s fist slam against the table and the sobs wrecking him as he drags his feet away from the scene. 

BakugousBakugousBakugous

Sero grunts as he struggles to push the hotel room door open with Denki leaning his full weight on him. It takes him a couple of tries to finally get the drunk man on the bed, slapping his hands away as Denki tries to grab at and kiss the man. 

“C’moooon, Hantaaaaa, s’not like you don’ wanna, look atchu, you’re takin’ off m’clothes but you don’ wanna kiss me?”

“You ass, I’m taking off your shoes because you stepped in your own vomit.” 

The man gags, chugging the shoes in the trash can and helping his friend ease off of his suit jacket. “Yer a good man Hanta, say, you wanna be m’best man?” Sero laughs, shaking his head as he tries to help him lay on his stomach, “y’know, when I marry y/n.” 

The silence that follows is deafening, Sero not having the heart to talk when he catches the sound of Denki sniffing and burying his head in his pillow.

“I- “

“Jus’ leave me alone, Sero.”

And he does, the only confirmation of his solitude is the echoing click of the door’s lock as Sero leaves Denki to brew in his own self loathing.

It takes Denki a few minutes to collect himself, the nausea forcing him to take off his shirt and pants, lying down on his back to feel the cool air on his chest. He doesn’t realize he has his eyes closed until he snaps them open when he hears his door click close.

There you are, radiating, mesmerizing, you’re practically glowing, standing there by his door, adorned by your… nightgown? 

God, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room.

“You sure you’re in the right room y/n?”

You don’t answer, you just simply, untie your robe. And Denki’s eyes practically bulge out when the silk robe slips right off of your shoulder and drops in a pile on the floor by your feet. He can’t look you in the eyes, he’s looking at every inch of exposed skin he can muster, committing every curve, every dip, every contour, every fucking thing to memory.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” that’s when he looks back up at your eyes -after shamelessly staring at your peaking nipples for a second too long - blinking twice at your words. He sits up with a struggle, “W-wait, what about Bakugou?”

“What about him?”

And honestly, that alone almost made him bust a nut.

You’re pushing at his chest until he lays back down, throwing your leg over his figure and straddling him. Instantly, he feels your warmth pressing against his strained length and his body shivers at the thumbing against it. 

“You’re so good to me Denki,” you breathe, fingers combing through his hair before you take a fistful of it and lightly tug, rolling your hips against his and relishing in the whines he lets out, slender fingers reaching for your thighs and grabbing handfuls, his eyes begging for you to do it again, and when you do, he throws his head back and moans.

“You treat me so well,” you pout, nails tracing his sweaty flushed chest, peppering kisses along it, moving up until you reach his ear, biting at it and giggling when he ruts his hips up against you. Feeling your slick dampen the front of his boxers as his leaky cock does the same. “So pretty for me” he whines again, eyes blown out and chest heaving at the feeling of being kissed by you, held by you, touched by you, hell, looked at by you.

“Fuck, again, ah- d-don’t stop, pleaseplease-”

“Use your words baby, wadda you want?” he thrashes against the bed when you grind your hips against his again, the tips of his fingers buzzing and twitching when you’re lowering yourself to press your chest against his face. 

“Fuck, wanna feel your pretty pussy, feel you squeeze my cock, please, just -ah, put it in.” it's all muffled from the spit collecting on tongue and the way he’s smothered by your tits but honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way.

His body refuses to move as you scoot lower, straddling his thigh and grinding your hips against it, wickedly smiling as he whines ‘nonono’ when you do, “m-my cock, my cock, please stop teasin’.” the tip of your finger traces the elastic of his boxers, giggling at the way his body jerks up and at the gasp he lets out when you snap it against his hip. Before gliding your finger against his strained cock, enjoying the way it twitches under your touch, feeling it harden against you.

You coo at him as you pull off his boxers, when you see that there is no initiation from him to move. The sight of his pretty cock with its fiery head welcoming you and you can’t help but grab at it. “Pretty boy all needy for me, hmm?” You give it a lick from the base to the tip, sucking on the head of his cock and feeling it twitch inside of your mouth, hollowing out your cheek and looking up to see the way his face flushes, his body illuminating with the crackling of the thunders around him, twitching his body before he breathes out a few times to calm himself down.

How is he so lucky? How is he blessed with having your lips wrapped around his cock, just looking at you is tightening a knot in his belly, and he can’t help but throw his head back and close his eyes in an effort to prolong his orgasm to feel even more of you.

He doesn't open his eyes until he feels a looming shadow on him, and that's when he catches sight of you again, the moon hitting your face, your glistening precum-covered lips smiling down at him.

“Want me to take care of you?” You tease, chuckling breathlessly as Denki feels your pussy on his cock, your slick covering it as you roll your hips and feel your pussy gush at the way his body shivers in ecstasy at your touch. “Yes! Please mommy ye-”

“Mommy?” Did he just say it out loud? “No, ah- fuck, no-no I didn’t say that I-” you don’t even let him talk, gyrating your hips again, covering his dick with your slick, without having your walls flutter around him just yet.

It takes a few teasing grinds of you against him to have him sobbing at this point, “m-mommy please just please! I wanna, ah” he thrashes when the tip of his leaky cock catches your clit, the lightnings he’s producing passing by his eyes and obscuring his blurry vision for a while, before he’s blessed with the sight of you beautifully arched on top of him. “In, in, wanna feel the pretty pussy, please please lemme feel the pretty pussy.” it's just meaningless babbling at this point, anything to get your walls tightening around his cock, all sensitive from being rubbed against you for god knows how long.

And when his head catches your cunt, he all but cries out at the way it clenches at the head, bucking his hips up to feel more of you. Wanting you to swallow him whole, take him all the way in. “Y’gonna just fuck into my pussy like that, hmm? Is that how you’re treatin’ mommy now?” “n-no! Ah, m’sorry pleaseplease, I just, you feel s’good, you’re s’tight aaah, wanna feel more, please I want more more more,” and he does. So, without a warning, you drop your hips and impale yourself on his cock, and for fuck’s sake all of what Denki saw what white for a few seconds, he could’ve sworn he heard a few angels singing, even.

“That what you want, hmm? Want her to take care of her pretty boy?” you pout mockingly, bouncing yourself on his lap as he tries to grab hold of your hips to guide you, but the way you’re jerking his body has his head dizzy and his sight swimming, the low buzzing of his quirk muffled by the wet slaps of your skin against his, your ass clapping against his thighs and he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that sound, and he just settles for letting you please yourself with his cock, because if you’re gonna use him as a fucking dildo, then he wouldn’t fucking have it any other way.

Weakly snapping his hips upwards with the drops of your hips, Denki’s leg shake and it takes a few more times for his cock to fully seath itself in your tight walls for him to let go, feeling your pussy squeeze his cock for all his worth as your pants turn into whines, suddenly they’re very afar, almost like you’re underwater. Yet he’s the one feeling like his lungs are constricted when he hears the name you’re calling, and it isn’t his. “Ka- ahh- suki…”

Only then does Denki realize that you aren’t in his room, your discarded rope isn’t thrown haphazardly on the floor by the door, your slick isn’t covering his thigh or coating his dick, and the worst of all, your pussy isn’t the one that has been squeezing his cock, oh no.

It was his hand, those slender fingers wrapping around his softening cock, smeared with his cum. He lifts his hand in horror, disgust and shame eating him up, especially when his ears perk up at your sound.

“Fuck, Katsu- yesyesyes, right there, yes!” Whatever nausea he felt subsiding is coming back tenfold, burning his throat as he slaps his hand over his mouth, anything to stop himself from puking on himself.

“Ha, that what you want? Getting dicked down after havin’ fun with that fuckin’ dunce face.” The wet sounds of Bakugou’s hips slapping yours is almost making his ears bleed. “Havin’ that prick touchin’ ya like that. Fuckin’ slut, all of that to rile me up so I can fuck that tight lil pussy, that what you want?”

Denki doesn’t know what’s the last nail on the coffin, the absolute filth being spewed to you, tainting your angelic ears, that aren’t meant to hear anything but praises and confessions of love and gratitude, the fact that you’re squealing and moaning for him to fuck you even harder, or the fact that he’s listening to every squealching sound, every creak the bed made, every slam of the headboard against your shared wall, every breath, every moan, every scream, everything.

That's when Denki flings himself off of the bed and empties his stomach, right on the floor next to his bed, tears stinging his eyes as he tries to trick himself that it's because of the way his throat is burning and not because of the way his heart is shattering, feeling it wrenched from his chest and thrown on the floor, stepped on and spat on and just beaten to the point of no return.

Sniffing and lifting his head up, Denki can’t help but see red, his whole body crackling with newfound vigor, his whole body is numb, like his quirk is taking the lead, putting his consciousness on the back burner. He chuckles, despite you moaning out Katsuki’s name when you find your release, despite him calling yours as he finds his, despite hearing your giggles and the kisses he’s pressing against god knows where on your body, despite the tears streaming down his face.

The last thing Denki remembers before he lets his quirk take complete control over him, is the humming of energy, the fleeting blinding brightness, the shattering of the light bulbs all around him, the loud deafening bangs, almost like music to his ears and finally, the sound of you screeching in horror. 

Hope you like it! Kithes kithes

[whimsicallyreading]

Part Four~

(Part Three)

Aelin loved Elide. She did. The tiny brunette was like a little sister to her.

But if she said Lorcan Salvaterre’s name one more time she was going to throttle her.

Aelin smiled through her annoyance, as Elide filled her in on her new boyfriend. They organized shelves, set up displays, cleaned couches, as she gushed on and on.

If it was anyone besides that walking, talking, ass, she would be thrilled for Elide. She didn’t go on dates often. After the car wreck when she’d lost her left leg, Elide became shy and timid with people she was unfamiliar with.

Aelin wanted to fill her in on what happened the night before. Tell her that exactly how her new boyfriend treated women when she wasn’t around, and the crowd he hung out with. She just- Aelin frowns and rubs the space between her eyebrows. She didn’t want to damper Elide’s happiness.

“He took me to this little restaurant on the Avery River last weekend. It was adorable,” Elide babbled as she rearranged the new releases. “He didn’t even blink when I told him I don’t drink and ordered a Shirley Temple.”

Aelin laughs. “Your ordered a Shirley Temple on a date?”

Elide blushes, “they look fancier than a soda.”

That was a lie. Elide just loved everything cherry flavored.

“Enough about me,” Aelin startled as the tiny girl turned on her. “Tell me how your night went!” Elide beamed. “You went to the rodeo with Aedion, right?”

She gasps as the realization strikes her. “Did you see Lorcan ride? I haven’t even seen him compete, yet! I’m so jealous.”

“Yeah, I saw him.” Aelin answers vaguely, hoping Elide would take the vague answer and carry on.

“He told me he came in second last night.” Elide frowns. “He was really unhappy about it, and I told him that second was great. I don’t think he believed me. Lorcan is such a perfectionist.”

Yeah. So perfect he does drugs with his crappy, friends in a dimly lit bar. Aelin shoves a book onto the shelf a little too aggressively.

“I wish he wasn’t so hard on himself. It’s such a competitive sport, though. His buddies ride as well, and I think that makes it worse. He wants to impress them.”

Aelin looks back, realizing she’d stacked over half the shelf by herself, and sees Elide sitting on the floor behind her. She had a far off look on her face, and her chin was rested on one knee while her prosthetic leg was stretched in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, she tries to swallow back the annoyance creeping up on her. “Elide.”

“It’s just, a lot of peer pressure you know?” Elide continues talking as if she hasn’t heard her. “Despite all of that and the drama, he still makes time for me. It’s honestly really sweet and-“

“Elide,” Aelin tries to catch her attention gently.

“I still haven’t met his friends yet. I’m not sure if it’s just too soon for that, but his best friend Rowan is coming over tomorrow and-“

“Elide,” Aelin bites our sharply, cutting the girl off mid sentence. “I’m glad to hear you are happy, and that your boyfriend gives a shit but can you please help me do the shelving like I pay you to do?”

Guilt. Instantaneous guilt as the younger girl wilts like a flower under a gale-force wind. “Sorry, Lin.” Elide whispers and scurries away, her cheeks reddening.

Shit. Aelin taps her head against the shelf in front of her. She felt like a piece of shit.

Aelin has been dealing with her issues for years, going to therapist after therapist, but she was still prone to bouts of anger and depression. She had it mostly under control, but sometimes it slipped from her. Being tired and skipping lunch hadn’t helped.

As Yrene always told her- “The first step in better mental health is taking care of your body” Something Aelin had never been good about.

Elide hadn’t deserved her ire, she would have to figure out a way to make it up to her. Aelin sighs in resignation, already knowing what she’d have to do.

Aelin finishes the shelves first, figuring Elide would need a minute to compose herself. Her phone dings with the reply to her text message.

Lysandra- Tonight at 6:00

“Elide?” she searches around the shop for her and finds her sitting behind the computer at the front desk.

“Yeah?” Elide replies, her voice is a little gravely and she refuses to meet Aelin’s eyes.

Aelin slinks behind the desk and wraps an arm around Elide’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I wasn’t kind.” She wouldn’t lie, she felt a bit like a toddler having to apologize for her short temper. A little embarrassment was better than an unhappy friend.

“It’s fine, Lin. I know I’m a little much to handle,” Elide still doesn’t look at her.

“No, it’s not okay, but I’m going to make it up to you,” Aelin smiles even if inside she’s cringing.

“Yeah?” Elide finally looks her in the eye, curiosity sparkling there.

“I texted Lys about the party she’s having tonight,” Aelin starts and Elide’s grow wide. “Would you want to go with me?”

“To a party? You hate parties,” she questions but Elide is already thrumming with excitement.

Aelin grabs Elide’s hand and squeezes. She doesn’t hate parties. Contrary, Aelin loves night out a little too much. That was her downfall. Now she was wary of them, but it didn’t mean she hated them.

“Really? You will go?” Elide smiles and stands up. “I’m so excited. Wow. Okay. I’ll go do with you.”

“Great, we can walk over together at five-thirty?” They lived the in the same apartment complex, it was easy for them to meet up and go places after work.

Elide is grinning ear to ear now as she hustles to finish up her chores for the day. “Sounds great. I’m so excited!”

Aelin is feeling a little upbeat herself. Even if parties weren’t really her scene anymore, attending would be fun. Elide being there would keep her from getting into any trouble, so what’s the harm?

She should know that’s the question that always goes before the fall.

~~~

Aeljn was feeling good.

She pulled on her slinky, green-velvet dress, and braided her hair into a crown like Aunt Marion used to do for her. Dressing up felt like armor to Aelin and she was a warrior who would turn heads tonight.

Elide has also done a great job dressing up. Billowing black pants and a silver singlet. She didn’t enjoy dressing up as much as Aelin, being the center of attention made her anxious, but she didn’t give herself enough credit. Elide was beautiful and Aelin would make sure her friend new that this evening.

Lysandra lived in a loft in downtown Rifthold. She was old money and Aelin was a frequent of her outrageous parties in highschool. Some of her most iconic teenage memories happened in Lysandra’s family home.

Not her proudest, but memorable for sure.

It was already in full swing when they arrived. Music played over Bluetooth speakers, various concoctions were passed around in red cups and people mingles and moved against one another in every open space.

Elide looked a little overwhelmed, but Aelin smiled at her reassuringly.

“Lin!” Lysandra appears from the crowd like a leopard from a jungle. She filings her arms around Aelin’s neck and kisses her cheek. “I’m so glad you are here!”

“It’s been too long since I’ve been to one of your get together,” Aelin wrapped her arms tightly around Lysandra.

“This is my friend Elide,” she gestures to the girl standing stiffly behind her. “Elide this is one of my oldest friends Lysandra. Possibly my soon to be sister-in-law.”

Aelin throws and wink at Lys who immediately retaliates with a pinch to her arm. “I love you and Aedion but I’m too young for that,” she scolds.

“Sure you are,” Aelin teases sliding back to Elide’s side and wrapping a comforting arm around her waist. “Those two are stupid in love don’t let her fool you,” she wiggles her fingers and Elide laughs.

“Stay right here, I’ll go get us some drinks.” Lysandra smiles and disappears into the crowd.

Almost as soon as she’s gone, there’s a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, absolute dread fills her gut. “I swear you all are stalking me,” Aelin moans.

Rowan Whitethorn is standing behind them, drink in hand and a scowl on his face. “What do you mean? This is the first time I’ve seen you since you ran out on me.” There’s an edge in his voice and Aelin knows he’s there for trouble. “I just thought I’d say hello and ask what the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Aelin is indignant. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Um,” Elide stammers. “Should I give you two space?”

“I really liked you, and you stormed out on me.” Rowan growls lowly. “I don’t know what I did wrong? You humiliated me in front of my friends.”

Aelin throws her head back and laughs. A sense of satisfaction brews in her chest when she sees the forest fire beginning in his eyes. “I embarrassed you? Your friends treated me like shit.” She hisses between her teeth.

Rowan’s frown deepens into a near snarl, “I’m not responsible for what those idiots say.”

“You-“ she jabs a finger into his chest. “Stood bye and let them say it, that makes you implicit. If you respected me in the slightest my comfort and dignity would have mattered to you.”

Aelin makes to jab him again but his hand catches her wrist and she can’t control the flinch.

His eyes widen, but a body appears in between them. Elide Lochan stands like a solider in front of the man who is twice her size. “You don’t touch her.”

Rowan backed off a step, his voice raising. “She was prodding me-“ he stops himself and takes a breath, a crease forming in his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’ll back off.”

“What’s going on over here?” Lysandra’s voice cuts through the noise of the party. She doesn’t look happy.

“He put his hands on her,” Elide hisses and Rowan’s eyes go from anger to shock.

He holds up his hands and looks to Lysandra. “I didn’t. I swear.”

Lysandra stands next to Elide forming a wall between him and Aelin. As one of the few people who knew about Aelin’s drama of the last couple of years, the look of this situation boiled her blood.

“Lys, he didn’t-“ Aelin tries to douse the scene they were about to create.

Lysandra gives her a look that makes Aelin quiet. “I love you Lin, but I don’t trust your excuses.”

That hurt. Her heart feels like it was wrung in her chest. Aelin crosses her arms in front of her, suddenly feeling withdrawn from the situation.

Elide hasn’t broken her stare from Rowan. “You should probably leave.”

“What?” He flounders looking equal parts shocked and horrified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare her. We know each other.”

“I agree,” Lysandra tilts her chin to the door. “You aren’t welcome here any longer.”

Rowan looks at her for help, and she feels bad for him. Aelin knows she touched him first, but Lysandra’s comment was like a cold knife in her side and she was still bleeding. She didn’t know what to do or say.

“Rowan? What’s going on?” Lorcan appears behind Rowan, placing a hand on his shoulder. Aelin knows the moment he sees Elide standing in front of her, because his face deflated.

“You know him?” Elide’s voice is cold.

Lorcan, a beast of a male, cowers in front of little Elide. His mouth gapes like a fish. He can’t deny her question, but affirming it seemed worse. “Ellie,” her name comes out strangled.

“These are your friends, Lorcan? The people you seem to be keeping me from?” Elide darkens further as she looks at Rowan. “I guess I understand why.”

“Both of you can leave, then.” Lysandra smiles maliciously.

“I’m sorry, Aelin.” Rowan rubs both of his hands across his face then through his hair. “Damn it, I didn’t mean for this to go like it did. I wanted to apologize.” He says mostly to himself.

“Elide. He’s my friend. I don’t know what’s going on-“ Lorcan scrambles to cover his ass, but Elide isn’t having it.

“This is Lysandra’s house.” Elide says so calmly it would have been kinder if she yelled. “She asked you to leave.”

Lorcan looks at her, absolutely fuming and Aelin knows he’s beyond pissed. “I don’t know what this lying bitch-“

A slap broke like thunder between them.

Lorcan holds his cheek as Aelin gapes at Elide in shock. There are no tears to be seen in the younger girls expression. Her shoulders are trembling, not with fear but anger.

“Let’s go.” Rowan chokes out. He grabs Lorcan’s shoulder and pulls him away from the trio of women.

Lysandra watches them like a predator until they clear her front door. Her tense shoulders only relax when they leave. She releases a breath and looks at Elide.

“You are hella cool, Ellie. You deserve something better than that piss-poor beer I brought.” She nods to the solo cups that had been abandoned on the table. “I’ve got better shit in my room. Let’s go.”

Elide looks follows Lysandra with an elated look on her face. Aelin smiles dimly, she could see them becoming fast friends. Elide would be a good addition to the group.

They pushed through the crowd, and up the stairs. Aelin wasn’t in the partying mood anymore, which was disappointing. She’d been looking forward to it, and so had Elide.

Shaking her head, Aelin decides she will take a small reprieve in Lysandra’s room then suggest they go back downstairs. Elide was only comfortable coming to a party because she was going to be with her. Now not only was her night ruined, but she was on the outs with Lorcan because of her.

The very least she could do was make sure the night ended on a good note for Elide. Lysandra would be totally willing to help Aelin get her to let loose.

When they reach the bedroom Lysandra stops the outside the door. “You can go in, Ellie. I need to talk to Aelin for just a second.”

Elide nods happily and shuffles inside.

“Lys,” Aelin starts before Lysandra can. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“You promised me before,” her voice is hard but not unloving. “Who was that Aelin?”

She doesn’t miss the use of her full name. “Just some guy I went out for drinks with one time. I honestly don’t even know him.” Aelin assures.

“Has he been bothering you? If he is I will castrate him and feed his own-“ Aelin covers her ears.

“No, no. We just bumped into each other, it was a misunderstanding,” Aelin swears. “Honestly, you didn’t need to kick him out.”

“Yes,” Lysandra hisses. “I did. You aren’t going through that again, Aelin. Not over my dead body.”

“I appreciate that you love me so much,” Aelin whispers, not wanting Elide to pick up on their conversation. “But I can take care of myself. I’m not broken, Lys. Just hurt.”

Lysandra groans sadly, her dark lashes fan against her cheeks as if she’s fighting tears back. Suddenly Lys is hugging her again, and Aelin sinks into her embrace like always.

“I know you aren’t broken. I’m sorry that I’m so fussy.” Aelin let’s her tuck itself into Lys shoulder, aware that she was a safe person to be open with.

After a moment they pull apart. “Please. Just be careful,” Lysandra pleads.

“Of course,” Aelin promises. “Thank you for always having my back.”

“Never again,” Lysandra reiterates, reaching out to grab her hand.

“Never again.” Aeljn squeezes it.

“Lysandra! Your cat is so cute!” Elide coos from behind the door. The tension is broken and the two of them look at the other and laugh.

“Let’s go.” Aelin says, and Lysandra holds the door for the both of them.

Never again would Aelin submit to a cruel man’s will.

Not even for a man like Rowan Whitethorn.

Part Two of the birthday mass update! Thank you guys so much for reading 💚

(Tag list- let me know if you would like to be added or removed? :D)

@charincharge

@westofmoon

@jorjy-jo

@classyclodranchparty

@morganofthewildfire

@ashleymariegriffin

@wordsxstars

@sjmships

@rolltide7

@surielandiareendgame

@jlinez

@rowaelinismyotp

@mariamuses

@swankii-art-teacher

@highladyof-erilea

@untoldstuff

@superspiritfestival

@tillyrubes10

@ghostlyrose2

@live-the-fangirl-life

[sugar-petals]

Hey Caro ☺️ I just took your super m quiz - thanks for making such a fun quiz, I feel like it helped me get into super m! I know nothing about them yet but I thought it fit soo well that I got Kai bc I’m a full time dancer - now you have me super curious about him 👀👀

KAI :: INTRODUCTION MASTERPOST (dance focus)

so you wanna know about the god of k-pop choreo? oh yeah, i’ll talk to you about fucking kai! if you dance, this guy is the #1 must-know. once you see him move, there’s no going back. i don’t exaggerate: kai is the gold standard. brace yourselves, i’ll show you why.

kim kai aka kim jongin (27) is a solo artist and super m’s plus exo’s main dancer — est 2019 and 2012 respectively — heading either group with a passionate, hyper-physical style that roots in his early practice of of jazz dance and ballet. the influence definitely shows. 

learning choreography, he’s become the gorgeous fusion of emotional grace and explosive power that unites both tension and extreme accuracy. while at the same time: never sacrificing his interpretation. and HOW MUCH HE BLEEDS FOR HIS CRAFT. he enjoys it so much. 

and he’s communicating it 100%, jongin’s dance is so interactive and raw, luring. i swear to god, put the seatbelts on for this one. it’s never just him, it’s you as well. you’ve never seen this before. he’s like “yes, i meant you, i’m looking at you”:

he’s even gonna modify the choreography to point right at you to underline that very thought. he’s so good, he can learn it, ace it, epitomize it, and do his own thing anyway. even the person in the last row will get whatever point kai wants to make. this is dance that belongs on the biggest stages.

even when he films without a crowd, it’s like you’re literally standing opposite to him. he focuses on two people: his moves, and the viewer. he has it look like you made him smile and self-aware, or you made him determined. INCREDIBLE. he shows his charisma, BUT he also shows your own (!) impact on him. it’s a duet. he wants you to join him on the dancefloor. this is from exo’s call me baby mv where kai does his famous come-hither:

he flirts and he encourages. he values the audience and wants them to be confident as well. i think it’s the reason why he’s so outstanding and addictive, kai thinks beyond himself. it’s a tango he involves you in with his eyes and how he opens his body, interprets a lyric.

it’s not about imposing himself going one way. instead: he plays the back and forth ALL. THE. TIME. in any context. whether it be frivolous, or fun, or gloomy, or sweet. even with a simple little smiley wink it’s happening. and he acts like you had a reaction to it. there’s literally just a camera.

this guy’s physique, strength, elegance, feeling for the beat, character portrayal (!), and control is unbelievable. he’s destroyed it in every fancam out there. he can’t switch it off even if he tried. your eyes would go toward him in the largest group formation still. put him in the center, that’s his spot, he showcases it.

because he doesn’t just show learned moves, he makes it radiate something dynamic and animalistic (he embodies superm’s ‘tiger inside’ all the way). 

jongin’s dance says: i love this, you love this, let’s do this, the feeling is right. he makes bodies and unrestrained touch the opposite of wrong, he pronounces it a source of having fun and being instinctual. and he never breaks the tie with you throughout, and uses his shoulders and lips to put the oomph into it. 

he uses innuendo and a ‘we both know’ sentiment perfectly as an invitation rather than just going through his routine. that’s how he can make each move fascinating. you can tell kai knows exactly how to make everyone scream their lungs out. i bet somebody held their breath just reading this post already.

exo’s most famous choreo is ‘monster’ (kai focus linked) with good reason: jongin can turn himself into nothing short of a roaring beast. it’s one sharp, complex move after the other. kai can bend any gravitational law he wants to show any feeling and pose he wants. a glimpse:

now, how to spot him in general if you’re new to him? here are some pointers. kai’s execution is clean, fast, and powerful. those are two decades (!) of experience showing. kai is an all or nothing dancer, he plays no games. he treats every group and solo stage like his best and last. his work ethic is beyond words. yeah, he’s a capricorn. his style is direct as can be, working every axis.

as you can see, jongin is hard to overlook anyway: he’s a 182cm giant made of steel. he strives to acutely visualize impact in his style and it is always successful. in fact, it’s his signature. it’s like he creates invisible objects and pushes through them. boom, he just burst another bubble.

when the song gets to his part, i guarantee you won’t miss him and all the boldness and expression he brings to enrich the performance. hell... he carries it. jongin can handle the center, i’m telling you. (look how fast he rotates here)

talking features — this is what to look for when he dances in a group setting: you can recognize kai’s face by how wide, bluntly structured and sensual it is. jongin is a sight. he has such an aura, serious, sultry, and smiling alike.

with a very recognizable silhouette (like... holy hell!):

he’s very cute as well ♡ the fandom and kai himself have an adorable analogy going on. jongin calls himself a teddy/nini bear and we joined in on it. (i made a thread about it here, it talks more about his offstage life) — hence kai’s fans are called eri-gom, eris as in exo’s fanbase and gom meaning bear. 

and i mean. look at him. what an attractive guy. he’s that handsome. strong brows, teddy eyes, square jaw, swept hair, glorious lips, tan skin. 

now yes, something important concerning his appearance and a serious topic: i don’t want to list you the endless instances of colorism that kai has to endure but it has to be mentioned. jongin has been called every name in the book and people agonize him over his skin incessantly. it goes on and on and on. every day a new terrible comment about him emerges because some pitiful person thought it was funny and would elevate them. 

he’s had to deflect, ignore, reframe, defend, remotivate, assert, harden, prove, denounce, and push himself, protect his confidence, decline skin bleaching constantly, laugh along, dance and practice thrice as hard to get the respect, and still see his dignity torn to pieces all day. i’ll just give it to you straight, that’s all fucked up. kai’s skin is perfect, he’s amazing and wonderful. 

in his own words:

— exactly right. say it even louder.

having him at the bottom of every joke is weird and messed up. this man is an utter beauty and nothing has to be fixed. it is up to him to define himself rather than get called ugly for his skin’s appearance by default, and get whitewashed at every opportunity. it’s been going on for 27 years, he scrunitizes himself all the time and doesn’t look at himself fondly because he hears these beatdowns daily.

it’s heartbreaking that this happens literally with no end in sight (’kai is just a stripper!’... ‘he has bad vibes’... ‘darkest guy jongin!’). for his skin, and how he decides to show it, too. jesus christ his skin looks fantastic, end of debate. they just can’t handle him, kai couldn’t be any more immaculate.

♡

jongin has vigorously protected fans from discrimination, bullies, and shaming himself whenever it came up. in a very straightforward and deadpan manner because he knows exactly how it damages you. (”J” in the subtitles = jongin, he’s wearing the plain white top at the very back)

we need to protect and praise him that way right back. it’s important.

so, needless to say. all in for jongin getting the center stage he deserves. because he has the wow factor in every regard. kai usually opens an MV because there’s no better way to get people’s attention with that level of presence. with kai, you can’t go wrong. if you get the center in a an all star group like superm, you are the king.

being part of that presence, kai’s stage alter ego has reached levels of infamity you can’t even imagine. it’s great to see him being sovereign without apology.

and it doesn’t stop there. he shows time and again that acting, props, and commanding the audience has to be mastered to be an exceptional dancer. kai owns his sex appeal. sometimes, he even dances a portion of choreo with his eyes closed because he’s feeling it so much.

he is a pro in using his surroundings as well, superm’s stages are a glorious opportunity for kai to show how he comfortably ‘lives in’ the 3D space around him.

which makes the viewer do the same: watching kai makes you feel amazing, energized, but also serene and enjoying the moment. 

there’s always balance. it’s the magic of it. e.g. he comes along with so much impetus and decisiveness but eventually, he halts to offer himself. here i am — take me. i’m yours. closed arms, open arms. walking, kneeling. looking down, looking up.

kai goes every extra mile there ever was and makes each eye contact count. involving the audience, one grin at a time. it works. it’s about establishing contact. he connects to the onlooker with so much nuance. 

kai’s smirk is notorious and you can see why it’s so raw and real: he makes it linger. it’s such a duality since his dancing says i’ll come over, while his message is come and get me, i know what’s on your mind.

with a hilarious twist – kai expertly uses humor. you don’t get that in many dancer repertoires. i love it. all those quick expression changes. his smile! 😊 what a man.

so — what makes him so good and known: yes, his style doesn’t deny that dancing and eroticism are one in his business. that takes courage. kai has it. iconic performances have been his reward. point dance/killing part: exo’s love shot choreo. 

that suit has swept the nation. what’s more: kai shows you it’s more than just good hip movement that a good dancer needs. he does everything at once, he puts the pleasure on his face, all his limbs are following the template he chooses.

the thing is. kai couldn’t be any shyer, but when the music starts he becomes a oscar-winning madman. he emotes constantly (!) and stays in character. this is gold.

jongin always plays it up. he knows how to use that face and does a lot of power posing. this is how visceral looks like. he’s interpreted exo’s aggressive concepts to a T.

and he has so. much. fun. it propels him. on every beat.

past every hurt, heartbreak and injury, man. if you know about his genre you knew this was coming, kai does all of that with 4 herniated discs. since debut days, never recovered. every gif in this thread, he dances with a battered spine. wheelchairs, stage collapses, relapse-recovery-schedule tales, the dilemma of injuries being inevitable, limping, kai falling into depression during breaks, constant pain killers, countless tears on stage, we’ve seen it all, the extreme end of it. 

kai works out like hell to literally keep his body from falling apart. but it doesn’t help the nerves in his back that are impacted. doing choreo you can sometimes literally see the pain kicking in and he pulls himself through with force for the last minute. once you know how strained his back is, you can see it.

at the end his expression goes fuck now it’s coming when the adrenaline fades. he takes every second-pause he gets to rest but still finishes each move. even when he holds back, he keeps it together and executes each turn. sometimes, he has to restrict himself and soften his movements to protect his health (especially in hard choreographies such as lucky one which is universally disliked by exo — still jongin makes the very best of it smiling bright and dancing so hard his sleeves come off).

he frequently states he ‘dances in any case unless his legs are affected by something’. all torso injuries are fair game, this guy is hardcore. and people claim he’s just pretending. chen (a fellow exo member) says not a single part of jongin’s body is intact. he has paid every price to get this far to follow his love. he’ll step on stage with crutches. he works SO HARD.

that being said: exo being called the official nation’s group, i say kai is the nation’s dancer. period. he has had his great moment at the korean olympics flawlessly dancing in a hanbok with traditional instruments and fulfilling his dream. 

i love the tension and drama he can bring. he can also thrill with slow, vulnerable movements alike.

kai’s is called a legend, he’s all that and even more. the facial expressions alone are feared by any kai stan because they hit home. 

this guy is a sex icon and goes off like a gun, messing around was never kai’s incentive. 

while at the same time being incredibly nuanced and so, so descriptive with his movements.

point dance: baby don’t cry. yep, kai has danced in water. must-watch.

this man loves what he is doing. he said he wouldn’t regret to die on stage because dancing is his destiny. boy, it shows. this guy has found his purpose. he can tell any story he wants. he’s a complete artist.

he’s perfectly portraying his incentive and he couldn’t look any more like a god on earth.

long story short, kai is dance and motivation goals. if you dance professionally, you can easily look toward him for the right words.

if you want to further your study and knowledge: he released a self-titled solo album recently. highly recommended. he worked forever on it, and he’s really dishing it on there. you get to hear his soft voice plus sizzling footwork. and he isn’t even getting started yet. you’ll hear from kai, i promise. he constantly achieves new levels of artistic perfection.

a last remark. jongin is amazing for a myriad of reasons that go beyond what i show you here given the post focuses on his work on stage. but the point stands, while other people have tried to break him, he broke through every barricade instead and stood up for himself. we can be extremely happy to have him and witnessing his unreal dance is an exceptional pleasure. here’s to jongin continuing his passion and confidence, healing, and getting the sweeping respect and acknowledgement that is his.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw touching without asking and sa mention

I guess I'm looking for advice and to vent? I'm very confused and bothered by this going on.

I have been going through this thing that has become common within the last few months. My fiance will just grab me and touch me wherever he wants, whenever he wants, when I am in the middle of doing something or in bed.

He will walk up to me in the kitchen and pull my shirt up to grab my breasts, or sometimes he will pull my pants down and touch me and grab me in my privates or try to put his fingers in me. I will literally be like washing dishes or making him food or laying in bed on my phone and he does this without even saying anything.

He always says hes playing and he's not doing anything wrong to me but he knows I don't like it and he sees the expressions on my face when he randomly grabs or exposes me out in the open. He always tells me I'm just being too sensitive and I'm making a scene and blowing it out of proportion. Honestly I just feel violated by it.

I don't know if I really am just being overdramatic and overblowing this, or if I actually have a reason to feel so upset by this? I just feel like I can't control when he touches my body and I guess that is what bothers me the most?

I have been assaulted multiple times by different people in the past year and I experienced childhood abuse in the past.

I guess what I'm asking is am I being overdramatic about this or is this actually abuse towards me that I need to acknowledge?

Thanks so much for responding and for your time

You don't need a reason to feel so upset by this. You are upset by this, and that should be enough for your partner to stop doing this. Violating boundaries and continuing to do something that you know your partner doesn't like is a huge red flag. He sounds like a terrible partner. In healthy relationships, people do not "play" in ways they know upsets the other person.

You need to acknowledge your partner's bad behaviour. It is serious, and being upset about it is valid. It's up to you how you want to handle the situation. Sometimes people are immature or didn't see any healthy relationship role models so they don't know how to behave properly or how to treat their partners with dignity and respect. If you think that might be the case, and you are interested in trying to make the relationship work, you may want to try to help him understand why what he's doing is so wrong. You could try to communicate more strongly how upsetting you find this, by very firmly and clearly tell him no, and telling him "This is not okay. It is not playing if we are not both having fun. This is a boundary, and you need to stop." You may also want to reconsider whether this relationship is worth staying in. Do you really want to marry someone whose reaction to your discomfort isn't empathy and compassion, but to prioritize his own fun over your wellbeing?

You deserve to feel safe and secure in your relationship. You deserve to be with someone who doesn't retraumatize you. You deserve to not feel violated by your partner's behaviour. You deserve someone who cares enough about your happiness that he doesn't treat you this way. And you are valid whether you choose to try to look for those things you deserve from your current fiance or with someone else.

- Mod Allison

[hihatsofftoyou]

“The problem is that "coverage" in true crime cases in many cases isn't a position of privilege, it's dehumanizing and a facet of misogyny.

The reason why "Missing White Women" (or "Missing/Murdered White Girls") hold such a deep fascination culturally is that it reinforces the sexist view that society already has on women. This has nothing to do with the women themselves and it fundamentally doesn't help them. There's just a pornographic obsession with the "ideal woman" (who is pretty, young, white and not poor) and her being violated.

This doesn't help the women or girls in question whatsoever. From Maddie McCain to JonBenet Ramsey to Nicole Brown Simpson, being the center of a whole media sensation - with round the clock coverage in its heyday and books movies and TV shows - doesn't do jackshit. Other people make money off it, but you're still dead. Criminal justice (thankfully) doesn't work on media assumptions.

So what you get is having online discussion boards dedicated to discussing your sex life or your mental health or people who decide - without any actionable evidence - that they just know your family members killed you and harass them and you have bogus scammers running around claiming they got visions about what happened to you. But none of that matters to you because you're dead.

There's just no point in talking about Missing White Woman Syndrome without acknowledging that it's a deeply sexist phenomenon that gives zero shit about the woman supposedly at the center of it.

I'm copying here from another comment I made in the other threat but sexism never worked like "women are bad and therefore it's okay to do harm against them", it was always "women are so inherently fragile/irresponsible/irrational/etc that harm coming to them is a natural occurrence that they can only ward off by obeying the strong/responsible/rational/whatever men." That's why select forms of harm against women become this mythologized spectacle in a sexist society (it also has a racist history - look at how often supposed violence against white women was used as an excuse to murder men of color. This wasn't because the white male dominated society suddenly decided that women didn't deserve sexual assault - they all kept hurting the women in their vicinity, it was because the transgression was committed against "their women" when a basic tenet of sexism is that it's men's right to control "their women" and that another man infringing on that is an insult against men).

In the patriarchy you only get to be a Whore or a Madonna. You get to be The Perfect Victim or the Bitch Who Had It Coming. You get to have every aspect of your life discussed by obsessive strangers who will leak your autopsy report and make podcasts analysing your body language in a brief out of context clip they've seen of you (drawing conclusions about your whole life and mental health). Or you get to be ignored completely.

This obviously needs to be divorced from wanting actual police work done (which should happen and it's good to advocate for that), but MWWS fundamentally isn't about that. MWWS doesn't wait for the boring details of actual police work, it wants ALL THE TEA. RIGHT NOW. It wants a pretty woman we can sexually obsess over or form a parasocial relationship with or harass other people who we consider the villains over and who, most importantly of all, be stand-in for the tragic fate that Woman naturally has in the patriarchy, which is to be violated. Cautionary tale for all the girls out there.

But don't confuse that with actually treating the woman in question with dignity and respect.

Also it's not that easy to identify a person just from their voice (and that isn't unusual, it happened with the Delphi murders too).”

[holylulusworld]

Beta is not a 4-letter word

Request: Inspired by unbeta’d, how about reader is one of the fellow Hunter, she’s beta so no one in hunting community wants to work with her. She’s forced to work with Sam & Dean, who also treat her different, like really insulting, taunting her, making fun of her, teasing. One day a witch curses Dean making him a beta permanently. He blames reader for that but eventually realizes his mistake. They make up then. Super angsty tho 

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Beta!Reader, Alpha!Sam, Beta!Dean x Beta!Reader

Warnings: angst, Sam and Dean being douches, sad reader, mentions of sex, ABO

Always the same game. You find a case that needs more than one hunter, but no one offers his or her help.

Your last resort was Garth, the kind Alpha was the only one who ever helped you with cases, well till he got bitten by a werewolf. Now he has got a family and he suggested two of his friends shall help you.

You hate it. Hate the way the smaller Alpha looks at you as if you are a fly on his steak or a weak little kid telling him you want take out a nest of vamps. You can see it in his eyes, he doesn’t like you and your presentation a bit.

Good thing you insisted on meeting up with them on neutral ground or they would have started to taunt you shamelessly. In public, they need to get their shit together.

At least you hope so…

“A beta, Sammy. Why did we agree to help a weak little girl?” Dean, the elder brother groans, not caring you sit right next to him. He acts as if you are not around, shakes his head at the information you handed them as if your research bores him.

Used to rough treatment, harsh words, and insults you swallow your pride. It is not as if you could take both Winchesters, the legends among the hunter, down but so far – you did not get yourself killed.

“Garth asked us, Dean. According to our werewolf ‘slash’ hunter friend she is good at hunting witches. Now let us talk about the case.” Chortling Dean glances at you, not giving you a chance to say anything he gets up to circle you like prey.

You feel like an insect under a microscope as the Alpha seems to drink your appearance in. 

“Coming from our werewolf hunter?” Dean huffs as you try to push the tears away. You are used to hunters being rough around you, but Dean wants to push your boundaries. 

“Weak and meek, Sammy. A Beta should not hunt.”

“So far I did it without an Alpha’s help, but this witch is dangerous, and I assume she does not work alone. Many people died or disappeared.”

Your body goes stiff when Dean nudges your side and you can’t do anything else than shove his hand away.

“Weak and soft. I don’t think she could even punch my nose, Sammy.” Dean snickers as Sam give him a dirty grin. “We shouldn’t let kids hunt.”

“I asked Garth for help as I am not suicidal and want to the killings as fast as possible.” Wiping your nose with the sleeve of your blouse you try to prepare yourself for the next blow.

“Dean is right, Y/N. You seem to be a nice girl but let’s face the truth. You will not withstand a blow coming from a witch or werewolf.” 

Sam’s words hurt you even more. Garth said the younger brother is more sensitive but here he is, giving you the feeling, you are worthless.

“I never said I am as strong as an Alpha, but I can stand my ground. I took out a whole nest of vamps. I know you believe I am not a good hunter, but I found the witch and want to take her down. I asked for help, not for another beta-bashing.” Getting up you try to look taller but all you get is a chuckle from Sam and a stupid comment from Dean.

“Even if you climb on a ladder you will always be a tiny and pitiful girl. Let’s face it, you’ll get me, and Sammy killed.” While you try not to cry you look around the crowded restaurant.

You don’t want to lose your composure in the middle of a restaurant, where families try to have a good time. 

The hope that the Winchesters would treat you equal, or at least would not make fun of you got ripped into pieces within not even half an hour.

“I think it’s for the best if you let us take over the case. Go to your motel room, take a few days off and maybe you should turn toward research.” There is a smirk on Sam’s lips as he shoves your notes toward you.

“Whoa…the infamous Winchesters are nothing but self-centered and instinct-driven Alphas. Shame I believed you are better than all the other knot-heads. That was the last time I asked for help.” Tossing money onto the table you look straight into Dean’s face.

“What little girl? Do you want me to soothe you? Do you need a tissue?” Dean mocks you, tries to push you even further but you will not give him any kind of satisfaction.

“You know, Beta is not a 4-letter word. I am not as strong as you but unlike you and your brother, I can control my needs. I am not an instinct-driven animal during ruts, heats, or crap. I always let my brain decide, not my reproductive organ.” Sneering you grab your notes before you look at Dean one last time.

“Only as you do not have heats does not mean your brain works better than mine or Sammy’s. Beta stands for weakness.” Nodding you take a deep breath.

“Right. I love your and the other Alphas prejudices. But you know what? I can fall in love without my instinct telling me I have to bite someone’s neck.” Before you look at Dean, hoping he would let your words sink in.

“What?” Dean jumps up to tower over you, but you act as if his size would not intimidate you. “Anything to add to your stupid speech?”

“Be careful. That witch likes to fuck with your mind and even more important…” Stepping closer you give him a cold smile. “She seems to like to kill assholes. In your case, you run around with a target pinned to your back.”

When you walk out of the restaurant you swallow hard. You may have lost your case, but at least you kept your dignity and did not beg them to let you participate on the hunt.

While you wipe a few tears away you get your phone out to dial Garth’s number. 

“I wanted to say thank you for sending me the biggest assholes on earth for help. That was the reason I asked you for help. All other Alphas…”

Garth can hear the tiny sobs leave your lips and his stomach drops. He believed Sam and Dean would treat you with respect, not act like the other Alphas hurting you.

“I am sorry, Garth. It’s just…” Sniffling you wipe the tears away. 

“I thought the Winchesters would be different. I will never annoy you again. From now on, I’ll handle my cases alone. It doesn’t matter in the end if I die…”

While you sulk in self-pity, hating you ever called Garth, the Winchesters play the great heroes once again – at least you assume they do so, as you are not invited to your party.

Same game – every time. How could you believe they would be any different? They are Alphas and men, none of them would ever consider you can handle a hunt, let alone work with them.

With shaking fingers, you check on the collected information once again. You should send Sam a message, tell him you believe that something is fishy about the absence of the witch, but you decide against it.

You offered all your information, your knowledge, and strength. “They got this, Y/N. Don’t give them the chance to make fun of you even more…”

“You are an interesting little insect, hunter. I knew the moment she called you, I found my new favorite victim.” Snickering the witch claps her hand before she throws something at Dean. 

“Bitch! You knew she called us?” Dean groans, glancing at his unconscious brother. “Does she work with you? Did the Beta kid ask you to take us down?”

“Are you that blind, hunter? That girl was so close to taking me down and unlike you, she could have made it. Her heart is pure, she never made fun of anyone. I could never weaken her as I weakened you, hunter.” The witch snickers and Dean wonders what she means.

“Pure heart?”

“Yeah. She told you – right? Yesterday, at the restaurant she told you I go after what did she say…” Smirking the witch moves her fingers through Sam’s hair. “Ah…she said I go after assholes. The kid was right.”

“It was a trap…great. That stupid Beta hunter gets us killed…” Grunting Dean tries to get his gun out.

“You still don’t get it, hunter. If you would not have treated her like all the other Alphas did, I wouldn’t have any influence on you. Good people like her, the ones never hurting someone on purpose do not fall victim to my powers…now…”

“I’ll kill you, bitch and then I’ll kill her…” 

“Hush now, hunter. I think you deserve a special gift, not just death. You caused pain; I’ll show you what she felt…” Blinding light fills the room and Dean falls to his knees, feeling lightheaded before he loses consciousness.

Checking your gun again, you sigh deeply. Over the last three days, two more people disappeared. You’ve got no clue why – but the Winchesters didn’t take the witch down.

Now you are on your way out of town to drive to her house, or rather Mansion to end the job you started. 

This time there will be no Alpha providing back-up, but also you will not hear any insults. 

The house is dark, almost like a Gothic dream and you’d like to have a look around, but you’ve got a job to do so you silently walk further into the house.

Oddly, the door with a strange sigil on it opens and you can see the witch sits onto a chair, legs crossed she grins at you.

“Here we go.” She says, something sinister in her voice. “Did you miss your friends or rather enemies? You can have him back or both. Just say the words.”

“What do you mean? I have no friends.” Your voice is controlled as you aim a gun toward her head. “Witch killing bullets. Don’t try to trick me, I did my homework.”

“I know, sweet little Beta. Unlike those Winchesters, you did not storm into my house without a charm or a pure soul.” Now she claps her hands and the room changes and you are suddenly in a dungeon.

“What did you do to them?” While Dean kneels in a corner, shaking, Sam tries to calm his brother. “I asked you a question.” Firing a bullet into the witch’s leg you clench your jaw. “Release them, now!”

“Fine…” Clapping her hands again the witch let the chains holding the Winchester disappear. “I made him a gift, but he does not like it.” Snickering the witch presses one hand onto her bleeding wound.

“Take it back! NOW!” Gun aimed at her head you narrow your eyes as Sam calls your name. “NOW!”

“Impossible.” Sam sighs. “She used something unique, it got destroyed and now Dean is…” Choking the word out Sam tries to find the right word.

“He is what?” Panicked you hear Sam whisper the word ‘beta’ and you want to laugh loudly but Dean’s low whines let you remain silent.

“You sure she can’t take it back, Sam?”

“One-hundred percent…” Dean grunts. “That’s your fault! She did it because of you!” Flinching you try to ignore Dean’s outburst.

“No, hunter. It’s your fault.” The witch coos. “I did it as you acted like an asshole. Now let negotiate…” She cannot lull you into kind words as you pull the trigger and a bullet ends her life.

“We’ve got to bring him out of here and check if we find anything to help your brother.” Ignoring your words Sam helps his brother up, not even giving you a second glance.

“Stay away from us, Beta. You did enough.” Dean snarls as you must watch them leave you alone with the dead witch.

“Leave me be! I am useless now. How can I be a hunter when I am Beta now! I can’t even scent you, Sam.” Dean barks.

The Winchesters do not know your room is next to theirs, you didn’t know either before you heard Dean smash things against the walls. “I hate being weak!”

“Dean calm down. You are still strong enough to push me to the floor! You lifted the goddamn table as if it weighs nothing. Apparently, your strength had nothing to do with your presentation.”

Dean drops the lamp he was about to throw against the wall, realizing he does not feel weaker. The only difference is his brothers’ scent does not make him want to dominate Sam.

“I…I am not weak?” Falling onto the bed Dean looks at his hands.

“Your instinct is gone, your ruts and the need to claim and knot an Omega, everything else is still normal.” Sam tries to calm his brother.

“I was an asshole and she punished me. Made me Beta.” Sam runs one hand through his hair, nodding silently.

“That witch had a sense of humor like Gabriel. She liked to fuck with people treating others badly. Y/N, she saved us, and I was an ass all over again.”

“She’s in the room right next to ours. Watched her sneak in and she did not leave so far. Maybe you should talk to her.”

“Hmm…”

“What do you want, Dean? Telling me it’s my fault you are a pitiful Beta now?”

Sighs leave your lips as Dean stands in front of your motel room. “I called a few people, Betas who are familiar with magic and witchcraft. I hope they can turn you back into an Alpha.”

“Listen…” Dean nervously chews on his lower lip before he decides to enter your room. “I could use advice in being Beta. I…I was an Alpha asshole so far and don’t know how to act like a Beta.”

“Not being an asshole is all it needs. Now if you would leave my room, I’d gladly go back to being a weak and meek Beta.” A chuckle leaves Dean’s lips as he plops down onto your bed. “I mean it…”

“You know…” Eying you warily Dean gives you a cocky grin. “Now that I am Beta we could let out all this pent-up tension. I thought about having sex as a Beta with you.”

“Did I have a stroke or did this shit just leave your lips?” Pushing against Dean’s shoulders you snicker as he feels your strength.

“You’re strong for such a tiny girl. How about I’ll give you advice on how to kick an Alpha’s ass and you help me with all this new crap I have to get used to.”

Dean’s eyes search your face and for the first time, you see he doesn’t want to make fun of you.

“What do you want to know, Dean?”

“Uh—food! Do you eat differently? Will I gain weight? How about sex? How does it work? I mean you do not scent an Alpha…how does…” Pressing your index finger to his lips you chuckle lightly.

“Everything is like it used to be when you were Alpha, okay. Except for the scenting and knotting part. Your uh…you know… will not expand but it should work like it used to do.” Nodding Dean scratches his chin.

“What if he’s smaller now? I mean Beta’s have smaller dicks…right?” Now you cackle as you glance at the bulge in his pants.

“I think this shouldn’t be a problem. Just go out and try it…him…I mean. Gosh, go find a girl and have sex. I can’t believe I said that…” 

“Can I try something? I want to know how it feels to touch a girl now. Please?” Groaning you fall onto your bed, covering your eyes with your hands. “Just your thigh…can I?”

“If you stop asking questions, you can touch my skin.” Humming Dean slides his fingers over your skin. There is a small smile on his lips as he can feel goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I think I owe you an apology for being a dick. I am sorry that I said all those stupid things. You are smart, strong and cute.”

The last word catches your attention and you remove your hands from your eyes to look at Dean. “I’d like to test it with you…not now…I mean…fuck…one day…”

“Can you not talk for a moment. I am getting a terrible headache.” While Dean lies next to you, just looking at you none of you says a word.

“We have a safe home, you know. I could ask Sammy, as he’s the Alpha now but I’d like you to come with us. I need my Yoda after all…” Laughing you punch Dean’s arm and he joins your laughter.

“I am no Yoda…”

“Fine. You can be my Lea. Now tell me everything about being Beta…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[blake-belladonna-defence-force]

Where Your Words Lay - Part 2

A follow up to this story here: https://blake-belladonna-defence-force.tumblr.com/post/190194078227/where-your-words-lay

A month after discovering each other, Blake decides to have a very important talk with Yang.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Blake!”

Blake let out a surprised laugh when Yang latched onto her in a tight hug as she opened the door. A month on from their first meeting and Blake still wasn’t quite used to Yang’s sudden hugs.

Not that Blake was complaining.

“Hello to you too, Yang.” Blake let out an amused snort as her recently discovered soulmate lifted her into the air for a brief moment before putting on the ground. “I really hope that that’s tuna bake that I can small in that bag.” Blake felt her ears lean forward with interest. “Otherwise, I’m kicking you out of my apartment, Goldilocks.”

“Yeah, Yeah. The only reason the universe gave me to you is so that I can feed you.” Yang sighed dramatically as she picked up her bag and walked into the kitchen. “Let me put in the oven to keep it warm until it’s time to eat, yeah, Beauty?”

Blake chuckled softly and made her way to her couch. Since their first meeting, she and Yang had been hanging out on an almost daily basis. Talking and getting to know each other. As they talked, they had developed little nicknames for each other based on stories that they reminded them of; Yang as Goldilocks from Goldilocks and the three bears and Blake as Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

Throughout that time, Yang had never shown even a sign of wanting more than friendship. She was respectful of Blake’s comfort zone and never made Blake feel uncomfortable around her. In all honesty, it felt exactly as she imagined it always would.

“So…” Yang said with a playful smile as she walked over with two classes of red wine, passing on to Blake as she sat down and crossed an ankle over her knee and gave Blake a charming smile. “You said you wanted to talk about something. What’s up?”

“Um.” Blake cleared her throat and sipped at her wine, needing the liquid courage. “It’s a bit more of a serious talk, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, Blake. Feel free.”

“Well… you know that I don’t talk to my parents or any of my old friends. But I’ve never told you why.” Blake inhaled deeply and continued. “I met a guy called Adam Taurus when I was 20. He was 25 at the time. My parents hated him. My friends didn’t trust him. But I let him convince to run away with him to Vale.” Blake paused and let out a frustrated growl. “But I guess that’s wrong. He got into my head. Made me feel small. Like I was nothing without him. He alienated and isolated me from my family and friends and manipulated me into believing that this move would be good for us.” Blake let out a dark, mirthless chuckle. “Spoiler alert; it wasn’t.”

“Oh Blake.” Yang said softly, lilac gaze steady and compassionate. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well.” Blake shrugged, taking another drink. “I learned my lesson and I’m not going to let anyone put me in that position again.”

“Blake… you don’t need to explain-“

“I’m not explaining myself. But before this... this soulmate thing continues, I need to get this out.” Blake said quickly. “This is for me, just as much as it is for you.”

“Okay. But if it gets too much for you, don’t force yourself. Please.”

“I won’t.” Blake promised with a shaky smile. Comfortable and respectful as always. “Um. It didn’t happen overnight. It was gradual. Little things that began to pile up. Eventually, I couldn’t even recognise him anymore. Or maybe it was that I never knew the real him in the first place.”

Blake fiddled with the hem of her shirt, her fingers lightly grazing her scar. She inhaled deeply and continued.

“It got worse as time went on. He went and got his mark covered by a tattoo, rejecting his soulmate and he tried to get me to do the same. But I knew what they said about the pain of soulmate rejection if it wasn’t mutual. I couldn’t do that to mine. To you.”

“Blake…” Yang murmured, her voice devastatingly soft.

“I, um.” Blake cleared her throat roughly. “I guess that he was jealous of somebody he never met having a soul bond to me. Somebody that he couldn’t scare into leaving me alone. He kept people away from me, stopped me from making friends.”

“He didn’t want to the risk of you meeting your soulmate.” Yang said, voice level and controlled, her eyes briefly shifting to what almost seemed red. “He wanted to keep a hold of you. To control you.”

“Yeah.” Blake shuddered, remembering his anger, his words, the backs of his hands… “He… didn’t like sharing. One day, we got into a bad fight. I was so tired of feeling like a prisoner. Of feeling like a fucking shell of a person. Choosing not to cover my mark was the one choice that I was able to consistently make and I couldn’t let him take that away from me. I wouldn’t let him take it from me.” Blake bit back her tears and continued. “He… he finally got fed up with my refusal. He took matters into his own hands.”

“His own- Blake!” Yang said, sitting up and putting her glass onto the coffee table and staring in dread at Blake. “What do you mean “took matters into his own hands?!” What did he do to you?”

“He stabbed me.” Blake whispered, heart racing as fear flooded her veins. If Yang rejected her now… “In my mark. I- I don’t- he wanted to scar me bad enough that it would sever the bond and-“ Blake was shaking, her entire body trembling as Yang gently took her glass and put it beside her own.

“Can I hug you right now?”

When Blake nodded, Yang pulled her into a firm hug, tucking Blake’s head into the crook of her neck and holding her close. Blake let her tears fall, occasionally letting pained sobs into Yang’s neck as Yang rubbed her back, gently soothing her and murmuring soft reassurances into her ear.

“He-“ Blake muttered, voice cracking as she pulled back to look at Yang sadly. “He didn’t succeed, the mark is still there, you can still read it… but the scar… it- it’s not- your words are emphasised by a fucking scar, Yang!” Blake stares desperately at her. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Yang whispered fiercely, tears filling her own eyes as she cupped Blake’s jaw and rested their foreheads together. “God, Blake. None this is your fault.”

“Why aren’t you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Becau- because… I’m broke-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Yang interrupted her gently, her voice cracking. “You are not broken! Hurt and scarred but never broken. You’re still standing. You’re still trusting and caring and letting people in. Coco, Velvet, Weiss… and me.” Yang shook her heads with a disbelieving laugh. “Even after he tried to destroy you, you’re still here. A scarred mark does not have a lesser connection than an unscarred mark. I hate that stupid wives tale! It’s cruel and heartbreaking.” Yang growled.

It was an old belief that if your mark was scarred before meeting your soulmate, that it was a match doomed to fail. It made the bond weaker, somehow. But here Yang was refusing it.

“Besides… I literally lost the part of my arm that had your words on it. The words shifted, moved up to my bicep. Do you blame me for that? Am I somehow unworthy because of it?”

“No, of course not!” Blake said instantly, ears flicking anxiously. “But… this was my fault!”

“No, it wasn’t. That asshole wore a mask and played a role. He tricked you, Blake.” Yang said firmly, eyes pained. “If anyone is to blame for their scars, it’s me. I was reckless on my bike and this…” Yang brought her prosthetic hand up and flexed her hand. “was the result. Am I still worthy of being your soulmate?”

“Of course!”

“Then why are you any different?” Yang said softly, thumbing away a tear. “It’s just an old wives tale told to get kids to not be reckless little shits. Does this connection between us feel weak to you?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Yang gave her a watery smile. “I’ve spent so long searching for you and I assume that you were planning on searching for me?” Blake nodded quietly. “I’m not going to force you to accept our marks. I’ll never force anything on you. But I do know that I would kick myself if I didn’t try to have you be a part of my life somehow.”

“I- me too.” Blake mumbled quietly, leaning into Yang’s hand slightly, instinctively seeking out her comforting touch.

“We don’t have to make any decisions right now.” Yang said gently. “But when we do, we make them together. I won’t force you either way, okay?”

“Okay.” Blake said shakily, clearing her throat before pulling back and giving Yang a watery smile. “Thank you, Yang.”

“Don’t thank me for treating with common decency and respect.” Yang said quietly. “Don’t thank me for treating you with the dignity that you always deserved.”

Blake swallowed past the lump in her throat and fiddled with her shirt. She let out a sigh and lifted the hem of her shirt, revealing her mark and scar and turned to face Yang.

“Here.” She murmured, refusing to meet Yang’s gaze. She heard the sudden intake of breath from next to her and felt Yang’s fingers graze her scar, tracing the word written on her skin.

“God. I am so sorry, Blake.” Yang whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “But this doesn’t change a thing, Beauty. Not to me.”

Blake exhaled shakily and lifted her own hand to trace her fingers along Yang’s mark.

“Same here, Goldilocks.”

She felt Yang pull her shirt back into place and watched as Yang offered her arms to her. Blake only hesitated for a moment before moving into them, sighing softly as Yang leaned back against the couch and pulled Blake close to her. Blake tucked her head under Yang’s chin and smiled shakily when Yang kissed the top of her head gently.

Making the decision to find her soulmate had been a good one to make. But choosing to let Yang in and pursue whatever this would lead to… Blake believed that Yang would be the best decision of her life.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

my annotations for chappy 11 of ysijwa

this is just for drea and leyla to read so if you're not drea or leyla pls keep scrolling :)

ok this is pretty chaotic and like i said earlier i treated this ike a wattpad comment section so... have fun ig :)

SHERLOCK AND WATSON CINEMATIC UNIVERSE SHUT UPPPPP I LOVE YOU SM DREA

NOT MISS SNAP CRACKLE POP

jealous y/n you say???

now i know why you ignored all my tiktok asks lmao

HELPLESS OH MY GOD

truly madly deeply intended :)

damn he's kind of a narcissist yk? like "I have to be serious my entire family depends on it" shut up mr darcy you're not special

devout in his religion hmmmmmm hopefully we see some more religious trauma content bc me too vampy

awww he wants kids but now he cant have them bc hes... dead :(

AWWW his sister taught him to knit :( if he doesn't knit bloodbag a sweater i swear to god

stuffy moron is correct

"IT'S A FUCKING WONDER HE EVER GOT LAID" OIJRIOJWEIOJIEWOJFIOEJOF

"THE ATROCITY THAT IS BEING ACQUAINTED WITH NIALL AND HIS HORRIBLE AFFINITY FOR CHEAP FLANEL" ORJFOIJFEIOWJ YOURE SUCH A POET

he's so dumb she was with him bc he's hot that much should be obvious to him🙄

FOOLISHLY HOPELESSLY UNMEASURABLY IN LOVE HWAT THE FUCK DREA IM SAD

i love that he remembers the spinal cord dislocation and the dead leaves . like yea im dead rn but the leaves in my hair are really what's bothering me the most

what the fuck is a maw

ok i looked it up i get it now

"attachment is for gullible idiots" yup and youre one of them vampy 😌

"the warmest skin his icy fingers had ever had the good fortune to touch" im so soft rn

oh so now she has "a wholesome beauty about her nature" ? i thought she was just cute enough 🤨

HE THINKS HER SMILE COULD RESTART HIS HEART THATS SO CUTE IM OUHOIJFOEWIJFIOEWJ

"the responsibility of keeping her safe, satisfied, and happy" how 🥺 🥺🥺

"as long as he breathes" i thought he didn't breathe lmao BUT I GET THE SENTIMENT

"always when it comes to her" IM SCREAMING RN THIS IS SO SOFT I CANT

ill never forgive him for being so dense either his brain is basically a rock

HE WANTED TO COMMUNICATE THAT HE BELONGED TO HER IM GONNA HAVE A STROKE

couldnt be me i dont want to be percieved

HE ADDED A FUCKING BUTTERFLY AFTER THE DISCO BALLS IM OIWFJIOEWJFIOEJIOEWNOJIWJ(*H(WUIOFJIOEWJFIOWHVIFUEH)U)($UT

HEY a hamilton obsession is not childish😤

'the only person who was allowed to touch him there was y/n' he's like a little kid who's possessive omggggggg

oh this reminds me i rlly hope everything in that chest was new and had never been used on anyone else owijfowiejfioewj

oh please my irish king can control himself let y/n meet the other vamps🙄

"if they knew all along why did it take so long" yk im wondering the same thing dummy

"every day was a battle to earn her love and affection" wtffff how could she hurt him like that he is just a baby

i think he needs therapy tbh

yes he does deserve to be treated with respect and dignity😤

"supporting and tolerating them despite your differences" exactly unless they're a republican

IM SORRY THAT WAS MEAN OIWFJOIWJFEIOw i said what i said tho

they did everything backwards but it's what baby needed🥺

im literally gonna 🔪 bradley how dare he hurt my favorite ribeye like that

PROPER BOYFRIEND-GIRLFRIEND BONDING PLSSSSS im sure he makes sure to say stuff like "as your boyfriend' or 'since youre my girlfriend' all the time now

"everything that has to do with harry has always and will always make her feel safe and secure" ...who's gonna tell her👀

HE BECOMES CLINGY IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

awwww my love language is also quality times bestiesssssss

(this is more serious you might want to change the words to nose kisses or something because esk*mo is a slur)

HE wants to be wrapped in HER arms and get forehead kissies like a little baby🥺🥺

i can tell you wrote this chappy bc leyla would never write about ice cream

IF CHRIST CAN GET A DATE MARKER SO CAN HARRY OIFJOEIWJFIOEWJFWI PLSSSSSSSSSS I LOVE HIM

ALWAYS FOR HER WEJFIOJWEIOFJEWIOFJOIEWJFOIEWJF HES SO IN LOOOOOVE

HE DID IT AND IM SO PROUD OF HIM🥺

omg i have a thot imagine if she got a heart murmur or something and obvi he knows bc he can hear it so now he has to find a way to make her get it checked out out without being suspicious 😭

HE ROCKS HER TO CALM HER DOWN WHEN SHES HAVING NIGHTMARES IJFEOWIJFOIWEFJ

“nearly blinds himself for eternity” what a drama queen i love him

maybe learn how to turn your brightness down grandpa

“can women sense emotional distress” why is this so funny oiewfjwieojfioewj

DEHUMANIZING OWEIJOIAJAKLFSDJLKSDJFKLD

not a psychotic episode 😭😭

crippling mommy issues woejfkljdklsjsdf me too king

awwwww he made her a full buffet i would cry

matchy socks im gonna sob

king is a chef 😌

y/n’s head @ harry’s clavicle rn: 💥

“his plush chest” drea its ok you can say titties

“absolutely flawless”? are you sure shes not just cute enough 🤨

he got her oat milk 🥺the sign of true love

hes such a shithead i love him

SPELLING HIS NAM E ON HER TUMMY IM HAVING ANOTHER STROKE

“I DIDNT WANT TO LEAVE YOU ALL ALONE” HES SO WOIFJSJFSDKJKLSDJF

HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO NIALL LIKE THAT 😭😭

RAPUNZEL HAIR OSIDJSKJKLSJF

she traces a tiny heart on him wtfffffffffff im sad

this… is hot

“theres no room on the counter” owifjlksjfslkfjklsj

HE WOULD WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR HER maybe then he’d be a little less cold

im sorry that was wrong of me lisjfskldjfwoiejewiojrei

OH MY GOD OWEIJFKLJSKLFJL SHES SO BOLD “can’t i?” OSIJFKSLJLKJF

oh boy hes gonna kill her

I WONDERED WHEN THE YOURE HOT WHEN YOURE MEAN THING WAS GOING TO COME UP

literally shut the fuck up mr english major

do it bestie kick him in the balls

SPARE BOOBIES MAAM I CNAT BELIEVE YOU aCTUALLY WROTE THAT OWIFEJWIJEKLJFOIEWHOEWIFEHFLKEWJFKLEWJKLJFL

IM WHITE IM ALLERGIC TO SPICE WEJFLKJFKLEJFLKJSKLJKFSJD

“character development at its finest” what a self aware king

y/n stop being mean to him baby just wants to feel close ☹️

“I’m anemic” ok king whatever u say

“ME AND MY CHRONIC ILLNESS IM SENSITIVE” IJFKLSDJFKLJSDKLJ

ahhhhhhh it’s yoga time

“just ask your cervix” jlksdjflksdjflkdsjflk

“if only you knew” ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

yeah y/n isnt like those other girls 🤪 shes different 🤪

yes bestie objectify him

THERE IT IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THIS ENTRIE BOOK

PERHAPS MY FAVORITE LINE IN ANY BOOK EVER

“He hasn't been this stiff since rigor mortis”

i think about this on a daily basis i truly do

grey shorts? what a slut

“call the lapd im pressing charges” me after walking up the stairs

OH SO THIS IS WHERE THE GREYS ANATOMY CHARACTERS FROM THE SPOILERS WITHOUT CONTEXT COME IN

him using his shirt as a towel im BARKING

“I wasnt jealous” yea ok 😃

AGAIN HIM DRAWING HIS INITIALS ON HER SKIN THATS SO WOIJFSKLDJFLSJ

yeah harold she just wanted a little kiss 😤

yeah 😃 its bc he ran track 😃

no bc thats so fucking cute that she pretended she had never seen the show before bc he was excited to introduce her to it 🥺

I would do the same tbh i feel like it would be fun to wash dishes with harry idk why

“that skank” oisjksldfjklsjfklsdjflkd

YOUR THICK SKULL COULD DAMAGE THE MARBLE LSKFJKLDSJKFLSDJFKLSJFKLSJKLSJLDKFJLSKDJF I WOULD CRY

he gets her a cup of water 🥺

ok but like wouldn't she want to wash her hair after it got all sweaty at yoga

awwwww she got his toothbrush ready for him why am i so soft rn

memory foam mattresses sound nice but actually they kind of suck bc you sink down and feel trapped in them 😃

HE WATCHED THE TIKTOK SHE SENT HIM IM HAVING A THIRD STROKE

niall is probably on the dumbest side of tiktok idek what side but it’s probably annoying and he thinks it’s hilarious

noooo baby youre not a monster🥺 someone give him a hug rn

well actually you are kind of a monster but its ok we still love u bestie

I too run on caffeine and pizza pockets 😌

TONSIL HOCKEY WHAT THE FUCK OIEJFLSDKJFKLSDJFLSJLKFJSDKLFJ

chatsnap hes such an old man 😭

true lmao if you dont have social media i immediately dont trust you

not the i just washed my hands tiktok 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HE FEELS STRANGELY PERCIEVED RN KJFLSJFLKSDJ IDK WHY THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME BUT IM LIKE LEGIT LAUGHING

DO IT BESTIE BITE HIM CHOMP CHOMP

“my eyes are stinging” hes such a baby 😭

“MY SIGH”TS ALL FUZZY” SJFKDSLJFLKDSJFLKDSJFLK

“are you all right” “I dont know :(’ i cant handle this my face hurts from smiling lksjflkjafklj

he has a kitchenaid stand mixer omg thats so sexy

ok but has anyone ever gotten salmonella from raw cookie dough bc i think thats just a myth

fuck u for that one vampy

wow he could never deal with my chronically ill ass

WAIT IS IT WAP

NOPE ITS BETTER LSDFJSDKLFJDS

I agree body is absolutely an instrumental masterpiece

I KNEW HE KNOWS SOME TIKTOK DANCES I KNEW IT

“I know youre kinda into that (getting smacked in the face)” SHUT UPPPPPPP SKJFSKDLJFDS

NOT HIM TWERKING SLKFJSDKLFJDSKLFJDSKL

YES YN GET THAT VIDEO AND BLACKMAIL HIM

“I think i popped something” ok old man 😭

why is the word wench so funny lkfjslkfjdslkfjsdlkfj

dont hand it over i want to see him snap

OH SHIT HE JUST JUMPED THE TABLE LSDFJSDKLFJLKDNMNXCMNJKHOIUIOEUR

oooooooooooo

OH MY GOD AGAIN SHE REALLY IS BOLD SLKDFJDSKLFJLSKDJFLKJFS

not guerrilla warfare 😭😭😭😭

do it bestie give him a concussion he deserves it

“no piece of art could ever compare to her” 🥺🥺

“remember that time you told me making out was childish” “no” i hate him 😭

THERE IT IS AGAIN “sex isnt the only way he can feel close to someone anymore” SHUT THE FUCK UP IM SOBBING

this reminds me of the dehydrated intercourse with demonrry

“don’t care, relationships are about sharing’ hes so sdjfksldjfklsjf

DO IT BESTIE KICK HIS KNEECAPS IN

suing disney for false advertisement 😭

THIS SCENE IS KILLING ME LKJFKLSJFLDSJ “just pucker your lips over it” “You have actual brain damage, dont you?” DREA I LOVE YOU KSDJFLDSKJFLKSDJ

how do those bubbles taste babe

ok drea wtf i was so happy and now this??????

“everything’s wrong” NO SHUT UP SHUT UP ITS HAPPY HOURS

not the boob privileges 😭

WAIT THIS IS FROM THE BSE MV ISNT IT “dance is just so hot rn” “depressing shades are just so hot rn”

NOT HIM GETTING ALL STUTTERY WHEN HE ASKS HER IF SHE WANTS A DRAWER 🥺

NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN THIS GENTLE WITH HIM BEFORE WTFFFFFFFF IM CRYING

“youre so fucking cute, my baby” me when i see literally any picture of him

JELLO HAS a STRONGER BACKBONE THAN THIS KSFJSDKLFJDSKLFJ

“betrayed. objectified. taken advantage of. used. “ i hate him sm 😭😭

OH MY GOD IS SHE GONNA SHAVE HIS FACE THATS SO CUTE IM

SHE ISsSSSSS IM SQUEALING

stop him worrying she’ll think it's weird and wont want to do it 🥺

“bold of you to assume id ever be convicted” PLS DREA LAKFJDKSLFJ

“the more you talk, the more appealing manslaughter sounds” I CHOKED DLSKFJDSKLFJDKSJFDSKLJ

HIM WHISTLING TO GET HER ATTENTION WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

Im sorry but its really funny to me how you wrote the sentence “wrong metal, he thinks ironically” … get it ? like IRONically lkfjdslkfj im sorry i’ll show myself out

“this boy?” what a fucking cutie i want to kick him

I forgot what a bop helpless is thanks for reminding me im gonna go listen to the entire soundtrack again-

theyre so fucking cute i hate them

so yea bascally this is the best thing ive ever read and i love you so much and my face hurts from smiling :)))

[itsclydebitches]

Hey Clyde! Love your reviews on RWBY. My question is about Ozpin. If he survived fighting Cinder, would the events of volume 4-6 still happen? I believe the only reason team RWBYJNR treated Ozpin that way was because he was with Oscar who basically looked like a kid to them. However, if he was still in his adult body, would they have been more respectful?

Hi, anon! Thank you! I’m actually super glad you asked this. I’ve touched on how Oscar’s age and looks have impacted how others perceive Ozpin a bit in other asks, but haven’t had the chance to compose a substantial meta about it. I will attempt to fix that here! 

FYI, it’ll get decently image heavy from here on out. 

First, as a general response to the question of whether the events of Volumes 4-6 would have changed if Ozpin had survived: absolutely. If only because Ozpin as a figurehead would have still been around to lead both his inner circle and function as a symbol of strength for the rest of the world. Unless he was completely incapacitated from the fight or something (like in a coma), the expectation is that Ozpin would have begun rebuilding his school. Glynda wouldn’t have been left alone to try and deal with a frozen Wyvern attracting grimm. Ironwood wouldn’t have been left to figure out where to go from here. Qrow wouldn’t have been sent on a mission to return Ozpin’s cane. The whole world (including Atlas) may have been less likely to panic with Ozpin there to provide perspective and support. Lionheart presumably would have been less inclined to betray him, at least so soon and so overtly. An Ozpin who will reincarnate at some unknown point is a future Lionheart problem, and therefore far less intimidating. An Ozpin who still lives and commands his inner circle is way more of a threat and Lionheart would be more likely to get caught. Remember that even Salem was surprised by how quickly Ozpin reincarnated and dove back into the game—all the baddies were banking on more time. So yes, a ton would have changed. The group’s focus is now more along the lines of, “So is Ozpin going to fix things and can we go back to school?” and less, “Ozpin is dead as a door nail and no one is able to fix things for us. Might as well go hunt Cinder ourselves.” 

But onto the meat of the ask. Is the group treating Ozpin like they are at least partly because he’s in the body of a kid? That’s also a resounding ‘yes.’ Human beings, including the humans and the faunus that we write in fiction, are incredibly judgmental (for better and for worse) based on how someone else looks. If you’re able to see then you tend to prioritize that information over other aspects of a person. We create markers that we then learn and assume mean something when, much of the time, they don’t. Or, to put it another way, we create stereotypes. We can think about this in terms of gender presentation: a masculine-looking person giving orders is seen as the “boss” whereas a feminine-looking person giving orders is seen as a “bitch.” We can complicate that with race: we’re more likely to view a white woman giving orders as “assertive” when compared to a black man giving orders. That’s “aggressive.” From giving a girl long blonde hair when you want to cue people into the fact that she’s (supposedly) dumb, to making a man skinny when you want him to seem vulnerable, our media is chock-full of those markers, subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) encouraging us to read characters in particular ways. There’s a reason that Yang, the go-getter, is blonde whereas Blake, the bookworm, has black hair. There’s a reason that Cardin wasn’t designed as a twig and Jaune is a couple inches shorter than him. There’s even a reason why the sap the group collects is red rather than, say, yellow, orange, blue—literally any other color. Only red sap makes it look like Cardin is covered in blood when he attacks Jaune, thus increasing how much we read him as a threat. The characters’ designs matter. 

What does all that have to do with Ozpin? Well, at the start of the series his markers all point to authority and wisdom. He’s a white man, for one. He dresses in a formal suit. There are nods towards his age (a cane, white hair) that tell us, despite his baby face, that he’s someone who has been around a while and thus has a great deal of experience to draw on. He’s also, significantly, tall. Take a look at how his talks with Ruby read visually. 

Ruby is incredibly small compared to Ozpin. He towers above her and she’s constantly in a position of looking up to him, mirroring the ways in which she figuratively looks up to him for advice. Her mannerisms are also younger and don’t carry much confidence. Crossing her arms and sulking. Wringing her hands while asking if she’s made a mistake. The way Ruby moves contrasts Ozpin’s own very still, very composed mannerisms. Body language and facial expression is one of the primary ways that we communicate and the slightest change can carry a world of meaning. For example, compare these two shots of Yang from Volume 1 and Volume 6: 

On the surface they appear quite similar, but provided there isn’t something impacting how we read these moments (such as some people with autism), we learn that these poses mean two very different things. Two hands on your waist is a relaxed pose; one hand on your waist is an arrogant pose. At least when combined with an angry expression. One arm, the placement of her eyebrows, and suddenly Yang’s attitude towards Ozpin has radically changed. We went from casual respect to defiance, and most viewers wouldn’t need to know anything else about RWBY’s story to read that here. Her body language alone tells the story. 

Ozpin’s body language with Ruby then cues the viewer into the fact that he (supposedly) has the answers here, simply by virtue of him exuding a confidence that Ruby doesn’t possess yet. Who do you look to in a bad situation? The person screaming and running around in panic? Or the person who calmly announces that they can help, getting everyone else to calm down by keeping calm themselves? This sort of characterization is partly why the fandom grew suspicious of Ozpin early on. It’s not simply that he (on the surface) is modeled after the shady authority figure trope, but that we’ve learned from real life experience that a person’s ability to keep calm and speak eloquently doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re right. Sounding authoritative is a skill and it’s why the likes of cult leaders and dictators are so dangerous. If you just sound and look like you know what you’re doing, people have a tendency to believe you. And if you’re inclined towards critical thinking, you might be wary of the person whose demeanor is a little too polished. 

Even when Ozpin is being playful he maintains a certain level of dignity. His clothes, his physical looks, and the controlled movement of the mug—he’s not jumping around like Nora might—all remind us that Ozpin is the headmaster here and thus, though he’s making silly jokes about popcorn right now, he deserves a certain amount of respect. Even his posture speaks volumes, one arm still tucked behind his back and shoulders ramrod straight. It’s a posture that speaks of training and discipline. There’s a reason that the general (Ironwood) is always animated as standing tall with hands neatly folded and the presumably less dependable drunk (Qrow) is animated with a constantly hunched posture. How Ozpin stands is a quick and easy way to tell the viewer, “This guy is in charge. He’s powerful. He’s wise. You can rely on him.” 

All of this changes dramatically once Ozpin is thrown into Oscar’s body. Moving chronologically, it’s significant that the group is not introduced to this new Ozpin as a dignified individual. 

This is what we get later. Note the crossed legs, still good posture, even the ‘adult’ way he holds a mug. In contrast, someone younger and more childish in terms of their personality, like Ruby, tends to hold a drink with two hands and chucks it all back in a manner that would never fly at a dinner party. 

Rather than a dignified Ozpin knocking at the door, the group first encounters Oscar, someone who, like Volume 1 Ruby, can be incredibly timid and lacks in self-confidence. This isn’t the body language of a leader arriving to provide you with all the answers. 

Oscar’s slouched posture, downward gaze, wringing hands, and fearful expression all paint him as the weak one here. Made worse by the fact that he asks to see Ruby and ignites (an entirely understandable) suspicion in the group. Their first interaction is characterized by perceiving him as both a potential threat, but also one they can easily handle. We don’t like that he’s asking about Ruby, but we can take him in a fight no problem. 

And yes, this first impression makes a difference. Knowing something about someone on an intellectual level usually doesn’t trump the emotional response we have to the physical markers we’re faced with. As a non-RWBY example, let’s say you were introduced to these two characters. 

Ignoring for a moment that we’re comparing a villain and a hero, let’s say for the sake of argument that you’re told—and are provided proof—that each of these characters are morally sound, powerful adults and you should afford them with the respect they deserve. Being told that simply can’t outweigh what we see. Who are you more likely to respect? The woman who looks like a literal child named Baby Doll in a cutesy outfit, or the very old looking man in badass robes, literally named the Ancient One? All the, “But I am an adult” in the world isn’t going to convince people to read, and therefore respond to, Baby Doll in the same way they would the Ancient One. 

That’s the situation Ozpin is in now. He’s told the group that he’s Ozpin, he’s managed to prove it, but there’s always going to be a part of Ruby and the gang that doesn’t quite believe it. Not in Jaune’s literal sense of, ‘He could be lying about who he is,’ but just in a more instinctual, ‘He says he’s our headmaster, but all I see is a fourteen year old kid.’ What you see makes it really easy to ignore what you know, particularly when those two things contrast. Those markers Oscar brings to this new version of Ozpin are simply too influential and yes, that opens the door for the group to treat him with far less respect than they would in his adult form. We see it right from the start when, despite having been told that this is also Ozpin, the group coos over him in an overbearing, disrespectful manner. 

This continues even after Ozpin has taken control and is doing everything he can (those dignity markers) to regain some level of trust and respect. Even while seated and attempting to command the room as Headmaster Ozpin, Nora nevertheless undermines that with “Cute little boy Ozpin!” She has chosen to emphasize his looks over his status and notably no one listens when he says, “Please don’t call me that.”

Ozpin has, in this moment, literally been labeled as a child. A “boy.” Though we can’t be sure about what age all his hosts were when Ozpin arrived, based on Jinn’s vision it doesn’t look as if reincarnating into teenagers is common. This may even be the first time.   

Any of these past reincarnations would have been able to command more authority, simply because they’re adult men not dressed in dirty farm clothes. If this Ozpin had shown up in Haven, 

we would have gotten a very different volume. Age matters. How we perceive age matters. We saw this right in RWBY’s second episode wherein Weiss calls Ruby out on attending Beacon. 

It’s Ruby’s looks and Ruby’s looks alone that encourage Weiss to come to the conclusion, ‘You shouldn’t be here.’ The same thing has now happened to Ozpin. You look younger than us and are inhabiting a body that physically couldn’t beat us in a fight? You shouldn’t be here. You definitely shouldn’t be giving us orders. 

The group had control of Ozpin’s safe house. They were poised to interrogate him for showing up at it unannounced. Now they emphasize Oscar’s age and characteristics over his, which is ironically the only time that they emphasize Oscar’s individuality over Ozpin’s. In short, they’ve created an environment where a part of them truly believes that they’re older and more knowledgeable simply because of how Ozpin now looks, even though technically they know this isn’t true. It’s a new dynamic and with that comes the confidence to treat him like the fourteen year old stranger he “is”. I don’t believe for a moment that Yang would have ignored Ozpin’s direct questions, shot out irrational accusations, and then demanded a promise from him if he still looked the way he did at Beacon. Especially as someone who came to Haven later and therefore missed the initial proof, Yang simply doesn’t read Ozpin as Ozpin. We’ve seen how other characters interact with him from a student-teacher dynamic and it’s far more respectful. 

As this shot demonstrates, there’s also that issue of Ozpin’s size. Where as a headmaster Ozpin commanded authority by being taller than almost everyone else around him, Ozpin as Oscar immediately loses authority by being the smallest in the room. As I mentioned with Jaune and Cardin, size is an easy way to emphasize vulnerability. We quite literally couldn’t have gotten this scene if Ozpin was still 6'6" and looking twice Jaune’s age. 

In this scene Jaune honestly thinks this might be Ozpin. He’s accusing him of lying again, of claiming to leave when really he’s spying on them, or just pretending to be this kid called ‘Oscar,’ whatever. The point is that Jaune is working under the assumption that he’s interacting with his headmaster, yet that knowledge obviously doesn’t give him pause. Because Ozpin’s new look outweighs everything else Jaune knows about him. He’s angry and now suddenly Ozpin isn’t an intimidating huntsmen capable of defending himself, Ozpin is a teeny-tiny kid with no training. Jaune becomes Cardin through the realization of, “Oh. If I’m bigger and more powerful than this person, I can do whatever I want to them.” 

Ozpin’s size is an ongoing reminder that, despite possessing his own skill as well as magic, he’s in a vulnerable position. He needs to stand on the furniture in order to recreate his students literally and figuratively looking up to him, but now it just reads as a joke. 

This isn’t the first time RWBY has used size this way. Cordovin is an excellent example of how a small, non-dignified looking person is unable to maintain authority in the way someone with another appearance might. Her white hair just makes her look old rather than wise and her short stature is so extreme that it invites humor. It’s not just that Cordovin is a racist, or that her guards act like Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Her appearance immediately gave the group another excuse for why they shouldn’t listen to her. Look at this tiny old woman trying to tell us what to do. Yeah right, lady. We could probably punt you into the sun so step aside.

This is a look that makes guards release prisoners in three seconds flat. 

This is a look that encourages laughter and, by extension, a lack of respect. 

The extreme camera angle in order to make Cordovin look ‘imposing.’ The fact that she looks like a literal child next to Weiss… none of it encourages the group, or the audience, to take her seriously. Rooster Teeth made a conscious decision when they decided to animate Volume 6′s “bad guy” as an old woman with sagging breasts and an extremely small stature. 

The only time when someone that small is re-characterized as authoritative is when they’re standing up against unimaginable odds. 

Ignoring that this scene in reality is Ruby refusing to take responsibility for the crimes she is currently committing, what Rooster Teen wants this shot to do is function as an example of extreme heroism. That’s accomplished by taking our second smallest character and situating her in front of a larger-than-life mech. Ruby’s refusal to back down in the face of something so much bigger than her is (again) supposed to be inspiring. She’s standing up to Cordovin’s “bullying” in a way Oscar was unable to do with his own mech: a bigger and more threatening Jaune. 

(I really cannot express how awful Volume Six was wow). 

All of which brings me to my final point. Namely that, by virtue of his age and size, Ozpin as Oscar will always look ridiculous when attempting to make use of his former markers. Using a cane? 

Headmaster Ozpin’s age and height makes it look distinguished. Ozpin at Oscar’s age and height makes it look silly. What’s the fourteen year old doing with a cane nearly as tall as he is? (Acknowledging that this is an ableist assumption. Some fourteen year olds do need canes, but most viewers are going to question this in a way they never would with the white-haired adult). What’s the kid doing with such a fancy looking cane when he’s literally covered in dirt, bandages, rags, and badly mended clothes? That’s a silly contrast. 

Headmaster Ozpin fighting? Totally badass. One of the shortest and yet most talked about fights in the show. 

Ozpin as Oscar fighting? Still badass… if you’re willing to work for it a bit more. But really, the kid swinging a cane around just will never have the same feel as a grown man who looked like Ozpin did. 

Ozpin himself is a dignified person, but anytime he adopts those mannerisms now he looks silly at best, arrogant at worst. 

I think his look is largely why so many fans read the snow scene as him talking down to the group. He no more talked down to them here then he did when he conversed with Ruby, or Pyrrha, or the team while heading off to Mountain Glenn. The only difference is that the previous Ozpin commanded all that authority, so his warnings and criticisms held weight. This Ozpin not only doesn’t look the part of an authority figure, half his time is spent being Oscar, someone who defers to and scurries around the rest of the group. So when Ozpin tries to take charge here, everyone is far less willing to listen. People are inclined to read him as arrogant, patronizing, talking down to others, etc. because it looks like a small child giving orders to a more older, more powerful team. Even though it’s not. 

It’s the combination of everything above that leads to moments like this. Where Ozpin is smaller, more vulnerable, looks too young, too naive, where the group towers over him for once and hurts him both physically and emotionally because now they can. 

Tl;dr: Yeah. Oscar’s looks and Oscar’s personality changed things irrevocably. If Ozpin had still looked like Ozpin the group wouldn’t feel half as entitled to this behavior and gaining their respect—from ‘Please don’t address me like that’ to ‘Please understand why I kept secrets’—would be far, far easier. 

[bishielurvmaxxie]

10 Things I’ve Let Go and How This Has Set Me Free

By Sara Fabian

“I do not fix problems. I fix my thinking. Then problems fix themselves.” ~ Louise Hay

Looking back on my life, I came to understand that perfection was my worst enemy. I was raised in an environment of high expectation, and every day in school felt like I was competing with others and fighting to be the best in class.

At the age of ten I believed I was stupid just because my brain couldn’t work out physics and math. I was good with literature, arts, and foreign languages, but that wasn’t a sign of brilliance in the Eastern-European culture that shaped me.

Much later, as a grown-up woman, I didn’t see myself as good enough, beautiful enough, smart enough, or successful enough. I felt unworthy of being loved by a wonderful man, unworthy of getting a good paycheck to reflect my skills and talents, too unworthy to apply for a tempting position at work.

My life looks completely different today, and I embrace the new me with much gratitude and joy. I love myself as I am. I am happily married and doing what I was born to do in the world.

So how did this shift happen?

I can recall myself feeling overwhelmed after a long meeting at work, and looking for some inspiration to help me release the stress and feel better. As I was searching for The Secret movie on the YouTube, I “accidentally” opened another video that went straight into my heart: You Can Heal Your Life, by Louise Hay.

Today, I know that was no accident. The teacher shows up when the student is ready—so true! I was so touched and absorbed by that movie, I couldn’t stop watching. Listening to Louise was pure magic; every single word went straight into my heart. I finally felt home, in a space where it was perfectly okay to be me: “I love and approve myself as I am. I am whole and complete and life loves me.”

Over the next year, I discovered the work of other enlightened souls—Wayne Dyer, Byron Katie, and Don Miguel Ruiz—inviting me to precious moments of self-reflection and deep learning. Their teaching helped me to let go of old thinking patterns and cultural limiting beliefs that didn’t serve me well.

After much trial and error applying their wisdom to my life, I have found a new sense of freedom. Here’s how:

1. I’ve let go of the need to be perfect.

I am perfectly beautiful and beautifully imperfect, and this is what allows me to be me.

Perfection is an illusion—it doesn’t exist. I stopped stressing myself out trying to be perfect and now I am always aiming for “good enough.” I have learned to embrace my mistakes as much needed opportunities for growth, blessings in disguise that make me wiser. If I fail at anything, it doesn’t mean I’m a failure, because I am not what I do. Sometimes we win, sometimes we learn. We never lose.

“Your best is going to change from moment to moment: it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse and regret.” ~Don Miguel Ruiz 

2. I’ve let go of the need to be busy all the time. 

Being in a rush isn’t a sign of virtue. I have learned to listen to my body, and I no longer feel guilty for doing nothing. I know I sometimes need to recharge the batteries of my body and soul, and I don’t feel like I owe anyone any explanation for doing that.

If I don’t have time for myself, I make it. Watching a good movie, listening to relaxing music, reading a good book, singing, taking a walk to connect with nature—I do whatever makes my heart sing.

“I am a human being, not a human doing. Don’t equate your self-worth with how well you do things in life. You aren’t what you do. If you are what you do, then when you don’t…you aren’t.” ~Dr. Wayne Dyer 

3. I’ve let go of self-criticism.

I pay attention to my inner talk; I don’t call myself names, and I treat myself with dignity and respect. I stopped telling myself things I would never tell a good friend. I am enough, whole, and complete.

I have come to understand that in life, we don’t get what we want. We get what we think we deserve. That’s why it’s necessary to believe in ourselves and see ourselves as enough and worthy of the best things life has to offer.

“You’ve been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.” ~Louise Hay

4. I’ve let go of blaming.

I now know that each time I blame someone else, I am making myself a victim. Blaming others for taking my time, my money, or my love is unfair, because I always choose how much I give and to whom. No one can hurt me or upset me without my conscious (and often unconscious) consent.

Instead, I now take responsibility for the way I feel, act, and think. I am in charge of my actions, and I know my future is the result of my current choices. I am what I believe and whatever I choose to be.

“All blame is a waste of time. No matter how much fault you find with another, it will not change you. You may succeed in making another feel guilty about something by blaming, but you won’t succeed in changing whatever it is about you that is making you unhappy.” ~Wayne Dyer

5. I’ve let go of judging.

I know that everyone is on their own journey, and my job is to focus on my own. I also know that each time I am judgmental with people, I’m reacting to something that bothers me about myself. If I believe you are mean, it means I can also be mean; how could I see that in you, otherwise?

“Placing the blame or judgment on someone else leaves you powerless to change your experience; taking responsibility for your beliefs and judgment gives you the power to change them.” ~Byron Katie

6. I’ve let go of making assumptions about what other people feel, want, or think.

I am not them, so there’s no way to know what they’re feeling and thinking.

I stopped making up imaginary scenarios and letting my mind play with me. Each time I find myself disturbed by what people do or say, I know it’s time for a reality check.

From “The Work” of Byron Katie, I’ve learned to examine the thoughts that trouble me and ask myself: “Is that true?” Many of my assumptions likely aren’t. For example, I might assume someone doesn’t like me, when really she’s just having a bad day. Or maybe she’s just shy. Not everyone is the same.

The moment I realize I can’t know what this person thinks, simply because I am not her, my mind gets clear and I am able to meet her with an open heart.

“I found that my unquestioned assumptions were the cause of all war and all peace in my world.” ~Byron Katie 

7. I’ve let go of competing with others.

I now know that my need to fight is nothing but my ego’s scream for self-validation. I don’t need anyone to lose any game so that I can feel good about myself. I love harmony, collaboration, and win-wins.

I’ve stopped comparing myself to others. I choose to connect with people from a place of love instead of fear, and I believe in abundance. I choose to believe that we live in a supportive Universe, where there is enough of everything and for everyone, including myself.

“Love is cooperation rather than competition.” ~Dr. Wayne Dyer

8. I’ve let go of chasing happiness.

I no longer project my happiness into an imaginary future, hoping that someday, when I have that job, that house, that car, that success, I will be happy. I have learned to find happiness in the small pleasures of life, and I embrace the only reality that is, the present moment, with gratitude and much joy.

I stopped waiting for the weekends to feel like living because each day is a gift and every single moment is precious and equally important.

The day I shifted my focus from stressed to blessed, everything changed. I am thankful for everything I am and for everything I have: a healthy body and mind; a loving family; a few genuine, last longing friendships I’ve made over time; and a job I love and believe in.

“I have noticed that the Universe loves gratitude. The more grateful you are, the more goodies you get.” ~Louise Hay

9. I’ve let go of worrying about the future.

I accept that there are things in life that I cannot control, no matter how hard I might try. Each time I find myself worrying, I keep telling myself “Time will tell.”

I might not always get what I want, but I know I always get what I need. I trust the flow of life, and choose to believe we live in an intelligent Universe, where everything unfolds perfectly. Sometimes in life, even the time needs time.

“Life is simple. Everything happens for you, not to you. Everything happens at exactly the right moment, neither too soon nor too late. You don’t have to like it…it’s just easier if you do.” ~Byron Katie

10. I’ve let go of pleasing others.

I no longer seek external validation so that I can feel liked or accepted. Worrying about what others think is a waste of time. Other people’s opinion of me is all about them and what they see in me, filtered through their lenses; it has zero to do with me.

I’ve stopped expecting others to give me what I wasn’t giving myself: love, care, and attention. Loving myself as a whole—body, mind, and soul—is not selfish. I keep my cup full of self-love, and I take good care of my needs and my heart’s desires.

I have learned how to make powerful choices for my highest good without worrying about disappointing people. People disappoint themselves by setting expectations for who they want me to be or what they want me to do.

Saying no to things we don’t want to do is a learned practice and a sign of self-care. If it sounds like a “should,” I don’t do it. I go for the things that feel like a want. My wants come from myself, instead of being imposed on me by others. I always choose how I am spending my precious time and with whom. I know my time is my life, and it’s never coming back.

My life is about me and I have the right to make my own choices. Life is to be lived, not existed, and I choose to live it authentically, with no apologies and no regrets.

“Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.” ~Don Miguel Ruiz

—

My self-transformation into the mindful person I am today didn’t happen overnight. It’s been an ongoing process that required continuous inner work.

Today, I am still a student at School of Life, and every day is a great opportunity for new learning. I know that I have the power to create my own reality, by the way I think. So I make sure I nourish my mind with healthy thoughts, knowing my mind has power.

And now, I would like to hear from you. Are you holding on to any of these things? What’s preventing you from letting them go?

Not mine. This was taken from tinybuddha.com and written by Sara Fabian.

[alleiradayne]

Talk Dirty To Me

Summary: Jo and Dean celebrate twenty years together, but things go a little sideways when Jo unintentionally insults him. Rating: Explicit Square Filled: Breeding Tropes: Breeding and Dirty Talk Warnings/Tags: Lots of dirty talk, daddy kink, breeding kink, Dom!Dean, sub!Jo, oral, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, actual talk of having a baby, sweet fluffy ending. Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Jo Harvelle Word Count: 5,543 Author: @alleiradayne Artist: @mere-mortifer A/N: For @spnkinkbingo this fills the Breeding square, and for @supernaturaltropecelebration, this fills the tropes Breeding Kink and Dirty Talk kink. Song: Talk Dirty To Me by Poison

Rare were the moments Dean breathed easy. But tonight, he had. For the first time in decades, he had nothing to worry about.

As he dried the last of their dinner plates, Dean hummed along to the steady rock beat of Nothing but a Good Time as it played on the record player. Beside him, Jo bobbed her head and swayed her hips as she wiped down the sink and hummed with him. Together they had prepared a dinner fit for kings, and they had eaten like the royalty they had always said they were. Most hunters weren't so lucky to find a love like theirs. Even when they did, it rarely lasted, and for predictably unfortunate reasons.

But Dean and Jo? They'd cheated death, fate, God, destiny, the whole gamut more times than you could shake a stick at. No, the years had not been kind to them. And yet they'd made it through twenty of them together. So, on the eve of their anniversary, they had decided to celebrate.

They owed it to themselves. Not that they hated hunting. But back when Dean turned forty, talks of retirement had started. Jo had tried her damnedest to get him to hang it up a few years earlier, but it had taken another narrow miss on Sam's behalf—a wendigo had pinned him dead to rights if it hadn't been for Eileen’s quick thinking—for Dean to call it quitting time.

Hunters never truly retired. With Sam and Eileen only a few minutes into town, the four of them worked small cases nearby, run of the mill salt n' burns, the occasional werewolf. Nothing more than a few hours’ drive away. Angels, demons, and Chuck had, at long last, decided it was high time they stop fucking with the Winchesters and their family. With four averted apocalypses, the near extinction of angels, and an empty throne in Hell blocked by Sam, those cosmic beings finally figured out it was time to give it a god damn rest once and for all.

The bright clinking of crystal snatched Dean's attention as he finished drying the last plate. Over his shoulder he found Jo pouring out the end of a twenty-one-year scotch, plenty to keep them both warm and toasty on that chilly fall night. Jo hefted her glass, crystal on her pale pink lips, and Dean watched, mesmerized by the bob of her throat. She hadn't aged a day if he had anything to say about it. Still the brave, boundless soul he had met all those years ago, Jo Harvelle had wrapped him around her little finger the day they’d met. After she had punched him in the nose, that was.

“I'm a little sad,” she mused as she held her glass up to the light. The warm amber liquor flickered as she peered through the crystal. “Was a particularly good bottle of Dal.”

With the plate put away, Dean crossed the kitchen and took his glass from her. “We’ll find another,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her, hand resting at the small of her back. A sip from his glass extracted a pleased hum through his nose. “Damn, that is good. You sure know how to pick 'em.”

Jo grinned. “Comes with the territory. And you outdid yourself tonight. A cowboy that knows how to cook pheasant. Color me surprised.”

A swell of pride warmed his cheeks. Or maybe it was the whiskey. “I'll have to keep that recipe. You enjoyed it?”

“Enjoyed it?” she scoffed. “Was like eating candy,” she continued as she sat at the kitchen table.

A moment of silence lingered between them, and for once, it settled not with anxiety, but peace and serenity. Dean allowed himself the space to drift there a little longer, but when he regarded Jo, he found her smile had faded and the excited glow in her eye dimmed.

With sudden clarity, she met his gaze and said, “I got lucky with you, you know?”

Dean sat beside her around the corner of the table, his hand around hers as it cupped her glass. “How so?”

She thought a moment, big hazel eyes searching the room for the words. “You’re kind. Kindest man I’ve ever met. You've always been sweet to me no matter what.” Her smile contorted, sardonic. “I don't know what I ever did to deserve you.”

If she thought she was lucky then what did that make him? Any luckier and he’d get struck by lightning. “You were you,” Dean started as he took her hand in his. “Simple as that. You didn't have to do anything but be yourself, sweetheart.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, one by one.

“Stop,” she whined with her half-hearted protest and rosy cheeks. “I'm serious, Dean. You were so sweet to me. Even at nineteen, I’d met my fair share of men, and not a single one of them came close to treating me with any kind of the respect or dignity you did. Hell, even in bed, you were more courteous and caring than most people are in public. You still are!”

Courteous? Caring, sure, but courteous? “Am I really that boring to sleep with?”

She laughed her obnoxious cackle at that, with a hand to her stomach as she leaned back, and her shoulders shook. “Oh, honey, don't worry, you’re a damn good lay.”

His nose scrunched as he thought for a moment. “Damn good lay? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

Jo stood then and drained her glass before she spoke. “Gimme a break. You know you’re very respectful and courteous in bed. I don't think I've ever even heard you say anything remotely dirty during sex.”

Ever? Not once had he so much as mumbled a, “fuck me, Jo,” or, “ride my cock”? Impossible. There was no way.

Except the look in her eye said otherwise. Impulse gripped him in a thoughtless vice, and Dean snatched her wrist as she stepped towards the sink. Jo stumbled to a halt with an indignant squawk and glared at him. From his chair, he stared into her eyes without raising his head, his brow cocked and a subtle purse to his lips. When she remained still, Dean said, “I can change that.”

A beat of bated breath lingered between them, Dean holding her enraptured gaze. He leaned into her, inched closer as he coaxed her to him with a delicate pull of her wrist, and in that a moment, Dean thought he had convinced her. That was, until she broke, her barking laughter ringing through the entire house. A patronizing hand smoothed his hair as she kissed the top of his head and sighed.

When she attempted to pull from his grasp Dean held her firm. Jo struggled against his grip and her laughter ended abruptly. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Dean stood, rising to his feet with a slow and steady straightening of his back. His shoulders rolled as he jerked her flush to his chest, and Jo protested with a feeble repeat of her question. “Dean? What's going on?”

The idea of treating her with anything less than every ounce of his respect stayed his hand. But if all she asked for was some dirty talk, he could do that. At least, he wanted to. He wanted to give her whatever she wished. The longer he thought on it, the more he understood. And the more he understood, the harder his cock strained against his pants.

Before he pushed himself any further, Dean placed a tender kiss to her lips as he cupped her cheek. Tension oozed from her shoulders as she melted into him, her free hand smoothing over his arm as she set her glass on the table. With great care, he timed his move and grabbed her hand, then spun her back to him. Her protest clipped short when he pinned her hips to the edge of the table, his entire body flush to hers and bearing over her shoulder. With his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

Jo bucked her hips into his groin a she hummed her approval through her nose, but Dean held her hard and fast against the table. Damn her and her writhing body. In new territory, he wanted to take his time, but he worried he might not get the chance. But if she wanted him in that way, then it would have to be under his conditions, his control.

“You'll do as I say?” he asked.

Another lewd sigh fell from her parted lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shudder that rolled along his spine weakened his knees. If she joined in on the dirty talk, their foray might not last very long. “Then only I get to talk,” he whispered into her ear. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she mewled.

Dean grunted under the strain of control, far too eager to feel her wrapped around him again. Deep breaths steadied his hands as he reached beneath her arms and unbuttoned her jeans. “I want to fuck you, sweetheart. I want to fuck you and come inside you.”

Another shudder rolled through her body and echoed in his as she moaned a long high cry. God, but her voice alone was enough to unravel him to bare threads. In a fit of frustration, he grasped the hem of her shirt and tore it over her head. Long blonde waves cascaded down her back and Dean buried his face in the crook of her neck as he grasped her breasts. Between the nips and licks and kisses, Dean spoke through his labored breaths. “Fuck, sweetheart, I love your tits.”

Her restrained whimper caught in her throat, more of a grunt than a sigh. That she struggled against her instinctive reactions aroused Dean further, a blurry haze clouding his thoughts. He wanted proof of what his words had done to her, and so, he slipped his hand down her stomach towards her pants. Palpable tension heaved her chest as he smoothed her skin with the flat of his hand until it slipped beneath the fabric and Dean found what he so desperately sought.

“So wet for me already. You really do enjoy this,” he continued as his fingers slipped inside her. “God, I can't wait to fuck you,” he started, “Can't wait to pound your pretty little cunt with my cock until I come inside you and put a baby in your belly.”

If Dean hadn’t felt it, he wouldn't have believed it, but Jo's entire body convulsed, and her pussy clenched around his fingers. Nonsense fell from her lips as she attempted to remain quiet like he had demanded. At least she couldn’t string more than three words together otherwise he might have come in his pants. “Good girl,” Dean whispered in her ear. “I like it when you follow orders. But I like it when you beg me for it, too,” he teased as his fingers pumped her flesh.

“Oh, fuck, Dean, I’m so close, please,” she cried. “I’m gonna come, please, harder, keep going!”

Christ, was that all it took? A couple fingers and a few salacious words? What exactly had he said that had shoved her so violently into delirium? He wrapped his arms tighter around her as he rolled the hard shaft of his cock against her ass through their clothes, determined to find out. “Do you like it when I tell you how much I want to fuck you?”

Jo merely nodded as she turned into his lips for a quick kiss. While pleasing, he had hoped for a different answer. “What about coming inside you? Do you like that? Do you like the idea of my cum pouring out of your pussy?”

Another depraved moan burst from her lips, but again, she said nothing of note. It occurred to him then that, after years of endless hunting and instability, something else he had said might be closer to the truth than he ever expected.

A grin widened his smile as he whispered in her ear. “You want a baby.”

As if the world had come to a screeching halt, Jo froze. Her entire body seized, completely still but for the hard thumping of her heart. “How did you know?”

Dean released her breast as he laughed a wicked laugh through his nose. “Because the idea of me knocking you up has you wetter than I've ever felt,” he stated a he withdrew his fingers from her sex. In the kitchen light, her arousal glistened on his middle and ring finger as strings of her fluid stretched between them. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Jo did as he said, lips parted and tongue reaching as he slipped his fingers into her mouth. Sealed, she sucked him clean, and Dean braced himself against her hips as he withdrew his fingers with a pathetic moan. Damn that woman and her sinful mouth. If he wasted anymore time toying with her, she’d ruin his shorts without even trying. And he couldn't have that. They were just getting started.

“So,” he started as he wrapped his arms around her once more, hands smoothing her stomach. “Do you want me to put a baby in your belly?”

“I just want you to fuck me, Dean,” she growled as she pried at her pants.

Dean snatched up her wrists, gathered in one hand and pinned them to the small of her back. “Oh, slow down, honey. We’ll get there,” he teased as his free hand slipped her jeans over her ass. “Lord knows I want to bury my cock in your sopping cunt right now and pound into you until I fill you with my seed. But where's the fun in that?” He nipped at the shell of her ear and Jo writhed as if to escape him. “Yeah, you love this, don't you? Never heard me talk to you like this, like you’re my little plaything to fuck and fill and breed whenever I want. You’re my mare and I'm your stallion.”

All manner of divine whimpers and moans sounded on her breathless lips at his words. But the end was in sight. He wished to string her out longer—maybe she would come if he kept talking that way—but if he kept at it, he'd never make good on any of his promises. So Dean slipped his fingers into the hip of her underwear and tugged them to her ankles where Jo flung them aside with a swift flick of her ankle.

“I'm gonna let you go, sweetheart,” he whispered, “and I want you to stay right where you are. Do you understand?”

Jo nodded with a vigorous shake of her head as she leaned against the kitchen table. Dean, however, was unsatisfied with that response. “Say it. Tell me you understand.”

Ever the seductress, Jo shot him a coy smirk over her shoulder. “I understand, Daddy. I won't move an inch,” she said in her best simpering tone.

“Good girl,” Dean groaned through gritted teeth as he released her hands. A step back separated them and he stripped himself of shirt and pants. Jo continued to watch over her shoulder, and when he stood in only his briefs, she spoke.

“I could help with those.”

A sharp slap rang through kitchen as Dean's hand connected with her bare ass, and Jo shrieked in shock. “You'll do as I say,” he stated as he returned to her, the bulge of his cock nestled between her cheeks. “I'll fuck you when I'm good and ready,” he continued as he dragged a finger between her sopping lips. “God damn, I love how wet you are. Spread those legs for me, sweetheart, I wanna see it.”

Jo did as he ordered, feet parted and hips rolled. “Oh, yeah, that's it,” he sighed, “Do you like presenting yourself to me? Offering up your dripping pussy for me to fuck? Is that your way of asking me to breed you?”

“Yes!” Jo cried, “Dammit, Dean, just do it already!”

Her thighs quivered beneath his touch as Dean grasped the meat of her ass and spread her. “Oh you are ready for me,” he cooed. “Ready for me to put a baby in you. God, I can't wait to see your belly grow,” he teased as he smoothed her flat stomach. “And I'll remind you how it happened.” One hand slipped into her hair and wrenched her head back, her ear to his lips once more. “I'll remind you how I put that baby there, how I fucked you like the dirty little girl you are and filled your cunt with my seed and impregnated you.”

By then, Jo could hardly stand on her own two feet. She had all but melted against the table, Dean supporting her grasping hands with one arm. Despite her weak legs and heaving shoulders, Jo spoke. “Yes, Dean, please, I want it. Put a baby in my belly. Fuck me like I'm your little slut.”

If he hadn't strung himself out so thoroughly, Dean might have punished her for that. But after all his talk and the way her body had responded, the ache in his balls and the engorged length of his cock demanded release. He barely bothered with his briefs beyond shoving them to his thighs and his cock fell free to land squarely between her cheeks. The convulsion of Jo’s entire body rattled Dean to his very core with a grunt.

He grasped the base of his cock and angled the tip to her cunt, dragged in her ample arousal. “You ready, darlin’?”

Jo nearly wept with want. “Yes, Daddy, please, fuck me,” she mewled as she leaned over the table, chest flush to its dark oak surface. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

A snarl escaped his gritted teeth as Dean forced himself to maintain control. He wanted nothing more than to slam his cock into her, bottom out and hear her scream his name, beg for more until she incoherently babbled. “You will, my dirty little girl,” he sighed as he continued to tease her pussy. “But I'm not done having fun with you yet.”

The first sign of her frustration rattled the table as Jo hammered her fist on the heavy wood. Dean found her bottom lip pinched between her teeth when he looked up to her, face pink and hair matted to her forehead with sweat. He dug deep for the stamina to hold out a little longer as he dropped to his knees, grasped her ass, and spread her wide for his tongue.

The smooth, bitter sluice of her arousal filled his mouth as Dean sealed his lips on hers and sucked her clean. With each lap, Jo writhed as she moaned, as she clawed at the table and begged for more. Fuck, he wanted her in the worst way, but he knew the longer he held out, the sweeter their end would be. “I love the way you taste, sweetheart. So fucking good,” he mumbled into her ass. “Can’t wait to taste my cum as it drips from your cunt. Do you want that? Want me to eat your pussy after I come in it?”

The howl that rent from Jo’s bitten lips startled them both. “God dammit, Dean, will you just fuck me?!” Her fist landed on the table again. “Shut up and put that baby in my belly already!”

He buried his face between her cheeks, tongue shoved as far as he could reach into her pussy. Another high cry of arousal rang from her open mouth as Jo reached back and grabbed a fistful of his hair. In earnest, Dean sucked her flesh, lips and tongue driving her arousal to its completion. When he felt her fingers reach for her clit, he grasped her wrist and wrenched it behind her back, much to her frustration. But the pure wanton whimper he extracted from her as his thumb circled that little bundle of nerves was worth every bit of her ire.

Within seconds of his attention, Jo unraveled in a mess of moans, curses, and shivering convulsions. Shocks of her orgasm flexed her cunt and Dean sighed his own heightened arousal into her. In the wake of her release, the desperation for his own flailed wildly out of control, driving him to his feet. “Was that what you wanted?” he asked as he angled his cock, so painful with engorgement, to her dripping cunt again. “You wanted to come on my face, huh?”

Through her heaving breaths, Jo spoke. “Yeah, but,” she paused with a thick swallow, “I want that big fat cock of yours in my pussy, now,” she finished with a wild buck of her hips.

So perfectly primed for him, Jo glided onto his cock so fast, the smack of their bodies as they met rang like a struck bell. Together they moaned, Jo sated at long last and Dean digging deep for restraint. Damn her and her perfect cunt. “Fuck me, sweetheart, you feel so damn good after all that.” He sighed. “How does that feel for you?”

“Amazing,” she breathed as she rolled her hips. “But you know what would feel better?”

Dean withdrew from her and nearly collapsed. He grasped her hips, nails biting into the meat of her flesh, and hunched over her back. “Damn, I wanna fuck you so bad, but I need a minute.” He sighed, frustrated. “I'm… God, I could come right now.”

Jo’s pleased hum damn near undid him then and there. “Take your time, babe, I'll… try to be patient,” she said with a little laugh. “Gonna cost you though.”

Slow strokes eased him up to a steady pace with smooth rolls of his hips. Before Jo, Dean had found sex to be relaxing, a relief from the terrifying reality he lived every day. And while he often mixed work and play, he only ever viewed that time away from the job as just that: a break. But then he had met her, and sex took on an entirely different meaning, gained a drastically different purpose for him. And no, it wasn’t some ridiculous notion of love. That he had in spades from her regardless of sex. But for once in his life he could be so brutally vulnerable with someone and not give a single shit about it. That had changed him in ways he had never fathomed possible.

“You’re thinking so loud, I can hear the gears working in your head,” Jo said with a buck of her hips.

Dean grunted as she bottomed out against his thighs. “Sorry,” he said under his breath and squeezed her hips. “I needed a minute. Didn't want this to end… prematurely,” he jested.

Another roll of her hips stroked his cock. “I dunno, Dean, I'm ready for whatever you've got left in the tank.”

“Really?” Dean groaned as he slipped into her, pelvis to ass. “A car reference?”

She shimmied her hips as she looked over her shoulder, coquettish enough for an old magazine he might have owned once upon a time. “You are though. Big, tough, dependable. Like a big ol' pickup. You sure know how to haul my ass around.”

Dean took a moment to admire her backside, that supple curve of her ass. He followed its smooth line to his cock wrapped in her pussy and coated in her creamy arousal. “I do, don't I?” he mused. With a snap of his hips, he buried himself in her, and Jo cried out a heavenly moan. “I've had a lot of practice the last few years,” he continued as he withdrew. “Been fucking this pussy for over a decade,” he said as he slammed into her again, and she choked back her moan. “Then again, you've been riding my dick for just as long. I think you might know me better,” he paused. “Like how you knew I'd find all this kinky, dirty talk so easy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jo started with a whimper, “I know my Daddy very well.”

His pace picked up as he continued to thrust. “Christ, sweetheart, you keep calling me that and I might have to do something about it,” he growled as he smoothed a hand up her spine.

Beats of his hips against her backside marked her moan as Jo arched her back at his touch. “Yeah, Daddy? What are you gonna do to me?”

He thrust harder, their bodies slapping against one another and he felt the subtle flex of her cunt around his cock. “Teach you a lesson,” he growled as his hand slipped into her hair at the nape of her neck. With a rough jerk, he hauled her up to his chest and wrapped his other arm over her hip. “Fuck you silly and empty my load in you.”

Her hands mirrored his, one in his hair and the other grasping the back of his arm. “Fuck me, Daddy,” she mewled. “Fuck my pussy raw and gimme that baby.”

An almighty roar burst from his chest as Dean wrapped his fingers around her throat and pounded his cock into her. After such relentless teasing, he could pump into her flesh for hours, and a part of him wanted to, wanted to rail against her ass for a long as she would let him. He had half a mind to do it. But when Jo gasped and her breath caught in her throat, he knew what followed.

The first subtle sensation quivered in her thighs, the signs of her release hot on its heels. Relentlessly, Dean thrust into her, harder and faster as she found her voice, the long keening moan sung through his grasp of her throat. “Yeah, Jo, come for me. Come all over my cock, I want to feel you come on me,” he urged. “C'mon, honey, be Daddy's dirty little girl and come for me.”

“Yes, fuck, Dean, harder, fuck my pussy!” Jo begged. “Make me come, Daddy!”

Between her thighs, Dean plunged his hand, fingertips searching for and finding her clit. Furious circles rubbed as he thrust as fast as he could, delirious with his impending release. He split at the seams, unraveled as she had earlier, and his climax slammed into him harder than a speeding train.

No preamble, no hint, no warning could have prepared them. Jo cried out a strangled moan, short and incomplete as she clenched around him with the sudden onslaught of his own release. “Shit, Jo, I'm gonna come,” he growled, “I'm gonna come inside you and fill you up and breed you.”

“Yes, give it to me, Dean,” she whined in time with the smack of his hips against her ass. “Fuck my pussy, I wanna feel you come.”

There was no resisting her demands. Even if he had wanted to, Dean couldn't hold back any longer. Each flex of her cunt echoed in a hard throb of his cock, the heat between his thighs spreading like wildfire through his entire body as his orgasm surged. That first long, hard twitch filled her with a load the likes of which he hadn’t felt in decades. 

His thrusts stuttered wildly with each throb that followed, encouraged by the aftershocks of Jo's climax. The pale mixture of his seed and her cum spread to her thighs as she writhed against him in the wake of their climax, riding out that euphoric wave until she slumped in his arms.

Dean released her throat and withdrew his hand from her core. With his free hand, he stripped his underwear to the floor, then kicked them up for him to catch. “Here,” he said as he handed them to Jo, and she took them without question.

“Thanks,” she whispered, voice hoarse and dry. She shoved the bundle of fabric between her thighs, ready and waiting.

A steady breath steeled himself before he withdrew from her, half-flaccid cock falling free and dripping with their fluids. In a moment of panic, he searched the floor for his undershirt, found it, and snatched it up to clean himself. Once satisfied, he discarded the ruined cloth on the floor, then turned to Jo and scooped her up in his arms.

She laughed a soft hum through her nose, all sorts of delight dancing across her face. “That was kinda fun,” she teased.

Dean headed for the stairs and laughed his deep baritone. “I wouldn't get too used to it,” he said as he ascended the first steps. “I think I need about an hour in the tub with you after that.”

Deft fingers carded through his hair at the back of his head as Jo grinned. “That sounds wonderful,” she sighed. “I could use a long soak after that workout.”

“Good,” Dean said, her smile mirrored on his lips as he topped the stairs and turned for their bedroom. There he carried Jo into their bathroom, a wide space with a tub big enough for the both of them. He set her on her feet, then started the water.

Jo sat on the tiled ledge of the tub as she grabbed the bag of Epsom salt and poured a handful into it. “I'm kinda surprised where your mind went with all that vulgarity,” she mused.

Dean's cheeks stung as he wrapped his arms around her. “I know, I… I just used whatever came to me in the moment, I’m sorry,” he explained as he squeezed her closer. “I feel a little dirty. Kinda gross. That’s why…” he trailed off once more as he pointed at the bath.

Bless her heart. Jo eased his worries with nothing but her soft smile. “I loved it,” she said. “Everything you said was perfect. It was hot and sexy and dirty all at once.”

“Yeah but…” his voice broke, trailed off into the distance. Dean frowned as he search for the right words. “I wanna treat you the best way I can, be the best man for you. And that… something about it doesn’t feel right.”

A delicate step carried Jo into the tub where she sat, the water barely covering her ankles. “You know what, that’s fine. You don’t have to like it. And we never have to do it again. But I appreciate that you tried it once for me.”

Relief washed over him, tension seeping from his shoulders. “You’re awesome, you know that?” he said as he stepped into the tub beside her. As it filled, he slid beside her and wrapped her in his arms once more. “Like, the best woman I’ve ever met.” He thought a moment before remembering with stark clarity some of the things he had said earlier. “Ugh, I called you a ‘little girl’. How did I let myself say that?”

“That surprised me,” she said with a bright laugh. “Didn’t really know how you’d feel about all that 'Daddy’ kinkiness.”

Despite his concerns, Dean laughed with her. “I may have enjoyed that too much. Ugh, still, 'little girl’ skeeves me out.”

“That’s what this is for,” Jo said with a shimmy of her hips. “Aftercare is important. And there’s nothing better than an honest conversation after a bunch of vulgarity, debasement, and depravity,” she said with a giggle.

While eased by the sentiment, Dean’s mind wandered. So many other things he said had crawled under his skin, words he never thought he’d hear on his lips. And though he had not meant any of them, he couldn't help but wonder if they came from a place of truth, buried deep within his heart.

“You’re thinking really loudly again,” Jo teased.

The words slipped from his mouth before he thought to say them. “I want to have a kid.”

Time stood still as though balanced on the head of a pin, precarious but for the hand holding it. Dean's gaze drifted to the blue water as it swirled about his knees, content for Jo to ignore him in his moment of weakness.

He had never felt hands more delicate than hers. No, delicate did her no justice. Jo knew him. Knew him better than just about anyone aside from Sam and Castiel. Her touch revitalized him and soothed him, made him feel twenty-seven all over again. She turned his head down to hers where he found her sweet smile, and she spoke.

“You'd make an excellent father.”

Father. That word, that title weighed heaviest of them all on his weary shoulders. And yet the appeal remained. “I’d know all the things not to do at least,” he started with a laugh of his own. “And I’ve got you. You’d kick it in the ass, Jo. Mom or dad, you’d put 'em all to shame.”

“Think so?” she asked.

Dean cupped her cheek as he placed his lips on hers for long, lazy kiss. His worry abated and his fear quelled with her touch, her lips and tongue and breath all working together for that ephemeral moment of peace. When she parted from him, her eyes rolled open to stare into his and compelled him to speak.

“Without a doubt in my heart.”

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Dean’s Dames (Jensen):

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[brooklynislandgirl]

Succubus: What’s one thing you can’t live without?

There is a blur of purple as both sabre and Master break form from the basic technique she was teaching.The heat and light of the focused plasma beam stops just millimetres from Rey’s face, and something animalistic washes over her even before Rey’s question has died on the girl’s lips. There is a pure cold-burning rage that Melakeni doesn’t try to mask before whipping the blade away and pressing the button on the hilt. She turns crisply on bare feet and stalks across the carefully cultivated grass where woman and girl were practising combat styles, and Keni withdraws into the shadows of the open door way. Once there, she stops. Turns around. Stalks back toward Rey and taking a stick-thin arm in fingers more like iron vines, drags her toward the house, unwilling or not.Into her most private sanctum.Stops only in front of a carved wooden shelf. An aura, dark and restive and faintly disturbing to anyone with even a passing familiarity of the Force, radiates from the items contained there. The hand that doesn’t have a death-grip on Rey hovers along certain edges and angles, and the soul-deep anger now mixes with a grief so palpable that it was a wonder the sun of Zelos II didn’t burn out because of it.“He. Was not. A. Thing.”

She lets go and tucks her hands inside of the sleeves of her voluminous robes. Lets the hood hide her face but the very astute and quick might have caught the emotion written in the lines, making her look…older. Defeated. Threadbare.

Sinking down until she’s closer to eye-level, she breathes out a heavy sigh from aching lungs.“They had many names for him. Many uses. They treated him like a weapon, a tool. They treated him like he was trash beneath their feet, something to be disdained and discarded at a moment’s convenience. Did you know… he was born a slave. Raised on a desert hell planet, he was almost your age when he was found by a Master and… imagine… They used the money he earned in a pod-race that nearly cost him his life…to buy him from his owner. They bought him…but they never freed him. “They used every fear he had, every loss he suffered as a means to control him, to use him as they saw fit, like some rabid creature on a very tight leash. The scars they put on him were not all bone and flesh. The madness in his later years was seeded in him from the first. All because one of them…a very long time ago…had a vision and spoke of one who would be Chosen by the Force, and we all knew that he was the one foretold. “They never really let him be a boy. He was trained twice as hard as any of us, taken on dangerous missions before he was fully ready because he… You and I…we feel the Force as it flows through us, around us, connects us to every living thing in the galaxy. But it was different…he was different in it. I don’t think…I could ever properly explain it, if you’d never felt his presence. It was at once glorious and terrifying and delicately balanced between the two most of the time. And maybe…maybe what made him different was… that he was the most compassionate soul I have ever met. He cared about….everything. Droid, clone, every sentient, every plant…”Her narrow shoulders rise and fall in the slightest of shrugs, her eyes closing and her mouth parted. The agony that sweeps through her is palpable. “During the war…they called him the Hero with no fear. But that….that wasn’t exactly right, either. During those dark days we tried so hard to stay connected and I know how much it hurt him to cause pain, to cause suffering. Having to see with his own eyes as the ideals of the Republic came crumbling down around him. To have everything he sacrificed for spat on, taken away from him, downplayed because he was the one who did what no one else could. “If they had let him…we would have left quietly. He had a wealth of rage inside, that’s true, but do… Do you know what rage is? It is fear and grief and suffering that is trapped inside, suffocating and compressing in the darkest of places. It is like magma beneath a planet’s surface. Roiling so intensely but only dangerous when it comes bursting up in a river of fire and smoke and heat, when it has no other outlet. And I need you to know…I am not saying he was perfect. Far from it. He was as human as you and ….well, as you. And I was his best friend and I loved him with every fibre of my being, and I know he had his faults and flaws, but I also know he always tried to do what he thought was right, no matter what the consequences were.”She takes a shaky breath and a sound comes out of her that could have been a laugh if it weren’t laced with unfathomable emotions. She rises from her crouch and comes closer still to the shelf. Delicate fingertips run along the hilt of the now antique lightsabre on the second shelf. Behind her eyelids she alone can see the memories. Same with a fragment of his robes that she’d kept for longer than she wished to acknowledge. The droid bit she still doesn’t know where it went or really what it was, but knows the smile that had been born of it. And lastly, she reaches for a small black box with no markings. Takes it down and opens it, a bit of light spilling onto her features as she finally peers into it. When she takes out the item from within, she treats it like a holy relic.Its flickering light catches on the braided bracelet encircling her wrist.“This was…the last time we…we were happy and uncomplicated. He loved this place. The quiet and the green and the fact that he had nothing to prove, nothing weighing down on him. He could simply be.”She turned the holo-image so that Rey could seeKeni looked much different. Still herself, but younger. More vibrant. Alive and full of joy, and the young man next to her was certainly handsome. Tall and strong and golden-haired. Arms wrapped around her waist, smiling down at her as she looked up at him in adoration. They were laughing even as he leaned down and buried his face in the crook of her neck. The words she said to him lost in time, but that echo through it still.“Many years ago…longer than I care to count… You might, in some circles, hear stories about how he…destroyed the Jedi to a whole. But even full in the Dark Side’s embrace… he allowed his master and mine to escape. He spared his senator. He risked life and limb and destruction to see that I was at his side. That they did not find Eigh…Luka. That Tazu and Rusk saved some of the children under my care. He destroyed a record with the name and coordinates of every Force-sensitive child in the galaxy at the time, some barely born, most not a full standard year. So that no one could find them all, use them. He treated the clones under his command as men deserving of dignity and respect. He worked tirelessly in his own fashion to make the galaxy a ordered, peaceful place, the Emperor’s orders be damned, and Palpatine? Feared him, just as the Council did…because he knew… That he couldn’t control and manipulate Anakin any more.”

She put the holo-image back into its box. That is perhaps when it became evident that her bracelet…was made of leather and human hair. A padawan braid.

“I could have kept him alive you know. I could have used the Force to heal his wounds, to make him as close to whole as possible. But in the end, I think… I think he was exhausted, beyond measure. Murdered in spirit by the turbulent life he led more than the damage to his mind and body. He would have stayed with me, if I had but begged. I would have died with him if he would have let me.”And in all but the biological sense, she had, turned to ash and salt and sand on his pyre.She swallowed and her voice became less than a whisper.“The most important lesson you will learn, little Rey, is that even the mightiest stars burn out.”