#and pain like that shapes a person. without it james would be different to
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Violets for Roses (Part 2)
Part 1:- The Other Woman
Paring:- Remus Lupin x reader, James Potter x reader (formerly).
Trigger warnings:- Cheating/Infidelity, Divorce, kind of villianising Jilly but I love them with all my heart.
Angst/Fluff (Kinda). 5194 words. Longest piece I have ever written. Idk how to feel about this one. Let me know your feedback in the comments. They are really motivating.
Also, if you have any fic ideas, please let me know. I would love to give your ideas a proper shape.
A/N:- Sorry for the delay, I planned on posting part 2 right after the poll ended but I got busy with my college work (I'm starting my 3rd year in law school so my schedule is packed). Anyways, now that I have finally posted, I hope you enjoy this one-shot.<3
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Play the above song for better reading experience<3
3rd Person POV
"No! I chose him before." She shouted at her twin, clutching the stuffed bunny tighter in her embrace.
"But I want it!" Lily whined throwing a tantrum.
"No! I won't give it, you didn't want it a minute ago." She protested.
"But I want it now!"
A bitter smile formed on her lips when the memory of their 10th birthday danced in her mind.
Her parents had brought them two stuffed bunnies, one pink and the other one yellow.
Lily had chosen the pink one and Y/N was happy with the yellow one but after a few days when Lily was bored of her toy, she wanted the other bunny, which Y/N had grown fond of. Despite her protests Lily had taken away the bunny that belonged to her.
A simple and silly memory but it held so much significance over the situation both the sisters were in again.
She was still laying on bed, facing the wall without a wink of sleep in her eyes.
All the tears she had formed and preserved in her eyes for the past 5 years of being with James, flowed freely tonight.
Now, she neither had any tears or any energy to spare.
She could see the light of the dawn seeping through the window. She got up from the bed. Her head was pounding and her eyes felt like fire so she decided to get a relaxing shower and headed straight to the bathroom.
When she looked into the mirror, she could barely recognise herself, she saw an exhausted and frail woman with dark circles and chapped lips.
She felt a ball of pain in her throat but her eyes were bone-dry. She had seemed to lose the ability to cry.
She tried to ignore the figure staring back at her from the mirror and started tending herself.
First she took a nice hot shower to fend off the exhaustion from her body. Then she put several potions and creams to make herself look presentable. She applied a potion to give her face a natural glow, a cream that instantly vanishes dark circles and so many more.
After half an hour, she was once again in her old, perfect form. Fiery, red curls complimented her face-cut, her cheeks looked like plump strawberries and lips appeared like soft rose petals, body clad in a beautiful white cardigan and pair of na y blue jeans but there was something off about her appearance. Her emerald eyes lacked the shine they once had. It seemed as if the rivers of sorrow that flowed through them last night took the bright sunshine from them, leaving a gloomy shadow over them.
She climbed down the stairs and glanced at the grandfather clock in the living room. It was 6 in the morning. It was Sunday so James wouldn't wake up before 9 or 10 so she decided to delay the breakfast and go look after her floral garden.
Flowers have always been her favourite creation by mother nature. They were sweet and beautiful, they were like her. She had what many of her friends called a green hand. Whichever plant she potted would grow up to be lush and healthy. She had used this talent to grow a beautiful garden in the backyard of the Potter Manor.
Her garden was now beaming with different colours of roses. But she didn't like roses, they were overly sweet smelling for her. She prepared different colours of bright violets. They were her favourite flowers but James insisted upon planting roses and she did what he asked her to without any questions. It didn't even click her back then, that roses were Lily's favourite.
Shaking her head, she got busy with her gardening but her mind kept on running a series of thoughts. She couldn't decide if she should confront James or if she should act like living in her bubble.
She started contemplating the possible outcomes from both the situations.
If she confronted James, there were two possible outcomes she could expect. First, James would feel guilty and decide to get separated from each other. Second, he would get defensive, and somehow manage to make her believe that she is the one wrong in the situation.
They had been in a similar situation when she has asked him about his past feelings for Lily in their seventh year.
They were in the Gryffindor common room, cuddling by the fireplace. The question had been bugging her for months and she knew she had to ask him or else it'll eat her form inside. It was simple question really,
"Do you still have feelings for Lily?"
To which he had replied in a very aggrevated tone,
"No! Whatever gave you that idea? I did fancy her at one point but now it's only you, y/n/n. No one take your place, it actually hurts me that you still don't trust me."
The next half an hour she had spent trying to convince him that she loved him and trusted him more than herself.
She knew she couldn't confront him. The thought of separating from James made her feel weird and sick in her stomach.
She knew it would be liberating, getting free from a bond that just takes from her and gives her nothing back but she didn't want liberation, she wanted to be imprisoned in his love, she wanted to be her Jamie's prisoner.
But she knew if she kept her feelings within her and act as if nothing's wrong, those jarred emotions will slowly kill her. They will suffocate her until she forgets how to breath.
She knew that if she chose to act as if nothing happened, life would become a living hell where she will degrade herself and stay with the rotting corpse of her dignity but she would get to keep James, even if she wouldn't have him all but at the end of the day, she will be associated with him as his wife and she will carry his name with her in the society.
She had to make a choice. A choice between suffocation and liberation. She was in a dilema but deep within she knew she would choose suffocation.
She was pulled back from her thoughts when she heard the loud crack of apparating that came from the front yard.
Upon reaching the front door, she saw the bright smiling face of her husband's bestfriend, Sirius Black.
"Hey Y/n/n. Sorry for not wishing you yesterday but I gave my wishes to James and told him to give them to you." Sirius explained whilst hugging her.
She had always been fond of Sirius, he was a living ray of sunshine, always bringing happiness with him. He always managed to make her laugh or atleast bring a smile on face. Today was no different. Even in a gloomy state of mind, he managed to make her smile a little.
"So what's in the menu?" Sirius asked plopping down on the couch.
It had become a tradition now. Sirius, James and her always had breakfast together every Sunday. She liked it, she liked to see her husband carefree and cheerful, joking around with his bestfriend. She always prepared a large buffet of breakfast for the three but with all that happened last night, she had forgotten about today.
"You tell me, I haven't started cooking yet." I respond from the kitchen.
"Hey, you know, let's just stall it for now, let James wake up and let him decide, yeah. Now come here and talk to me." Sirius suggested.
She knew he had noticed that something was wrong. Sirius never really asked her to sit down with him and have a talk. Their relationship was casual, she wasn't really a friend to him, she was his bestfriend's wife. Their relationship dynamics was as it was supposed to be so his suggestion took her by suprise.
"What do you wanna talk about?" She questioned him, eyeing his demeanor.
"Well, I don't know, how was last night, how did you guys celebrate." He asked her carefully.
"There wasn't much left to celebrate as he was he was already drunk when he came home, stop pretending as if you know nothing about it." She let out a bit of her anger and frustration.
"I wasn't with him yesterday, I was with Moony....." Sirius seemed a bit surprised at first but then trailed off mid-sentence.
She would be lying if she said that she wasn't shocked to know that James wasn't with Sirius but then the realisation dawned upon her. He was with Lily last night, the night of their wedding anniversary.
There was a moment of deafening silence when she finally spoke.
"You know about her, don't you?"
Sirius gulped and replied,
"Who are you talking about?"
"Stop pretending Sirius, I know he's having an affair with Lily. He...... He took he-her name in bed last night." She croaked with a heavy voice, tears threatening spill.
Sirius was flabbergasted. He couldn't understand how to reply to that. He just sat there, his head hung low, unable to look into her eyes.
"Back in 6th year, when you made him ask me out, you knew he hadn't moved on from her." She questioned Sirius.
He didn't say anything and just shook his head in yes.
"And yet you let him be in another relationship. Why did you do that Sirius?"
Sirius lifted up his head and she could clearly see the guilt and regret in his eyes.
"I'll not hide anything from you and be honest. Y/N, we thought that you'll be a nice distraction for him and also serve as a jealousy-inducing factor for Lily." Sirius explained.
"But then, when she stood her stance, James thought you'll be the best replacement, so he proposed you." He continued with a quivering voice.
She couldn't do anything but take a long, shuddering breath. She waited for him to continue. To defend himself but as if reading her mind, he said,
"Y/N, I won't defend myself or justify my actions. I won't say that we weren't in our right minds because we knew what we were doing, I knew what I was doing. I could've stopped it, I could've stopped it all. I could've stopped him right there when he suggested you as a rebound, I could've stopped him from proposing you, I could've stopped him from marrying you and ruining your life but I didn't. A part of me thinks because I feel indebted to James. If it weren't for him and his parents, I don't even know if I would be alive, I owe him my life Y/N. But now, I realise that as a friend, I should've stopped him from doing such a big mistake." Sirius poured his heart out, his voice and eyes wet with tears.
There was a heavy silence between them. She didn't know what say. All of this was becoming hard for her to process. She felt the weight of the universe on her chest. Suddenly, Sirius broke the silence.
"I did stop him once, I asked him not to get with Lily behind your back once I got to know about it. He had told me about it after he had spent a night with her. When he insisted that he was still in love with Lily but couldn't just leave you now that both of your families were involved, so he had decided to go behind your back. Trust me Y/N, I wanted to slap some sense into him but then that feeling of indebtedness came upon me and I did what I had done since I was 11, I agreed with him and supported him."
"Y/N, I won't ask for your forgiveness because I don't deserve it but I want you to know that I feel guilty and I know that I am your criminal and I will forever be sorry to you." Sirius apologized.
"James tells you everything, doesn't he?" She questioned and he nodded his head.
"When and how did all of this start?"
Sirius just stared at her for a moment but then looked away from her and started speaking.
"When the two of you got married, Lily understood that she wanted James. So, she confessed to him about her feelings but James denied her because he really wanted to give you a chance. But now Lily was adamant, so she would try and woe James, using his past feelings against him. She would make suggestive comments, pay extra attention to him during family gatherings, visit him in the ministry and what not. James tried to avoid her until one day he caved in and the both slept together for the first time."
She felt like the world around her was collapsing and she couldn't help but sit in the middle of the apocalypse and watch.
After a few minutes Sirius got up and gathered his jacket, ready to leave.
"Sirius please, at least have breakfast." She pleaded.
"It's ok Y/N. I don't think I can eat or look James or you in the eyes." Sirius reasoned.
"Can I trust you that you won't mention this conversation to James." She inquired.
Sirius smiled a little and said,
"Yes you can, I'm a trustworthy dog."
This made her smile too. She went up to the door to see him off. Before leaving he turned around and said something that would keep her awake for several coming nights.
"I'm sorry Y/N. I should've just let Moony ask you out."
"What do you mean?" She asked with furrowed brows.
"Remus, he liked you, he was too shy to say it out loud, I almost convinced him to ask you out but then you started dating James so he kept quite." Sirius revealed the truth to her.
Those words wreaked havoc inside her. Weirdly enough, It made her stomach flutter. Why did she feel heat on the back of her neck?
"So you helped James to ask me out but also almost convinced Remus to ask me out. What was going in your head Sirius?" She questioned him, frustration laced in her voice.
"I helped James because I felt obliged to do so as a best friend, but I genuinely wanted Remus to date you because I knew he would have really kept you happy." Sirius explained.
"James and him had a huge fight before your wedding. Moony accused him of using you as a replacement and James asked him not to come to the wedding if it bothered him so much." He continued.
"Y/n/n, let go of James. I know it will be difficult for you but staying with James will slowly but surely kill you. Give Moony a chance, he'll show you what real happiness is." Sirius said in a serious voice.
"What if he has moved on?" She voiced her concern.
"He hasn't Y/n/n, I know he hasn't.
With that Sirius apparated with a flick of his wand.
There once again was a storm brewing in her but this time the storm promised to bring enough rain to quench the parched land suffering from drought.
Did Remus really like her? Did the guy who she had a crush on since 3rd year really liked her back.
It was true. She had always been fond of Remus. She even tried dropping hints at him for three consecutive years but when he didn't respond to any, she moved on. But there still was a fragment of her huge crush, hidden in deep, dark corners of her heart.
It seemed like today Sirius had illuminated that corner.
"Who was it?" James' groggy voice brought her back to reality.
"Sirius, he remembered some work so hel left." She lied to James avoiding eye contact.
"Huh, that's unusual but then again it's Padfoot so nothing's really unusual." James chucked.
It pinched her how James is just acting as if nothing drastic happened last night. He probably doesn't even remember what happened last night.
His presence, his voice, his existence was making it difficult to forget about last night.
All she could remember was how he moaned her name. She also remembered how he let her touch him last night. Only that the gesture wasn't meant for her, it was meant for Lily. It crushed her soul knowing that her husband forbade her from touching him while intercourse but let her sister touch him, provide her with the intimacy which belonged to her.
However, she decided to go with the flow as she was unable to fanthom the gravity of the situation she was thrown into overnight.
This haze went on for two weeks. Their anniversary was on 12th of January, today was 28th.
These two weeks were life-changing for her. She slowly kept loosing all the affection she held for James.
They say that it's easy fall in love but difficult to get out of it but she didn't feel the same.
Yes she fell for James easily but getting out of it didn't seem difficult. It hurt no doubt but slowly she had almost lost all the love and adoration she had for James. Now, she had nothing for him. She didn't hate him or dispise him but she didn't love him either. She had become numb towards him.
She shared her feelings with Sirius, who almost regularly visited her. They had grown quite close and she cherished this new-found friendship.
When she told him about her indifference towards James, he had remained quiet for a while and then asked her a question.
"What made you fall for him?"
She was taken by surprise because she didn't' know what made her fall for her husband.
After thinking about it the whole night she had come to the conclusion that she fell for James because of the extravagant efforts he would put into pleasing Lily and show his love for her. That's when she noticed him, and unbeknownst to her, she fell in love with the man who would go to any extent to show his love for his women. She craved that kind of love and when James asked her out, she saw a little ray of hope that she might get her portion of unconditional love from James.
When she didn't get that kind of affection from James, her mind created a bubble of false comfort that James loved her just like she wanted him to as a coping mechanism. This bubble was the reason she showered him with wholehearted affection and zeal because she thought he did so as well.
But since her bubble had burst, she knew James didn't really love her, so automatically her love for him diminished too.
Ever since she had accepted the fact that she was out of love with James, the world around her changed. She changed. The colours become brighter and she became more beautiful. She started caring for herself, cooking dishes that she liked and not just what James did. She started getting ready and dressed up, not for impressing James but because she wanted to.
It was as if she the moment she fell out of love with him, she fell back in love with herself.
She suddenly didn't feel like suffocating in her big house, she felt that there was a crack in her cage, letting in some fresh air. She would imagine her self roaming the streets of Hogsmeade, people around her happy and satisfied with their lives, a never-ending spring that brings nothing but joy.
Though, often while thinking of the outside world, she would see a man peering at her from the corners of the streets. A tall man with tawny hair and scarred face.
He had constantly been in her thoughts ever since Sirius told her about his liking for her. She had let go of any feelings she had for Remus back in Hogwarts, and now, somewhere it felt illegal to think about him. Whatever the situation is, that doesn't change the fact that he was still her husband's very close friend, though their contacts were limited.
But whenever she would allow herself to sway a little, she would remember the times they spent hours in the library, studying, chatting and giggling, how Remus would sneak her out of the castle to go to the Honeydukes sweet shop.
These memories would make her open to a possibility where they could do all of this again but with a little more intimacy.
There still were a million thoughts in her head but they didn't weigh her down.
She was lost in her thoughts, doing some household chores when the doorbell rang. She wasn't expecting anyone, 10 o'clock on a Monday morning.
When she opened the door, her eyes met with a pair of amber ones. Those eyes held a large amount of hope in them.
"Remus?" That was all she could whispered with a hollow voice.
"Hey dove, can I come in?" Remus greeted her with his usual charming smile.
Dove. That was the nickname Remus used for her all the time. Early on it use to be endearing but today, it made her stomach flutter, the same way it would when James called her 'love'.
"Yeah sure, come in." She let him in the house, taking him to the living room.
"What will you have, tea or coffee?" She asked him politely.
"You know neither right, I always prefer hot chocolate over the two." He smiled at her.
A big smile took its place on her lips too. He hadn't changed one bit.
She prepared two hot cups of cocoa and sit sat on the sofa chair in front of him.
"So, what took you two years to come visit me?" She taunted him slightly.
"I had my reasons and I guess you know them." Remus answered looking in her eyes.
"I'll cut to the chase y/n/n, Sirius told me about your unhappy marriage and I know what I am about to do is wrong and as a friend to James I shouldn't do it but as your bestfriend I have to. Dove, leave him." Remus said all of this in one single breath.
She kept quite as she knew he wasn't quite done yet.
"Y/n, I have...... I have loved you for years. Dove I wanted to ask you-."
"I know Rem, I know everything." She smiled at him softly.
"You do?" Remus was taken aback. He never told about his feelings to anyone except......
"Sirius played matchmaker again but this time with the right person." She explained.
She was in a constant war with herself on Remus's topic for the past two weeks but seeing him today ended the war in the favour of eternity with Remus.
"Rem, I think I wanna breath again, I wanna be free. I wanna be yours. I wanna be with you." She confessed.
She could see the happiness flooding his eyes and before she knew it, she was in his tight embrace. His hug felt like fire on a cold winter evening. She wanted to melt into him and be their forever.
"Wait a second." She went upstairs to get something.
She came back with a big envelope in her hand. Remus could see the shiny ministry logo on it. It was a legal document. He had his guesses as to what it could be.
"This is my gift for Lily. It's our birthday in a few days and I'm gonna gift her my husband." She stated.
"Dove, do you mind me asking what lead you to realise he was the wrong person for you. I mean, didn't you guys celebrate your wedding anniversary a few days ago." Remus asked.
"Yeah we did. That very night, he said her name when he was in bed with me."
Her words weren't explicit but Remus understood what she meant.
"Dove...." Remus whispered sympaticaly.
"Don't be sympathetic Rem, I'm actually glad this happened early on in our marriage and not late into it. James and I never belonged together, he belongs with Lily and I am the only obstacle in between them. Soon, I'll clear their path." She had confidence in her voice.
"Remus, I want you there, during my birthday." She insisted.
"Ofcourse." He replied sincerely.
After a few minutes of chatting, Remus left with a sweet kiss on her forehead.
She could still feel his lips lingering on her. It felt good.
The rest two days, she spent organising a small party with only their close friends.
The day before her birthday, James had an 'important work' out of town and had to stay there overnight. She knew what important work he had. He wanted to be there with Lily at the midnight to be the first one to wish her.
She didn't mind though because of her numbness toward James. She didn't even insist him to stay.
As promised, James had returned in the evening for her party. He entered with Lily by her side.
"Look who I brought." He had said enthusiastically.
The party wasn't a wild one but everyone who came enjoyed.
She had only invited close friends, whom she imagined knew about James and Lily. There were the Marauders, Frank and Alice, Marlene, Dorcas and Mary.
The party went on for a long time and after cutting the cake, everyone started giving out presents. At the last, only the birthday girls had to give each other their presents.
Lily had bought her a beautiful heart shaped locket which smelled like her favourite colone.
It was now her turn to give Lily her gift.
So y/n/n what did you get me?" Lily asked her.
She looked at Lily, then James and then towards Remus. He smiled at her and gave her a nod.
"Just a second." She replied and went upstairs in her bedroom.
When she returned, she had a big envelope in her hamds. With thudding heartbeats, she approached her twin. She handed over the envelope to Lily and whispered,
"Happy Birthday Lils."
Lily smiled at her and started opening her gift.
She held her breath with anticipation and waited for Lily to read the papers.
When Lily looked up, she had tears in her eyes.
"Y/n/n, why would you do this." She whispered with a teary voice.
Maybe it's the twin thing or maybe it's her old habit of crying if a person in front of her cries but she could feel tears prick in her eyes.
She took a long breath and spoke,
"It's for the best Lily, I wanna be free, I want to be able to breathe again." She explained.
The atmosphere of the room had suddenly changed, James had gotten worried seeing both sisters cry.
"What is it Lily, what are the papers about?"
James enquired.
"They're our divorce papers James. I'm leaving you so that you both don't have to sneak behind my back anymore. You two can now be together without me coming in between." She said, trying to control her crying voice.
"WHAT?! Have you lost your mind Y/n, what are you talking about, who provoked you? James yelled, side-eyeing Remus.
"Nobody provoked me James, it's just something that happened that cleared my doubts." She explained in a calm tone.
"What happened?" James demanded.
"You wouldn't want me to say this in front of your friends."
No I want you to tell me the reason, I don't care if it's in front of my friends, you've already created a scene, what's the worst that could happen."
"Fine, you want the reason, so here's the reason. On the night of our anniversary, you moaned my sister's name in my ear while making love to me." She stated sternly.
James didn't say anything and just hung his head low. He doesn't remember anything of such sort but he knows that he must've done it.
"James, I don't hate you for this, I could never hate you, it's just that I don't love you anymore. So staying with you will be a waste of time and energy for both of us. Lily, I don't have any hard feelings for both of you either. You'll always remain my favourite sister and that's why I want to see you happy. I know you'll be happy with James."
"What about mom and dad and what about Fleamont and Euphemia, they'll be heartbroken." Lily sniffled.
"Should've thought about that before cheating on your sister Lily." She sighed.
"Tell them it was my fault, that I didn't want to stay with you anymore. I've signed the papers and given my testimony to the ministry officer. You'll have to do the same and the procedure will be over." She addressed James.
"Can't we work this out?" He asked her sincerely, not meeting her eyes.
"We don't need to James, I'm not mad at you. James, we both are two different people. I didn't realise this earlier because I didn't wanted to. I really wanted you to love me the same way you love her. But you traded my violets for her roses. You wanted y/n to be Lily. The things that you love are the things I hate. It's simple James, I'm choosing this life. I'm choosing myself."
With that being said, she got up, went upstairs to get her already packed suitcase and left the Potter Manor once and for all. She apparated straight to Remus's house.
Remus followed her shortly but before leaving he had to say what he wanted to say for the past five years. Remus looked into James' eyes and said,
"I can keep her happier than you ever did and I will. No hard feelings mate."
With that he apparated back to his house as well.
When they finnally sat down on Remus's couch, she looked at him.
He had nothing but pure adoration for her in his eyes.
"Can I kiss you dove?" He whispered quietly.
She didn't say anything but leaned into him. Their lips fit each other like puzzle pieces and the bliss she experienced was like never before.
At that moment, Remus did make her happier than James ever did.
One Year Later
There's something in the air of Hogsmeade. It felt fresh and sweet. Maybe it's the first summer breeze. Summer was her favourite season.
She didn't want this sweetness to change, she wanted it be real, she wanted it to be beginning of something happening.
"You ready dove?" Remus's sweet voice came from behind her.
"Yes" She replied taking in a deep breath.
They both held eachother's hands and apparated to the same barn where she married James.
The wheat field shone like gold under the sunlight.
"The camera's all set, let's do it." She excitedly.
They both sat down on the ground, the sun shining over them and looked deep into each other eyes.
Y/n then thought to herself that she won't be all alone, she'll always have her Rem by her side.
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Gun, Goo, James Lee cockwarming their s/o hc? <3 [WINK_WONK]
warning — reader has female anatomy, fem pet names, cockwarming, enemies to lovers (kinda lol) for gun portion, established relationship with goo portion, assistant/boss relationship with james lee part, profanity, low-key kept it short just to tease y'all. dedicated to the hottest babe ever @plopifuee
❪ ♡ ❫ ─── GUN
YOUR EYES ALWAYS ROLLED WHEN HE ENTERED THE ROOM. You envied him. Maybe it was the way when he walked into the room, he demanded everyone's attention without saying a word. Or the way he carried himself that had you hating his guts on some days. Nope, it was when he purposely pestered you until you cursed him out or forced your middle finger at him. He was a huge pain in your ass when he had the moment.
You always took note of the cliche (and toxic) saying of 'people always mean to the people they like'. However, you brush that under the rug with a quickness because who would be mean to a person they suppose to care about. Days went on and the two of you bickered as if you were a married couple in a different timezone. Which only led to the sexual tension slowly being put to the test. You just didn't expect to be bent over his desk, Korean won bills splattered across the desk sticking to your bare sweaty skin. Your moans were like music to Gun's ears. Perking up like an obedient dog with each thrust forward that causes his name to yelp out your pretty mouth. The feeling of him bottoming down his full weight on the plumpness of your ass to feel closer to your body until the sound of his cellphone could be heard. "It can wait." You uttered.
But he ignored you, answering the ever so important phone call and stopping his abrasive thrusts. You let out an annoyed sigh as his cock was still inside you as he was talking. The anticipation of him continuing to push you further towards your orgasm could be felt as his thumb was tracing small shapes upon your back.
You definitely had to get him back for this.
❪ ♡ ❫ ─── GOO
GOO AND YOUR RELATIONSHIP COULD BE DESCRIBED DIFFERENTLY, DEPENDING ON WHO YOU ASK. You ask Gun and he'll roll his eyes muttering about how if he witnesses the two of you being lovey-dovey, he'll throw bleach in his own eyes. You two were insufferable, attached to the hip when he wasn't out doing the tasks that had you attempting to scrub blood out his expensive shirts. Or coming home drunk tripping over his own feet in the middle of the night. The couple always had some form of inside joke when they were around each other.
Each passing day, you found yourself falling for Goo harder. Especially considering, that you predicted the two of your relationship wasn't going to go far due to the interferences of his type of work. There was one thing Goo did and that was assure you of the spot in his chaotic life. It could be from sweet words before he's dashing out the door after placing a kiss on your lips, flowers being sent to your job, and obviously sex. The sex was something. You didn't complain about being assured you were his girl when he was in between your thighs or when he was nipping at your neck creating a hickey. It particular shock you when the two of you took comfort on the couch that was in your living room, you straddling his lap feeling the growing wetness in between your thighs. Your fingertips brushed against his broad shoulders as your thighs trembled with anticipation. You ached for more, but the childish grin on your boyfriend's face. Your own tears of separation trickling from your last line. "Goo." You whined as your hips bucked slightly feeling his cock twitch inside you.
You could feel Goo's fingertips trace alongside your belly button, teeth grazing at his lower lip. "You said you can handle it, babe." He reminded.
❪ ♡ ❫ ─── JAMES LEE (DG)
YOUR TEETH GRAZED AT YOUR LOWER LIP. The taste of your cherry chapstick staining your tongue as your eyes fluttered shut in frustration as the pit in your stomach was screaming for you to move. Your agitated whimpers tumbled out your mouth as you squirmed under the touch of James Lee, your boss. You felt so bad, this was highly inappropriate. However, you just couldn't help the subtle crush that overcame your whole body when you first started. Your cheeks grew so hot when he looked at you a little longer than usual. Or his hand brushed against the lower half of your back when he passed by. On some days when your head was in the clouds, you thought that maybe you were overthinking. It was a subtle crush in your head.
However, the intense feeling of James's cock twitching inside you otherwise. With your fingernails digging into the armrest of the comfortable office chair you always see him lounging in. Your grey-colored pencil skirt pushed up around your waist and lace panties dangling down at your ankle. The feeling of his breath hitting the back of your neck caused goosebumps to decorate your skin and that seemed like the switch to cause you to rock your hips. However, James's large hands were so quick to stop the rocking.
"You're so desperate for my cock, huh? "
#lookism x reader#goo x reader#gun x reader#james lee x reader#webtoon x reader#manhwa smut#dg x reader#webtoon smut#lookism smut#fem reader#manhwa x reader#gun park x reader#goo kim x reader
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1 - The Professional
I don’t expect you to like me. In fact, I’m willing to bet that by the end of my story you will loathe me. That’s okay. I’m not a good person– no one in my line of business is. But I do want you to understand I acted without malice, no matter how cruel my actions may seem. I just take my job seriously, that’s all.
When he walked into my office I could read pain in his deep black eyes, his slow, defeated gait. He was a broken man, and as he told me his story I could tell he wasn’t just speaking: he was living it all over again. The surprise and fear when he realized he was attracted to the babysitter. The thrill and guilt of the illicit affair. The shame as he realized she had played him and he had been too weak to resist her. The rest was predictable: pregnancy, shattered marriage, loss of custody over his only son, child support payments for the one that ruined his life. And yet in that ocean of despair he had found a light, a hope. He called it a need for justice. Others might call it a lust for revenge. I didn’t care either way as long as I got paid.
After we reached an agreement, I went to work. The first step for a proper hunt is to study the prey, to get to know its haunts and routines, its weaknesses and blind spots. Old timers waxed poetic about how hard it used to be, the hours of surveillance and shadowing the mark. All I needed to do was boot up a computer. No point in watching a generation that surveils itself, that lives its life like a mixture of advertisement and open wound. What they post and what they don’t, when they are active online, who they follow… the rosetta stone to their hearts is out there for anyone that can read it. Kate Meadows was no different than most twenty one year olds, in that regard. If anything, she had a taste for the attention that salacious pictures brought her.
I printed a picture of her and pinned it to my board. A completely unnecessary action, I know; but we all have our quirks. I looked deep into her blue eyes and asked the key question I needed to solve. Kate Meadows: what do you lack?
2 - The Homewrecker
Kate barely ever thought of James. He was punctual with his payments, and so he mostly existed as a line on her income sheet. She supposed he was the father of little Marie in a biological sense, but deep down she felt Marie had been born simply as a result of Kate’s own skill. She had willed the child into existence. A part of her had been concerned that some useless maternal instinct would appear, that she would be trapped by a genetic monstrosity hidden somewhere in her DNA and would become one of those disgusting women that cooed and posted pictures of their spawn online for the world to see. Happily, after the birth she felt no more attachment to little Marie than she did for a particularly cherished scarf. No, her most pressing concern after the birth had been to get back in shape.
Aunt Carmen could handle Marie. That had been one of the reasons for Kate’s move to Miami. Carmen was childless, resentful about it and had skeletons in her closet. She embraced Marie as her own just as Kate expected, and if she ever decided to tell Kate a peep about parenting, the younger woman had leverage to keep her quiet and servile. All things considered, a good deal. As Kate walked to the gym, she took in the looks from passers-by. Ah, there was the other reason for the move.
Miami was where rich, older men came to express their various midlife crises. Honestly, it was too easy to do her job here.
Sex was a key that opened many doors, as Kate had learned quickly. It wasn’t just looking desirable– although that was important, hence her strict gym routine and skincare habits. No, it was more than that. It was knowing how to convey a look of innocence with a hint that, perhaps, this good girl would like to be corrupted; or to say without words that she was a freak that would gladly engage in any kink and make every wet dream come true; or to project an aura of vulnerability, like a wounded kitten only looking for a protector, a guide to whom she would be oh so very grateful… The trick was knowing who to become for each mark, and she had been honing those instincts for years. Miami was the perfect hunting ground: the male loneliness capital of America.
Hell, she didn’t even need to fuck most of her marks. They kept her cozy, brought her to the best clubs, bought dinner at the most exclusive restaurants, gave her clothes and jewels and all manner of presents, all for a dream stoked by Kate with smiles, looks, suggestive words. Hope was a powerful force, and that she could provide. False hope perhaps, but real enough for her marks to fantasize the nights away. Sure, she did fuck some of them every now and then but that was hardly a sacrifice. She loved the thankfulness in their eyes, the sensation that she was a goddess bestowing her blessings on these damned souls. She came so hard bouncing on them, knowing they were her toys, her little walking ATMs. She loved that they didn’t know, loved how they looked at her with complete adoration. Nothing felt better than riding their cocks like she rode their hearts, coaxing moans and words at will with her skills.
Suddenly, a warm shower fell on the street. Tourists, unaccustomed to the city’s regular midday rains, started running. Kate let the water caress her, let her clothes get soaked and cling to her every curve, accentuate her silhouette. Who knew, maybe she would land a rich tourist to ride and drain for a few days.
Then, she was on the ground. It took her a moment to realize someone had bumped into her. She would be upset if she didn’t know the “accidental bump” was a standard lame attempt at approaching a woman. Well, one look would tell her if she had gotten a quick success or landed a dud.
The man barely looked at her. Expensive watch. Classy but not tacky shoes. Understated clothing in that way that old money men tended to play down their inherited wealth. Fucking bingo. A tad too young for her usual fare, but she could hook him. She took his outstretched hand and got up, expecting the usual apologies, followed by an offer to make things up to her– with a drink, perhaps?
Instead, all she got was a quick glance. Oh, that would not do. She smiled.
“Sorry! I’m so clumsy sometimes”, she offered. There. Door open. Come in, little man.
“Yup,” he replied. Nothing more.
He left her standing there, dumbfounded. He hadn’t spared her a second look. If anything, his tone had been of utter derision. What the fuck? Whatever. He was probably gay anyway. She shook off the strange feeling in her chest and resumed her walk to the gym.
3 - Analysis
After a week of observation, I made first contact. Oh, Kate. You thought you were so complex, so smart. I went to the board. Lots of sugar daddies, that was for certain. You felt on top, and yet you were a prisoner, like everyone else. Your cage was gilded, your life a race from pleasure to pleasure, all so short lived, all so disappointing in the end. You were a seeker, and didn’t even know it. Like a fool, you went to the ocean and believed it would take the thirst away. Kate… I would have felt sorry for you, if my job allowed such things.
4 - Apocalypse in Neon
She took a deep breath, smelling the sea. Todd had just left, and Kate felt things had gone as well as they could have. It hadn’t been a hard call: Todd’s wallet had gotten lighter, his gifts slightly cheaper, his demands more intense. Sure, she could have made up some medical emergency or family crisis to squeeze one final paycheck… but she didn’t need the money at the moment and it was always better to let the used up ones go with as little bitterness as possible; and so she had pulled out the “need to find myself, you deserve someone that is focused on you” speech. It was bullshit, but she could sell it and it kept the number of angry men in her life at a minimum. Besides, one never knew when a sudden return to their lives might be needed.
She looked at her drink. It was sweet and sour and she wasn’t sure she liked it at all: she had let Todd order for them both. Men liked that. Colored lights flashed and shifted, tinting the liquid in her hand. It felt a bit weird. A million imagined futures had been shattered by a single conversation, entire possible worlds had collapsed with her words and Miami didn’t care: it kept its bright night going with party music and a multitude of artificial suns painting scene after scene in different colors.
“Well done. I’m impressed”
Kate had been too immersed in the neon spectacle to notice the man sitting down on the chair in front of her. It took her a second, but she recognized him. The asshole that had pushed her down a few days before. Oh, great. She wasn’t planning on hunting that night, but… still, who the fuck did this dude think he was?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about”
“The landing, girl. That could have gotten nasty, you know. But I guess you’re clever about picking your men, filter out the violent ones early, keep the more melancholic ones hooked”
Kate looked at the man, anger bubbling up. Part of it was his sheer rudeness. Part of it was that he was absolutely right. She did know how to tell if a man had that violent streak deep inside and how to keep them away. She knew she should just get up and leave, but her curiosity got the best of her. How had this random guy made her?
“What the fuck do you mean?”, she blurted out.
“Look around you. At a glance, what would you say is the average age of the men in this bar? And how old are the girls? Quite the gap, right? Look at the way they’re dressed. That’s bait. The short skirts and tight pants, the pink tops with childish designs, the eye-catching makeup… advertising, that’s all it is. Sure, I suppose it could be a coincidence and they all have daddy issues and a fetish for beer bellies and expensive cars, but I doubt it. They’re working, just like you. I was merely expressing admiration for good work, from one manipulator to another”
Kate felt her chest tighten. It wasn’t just that this asshole had called her out: it was the fact that looking around she saw other girls like her, flirting and luring men in. For the first time Kate Meadows felt something, something she definitely didn’t like. She felt common. There were so many girls… some barely out of their teens; others with cosmetic enhancements that drew the eye to their chests; others catering to special tastes: goths, tradgirls, babygirls… She felt so small, just another fish in a vast ocean… no, she wasn’t like them. She was better. She was the best at what she did. Still, it was an uncomfortable feeling. And who the fuck was this man?
“That’s a cynical view of things, don’t you think?” she challenged. She took the time to really look at him. He was handsome, sure… and his blue eyes were positively entrancing, his lips almost femenine in their fullness; but a deeper, primal part of her told her that he was dangerous.
“True. Cynical, certainly. But I’m not mistaken, am I? Don’t get me wrong, you seem really fucking good at your job, but you are delusional if you think some new girl will show up and do your gimmick better than you. And besides, this… this whole grind, it’s a fool’s game”
“Oh, so I’m a fool now too?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m saying that the real money, the fuck you money… they don’t come here, to this neon purgatory. They have their exclusive resorts and hotels in Monaco and private islands and Lord knows what. Sure, you can make a living here for a while but it seems to me like you should be aiming higher”
“Is that so? And apparently you would know how to reach those higher goals? Who the fuck are you to tell me how to do my job?”
“I’m a professional, like you. True, I don’t con middle aged divorcees, but I’m really good at what I do. I can read people. And I can give you the skillset you still lack”
“I see. And you’ll do this out of the kindness of your heart?”
“Of course not”
“So what’s the gameplan? You teach me, hook me up with richer people and… what? Get to fuck me whenever you want? Get to have me on my knees with a snap of your fingers? Get a cut of what I make? Protect me, maybe? Are you trying to be my pimp?”
He laughed. It was a delighted, genuine sort of laughter, as if the idea of pimping was ridiculous on its face. Or maybe what was silly was the idea of pimping her. For some reason she felt slightly insulted. What, was he too good to pimp her? Did he think pimping her wouldn’t be profitable? Did he think she couldn’t be a top notch whore if she put her mind to it? And was the idea of keeping her as his fucktoy so… without charm?
“What’s so funny?”, she grumbled.
“Nothing. Just the visual of someone like me being a pimp, of all things. No, that’s not the plan. But I do have a plan. You see, I’ve been in contact with a certain individual… I’ve been looking for an angle to do my job... And as much as it pains me to admit it, this is a job I cannot do alone. This particular case needs, well, you. But it needs a better you. A more… diverse you in terms of attitude and willingness to do certain things”
“Ah. You have a mark with certain tastes. You want to ingratiate yourself with him, and introducing me to him would get you closer to him, but you want me to be his perfect woman. You want power over him and to use me to get that, is that it?”
“Something like that”
“Why me? You said it, there’s a lot of girls to pick from here”
“I want to do the job right. That means it has to be you”
Kate felt flattered, she had to admit. Perhaps that’s why she found herself more and more drawn by the man’s proposal.
“How big is the target?”
“The person involved is Important. A man that feels very strongly about many things. Driven. Willing to pay to see his desires fulfilled”
Kate made a mental image of the man. A CEO maybe. Maybe an investment banker. In any case, way above the upper middle-management types she usually dealt with.
“Let’s say I’m interested. What, you take me to him?”
“Eventually. When you’re ready. Like I said, he has very concrete ideas. We need to work together first so you can fulfill that role. Practice. Train. Study. It would be a challenge”
Kate felt her competitive blood boiling. She could be anything. She could become anyone’s perfect dream. That was her gift, and frankly hunting the same kind of man over and over was getting a bit boring. A challenge with a big payday? That sounded intriguing.
“When would we begin?”
“Tomorrow”
“You know you didn’t tell me your name, right?”
“I know. Does it matter? It’s not like you’d ever know if any name I say is real. So… you choose. What should my name be?”
“Hum… something European, maybe? Classy. Leon. How about that?”
“Sure. Leon it is. Nice to meet you, Kate”
“Nice to meet you, Leon. So, we exchange numbers now?”
5 - Improving
The hotel room was clearly expensive, with nice, classy furniture and a large bed. Kate noticed there was absolutely nothing that would give her a clue as to Leon’s state of mind or habits. No personal effects, no little objects that might offer any sort of clue. She didn’t look for long: her eyes were drawn to the tripod and the camera aimed at the bed.
“So we’re shooting porn now?” she asked
“Don’t be silly. It’s for you. So you can review your performance and improve”
Right. Improving. Training. It still felt odd: seduction came to her as naturally as breathing; how special could this target be? How refined his sexual tastes? Of course, there was always the chance that Leon was a psycho and lying to her face… and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that. It wasn’t anything concrete, just a sort of aura, a vibe she couldn’t put into words. In short… Leon just felt like a good person, deep down. Dangerous, but good.
“Okay. So, let’s make me this dude’s perfect girl. How is she?”
“Hard to sum up. Submissive, but more than that. He needs a woman that just… feels the need to please him deep in her bones, needs it more than anything. A woman that can overcome any moral or personal limit if she thought it would bring him pleasure. A woman devoted, body and mind, to his happiness. A chameleon that can be the most traditional housewife and the trashiest slut”
“Oh, I can do that”
“Show me”
“Man the camera and learn, ‘professional’”
Leon did just that as Kate hopped on the large, white bed. When she saw Leon giving her the sign that he was recording, Kate closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them and pierced the lens with her gaze, Kate was gone. Instead, a new person seemed to be inhabiting her body. She stretched like a cat and let her hands roam over her body.
“Daddy,” she moaned, “look at me. I’m yours. Let me be yours. Let me please your cock with every inch of my tight body… please, please, use me. I need it, Daddy. I need you to use me… abuse me… anyway you want. Anywhere, anytime. I’m just your toy, your little fuckdoll for you to play with… I need it! I need to make you happy…”
“I don’t buy it”
The words hit Kate like a bucket of freezing water.
“Sorry?”
“You’re good. That little performance might work for most, but I don’t buy it and neither will he”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you wet?”
“What?”
“Is. Your cunt. Wet.”
Kate took a moment.
“A… little bit” she admitted.
“That’s not enough. That’s the problem. You’re still in control. Measured. I can see your mind at work behind your pleading eyes. You can fake arousal, but desperation, true desperation… that’s not something you can just pretend you feel. Your pussy needs to truly need it. You need to train your body, not your acting skill.”
“And how do you suggest I do that?”
“I assume you know how edging works”
“Yeah, but I don’t see the point in it”
“That’s because you’ve never reached the state of absolute need you have to reach for this job, Kate. Every movement, every inflection of your voice needs to be a manifestation of a physical, irresistible urge to please. And edging will help you get there”
Kate thought for a moment. Edging seemed silly to her. Pointless. But if it might make her better at her job… why not try?
“So… what now?”
Leon tossed a tablet on the bed.
“That is loaded with porn. The kind he likes, straight from his browser history. Edge to it for a few hours, and whatever you do, don’t cum. I’ll go do some shopping in the meantime. Have fun.”
With that, Kate was alone and mystified. He had just… left. After that performance, he had felt no need to even touch her, or tease her, or offer a single word of praise. What the fuck? She felt her competitive spirit rising again. Fine. She’d show him. Kate made herself comfortable, removed her small skirt and turned the tablet on.
The first video was quite standard, Kate felt. The girl was hot, docile and so, so eager… when the inevitable cocksucking happened, what Kate saw was less a blowjob and more an act of religious worship. The girl kissed, liked, cuddled the big cock as if it was the single most important thing in the universe. Suddenly, unexpectedly, an orgasm started to build and Kate managed to barely stop it. Shit, that was a surprise. A part of her felt frustrated and angry at her own denial, at the orgasm that never came, but damn it she would show Leon she could edge with the best of them. She took a deep breath and went to the second video.
Oh, a solo work. Interesting. The girl was in what Kate assumed to be anime cosplay. Sure, whatever. People liked what people liked. Then something remarkable happened. The girl was edging, like her. Her tongue was out, which made her look almost less than human, like a mindless animal in heat. Kate’s pussy sent a wave of pleasure at the realization. Maybe she should… why not? Kate opened her mouth and did her best to mimic the desperate expression in the girl’s face. It felt… good. Good in a way she had never experienced. Somehow… relaxing. As if she didn’t have to think about anything but pleasure, anything but rubbing. Then, the girl spoke to the camera. Her voice was a plea, the expression of a deep, overwhelming need.
“Please… please make me yours… make me your property, your pet, your fuckdoll… I don’t want to think anymore… I’ll do whatever you want, whenever you want… I’ll be… fuck… whoever you want me to be… I’m empty… You can fill me with your ideas, your desires… please, please… let me live for you… share me with your friends… use my holes whenever you want… that’s all I am… holes and tits… rent me out… make me do things I can never take back… ruin me for your amusement…”
It hit Kate like a truck. The girl meant every word and Kate found herself muttering along before having to stop herself from cumming. Panting, she looked at the ceiling. Fuck, that was hot. She would never have guessed seeing that degree of utter submission would do anything for her, but… Well, the edging didn’t help, she supposed. She would probably find anything hot. She went to the third video.
Things became a blur of edges, drooling and images. At some point her mind… shut down. She only edged and watched and imitated what she saw. One of the girls was bound, helpless, used over and over and over like a good girl… another was teaching a younger girl to be obedient, to suck cock, to worship… another only proclaimed herself to be a silly cow, edging and mooing and playing with her huge udders…
At some point, Leon came in. Kate couldn’t stop. His eyes were cold, clinical. He was evaluating her. Kate could only think about his cock… cock… that was all that mattered. She couldn’t think. Everything was fuzzy and warm and vibrating.
“That’s enough for today”, he said.
What? No, it couldn’t be! She needed to please cock… she needed to serve her purpose, to be a good girl!
“Now, we’ll meet tomorrow. But remember: don’t cum”
Don’t cum. He had said it as an order. To her, it was a divine commandment. Good girls didn’t cum.
6 - Bound
Kate knocked on the door with more intensity than she intended to. Her mind flashed back to the previous night. Leon hadn’t told her to do anything and still… her memory was a blur of edging and porn, of speaking out loud words she’d never would have said and enjoying every second of it, of denying herself an orgasm she desperately craved just because… why? Because the Leon in her head would approve of it and she needed to please him. Because the videos made her say it over and over. Because good girls didn’t cum.
When the door finally opened, Kate fought the urge to drop to her knees. There was something so liberating, like losing all control was true freedom. No calculation, no plans, only pleasure and obedience. Leon, on the other hand, was in no hurry. He showed her in, asked her if she’d like some water. Kate couldn’t really decide if she did, and she wished Leon could make that choice for her. She was so fuzzy she didn’t notice the leather bindings on the bed until Leon pointed them out.
“The mark is very, very interested in these. Top notch, expensive stuff. You can adapt the length of the chains and everything. A bitch to set up, let me tell you”
Kate’s pussy sent her a pang of pleasure. Leon had set this up for her. She needed to be thankful. She needed to prove she was worthy. She needed to express her appreciation… her lips felt warm. She needed to please his cock. She took a step toward the man that seemed less and less a man and more and more a divinity… but he stopped her with a single gesture.
“Oh, the edging did a number on you. But we need to focus on the task at hand. Take of your clothes and get on the bed, Kate”
She removed her scant clothing as if it was asphyxiating her, tossing top and jean shorts on the floor. As she crawled (like a bitch in heat, her mind added) on the bed, she became aware of something… something out of place. But what? She couldn’t tell. Her mind was too fuzzy and dizzy to pinpoint her. Something didn’t add up, but she didn’t care. She spread her arms and legs and let Leon strap her, every moment feeling herself become more and more her property. He owned her. Or would own her if she was deserving of it. What had happened to her? Why did she want this -need this- so much?
She was exposed. Spread-eagled on the bed, incapable of escaping, at the absolute mercy of the man standing before her. It crossed her mind that he could do anything to her, anything at all– and not only she didn’t care, she relished the feeling. She was an object, without will or freedom and all she could feel was… relaxation. Letting go was something so new, so exciting: like he was a river after a storm and she was nothing but a leaf, carried along. She didn’t have to scheme, she didn’t have to fake. All she needed to do was feel and obey. His hand barely touched her inner thigh and a shiver ran up her spine. She bucked her hips. Her cunt needed to be used, and it was so strong, so powerful… while she was so powerless and deliciously weak. She’d do anything, anything to please him. It was something she had needed her whole life and never even known it: to just… be. No more chasing, no more pointless holding on to control. Just existing, just being empty… it was bliss. But the hand was skilled, and caressed her softly without even touching her pussy, without giving her a measure of relief. She moaned and whimpered and her breathing became a ragged, shallow thing.
Without a word, Leon took off his pants. There it was. His cock. It was all that mattered, all she needed. Please cock. It was as simple a purpose as she could imagine, and yet it felt like the most glorious task. A miniscule part of her was trying to ring an alarm, to tell her she had missed something important. But then, looking at that beautiful cock… nothing else was important. Her mouth filled with saliva and she stuck her tongue out like a brainless puppy. She needed to feel it inside her. Inside her mouth, her pussy, her ass… it didn’t matter. And, she knew, it wasn’t up to her. All she could do was squirm, and hope.
Leon took a step towards the side of the bed, studying her with his big, blue eyes.
“You are not faking this, are you Kate?”
Kate could only shake her head. Words were too complex for her.
“I can sense it. This isn’t one of your two-bit performances for sad bastards. This is real despair. Real need. Real submission. And to think you achieved it with only a single day of edging! Some girls take weeks or months of training to get to this point, but not you” He climbed on the bed. Kate could smell him… all she could do was drool and pant and hope he would use her mouth-hole… “Wonder why that is? How you broke so easily, Kate? Now, I need you to tell me the truth: what would you do to please my cock?”
Kate had to make a superhuman effort to speak, and even then the words came in bursts, not even proper sentences. “Anything… edged doll… make me better… anything… take me… own me… edged… needy…”
Leon examined her. Her body didn’t lie. He pinched her nipple, drawing pitiful moans from the former homewrecker. The fall had been spectacular, and much quicker than he had anticipated. He moved a bit closer, and Kate strained to reach his cock, desperate to feel it in her mouth. He decided to give her a taste.
She didn’t really suck his cock. She devoured it, kissed it, licked it, made love to it. Her hands strained against their cuffs, eager to hold the marvelous member, to feel its warmth, the way the blood flowed through it. This was it. All she was. All she wanted to be. And she felt… grateful. So, so grateful that Leon was deeming her worthy enough to use her mouth. She soaked the sheets while humping the air. The world faded away. Please his cock. That was all that existed.
He spoke with unusual composure, given the spectacular job Kate was doing. That only made her more eager. He was in control. She was barely more than a beast.
“Kate… you broke so easily because that’s what you wanted, deep down. You were afraid of it, so you always put yourself in a position to rule others. Don’t you see? You were never satisfied because you were too scared to admit it to yourself. You needed to be… taken”
Yes. Yes. Leon was right. Leon was always right. He knew best. He knew her better than she had ever known herself. This was what she had always desired. To serve. To obey. Now… now she was home, having found someone worthy of worship. She took the cock deep in her throat, trying to milk it, to coax the wonderful cum from it… that would give her all the validation she’d ever need. It all began and ended with making his cock cum.
“It even made you blind to the obvious”
There it was again. The alarm. She pushed it away. She didn’t care. She was a cockslave. His cockslave. That's all she ever wanted to be. The idea of going back… unthinkable. Cumming without Leon’s permission? An abomination, not worth considering. His words came from far away, fuzzy and indistinct. She needed to serve.
“Kate, think back to our first conversation”, he said, pulling away. Kate whimpered. She had been given an order, and so she obeyed. Her mind went back to that encounter under the neon lights. It was hard to focus. Hard to remember.
“Kate, when did you tell me your name?”
It hit her like a train. That was it. The thing that didn’t add up. She never did. She never told him her name… and still…
“Sure. Leon it is. Nice to meet you, Kate”
“Nice to meet you, Leon. So, we exchange numbers now?”
She felt as if the floor had disappeared. She was floating in a vast, silent void. Only her needy pussy kept her linked to reality, demanding her to obey. She felt Leon lengthen the chains on her feet.
“Now you know. You are the mark. You were always the mark. Or the… target, so to speak. I never lied to you. There is a man. You just assumed he was the victim, rather than my employer. Hell, I almost told you as much”
“This particular case needs, well, you”
“I want to do the job right. That means it has to be you”
“The person involved is Important. A man that feels very strongly about many things. Driven. Willing to pay to see his desires fulfilled”
The phrases floated in her head. Leon was right. She should have seen it, should have noticed. Yet she hadn’t. Why? Because… because a part of her wanted to fall. Wanted to be defeated. Wanted to bathe in the despair and become a willing slave. And Leon had seen that in her.
“I’m a professional, like you. True, I don’t con middle aged divorcees, but I’m really good at what I do. I can read people”
It was true. He was better than her. She should hate him. But she could only feel wetter and wetter as the depth of her failure sunk in. He had conquered her. Defeated her. Broken her. He deserved to be her owner.
“And knowing the truth, I know what you’ll do. You’ll obey, even if you know you shouldn’t. Raise your legs”
Before the words had registered in her mind, her body was doing as it was told, and in a flash her knees were beside her ears, her holes presented as a token of her submission to her superior.
“I tricked you. Used you. Warped you. And still, you’ll beg me to use your ass. How pathetic is that?”
“So pathetic… I’m so pathetic… I deserve this. I deserve to be a fucktoy. Nothing more. I deserve to be used. I deserve to be abused. I deserve this. You own me. You own me. You are better than me… so please… please use my tight asshole! Please! Please let my body please your cock! It’s all I’m good for! I’m a living fleshlight, a breathing cumdump for you!”
She felt him stretching her. It hurt in the best way possible. She was being useful. He was taking ownership of her. A mixture of pain and pleasure coursed through her body, her brain overwhelmed by the sensations and the acceptance of her utter, complete defeat. It was so good. So good to finally embrace it. With every pump, he blasted away pieces of the person she had once been. She welcomed it. She was ready to be a lesser, greater being. She was ready to take his cum deep inside her body. A body he owned…
Then he stopped.
He pulled out and the emptiness he left behind wasn’t just physical. Kate felt cold. She needed it. Needed him. He had shown her her true self, and only he was worthy of her devotion, of her undying, slavish love. Only he could make her feel like her true self…
She panicked as he put his pants on. No, no, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t… Her life… there was no return to the gray days of teasing and using lesser men. Not when she had tasted this. Not when she had seen the light. He couldn’t just…
“For what it’s worth, let me tell you this: you had no chance. There was nothing you could have done differently, because you are what you are, and I am what I am. I don’t hate you. I don’t even dislike you that much. But I take pride in my work, and I believe I did quite a number on you, didn’t I? Now you know what you were looking for all along, and you know you’ll never reach it. This, I’m afraid, is goodbye. Someone from the hotel will untie you shortly”
Kate weeped. It was all she could do, and she knew it. Her old self now appeared to her a silly simulacrum, shattered by the truth Leon had shown her: as artificial and tacky as Miami’s neon nights. She watched him walk to the door. He paused, and Kate let herself feel hope for the last time.
“James says hi”, Leon said.
7 - Goodbye?
I told you I wasn’t a good person, and reading this, you’d be correct in hating me. I don’t mind.
I don’t mind because I know that if we were ever to cross paths, you’d never know it unless I wanted you to. I don’t mind because I know that, whoever you are, I’ll find that small crack in you, that need everyone has and doesn’t even realize it, and I’ll use it against you. I’ll be what you need, and you’ll never be able to tell what I truly am. I don’t mind because you’ll love me, and I’ll break your heart.
If not me, someone like me. There’s more of us than you may think. Professionals. We don’t advertise, yet clients always manage to find us.
In fact, can you be sure you haven’t encountered one of us already?
Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu and get early access and the full library!
Special thanks to @dumb-doll-lips for being Kate in the cover!
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the colours of my love
Summary: Sirius is writing Remus goodbye letters from Azkaban.
Black.
Everything always starts with darkness, so it seems only right for me to start here.
Whether it was because of the divine intervention of some powerful being, whether our bodies were shaped from clay or from Adam’s rib, or from something different altogether; whether it all started from a powerful explosion and chaos— it started with darkness, and from the darkness, there emerged a light.
Just like the world, we came from darkness. It was only later that we grasped what light was. I guess you could say that everyone does. But our darkness was different. I think that’s part of why it was easier for us to bond than for the others. Why we were drawn to each other so much. Like calls to like.
James didn’t understand the darkness that we came from. I’m glad he didn’t; I’m sorry you did. Our burdens were different in every way, but nobody understands someone who’s in pain, like another suffering person. You are one of the strongest people I know, Moony. I’ll never stop admiring your bravery. You took the hand life dealt you and made the most of each card.
Life is a cycle, and things often end the same way they began. Soon, my life will end in black – the last thing I’ll see will be the grimy hood of a Dementor. I’ll let it steal away the happy memories I’ve been clinging on to. I don’t deserve to have them; I deserve to rot and decay without any hope or happiness or love in my foul heart. James and Lily will never get to feel those things again. And it’s all because of me. I betrayed my best friends. I failed them when it mattered the most.
I hate the thought of my memories disappearing without a trace. I want to be selfish and tell you all the things I never got the chance to say. Even if my words won’t reach you, I want to free them from my heart. There won’t be anyone around to mourn me, so allow me to mourn our love. Allow me to pity myself. Allow me to succumb to the will of the weak man I am. I don’t want you to ever think I never cared about you, about Lily and James and Harry, when I would trade my life for all of yours in a heartbeat. Merlin, do I wish I could strike that deal with someone. Anyone.
I'm sorry that I left you all alone, Remus, even though I promised you so many times that I wouldn’t. I’m sorry that I destroyed everything. I’m sorry that I ruined so many futures. I’m sorry that I wasn’t who you needed me to be. I thought I could be better for you, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry I disappointed you. Believe me, it hurts me so much to know that you won’t ever want me by your side anymore.
I’ve replayed that conversation with James so many times. I killed James and Lily.
You don’t deserve a killer.
I know how much you must hate me now. It’s a just punishment for what I did. Nothing could hurt me more, and I deserve every bit of this pain.
As I sit in my cell, awaiting death, I hope only that you will find light in the dark.
The only thing that has been keeping me sane is replaying my memories of you in my head. I will never cease to be grateful to James for noticing you on that first day at Hogwarts and asking you to bunk with us. I’m grateful for him noticing me – taking me under his wing. I remember feeling so nervous to talk to you for the first time. I had never felt anything like it before. Sirius Black didn’t get nervous. And yet, when I looked at you, there was a knot in my stomach. I had always prided myself on not caring what other students thought of me. But you? I was so desperate for you to like me. I tried so hard, and I’m sure you could tell.
We would have found our way to each other sooner or later regardless, but I’m glad I could be your friend from the very start. I’m glad we could have at least eleven wonderful years together. They were the best years of my life.
I would trade everything I have left for one minute with you – for a proper goodbye. I haven’t had enough of you yet. I want more so desperately, I’d dig my way all the way to you with my bare hands if I could.
I’ll never forget what it was like to see the polished black wheels of the Hogwarts Express for the first time. I owe so much to that bloody train. It was an escape for both of us. We found our home because of it. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail – four perfect friends for life. Or so we thought.
You and James became my family. Our beginning was pure and innocent in that special way that every childhood friendship is. It became so much more, though. You two were there for me through every hardship and every high. You truly wasted your good on me.
I remember being huddled over a cauldron with James during one of our first potions lessons in the first year. We were bickering about something so loudly that the professor moved me next to you. I made a fuss of being upset about it, but secretly I was glad to be able to sit with you. It also turned out you were a lot better at potions than James (he really didn’t inherit his father’s gift). From then on, you were my potions partner until the very last lesson.
Before you, the only colour filling my pages was black. You truly did live up to your name, Moony; you lit up my sky. You made me stop thinking about the dark, like something terrible and scary, but instead as what comes before something great.
I never expected me to end up being the sappy one. I guess that’s what love does to a guy. And I guess many, much more unexpected things have happened to us.
At it's very core, my love came from the darkness. I coddled my fragile heart in the dark and hid it deep inside me my whole life. Years passed before I let you unravel my defences with your slender hands and soft words. But my love for you was never just that. I was never just black. You brought so much colour into my life.
So, Remus, let me guide you through the colours of my love.
#wolfstar#wolfstar fic#angst#sirius black#remus lupin#remus x sirius#wolfstar angst#headcanon#ao3#fanfiction#sirius in azkaban
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Angst-y - but hopeful 😊 Multiverse!au where canon Sirius meets James from alternate timeline where Sirius died young instead. Maybe he was a secret-keeper and it got him killed... And at first they are wary of each other bc impostor effect, and they don't really know this hardened, older wizard. But then — they have the same memories, bond points, everything matches until Halloween night one of them died, and they can't help but reach out and feel joy re-connecting, knowing each other anew
Sirius isn't Sirius if he lost James.
James isn't James if he lost Sirius.
They both meet, the massive weight of these losses changing them, shaping them into new people that the other half of their soul never got to meet.
And now he's here, looking at you, hopeful and unbelieving, haggard like you've never seen him.
Sirius always imagined that when he saw James again (in the afterlife), his smile would be just the same. He'd grin all wide and like Sirius solved all the world's problems just by walking in the door. Instead, he has James smiling at him like the last wish of a man on death row, and that doesn't mean he's not over the moon to see him again, but this is a James he never had the chance to know.
James thought that when he got to spend time with Sirius again (in the afterlife), he'd get him to laugh. It would be loud and full of joy because he'd never been able to hold back when James made him laugh. Instead, he gets this tired man who can barely muster a laugh instead of a chuckle, and it's not less happy an occurrence, but it's different.
It would be a story of two men that have lost the most important person in their life, and then had to live another decade. Not only are they completely warped by their grief, but the man next to them is too. James is the one that lost Sirius; how can Sirius sit there and act like he's the one who had to live without him? How do they reconcile the pain of what they've personally been through with the mirror image of what the other's experienced? How do they fit in the same space with this man who's so similar to who they miss and yet so completely different?
All it takes is one night. One night, where they truly let themselves talk. It doesn't matter what they're talking about, all that matters is they talk. It can be about who they lost and their differing Halloween memories, or it can be the Quidditch games at Hogwarts that they remember exactly the same. All you have to do is get James and Sirius talking to each other, and they'll remember that this man means more to them than the rest of the planet combined. Why live without him when they could have him back? It doesn't just feel the same, it is the same. He might look like a different man-- tired, and aged when the other didn't have a chance to grow older-- but it is the same man, and nothing's going to keep them apart.
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ok I'm sorry you shared that post about sirius®ulus and azula&zuko parallels and I'm losing my mind about it and so I'm telling you I hope that's okay,,
but just imagine a world where sirius and reg are like homeschooled rather than sent to hogwarts so they don't meet james and remus etc and their dynamic turns into azula and zuko style where sirius is ruthless and perfect and reg never quite learned to bury his heart the same and then it becomes reg who runs away when he turns 16 and it's bc sirius took the mark and reg has been hearing about a resistance to vodemort so he tries to find them and sirius's first mission as a servant to voldemort is to hunt him down and kill him but reg finds remus or Peter or James or someone first and that's how the first war goes, with sirius trying to kill reg and reg escaping with knowledge that could kill voldemort (perhaps horcruxes??)
i have no idea if that was coherent, i hope you're doing good!! sorry for the rambles
I am very good
The leafs just won the first round of playoffs in 19 years
I am delirious.
First of all, u should write it!! That would be so cool!! I see Sirius’ character very differently but this is an amazing concept!
Oh god my guy this is breaking my heart. I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to see Sirius without his heart, but I can totally see the parallels between Zuko and Regulus.
I do think Sirius has a lot of capability to inflict pain on others (they both do) and because Sirius burns so brightly he really did need those outside influences to help shape him into the person he is today. I do think he would be prone to becoming cold and cruel like Azula without that.
The only thing about Azula that I cannot see within Sirius is that desire to serve. He was not born with that quality and he would refuse to build it.
Regulus being a Zuko variant means a lot to me because he ultimately has to out grow that desire. Azula never does, that’s part of the problem.
So while Regulus is definitely a Zuko varient, Sirius is something different to Azula because that one quality changes everything about how he would act in that situation (at least to me).
It would be more likely he strikes out on his own. He would never submit to someone’s beliefs simply because they’re right.
I think he would still leave his family and not join Voldemort, but I do think without the influence of James, Remus, etc. it would be more because he will not stand to be controlled rather than because he’s doing what’s right.
And that makes him dangerous in his own way.
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New Post has been published on Andy Bondurant
New Post has been published on https://andybondurant.com/2023/03/14/habit-hint-2-the-2-minute-commit/
Habit Hint #2: The 2 Minute Commit
Walking with God is a habit. Hearing God is a regular, daily exercise through reading Scripture, praying and meditating on what we read and hear in those times. Notice the fifth and seventh words in the preceding sentence, “regular” and “exercise.” If you want to successfully hear God you must make it a regular practice (or habit) in your life.
Last week, I introduced the first of three hints to develop habits (regular exercise or practice) in your life. Last week, I shared knowing “The Who before the Do.” Everything you do flows out of who you are, so you must define who you want to be in order to create the practices that will lead you there.
Begin here: Who do you want to be? Every habit tip, trick, or tool flows from first clearly defining who you want to be. If you haven’t read that article, stop, and go read it.
Next week, I’ll share with you “Treat Yo’Self” – a system of rewards to encourage the development of habits you want to see in your life.
This week, I want to give you what might be the most powerful “action” tip to developing habits. First, define who you want to be, but then you need to know the action steps needed to be that person. This hint will help you the most.
It’s the 2 Minute Commit.
The Gym Guy
I didn’t used to be a “gym guy.” Do you know who I mean? Gym guy or gal is someone who doesn’t feel like their day is complete without a trip to the gym. He may not talk about it, but he obviously goes to the gym and makes it a part of his daily routine. She doesn’t make it a large part of conversation, but she drops hints that she’s on her way to the gym, or just came from the gym.
They don’t just go to the gym, but they also eat healthier than the average person. The gym guy take his physical body serious. They gym gal isn’t afraid to wear more form fitting clothes. They don’t shy away from physical activity.
Image by Meghan Holmes on Unsplash
Over the last 5-6 years, I’ve been come gym guy. Most weeks see me visit my gym 4-5 times a week for about an hour a day. During that visit, I jump on the elliptical or treadmill for 30 minutes and then rotate through the weight machines for around 20 minutes.
I didn’t used to be gym guy, but I am today.
Gym attendance
As a gym guy, I’ve become aware of the cycle of gym attendance. A few times each year, (usually January and May), I notice a large influx of men and women hitting the gym. It’s been a great study of human nature and habit formation.
Most of these new gym members will walk in, hop on the treadmill and huff and puff for 15-30 minutes, and then randomly roll through the weight stations for another 30 minutes. Here’s the pattern I see: for several days, maybe even a couple of weeks, these new members won’t miss a day, but something will catch up with them, and they miss a few days. Then the shame hits, so they return for a day or two. And then they’re gone…until next year.
The desire to be in shape for their vacation or just general health is gone. It was replaced by the pain they encountered getting out of bed, standing up from the couch, picking up their child. In just a week or two, they are back to the same old routine of life.
There has to be a better way, right?
The 2 Minute Commit
In James Clear’s book, Atomic Habits, he tells the story of man who was more than 100 pounds overweight. Fed up, he created a picture in his head of the person he wanted to be — gym guy. So this man created a new habit…2 minutes at a time. This is what his schedule would look like:
The man would walk out of his house and jump in his car. He would drive to the gym, get out of his car, and walk into the gym. Once in the gym, he would step onto a treadmill, push the button and start walking. To this point, his routine was no different than the people who I see come and go from my gym. It’s what came next that set him apart.
The man would walk on the treadmill for two minutes…and get off.
That’s it. Two minutes and then he would walk off the treadmill to the door of the gym. He would walk out of the gym, get into his car and drive home. That was his workout for the day. But his procedure was in place because the next day he did the same. The day after he did it again, and he did it again the day after that. In a few weeks, two minutes at a time, the man had created a new habit in his life. Two minutes a day, he became a person who was a gym guy.
From 2 to 3 to 5 to 10 to 30 to 100!
Here’s the true genius behind the 2 Minute Commit. It creates a habit, but the action doesn’t actually end after only two minutes.
I’ve noticed in my own routine that if I talk myself into starting, I’ll most likely go beyond my own goal of a few minutes. It is true for both my physical life and my spiritual life.
It was true for the guy who committed to walking the treadmill two minutes at a time. After a while, two minutes turned into three minutes and then five minutes. Five minutes turned into 10 and 15 minutes. Before long, the man was walking 20 to 30 minutes, and adding other workout routines to his habit.
Most important, his 2 minute habit which turned into full workouts day-in and day-out ended in losing over 100 pounds.
Power in Starting Small.
Starting small is not a new idea. Jesus shared this thought when talking about the Kingdom of Heaven. He consistently used the imagery of a farmer planting seeds (the most commonly referred to found in Matthew 13). But Jesus dove the deepest into the power of small using this parable:
“Jesus said, “How can I describe the Kingdom of God? What story should I use to illustrate it? It is like a mustard seed planted in the ground. It is the smallest of all seeds, but it becomes the largest of all garden plants; it grows long branches, and birds can make nests in its shade.”
Mark 4:30-32 NLT
Jesus was talking about the Kingdom of God, but it is a principle that extends to your life. Habits, both good and bad, start small. Bad habits usually start off unintentional. Before you know it, that seed of a bad habit has become a full blown tree dominating your life.
But it is also true of the good habits you desire. When you plant, water and care for the small seeds of a good habit day after day, it become positive, fruit bearing tree. Not only that, but it will provide for the world around you.
Habits that Matter Most
Several years ago, I started the habit of journaling. I didn’t know about the 2 Minute Commit principle, so I blindly stumbled into its benefits. Over the years, I had tried journaling without success, so I made it as easy as possible. I committed to journal several times a week about life goals for just a few, brief minutes.
I didn’t go too deep. It wasn’t too long. Over time, journaling about my goals turned into recording things God showed me as I read scripture. And it wasn’t just a brief few minutes. It has become 30-45 minutes most every day.
I’ve come to enjoy and even desire a daily physical workout, but I can live without them. I can’t live without connecting with Jesus on a daily basis. A few years ago, an off day meant not reading or connecting with God at all. Now, an off day is reading scripture without journaling and meditation. Today, almost every day of my life has a minimal connection with God.
I need Jesus daily.
It is a habit that matters most in my life. It grows me internally like the mustard tree Jesus talked about in Mark 4. My habit of reading, journaling, meditating, praying is creating within me true life — both within me and for those I encounter on a daily basis.
I don’t grow without a habit. Habit doesn’t happen without a 2 Minute Commit. The 2 Minute Commit doesn’t happen without knowing who I want to be — a person known by God.
That is me. Ask yourself:
Who do you want to be?
What habit do you need to create in your life to allow you to be that person?
How can you scale that habit to make it as easy as possible?
What is your 2 Minute Commit?
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Learning English (21)
What I Read today?
In this early morning i grateful because I have read amount pages of book. I have read some pages of Offline : Finding Yourself in The Age of Distractions that wrote by Desi Anwar. A book which fulfilled by reflection and meditation about life. This book, according to me, is a good book in order to heal our anxiety and to heal our lack appreciation about life.
In my reading now, i have read three chapter. They are The Importance of Habit, The Magic of Nature and Listening to The Body. In the description below I'll explain to you my reflection about these chapter.
The Importance of Habit
As said by Desi Anwar as opened this chapter, "We are what we repeatedly do. Success is not an action but a habit." (Aristotle). I agree an proud about this quote. Indeed, a couple days ago until now I know and aware about how valuable and precious this skill, skill of habit. Make a habit walk consistency is the ability that must all of us master it, because we in future is what we in the present, habit makes us become an expert for what we do.
Now i Still reading many resources about self improvement. I have read Atomic Habits by James Clear, The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg, Essentialism by Greg Mckeown, Offline by Desi Anwar and I have some books about this that I did read it, they are Hello Habits by Fumio Sasaki and Set Boundaries by Nedra Glover Tawwab.
In this opportunity i will emphasize about the importance of habit. As said by James Clear, "We do not rise to the level of our goals. We fall to the level of our system." So, if we will go up, we must repair our system, which is our habit. Lets we build good habits and break the bad ones.
In this write i will enclose this quote, which I took from Offline book, "Once in a while, this probably won't make much different to the shape of our day or our body. When It becomes a habit, however, over time there will be negative consequences that can impact the quality of our life. And we will be left asking ourselves, what went wrong?"
"Thus, we too can be much more effective in getting what we want and in being the sort of person that we would like to be, if we start controlling the types of habits we adopt. We may not be the olympic athlete, the wealthy entrepreneur or the top-notch business person. However, by adopting positive habits, we can be a lot closer to achieving our dreams and accomplishing a lot more with our lives."
"Developin good habits requires discipline, consistency and continuity. It requires a high degree of self-awareness and internal regulation."
The Magic of Nature
This chapter explains that nature gives us more than we think about it. Walking and losing in the nature, of course with bring mindfulness in our mind, can overcome our anxiety and heal our lack appreciation toward our enjoyment. Admiring a beauty of nature gives us a strength and is proven to enhance our happiness.
"To walk in nature is to witness a thousand miracles."
"So, the next time you feel overwhelmed by life, stressed out by worries, burdened by your thoughts, weakened by too many ambitions and hurried by time that slipped uncontrollably from between your fingers, lose yourself in nature. Allow the fresh air to clear the cobweb in your mind and the debris in your heart."
Listening The Body
"The Body Never Lies." (Martha Graham).
Based on this quote, Desi Explain a story about her friend. There is one of her co-worker has bad habit such as no day without smoking and making coffee. She had warned and advice her friend about this dangerous habit, but her friend said he couldn't sustain and exist his life without both activity, smoking and drink coffee.
He did it day by day, makes it as habit. And something badness happened, he got sick, collapse and ultimately dead. Doctor claimed this because his bad habit such as smoking or drink coffee to much and over. Unfortunately.
"The Body does communicate with us, all the time. Through little aches and pains, minor discomforts, through feelings of listlessness, tiredness, lack of energy and sensations that make us feel out of sorts and out of balance. The body tell us when we need to rest, when need to eat and when we should stop eating."
How Are You My English?
Meanwhile, iam so glad when i explain and convey to you about my progress on enhancing english language. Alhamdullah, I said, my English is better than yesterday. It means that I can get one step closer day by day, and this good improvement that I can achieve it.
I Still use Atomic Habits for upgrading my english. By fulfilling my daily goals, I imagined that one day I can mastering this language through my daily that fulfilled by language exercise. Like this one (writing on Tumblr).
Today i have ability to read some article easier than yesterday then I can watch englich video with enjoy because stock of my vocabularies that added day by day. Alhamdulillah.
As said by one Tedxer, "Just forget your big goals and plan your habits with some exercises those can encourage you to get closer to your goals." and I did it.
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Do you have any complaints about HP canon, and if so, what are they? For example I know a lot of people really dont like that Draco didnt get a redemption arc, but your work seems to really thrive off of a close reading of canon Draco in a way I think a lot of fanfic just cant because hes like... a very bad person. Its made me wonder if you are very... canon positive? I guess? Or more positive than most, maybe.
I have too many complaints about HP canon to list in an ask, but I can try to list some of them. First I want to say that choosing to use canon to inform your fic has less to do with whether or not you like the canon and more to do with what you like or want from fanfic. If you don’t like that Draco wasn’t redeemed, you can write a fic that posits he is redeemed and so that canon doesn’t have to be dealt with. Or, you can write a fic that shows how he gets redeemed or deals with the fact of his redemption to show what canon could have been. I obviously prefer the latter style, though I respect anyone’s choice to write in the former style. I can’t say I always understand the former style, but I respect the fact that people want to do it and should if that’s what they want.
I will say that I’m not sure I’ve ever written a fic that’s fully canon compliant, and I can’t quite imagine wanting to. Most of my fics a response to canon--they’re about something that wasn’t in canon, that I wish was in canon; or they’re about something that wasn’t in canon, and I don’t want to be in canon, but I still want to be explored. I wish the MCU would actually deal with the responsibility of wielding outsized power of destruction, so I wrote MCU fics. I do not want Schitt’s Creek to deal with the darkness of David Rose’s trauma or past, but I was still interested in it, so I wrote darker SC fic. I love Star Trek TOS, but I want to see Kirk and Spock hook up, so I wrote TOS fic.
There are a few things where I like the canon just the way it is, so I don’t write fic for it. Rainbow Rowell’s Carry On series is just what I want. I don’t need to write fic.
Back to my complaints with HP canon, the major problem I had was a lot of set up without the follow-through I expected or desired. I discussed that in my tumblr posts about Ron and Ginny. The set up of the Harry Potter universe is rather black and white, which I appreciate--it’s easy to get invested; it’s easy to consume. You know who the good guys are right away, and there’s no more complication. LOTR is rather like that, and I love it. But then HP begins to deconstruct its premise--James Potter was good, but he wasn’t kind. Dumbledore was trying to stop Voldemort, but he wasn’t honest. Snape is a horrible person, but he’s trying to do the right thing. This is my favorite sort of story, the one that starts black and white--vampires are evil; the robots will kill us, and the Gems that didn’t rebel are the enemy. Then a vampire earns his soul, or you find out you’re a robot, or--well, actually I didn’t like where Stephen Universe really went with that, but you get the picture. The Harry Potter series began the process of turning its own premise inside out, but somewhere in Halfblood Prince, that got too hard, and things began to snap back to their original shape. Good is good, actually, and bad people will always be bad.
One example of this is the death of Voldemort. Harry is set up as a mirror to Voldemort. Their pasts are very similar. Harry even feels compassion for Voldemort. At several different points, Harry is faced with the fact that he has to kill Voldemort. But Harry never has to deal with killing Voldemort, or with making a decision to spare Voldemort. In the end, Voldemort causes his own end as a result of his own destructive tendencies. This makes me feel that the text is suggesting that Voldemort deserves death. The idea that anyone “deserves” death for bad things they’ve done is not something I believe in or ascribe to. But even if it is the argument the text wants to make--what was the point of showing us that Tom Riddle was lonely, hurt, feared, and probably mistreated? The point really appears to be to show that two boys can have the same background and one turns out good while the other turns out bad, because goodness is inherent to some people while evil is inherent to others. I find this conclusion abhorrent, but I feel the conclusion is ultimately borne out by plenty of other aspects of the HP books.
The other example is Draco’s lack of redemption. I do not think villains have to be redeemed. The world has proven that shitty people can remain shitty. I also appreciate stories that show us the humanity of shitty people. A story about someone who is faced with thier bad choices but continues to make bad choices because they’re too afraid to do otherwise can be a good story. But I guess with Draco, I felt like I saw enough of his inner turmoil to understand why his heart would change, but not a thorough explanation of why it wouldn’t. Combined with many other similar characterizations in HP canon, it just feels like more essentialism--bad people are bad, and that’s how it is. I don’t mean there’s no nuance--as I said, the series does begin to deconstruct its own premise; we even saw how the Trio could be shitty. But ultimately they make the right choices. The characters who make the wrong choices generally continue to make them, except for Snape and Dudley. My complaint with those two representing a change of heart is that we don’t get to see the actual painful process of what that looks like--Snape’s happens pre-canon and there is too little of Dudley to show what is going on in Dudley’s brain.
The last thing I absolutely hate about HP is a lot of the “bad” characters tend to be overweight or unappealing in appearance. It’s true that a lot of this might be Harry’s POV--maybe Snape actually is the sex god some fics make him out to be, and Harry just he’s greasy because he doesn’t like him, and maybe Harry doesn’t like a good hook nose (I do). Additionally, Lockhart is very pretty, and while I want to firmly stress that Draco is never describes as good-looking, he’s not really described as ugly, and I believe Narcissa is even described as beautiful. But the book isn’t written in close third-person Harry POV, and “pointy” isn’t very flattering. Unkind words and stereotypes are used throughout to highlight the badness or evil of almost all the characters we’re not “supposed to” like. The descriptions of the Dursleys in particular are upsetting.
In my opinion, the above examples demonstrate a lack of compassion at the heart of the HP story. That’s what I’ve always hated about it and what always made me want to write about it. I want to write and say, “Look at this. This is fucked up. This is wrong.” Some people don’t read fic for that reason, and I think that’s fine. Plenty of those people really hate my fic, which is also fine. I know that many things in this world lack compassion, and I don’t spend years of my life writing fanfic about them. I think the reason I keep coming back is to me, the premise was unkind--which I was fine with, and then the text itself began to deconstruct itself--which I was overjoyed by. It made me fall in love with the series. But when the premise snapped back to an essentially black and white world, I felt betrayed.
In conclusion, I find HP at its very essence to be unkind. Ursula K Le Guin said it best when she said that it was “ethically rather mean-spirited.”
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THE FLYING (gets shot
*stands up, throws table over, steps on top of the wreckage*
You know what? I don't normally like to be so definite but
"The Flying Kipper" is the best episode, okay?????
I mean the writing and cinematography of all of Seasons 1-4 has always fascinated me, long before I fell into The Lore; each episode just an incredible little piece of artistry. They're all mesmerizing in those respects...
... but "Kipper" is just on a whole 'nother level. In a tier of its own.
The emotional wind-up of "Coal" making it so easy to get invested?
The opening shot that pans in from a distance?
Henry and his driver's cosy little confidance at the beginning?
"Hurrah! That will be lovely"?
The sheer coolness, as a kid, at glimpsing all this work and activity in the middle of the night?
The harsh lighting?
THE HARBOR SET OMG????
Ringo's narration of the whole "quay" bit, leading up to "... the guard showed his green lamp, the Flying Kipper was ready to go!"
The close-up on the wheelslip?
The tinkling theme music to begin the journey?
Henry wearing the express goods headcode?
The snow-covered sets the train passes through?
Just... ALL THE ATMOSPHERE? Yes, the nighttime lighting is a huge factor, but it's not the only factor—"Wrong Road" and "Ghost Train" went to town with the glowy things in the night theme too, and they're lovely to look at, but once again, just the whole different level of artistry in the Kipper journey?
How cosy the brakevan cocoa break looks? How appropriately the fireman looks a friggin himbo?
The mood whiplash?
The crash is so much more dramatic in the TV adaptation than in the book? And it's great?? The drama really works here at this point in the arc, Awdry totally missed a trick??? (Probably because he really didn't care enough about Henry to notice????)
The fade-to-black? In Thomas the Tank Engine?? Seriously, the show peaked here!! The drama!!!
How awkward and painful the angle Henry is stranded in looks? The crane draped over his face? Holy crap, this stuff hits hard for TTTE, I just feel there was never a wreck ever again that was portrayed so seriously, without the comedic angle?
"The signal was down, sir"???? 😭😭😭😭
The wreckage and clean-up in the background of that scene, just always fascinating to peer at. I've been doing so for decades now, and only recently, thanks to FutureRust's WIP, did I look carefully and realize that James and Edward are both there on mop-up duty. You guys, I just... I just need more of the engines in the aftermath of this wreck.
The timeskip is done so beautifully; it would feel jarring, except for how uniquely spring the set looks here:
The "but everything was all right" shift forward feels so appropriate with this seasonal setting, the shift from winter to spring. I can't really remember a time the classic series ever looked so spring-y. Seems like usually it looks like dead of winter or beaming full-sun summer.
And then we just throw in Henry's beautiful new shape afterwards?? Just toss it in at the end??? In a lesser episode, it would be the highlight. Here it's just the cherry on top!
Final note, something very personal and important to me but content warning for religion and specifically Christianity here:
Henry's whole arc hit me like a brick a few years back when I viewed Season 1 in order and was struck by how I was seeing the experience of invisible disability represented (whether the author(s) intended that or not!)
And it also reminded me of a metaphor C.S. Lewis used once, and the "Kipper" arc still hits me exactly the same way.
Regarding the doctrine that it's for God and not humans to judge other humans, he pointed out that our bodies shape a good deal of our psychology and how impossible it is for other people to understand how someone else inhabits the world. His examples were "weak constitutions" or "jangled nerves" (oh, the 1940s-ness of it!) But in an afterlife where we lose our old bodies those effects would become more apparent. People who seemed strong of will or "nice" might be shown to have simply coasted on good health. People who seemed like snappish basketcases might prove to have been incredibly diligent and brave in their efforts to treat others as well as they could, even when it didn't always look like it. As he put it, "There will be surprises."
So he imagined that this life is very much like everyone is issued a car to drive. And some people get clankers, that are nearly impossible to keep under control. Someone who gets a sounder car would look at so-and-so's slipping, sliding, and spin-outs and assume the driver is incompetent... but if in fact their car is defective then they might be showing great skill in getting anywhere at all. Of heaven, he said, we'll see each other's moral self as it really is, stepping out from behind the wheel as it were.
Anyway I think of that every time I see Henry after Welsh coal or post-rebuild. We don't know what other people are dealing with. When the playing field is leveled... there will be surprises.
#chatter#ttte#thomas the tank engine#ttte henry#ttte episode talk#ttte season 1#the flying kipper#i know that was a long tangent at the end but damn it was nice to at least try to express a part of why this arc tears me apart like this#:')
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hello there ,i love your blog it brings me great comfort , if it's not too much trouble could you make a compilation about unrequited love, my situation is the i'm in love with someone that just wants to take from me and give nothing back, i will break up with him today but i'm feelling very sad about this , i hope you are doing well and have good things in life bye bye and sorry to bother you
i’m so sorry for what you’re going through but so proud of you for walking away. you can check out this compilation that i made; here are a few more:
“My heart is full not of guilt, or shame, or remorse, but of grief… Everything has become too terribly mixed up.”
Boris Pasternak, from Letters Summer 1926: Pasternak, Tsvetaeva, Rilke
“But if it’s love, by God, what is this thing?
If good, why then the bitter mortal sting?”
Petrarch, from the ‘Canzoniere’ (tr. Mark Musa)
“He filled her up, her whole world, a moon obliterating the light of any other star.”
Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless
Anne Carson, from Plainwater: Essays and Poetry
“If I let him do this to me, what else will I allow? Anything, anything, anything.”
Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless
“God, what are you doing to me? / What am I doing to myself?”
Adonis, from ‘Concerto for the Veiled Christ’, Selected Poems (tr. Khaled Mattawa)
David Mitchell, Slade House
Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
“I want to give you everything. This is called a sickness.”
Camille Rankine, from Possession
“Love that incorporates, that devours the other person, that cuts the tendons of the will. Love as immolation of the self.”
Susan Sontag, from Reborn: “July, 1958”
“Love isn’t always magic.
Sometimes it’s just melting.
Where it’s black and blue.
Where it hurts the most.”
Andrea Gibson, from The Madness Vase; “Maybe I Need You”
“Love? I wanted to go with him, to be on the strong side, for him to spare me, like one who seeks shelter in the arm of the enemy to stay far from his arrows. It was different than love, I was finding out: I wanted him as a thirsty person desires water, without feelings, without even wanting to be happy.”
Clarice Lispector, Complete Stories
“Isn't there / always something we want / more than our own happiness? / A pull toward the Fall. / Haven't we all loved too much?”
Danusha Laméris, from The Moons of August; “Apples”
Yves Olade, from When Rome Falls; Bloodsport, 2017
“You have done this a hundred times. Will always do it. Always. I’m so tired of your lack of everything thoughtful, wise about you. You act like a child, a child that just asks and asks and never thinks and sucks one to death, and I’m sitting here crying because it’s so hopeless to ever expect you to be otherwise.”
Anaïs Nin, in a letter to Henry Miller
“Why should anyone go through so much in order to be treated right?”
Alice Notley, Culture of One
“Another moment and I will tell you:
it’s not joy but torture you give me.
I’m drawn to you as to a crime—”
Osip Mandelstam, from Selected Poems; “Feodosia”
“I felt a terrified pity for him, for this man who lived in such strange, secret places that, if I loved him enough to follow him, I should have to die.”
Angela Carter, from The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories; “The Bloody Chamber”
Ingeborg Bachmann, from The Book of Franza (tr. Jan van Heurck)
“Desolately we parted. Dear one. When we really parted later on, there were no tears, no comfort either. Something like anger on your side, resolution on mine; each of us understood the other. We were not yet through with each other. To separate that way is harder, easier.”
Christa Wolf, Cassandra: A Novel and Four Essays (tr. Jan van Heurck)
[ON LOSING LOVE]: This is the model I propose. You are arriving home and as you approach the garage you try to work your routine magic. Nothing happens; the doors remain closed. You do it again. Again nothing. At first puzzled, then anxious, then furious with disbelief, you sit in the driveway with the engine running; you sit there for weeks, months, for years, waiting for the doors to open. But you are in the wrong car, in front of the wrong garage, waiting outside the wrong house. One of the troubles is this: the heart isn't heart shaped.
Julian Barnes, A History of the World in 10 and 1/2 Chapters
Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book of Images
“It isn’t, our story isn’t—isn’t a story anyone would have chosen to live. But, I had to ask myself…would you change it if you could? Would you? And I had to realize that I wouldn’t. So—that’s all there is to that.”
James Baldwin, Tell Me How Long the Train’s Been Gone
Nikki Giovanni, from “[Untitled]”
...nothing remains of you but the memory of something painful, close to breaking or being lost, and somehow very near extinction.
...no me queda de ti más que esa reminiscencia de una cosa doliente, próxima a quebrarse o a perderse, cerca ya, de cualquier manera a su extinción.
Dulce María Loynaz, Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems; “Poema LVI” (tr. James O’Connor)
Sandra Cisneros, “Mariela”
#i know how hard it is to walk away from that kind of complicated love. i hope you find all the healing in the time that comes now <333#the dark's his bone#the great wound#compilation#quote compilation#...#long post
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Where The Green Grass Grows
Chapter 1
Summary: Life changes, nothing ever stays the same. With most change comes with some degree of pain, that’s how we grow.
Jensen thought he had his whole life planned out, written for him in the bright lights of Hollywood. One failed marriage later, and a lifetime of lessons learned, lead him home to a place he thought he’d left behind him when he was only a teenager.
He thought his life was over. He felt like he’d lost everything, but who knew one little trip to the local diner that had just opened up outside of town would turn his whole world upside down. All because he met you. Maybe a little slower pace of life isn’t such a bad idea after all…
Warnings: Language, Angst, mention of past OC character death, mention of grief, dealing with a divorce. Drinking. I think that's about it for this chapter.
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader
Word Count: 2550
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics
A/N: This fic is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! Feedback is golden! This series is complete on patreon.
My Masterlist My Patreon Series Masterlist
“Mr. Ackles! Good morning!” Alex, Jensen's longtime agent, said as he took his seat at the big oak desk in front of Jensen.
“Alex,” Jensen said, giving the man a tight smile as he watched him shuffle through the pile of paperwork on his desk. Jensen had been in the entertainment industry since he was a young boy in one sense or another. He was no idiot, and he knew the reason he was called into his agents office for the first time in almost 15 years wasn’t a good thing, and he knew just what it was about.
“I’m glad you could come in to see us on such short notice, Mr. Ackles. I’m sure you’re a busy man, and I’m not going to take up much of your time.”
Alex folded his hands in front of him, and Jensen couldn’t help but feel like the kid that had been sent to the principal's office for doing something stupid in class. The only difference was this time he wasn’t a kid, and this wasn’t a school. He was in his fucking forties, and this was his job. He hadn’t even done anything wrong!
“I’m sure you already suspect the reason I called you here Jensen,” Alex said, dropping all formality that was there just a moment ago. “Your recent divorce has affected you, and I don’t mean that in an offensive way!” Alex said as Jensen rolled his eyes. He knew that’s what this was all about.
His divorce with Danneel had been a very public one. There were children involved, and of course a substantial amount of property. What divorce has ever gone smoothly or quietly in Hollywood? None that he’d ever seen, and they were overall civil for the public eye? So what was the problem?
“Cut the shit, Alex!” Jensen said, barely holding his temper in check. He could feel his blood pressure rising in his seat. Why did people have to be so damn judgemental? “What the fuck is this really all about?”
Alex took a deep breath, and set back in defeat against his dark leather chair, and looked at Jensen almost as if he pitied him, and damn if that didn’t just suck worse than the wishy-washy shit.
“Look, Jensen, since your divorce you haven’t been as on your game as you were. You’re showing up late to set. You have been drinking more, I can tell it by the color of your fucking skin man. You’re exhausted. No one expected you to jump back to work before the ink even dried on the divorce papers, and the company thinks it might be time to take a little break, get yourself back together, and figure shit out before you try and take on another roll.”
Alex fell quiet as Jensen set there with his hands buried in his hair, no longer looking at him. Alex did not want to do this to Jensen, he really didn’t. It was the guys that were higher up than he was.
Sure they weren’t exactly wrong, he could see it in the actor’s eyes how tired he was, and how much strain he was under. He didn’t want another nervous breakdown under his belt like Charlie Sheen that had almost turned into an incurable disaster. Jensen had a stable following, and a break wasn’t going to hurt his career. If nothing else it may help it.
“Go back to Texas for a while Jensen, get away from all this shit here in California, go have a damn beer out in the country for fucks sake. Focus on you! Gigs will still be here. You need to take care of yourself man.”
Jensen nodded slowly before finally looking up to meet Alex’s now concerned gaze.
Jensen knew deep down he’d been slipping, but he didn’t think it was bad enough to warrant a forced vacation. If it really was that bad, he knew he needed to take a step back from the public eye until he could get his shit together before it did hurt his career. He’d seen much bigger actors than him fall because of shit they did while going through tough shit like this, and he didn’t work all his life to lose everything.
“Okay… Fine… I’ll go home for a while,” Jensen said, huffing in defeat, rubbing his hand along the beard that was now covering his jawline as he focused on a random spot on the building just outside the window. Completely done with this conversation.
Alex breathed a visible sigh of relief and flopped back into his chair. His eyes still on the man in front of him. He couldn’t imagine what was going on in Jensen’s head right now, but whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t in the sharing mood.
“I’ll let the big guys upstairs know, take as long as you need,” Alex said, getting up from his desk and extending his hand for Jensen to shake. Jensen looked at it like it personally offended his mother, but shook it all the same. He didn’t want to piss people off to the point he’d need to find a new agency to represent him, but man, did he want to tell everyone in this building to go fuck themselves.
It really didn’t sink in that he was going home until Jensen sat down at his computer at home with a glass of bourbon in his hand, looking at plane tickets back to Dallas. He hadn’t told his dad he was coming, and he knew his family would welcome him back with open arms, but it was his own mental struggle that kept him from hitting the pay now button on the screen.
Sure, Alex said that he could come back whenever he was ready, but the truth was he didn’t know when or if ever he’d be ready again.
He felt like going back to Texas was admitting defeat. When he’d shown up in California all those years ago, he’d struggled his way into Hollywood. No one had given him an exactly warm welcome, and it didn’t come without some damn near misses and shit that almost sent him back before his time.
Now, after all that. Several decade’s worths of struggling, and clawing his way to where he was today, he was going home. It left more than a little bitter taste in his mouth, and there was nothing he could do about it.
The agency wasn’t going to get him another job until he took a break, and sure he needed one, but he didn’t want to take one. On the other hand, if he didn’t take one, then he’d surely destroy his career because he was in no shape to be in the public eye.
There was no going back to Austin. He couldn’t live in the same town as her, that’s why he’d run off to California. If he was going back to Texas it was going to have to be Dallas. No matter how much he didn’t want to.
It wasn’t that he was afraid someone would make fun of him, or the locals would talk about him. He was loaded, and successful. He wasn’t concerned about their opinions. It was his own pride he was struggling with, not theirs. He had lost his wife and children, now he was losing his career, and he just didn’t feel like this shitshow could get any worse.
“Who says you can’t go home,” Jensen said with a dark chuckle as he booked his ticket, and stared at the departure time. 5:00 A.M. tomorrow. That only gave him a few hours to pack, but then again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to even take any of this shit with him.
“Order up!” you hear James call from the other side of the counter where the kitchen was separated from the bar by a large whole that took up most of the inner wall, much like a lot of older dinner kitchens did in the ’50s and ’60s.
You throw the rag you’d been wiping the bar down with in the laundry hamper that was hidden safely under the counter from the view of the customers and grabbed the tray of burgers and fries, bringing them over to the young couple that was sitting at the very back of the restaurant. They were the only customers left in the place, and it was obviously their first date.
You could tell it in the way the girl nervously played with the hem of her dress, while the young man did all he could to hold a conversation with her. It was evident that in the light blush that covered her cheeks she had feelings for the boy, and judging by the way he was gushing over her, his feelings went pretty deep too.
“Here you go guys, if you need anything else I’ll just be right over there,” you tell them with a smile. They thanked you, and you returned to your place behind the counter. You sighed deeply as you started to count down the register that was used earlier that day. Once this young couple was done, then it was time to get out of here. You were more than ready to get these shoes off your feet and sink neck-deep in a bath as hot as you could stand it in order to relieve some of the day's tension that was still evident in your back and legs from standing on your feet all day.
As you counted down the money in front of you, your eyes kept drifting over to the young couple sitting at the back table. You remember when Eric had taken you on your first date. It was at a restaurant much like this one. Then the night before you got married, he brought you back to the place where it all started. He was deployed to Iraq for another tour just three weeks after your wedding and returned in a flag-draped casket a year later.
It was one of the hardest paths you ever had to walk in your life. You were young, had little to no family, and Eric was your world, your whole life, and it seemed like so suddenly it was ripped violently away from you.
You swallowed hard and tried to remember to continue to count the money, crewing on your lower lip in concentration.
It had been three years since Eric’s funeral, and you still hadn’t moved on. Sure, there had been prospects. You were still young, only 30, and you were single in a relatively small town outside of the greater city of Dallas. So it was no secret that you were not with anyone. You knew you should find someone and try to settle down again, but you just didn’t feel the same way Eric made you feel about anyone that had approached you so far. He was your first love. There was a whole there now, that you didn’t think would ever mend.
Seeing that young couple that looked so happy and so in love brought up a whole lot of feelings that you wished like hell you could bury because they still hurt.
“Hey you, stop staring at the customers,” Jessica said, leaning against the counter with a smirk on her face.
You give her your best bitch face and go back to putting the money bag in the safe under the counter. “I’m just making sure the customers don’t need anything.”
“Liar,” she said simply. “You know it’s been three years, Y/N.”
You looked up at her and sighed deeply as your eyes trained back to the young couple that were laughing together.
“I know Jessica. I’ve thought about it. No one just… I don’t know, makes me feel the way Eric did.”
Jessica gave you a sympathetic look and threw her arm around your shoulder. She was working here with you when this place opened up right after you and Eric got married. She had been your friend ever since, and she was there with you through the grieving process, and she still kept a close eye on you all these years later.
“You know I’m only telling you this because I love you as a friend right?” she asked you, and you just stared at her. Afraid of what was about to come out of her mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to play matchmaker, and you didn’t know if you could go through that again.
“The reason you can’t find someone is because you're still holding on to him, Y/N. You have to let him go, let him rest!”
Your hand slipped up to the small silver locket that you kept around your neck. Eric had given it to you right before he left for your last deployment, and you never took it off. You knew she was right. You were still acting like you were a married woman. If you were ever going to move on, you were going to have to let him go.
“I know you’re right, but I don’t know how,” you tell her in earnest, as the young couple throws some money down on the table, and gathers up their coats to leave, waving at the two of you as they went.
“I’ll tell you what, tonight after we finish up, we’re going to head down to the graveyard, and you're gonna tell him goodbye for real, and bury that locket, and let him go. Then I want you to move on!! You're so young, you deserve to be happy, Eric would want you to be happy.”
“I he would,” you tell her. Letting go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and wiping the stray tear away that fell down your face before you nod and agree to go.
It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, but after you got off work, Jessica got in her car and followed you to the graveyard. You did just like she said to do. You told him goodbye and took the Locket with a spoon you’d grabbed from the diner that they were going to throw away, and dug a small hole, burying the locket, and a part of your heart forever.
When you got home to your small house and got in the shower to wash away the day, deciding to forgo the bath because it was so late, and you were exhausted, you felt a little more at peace than you had in years. Even though there would always be a part of you that missed Eric. You hoped this time that you could let him go enough to finally move on.
You wanted what that couple had tonight, you wanted a friend and a companion. Maybe now you could start to let yourself be happy again. At least the weight that you had been carrying for three years felt just a little lighter, and you closed your eyes that night in hopes that tomorrow was going to be the start of a better way of life for you.
You never know, maybe Mr. Right will just walk right in the diner tomorrow. Then again, would you ever be that lucky?
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#jensen ackles#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen ackles fanfic#jensen ackles series#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x you#jensen x reader#jensen x you#rpf#real person fiction#x reader inserts#spn fanficiton#spn fanfic#spn series#jensen ackles x reader series#jawritter#dean winchester#where the green grass grows
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Prongsfoot
James and Sirius. They have such powerful relationship. I mean, there are no words to describe it. They are not only friends. They are more than best friends. More than brothers. But nothing romantic no.
Their relationship is more like platonic. They are the only Marauders that met at the train and immediately clicked. After the ride to Hogwarts, it felt like they knew each other for life.
They were very much alike, but at the same time very different.
Sirius never knew what a friendship was like. He thought it was just having a good time with the other. Sirius hid his pain and vulnerability. Because he didn't want James to think he wasn't brave. And how could James understand what he was going through? James had the perfect life, the perfect parents.
But James noticed. James began realizing that not every kid had the money he had, the parents he had. So James understood and didn't brag about his luck anymore.
One night, Sirius told him how his family was. Only to him. And James saw his friend cry for the first time. James hugged him tight.
"You don't need them Sirius" he said "I am going to be your new family. Me and the boys"
That made Sirius smile. And James' heart warmed up.
James and Sirius were very protective of each other. Once they started growing up, being teens instead of kids, it wasn't the two of them anymore. Both of them had new friendships and romantic relationships. And each time one of them got into a relationship the other was jealous. They didn't believe anyone was worth it for his best friend. Sirius wasn't fond of Lily at first. And even if James loved Remus, he was jealous that Sirius was closer to him. Eventually they got over it and were happy for their friend. Specially since they saw it was true love. James' and Sirius' relationship confused everyone. Nobody understood that they loved each other deeply, just not in a sexual or romantic way.
"Okay, I can't do it anymore!" Sirius stopped panting and bent down to touch his knees. He was bloody tired.
James stopped running and turned to look at his friend. He looked fresh.
"But we barely ran 10 minutes"
"It's 4 a.m" Sirius protested "You're bloody insane Prongs"
"If you want to come back to the team you need to be in shape, okay?"
Sirius sat down and James put his hands on his waist.
"I cannot just let you back in the team just because you're my best friend..." James sighed sitting next to his friend "Lazy wanker"
"Excerciseholic!" Sirius snorted
"Slow snail!"
"Shut up!"
They both laughed and then James stopped. Sirius had been noticing that lately. It was as if James didn't let himself laugh with Sirius. Maybe it was because he was still angry with him. James had forgiven Sirius. Remus had. And Sirius was grateful because he didn't deserve it. But now it wasn't the same. James was even trying to avoid looking at him. Sirius felt such ache in his chest.
'Prongsie. I don't want to lose you. Please' Sirius' thought.
"Are you still angry with me, James?" Sirius asked carefully.
"What?" James smiled "No"
Sirius looked down "Yeah you are. Don't lie. You know everything changed"
James took some time to speak "Padfoot..." The fact that he used Sirius' nickname was a good sign "I forgave you a long time ago. I wasn't even angry at you. I was angry at myself"
"What?"
James rubbed his hair nervously "I made you hate on Snape. And I was the one who wanted to prank him... I'll let you believe it was okay..."
"Fucking hell James!" Sirius protested "This was never your fault. It was mine! Okay? I was the one who did the fucked up thing. Not you"
Sirius was desperate to let James know how amazing he was. How important he was for him.
But James looked really sad.
"You saved him, James" Sirius continued "You did the right thing"
"Are we bad people, Padfoot?" James' voice broke "I don't want to be bad. I don't want to hurt anyone. I never wanted"
Sirius bit his lip in guilt.
"No Prongs. I am the bad one here. Maybe I am more like my family than..."
"No!" James interrupted, he turned to face his friend "Look. We were stupid in the past. Perhaps too cocky or something. But I know you. You are the most brilliant lad I know. And if you were like your parents. You wouldn't been feeling guilty right now. Or you wouldn't be friends with muggleborns, halfbloods or even a werewolf. I am your best friend. And I know you. You're not a bad person"
James' eyes were watery, so as Sirius'.
"You're not a bad person either James" he said "You are the only one that got us standing. What you had done for me, or Remus, or even Peter..." he shook his head "You are so generous. Always thinking about others..."
James shook his head crying.
"Fuck James you're ten times better than me"
James sniffed "I am not going to let you talk shit about my best friend"
James grabbed Sirius' head and they touched foreheads.
"I love you Sirius" James said "No matter what"
"I love you too, James" Sirius answered "I don't know what I would do without you"
They hugged tightly and cried into each other's arms.
#harry potter#marauders#maraudersera#marauders headcanon#sirius black#james potter#padfoot and prongs
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Theo Raeken, Scott McCall and the concept of betrayal in friendship - a Teen Wolf meta
Recently I came upon an interesting and somewhat subversive perspective on two phenomena that have been occupying my mind for a long time – friendship and betrayal. Because these two themes are not only often present in Teen Wolf, but are at the very core of season 5, I had some thoughts on the psychological concepts of friendship and betrayal in relation to the series.
General consensus in our view on both friendship and betrayal suggests that we tend to view friendship as a natural state of things developing through mutual trust and loyalty with love at its core, whereas betrayal is viewed as disruptive event that causes mostly pain, confusion and destruction. The perspective I am talking about considers the possibility that "the roots of both [friendship and betrayal] may draw their energy from the same deep layers of the human psyche" (French, Gosling and Case, 2009) and that betrayal is in fact not something that comes out of nowhere and disrupts friendship, but rather precedes it and constitutes its inherent part. It also introduces a very interesting concept of "virtuous betrayal", which may be regarded as "betrayal in the service of a higher purpose‟ (Krantz, 2006). Both betrayal and friendship are therefore complex phenomena, which according to the authors are interdependent and have deep impact on each other.
I'm going to start from the concept of virtuous betrayal, which to me is interesting and rather uncommon and puts Theo's attempts at dismantling the McCall pack in a new light (at least to me). In Status Asthmaticus (season 5, episode 10) Theo fully reveals the motivation behind his actions:
I never lied about why I came to Beacon Hills. I'm here for a pack. I came for the were-coyote. The one whose first instinct is to kill. I came for the banshee. The girl surrounded by death. The kitsune, the beta with anger issues, I came for Void Stiles. That's the pack I want. Unfortunately, it doesn't include Scott.
What we see here is something which may be regarded as a fundamental difference in Theo and Scott's understanding of what the pack and friendship as the force that binds it means. Scott's understanding of friendship has its roots in the concept that Aristotle called vera amicitia or amicitia perfecta, a 'disinterested friendship', where the well-being of the others is of primary concern, and he is ready to make sacrifices he considers necessary (for example, his willingness to join Deucalion's pack of Alphas, knowing that there might be no way out of it once he agrees). Meanwhile Theo regards the pack mostly in terms of power and safety, where the element of friendship is non-existent. In his speech, he emphasizes only traits which are mostly viewed as negative, which is very revealing when it comes to his understanding of the world and its rules. He genuinely believes that removing Scott from his position as the pack leader is for the greater good; to him, friendship, love and caring that constitute the basis of Scott's pack are all weaknesses. This is the result of his formative years spent under the 'care' of The Dread Doctors and the values instilled in him, which are the exact opposite of what Scott believes in. Theo views the pack and leadership through the lens of utilitarianism, "to the exclusion of the pursuit of virtue and commitment to the good" (French, Gosling and Case, 2009), which is the complete opposite of what Scott believes in. He knows the Doctors' main goal – unleashing of the Beast of Gevaudan – and wants to get out alive; his main goal is survival. It is worth mentioning that he also operates from the point of a deeply rooted inferiority complex ("I'm not even a real werewolf"). Therefore he believes that what guarantees him survival and safety is securing his position as the leader of a pack by fear and control instead of mutual trust and loyalty.
This perspective raises the question of the degree to which he can be held responsible for his actions. I tend to disagree both with the view according to which Theo is considered only a victim, as well as the one which considers him only a "bad guy" without taking into consideration all the mitigating circumstances surrounding the way he was raised. We all act according to the values imprinted in us in early childhood, which shape the lens through which we view the world. Therefore, I deeply disagree with the view that Theo 'deserved' whatever happened to him. Of course, he does have the ability to make choices, and it doesn't excuse the bad ones he made (for example killing Josh and Tracy). However from his perspective, all the choices he made were necessary for both his survival and his attempts to feel whole, to be a real person instead of an artificial construct he perceives himself to be.
How does this relate to theory I mentioned above, which considers betrayal not only a fundamental part of human experience, but an inherent element of friendship, which in fact inevitably precedes it instead of outside force that disrupts it? Well, at this point it became obvious to me that this is exactly how Theo perceives the world. According to James Hillman and his reflections on betrayal as viewed through the myth of the Garden of Eden, betrayal is a natural and necessary stage in the „unfolding‟ of human consciousness (Hillman, 1975, in: French, Gosling and Case, 2009). Through betrayal, our real self is born, as it was depicted in the myth of the fall of Eden, in which the "death" described in Genesis – „of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die‟ (Genesis 2:16) – means the death of illusions that we as human beings like to hide behind, for example perceiving people as either good or bad without understanding that humans are complex beings with different motivations and initial circumstances that formed them. In the case of Theo, he was already put at a deep disadvantage comparing to the rest of the pack members and had no chance to develop positive and healthy values and coping mechanisms that would enable him to earn what he desired instead of taking it by force, which was the only way he knew for his whole life. Again, that doesn't in any way negate traumas and hardships the other members of the pack went through, neither excuses Theo's behavior and the choices he made. I'm simply pointing out the factors that were a huge part of why he did what he did.
Now, let's get back to Scott. It's interesting to me that Scott, despite the fact that this view of the world and the values he believes in are very different than Theo's, seems to understand his motivations, at least to some degree:
Scared people do things you wouldn't believe. (season 6, episode 12)
Life can’t ever be all bad or all good. You know, eventually, things have to come back to the middle. (season 5, episode 1)
Especially the second quote (regression to the mean theory) is interesting, because to some degree it agrees with Hillman's theory about betrayal being the necessary part of evolving human consciousness and the 'death' of illusions that humanity develops to avoid facing uncomfortable truths about themselves (such as Stiles rejecting the 'shadow' part of himself which then manifests as the Nogitsune). Scott's deeply empathetic and caring nature explain his enormous ability to forgive things that most people would consider unforgivable, which is reflected in the scene of his death:
SCOTT: They're not like you. They never will be.
THEO: Because I'm a Chimera? Because I'm not a real werewolf?
SCOTT: Because you're barely even human.
Barely even human. Even in his darkest moment, as he is dying at the hands of his former close friend and now his greatest enemy, Scott refuses to fully dehumanize Theo. He doesn't call him a monster. He doesn't hurl insults towards him. He still considers him a person. In fact, he never in the course of the whole show acts hostile towards Theo or mistreats him, not even once, although he would have plenty of reasons. The main emotion he expresses towards Theo is deep disappointment. He doesn't even express regret in having trusted Theo. He decides to trust him again by sending him with Mason to the tunnels and by asking him to get to the hospital to take care of his friends, which – if this trust was misplaced – could have serious consequences.
Although perspective on betrayal as a fundamental part of human nature inevitably connected to friendship may seem somewhat pessimistic, it may also seem the opposite. "In our heart of hearts, we carry both experiences together: they coexist, so that if one is dominant, the other is always present as a 'shadow' (French, Gosling and Case, 2009)". From that perspective, we can understand the necessity of forgiveness more deeply and be ready to work on and develop our ability to forgive, which can in time become our greatest strength instead of our greatest weakness. Just like in case of Scott McCall, who – by forgiving the unforgivable – made his enemy, the man who betrayed him, turned his friends against him and murdered him, into his trusted ally.
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a drop in the ocean — sirius black
pairing: sirius black x female!reader
summary: sirius teaches reader that love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
warnings: cheating, swearing
a/n: this was inspired by the song “a drop in the ocean” by ron pope! this is a little different from what i'm used to since the overall theme is a lot more ??? mature ?? i guess ?? i kind of stepped out of my comfort zone with this but i hope you guys like it :')
It's bizarre how much pain can change you.
You become this entirely different person. You look the same on the surface, but somewhere deep inside you, you're someone else. You're stronger. Everything that has happened to you—all the tears you've shed, the people who have hurt you, the pain you've endured—all of them shapes you into something more. Something better.
And one day, you will wake up, look back at everything that you have endured, and you will smile. And it will feel like the puzzle pieces of the world have fallen back into place again—and maybe it's been that way for a long time. Maybe you've come so far in terms of healing and you're only just now starting to notice.
[Y/N] [Y/L/N] wakes up one summer morning, when the sun is warm and promise of a new day looms above her head. She swings her legs over her bed, pads over to the window in the corner of the room where sunshine filters through, draws the curtains open. Here she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and just—
Remembers.
And this time, it doesn't hurt anymore.
—
Sirius Black was a charmer.
He wasn't just handsome; he was attractive. He knew exactly how to get people to swoon over him without laying it on too thick. He'd send a quick glance over anyone's way—one that made them feel as though they were the only person on earth he could see—and that person would fall.
They'd want him, fooling themselves into the belief that they were different. That they were special in a way that none of Sirius Black's previous flings were.
They'd end up with their hearts broken, of course. Shattered to bits and left at their feet for them to clean up on their own, because Sirius just couldn't bother.
It would happen within a month or two. Some much less.
But [Y/N] lasted the longest.
She was in Ravenclaw, and had caught Sirius's eye in her sixth year. She wishes she could say that she was different—that she hadn't fallen for him the moment he'd gone up to her in the Great Hall and steered her away from her friends, asking for her name—but she wasn't. She'd taken one look at Sirius's eyes, seen what seemed like genuine sincerity in them, and felt her sixteen-year-old heart doing odd little flips inside of her chest against her will.
Sirius Black liked her.
It took a month before he asked her out. Made it, as some would say, "official". A part of [Y/N] knew that it wouldn't last long, but she would enjoy this—enjoy him—while she still had him. She'd never felt this way for anyone before, and despite her brain telling her that Sirius Black was trouble, her heart said otherwise.
A month together turned into two. And three, and then four, five, and suddenly the rest of Hogwarts was wondering when Sirius planned to break things off with her.
[Y/N] wondered it, too. But Sirius still looked at her the same way he had done all those months ago when he'd asked for her name, like she was everything in the world he'd been hoping for—like she was different. Like he actually held real feelings for her and not just the kind you try out one second and then get bored of the next.
She wanted to believe that look in his eyes, but she'd heard the rumors. and on top of that there were her friends' warnings, telling her that Sirius was no good for her and that he would break her heart one way or the other.
One day, while they sat at the balcony of Ravenclaw tower during one of the many times she'd snuck Sirius into the common room, she glanced at him.
They were sitting on the floor facing each other, legs crossed underneath them. Sirius's hands were in her own; her fingers played with the rings decorating his, turning them over and over.
"I like this one," she murmured, her touch lingering on the silver one on his middle finger. It was elegant, contrasting beautifully with his pale skin, simple and with what looked like a crest emblazoned on the middle. She looked up at him and found him looking at her—gaze intense and yet somehow also gentle, like he was memorizing every last detail of her face and committing them to memory. Softly, she asked, "Does it mean anything?"
Sirius made a small sound of confirmation, eyes leaving hers to look down at the ring, watching as her fingers grazed over it. "Yeah," he said quietly, blinking, lashes dusting pale cheeks before he was looking up at her again. It took a while for the rest of his words to get out of his mouth; he looked as though he was in deep thought, watching her with something unreadable dancing just behind his eyes.
And then Sirius was clearing his throat, shifting on where he sat. When he spoke next, his voice was oddly soft. Sincere. (And again [Y/N] found herself wondering: are you pretending?)
Because it was during moments like these that made her think that what Sirius felt for her was real.
"It's from, uh," he cleared his throat again, and [Y/N] didn't fail to notice the sudden rigidness of his shoulders. His gaze was skittering away, looking instead at the scenery below them instead of at her. "It's from James's family. The Potters. I.. ran away from my family, see, about a year ago."
As [Y/N] listened to him speak, watched as his eyes grew hard and he swallowed with difficulty, she realized—this was something important to him. He wouldn't lie about this just to get closer to her; he was laying part of himself bare to her that very few people had ever seen.
"They took me in," Sirius said quietly, still not quite looking at her. "When I had nowhere else to go, they let me stay over at their place. And that same Christmas, they gave me this ring to.. welcome me to their family, I guess." Emotion tugged his lips upwards at the corners. "I'm grateful for them," he told her, nodding a little to himself, and then he was looking up at her, meeting her eyes.
He was relieved to see that there wasn't any sympathy in them. just—and Sirius found it suddenly very hard to breathe—love. Pure, unadulterated love.
"You deserve to be happy," she told him, tone just as soft as the gentle smile on her lips. She pressed her palm into his, fingers slipping into the spaces between his own and squeezing. He squeezed back, still staring at her, and wondered if his lungs had forgotten to stop breathing.
[Y/N] leaned in, lips feather-light in how they ghosted over his cheek, and then she was pulling away, and Sirius's heart was doing something weird inside his chest. "I'm happy you're in a better place now."
Sirius couldn't breathe.
He surged forward, capturing his lips in her own, and at that moment both of them knew this was different; it felt different, more than just a press of the lips, more than just a kiss. Sirius pried her lips apart with his own, taking his sweet, gentle time, and it shot sparks across his body like he'd never felt before. They kissed slow like melted honey, tender and thorough and just a little overwhelming, and Sirius was dizzy with it—he felt like he was drowning.
He was drowning, but he loved every second of it.
—
A few months turned into a year, then two, and before anyone knew it, they were graduating. And still, as they left the gates of Hogwarts to venture out into the world waiting for them, Sirius and [Y/N] were still together. It went against everyone's expectations—and truthfully, [Y/N]'s own—but it made her happy, being with him. and she could only hope that she made him just as happy as he did to her.
They moved into a flat of their own in the outskirts of London. It wasn't anything grand, but it was cozy and clean and it only took a few months for the building to become something of a home to both of them.
[Y/N] loved every moment she spent with Sirius. All their shared smiles, their little, subtle moments of intimacy, the fleeting kisses, waking up in the morning with him by her side—everything.
She loved him so much that it hurt.
Three years into their relationship, as she lay in bed with Sirius, their entire bedroom dark and quiet save for both of their rhythmic breathing, she told him.
"I love you," she whispered into the skin of his shoulder. His arm was draped lazily around her, and she was curled up at his side—and everything about it was painfully familiar. The way his chest rose and fell. The way he stroked at her hair. How he shifted down just the tiniest bit to press a kiss to the crown of her head.
She loved Sirius so much that she didn't even realize—or maybe didn't care—that he never said it back.
—
Maybe it was something that was just ingrained into him. There could have been a million other reasons that all pointed to it not being her fault, but still, for the longest time, she believed that it was.
Sirius was seeing someone else, and he wasn't doing a very good job at hiding it.
One of her friends had told her that they'd seen Sirius in Diagon Alley with another woman at his side. [Y/N] had been angry, but not at Sirius—no, she'd lashed out at her friend, calling her a liar, saying that Sirius would never do something like that.
It's bizarre, the things you do for love. how much you hurt yourself in the process.
Only a week later, she found a letter tucked into the pocket of one of Sirius's coats. It was addressed to a name she did not recognize, and written underneath it were sweet, sweet words that [Y/N] could remember Sirius telling her once or twice before.
you make it hard for me to breathe
everything about you drives me absolutely mad
meet me tomorrow night at the leaky cauldron and
[Y/N] stopped reading. Her hands were shaking too badly; the letter fell from her hands and onto the floor. There was bile rising in the back of her throat.
Her knees went weak underneath her. She leaned on the bed for support—the same bed they'd laid in just this morning, the same bed he'd murmured the very same things written in that blasted letter—
"Oh, God." She let out a ragged, broken sound, hands clutching at her own chest as though it would help ease the pain. She couldn't breathe. "Fuck. Fuck."
[Y/N] didn't know why, but when Sirius came back home that night, claiming that he'd gone over to James and Lily to say hi, she didn't bring up the letter right away.
"How's Lily?" she asked, not looking up from where she sat on the couch, instead pretending that she was invested in a copy of the Witch Weekly magazine in her hands.
"She's doing fabulous," grinned Sirius, shrugging off his coat as he made his way over to her. "Her belly bump's getting a lot more noticeable. James is seconds away from absolutely losing it. He's always frantic—I swear he thinks the baby's going to pop out out of bloody nowhere."
[Y/N]'s senses weren't working properly. She hummed something inaudible in response. A single, painful thought was wafting around her head—a question that she now knew the answer to perfectly well.
Sirius strode over to her, draping his coat over the arm of the couch before moving around the coffee table to sit next to her. He was smiling. "But how was your day, love?" he said, and then he was leaning over, reaching out with one hand to tilt the side of her head towards him—
You're pretending. Always pretending. As soon as he made contact with her skin, she was flinching away, and Sirius knew that something was wrong.
"Is everything alright, doll?" he asked, brows furrowing into a frown of concern. His hand hovered somewhere next to her face, still, fingertips just barely ghosting her cheek.
Before Sirius knew it, [Y/N] was standing up and flinging the daily prophet onto the coffee table. There was something swimming in her eyes that he couldn't quite pinpoint, but he felt something stirring in his gut—something like realization.
Something like guilt.
He reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "Doll," he said softly, and to him, it sounded like damnation.
And then [Y/N] said something that made his intestines feel like they were twisting into knots—"I know," [Y/N] said, without looking at Sirius. "I know everything."
Sirius blinked.
His grip on her wrist faltered, hand falling into his lap. There was a moment of thick, heavy silence. The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped by several degrees; Sirius felt cold sweat trickle down the side of temple. The space around him suddenly didn't seem to have enough oxygen.
And yet he let out a choked laugh, if only to quell the storm within his heart. "I don't," he began. His voice was unstable. "I'm not sure what you mean."
She was making her way to the door, but her movements were hesitant, like she didn't quite want to go—or rather, she was unsure where to go. She paused halfway to it, hands curling into fists at her sides.
"Just stop," she said. Resignation etched her voice. She leaned a hand on the wall, back still turned to him as she muttered to herself, sounding as though she'd lived entire countless lifetimes and had had enough, "Stop with the lies, Sirius. I'm done."
Sirius's limbs were getting up of their own accord, approaching her where she stood. But even he knew that he wasn't allowed to have her anymore, not at this moment—not at any moment, not ever—so he halted a few feet away from her, hand reaching out as though he wanted to touch her, gather into his arms and pretend like none of this had ever happened.
That he hadn't done anything wrong. But he did, and now he was paying for it.
When she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion and there was undeniable pain in her eyes; “I'm only going to say this once,” she said, the lump in her throat audible. She turned around, meeting his gaze, anyone could tell that she was trying to sound strong—trying to sound like all of this didn't hurt her as much as it really did—but all of her walls were crumbling down on her, and it didn't sound like she'd be able to pick herself back up.
She swallowed with difficulty, blinking rapidly as though to fend off tears. “This is the last time you will ever lie to me again."
She looked up at him. Sirius's breath hitched in his throat. “I’m done,” she spat. “I’m done pretending like I’m okay with all of your crap. I’m fucking done.”
Sirius opened his mouth. There were a hundred explanations resting on the tip of his tongue, but all of them sounded like excuses, and he knew that was the last thing she wanted to hear.
And Sirius was the last person she wants to see.
He watched, with gut-wrenching guilt swimming in the pit of his stomach, as she wiped aggressively at her tears with the back of her hand and sent him a look of the utmost loathing—but Sirius saw right through it. He saw her pain.
Pain he had caused. Pain he knows he still caused.
“I hope you’re fucking happy,” she choked out, meaning to sound angry, but all Sirius heard was pain.
As she slammed the door shut on her way out, Sirius wondered to himself, as his knees buckled and he leaned on the couch for support, if [Y/N] would ever be the same again.
He'd made a mistake; a terrible one. And there was no going back from it now.
—
She did.
That is—she healed. It took her time, of course. Quite a lot of it.
Years passed by in a hazy blur. There were people who grew close to her, people who promised her the same things that she believed in so long ago. That she would be loved by them unconditionally if she just let her walls down and gave herself a chance to try and trust someone again.
It was difficult. She'd loved Sirius as though he were everything in the world that mattered—she had offered him all of her despite knowing that every moment he spent with her was a lie. every kiss, every promise; lies. All of them.
And yet she'd loved him, and when you love someone, you don't care about anything else but them. You don't listen when all of your friends tell you that he isn't good for you, and you don't care when he climbs out of bed in the morning, not quite meeting your gaze when he tells you he's going to visit a friend.
If you love someone, you don't care about all of that.
Or at least you tell yourself that, until you realize that you do. You do care.
[Y/N] realized it far later.
It was that that gave her the strength to walk away from him, despite her heart telling him that it's okay—why should it matter if he doesn't love you back? As long as you love him, it's okay.
It wasn't.
God, it really, really wasn't.
So [Y/N] lived on, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. And it's funny, how pain changes you. At first you think you're never going to be the same again—that you will be heartbroken forever, wallowing in your own self-pity—but the more time passes, the stronger you get. You don't feel it right away.
But one day, many, many years later, when her heart has healed, and she wakes up and realizes that she is loved by people around her and by herself, the way Sirius Black had never done—she realizes:
She is strong. So much stronger than the person she was before.
For the first time in a very long time, when his name wafts back into her head again, she doesn't feel pain.
Instead, the corners of her lips tug up into a small smile.
Here, in front of the window, with the warm sunlight painted across her face, her lashes flutter open.
I'm done pretending.
And now, there is no more pain in her eyes.
There hasn't been for a long time now.
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A Practical Stranger
Title: A Practical Stranger
Prompt/Day: Day 10 Movie/Book/TV Fusion (Grey's Anatomy - Season 5, Episode 1 "Dream a Little Dream of Me") and Day 14 Different Hogwarts Houses
Tumblr Name:
Rating: T
Brief summary: Hermione receives assistance from someone who may not be as much of a stranger to her as she initially thinks.
Any possible triggering/warning tags: Mild language, graphic depiction of an injury
Hermione Granger strives for perfection in all aspects of her life. She prides herself in having been at the top of her Ravenclaw class at Hogwarts, and now an experienced and competent Healer at St. Mungo's.
She approaches healing magic like she did school; theoretical and by-the-book, not often straying away from wizarding methods that don’t have factual evidence behind it.
She doesn't consider herself to be an emotionally cold person — despite having colleagues describe her that way — but she also isn’t one to devote time developing personal relationships with her patients.
It's mid-January as she steps just outside of the hospital doors for some fresh air during a particularly stressful evening, and her lime-green robes fail to keep her from going numb in the cold. As Hermione reaches for her wand to cast a warming charm, her feet slip on a patch of ice beneath her shoe, sending her crashing back onto the solid, snowy pavement.
Hermione grunts in pain as she rubs the side of her head. It’s a bad day that has somehow gotten worse, and the forecast for improvement isn't faring well.
Try to focus on something calming.
Hermione’s eyes land on spikes of ice hanging above her. Little droplets of water fall from the tip of the centermost icicle onto her face. She's transfixed by the jagged, crystallized surface, combined with its pyramidal shape and transparent color.
A soft cracking sound shifts her attention, and she sees the icicle breaking free from its position. Before she can even move, the needle-sharp edge plunges down and punctures her straight through the stomach. A sharp pain ripples through her body and the intensity of the wound feels like a cold flame burning her nerve endings. The sensation numbs her to her core, stilling all movement, like she's just been petrified.
When she finally remembers to breathe, she sucks in a strangled gasp of air. Panic sets in as she realizes how difficult it is for her to breathe or even speak. Her hand flails through the white snow, searching for her wand that has somehow left her pocket.
Help. I need help, quick.
In the next moment, a tall, dark figure looms above her, and she wants to scream, but no sound comes out. All she can think about is the throbbing pain.
She barely registers her body being elevated up into the air. The unknown man hooks an arm under her knees and carries her at a swift pace into the hospital.
His ginger hair and ocean blue eyes strike her with a sense of familiarity, and she wonders if they've ever met before.
It only takes her another second before she realizes — of course.
Ron Weasley. Gryffindor.
She knows of him from her time at Hogwarts and has certainly heard the stories of his escapades over the years with Harry Potter.
And yet, he's much different than she remembers from Hogwarts. She recalls him always being tall and lanky. Now, he has the strong build of an Auror, and the thought alone makes her cheeks redden.
A loud commotion and flurry of movement around her disrupts her inner thoughts, and she can see she is now in a full room with other Healers and Mediwizards.
"What happened?" She vaguely hears another witch call out.
"Just take it out," she moans as loud as she can muster. All she can think about is the pain and how she needs it to end.
"Leave it in!" Ron's stern voice demands beside her.
Hermione lets out the smallest of tuts, unimpressed by his attempt to call the spells when he is certainly not in the field of medicine. "Take it out!"
Ron's eyes lock on hers, and for a moment, she forgets that she's just been stabbed. Instead, the intensity of his gaze blinds her, and his clipped tone cuts through her just like the chip of ice did. "Leave it in."
Hermione decides she doesn't have the strength to argue further.
Ron speaks towards the Healers at a frustratingly low volume, and she grows concerned when they all shuffle out of the room, leaving her alone with the man who has flaming hair and a matching attitude.
"So, Hermione Granger."
"Ron Weasley."
His eyes brighten in surprise. "She recognizes me."
"It's not hard," Hermione shrugs, wincing as she tries to sit herself up on her cot without jostling the melting icicle. "Your red hair sticks out like a dirigible plum. What are you, an Auror, now?"
A small smile plays on his lips. "Something like that."
His cool tone sends a wave of heat through her body, and she doesn't think she can attribute it to her current puncture wound.
Hermione's trusty assistant-Healer, James, pops his head through the door. "Miss Granger, is everything alright—"
"Go find my chart," Hermione snaps at the young wizard. "I'll need to see a list of recommendations before I can allow anyone to proceed with any form of treatment."
He scrambles out the door just as fast, and Hermione turns her head to see Ron sending her an incredulous look with his eyebrows raised.
"What?"
"He seems pretty scared of you."
"I am not scary!"
Ron takes a step forward, then another, and then another. The pace of her heartbeat picks up, and she chastises herself for allowing this man to control her bodily reactions.
"What are you doing?" Her breath is shaky and uneven.
Ron leans closer, so close that she smells the aftershave from his chin stubble. He's gazing at her like he's about to...
Just as fast, Ron yanks the icicle from her belly, resulting in a piercing screech from Hermione's lips. Ron flourishes his wand, and Hermione gazes at her stomach in awe as her wound grows smaller and smaller. The traces of fresh blood start to disappear, and the pain dissipates.
"What-you-just—"
"Took out your icicle? Yeah, I did."
Now that she is free of any pain aside from a dull headache, Hermione clenches her fists together out of anger. "Nobody gave you permission to do that!"
"So?"
"But you're not a—"
"Healer?" Ron finishes her thought with a knowing glance. "You know, our professions aren't so different. We both do what we can every day to save lives. It's not about being the best, or having the best marks in school. It's about the people."
Hermione closes her mouth, processing Ron's words. It's like he knows that other colleagues have gone around saying that Hermione has a "hairy heart" — cold and unfeeling.
"You needed my help, and that's what I do. That's what you do. We help people." Ron steps back, choosing instead to sit on the edge of her cot. "So, you're welcome."
Hermione chews on the inside of her lip, contemplating how to save herself from this embarrassing situation.
"You know, you're pretty tough," Ron continues.
Hermione scoffs, pushing her head back into her pillow. "I assure you, I am not."
"Really? Cause I think getting stabbed by an icicle, and still having the energy to yell at people, makes you a bloody badass."
Hermione's eyes go round from Ron's profanity. "A bloody…"
A teasing grin splits across his face. "Oh, don't tell me you're afraid to curse, Miss Granger."
"I am not!"
Ron crosses his arms, arching an eyebrow. "Then prove it. Say you're a bloody badass."
"I—"
Her hesitation only eggs him on further. "Do it."
One deep breath later, Hermione shouts out, "I'm a bloody badass!"
His pearly whites shine through, and Hermione finds the joy etched on his features. "Didn't it give you a rush of adrenaline?"
One exaggerated eye roll later, and Hermione mumbles, "Sure, it did."
"You know, Hermione, you could've been in Gryffindor."
Hermione pivots her head with piqued interest. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, you're brave, for one." Is that a blush she sees on his cheeks? Ron points to the faint outline on her stomach. "You've even got your own battle scar now to prove how tough you are!"
She has never thought of herself as brave, or courageous, or bold enough for that house. But now...
She's distracted by the sound of Ron's wand clicking the lock on the door. Her mouth opens to ask what in Merlin's name he's doing, when she's silenced by his lips on hers.
A startled gasp escapes her mouth, but she finds herself melting into his embrace, letting all rational thoughts leave her brain.
At the start of her work shift, she would've never guessed that she would end it recovering from a severe trauma while also kissing a practical stranger — yet, kissing him didn't feel unnatural at all.
When he pulls away, leaving her flushed dizzy, Hermione exclaims, "I barely even know you!"
Ron Weasley only responds with a challenging smirk and a single word. "So?"
#hpfic#romione ficfest 2021#Romione#ron weasley#hermione granger#Rated T#Ace Safe#cw#cw: traumatic injury#Queue up for the Dragon
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