#this post is about a house on the hill!! at least. right now. i should put it on. loop. sounds so pleasant i must consume it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rollinouttahere-writes · 18 days

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Lucky Break Chapter 6

Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader

3.6 words

Beginning / Previous / Next (to be written)

Sorry that this is a little late and kinda short. On the bright side, the next chapter will be posted a few days early, so there will be less of a wait for the next one.

Unsurprisingly, convincing a bunch of kids that you aren’t actually a band of cannibalistic pirates is not an easy task to accomplish. Especially not when Luffy and Zoro are only adding to it. It only stopped when the old man running the inn interrupted the yelling and terrified screaming to say that no one was eaten.

With that established, the children were shockingly calm now, all things considered. Now that your names were cleared, all of you were lingering outside of the inn.

“Do all pirates make jokes like that?” Ninjin was gawking at Zoro. After realizing that the swordsmen had just been messing with him, his terror had morphed into awe. Now he was seeing Zoro as some hardcore pirate to aspire to be. At least he wasn’t horrendously traumatized.

Zoro rolled his shoulders and shrugged, “The cool ones do.”

The response made you roll your eyes, but it’s not like you were about to waste your precious air trying to scold him. That would truly be a useless cause. He would probably just ignore you entirely.

Luffy tapped one of the kids, Piiman, on the shoulder, “Hey, do you know where that longnose guy went?”

“Usopp?” The green haired boy hummed in thought, “He’s probably visiting Miss Kaya right now.”

“Miss Kaya?” Nami raised an inquiring brow.

“She lives in that huge house on the hill,” Tamanegi pointed at that mansion that Zoro and Nami had asked Usopp about before. Ah, that made sense now. The reason he had gotten so defensive all of a sudden was because he knew the people living there.

Nami didn’t appear to be done with her questions and pressed on, “What’s he doing over there?”

All three of the kids spoke in unison and with great enthusiasm, “Lying!”

“That’s awful!” Nami scolded the children as if she didn’t steal someone’s wallet mere minutes ago.

Ninjin was quick to leap to Usopp’s defense, “Nuh-uh! He goes over there to tell Kaya stories to make her feel better!”

“Feel better? Is she sick?”

Piiman grins proudly, “Yeah, but she’s also been really sad since her parents passed away after getting sick. Usopp tells her all kinds of fun stories to make her smile and laugh!”

Oh my god. If that wasn’t the most wholesome shit you’ve ever heard. Luffy agreed with the sentiment openly, “Oh, so he’s a really good person?” That was putting it mildly. Luffy stepped closer and crouched down next to Piiman, “Can you take us to him? I wanna talk to him again.”

All three of the children agreed and led the way towards the mansion. Your group trailed behind the trio at a leisurely pace, minus Luffy who was bouncing around and checking out every little thing he saw with significant enthusiasm.

The village was, admittedly, quite quaint. You felt charmed by your surroundings. From the looks of it, this was the village’s mainstreet. Various stores spotted either side of the path you were traversing down. A bakery, some carpentry shop, a toy store, and-

You gasp and grab onto Zoro’s arm, “Look! A doctor's office!” Without wasting a second, you run over, dragging Zoro behind you despite his protests. You come to a stop in front of the door and reach forward to open it, only to notice the sign on the door. Out, come back later.

“Shit!” Just your luck that the doctor would be out when you just so happened to be passing by! You kicked the dirt under your feet in frustration. “Do you think the doctor will be back soon?”

“How should I know?” Zoro tugged his arm free and shot you a questioning look, “And why are you dragging me with you?”

Is this guy dense? “Oh, gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you have a stab wound?!”

“I already told you, I slept it off.” The way Zoro rolled his eyes and spoke made it sound like you were the irrational one here. Before you could yell at him that, no, you cannot just sleep off a stab wound, he pulled up his shirt. The wound was where you remembered it being, but something was off. He was stabbed yesterday, but the wound looked like it was a week old, at the least. “See? It’s fine. Quit fussing about it.”

You’re no doctor, but you know that this can’t be right. You stare at him in shock and horror, “What are you?”

Zoro quirked a brow, “A swordsman?”

“More like an X-Men.”

Your words visibly threw him off. He frowned and his eyes narrowed. “A what?”

“A… It’s like…” Not for the first time, you found yourself confused about the meaning of words out of your own mouth. Where did that term come from? You strained yourself to track down what that word meant. “Superpowers? It’s someone with superpowers… I think?”

“So it’s someone with a devil fruit?” You guess that’s about right. Maybe you just got mixed up? You nod at Zoro’s statement. Zoro sighs and fixes his shirt, “Then just say that.”

“Yeah… guess I just got confused.” You scratch the back of your head. Calling your current state of mind confused was the understatement of the century. The mysteries of your mind shall go on to confound you another day.

“Hey! Are you guys coming or not?” Nami had stopped and turned to face you and Zoro with her hands on her hips.

“Come on, maybe the doctor will be back in before we leave this island.” One of Zoro’s hands rested on his swords, while the other was on your upper back and firmly encouraging you to keep walking. Having no reason to object, you go along with it.

The walk to the mansion continues, but you pay very little mind to it now. It was hard to focus on your surroundings when your mind was zeroed in on your failing memory. All of the fragments you were getting were effectively useless, at least as far as you could tell. Well, you suppose there was that inkling of a memory you got back at the restaurant, but you stomped that one out for feeling too uncomfortable. Admittedly, that was probably a stupid move. What were you going to do? Block out your whole life if it turns out it wasn’t great or something worth remembering?

Dwelling on this was far from pleasant, however necessary it may be. You sigh and look around, wanting to scope out where you are now. The town was long gone, and you could see a tall fence not far from where you were, separating the estate behind it from the rest of the community. A ways away from where you guys were was the gate that allowed entrance. Two guards were posted outside of it, and you doubted that they would let your group in.

Tamanegi ran up to the bars of the fence and pointed through them at a tree right next to the home, “See, he’s talking to Kaya over there!”

You step closer to the fence and look where he’s pointing. Sure enough, you can see Usopp sitting on a branch next to a window. There’s a pale, blonde woman in the windowsill, who you’re assuming is Kaya. It’s all well and good that you’ve tracked down Usopp, but it looks like you’re going to have to wait for him to leave before you can talk to him. Sneaking into the estate would be out of the question, obviously.

Then you look over and see that Luffy has stretched his arms to reach the top of the fence and was taking some steps back. His rubbery arms were taught with tension. You gawk at him, not liking the look of this one bit, “What are you doing?”

Rather than anyone trying to answer this question, Luffy keeps stretching his arms while everyone else grabs onto him. Your voice raises, “What are all of you doing?” Nami grabs your arm, forcing you into whatever weird-ass plan was in the works here. You squirm and look around frantically, “What are we doing? What’s the plan here?”

The next thing you knew, Luffy jumped up and used his arms to send all of you sailing over the fence and through the air. Naturally, you’re screaming at the top of your lungs. But the children are too, so at least you aren’t alone in your terror. Instead of landing not far beyond the fence, you guys were maintaining a high speed that was bringing you closer and closer to the home. Mercifully, instead of crashing through the walls like a wrecking ball, you landed mere feet from the structure. People were colliding with the ground all around you. Nami had let go of you at some point, and you fell onto Luffy and then bounced off of him. His body had done a little bit to soften the blow, but it still knocked the wind out of you. You groaned in pain and curled into a ball while trying to catch your breath and make your head stop spinning.

Tamanegi crouched down next to you and poked your shoulder, “Are you okay?” Aside from some grass stains on his clothes, he looked completely fine. Ah, the resilience of youth. Blinking the spots out of your eyes, you force yourself up onto your feet while nodding wordlessly. By the time your ears stop ringing, you can make out Usopp’s voice desperately trying to explain your group’s abrupt arrival.

Kaya was leaning out of her window and staring at all of you with apprehension and confusion. Even with only part of her upper body visible, you could plainly see how frail her build was. The poor thing looked deathly pale, it was honestly more than a little concerning.

“Oh, these guys?! They’re just… my newest crew members!” The high-pitched, nervous laugh Usopp let out did little to help make his case.

“No, we’re not.” Luffy killed that lie instantly and with zero hesitation. He stood up and brushed himself up, seemingly unbothered from you essentially body slamming him. “I wanted to ask you for a favor, actually!”

“A favor? What is it?” Kaya, for whatever reason, was actually entertaining the idea of helping out someone who just slingshotted himself and his cohorts onto her property. What a shockingly understanding person. Luffy started to ask about getting a ship, but was interrupted by someone shouting.

“Who are you people? You aren’t supposed to be here!”

You look over your shoulder and see a tall, slender man in a dark suit rapidly approaching. Judging by his appearance, you feel like you can assume he is a butler or something of the like. The second he yelled, all three of the kids shrieked and hid themselves in your obnoxious looking coat. At least it’s getting some use outside of helping you blend in with clown pirates.

The man adjusted his glasses with the palm of his hand while sneering at all of you, making absolutely no attempt to hide his contempt for your presences. Which, admittedly, is fair given that you guys are actively trespassing. He glared at the large tree by the window before calling out, “Usopp, I know you’re there.”

Usopp slinked out from behind the tree, looking like he would have his tail between his legs if he possessed one. The man stared at him coldly, “Of course someone with as troublesome a reputation as you would be involved.”

Kaya attempted to ease the situation, “Klahadore, please! He doesn’t mean any harm!” That was one hell of a name. It sounded almost comically pretentious.

Luffy was entirely undeterred by the butler’s demeanor. “We just wanted to ask that girl something.”

“You will do no such thing. All of you need to leave immediately.” His eyes narrowed at Usopp, “Especially you. Someone with a father like yours has no business being around Miss Kaya.”

“Excuse me?” Usopp was taken aback by that jagged statement.

“You’re the son of a filthy pirate. It’s distasteful for you to even be in the vicinity of the lady of the house.”

Just like that, any understanding you had for this man being irritated with your group curled up and died. He isn’t a man doing his job, he’s just some classist prick that thinks he’s better than everyone else here.

“Klahadore, stop! That’s enough!” Even Kaya sounded appalled by his behavior.

Her words did nothing to stop Klahadore, who appeared to be taking great delight in this, “You two are from entirely different worlds. I can only assume that you interact with the lady with the intent of gaining something. Money, perhaps?” The accusation stunned everyone into silence, which he took as his cue to continue, “If I’m being quite honest, I pity you. It is truly unfortunate how you’ve been forced to live since your father abandoned his family and home for nothing more than the pursuit of treasure. You must hate him for it, surely.”

Usopp stormed towards Klahadore while Kaya was yelling at her rude-ass butler to stop and apologize for his words. Usopp came to a halt right in front of him, “Don’t you dare talk about my father like that! He’s a good man!”

Klahadore smirked, “Is that what you tell yourself? Another one of your lies, presumably. Though, I suppose that a lot of people would resort to such measures if stuck with a father like that. Well, assuming that he is actually your father.”

In an instant, Usopp’s fist connected with Klahadore’s jaw and sent him back several feet. Your mouth was gaping after hearing all of that. What a dick! Get his ass, Usopp! The kids using your coat for cover all popped their heads out and looked as shocked as you were.

Usopp took several steps forward, shouting at the butler, “Shut up! I am proud of who my family is! I’m proud that my father is a pirate and chasing his dreams! I might lie and tell stories, but I’ve never exaggerated a single thing about how I feel about my blood!”

Klahadore gritted his teeth and got back up, “Just like I thought, you’re a savage that resorts to violence at the drop of a hat. I suppose you must be the son of that pirate, you’re certainly acting as such, and that’s all the proof that I need to assume that you’ve been cozying up to the lady of the house in an attempt to get her fortune.”

“Why you,” Usopp lunged forward and grabbed him by his suit and pulled back his arm like he’s about to deliver another blow.

“Stop, Usopp!” Kaya pleaded desperately with him, “Please, there’s no need for violence. Klahadore isn’t a bad person, he’s just…trying to do what he thinks is best for me.”

You shoot her a questioning look that you’re fairly certain she doesn’t even see. You’re not sure what insulting Usopp’s entire family tree has to do with “doing what’s best for her”. In your humble opinion, Usopp had every right to deck that stuck up prick one more time. Instead, he relented and backed away from him. A shame, really.

“You need to leave this place and never set foot here again.” Klahadore dusted off his clothes and was trying his damndest to look dignified despite just getting his shit rocked by a teenager.

Usopp walked past him, speaking lowly, “Fine. You don’t need to tell me twice.” He stomped away without another word, his shoulder hunched and fists clenched.

In a flurry, the trio taking refuge in your coat sprung out and ran up to Klaha-dick to defend their captain’s honor. Ninjin opened strong by calling him a stupid butler insisting that Usopp would never do any of that. Then all three of them dissolved into chanting ‘stupid head’ at him, so you’re pretty sure he’ll never emotionally recover from this.

Their brave verbal assault crumbled the second that Klahadore looked down at them. In the blink of an eye, they turned tail and returned to the sanctity of your coat. The butler’s gaze scanned over all of you with palpable disdain. He readjusted his glasses and waved an arm dismissively, “All of you need to leave, too.”

You had no problem with that. The less time spent here, the better. You carefully herded the kids hiding in your coat as you walked, which was not an easy thing to do with six more feet right under you, but you’ll manage.

After leaving the estate, you all congregated by a quiet field next to an unpopulated path. The boys have dispersed, mercifully, so you are now perched up on a fence. Luffy ran off a few minutes ago after one of the kids had told him where Usopp may have gone.

The crisp, clean air felt refreshing as you inhaled it deeply. You exhaled and tilted your head back to look up at the sky. In the back of your mind, you wonder if another weapon and mysterious note will fall out of it like in Orange Town. The note… Your hand dips into your coat pocket and digs out the folded up piece of paper. You unfold it and decide to read it again.

“Lucky”

What an interesting event

Losing your memories was not my intent

To aid in your journey

Please take this urumi

“A”

You had hoped that reading it a second time would jog your memory, but it didn’t. You still have no idea who “A” is supposed to be. Were you two supposed to be close? Was this person a mere acquaintance? A weapons dealer with very unique methods? You can’t say.

Suddenly, the paper is plucked out of your hands. Your head snaps up and you see Nami standing next to you. Her brows furrow and she flips the paper over before shooting you a confused look, “Why are you staring at a blank piece of paper?”

What? You stammer as you try to speak, “B… Blank?”

“Yeah? Why are you staring so intently at a blank piece of paper?” Nami was alternating between staring a hole into you and glancing at the paper. Her eyes were looking right where the words were, yet she was seeing nothing? How is that possible?

All you can do is stare for a moment. Then, you laugh nervously and scratch the back of your head, “Oh, right! I was… I wanted to write something down on that, but then I remembered that I don’t have a pen on me!” That sounded dumb as hell.

Nami’s expression reflected that sentiment, “Really?”

“Yeah! You know me, I’m so forgetful!” You force out another unnatural laugh while snatching the paper out of her hand to stuff it back into your pocket. Hazarding another glance at Nami, you saw her looking at you with an extremely doubtful expression. Her stare was hard and it felt like she was seeing right into your soul. Fortunately, she sighed and looked away.

“Alright, whatever you say.”

Something tells you that she’s going to bring this up again later, and you can only hope that you’ll have come up with a better excuse by then. Your mind was running in circles trying to rationalize how insane your most recent revelation was. Apparently, you have a magical piece of paper with words on it that only you can see. Sure! Why not?! This might as well happen with all the other weird shit going on right now! How your situation was able to progressively get weirder and weirder was beyond you, and at this point, you’re afraid of what else is going to happen next.

“Guys! A really weird man is backwards-walking this way!” Tamanegi comes sprinting over the hill spouting off that incredibly ominous warning.

You and your big mouth inside your head. Are you cursed? Are you experiencing the effects of a curse put on you? Hesitantly, you crane your neck to see what he’s talking about. Sure enough, you see a man wearing a blue blazer and a hat moonwalking right at you.

“Michael Jackson?”

The man stops mid moonwalk with one hand grasping his hat. He looks at you like you’re insane- which you may be, but that’s beside the point. The heart shaped sunglasses and weird cylinder-thing on his chin only make his whole vibe even stranger. His glasses slide down a little as he makes eye contact with you, “Michael Jackson? That isn’t even close to my name. I don’t know who that is, but he should only be so lucky as to be compared to me.” His neck snapped around to then regard the children, “And which one of you brats called me weird?! I’m not weird!”

“I’m going to have to side with him, you do seem pretty weird.” Nami was now focused on him, and you hoped this encounter would make her forget about the paper incident.

The totally-not-weird man did what looked like a dance move and glared at Nami, “I’m not! I’m a perfectly normal traveling hypnotist!”

“A hypnotist? That’s so cool! Can you show us something?” Piiman was staring at him hopefully, very much intrigued by the man’s profession. You just rolled your eyes. He was probably a con artist.

“What? You really expect me to show off my abilities to any snot-nosed brat who asks?” The weirdo stoops down to stare menacingly at Piiman. Then, he stands up straight and pulls something out of his pocket, “Very well, watch this ring closely. I’m going to swing this back and forth, and on the count of one, two, Jango, you’ll feel sleepy.” Well, he certainly changes his mind easily.

You quietly snorted but watched the display nonetheless. This guy was absolutely full of shit. Your eyes follow the silver ring that looks suspiciously like a blade as he starts to count.

“One. Two. Jango!”

And then you promptly passed out.

#lucky break #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece #monkey d luffy #luffy #roronoa zoro #nami #cat burglar nami #usopp #captain kuro #kaya one piece #reader insert #x reader #yandere one piece #yandere #platonic yandere

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pedroshotwifey · 8 months

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Manners

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x fem!reader

Word Count: 8.4k

Tags/Warnings: No use of Y/N, Age gap, Slight authority/seniority kink (He's her boss), Slight Sir kink, Oral sex (f and m receiving), piv sex, probably more I'm forgetting about but oh well 🤷‍♀️

Summary: You make a small slip-up and Jack offers to help brush you up on your manners.

A/N: Hello lovely readers! Please keep in mind that even though I have written multiple works at this point, this one is the first one I ever published. As I begin to post some of my more recent fics, you should be able to see a difference in quality overall. I did, however, go back and make edits to this one so that it is better than it would have been if I had posted it in its original state. I hope you enjoy it, and please keep an eye out for the more recent fics I will be posting within the next week or so!

***

The sun is bright in your eyes as you attempt to blink them open for the first time this morning. You can feel the warm rays sneaking through the curtains to crawl over your blanketed form. The birds are singing a sweet song right outside your window, their song slowly stirring you awake. You sigh in contentment at the peaceful scene you woke up to.

It’s definitely one of those mornings where it will be impossible to drag yourself away from your cozy bed. Once you are able to pry your eyes open all the way, you sit up and pull the curtain back a little to admire the landscape of the small ranch you work on.

Being able to wake up and come home to the beautiful view presented by the window beside your bed has quickly become one of your favorite things about this job. Part of your payment is living in the small one-bedroom house stationed on top of one of the few hills on the ranch.

It's not much, but you love the cozy feeling the house gives off. It's absolutely perfect for you and you have made sure to let your boss know how appreciative you are of it. Within the six months that you have lived on the property, you have only talked to the boss a handful of times, and each time he asks you if you are still comfortable living in the cottage.

Even though he told you that you can make any adjustments you want, he still likes to check that it is to your standard. You always tell him that you are perfectly content, and he always makes a point to remind you that you are welcome to move into one of the many rooms of his large ranch house if you ever change your mind.

You have learned that Mr. Daniels is very generous. He seems to genuinely care about the well-being of his employees. Despite his array of offers though, you always choose to stay in the small cottage. You know that he worries about you being secluded, but in reality, you are still in view of the main house. You trust that if anything were to happen, he or another ranch hand would be there in an instant to assist you.

It's true what you tell him; you are perfectly content with the small house, but you have to be honest with yourself. You know that you are turning him down for other reasons as well — annoying reasons that you wish would cease to exist.

About two months in, you made the realization that you are nursing a crush on your boss. By that time though, you had already settled in. You had figured—hoped—the attraction would be a phase. By now, you’ve realized it most certainly was not. In your defense, a few weeks after the realization, it seemed like the crush had passed, faded into nothing more than a tiny tug in your chest when you thought about him. That is until you had to meet up with him for a monthly check-in at least.

You had scolded yourself and tried to ignore the bubbling feeling in your stomach as he talked to you in that syrupy southern drawl you have come to crave. You had a sinking suspicion that you didn't do a very good job of concealing the way you felt. The way the cowboy had smirked at you every now and again during the, in your opinion, much-too-long interaction suggested that he knew exactly what kind of thoughts you had brewing.

If you didn’t know any better, you would dare say that the asshole might enjoy making your face flush bright as a tomato. Sure, the man may be about twenty years your senior, but you can't deny the tension that has begun to build since then.

He seems to have made a game of getting you flustered during meetings, and you have quickly accepted the challenge of keeping your cool as he does so. Unfortunately for you, he usually wins.

You groan as you remember that you need to prepare yourself for the meeting taking place today. You sit up and let your feet dangle off the side of the bed as you stretch your arms into the air, attempting to ease your sore muscles.

Letting your hands back down to rest on your lap, you glance at the clock. It reads 10:41.

Shit

Suddenly awake, you jump out of bed and scramble over to your closet, frantically laying out a work outfit. You are supposed to be meeting Mr. Daniels at 11:00. You had set an alarm to wake you up at 9:30 so you would have time to eat breakfast and tidy up around the cottage before you had to leave. Of course, today would be the day the clock wouldn’t go off.

It takes about five minutes to get to the main house from here, maybe two that if you run, but even then it would still be cutting it close. If there is anything you hate, it's making a bad impression, and being late is one of the best ways to do that.

You know that Mr. Daniels probably won't mind, but you still don't want to be an inconvenience. You are the only female worker on the ranch, and even though Jack always lets you know how much he appreciates your hard work, you still want to stay on top of your responsibilities. You know deep down that you have nothing to prove, but some of the guys can be pretty rude with their unnecessarily sexist comments.

They just love to follow you around and breathe down your fucking neck. Their favorite antic has got to be making you feel like you aren’t capable of picking up bigger loads. “Can I get that for you, Princess?” they ask with stupid smirks, already knowing your answer. You have learned that the best way to deal with that is to give them a smile and kindly assure them that you got it. It’s no fun for them when you don’t feed into it, after all.

Even so, Mr. Daniels is usually pretty quick about shutting “jokes'' about you down, but you can't help but feel like he might see some truth to them. He doesn’t of course - in fact, he constantly tells you that you are one of the best hands he has ever had working for him.

You always soak up any praise he gives you, even though you feel like a giddy schoolgirl sometimes. You swear that man’s comments will ultimately be the death of you.

You check the clock again as you finish tying your hair back and set your hat on your head.

10:54. Perfect.

After you brush your teeth, that should give you enough time to walk down to the house just in time for the meeting to start.

***

Somehow, it ended up being 10:57 by the time you were walking out the door. As you step outside, you can see Mr. Daniels standing outside his house, glancing at his wrist. You furrow your brows as you realize that the rest of the ranch hands are nowhere to be seen. There's no way the meeting is just between the two of you, right? You couldn’t have missed a detail that detrimental… right?

Shaking your head, you start to sprint toward where your boss is standing. The guys will probably be there by the time you reach the house… hopefully. You’re not sure if you can handle Jack Daniels on your own today. It takes you about two and a half minutes for you to get to him, and—much to your chagrin—there’s not another worker in sight.

You inhale deeply as you approach him - you can already feel the butterflies in your stomach with every step you take. He looks exceptionally good today, donned in his signature black stetson. Once you are close, you plaster a smile on your face and pray silently that you made it on time.

“Hello Mr. Daniels,” you say sweetly.

“Good morning sugar,” he says before flashing you a toothy grin. You try to ignore the names he has for you most of the time, though you secretly love the almost nonchalant affection behind them.

You feel your face flush and try to turn your head towards the ground in an attempt to hide it, but you know he saw when you notice his eyes narrow slightly out of the corner of your own. The look sends heat straight into your lower abdomen and you swallow as you look up to meet his gaze again.

“Did nobody else show up?” you ask him, trying to keep your composure.

He chuckles quietly at your question and you suddenly wish your ears would stop working. “No darlin’, I figured we could have a one-on-one meeting this time around—if that's ok with you of course?”

“Oh, um, yea of course, that's just fine Mr. Daniels.” Liar, your brain spits at you.

***

Fortunately for your dignity, the meeting was pretty normal for the most part. Mr. Daniels asked you if you were still comfortable in your cottage, to which you—as always—replied that you love having your own place.

He told you of the tasks he wants you to perform throughout the next couple of weeks and of your expected schedule. He also pointedly reminded you to call him Jack, which you ignored and continued to refer to him in a formal fashion. You didn't need any more personal ties to this man.

After everything that needed to be said was conversed, you both said goodbye and began to part ways.

You let out a deep breath, silently congratulating yourself for not slipping up as you turn your back to your boss. Maybe everything will be fine.

“Oh, and honeybee?” You hear Mr. Daniels' question come from behind you and tense back up immediately. There was something about the way he said it, almost like it was coming through a smirk, that made your eyes grow wide.

You spin back around to find the cowboy standing in place with his back to you.

“Yes, Mr. Daniels?” Your voice comes out squeakier than you expect and you grimace at the sound.

“You were a minute late today, hon.”

Shit. You let your eyes flutter shut and attempt to gulp down your anxiety as he continues. Of course the bastard would point something like that out, he’s well aware of how big you are on that kind of thing.

“Now don’t worry, you ain’t in trouble, darlin’,” he says much too confidently for your liking, “but just so we can assure it won’t happen again, maybe you should swing by the house tonight so we can brush you up on your manners.”

Unable to speak, you stare at your boss’s now descending form with an open jaw. Did you hear that right?

The asshole must know that you are still rooted to the spot he left you in because he cranes his neck to say “You’re free to go for now doll, i’ll see ya at 8:00,” he says before sending you a wink and turning back around.

You quickly close your jaw and turn on your heel towards the barn. Your heart is racing much too quickly in your chest as you approach your first task of the day.

***

Getting through the day was absolutely agonizing. You love your job and find most of the tasks you have to do decently easy, but the conversation from this morning has been running through your mind non-stop.

Brush up on your manners...

You wanted to hate him for his blunt suggestion, but you realized about halfway through the day what he actually meant by it. At least, what you hope he actually meant by it. You have been pushing your excitement down all day and it has evidently been landing between your legs.

At this point, as you trek back to your house to freshen up, you can feel your core throb with every agonizing step. This man has had you on edge all day and you are frustrated to no end.

Brush up on your manners...

You'll show him. You'll show him just how sweet you can be… Or maybe you won't…

The thought of being defiant sends a wave of excitement over your entire body. What would he do then? Would he decide to punish you for your bad behavior?

You'll have to decide how you will act on the way to his house. You put on a wicked grin as you begin to rustle through your closet for some presentable clothes. What Jack didn’t realize is that he accidentally put the ball right into your court.

You almost can't believe this is actually happening. As you sit down to put some mascara and lipstick on, you pinch yourself to make sure this isn't all a dream.

As you slip on your flowy sundress and boots, you are sure you will open your eyes any minute now. As you lock the door to your cottage, you expect to be waking up in your bed.

***

It really sinks in that what you are doing is real as you raise your fist to knock gently on your boss’s front door. Your nerves feel like they are on fire and you almost decide to turn around and forget all about it. Before you have the chance to change your mind, however, the door in front of you is being swung open to reveal the devilishly sexy grin hidden behind it.

“Hello again, sugar,” he says after you stand there for a second, “I was hoping you would take me up on my offer.”

You try to speak but find your voice caught in your throat, so you just nod and try to send him what you hope is a feasible smile. Without another word, he smiles back and moves to the side to gesture you into the house.

Once inside, you decide to test your voice again. “Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Daniels,” you say as he shuts the door behind you, formal as ever.

“Well of course honey,” he says in a tone much too cocky for your liking, “and look at you, already puttin’ those manners to use.”

You flush a dark shade of crimson when you find yourself at a lack of words once again. Fortunately, Jack takes that as his cue again and moves in closer, backing you into the wall behind you. You don't stop him as he steps into your personal bubble and reaches a hand toward your face.

He smirks as he feels you shudder when his large hand finds your cheek. You bite your lip to stop the sound that threatens to escape. His palm feels so warm against you, and you feel so tiny in comparison as you look up into his dark eyes.

You see the mischievous twinkle in his eye as he grasps your chin more firmly to bring your face up to his just slightly. You sneak a quick glance at his plush lips that are now mere inches from your own. It would be so easy to just lean in a bit and-

“Now, sugar,” Mr. Daniels says, interrupting your thoughts, “for the purposes of tonight, you can call me sir. Understand?”

Your eyes widen slightly at his command and you try to nod your head as much as you can with his hand still gripping your chin. Yup, you were definitely right in your earlier assumption. Your knees feel weak, threatening to give out. The sensation distracts you for a moment and when you come back into focus you find Jack looking at you expectantly.

“Let's try that again, doll,” he says as he digs his fingers into your chin ever so slightly. You swallow as you watch him tilt his chin up to look down at you. His mouth drops open into a thin smirk as he raises his eyebrows. You feel your legs buckle underneath you again and you would probably fall if not for his hand propping you up.

“Understand?” he repeats, clearly wanting a verbal response. Likely wanting your consent so he can be sure you’re of with the way things are going. You would be damned if you weren’t.

“I-” you stop when he gives your chin a warning squeeze, it isn’t hard, but it’s enough to give you the hint

“Yes sir,” you manage to get the words out. They were high-pitched and shaky, but you were surprised you were able to speak at all.

Your eyes close slowly as he lowers his head back down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, rewarding you for catching on.

“Good girl,” you shudder and bite back a moan at his gentle praise.

Your eyes land on his lips as you open them again. You stare for a little longer than you probably should before you meet his gaze again. You can't help it, they just look so warm and inviting. You picture them enveloping your own.

When he sees you look away from his lips, he loosens his grip once more and leans in close enough to nudge his face next to yours, almost as if he were going to nibble your ear.

“Would if be okay if I kissed you, baby?” he asks, voice barely a whisper. A shiver racks through your spine at his words combined with the feeling of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You start to nod before you remember what he wants you to do. You want to scold yourself for giving in so easily, but you block that thought out as you feel him start to pull back. Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest as you stare into his deep chocolate eyes. You hate him for making you say it, but you do it anyway.

“Yes sir,” your voice is just as quiet as his, if not more.

He closes the distance before you even realize you spoke the desperate words out loud. You close your eyes and slot your lips against his. It feels like absolute euphoria as you melt into the heated kiss. It's sloppy and uncoordinated, but automatically you decide it is the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You moan as his tongue slips past your lips, giving you a taste of what you can only describe as Jack. His lips are the perfect combination of soft and chapped and you can't help but give in completely to him. If given the option, you would stand here and kiss this man until the day you die.

You sigh as you feel his hand release your jaw and make its way down your body to rest on your hip. Shortly after, you feel his fingers run through your hair to grasp the base of your skull, pulling you deeper into the passionate kiss. Your own hands begin to cling onto his clothes, wanting to be as close as possible to him.

Suddenly, he pulls away, his palms stationed firmly on your hips and on teh back of your neck. You look into his eyes and you can see the hunger lingering in his stare. His pupils are blown with desire and you can feel the way they must mirror your own.

“Let me taste you?” He asks you, desperation clear in his voice as he nearly begs.

You nod feverishly in your lust-drunken state, not entirely sure what he just asked. All you know is that with the admiration this man is looking at you with, you would be a fool to deny him anything he asked for.

You can see the way he shifts, clearly wanting to get to whatever you had just consented to. He stops though, smirking as he seemingly remembers something.

“Try again sugar,” he tells you. You immediately know what he wants.

“Y-yes sir,” you say quickly, not sure how the words came out that fast. As soon as you say it, Jack begins to move again. You sober quickly as you watch the fierce man in front of you sink to his knees, letting his large hands run down your sides as he does so. Once settled, he looks up into your wide eyes and wets his lips. His eyes look heavenly as he beams at you with adoration.

You snap back to reality and feel the blood rush up to your cheeks as you finally realize what he had asked you. Still drunk on his kiss, you had answered him before you gave yourself a chance to think about it.

“Want to see if you taste as sweet as I've imagined, darlin’.”

Before you get the chance to respond, he leans forward to press a kiss over your clothed mound. He darts his tongue out to flick your clit, somehow knowing exactly where it is.

You involuntarily buck your hips to his face as your hands fly to rest on his broad shoulders. It's a new sensation—a welcome one for sure—but new nonetheless. You aren’t inexperienced, but you haven’t had many lovers, and none of them had ever been generous enough to go down on you.

“Oh f-fuck!” The expletive flies from your mouth as he repeats the action. He pulls back and you watch him grin against your thigh before pressing a sof kiss to the fabric covering it.

You feel your dress being bunched up in one of his fists, but he doesn't raise it yet. Figuring he probably wants your permission, you look down at him and give him a shaky nod.

When he sees the confirmation, he sends you another smirk that shoots straight down to your cunt. You bite your lip as you feel your dress rise up past your panties.

It's been a while since you had any sexual encounter, and you feel exposed until you see the pure lust in Jack's eyes; how could you ever feel uncomfortable under a gaze like that?

“Fuck darlin,” he says, eyeing your lacy black panties. “You put these on just for me?”

“Y-yes sir,” you say. He seems satisfied with your response as he extends the hand that's not holding your dress up to run a finger through the wet patch between your legs.

“Oh sugar, you been thinkin’ ‘bout me?” He asks you when he feels the wetness beginning to pool through the lace fabric.

“Yes sir,” you tell him truthfully. “All day.” You figure you have no shame left, might as well just tell it as it is. Though you are trying to sound confident, your voice sounds soft even in your ears.

You can tell by the way Jack's eyes glow when you admit your thoughts that he finds your nervousness arousing.

“Alright sugar, I'll tell you what,” he says as his thumb absently traces circles on your thigh. “I think you have been such a good girl for me so far…” To your embarrassment, you whimper at his praise.

“I want you to use my real name when I have you screaming for me.”

When you don't say anything, he looks up to meet your flushed face. Your mouth is dropped open slightly at his casual suggestion and your face feels like it's on fire.

He gives you no more warning as he smirks and hooks your panties to the side before shoving a finger into your dripping hole in one swift motion. You squeeze your eyes shut and relish in the feeling of having something filling you up. You immediately want more, and you tell him as much.

He chuckles darkly at your desperation as he begins to pump his finger in and out at a painfully slow pace.

“Remember your manners, doll,” he reminds you. You groan in frustration but comply with his request.

“Shit, please Jack, please give me more.” Your words sound rushed as they spill from your kiss-swollen lips. yup, all dignity out the window.

He approves your request by dipping another finger into your wet heat, but he does nothing about the speed in which he moves his hand. Despite the pace, you can feel the tension in your abdomen begin to build up embarrassingly quickly as he rubs against that spongy place you can never reach.

One of your hands leaves his shoulder to tangle in his hair. You whimper at the friction you have been craving all day and try to grind down on his digits in an attempt to reach that sweet spot deep inside you again.

You want to scream when he quickly extracts his fingers.

“Now darlin’, you gotta be patient if you want me to reward you.” He sends you a flashy smirk as he teases your entrance with the pad of his middle finger, applying just enough pressure to make it seem like he’s going to breach you again, but he never does. You shiver at the feeling. Bastard.

“Yes sir, I'll be good,” you promise him eagerly.

“Know you will be, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he mutters mostly to himself as his fingers split you open once again. He sets a faster pace this time, and you can feel the coil in your belly getting ready to snap. You feel his mouth envelope your throbbing clit through your panties and you let out a whiny moan.

“I- fuck Jack, im close,” you breathe out in pure ecstasy. At your unworded request, he adds a third digit and begins to pump his fingers at a near-brutal pace. You can feel a sheen of sweat beginning to cover your body. Just a few strokes away now…

He takes his mouth away but continues his attack with his fingers. He tilts his head up to watch your teary-eyed expression, your mouth slightly agape. He chuckles quietly at how fast he was able to find the spots that make you squirm for him.

“Now doll, here's where we work on that timing,” he starts. You barely register what he says through your haze, but you get the gist of it and furrow your brows. When he sees your confusion, he fills you in.

“You want to come, honey?” he asks you nonchalantly.

“Oh, yes sir,” you squeak as you feel a tear run down your cheek; you’re so close, you don’t want him to deny you again. “Yes, yes, please let me come.” your eyes flutter closed from the pure pleasure he is bringing you with just his hand.

“Okay, sweetheart, that's what I thought.” you’re not sure if you like the playfulness in his tone.

“I'm going to do a countdown for you,” he starts. “When I reach ‘one’, you can come.” Your eyes fly open faster than they had closed.

“Jack,” you try not to sound whiny as you protest. “Jack, I-I don't know if I can—I don't know if I can do that!” The grin that spreads onto his face is absolutely wicked—he has you right where he wants you.

“Well hon, you're just gonna have to, ain’t ya?” he tells you. “I'll have no choice but to punish you if you come too soon or too late.” Your eyes grow wide but you can't deny the curiosity that breaches your mind at what his idea of “punishment” might be.

“I believe you can do it darlin’,” he encourages you before you have the chance to protest. You know he would stop if you asked him, but that would be the only way out—and he would be stopping completely. You are so close, like Jack said—you can do this.

You swallow and nod down at him, signaling your agreement. By now, he has slowed down his pace drastically, and you would do anything to have his fingers abusing your cunt again.

“Okay, let's start then,” he says through his toothy grin. “I'm gonna to go from five.” Seeing you nod again, he brings his mouth back to work at your still-covered clit.

“Five.” You keen sharply as he mouths at your clit, prodding the bundle of nerves with his skilled tongue.

“Four.” you aren't sure if you are going to have enough control to make it to one. It feels almost painful knowing that you have to wait for permission.

“Three.” “There you go hon, so close now.”

“Two.” your breathing picks up and you can't help but let the high pitched moans barrel out as you focus on holding your release. You want to beg for his permission, but you know your best bet is to wait it out.

“One.”

Jack sucks hard on your clit as you scream his name. Your vision goes white and you suddenly feel like you’re floating. The intense orgasm seems to last forever, you’ve never felt anything so blissful in your life.

“There you go sugar,” you hear Jack's giddy voice coming from a faraway place. “Scream my name as loud as you need to.”

Other than the shudders that wrack your body, you are barely aware of anything else around you. It feels like you are suspended in another dimension. You can feel your juices running down your thighs and hear Jack happily slurping them up, muttering gentle praise into your sex.

“Did so good for me honey bee,” he tells you, “Right on time’.”

It seems like an hour has passed by the time you are finally able to open your eyes and look down at the man on his knees before you. It takes you a second to notice, but once your vision comes back all the way, you can see droplets of wetness make their way down Jack's face to drip off of his nose and chin.

Holy Shit…

Your eyes widen in time with your jaw as you begin to piece together what happened. You keep your gaze on Jack while you figure it out. He looks almost as blissed out as you do with his hooded eyes and his mustache covered in your slick.

“Oh my god Jack,” you say, feeling your face turn red. “I didn't…”

The smirk on his face widens and he opens his mouth to shove his fingers inside. He closes his mouth as he suckles on them and then pulls the digits out with a wet pop.

“Oh yes you did honey,” he says after he opens his eyes to meet yours. “And you taste just as divine as you looked while you squirted all over my hand.”

“Now let Jack finish cleanin’ you up sugar.” With that, he dips his head back down to lap at your sensitive folds. You buck your hips when you feel him graze your over-sensitive clit,

“Let's get these the rest of the way off, sweet thing,” he chuckles darkly as he slides his finger back and forth across the band of your ruined panties.

Not knowing what to say, you nod and step back for him. You start to bend down to take your shoes off before you slide your panties down, but you’re stopped as you feel him lightly tap the outside of your thigh.

Meeting your curious expression, he shakes his head slightly and shifts to one knee before tapping the one he had popped up, gesturing for you to place your foot there.

You want to swoon over him for how much of a gentleman he can be even though he was just knuckle-deep in your cunt. You shoot him a bashful smile as you comply with his silent request and gently place your foot on his raised leg.

He returns the smile before sliding your shoe off and caresses your calf while he sets it off to the side. He motions for you to switch legs and you watch as he repeats the motion with that one as well.

Once you have both feet planted back on the ground, Jack reaches up to hook his fingers into the sides of your waistband. He slowly slides the now soaked garment down your bare legs, being careful not to leave any residue on your skin.

Once they are discarded next to your shoes, he stands back up to his full height. He gently slides both of his hands onto your face and brings you in to lock you in a bruising kiss.

“What do you say, doll?” He asks you once he pulls back. You smile at him, proud of yourself for knowing exactly what he wants.

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him bashfully. He beams at your quick learning and moves one of his hands to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “My pleasure, honey.”

It's your turn to smirk up at him as you begin to descend onto your knees. He looks down at you with a look somewhere between amusement and confusion as you settle into a comfortable position.

“Aw sugar,” he tells you, running his fingers through your hair. “You don't have to do that.”

You put up at him in a mocking manner and stop your hands halfway to his belt buckle. “Please sir, I want to,” you tell him. You watch as his brows narrow slightly and his eyes grow darker.

“What exactly do you want, honey bee?” he asks you, though the bastard knows exactly what you mean. You decide to play along with his game anyway.

“I want to make you feel good, sir,” you say, looking up at him through your thick eyelashes. “Will you let me?”

He continues smoothing your hair down as he slowly nods at you, giving you permission. You hear his breath catch in his throat as your hands find his buckle.

You bite your lip as you anxiously fumble with the heavy thing. Once unclasped, you unzip his pants and tug them down just enough to see the large bulge in his boxers. He smirks as he notices your eyes widen at the size of it.

“You can do it, honey,” he rests his free hand back on your cheek as he assures you. You lean into his touch and gently take his thumb into your mouth, suckling lightly. His skin tastes heavenly and you hum in anticipation of how good his cock must be.

Maintaining eye contact, you reach out and give him a small squeeze through his boxers. He groans at the touch and you smirk as you reach into his waistband and tug his hardened dick out.

You give him a couple of jerks and watch the way his face twists with pleasure before you look down. He chuckles when he hears you gasp as your gaze trails downwards.

Holy shit.

He's fucking huge. Sure he's got length, but his girth is what has your eyes growing wide. You swallow as you look back into his eyes.

“Like what you see?” He asks, amusement clear in his voice. You roll your eyes as you give him another short tug. You let your thumb run over his tip, spreading precum over the head.

You smirk as he shudders above you. You lean forward to dart your tongue out over his slit, tasting the saltiness of it. He lets out a strained groan at the contact. “Like what you feel?” You ask him innocently. You look up to meet his now blazing stare.

“Now doll,” he pauses as he rubs your cheek. “That's one dangerous game you just started,” he says slowly. You swallow at his menacing tone.

“And I hope you are prepared to play it.”

With that, he grasps your chin, making your mouth fall open as he brings your face toward his heavy cock. He watches your expression to make sure you don't want to stop before he guides his stiff length into your mouth.

He wastes no time as he shoves himself all the way down your throat, not giving you the chance to take him slowly. Your nose nuzzles into the dark curls at the base of his cock as you try not to choke.

He doesn't move yet, allowing you to get used to the feeling. You try not to gag as you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. You close them, letting the liquid stream down your cheeks as you swallow, trying to adjust yourself.

“Ah fu-“ Jack stutters as he feels your throat convulse around his length. “There you go s-sugar, just like that.”

You bathe in the way the blissed-out way Jack's eyelids start to droop and his mouth falls open the tiniest bit as you start to move your head back and forth. A strangled groan spills from his lips when you move back and circle your tongue around his tip before sliding back down to the base.

You feel him set his hand on your head, not pushing or pulling you in any way, just resting it there. There's a glint in your eyes as you look up at him and put your hand on top of his, pushing lightly.

Jack's eyes widen as he realizes what you are insinuating, but you can see the desire behind his expression.

“Shit- I-“ he fumbles over his words, "you sure sweetheart? I ain’t gonna be gentle.” You nod up at him as much as you can and push his hand in encouragement again.

“Alright darlin’,” he stares down at you with adoration, “tap my thigh if you need me to slow down.”

You can tell he has been trying to hold himself back, and you feel your wetness start to drip down your thighs as his face relaxes. He takes over your movements as he presses on the back of your head experimentally.

You give him complete control and submit to his request, putting your tongue out flat as he pushes you down his thick length. You moan out in pleasure at the thought of him having complete control and his cock twitches at the sound.

His actions start slow, but gradually build up as he begins to chase his high. He whispers praise to you in between moans as he fucks your mouth.

As you watch him, you think that the expression he makes when he is consumed with pleasure might be the best thing you have ever seen—better than the view from your cottage window. You hum around him, sending vibrations through his whole body.

“Oh, fuck!” You can feel yourself growing wetter the more Jack struggles to keep his composure. “S-Shit sugar, I'm gonna need t’ stop if you want me to be able to take care of you right.”

You whimper at the thought of his cock slamming in and out of your pussy and you feel more slick dripping down your legs. You squeeze your thighs shut, trying to get some friction to relieve the ache on your throbbing clit.

Knowing he's close, Jack pulls you off of him with a growl. He grins as he hears you whine at the loss.

“Now darlin’,” he starts. “There will be plenty of chances to do that again, for now though,” you watch as his eyes somehow grow darker still. “I want to feel that tight cunt around my cock.”

You can't stop the moan that escapes from your lips upon hearing his dirty words. You must be dripping onto the floor at this point, but you don't care. All you care about right now is Jack staying true to his word.

Hearing your desperate moan ignites something feral in him, and before you even realize what he was doing, you are slung over his shoulder, ass in the air, as he strides into his bedroom.

He flings you on the bed as soon as he enters the threshold and immediately goes to work pulling off his boots. You sit there stunned as he starts fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his perfectly tanned skin.

He glances up at you through his haze to see your shocked expression, and you watch as a lopsided smirk overtakes his features.

“You gonna strip or what, honey?” He asks you in a teasing tone as he continues undressing.

You roll your eyes and grin as you feel your blood rushing to your cheeks. As he looks back down to concentrate on the last few buttons on his shirt and you take that as a cue to tug your dress off.

Left in only your bra, you take that off too as Jack is tugging off his pants. Donned in only his boxers, he looks back at you and you watch his eyes rake over your naked form.

His smile falters and you think for a second that you did something wrong.

“You are so damn beautiful darlin’,” he says, easing your worried thoughts. You smile

sheepishly as he starts to walk towards the bed.

He leans over the side, wedging one of his knees between your own as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses up the column of your throat. You tilt your head up to allow his access and shiver as he brushes along your pulse point.

“Jack,” you say in a whiny tone, not really sure what you're asking him for. He seems to know better than you do though, because he lifts his lips up to yours as he slides a hand down between your bodies.

You moan into his mouth as he uses two fingers to lightly circle your clit. The kiss turns sloppy and you bring your arms up to circle around his neck, pulling him in closer.

He moves the fingers from your clit to tease at your sopping cunt. He slides them in one at a time and you keen underneath him, making his cock twitch in his boxers. His erection is almost painful now, but he wants to get you ready for him before he gives in to his urges.

You feel yourself climbing closer to the edge as Jack adds a third finger and begins to work at your swollen bud with his thumb. He can feel you writhing below him and he smiles into your mouth, proud of the way your body reacts to his touch.

“Jack, im gonna-“ You don’t get to finish the warning as you feel him flick his thumb over your clit, pushing you over the edge. Your whole body shakes with pleasure as you mewl into Jack's lips.

Your eyes roll back and you feel yourself clench around Jack's fingers, causing a guttural groan to escape from him. He pumps his fingers in and out, easing you through your high.

As you still, you lay your head down fully on the mattress and look into Jack's eyes. You feel like a schoolgirl as you smile lopsidedly at him, giving you an eager grin in return.

“You ready, darlin’?” he asks. You take a deep breath and nod at him. He leans down to plant small kisses on your forehead and on the tip of your nose as he pushes himself off of the bed to shed his boxers.

You scootch back a little, giving him more room as he climbs back up. Your stomach flips as you look into his eyes, feeling one of his hands come up to rest next to your head.

He dips down for another kiss and you feel the head of his cock find its way to your entrance. You suck in a breath as he begins to slowly push himself into your dripping heat.

“Oh- fuck baby girl,” he groans as he pushes deeper. You feel the hand near your head clench the sheets beside you as he sheaths himself to the hilt. His size takes your breath away and you are grateful when he pauses to let you adjust.

The stretch pinches, making you scrunch your eyes shut. When you open them again, you find Jack looking at you, concern written on his face.

He furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head, silently asking if you are okay to continue. You know that he would stop in a heartbeat if you wanted to, and the thought immediately makes you more comfortable.

It warms your heart to think about how much of a gentleman Jack really is underneath that tough exterior, and how lucky you are to be able to experience this side of him.

“Start moving,” you tell him after the pain begins to dull. You watch his features relax as he pulls back out halfway before gliding back in. You appreciate how gentle he's being, at least until you can get used to the feeling of being stuffed so full.

“Your wish is my command, sweet pea,” he tells you, sending you a wink. The pain from earlier quickly turns to pleasure as Jack continues his gentle movements. You moan loudly as he hits something devastating inside you, spurring him on.

“Ah- fuck, Jack!” You scream his name as he begins to speed his movements up. You can feel every vein and ridge sliding on the walls of your soaked cunt. Already, tension begins building in your belly as he starts to ruthlessly pump his cock in and out of you.

The room is filled with both of your moans combined with the lewd squelching noises coming from where your bodies connect. It sounds like pure ecstasy. You can hear Jack's breath growing heavier with each thrust.

You decide as he lets out a whine that there is nothing sweeter than the sounds Jack Daniels makes when he's buried deep inside of you. His noises fuel you and you can hear your moans growing breathier as he pulls you closer to the edge.

You watch a bead of sweat slip down the side of Jack's forehead as he draws back until only the head of his cock is breaking you open. Before you get the chance to figure out what he's doing, he slams himself back into you.

You try to scream but find that all the breath had been knocked out of you with the force of his thrust. Tears of pleasure brim your eyes as he repeats his action, faster this time.

Your arms slip under his own and you claw at his back as you get closer to release. You let out a moan as Jack grabs your thigh and throws one of your legs over his waist, allowing him to hit depths you didn't even think possible.

“Such a -fuck- such a sweet damn pussy d-darlin’,” Jack praises. You almost come right then and there.

“S-so good, Jack,” you say through a whimper as he continues his brutal pace. “Fuck!” You scream when he slams into a sweet spot.

“M’ gon- gonna come, Jack,'' you tell him. He smirks and snakes a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit. There's no way you're going to last between the new position and the assult on your sensitive bud.

“Go ahead darlin’,” He tells you as he lowers his head to slot his lips between your own, locking you into a messy kiss. “Let go for me.”

That's all it takes for you to fall apart underneath him. Your eyes roll back and you feel your legs turn to jello as you come on Jack's cock. He continues to whisper sweet praise into your ear as he works you through your climax.

You feel his movements grow sloppy and uncoordinated as you come down from your high.

“S-Shit, honey,” Jack gasps, “not gonna last.”

He gives about another half dozen thrusts before he's asking you “Where?”.

You don't answer him, and instead lift your other leg to wrap around his waist, bringing him into you. You whimper at the thought of filling you up and it pushes him over the edge. He stills and you feel the gush of warm seed spread throughout your cunt.

The moan he lets out is absolutely feral as he releases inside of you, making your toes curl. You squeeze around him, milking rope after rope of cum from his cock. You stare into each other’s eyes as you bring your arms up around his neck to pull him down to you again.

You bring your lips against his, closing your eyes as you both share the gentlest and most intimate kiss of the night. He lowers his body to lay on top of yours, being careful not to put all of his weight on you as he pulls away from the kiss to position his head next to your ear.

“Fuckin’ perfect darlin’,” he says gently. “Thank you.”

You smile at the ceiling as you wrap your arms tight around him, holding him close. You both lay there for a few minutes as your bodies begin to relax, you slotting your fingers through his hair, and him whispering sweet praises into your ear.

He leans up to brush his lips against yours one more time before grunting and pulling out of you. You grimace first at the loss and then at the feeling of your combined release leaking out of your worn cunt. Your attention is dragged away from the feeling when you hear Jack flick the bathroom light on.

He is only gone for a second before he returns with a warm cloth, using it to swipe along your folds, cleaning you up. You wince as the fabric runs along your sensitive clit. “Sorry, darlin’,” he chuckles a quiet apology. You squint at him but when you make eye contact you can't help but giggle too.

Smiling, Jack gets back up to dispose of the cloth before he comes back to bed and lays down beside you, pulling you into him so you can set one of your legs over his and place your head on his chest. You hum in delight as he starts to pepper feather light kisses into your hair.

“Not so bad for an old man,” you tease him. You feel him smile against your hair as he breathes in your sweet scent.

“Hey now,” he says in the same teasing tone, “it's starting to sound like you didn't learn anything from your lesson.”

You laugh as you roll yourself over to straddle his hips.

“Well,” you say as you look into his hooded eyes, “I've always said I learn my lessons better the second time around.” He smirks at you and grabs your hips, bearing you down to his already half-hard cock and you whimper quietly.

“That can be arranged, sugar,” he tells you as he scoots back against the headboard. “This time we’ll see how well you can follow instructions.”

#fan fiction #pedro pascal #ao3 #agent whiskey #smut #pedro pascal smut

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years

Text

Cold Water

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: best friends should always be honest with each other

Synopsis: You and your best friend are at odds when you learn that he kept his new girlfriend a secret from you on purpose

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @fallon-carrington123 (I incorporated the first part of your request. Part 2 is where I’ll add the rest!)

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Read My Superstar first

It had been maybe a week or so since you learned the news of Urban having a girlfriend for two months over an instagram post. Safe to say that you were hurt because he didn’t tell you and it didn’t seem as if he was going to mention it until he got caught.

You and Urban have been close since the time the two of you were 14 when you both met and you simply shared everything with him. Even if it had to do with your beloved husband.

You know had a three week break from tour and you were back at home with Jack and Urban. However, the tension in the house was at an all time high because you had been giving Urban the silent treatment. The rest of PG were also there and you were all sitting around having a movie marathon and eating some homemade pizza that you had made for them.

PG didn’t want to say anything regarding you and Urban and figured that the two of you would work it out yourselves.

You two literally couldn’t live without the other so they knew you would make up soon.

You got up to go into the kitchen to refill your lemonade when Urban walked in to confront you.

He was over you ignoring him and wanted to fix this or at least attempt to.

“This shit stops right now. We need to talk about this.” You heard him say from behind you as you were finishing pouring the lemonade in your cup. You rolled your eyes before turning around to look at him.

“You lied to me! We have been friends for ten years! I have never lied to you about anything or kept something from you because guess what? You’re my best friend and best friends don’t do that!”

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you? Honestly?”

“I’m all ears, Wyatt. The fact that you told the rest of them before me and they met her? You even told Neelam before me! Like what the actual fuck?”

“BECAUSE YOU HAVE LITERALLY RUINED EVERY SINGLE RELATIONSHIP THAT I’VE BEEN IN!”

“What?!? No, I haven't Urban! That is complete bullshit!”

“You sure about that? Let me pull the receipts.”

“Is it my fault that no one that you’ve dated has been good enough for you!? My best friend deserves the best!”

“How can I find that if you keep running them off?!”

“Urban, Jessica was rude as hell every time we went out and didn’t give two shits about her attitude. The way she would speak to people was insane.”

“Damn, sounds like you’re talking about yourself. I’m going to need for you to stop being a hypocrite.”

“Urb! I am not rude! I never have been!”

“But your attitude could use some work! You never see the fault in what you do! EVER!”

“THAT IS NOT TRUE! What about Reina?! She dated you only to become closer to Jack and I don’t know why that was her goal simply because he’s married to me! She wasn’t thinking about you! She did not have your best interest!”

“But you didn’t have to fight her either! Let’s not forget the girls you ran off because of how you act and the fact that they didn’t get your approval! It’s like they see how you are and run for the hills!”

“You’re my best friend and I am always going to protect you!”

“You can do that without constantly being on my ass all the time, Y/N! Like damn let me breathe! Last time I checked I was a grown ass man who could take care of himself!”

“But….”

And that’s when the tears started to fall.

Meanwhile PG was standing to the side of the doorway out of both of your line of vision listening to the heated exchange happening between you and Urban.

“Uhh, Jack? Maybe you should intervene.” 2fo said while looking over at him.

“Absolutely not. They need to work this out themselves. I can’t always run and save the day every time she has a disagreement with someone. She’s an adult. Now if anything disrespectful was said that’s a different story.”

“But, Urb is kinda making some valid points. She is very protective of all of us but especially him.” Shloob confessed with car keys in hand just in case he had to make a quick exit.

“True, like sometimes I don’t say certain things around her because I don’t know how she’s going to react.”

“We all know that she doesn’t tolerate bullshit and only wants the best for us.”

“Yeah, but like Urb said she has to let us breathe and not be on our backs all the time.”

“Urban! Why can’t you see how much I care about you?!”

“I do and I’m going to need for you to stop crying because you are always playing the victim and I’m tired of it. Any time someone says something you don’t like or they’re telling you about yourself you get upset and cry. Grow the fuck up. Don’t you think I eventually want what you and Jack have? How am I supposed to do that if you literally run off every girl that I show interest in?”

All you did was simply look at him speechless with tears rolling down your face.

Your intentions were always pure when it came to Urban or anybody in PG who had gotten a girlfriend. You wanted for them to be on the same level as them and not settle for less.

Your feelings were hurt to think that Urban believed that you would intentionally do that to him.

All you wanted was to see your best friend happy.

“Then I’m sorry for caring and loving my best friend and wanting for him to have what he deserves. You won’t have to worry about me doing that anymore.”

“Wait, Y/N….”

Urban tried to catch your hand as you walked past him but you quickly snatched away from him. PG scrambled to go back to their places on the couches in the living room but you knew that they had been listening.

Jack saw your face full of tears and was now kind of annoyed with Urban for making you cry even if he had been right.

“Baby…”

“I.. just need a minute.”

You went upstairs and simply laid down and cried at what just happened.

The two of you had never argued or gotten into disagreements the entire ten years that you had been friends.

This hurt and it was never your intention to keep Urban from finding someone to be with.

But if he felt that you weren't doing any good by hovering over him, consider it done.

You just wanted to make sure that it was someone who wanted Urban for him and not anything else.

Why couldn’t he understand that?

It had been about another week or so since the huge blow up between you and Urban and it was safe to say that the silent treatment was continuing.

Well you couldn’t exactly call it that seeing as if he asked you something, you did answer him but simply left it at that.

To avoid all of this Urban had been spending more time with Yasmin who you still had yet to meet.

You figured it would happen eventually, but you weren't in any rush since he told you that you had ruined every relationship that he had been in previously so you continued to keep your distance.

It was around 11 am when PG decided that they wanted to go play laser tag and wanted for you to join them.

“Y/N, I need you on my team because you're little and you can hide and do sneak attacks.” Ace said but you kept a neutral face.

“No, I’m already doing something.”

“Wait, what? You’ve been dodging us all week! Come with us!”

"If I wasn't already doing something, I would."

"Well if we get dinner later are you coming?"

You simply shrugged.

"If I get finished maybe but I don't know." You honestly answered before going back upstairs and getting ready to meet Megan in the studio.

You had written a song for her to put on her new album and wanted to record it today in the hopes of getting your mind off everything else.

Once you were out of earshot everyone turned towards Urban.

"Will you two make up already!? And you can tell she's upset!"

"I tried to explain why I did it but of course she doesn't see anything wrong in what she did."

"Urb, you know how she is. You more so than anyone else besides Jack."

"Just because I know how she is doesn't make it right. She's upset because I told her the truth and I also kind of told her to back off a little bit and stop hovering."

"Well damn. That's why she hasn't wanted to go out with us."

"I meant to stop hovering around me when it came to relationships, not hanging out with us in general."

You knew it would be awkward with both you and Urban there and you didn't want to add more fuel to the fire.

"Jack, fix this! I miss her cooking for all of us. Now she's all sad and shit and making us eat take out. I swear that I can’t eat another egg roll."

"It's not my problem to fix. It's between them. Urb does the same thing when me and her have disagreements. He remains neutral and that’s what I’m doing."

"Now you know how stubborn your wife is, she is not going to apologize first."

"I think that the both of you need to apologize. You for keeping Yasmin from her and she does too for running the girlfriends off in the past even if her intentions behind it were good.." Jack said being completely honest.

"But why am I apologizing if I'm not sorry? I guarantee that if I would have told her about Yasmin that we wouldn’t still be together because of how she is."

"Urb, just do it so we can get fed! We're about to turn to skin and bones around here!"

"Shloob, you're just scared that she'll pop off."

"Well she has been quiet all week. Maybe she's plotting something. First Lady is never quiet. Jack, just make sure you give the eulogy at Urb's funeral."

Jack took the steps two at a time to go and check on you. It definitely made him feel some type of way seeing his wife so sad, so he was trying to do his best to take your mind off of it. But, he knew the two of you couldn’t live without each other even if both of you were acting like dumbasses and not trying to fix the issue.

He found you sitting on the bed and scrolling through your phone with your shoes near you assuming that you were getting ready to leave.

"Babe?"

"Yes?"

"Now you know I'm staying neutral because the last thing I want to do is come between you two and pick sides but the two of you really need to fix this."

"I'm doing what he asked me to do. So I'm keeping my distance."

"That's not what he meant and you know it." Jack replied while coming to sit down next to you and pull you onto his lap.

"Well that's what it sounded like to me. Because apparently I ruin everything and run people off."

"Baby girl. I get that you're in your feelings because he kept it from you. However, he has a point as to why."

"Not you too." You muttered while rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

"I wouldn't be a good husband if I wasn't honest with my wife."

"I just… from what I saw from my perspective, none of them had his best interest and obviously in my mind I don't think anyone is good enough for my best friend. What's wrong with wanting to protect him from getting his heart broken?"

"Nothing at all but sometimes people need to learn on their own. You have to allow him to make mistakes. I feel like we're talking about our kid in a way." Jack said before laughing and it made you form a small smile on your face.

“That’s why I’m keeping my distance.”

“No, you need to find a good balance. This is such a thing as caring too much and you kind of take it overboard when it comes to Urban.”

“I just…. It really hurt what he said.”

“But there wasn’t any ill intent behind it, baby girl. Urban is hurt too. Don’t you think he wanted you to be the first person he told about Yasmin?”

“I thought he would do that regardless but, I… I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.”

“Baby, just think about it from his point of view, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Now where are you off to? You need to stop avoiding us.”

“I’m not avoiding anybody. I’m about to go spend time with Meg in the studio. I wrote something for her and we want to record it.”

“Fine, but this weekend you’re spending time with us too. I invited Yasmin over to formally meet you.”

“No thanks, I’m busy.”

“Baby! Stop doing that. Will you at least try for Urban?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, fine. Try for me.”

“Maybe.”

“You didn’t say no so I’ll take it.”

You and Megan had just finished recording Budget and the two of you were just sitting around talking when the topic of Urban and Yasmin was brought up.

“Have you met her yet?”

“Nope and apparently I am this weekend because that husband of mine invited her over. I just can’t believe he literally lied to my face.”

“Well…. You kind of take it to the extreme when it comes to PG.”

“How so?”

“You are extremely protective and territorial over them. I know that they say no one gets to the first lady except through them but no one gets to the members of PG without going through the first lady. It goes both ways.”

“They’re my friends! I obviously want to protect them as much as I can!”

“Okay, you can do that without being a helicopter mom. Because that is definitely you.”

“I am not!”

“Listen to me for a second. I have heard a few of them say that certain things they don’t say in front of you because they don’t know how you’re going to react and they do keep things from you to not cause tension.”

“That makes me feel like I’m a horrible person. I want them to always be able to come to me about things and not have to hide.”

“You aren’t. You just have to allow yourself to have an open mind when it comes to things. I’m sure that they want to share a lot of things with you but they don’t because of your uhh… track record.”

“The only time I fight is if I have a good reason.”

“And I wholeheartedly believe you! However, there’s a time and place for everything so come whenever you meet her, go in there with an open mind and talk to Urban. Because even though you’re hurting, he probably is too.”

“Jack said the same thing.”

“It’ll all work out in the end, I promise. It’ll be like this entire thing never even happened.”

The weekend was now finally here and as promised for Jack and for Jack only you were playing host to Yasmin.

Everyone was sitting around the firepit in the backyard holding simple conversations and getting to know her while you had simply remained quiet.

You had a feeling that anything you said was going to piss Urban off so instead of causing tension, you decided that remaining quiet was the best option.

There you were sitting on Jack’s lap and sipping on your red wine when you suddenly heard Yasmin call out to you.

“Hmm?”

“That pasta you made was really good. How’d you learn to cook so well? Did your mom or someone else teach you?”

“My mom did.” You kept your answer simple and noticed how Urban had rolled his eyes at your response, but you ignored it.

“Is there any dish that’s your favorite to make? Or only make on special occasions?”

“I don’t really have one. Anything they ask for, I make it.”

“Yasmin, wait until you try her mini strawberry cheesecakes or her sweet potato pies. We all have a running joke that she puts crack in it to keep us wanting more.” Shloob said while everyone laughed.

“I’m definitely looking forward to it.”

“I have a question for you, too.”

“Oh shit, it’s happening.” Quiiso whispered under his breath and everyone kind of looked on with wide eyes.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“What exactly is your job? No one has mentioned it seeing as I didn’t even know you existed until three weeks ago.”

“Oh, I’m a makeup artist. Still fairly new to the industry but I think the favorite person I’ve done work on is Dua Lipa. I know that the two of you are pretty close.”

“A little too close in my opinion.” Jack whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

“Hmm, how’d you meet Urban?”

“We actually ran into each other backstage at the VMA’s and then it just went from there.”

“What are your intentions? Is he your first boyfriend or no?”

“Y/N….” Urban said in a warning tone and you simply looked at him.

“Urb, you wanted me to get to know her right? And wanted for me to not ruin this seeing as you told me that I ruin every single relationship that you’ve been in so I’m doing my best.”

“Wait, what?” Yasmin curiously asked while looking between all of you and you heard Jack sigh from behind you.

“You can do your best without interrogating her, just like you did all the other ones before.” Urban replied while raising his voice.

“I’ve barely said anything to her all night! How am I supposed to get to know her if I don’t ask questions?”

“I really don’t mind answering them…” Yasmin said attempting to try and keep the peace since you and Urban were shooting daggers at each other.

“Should have known your ass was going to do this.”

“I didn’t even do anything!”

“Yet!”

“Fine, Urban, if you are so bothered by me wanting the best for you then I don’t know why we’re still friends.”

“Now wait one got damn minute. Yall are not throwing away ten years of friendship over this. It is not that serious. Can the two of you just apologize and move on?” 2fo piped up and suddenly looked nervous.

“I’m not apologizing for something that I’m not sorry for.”

Damn that stung.

“Well he told me I ruin everything concerning his relationships and that I’m a hypocrite because I mentioned one of those girlfriends having an attitude and he said mine could use some work.”

“Uhhh… well…”

“SHLOOB!”

“I mean…. That wasn’t totally a lie.”

“Are we seriously doing this right now? So everyone can list my faults but yall are perfect?”

“No one even said that and that’s what your problem is! You never listen when someone is trying to explain something to you and act like the victim!” Urban fired back at you and you could now tell that Yasmin was extremely uncomfortable.

“Will you two calm down?!” Jack exclaimed as his two best friends were going at it. As much as he didn’t want to intervene, this was getting out of hand.

“I’m not acting like a victim!

“Umm right now you kind of are.” Ace confessed and you just stared at all of them in disbelief.

“We’re your friends and we are supposed to be honest with you, no matter if it hurts. It’s better we tell you than to lie.”

“Oh, but you all did lie. In ten years, I have kept nothing from any of you and this was really a slap in my face but since I always act like the victim, I won’t say anymore about it. Yasmin, you seem really nice and I wish you and Urban the best. I have a headache so good night.”

Jack tried to pull you back as you attempted to stand up, but he wasn’t quick enough.

You made your way back into the house as it was now silent in the backyard.

“Well consider that our last meal from her probably until 2025. If she wasn’t acting distant before, she damn sure will be distant now.” Nemo said, breaking the silence.

“Jack, is this how it feels when she’s mad at you? Because I don’t really like this.” 2fo confessed.

“Somehow this feels worse.”

Just then Jack eyed Urban who was simply running a hand through his curls while Yasmin was sitting there awkwardly.

“All this shit could have been avoided if you would have told her.”

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minecraftbookshelf · 4 months

Text

Gone Fishing

Mr. InTheLittleWood I know you’re in your tags on here, walk away from this one.

(No, this isn't Marriage of State, that is still with my beta, this is something i started writing for Mermay and then semi-abandoned until these past couple of weeks.)

Mildly Dark Comedy Urban Fantasy Adventures featuring Sleep Deprived Martyn, Selkie!Scott, and Swan Maiden!Cleo and Pearl.

AO3

Rating: T on AO3

Wordcount: ~4k

Characters: Martyn InTheLittleWood, Scott Smajor, ZombieCleo, PearlescentMoon, bonus appearances by JoeHills (with accompanying breaking of the fourth wall) and Rendog.

Relationships: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss + Martyn (its not quite Divorcee Quartet imo) Background Martyn?Ren and Referenced Past Flower Husbands

Warnings: Off-screen murder and on-screen blood spatter, kidnapping, selkie tropes and the adjacent concepts

This is directly inspired by that one tumblr post (I'll link it if i ever successfully find it again) that starts out "swan maidens would be hella built and down for violence, actually" and ends with "a swan maiden and a selkie team up and do violence"

3AM calls directly after the full moon are officially Martyn's nemesis. Nonetheless, he listens to the flustered emergency dispatcher stammer through a semi-explanation of the situation. (Murder. Kidnapped mythicals. The usual. He's not even on call this week; how and why is he the only Hunter in the area?) He hauls himself out of bed, knocks on Ren's door on the way out to let him know he is leaving and grabs his keys. He pauses, halfway out the front door and texts Ren because there is no way he'll remember given that he probably didn't even wake up when Martyn knocked, deep asleep and dead to the world in a way only exhausted werewolves can manage.

It's a bit of a drive; some fancy, palace-like mansion outside town on the far side. About as far away as it can get while still being in Martyn's district.

He gets two more calls on the way over, one from the same dispatcher, one from the police on the scene, practically begging him to hurry up with all the usual frantic desperation of humans who've never encountered magic before.

He stops for coffee.

It's a right mess by the time he does arrive; multiple police complete with flashing lights. The press (complete with their own version of flashing lights) a coroners van, at least five ambulances, and an arch-fey lurking by the tree-sized bush sculpted into a pegasus.

Oh no.

Joe Hills gives a jaunty wave that Martyn returns on autopilot.

There's only one reason Joe Hills ever leaves Tennessee.

One cup of coffee is not enough to deal with Cleo.

Much less what they usually drag with them.

Maybe-if Martyn is really, really lucky-Cleo was flying solo when they got mixed up in whatever the hell this is. (Even if they tend a bit more towards arson than murder.) Maybe its just them and not any of the rest of their crew.

He slips through the frazzled crowd of medical and law enforcement personnel, taking note of the battered and sickly looking people sitting in the backs of the ambulances, all of them visibly Not Exactly Human. He recognizes the vampire in the nearest one. Her missing persons case has been sitting on Jimmy's desk at Guild HQ for almost six months now with no new leads. She's sipping on a blood packet while a nervous paramedic hovers just out of her immediate reach.

Now he just has to find someone who knows what's going on-

"Hiyaa!"

Oh no.

Scott Smajor is sitting in the entryway of the stupidly fancy house, wrapped in a shock blanket, practically beaming at Martyn around the paramedic who is very clearly just trying to do their job and is not being paid enough for this.

Martyn can relate.

Scott's smile is wide and bright, his eyes are glassy and feverish, and he's visibly shaking. There is blood spattered on his clothes. And that is just what Martyn can see around the blanket.

He should revisit that offer from the Syndicate. He's pretty sure their annual salary is double what the Guild pays. More than enough to make up for not being a strictly legal operation. Half the stuff Ren brings into their apartment would get them both imprisoned in a pocket dimension somewhere for centuries anyway, might as well go all in.

With a resigned sigh he sucks it up, sticks his hands in his pockets, and strolls up to the front steps.

"Well if it isn't our favorite friendly neighborhood black widow," he says, dry as summer in purgatory. Already piecing together the picture to form something of a complete answer to the question of 'what happened.' "Fancy meeting you here."

Scott actually has the audacity to look offended. "Excuuse you. Most of my husbands are still alive."

Based off the amount of blood spatter on his clothes and the presence of the coroners van, Martyn is going to assume that the most recent one isn't.

'Clothes' is a bit of a generous term. Scott is wearing what most people would consider appropriate-if a bit risque- for clubbing, and what Martyn recognizes as what Scott wears when he's hunting. Most strongly indicated not by what he is wearing but by one very specific and important thing he isn't. This kind of scenario usually ends in at least a week of headaches and several different levels of bureaucratic hell for Martyn that he has to deal with all on his own because Jimmy and Scott are apparently fighting or something and Jimmy reuses to touch anything to do with this nonsense with a fifty foot pole. That could also just be Jimmy deciding to be smart for once and growing a backbone at a time extremely inconvenient for Martyn in particular.

Every day, Martyn regrets getting mixed up in mythical society. If he'd known it outstripped even the smallest of small towns on the 'everyone knows everyone' front he would have run so fast in the other direction. No matter what Grian had to offer. And now he's stuck here.

"Speaking of husbands," Scott purrs, craning to look around the paramedic, ostensibly at Martyn but he's really not as subtle as he thinks in the way he scans the driveway around Martyn's car. "Where is your partner?" He's hiding it well, but his jaw is tense and his eyes pinched. It's probably been hours since he was Separated.

"So what kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?" Martyn ignores his question and brushes past it, offering an alternate distraction he is actually willing to play along with. He does not have the energy to deal with the drama surrounding his partner and said partner's ex(?)-husband, especially when Jimmy isn't here to give a hard time over it. It already gets brought up way too much every time Scott pops up yet again, dancing merrily back and forth across the line between victim and perpetrator in yet another one of their cases.

"Are you the Guild agent?" A loud voice demands from behind him.

Martyn whirls on his heel, far more ready to trust Scott at his back than some random police. (Not that he would ever admit it.) "I am!" he responds brightly, deliberately irritating in the way he knows best. "What happened here, Officer?"

The policeman, clearly someone important by the lack of wear and tear on his...everything, pulls himself pompously up to his full, rail-thin height and peers down at Martyn over his nose. "Aren't you lot supposed to keep your rabble in check?"

Oh, its going to be like that, is it?

Martyn fixes a blandly polite smile on his face and slips his voice into something a little bit more professional. "That still doesn't answer my question. What happened here?" Behind the officer he can see Joe Hills, still lingering amongst the topiary, eyes fixed on the officer's back. Suddenly it is a lot more reassuring, knowing there is an exit strategy for the people without the protection of a government employee ID. Even if that exit strategy is one of the most dangerously unpredictable beings Martyn is aware of. Which really is saying something.

"That," The officer (Hughes, his nameplate says) jabs a finger over Martyn's shoulder, presumably at Scott. "Has murdered an upstanding citizen and has the audacity to claim immunity!"

Martyn cocks his head to the side. "From where I'm standing, you're pointing the finger at a selkie missing his skin, so yeah, there is probably immunity involved."

"Well first of all," Cleo announces their presence as they emerge from the depths of the house, trailed by a very nervous looking police officer.

They stop in the doorway to drop a bundle on Scott's head, the dark mass makes contact with his bright blue hair and unfolds to drape over him. By the time Scott has discarded the shock blanket to wrap himself in his pelt instead, Cleo has stepped past him to stand shoulder to shoulder with Martyn. They're taller than Officer Hughes, which a very petty part of Martyn appreciates. The crisp white feathers of their own skin tickle his arms as they cross their arms. There is blood spatter on their feathers.

"He didn't kill the asshole," they continue without so much as looking at Martyn. "He physically couldn't. I did. And I'd do it again."

Cleo is hardly new to scenes like this, neither are they squeamish. The combined records of the entirety of their little squad speak to that. But something about this one clearly has them rattled and angry. At least Officer Hughes is here to take the brunt instead of them turning it on Martyn.

"Chapter four of the Magical Coexistence Treaties, Section B, Paragraph 13; 'Should the autonomy of any selkie, swan maiden, or similar being be violated, any and all members of their pod/flock can take whatever measures they deem necessary to right and/or avenge the wrong and secure the freedom of the violated party or, should the victim have perished, obtain were-guild from the one who harmed them.'" Cleo rattles off the sentences that Martyn knows by heart at this point, from the frequency he's encountered them in more or less this exact context with this exact cast.

They point at Scott. "Selkie." They point to themself. "Swan." They gesture back and forth between the both of them. "Pod, flock, whatever you want to call it. And given I just retrieved his skin from the asshole's locked personal office I think his autonomy was violated enough." Their voice is deeply sarcastic in the way that only Cleo can be. Martyn is half-surprised Officer Hughes isn't on the ground bleeding from it.

"And all that was before we found the dungeon in the basement." They turn to Martyn, brushing Hughes off with as much concern as if he were a fly. "He was a collector, apparently. And he'd been at it awhile."

Martyn looks around the assembled ambulances and their occupants with a new, more critical eye. A starved and weakened vampire, a silver-collared werewolf, two nervous and twitch sirens (wrapped in damp blankets as a paramedic with a lock-picking kit fiddles with the muzzles fitted around their faces. Martyn makes a mental note; someone with flexible skills set like that might work out at the Guild. And they can always use more medical personnel.) an emaciated naga. As he turns back two more paramedics emerge behind them, carefully wheeling out a criminally (literally) small tank containing brackish water and an insensate mer.

Oh this is going to be so much paperwork.

Martyn is very glad the guy is dead. At least that means he won't have to work on a prosecution on top of everything else.

"There's more inside," Scott says behind them. Martyn glances over his shoulder and is glad to see him looking a lot less feverish and pained than before with the return of his pelt. "I got a grand tour. He's got a dragon-hide hanging on the wall in the library and a whole hall of displayed...parts."

So much paperwork.

Jimmy had better enjoy that vacation. They'll still probably be sorting this all out when he gets back.

"He was going to put me in a concrete enclosure, Martyn, he showed me. It's so ugly. Almost as bad as the rest of his house."

Of course that is equally offensive to Scott's sensibilities as his entire free will being stolen. That tracks.

There is still an elephant in the room that Martyn hasn't sen hide nor feather of at all.

"Pearl?" He asks Cleo, almost dreading the answer.

"Left already."

Suspicious, but at least it means he only has to deal with Gaslight and Gatekeep here. Or whatever they call themselves.

This time.

Because this is not the first time The Terrible Honeypot Trio, as they are unofficially referred to at Guild headquarters, have used this exact legal loophole to go after a creep or two. The murder is outside the norm, admittedly. Usually they limit themselves to theft and arson. It's a very lucrative racket for them and they have it down to a science. Dress Scott (its usually Scott; Cleo is scary and Pearl has a stab first ask questions later policy) up, flaunt his selkie status, and dangle him in front of a bunch of rich guys and see who takes the bait.

And every angle of it is legal.

Multiple Guild members are of the opinion that, whatever their (financial) motivations they are also providing a valuable public service. Their trail of victims is also a trail of overall shitty and predatory people that the Guild can make sure get nailed for something else, whether mythical or mundane in nature.

Ultimately, given that all someone has to do to not end up as a target of 'The Three Gs' is, you know, not abduct someone, they've never had a very convincing entrapment case leveled against them. Though a few of their victims have tried.

This one likely won't be, given that his blood is currently smeared all over Scott's clothes and Cleo's face.

Hmmmmm.

Martyn squints thoughtfully at the spatter on Cleo. It's hard to tell, since they've clearly been doing things, he's not going to think too hard about what, and its been smeared quite a bit...but that doesn't look like murder spatter. That looks like adjacent to murder spatter.

Which means, given that Scott couldn't, Pearl was probably the one who actually killed the asshole.

Honestly, that tracks.

Cleo and Hughes are in some kind of stare down now, Martyn would wish the officer luck but honestly, he hopes Cleo eats him alive. He ignores the two of them and turns back to Scott, who's still sitting on the front step, leaning against the door-frame. He looks tired and is shivering a little, but winks at Martyn when he notices his attention. Getting his pelt back has cleared away most of the lingering discomfort or shakiness and as annoying as it is how unruffled he seems after having just witnessed a murder at what was very clearly close proximity, it is reassuring to have him back to his usual demeanor. Despite having made a career out of it, playing the victim really does not suit Scott at all.

"See something you like?"

Martyn snorts a laugh and nudges the discarded shock blanket with the toe of his boot. "You should probably take this back."

"Awww," Scott coos at him, head cocked to the side. "You do care!"

"It's like, 6° out and you're wearing fishnets," Martyn says, somewhat proud of his deadpan and also for resisting making a joke about how fishnets seem a bit on the nose. "It's making me cold just to look at you."

Scott rolls his eyes, but concedes enough to drag the shock blanket over his lap. "You realize I don't really get cold, right? It's like, a whole selkie thing."

"Yeah, when you're in seal form, which you're very clearly not, at the moment."

"It doesn't just go away," Scott grumbles, but tucks the blanket more securely under his knees anyway.

Martyn is going to blame his fussing on still being in post-full moon mode. He'd been throwing blankets and pillows and soup at Ren all afternoon and is going to have to pick right back up where he left off when he gets back home. Ren is notoriously terrible at self-care after a transformation.

"Right," Cleo is suddenly there, looming threateningly over Martyn's shoulder. "Martyn, can you tell this idiot that he's not going to be able to arrest us so we can get on with it all."

God, Martyn hates inter-departmental politics. He leans back to peer around Cleo's shoulder at Hughes. "They're in my custody, you can't have them."

He ignores Hughes' subsequent blustering to give Scott and Cleo his full attention. "Is there anything else either of you needs, or can we get out of here?"

The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon. Martyn has spent the past several days taking care of a worn-out and antsy werewolf he is supposed to be dead asleep right now. He will send a preliminary report into HQ (text his boss a two sentence summary) and then he is done. This can be someone else's problem until he's had a minimum of twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. The murder part has already been done anyway, what's left sounds like it is much more in Research & Preservation's jurisdiction. And Medical. He'll be sure to add a whole extra sentence to that effect.

Scott and Cleo exchange a glance and shake their heads. "Didn't bring anything," Cleo says with a shrug. "I got what I came for."

Scott kicks at their ankle but also looks kind of touched. For a second and only a second, because those two don't do sappy emotions. He then kicks the shock blanket back off and begins hauling himself to his feet. Cleo gives him a hand up and he wobbles on his high-heeled boots but stays standing. Given how shaky he still looks, Martyn is counting that as a win.

He's starting to think Scott might have been separated from his skin for more than just a few hours this time. He's usually completely shaken off the effects by the time Martyn shows up. He's never seen this level of severity.

The two mythicals wander over, Scott still holding onto Cleo's arm, pacing carefully to try and hide the way he is leaning on them for support. Cleo, being Cleo, blatantly ignores the entire situation but still slows their usually brisk stride to accommodate.

"You'll have to give us a ride."

"What?" Visions of his bed vanish before Martyn's eyes at Cleo's declaration.

"You heard me," Cleo repeats, heading towards the edge of the crime scene, Scott only staggering a little bit as he keeps up. "Now where did you park, I'm ready to be rid of this place."

Martyn opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, "Excuse me?" He looks back at the topiary Joe Hills had been standing by. 'Had been' turns out to be the important part of that sentence. "What happened to-"

"He had to go pick his kid up from school, keep up, Martyn." Cleo yells over their shoulder without looking back. "He has a schedule to keep and you took too long. HE was just here to take down the wards."

"Wards?" Martyn rushes to catch up to them. "This is the first you've said about wards. What kind of wards?"

"The kind that keep people like us out," Cleo snaps back, not slowing down at all. "What kind do you think?"

They beeline directly for Martyn's car, pull open the passenger door, and push Scott into the seat. The entire time Martyn has known Cleo, they have never given up the front seat for anyone.

Martyn wonders just how close their luck came to running out this time.

Cleo closes the back seat door behind themself and then the two of them are looking at Martyn impatiently through the windows, as if he is the one acting weird.

There are not enough braincells in Sleep-Deprived Martyn's head to untangle all of this. He gets in the car.

He gives both Scott and Cleo a onceover while starting it. Now tthat they are out of sight of the masses, Scott is slumped against the door, face pale and eyes closed. Cleo is being very deliberately casual in a very Cleo way, and their face is pinched and the line that shows up on their forehead when they are stressed is definitely line-ing. The hand they have held up, pretending to pick dried blood out from under their nails, is shaking.

"Can we get chicken nuggies?" Pearl asks, her face very suddenly right in Martyn's.

Martyn does not yell or flail. Just for the record. And he certainly doesn't scream or jump.

Pearl just stares at him, eyes eerily blank behind her usual 'thrilled with violence' sparkle. She must have been laying down in his back seat. She's sitting in the middle now, next to Cleo, spattered with even more blood than the other two, in a way that bears out Martyn's theory on who actually killed the homeowner.

Her expression turns wheedling and she leans forward even more, propping her chin on the back of Scott's seat. "Nuggies?"

How is this Martyn's life.

"Fine," he sighs as he pulls out of the fancy big circle drive, leaving the oversized house and all its horrors behind them. "We can get chicken nuggies."

Ren wakes up, for a given definition of "wakes up" at...some point. Checking the clock would require opening his eyes and, between the sandy sensation and general lingering exhaustion, he doesn't really want to do that.

He can feel the sun through the curtains and his window face west. So afternoon sometime.

His stomach rumbles.

Perchance he should investigate the kitchen.

A moment of consideration and he decides it still isn't worth opening his eyes. He wraps his comforter over his head and around his shoulders as if it were a winter cape and stumbles towards the door. It takes a few moments of groping around but he manages to find the doorknob and free himself from his confines.

He can smell coffee.

Coffee and people and fast food and...blood?

Instantly set on edge, the clinging territorial instincts from the moon reaction to unexpected intruders in the home, Ren finally cracks one eye open.

Half of the sofa is taken up by a blurry white mass that, after a few blinks, solidifies into a swan sleeping on a pile of messy blankets, head tucked under one wing. A very familiar swan that is awakened enough by Ren's racket to raise their head and give him a displeased hiss, before going back to sleep, settling deeper into their impromptu nest.

His attention is pulled away from Cleo by a shuffling from the kitchen.

Pearl Moon waves at him from where she is sitting on the floor, leaning up against the partition between kitchen and sitting room, halfway through a tub of Ren's ice cream. Ren blinks back at her.

Major is sitting at the kitchen table across from Martyn, who has his face down on the surface of said table and is giving off the general smell he does anytime his emotions are best summarized as "I don't want to be here anymore."

Major looks back over his shoulder and beams at Ren, "Oh good, you're up! Come take a look at these!"

Ren shuffles closer until he can see what exactly it is the selkie has spread all over the table.

It's quite the variety, all placed carefully on Ren's good tea towels. Several trinkets of questionable origin, a cursed box of some kind that smells of fae magic, some mundane jewelry, and a small collection of potion vials. Major taps one of the un-enchanted necklaces proudly. "How would you price this lot?"

Martyn groans against the table top. "Could you at least not conduct your illegal sales in my kitchen when I'm here?"

Ren pats him on the shoulder and does his best to wake up enough to give the haul a more critical look. "Hard to say without a close examination but at least a couple thousand."

Behind him, Pearl makes a disparaging noise. "Only a couple thousand?" She says around a mouthful of ice cream. "Wow, that's cheap."

She shakes something that makes a jingling sound. "Now come look at mine!"

Martyn groans again and shoves his chair away from the table. "I'm going to go get food, if this is what you are doing now." He heads for the door.

Ren takes his chair as Pearl scrambles to her feet and joins them at the table, pulling things willy-nilly out of the pockets of her bright red jacket. He certainly wasn't planning on business on a day off when he hadn't even opened the shop, but Cleo and friends were always a good source of dubiously obtained items.

Martyn closes the front door behind him and Ren can hear him grumbling his way down the stairwell.

He can smell cheap chicken nuggets and his stomach rumbles. Hopefully Martyn brings some of those back with him.

#rain rambles #trafficblr #selkie au #life series gaslight gatekeep girlboss #inthelittlewood #smajor1995 #zombiecleo #pearlescentmoon #renchanting #rain writes fanfiction #long post is long #rendog

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outofangband · 1 month

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@imakemywings I really love the collection of Narn quotes you made here and your awesome responses to them and obviously because I am very biased My favorite one was the one about Morwen

"But when they bade Turin turn and look back upon the house of his father, then the anguish of parting smote him like a sword, and he cried: 'Morwen, Morwen, when shall I see you again?' But Morwen standing on her threshold heard the echo of that cry in the wooded hills, and she clutched the post of the door so that her fingers were torn."

It’s such a vivid quote; I have always thought about how it’s impossible to tell if Morwen is intentionally replacing her grief for the physical pain of her fingers being cut open or if she is unaware of the pain because of her grief and/or her suppression of it. Both of those seem in character for her. I really loved @imakemywings ‘s analysis of it; Morwen is cold and blunt but she is absolutely not unaffected by her child’s grief, we see it again and again, like in this quote yoo. She is acutely aware of it, perhaps even more so than her own, but she is determined for her son to survive and for her son to survive not as a thrall to the occupying men. And it’s not just that he is her son, he is also among the last Bëorians left alive. There is a cultural legacy as much as a family one and even by sending him away she knows at least some of this legacy may well be lost

but I just keep thinking about Morwen having to send Túrin away and how in my opinion this cannot be separated from the implicit separation between Morwen and her parents some sixteen years before.

Morwen’s past is within the lines of The Children of Húrin, not directly stated beyond “the sorrows of the house of Bëor saddened her heart she came as an exile to Dor-lómin from Dorthonion after the ruin of the Bragollach”. We know her father is Baragund who remained in Dorthonion with Barahir until he and the other outlaws were murdered, several years later. We are not given names or fates of either Morwen or Rían’s mothers but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to infer that Morwen was effectively orphaned in the Bragollach. We know she was a child when this happened (None of this is new information or anything, I’ve rambled about it a million times before in my houseless for exiles tag)

She sends Túrin away knowing that when her parents sent her away for safety, she never saw them again and that her safety was temporarily and fragile and has now been broken. It’s such a devastating decision for her and I love her so much.

I also think about this passage, which comes two pages before, and is probably the most emotionally honest that Morwen is in the entire book, and I am sure you know I do not mean this at all as an insult to her

“I am sending you away so that you did not learn it. Morwen answered, and she set him before her and looked into his eyes as if she were trying to read some riddle there. “It is hard, Túrin, my son,” she said, at length “not hard for you only. It is heavy on me in evil days to judge what is best to do. But I do as I think right for why else should I part with a thing most dear that is left to me.”

(Note The parallel here to Túrin, noticing “that his father often looked steadfastly out him as a man might look at something dear that he must part from”.)

Morwen has no allusions about what might await Túrin when he leaves and it speaks a lot to the horror of post Nírnaeth Hithlum that she will risk this to spare him death or captivity at the hands of the incomers. She’s survived invasion before, after all.

#the silmarillion #musing and meta #the children of húrin #morwen #Túrin #houseless for exiles

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lunarcat982 · 2 months

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Untitled book

ok so here's chapter 1 of a story I'm writing I've already written the first 3 chapters so will prob post them at some point. Also this is rly long so if u want me to post further chapters like split into different posts or something js say! and pls give ideas and feedback (it won't be perfect so I'll defo need like improvements lol) :))

Chapter 1

Meet Felix

Felix sighed as he walked down the crowded hallway of his school, his thoughts drowning in the chatter and enjoyment within his peers. you could vaguely hear his timid footsteps echo around the school. He had bags under his eyes with a tint of red. He’d been crying again. It was so hard sometimes… It hurt. He couldn’t bear it. It was the end of another day just like the others, painful, emotionless and hell. Felix's phone buzzed in his blazer pocket, probably mum or dad asking him for something as they always do. Oh… it was Isabell. They used to be friends a few weeks back, good friends, but she said she wanted to find some new ‘people’ and maybe find love, or some generic shit like that anyway. He couldn't remember what she said exactly, but it didn’t help with his mental state, she was one of the few people who kept him at least a little happy in this fucked up world. Haha probably the only person, and then when she went away, he couldn’t help feeling empty and alone, not even his parents talked to him anymore.

Apparently, she wanted to meet him somewhere today at 4:00, she wanted to talk about how things are going and maybe hang out a bit more. Felix managed a meek smile, maybe he did have someone to relate to, maybe his existence wasn’t so meaningless. He was getting his hopes up, that was the mistake.

Felix walked up the steep hill that led to the long winding road that accommodated his house. His feet gently smothered browning leaves that had recently fallen from their respective branches. He had already started conjuring up what to say, what to ask. The only problem was getting out of his house after he was in it, of course mum would start bombarding him with questions about girlfriends if he brought up the fact he was going out with a girl. He would have to lie, not that it meant anything, it was almost instinctive now. He just couldn't get why they didn't understand he wasn't interested in any girls! It angered him more than it should have.

He had arrived, he stood tiresomely in front of the bleak grey door he knew only too well; something about impressing the neighbours, his mum had said. Lazily he pulled on the handle and slowly opened and closed the door. Nothing, he was safe. Carefully Felix ascended the stairs and changed into something more suitable than his confining uniform; and yet even after this he still felt constricted by his parents' choice of clothes, he yearned for something more… expressive. It-it didn't matter now, he had to go, he was going to be late. He was downstairs now, and was about to leave, but.

“And just where do you think you’re goin?” her voice was slurred and slow, she had been drinking again. Felix sighed, “I-I’m going to see a friend”

“Which friend!” His mother snapped at him drawing another gulp of wine from one of her already half empty glasses.

“It’s a boy mum! Okay?” Felix said, actively avoiding looking at the mess, which was his birth mother, he couldn’t stand to see anyone, not even her like this.

“Eugh, fuckin�� hell Felix, you keep on seein’ all these boys, you’re gonna end up a fag,”

Felix shut his eyes and tried ignoring the comment, even though the anger was begging to be let out. He never supported his mum’s or, well, the whole town's view on the LGBTQ+ community. But he couldn’t think about that right now, he needed to go, and with that his mum slunk back into the living room in which all the blinds were drawn down, and Felix swung the door open and slammed it shut behind him, ready to see an old friend.

He was starting to smile more now, he felt heavy weights he’d been carrying for God knows how long lift off him. He felt a sense of escape rush over him; escape from his family? guilt? He wasn’t sure, but it made him feel better and that's all that mattered right now. And then it hit him, they hadn’t even organised an area to meet up. That was stupid of him. He quickly pried the phone from his pocket and texted asking to meet at… maybe Grey Heart woods? Yeah, that was a good place, he had an idea of something to show her. Felix smiled at the thought of this, he hadn’t been given the chance to express his interests for a long while now and he was eager to do so. His phone buzzed in his hand “yh ok” she replied.

15 minutes later Felix was outside the field by Grey Heart woods, he used to hang out here, back when everything was simpler, and he didn’t feel alone all the time. This was where he first met Isabell, they were both 13, wow 2 years ago. Heh, time flies when you have nothing to do with your life.

At this moment Felix realised Isabell was nowhere to be seen, he checked his phone: 16:01. She was late, eh it was ok people are often late- he had suggested the meeting spot rather late. It only bothered him when he was late, he couldn’t stand that- it made him very uncomfortable; he still wasn’t sure why.

5 minutes passed and eventually he saw her come out of an opening to the right. She still had glasses although they were new, a ginger ponytail hung from the back of her head and she seemed more confident than the last team he saw her, taller too. He put on a smile and tried cleaning the mop of black hair that draped over his forehead. In truth he was nervous, it had been so long, and he didn’t want to lose this like he lost it before.

They walked towards each other, both smiling, “H-hi!” he said, raising a hand to wave, his attempts at hiding his nervous-ness were poor. “Hellooo!” she giggled. He smiled at this, she hadn’t changed, quirky and weird.

“Heheh, so how have you been? It's been a long time, "he said, more confident now. “Well, let's see, parents still divorced check, no friends check, oh! And still single, definitely check," "and you?” she asked with a beaming smile.

“Wow ok, let me think, I’ve been rotting away in my room, been crying in the school bathrooms and been completely and utterly alone,” he said, hinting at how much her sudden leaving hurt him.

“Yeah, I’ll cheers to that!” She said, distracted, looking into the woods to the left of them both. “So, you wanna go in?” she asked signalling towards the woods

“Um yeah sure,” “I actually have something to show you!” he said remembering what he was planning. “Oh, you do, do you?” she said once again with that cheeky smile.

They’d been walking for around 5 minutes into the woods now and Isabell was getting restless, “when are we getting there?” she asked.

“Hehe don’t worry we’re nearly there, I promise”,

she wasn’t convinced, he could tell. And she was starting to move her body closer to his as they walked. That was... new, eh it's probably nothing.

Finally, the pair came to a stop in front of a large tree, around 5 metres up the trunk were 10 wooden planks nailed into various branches, although some appeared to be losing their grip and leaning off the edges. “Um what's this?”

“A treehouse!” He said. He was feeling more open with her now, he didn’t mind her judgement.

“okayy , how are we gonna get up?” she said a little more interested now.

“Ladder!” he said, smiling and gesturing towards an arrangement of horizontal wooden slabs scaling the trunk of the tree.

Isabell frowned at the state of the wood but climbed it, nevertheless. Felix followed her up, close behind, smiling more and more. He missed this place.

Eventually, the two of them had reached the top, Felix was surprised at how well the place had held up, only a few patches of moss growing here and there. “So, what were you gonna bring me up here for again?” She said, her voice smoother and fluid. It was probably just him.

“Well,” he said, a little nervous, again, “I actually wanted to show you something I’m really interested in… paradoxes!” he said, smiling once more.

She frowned at this, “what?” she said coldly.

“Y'know, a statement or question that contra-”

“Are you kidding me?”

“W-what?”

“I’ve been acting like all nice for you, like we used to be” “And this is what I get…” “Felix, I LIKE you”

“I” He didn't know what to do, he was panicking and confused.

She sighed, “I guess I’ll have to do it myself” she whispered as to not let him hear. He did. “Felix, I’m sorry” she started cooing, that same smooth tone in her voice again, “come on we can just be together, I Know you like me” she started moving towards him on her hands and knees. He froze, he didn’t know what to do and was so confused. She was on him now. “W-” he managed to get the start of a word out before she pressed her lips against his own, closing her eyes she moved her hand to his cheek. He felt her tongue progressing towards his mouth, his back now pressed against the wood beneath him, as she leaned into him. He was scared, so scared, he didn’t like this. Without thinking he pushed against her, releasing himself from her clutch. She got back onto her knees and looked at him with disgust. He hadn't realised, he was now crying, and his eyes were now red with worry. “Fuck you!” she said now angry, “Y-you freak!” she was hurt too, and he could tell in her voice she was on the brink of tears herself. Without warning she descended the ladder two steps at a time, and ran away from him, all the while he sat there, tears rolling down his red cheeks. Felix sat there for half an hour more, crying harder than he had in months, as that word repeated over and over in his head, “Freak”.

#idk how to tag this #art #lgbtqia #depressing shit #writing #chapter 1 #books #reading #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing stuff #writerscommunity #writeblr #writer stuff #creative writing #lgbtq #lol

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kmenkea · 7 months

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Bloodlust - Part 3

Summary: A bunch of hectic days are ahead of the party, but even through the fight, they manage to bond. Astarion finds himself worried when his favourite travelling companion falls in battle.

A/N: I think the only thing I have to say, is that this fanfic is moving very slow, as I'm taking my time to write and expand on the relationship, rather than just rush to the cool heart-warming romance part (and the ehhh, less wholesome parts which are coming with part 4 (which is already written btw, I'm just lazy and keep playing the game instead of posting)). Well, tell me if I should speed things up, or if it's fine to keep it slow and write for a lot longer.

Read on AO3

Word count: 4.4k

This sketch is very rough, but I liked the expressions on their faces

As always, mild spoilers for act 1

The two days that followed were, to put it lightly, an absolute turn off. First, they ran into a small barn house where two lovebirds were having a moment and didn’t take the intrusion lightly. The jokes around the fire that night were way too raunchy and disgusting for either Leeith or Astarion to hide away together, without thinking of what they had seen and be weirded out. It was fun though. For the first night, they actually all drank and got together around the fire like friends. Before, everyone would just quietly sit alone, maybe one or two people would have a conversation together, but most were stiff and distant from each other.

The next day, they went back to that path, dead hyenas littered the cobblestone street. One of them was panting and howling, clearly in pain. Leeith moved closer, hoping to help it, or at least end the pain, but the animal exploded in her face: a gnoll was birthed right in front of her. And the underdark was the horrifying place? No one had ever told her about gnoll reproduction, because even down there few things were worse.

Even if a bit beaten up, they managed to kill the two metres tall babies that were born in front of them. They made camp on a nearby hill, recounting all the grossest and most gruesome details of every creature they knew. Once night fell, Leeith remained alone in front of the fire, observing it fly and twirl. A bottle of wine was by her side, but she only took small sips. She didn't know what it was, but her mood had turned more sour than the contents of that bottle. Going back in her mind through these days, she realised the great weight she was carrying over her shoulders, how insignificant she truly was. Part of her wanted to just let go, be turned into an octopus and lose herself forever. She wasn't scared of death and ceremorphosis didn't sound far from it. But just… she couldn't just let go of life now. The people she was travelling with would have been fine without her, they were capable enough and she didn't care what they did of their lives if it didn't influence her own; her goddess, that was the only reason she had to life, she couldn't squander it after she had given it back to her.

A cold hand touched her shoulder, making her jump. She never noticed just how silent the vampire's steps were. He sat down, throwing his arm around the drow. She didn't welcome him, but she was glad to have been pulled away from her thoughts.

"Shall we depart, my sweet? I want to enjoy this night." He kissed her jaw and gently bit her skin. She didn't respond, just shrugging her shoulders. The offer was tempting, but… the melancholy had taken a strong grip on her heart.

"Maybe another day, if it's all the same to you." She drank a sip of wine, then offered the bottle to her courter. "I'm drier than this wine right now." She chuckled. Astarion scoffed and tried the wine. He made a disgusted face while reading the tag.

"Are you the one changing your mind? Mhph, here I thought I would get to taste you tonight." There was something in his voice, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Some kind of anxiousness. She had just rejected him or maybe he was just annoyed by going hungry another day.

"You can still drink me if you want." She offered her wrist. "Sorry for not giving you blood yesterday, I was too tired." She grabbed the bottle back from his hands, taking one long swig.

"A tempting offer, darling, but I'm afraid that vinegar spoiled your blood." His arm fell from her shoulders. Leeith felt bad for him: under the arrogant and indifferent masque, there was a whole lot of annoyance. And she couldn’t have him annoyed and resentful towards her.

"Mhh, come on darling, let me make it up with you. I'll get something better to drink so we can get shitfaced and my blood will taste sweet again, then you have your fill of me." She bit her lip, placing a hand on his chest and leaning towards him a bit. Even if it wasn't what he wanted, the offer of blood was just too tempting to pass: she could see it in the way his eyes glanced at her wrist and his fingers wanted to wrap themselves around it. He was still a slave to his sanguine hunger.

Astarion agreed at the end. As the night progressed, the drow got drunker and drunker, her smile growing wider and wider, while the liquor did its magic. Even the vampire senses were getting duller, his quips and remarks less on point, though he was drinking a lot less. Somehow, they were enjoying each other's presence and having fun as friends would. They didn't finish the bottle before the drow, gulping her last sip, put it aside.

"I- think I'll- stooop." She mumbled, laying down on her bedroll and looked at Astarion with a smile. "Come get your priiiize!" She hummed happily, exposing her neck.

The vampire didn't need to be asked twice. Gently, he cradled her head, keeping it on one side. Leeith shivered, feeling his body, made warm by the fire, come down on her. Somewhat she regretted rejecting his advances, but even in that state, she knew she was too drunk to go back on the decision. The bite arrived, icy as always, and she tried to let herself go, but a certain sadness returned. Hers, his, it was hard to tell.

Anxiety mixed with drunkenness and a sprinkle of remorse was all they offered to each other. Astarion was waiting to breach her mind, but the connection never came. Did he do something wrong? Did he upset her in any way? Were his techniques not working anymore? That couldn't be: she did still offer her blood. Part of him was glad he didn’t have to act, he didn’t have to use himself to get what he needed. But what would he do once she’d get bored of him? He knew perfectly well Leeith wasn’t the kind to do things without a prize coming her way. It was better to forget for now, just focus on her blood, burning his throat with alcohol.

The elf left her neck, licking his lips to catch any runaway droplet. Leeith's head was spinning like a cartwheel, between the wine and the bloodloss. She didn’t even try to sit back up or clean her wound, preferring to just pull up her blanket.

“Already tired, darling? I hope you’ll be able to keep up with me tomorrow.” He got up, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll make you- regret theshe wordsh. I’ll- suck you dry.” She slurred, twisting her body in a more comfortable position. “Good ng- nee- night, Assstarion. Ass-tarion, hehe.” Her mind left the material plane for that of memories before he could respond.

The next day, after guzzling down a weird concoction against hangovers, they continued on to a tollhouse on the bridge. There, some paladins of Tyr were looking for the same devil Leeith's group was searching. They had taken residence in that building: it was pretty large, with a main room full of barrels and crates and a desk at the centre piece, it communicated with a smaller upper floor thanks to two ladders. Another room was on the side, which served as kitchen and sleeping quarters. It also had a basement, but they chose to save the plunder for later. The drow offered her help to the paladins: it was better to stick together in case the wanted woman proved dangerous.

When they did find her, she looked pretty badly put, hiding away at the edge of a river and… on fire? How was she not dead or screaming her lungs out? What kind of devil was she? Leeith, Shadowheart and Lae’zel moved closer, while the rogue remained behind, crossbow already in hand. The devil saw them arrive and… smiled. Her hand never got close to her axe nor her words showed hostility. The drow heard her story and at the end, decided to invite Karlach in.

According to the tiefling’s words, they were going to need all their firepower to beat these imposter paladins.

“Alright we’ll do it this way: Karlach you’ll come with us. Shadowheart and Lae’zel, you go back to camp and tell the wizard to come here. I want to test if his magic is powerful enough - and I hope it is because these guys don’t seem to joke around. Don’t mention anything about this to Wyll. You will keep an eye on him and stop him if he tries to come here, understood?”

"Aye aye, captain." Scoffed Shadowheart.

In silence, the two went away. The tension between them was palpable as always, but they seemed to understand how to keep their animosity in check for the greater good.

The trio waited for the arrival of the wizard, chatting with their new companion, asking her about wars and the hells, which she was pretty happy to recount. Her jovial attitude did put a smile on Leeith's face, along with her need for violence. She did care a bit too much about the wellness of others, so the drow wasn't sure how well she'd mix with her way of things.

Her line of thought was broken by a voice. "Hello there." It said.

"Good, you arrived." She said upon seeing the wizard. "Gale this is Karlach, Karlach he's Gale, our mage, finally out on adventure." She added ironically at last. Gale was a bit confused upon seeing the tiefling, but still smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you." He greeted her warmly, extending a hand.

"Might be better I don't touch that, soldier." She beat her chest and more flames came out of her skin.

"Ah. I know something about dangerous things inside your chest." He laughed. Leeith rolled her eyes: the guy was really a money sink and dared get angry at her when she probed his mind for more information, as if she was just going to have a random guy eat her stuff and, worse of all, insult her and her patron's magical abilities.

"Far from me to interrupt you, but can we stop with pleasantries and go do our job? We're not exactly hidden away." The drow stood up, waiting for her companions to follow her. Gale sighed and mumbled something about patience. Her head was throbbing too much to pick up a fight with him now.

"I do so want to sink my teeth into a paladin. I wonder what holy blood tastes like." Commented the vampire in a dreamy voice, walking away.

“They’re not paladins, they’re imposters.” Corrected Karlach, fidgeting with her greataxe.

“Ahh, but can’t you just let a man dream-” The elf was interrupted by a swing getting way too close to his nose “Sweet hells! Can you put that damned thing down! I’m right here!” He screamed, jumping a few steps back like a startled cat. Karlach looked mortified, but still jolly, as she hid the weapon behind her back.

After a few chuckles and jokes at the expense of the vampire, they returned to the tollhouse. Leeith ordered everyone to stop talking and put up their most serious faces. She was going to at least try and talk their way out of this situation, hopefully the paladins weren't the liars the tiefling said they were. And if things turned sour… she motioned to Astarion to go towards the back of the building, strike from the shadows if combat started.

The rest went past the slaughter corpses of gnolls left on the bridge and towards the main door, which was open. But something was off.

The closer she got, the more a sense of impending doom spread in her mind. The tadpole squirmed inside her brain: it felt like an arrow had gone through her eye. She scratched it, praying to Lolth this wasn't the start of her transformation. Not now, after so long.

But the pain wasn't physical, it was more like a heavy curtain falling on her shoulders, smothering her. She proceeded forward, showing no signs of her discomfort to her companions.

A flash struck her mind: she saw Karlach dead on the ground, Gale limping away and herself laying face down on the floor, in a pool of her own blood. What was that?

She glanced over to the people behind her, but they seemed relaxed. The vision, it felt… like a déjà vu. Was that premonition or just anxiety? She couldn't stop now, they were basically in front of the door, just one more step and she would have locked eyes with the man.

Another flash made her whimper in pain: no, the man wasn't a paladin. He was going to use that sword against them in an effort to kill Karlach.

"What's the meaning of this? Why is the devil with you?" Shouted the man from behind his desk, hurrying to stand up. What should she do?

Karlach walked past her, starting to say something to explain herself. The drow's head throbbed again. Maybe it was just the alcohol, still inebriating her mind. But…

"Dolor!" She shouted, as the warlock aimed for that traitor's head. Tingling rose on her shoulder, flowing down her arm like a growing wave of spiders; realising the blast made her arm recoil backwards, but the man was still hit on the chest by a bolt of force, making him gasp for air.

"You fucking worms. Zariel will have your head!" The man unsheathed his greatsword and jumped over the desk. Karlach was already drawing her weapon and, in a burst of flames, she lowered it on the paladin's shoulder, leaving a dent in his armour.

"I thought we were going to speak with them!" Cried Gale, as a spell was forming around his hands. He glanced around, still confused. Another enemy was in the room, an halfling who seemed about ready to shoot Karlach. A ray of lighting left his fingertips, shocking the archer. A painful scream arose from the other room

Leeiths head cleared up, the foreboding sensation finally gone. She scanned the area, her lips ready to cast another spell: Gale could take the halfling archer alone, the real problem was the paladin. She pointed her index at the man and a curse mark appeared over his cheek, then she blasted him again. He glared at her, but couldn’t move past the mountain of infernal muscle that was the tiefling. He attacked her, a sweep so swift that it could have cut a person in half, if the barbarian hadn’t stepped aside; a large gaping wound still tore her abdomen, spitting fire and blood, but she just seemed reinvigorated by the pain. An arrow went just past Gale, who retaliated with another lighting shock.

Both the tiefling and drow continued their assault on the fake paladin, but his battle senses were in full operation and the attacks didn’t hurt him as much as they should have. He swung at Karlach again - his strikes empowered by an enchantment - this time wounding her arm pretty badly, almost making her lose her weapon. The halfling used a spell against the wizard and this time the arrow struck true, forcing the mage to drop his spell and glance at the pool of blood quickly soaking his robe. Even if in pain and on his last legs, he called upon more of his magic, and the halfling too was left within an inch of her life, but not quite dead.

Something felt off again to Leeith, watching Karlach fight in the first lines alone. She still tried to hit the paladin, but her mind was too preoccupied with thinking and missed her target. The tiefling hit him with all her might, sending him against his desk coughing blood. Maybe it was going to be fine.

Another scream ruptured her eardrums, this time coming from Gale, who fell down on the ground, unconscious. The halfling focused on Leeith, smirking and marking her for dead next. Before she could react, pain exploded on her hip, as she found an arrow sticking out of her abdomen. WIth anger bubbling inside her, she limped away from the desk to get a clearer shot. She launched her finger forward, calling on her patron’s shared energy. A second later, the lifeless body of the halfling hit the wall, as blood poured out from her mouth and eyes, the blast having crushed her internal organs to a pulp. The paladin shoved Karlach aside and ran to the drow, greatsword raised high past his head. With a burst of adrenaline and panic, she managed to get away, but slipped on someone’s blood, falling to the ground. Karlach was right behind the paladin, using the handle of her greataxe to choke him and pull him away from the helpless drow. He pushed her against the desk, but she wouldn’t let go of her grasp.

Leeith crawled away from the two wrestling mountains, her hand shuffling through her pockets for a potion. A flash of magic caught her eyes: from the door to one side a wounded and bloodied woman appeared. The magic missiles she casted kicked out whatever vitality she had left, and her vision darkened. In the last moments of consciousness, she looked around for Shadowheart, but she was nowhere to be seen. A male voice screamed.

“No, you can’t die. Get up, damn you.” Astarion arrived in the other room, just as Leeith fell. The woman he had fought against all this time turned around, ready to hit him too, but the elf parried the blow and slipped away from her, running towards the drow.

The paladin was still alive. He knew the tactic well, what Leeith had ordered everyone to do in every fight: Lae’zel and Shadowheart would go in front, protected by their armour, while the drow and himself would stand behind, picking off enemies from a distance. If anyone fell, “Let them kiss the ground and focus on killing; they can lick their wounds after the battle is over.” But the two women were nowhere to be seen and the situation was dire.

His intestines twisted and tugged at the sight of the drow struggling for her life. He felt like he couldn’t just let her go. No, she was too important, he needed her to protect him. He needed her blood and flavour. And something else he couldn’t quite put his fingers upon, something that reminded him of yesterday’s evening, as they drank and chatted; that reminded him of all the little pleasantries she’d do for him, having his back both in fights and in conversation, the things she would give just to him, like that potion.

He reached in his pockets for the bottle, removing the cork with his teeth and emptying the contents in her mouth. The human woman used this as an opportunity to attack him but, quick as a cat, he rolled away from the fire bolt, just as Leeith's eyes shot open and she gasped for air.

He reached for his crossbow and the bolt plunged itself under the enemy's chin, right where two bite marks still bled. Her hands reached up at her throat. She tried to scream but only some gurgly noises came from her mouth, then her eyes rolled up and she fell.

Astarion pointed his weapon at the paladin, who was still in a lock with Karlach. They both looked pretty rough, but the tiefling had the upper hand. Seeing the elf ready to strike, she kicked the man away from her. The rogue shot a bolt which hit his thigh. The paladin fell to his knees: Karlach swung her axe one last time, beheading the traitor.

The bloodbath was over. They had only an instant to rest, before rushing to the mage: he was still alive, but he needed help. The drow could only dull his pain with a healing potion, but at least he was out of death’s door.

Karlach was enraged, panting heavily and clenching every muscle in her body, as if she was fighting against herself. She cursed at Zariel, growling like a bear.

“Burn their corpses, tear this whole place down.” Coughed Leeith, dragging Gale’s body outside. The barbarian roared and, in a burst of flames, split the desk in half. She swung her axe at every object in the room, setting the wooden floor on fire wherever she stepped.

Astarion and Leeith watched from a careful distance, both sitting down. The rogue barely had any scratch marks on his pretty, delicate face.

“I thought you weren’t going to need potions, darling.” Teased the vampire. The drow glared at him, as she checked the arrow sticking out of her abdomen: only part of the tip had managed to penetrate her skin but it still hurt like hell.

“Shut up, blood sucker- Nngh- Fuck!” She bit down on her glove and pulled out the arrow. Her scream was muffled, but tears formed in her eyes. After taking a few breaths, she untied the lower part of her gambeson, to check on the new soon-to-be scar she had acquired. Her shirt was all red and it hurt to lift up from the wound since it was stuck in it. Blood was pouring pretty copiously, but not enough to worry, and the wound looked clean, with the edges already starting to heal thanks to the potion.

An elegant porcelain finger caressed her hip, turning scarlet as blood pooled on the little crevices and wrinkles of the skin. As quick as it came, it disappeared, and Astarion ran his tongue over his hand, slowly and weirdly sensually. Leeith didn’t speak, but her expression still warranted an answer.

“It’s free blood, my sweet. Why should I let it go to waste? The pain makes its flavour even richer.” The vampire lips were very red with leftover blood; he licked them clean.

“You’re a gluttonous one. I fed you yesterday!” The drow uncorked another small vial and put it at Gale’s lips, slowly pouring the liquid down his throat. The mage coughed as he regained consciousness.

“Very much so, dear. I even fed on that woman who so gently killed you, but human blood is not even half as delectable as yours.” His voice was as soft as honey when he talked, flowing gently from his lips to her ear. He placed his hand on her sane hip, leaning closer.

“Cloud I- cough - not wake up to- you two flirting.” The mage’s voice was strained and low as he tried sitting up.

"Think you should thank your lucky stars that you woke up at all." Said Leeith, gently pushing Astarion away.

"How- fortunate." He breathed heavily, trying to steady his voice. "What happened to- speaking with the men? Surprise attacks should be a- gods- a surprise for them, not us."

"I got a bad feeling about it. A flash of our dead corpses if you will… more dead than now." The drow stood up, looking inside the building for the tiefling. She was sitting in a corner, panting. She seemed to have calmed down.

"Gods, another one of your flashes? Like with the bear?" Said the vampire with a mocking tone.

"Are you going to bring out the bear thing every time I remember I have to do something?" She said, turning around towards them.

"Absolutely yes. I love to twist the knife in the wound." He grinned reassuringly.

"That's what makes you truly charming, blood sucker." Said the drow, earning a hum of approval from Astarion.

"Thank you, darling. You're allowed to compliment me more."

"Sorry to- interrupt again, but you and I both still need medical assistance. Or are you going to stay- here to…" He waved his hands up in the air and a few sparkles and coloured smog came out. "Do your magic?"

"Huff, I suppose it's true. Though I would have been fine if someone didn’t kiss the ground first and break formation." The drow turned to the building again, and called out Karlach.

Once all together again, they decided to rest for a bit more, since Gale couldn’t walk nor anyone carry him. More resentment started to build up in Leeith, watching the wizard very slowly regain his ability to move, after popping another potion. If Shadowheart had been there, they would have already been patched up and ready to go, rather than lose precious time looking at the corpses rot.

The drow couldn't bear staying idle for more than fifteen minutes. She explored the premises alone, while the other three had fun and laughed, but didn’t find more than old food and some lockpicks. Her companions probably noticed how her brow furrowed and jaw clenched, while she looted the paladin’s corpse. It’s not that she wanted them to stop having fun while she ransacked the place, but she did feel a little better for receiving help. After entrusting the enchanted greatsword to Karlach, they went to the basement to loot some more. They unfortunately didn't find anything more than traps and some silver cutlery. She had a hunch there must have been some kind of sliding wall or invisible keyhole, but had no idea how to access it. Shadowheart had way keener eyes than the wizard: if she had been there, they would have been able to find the secret room.

The return to camp was just as frustrating: Wyll jumped right to Karlach's throat and had to be peeled off by Lae'zel. Leeith was at the last rope, but fortunately the barbarian was pretty understanding of the situation and managed to come to an agreement with her pursuer.

Only then was she able to be seen by the cleric, who very easily closed her wound. The drow blew off some steam, complaining to Shadowheart how bad Gale was and how much more she preferred her around. She cautiously accepted the compliments, then went to tend to the wizard.

Leeith left camp to find a river, bringing along just some soap and a large linen cloth. A few minutes later she laid in the frigid water of a lake, all sounds muffled by the water in her ears. Her heart beat slowed down and her body went numb from the cold. The sun had started its descending parabole, the sky wasn't pink yet; there was still much time before evening, but she just needed to relax for today.

And relax she will for once. Something caught her eye, a flash of white and red. With everything going so badly today, she had almost forgotten about Astarion's promise.

#baldurs gate astarion #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate fanfiction #sketch #astarion romance #character illustration #baldurs gate fanart #baldur's gate oc #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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evermorethecrow · 2 months

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EVERMORE THE CROW 1K SPECIAL..... EXPOSING MY PAST.................

ages ago when i was younger i had to write this letter talking about times i got injured for school work and it was so bad i went through it with a friend of mine and because i thought i wouldnt hit 1k before the end of the year saying id post it if i did.

AND NOW IVE DONE IT

so heres my letter :(

Dear sir, I chose to write about a dangerous situation I've been in but I found it so difficult to pinpoint one situation.I am such an impulsive and spontaneous person and I rarely think before I act .Therefore instead of just one dangerous situation I have composed. Before i start i would like to issue a warning under no circumstances should a person attempt to recreate any action in this list for it is ill advised and i don't want to go to court again Kind regards -------

Okay so let's start out small ,i mean like when i was small really small i couldn't walk, but oh boy i could climb and unfortunately for the better of my own health climb I did,climb out of my cot and i know because gravity people who drop out of things tend to have this annoying habit of hitting the floor.Lets just say my mum put PE mats on my bedroom floor after that.

Next…uhhhhh incident??? Oooh it's another escaping story maan maybe i should change my name to houdini or something,anyway this was a little later like i was able to walk (uh oh) i reckon i was good a walking, a little too good, my mum looked away from my pram for a second a second too long when she looked back i was gone, everyone in the park was looking for me and after 10 minutes of looking my mum saw me walk out the playground, i left and went to the playground.We went home after that.

Time for the third story I was two years old and was running buckwild in Greenwich Park and having a fun time, in fact I was having such a fun time I didn't hear my mum shout “LOOK OUT”. I had a comically large bump on my head got concussed and had to go to hospital, Not for too long though the very next day i got sent home for using a IV as a skateboard

Just a heads up befor the next story alot of these storys will be me being stupid and endeing up in hospital so if you have idiotphopia or are scared it would be advised to leave now or buy todays sponsor raycon earbuds.

Anyway next accident When i was five I was in bed as a five year old should be when I had a genius revelation Hmmm i I dont wanna use my legs to get out of bed so why not roll out instead….i did roll out of bed,right onto a plastic dinosaur and cut my eyelid, there was blood all over my face.But hey at least i got to meet an old friend of mine.The hospital waiting room.

So yeah you can probably see how i'm quite an accident prone person but i never really did anything that bad.SO WHO WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT THE TIME I JUMPED OFF MY SCOOTER WHILE GOING SUPER FAST ON IT DOWN A HILL? I was seven and i was at our local park blythe hill and my seven year old brain wanted nothing more than to go down that hill at record speeds on my scooter,and i'm not talking about one of those fancy stunt scooters no i'm talking about a kids micro scooter, you know , the one where you would always put elastic bands on it, any way I was about halfway down the hill when i decided I was going too fast on it and i could get hurt and since id never had an injury before i wanted to prevent that so what did i do? I jumped of the scooter I was a smart kid. I jumped off my scooter and pretty much removed all the skin on that side of my body and too make matters worse it got infected and i had to take antibiotics for 4 weeks. Fun times

As you can probably see i might be a bit reckless and might be a bit bad at planning ahead Which leads me to our next story, this ones a bit different you see this time I didn't actually get hurt. I was at a friend's house and that friend's house had a garden with a tree,a tree and a garage which was placed close to the tree, and I, being a master climber since birth, scaled the tree with ease. But that wasn't enough for me no I wanted to climb the garage.So i went across the tree to the branche nearest the garage ,and climbed on top of the garage,the lovely,brick garage.my friends dad came out and saw me on top of the garage simply chilling and as you can probably predict he asked me to get down so instead of doing the rational thing and using the tree to et down.. I jumped of the garage onto the stone floor.I didn't go to their house for a while after that

I have another garage related story,This was in 2017 I was nine surely I was smateer by then and learned my lesson Right……Right? Me and my siblings were playing marco polo out the front of our house (never a good sign) And it was my turn to be blindfolded and find my siblings.I decided to run straight forward and hit the brick wall between two garages , I fractured my nose, chipped my front tooth and had to go to hospital.oops.

Now they say save the best for last and boy did i. It was 2020(oh god ) and we were celebrating my mom's birthday and all was going smoothly, well until i decided to leave our living room by jumping out the room from the sofa.it didn't go as planned.yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah i jumped off the sofa hi my head on the top of the door landed on my arm and spent 5 hours in hospital on my mums birthday.

That's all we have time for today However here are some honorable mentions

.The time i used my scooter on a tall thin brick wall (someone really ought to take that thing of me honestly)

.All the times I hit my head on bins

.And that time this year I literally without thinking put the hairdryer on my face after I used It and burnt stripes into my face

Well thats the list of the most dangerous things ive done, of course ive done more dumb things but this paper has gone on long enough and I have school in the morning so bye I guess.

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

MY LIFE IS RUINED

#Evermore exposed

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chojrak-making-things · 2 months

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Being back to stairs I was talking earlier, I tried back then a few tricks to not demolish the whole house to add them the right way, and make sims actually be able to go down to the cellar. Conclusions were quite weird.

It's time consuming and frustrating to turn this:

into this:

I had to destroy most of floor and move quite a lot of furniture. When you use CFE code (contrainfloorelevation) the foundation pop-up really high.

[...]

I tried to use lifts. Lift from Into The Future was nice and minimalistic, but too shiny. I tried to used stencil remover to make it less shiny, but it didn't help. And I still had to pierce foundation, because EA refused to make it proper modular object like lift from Late Night EP (the one from Into The Future has second element appearing just moment after placement the bottom one).

I was curious if I could use Transmogrifier to turn small circle rugs into this lift, but not succeed. (one of them is placed under lift in corner)

Horus Eye was interesting choice, because I hardly ever use it. Sims cannot use it autonomously too. I tried to turn plant and small rug into Horus Eye by copying script but not succeed, because sims couldn't use it. I should use a painting, when I think about it now. Or something at the wall at least.

Then I tried to turn plant and rug into lift from Late Night EP by copying script, but not worked too. But then I used regular door and placed it on moveobjects without the wall. And it was working, however, it wasn't very discreet. xd

I think this interior that appeared after copying script, is what players of other games used to call projectiles. But don't know how to call it in The Sims.

And to finish this kind of senseless post, everytime I'm forced to use CFE cheat, I have to take revenge on my game and do this:

of course without saving :p

but it's still fun to see, that sims can still use house in this form, just like nothing has happened.

it kinda looks like witch hut, tbh.

wish I could leave the terrain shape from last picture, cause these hills looks wonderful.

#ts3 #the sims 3 #sims 3 #notes from building

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 2 years

Note

Hi! I hope you did well on your finals.

I’m wondering if there are any fics where Stiles still has part of void? Like he’s not possessed by him anymore but he still has powers and can get that evil dark like look. Maybe like a hunter they’d to fuck with the pack and stiles voids out and it scares the pack and hunters, something similar like that.

Thank you 🎄

Sure.

You're Telling Me... That Stiles Can Fight? by OhanaHoku

(13/? I 9,401 I Teen I Stalia)

Then he heard it. Felt it. A dark whisper somewhere in the back of his subconscious.

You know how to fight.

Robber Foxes (Have No Fears) by RayShippouUchiha

(5/? I 14,713 I Mature I Steter)

In the end all Stiles really has left is his dad, a lonely house, the key and deed to the loft, and a chest filled up with emptiness.

A void, yawning right behind his sternum.

That and the laughter of a fox trapped right beneath his skin, echoing in the hollows of his skull, whispering behind his teeth.

Stiles should have known it wasn’t over.

Magic stains everything it touches after all.

Don't (You) Forget About Me by LauraHaleIsABaddass2K21

(8/8 I 17,014 I Teen I Sterek)

"What the hell is a Stiles?"

Stiles' fingers shook as she sent the text - possibly the last words she would ever communicate to anyone. Stiles wanted to believe it was a good plan, that it would work, but that lingering doubt in the back of her head made her dizzy with nausea. This might be it.

Well, at least it's not something stupid like tripping down the stairs, because really, that was a bullshit way to go.

The lightning marks were fading, and it was waking up, and she could hear them coming. Well, shit. It was now or never.

Or: The ghost riders came earlier, and Stiles is a BAMF

Actual Wolves in California by fireflystiles (cuddlehazz)

(9/9 I 17,963 I General I Sterek)

Stiles sees a wolf in the woods and takes off running before his brain catches up with the situation.

Sparks and shadows by Nival_Vixen

(7/7 I 21,503 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles has to figure out a way to maintain a balance between his spark and the darkness inside of him.

Pulling the Pieces Together by fireflystiles (cuddlehazz)

(1/1 I 34,295 I Teen I Sterek)

“You never have hurt anyone. Not then and not now. You just made Coach piss his pants and that’s funny shit there.” Jackson told Stiles. They all underestimated how responsible Stiles felt for the Nogitsune and what happened. No wonder he was afraid to go near the pack, not to mention the whole no control over magic thing. He felt Stiles huff out a breath at the part about Coach which was a good start.

Or after the Nogitsune, Stiles keeps secrets, there are new people in Beacon Hills, and the Pack has fallen apart. Stiles starts to figure out his role in the pack, piecing it back together, and trying to keep everyone safe.

Time, Pressure and Time (Are All It Takes to Blow the Mine) by ADayDreamingDream (orphan_account), LittleRedRoamingWolf (orphan_account)

(16/16 I 35,890 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles leaves after the Nogitsune wakes latent Shadow Kitsune abilities that have been trapped inside Stiles and is now fighting with his Spark for control. With his life and those around him in danger because of the internal conflict Stiles feels that it is no longer safe to stay in Beacon Hills.

If You’re Going Through Hell (Keep Going) by orphan_account

(20/20 I 48,544 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles thought everything leading up to Allison’s death was hell, but he was wrong. Spending senior year dealing with the pack’s dismissal of him while secretly training to be Deaton’s replacement was hell. Feeling guilty and hating himself for what the Nogitsune did was hell. Being in love with someone who would never love him back was hell. Well, if you’re going through hell, keep going.

Seeds of the Nemeton by Endraking

(35/35 I 93,991 I Teen I Stisaac)

Post Season 3/ Season 4 AU. Stiles stumbles into a world of danger separate from the pack but with Isaac and Ethan as they fight a different threat to Beacon Hills.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #magic!stiles #steter #peter hale #stisaac #isaac lahey #stalia #malia tate

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themuseoftheviolets · 10 months

Text

former friends

sat down to write 'til my dying day last night but ended up writing emmeline and pandora post first war angst instead. so here, have this: (this was intended as platonic but i feel like it can also be read as romantic from pandora's side)

wc: 1,148

On top of a hill behind a house in the shape of a rook, stands a place of rest. It is not quite a graveyard, and there no bodies buried there, no uneasy souls to haunt the people who live within it's space.

Emmeline approaches the gravestones and spits on them.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asks, keeping her gaze on the plaques. The first one reads beloved friend, the second beloved brother. Emmeline feels rage forming in the pit of her stomach. That word doesn't belong there, to these people. There is nothing about them to love anymore.

At least not for Emmeline. But for the woman that is standing behind her, they were worth loyalty that they didn't deserve.

"Because I wanted to see you, because I miss you." Pandora says, and Emmeline scoffs.

"You lost the right to miss me when you sided with them." There is venom on her tongue now, spitting poison onto every person she talks to. It has been this way for years, she can no longer remember what it felt like to be soft.

"I didn't choose a side." Pandora says, stubborn and unyielding, like she's always been.

"But you did.” Emmeline argues, and her voice is raspy and ragged. “You saw the snakes on their arms and you still let them be in your life. You chose them."

“They were my friends.”

“I was your friend!” Emmeline snaps, turning around to face Pandora. She looks both sixteen and sixty, both light and heavy. She has a baby strapped to her chest, a child that Emmeline has never met, a child that she should have met. She takes a deep breath, holds it for as long as she can until it starts to burn her lungs, then releases. “And you sure as hell didn’t choose me.”

"You chose to erase six years of history." Pandora says. Her voice isn’t the same anymore, changed by years of screaming matches and curses. It’s a wonder their vocal cords still work at all, Emmeline thinks. “You love them, I know you do. You can say whatever you want to your new friends, tell whichever lie helps you sleep at night, but I know you want them back just as much as I do.”

“No, I don’t.” Emmeline shakes her head. The lie comes easily, after years of practice. She has told it to herself and to Dorcas and to every person in the Order. She tells it to her reflection in the mirror everyday, repeats it like affirmations whenever she looks at the stick and poke tattoo on her leg that she let Evan do in sixth year; the one matching with Barty, the design that Regulus drew for them.

I hate them, she thinks, I hope they rot in hell. Fuck Regulus Black, fuck Evan Rosier, fuck Barty Crouch Jr.

Sometimes, she’ll say fuck Pandora, too.

I hope their deaths were slow and painful, I hope Barty suffers for the rest of his life.

On particularly hard nights, she’ll drink half a bottle of firewhiskey and she’ll wish that Pandora is miserable for the rest of her life.

But now, when she looks into her former friend’s eyes, looks at the bundle of white hair resting against her chest, she can’t quite bring herself to curse her.

“I miss you.” Pandora says, and Emmeline knows it’s true. Pandora is many things, but a liar is not one of them. She and Emmeline are opposites that way. “Don’t you miss me?”

“I can’t forgive you.” Emmeline lies again, because she can’t help it. Cruelty sits at the tip of her tongue, the truth lays buried deep inside her chest.

Pandora looks hurt by it, and in this moment Emmeline hates herself more than she hates her former friends.

“I am not asking you to forgive me, or them.” Pandora says, taking a step forward. She is eye to eye with Emmeline and stares her down with a courage that Emmeline has never possessed. All she wants to do is look away, avoid Pandora's presence because it is easier to tell herself she never wants to see her again that way. Easier to lose someone you love when you're not seeing them everyday. “I want you in my life again, Emmy, I want you in Luna’s life. You were supposed to be her godmother, you and Re–”

She cuts herself off but Emmeline knows what she was going to say. You and Regulus, my best friends, my child’s protectors. Guilt is an ocean in her mind that she dives in daily, anger is the sand she lays on when she dries herself off.

It wasn't always this way. Before any hints of war, before there were lines drawn and sides chosen, before Emmeline chose Dorcas and her friends and Pandora chose the friends with the Dark Mark on their arms; before all of that, they were a tight group, a family.

Emmeline, Pandora, Evan, Barty, Regulus.

But now the war is over and Regulus and Evan are dead, Barty is in Azkaban, and Emmeline and Pandora are still on a battlefield but Pandora is laying down her weapons, waving a white flag while Emmeline is still aiming an arrow at her chest.

“I love you, Emmy.” Pandora says, her eyes filling with tears. It breaks Emmeline’s heart, rips it right out of her chest. “I want you back.”

She could stay, could go inside the house and meet Pandora’s new life and be a part of it. She could stop fighting and she could admit that she misses her friends. She could hold Luna in her arms and tell her bedtime stories.

She doesn’t. Instead, Emmeline chooses to break Pandora’s heart in return.

“I’m leaving.” She tells her, voice firm and leaving no room for arguments. “Mary and I are moving away.”

“Mary,” Pandora spits her name like it’s poison. “Mary Macdonald, isn’t it? Your new friends’ friend. You’re choosing her instead of me.”

“Yes.”

Pandora turns to look at the gravestones and Emmeline wants to ask her if it was worth it, if they were worth it. She wants to say I told you so, to rub it in Pandora’s face that she made the wrong choice, and has lost Emmeline because of it. That Evan, Regulus and Barty were never going to change, that she should have cut them off like Emmeline did. That she should have chosen a side and that it shouldn't have been theirs. She wants to poke at Pandora's wounds until they are as big and bloody as her own. Until there is no hope of healing.

Was it worth it? Would you do it again?

She doesn’t, though, and Pandora simply nods and says, “I hope you’re happy.” before going back inside her house.

Emmeline is left standing in the ruins of her own heart.

#omg i totally forgot to post this earlier #in my defense the passage of time isn't real #emdora #pandaline #emmeline vance #pandora lovegood #minifics #lia's writing adventures

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terrence-silver · 1 year

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I just finished season five of Cobra Kai and saw what happened to Terry :( could we have some post season five beloved and Terry fluff? This ending needs some fixing

---

He wakes up on a familiar set of laid out silk sheets.

In his bed.

Glendower Avenue. Beverly Hills.

Terry Silver had the most peculiarly innate, complicated and nonsensical dream vivid even now, lingering, with the sun peeking through the heavy brocade curtains Milos promptly opens with his usual, curt 'Good Morning, Mr. Silver. You've a call from Hong Kong scheduled at eight. Which robe would you like this morning?' --- a usual, well-rehersed ritual. He had a genuine nightmare, he'd dare even say, for accuracy's sake, and even though Terry trained himself not to be affected or controlled by such things after the war through sheer discipline, this was one was something else; John has betrayed him. Terry betrayed him right back. The cops got involved. They didn't talk for thirty years previously --- too much bad blood between them appearantly. What the fuck did that even mean? Dynatox was more or less defunct and obsolete? His...life's work. Terry was miserably involved and equally uninvolved with Gwyneth Paltrow's more annoying cousin in a passionless arrangement and a peanut gallery of equally fucked up, stifling individuals and he became someone else due to it. He sold this house. Why did he sell this house and move out to Malibu? Where were Snake and Dennis? His old staff? Cobra Kai ceased to be for decades, and then it came back and ceased to be again. That Lawrence schmuck an obstacle at every turn, for some reason. Mike Barnes the narcoleptic furniture salesman. Someone called Sensei Joe. Someone who reminded him of Lady Snowblood from that crap movie he saw during his trip to Japan back in the 70's. The Larusso kid was a car salesman who crane kicked him into a glass trophy stand. Who the fuck is Stingray?

He should really lay off the champagne.

Or at least, have Margaret order him a batch of something of even grander quality.

Something that doesn't induce, well --- that shit.

-"My usual pintstripe."- He clarifies on his choice of bathrobe and then continues, slightly stiff, loathing the sensation of being quite so affected; -"Milos. What year is it?"-

He sits up in his bed and he genuinely has to ask, because that --- living hallucination, psychedelic nighttime trance, vision, coke fuelled high or whatever the fucking bullshit that was --- it felt real. Too real. Tangible enough to touch and sense under his fingertips like pulsating flesh. More real than any dream about Vietnam he could ever hope to have even years later. Ending in him led away in the back of a police car like a common criminal. And then he bolted awake. No longer gray and old and so decrepit and lost. -"1985, sir. June 25th."- Milos clarifies, removing the silk peignoir from the closet on it's silver hanger and rolling over his hand, waiting to help him drape himself into once he was ready to get up, being ever so professional in his attentions towards him as Terry adorned himself with the barrage of rings and his gold Rolex neatly placed on the night table, checking for time, trying to distract himself from the reeling, haunting sensation he felt, covered in cold sweat even as he slept entirely in the nude; something his staff was accustomed to by now. -"Are you alright, sir?"- Milos has to ask as Terry gets up, bolting off from the California king-size mattress and covers his nudity in satin, tying the sash around his waist, shaking himself off, cracking his shoulders and neck to get circulation back into his body. He needed to get to exercising right away and de-stress. That's it. Kick some air. Some of his sparring partners, preferably, determined to get himself back into gear and...shake this feeling of dread off.

Some Freddy Krueger bullshit this was.

-"No, I'm not fucking alright!"- Terry seethes, hissing, displeased and not making an effort to conceal it, sauntering towards his master bedroom's door in wide strides, affixing his gelled down hair into a state of order, Milos following his every step diligently. -"Have this bed thrown out and order a new one! I haven't slept well. I want it out by time I come back! Or better yet --- now!"- Terry halts, speaking firmly and feeling like himself again when he was out giving orders, pointing a bejewelled index finger back towards where he had the unfortunate...whatever...and Mr. Dadok nods with a prompt 'Yes, sir.' Fact is, everything that provided him with a nightmare where he and John fell out didn't deserve to exist. Should be burned on Sunset Boulevard like a witch. Terry slams the bedroom door and angrily huffs down the brutalist brick foyer, grand and intimidating, just like he liked and remembered it...just yesterday. He must've slept deep. Deep like the dead. Felt, subjectively, like he was gone for years. He wasn't. He was just smoking a Cohiba in his jacuzzi yesterday.

-"Mrs. Silver is in the dining hall, waiting for you to join her for breakfast."-

Following suit behind him, Milos alerts him of you.

Another thing clicks into place.

And relief. There's relief. Sense. Order. You.

Terry Silvers hastens his speed until he can barely be kept up with.

He needs to see you. Assure that you're real. Not illusory.

He needs to call Johnny too.

---

(I can do you one better --- far better; The entirety of Cobra Kai as a show was merely a bad dream Terry Silver had.)

#i am so sorry you needed to experience the ending of season 5 #(hugs anon)#maybe this will raise your mood a bit?#terry silver #humor #fluff #au #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #80's terry silver #milos dadok #margaret spencer #john kreese #nightmares #cobra husbands #fix-it

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ljf613 · 2 years

Text

On Ships With Age Gaps

I've thought about writing a post like this for a long time, but I always decided against it because I don't feel the need to justify anything I say (or do, or enjoy, or ship, or write) to the good people of tumblr.

However, I do think that there are some people on here who, rather than being actively cruel or hateful towards certain shippers/writers, are just really confused or grossed out and don't understand why we people like these things and don't want to just assume that we're all degenerate freaks, and that maybe they might benefit from learning my story.

(Note that this is just my story. Other people may or may not have their own stories, which may or may not resemble mine-- the point is that these stories exist, and that just because you don't understand doesn't mean there isn't a reason.)

I was in middle school when I first realized that I had a (very normal) problem: I was attracted to guys, but boys my age were obnoxious. (Every heterosexual female reading this is nodding their head in sympathy.) Many of them made rude jokes, and said nasty things, and most of them were just generally immature and irresponsible and not-at-all crush-worthy.

Adult guys, on the other hand, were nice and sweet and smart and mature (*insert laughter here*). They knew how to be responsible, and how to treat girls right and take care of the people who mattered to them. They were ready to get married and settle down in a house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids. (You get the idea. Give me a break, I was, like, eleven or twelve and most of the men in my life really were great guys in happy and stable marriages.)

So, like many other girls my age, I fantasized about attractive twenty-something-year-olds falling madly in love with me. (I can not hammer this home enough: this is perfectly normal behavior.)

But at the same time, I knew that this sort of relationship was obviously something I was not in any way ready for, and, in any case, I didn't actually know very many attractive single guys in this age range. (Because why would I?)

So, instead, like any normal kid, I gravitated toward stories I could live vicariously through. Stories about about girls my own age (or maybe a little older) who fell for guys who loved them back. Guys who were willing to wait for them. Or at the very least guys who treated them like equals, and, once they were old enough, might start seeing them in more of a romantic light.

The very first relationship like this that I remember falling for was Sesshomaru and Rin from Inuyasha.

(Actually, my first real adult/minor ship was probably Lux and Eric from Life Unexpected, but after that dumpster-fire of an ending, I didn't want to think about anything related to that show ever again.) (Although it did introduce me to One Tree Hill, which is still one of my favorite shows of all time, so I guess it did something right.) (And Nathan and Haley probably also fit the bill-- Nathan wasn't an adult, but he was mature and responsible and ready to settle down. TV really should bring back teen marriage plotlines instead of endless cycles of love triangles.)

I discovered anime in seventh grade, and Inuyasha was my second real anime. (In case you're wondering, Fairy Tail was my first.) I quickly fell in love with Rin (who was an example of what would become one of my favorite character archetypes), and her relationship with Sesshomaru fascinated me.

Here you had this demon who hated humans, only to be bewildered when one try to help him, leading him to use a part of his heritage that he'd been rejecting until now in order to save her. And then she just. Follows him. And he lets her? And he just spends the entire series treating her like an equal and letting her do literally whatever she wants?

(To those who read them as father and daughter: uh, if I saw a parent with this sort of laissez-faire approach to child-raising, I would be very concerned. He treats her like a traveling companion and constantly defers to her wishes. She gets kidnapped and he only comes to rescue her when he's sure that's what she wants? Very parental of him.)

And then when he's finally about to reach the goal he's been working towards this entire time, he gives it up the moment Rin gets hurt. ("Nothing was worth losing her?" ICONIQUE, nobody is doing it like him!) And then in the final battle, he fights alongside the same people he was trying to kill when we first met him. All because Rin has taught him that humans have worth, that weakness isn't a sin, that there are more important things than strength and hatred? Are you kidding me?

I've already gone into my love for this ship here, so I'm not going to repeat the whole thing, but I will say that I loved what we saw of them in the finale-- the two of them separated, so that Rin could grow up and decide what she wanted out of their relationship. Because he was willing to wait for whatever choice she decided to make.

This was a game changer for me. It was exactly what I hadn't realized I was looking for. I needed more. What followed was a love for various other wholesome bonds between protective/traumized men and the girls who taught them about love.

Naofumi and Raphtalia of Rising of the Shield Hero (talk about clueless guys-- he seriously managed to convince himself that he only saw her as daughter because he had no other frame of reference and had been so traumatized by the last girl he liked), Kyoko and Katsuya (dude was more than willing to wait for her and only stepped in when she needed him to be there for her? Find me another man this swoon-worthy) and Kureno and Arisa of Fruits Basket (I normally don't buy love-at-first-sight, but for these two cuties I'll suspend my disbelief), Zack and Rachel of Angels of Death (the age gap is the least problematic thing here), Mamoru and Haruka of Until Death Do Us Part (the man literally laughed the idea of their relationship off until he couldn't anymore. And then, again, he let her go and waited until she was ready), Satoru and Airi of Erased (the soulmatism!), Accelerator and Last Order of A Certain Magical Index (alright, fine, I've never been able to decide if I prefer these two to stay purely platonic or eventually fall in love, but whatever they have I adored), and many, many others.

But the thing here is that none of these relationships are the main focus of their respective series. I wasn't going out and actively looking for these ships, but when they showed up in the stories I loved I would certainly enjoy them. (Love stories were cute and all, but magic and adventure were way more interesting to middle-school me.)

It was only when I was in high school and I started getting more into romantic stories that began actively seeking out the sort of thing I was looking for. Seiji and Shiharu of Love So Life are still near and dear to my heart (my guy buys her a ring, tells her he'll never want anyone else, refuses to let her reciprocate, and doesn't go near her for almost six years to make sure that she doesn't choose him until she's really ready. KING), Mao and Hiro of House of the Sun will never stop being adorable (Taamo's drawing style is so stinkin' cute), The Start of Niina is as heartbreakingly lovely as ever (the gift and trauma of reincarnation!), and Faster Than a Kiss is a gem (another great guy who does his best to take care of the girl he loves but won't lay a hand on her until she's ready).

And it wasn't just age gap stories. Because the age gap wasn't the real point-- the point was mature guys who were ready to commit and smart girls who knew a good thing when they saw it. Which is why I also devoured stories about teens getting married (please bring these back, western media) and arranged marriages ("we may not have wanted this but we are going to make it work"). The World is Still Beautiful remains one of my favorite fantasy-romances, Absolute Peace Strategy is hilarious, I really need to reread Prince of Silk and Thorn, Dawn of the Arcana is fantastic, Taisho Maiden Fairytale is super-cute, etc. etc. (This is not an exhaustive list, btw-- feel free to DM me or drop an ask if you're looking for more in any of these genres.)

Once I discovered fandom, fanon, and shipping culture, it was a given that my love for these dynamics would cross over into media where such things weren't canon.

(And, for the nth time, all of this was perfectly normal and understandable behavior for a girl my age.)

These were stories and tropes I adored. But they were stories. Fiction. They were not reality. And even at the very earliest stages of this interest, I understood the difference.

When I was in seventh or eighth grade, there was an incident involving one of my female classmates and a twenty-something-year-old male student-teacher. I was not directly involved (I barely knew the girl) and I wasn't exactly asking for details (I've always prefered to stay out of real-world drama if I can), but middle school girls are loud and I have good ears, so I was pretty sure I got the gist. (Years later, I spoke with one of the other teachers who'd been involved with handling the aftermath, and she confirmed and added some more context.)

To simplify, the teacher in question had somehow gotten a hold of the girl's phone number and had been sending her texts that were not appropriate for a grown man to be sending to a thirteen year old girl. This made her highly uncomfortable, but she was too scared to say anything-- it wasn't as though there was anything explicit or overtly sexual (he told her how pretty she was, and how much he looked forward to seeing her every day, and I do not know or want to know what else)-- and she didn't want to look like she was make a big deal out of nothing. But when her friends found out, they immediately said "this is not okay," and marched her to the nearest female teacher to confess the whole thing. (Good for them!)

Again, I was not directly involved. I did not discuss the subject with any of my classmates, I was obviously not present when the school staff spoke with the guy, and I have no idea what exactly the school policy was for this sort of thing. All I saw from my end was a crying girl being comforted by her friends as they dragged her off, and within the next day or two we were told that this teacher would be ending his postion early (he'd been supposed to leave soon, regardless, as he was only a temp). I never saw him again.

And there was never a question in my mind that this man's behavior was deplorable, that this story should never have happened, and that this girl was a victim of a horrible injustice.

(I have a vivid recollection of being outraged when another teacher-- who happened to be related to him (probably how he'd gotten the job, I don't remember ever our school having had a student-teacher before or after)-- told us he was being forced to leave earlier than planned like we were supposed to be sad about it, and then insisted we make a good-bye card for him (while making snide comments under her breath about how some people needed to learn to keep their mouths shut). (I honestly don't remember whether or not I helped decorate the stupid thing, or what the girl did while this was happening.) I was not old enough or mature enough to fully realize that what this other teacher did was also hideously inappropriate and ought to have been reported as well, but I did know that it was nasty and underhanded and I didn't like it. (This was not the only time when this teacher behaved obnoxiously or passive-aggressively insulted a student for bringing a complaint to the school staff or doing something else she disliked (I was on the receiving end at least once or twice, but that's another story), and she did not return the next year. Good riddance.))

In any case, despite the fact that age gap stories (and even the occasional teacher-student romance) were something I liked seeing in media, I recognized the clear distinction between fiction and reality, and what was right and wrong. I didn't even need to think about it. Even at thirteen, when I didn't fully understand what was and wasn't appropriate behavior for a teacher, this was something I understood perfectly.

And to anyone reading this and saying, "alright, fine, so you liked age gap relationships as a kid because they let you vicariously live out your perfectly ordinary teenage fantasies, but you're not fifteen anymore. Isn't it time you moved on?":

People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Y'all still read/watch the same stories you enjoyed as children-- that's why you're in these fandoms to begin with. If you can understand still loving those things as adults, it shouldn't be much of a leap to grasp me liking the same sort of fictional relationship dynamics I did in high school.

(Which isn't to say those are the only kind of ships I like. They never were. But I'll probably always have a soft spot for them.)

TL;DR: I initially got into age gap ships because they let preteen me fantasize about a hot older guy sweeping me off my feet. No, this did not prevent me from recognizing predatory behavior from real adults. No, I'm not letting go of the things I liked as a kid just because they make you uncomfortable.

#shipping #thoughts #real life #age difference #pro ship #anti anti shipping #anime #sessxrin #otp: nothing was worth losing her #tw harassment #and for the record if there's any sort of supernatural power that affects a character's aging #complaining about age differences in their relationships is ridiculous #there isn't even the excuse that 'fiction influences reality' or 'this will normalize problematic behavior'#because no real person is meeting any 500 year old vampires #are you seriously worried that some minor is going to meet a cyborg and think that it's a good idea to fall in love with them?#give me a break #and that's the tea #all queued up

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