he learned about women

*shrugs* maybe people point out OP is a terf/terf-supporter because it can change the context (or rather, make it more clear) of the post, or maybe some people just really don’t want to interact with someone who supports people who are actively against them/hate them for who they are and I mean you can think whatever you want about that but dismissing them as childish/derailing is kinda naive

FUCK YOU ISAYAMA FOR MAKING ME SHIP THEM

anonymous asked:

Hi! what do you think about a relationship between an older woman and an younger guy? (when both are legal ofc) Do you think is problematic? Because a lot of people think is something weird and even disgusting sometimes

They think it’s disgusting because there is an age difference or because it’s the woman who is older?  

I have this female friend who was meeting guys from internet dating sites.  A few times she met guys who said they were much younger in their profile than they are in real life.  Example: They say they are 30 when in real life they are 40.  These guys told her that they felt like they had to lie about their age because they wanted to date girls in their 20′s but they would be discriminated against if the girls knew their real age and they wouldn’t even get a chance to date them and prove themselves first.  You know… because these guys only wanted to date younger women.  How do they not see the irony in this??? Some people are seriously fucked up.  The point being that some men feel that younger women are the only people worthy of their attentions and actively discriminate against women their own age or older.  This has been going on forever and is deeply embedded in many cultures. It’s been a long standing tradition that no one bats an eye at an older man with a  younger woman, but those same people flip out if it’s an older woman with a younger man.  It’s kinda pathetic.

But in real life, people are attracted to other people based on qualities that may not have anything to do with age.  I think it makes sense that people’s instinct is to try to find a mate close in age to themselves, mostly because you would be at a similar stage of life and likely have more in common than with someone significantly older or younger than yourself.  But the older you get, the less these age differences matter.  A 20 year old dating a 30 year old feels like a massive age difference.  But that same 10 year gap feels less significant if you talk about a 35 year old dating a 45 year old.  Or a 55 year old dating a 65 year old.  

And a lot of time, when you first start dating someone, you don’t know how old they are.  In Korea, they might ask you how old you are as soon as they meet you… but in most of the western world, that would be rude to ask.  So sometimes you find yourself with someone that you’ve been dating a few times and then realize “Crap! This person is way younger than I thought he/she was!”  I was on a second date with someone and only realized that he was significantly younger than me when I started piecing together when he talked about how long he had been working at his job and that it was his first job after graduating university.  A colleague of mine in her early 50′s found herself with a guy in his mid 20′s and neither one of them realized how old the other was until after they slept together the first time.  They both knew that she was older than him, but no one stopped to figure out exactly how much older.  Ultimately, he was cool with continuing dating but she called it off because she was freaked out by dating someone close in age to her own children.

I also know plenty of people who are in successful relationships where the two parties have an age gap.  I don’t care what the sex or gender of the people are.  Older man,  younger woman.  Older woman, younger man.  Same sex couples. If both parties are in the relationship because they truly enjoy each others company and they are happy with their situation, then it’s nobody else’s business what the age difference is.

STOP asking for more Firefly




STAHP. There is no other way to start this.  I loved Firefly and even more I adored Serenity.  I took the day off school and saw every screening of Serenity that day.  By the end of opening weekend I had seen the film seven times.  Total I ended up seeing that film about 12 times in theaters.  Even more in life.  Firefly was the shit.  Firefly was that thing I couldn’t love more for so long.  

Firefly, as it turns out, has a lot of problems.  Especially if you are a hashtag woke person.  There are really great elements.  The actors live and breathe these characters and if they were to come back to them today those actors could likely embrace those rolls once again.  But like I said, there are a bunch of problems.  

Let’s go with the big one.  Firefly is a big universe about the idea of what if American and Chinese cultures merged.  If after all is said and done, the only cultures that survive moving out to space was American(Mostly white) and Chinese cultures.  So why is it that casual fans don’t know this.  Why is it that most people who know this only know it because someone told them, or because Joss mentioned it in the special features of Firefly’s original DVD set way back in 2003?  

It’s almost as if there is something missing.  Something Key.  Oh, I meant someone.  That someone being FUCKING CHINESE PEOPLE.  You don’t get to just call two characters who are white with white parents the last name Tam.  White Skin is not the mixture of other races.  

Actually, other than Book and Zoe, where are the other people of color?   This is a genuine problem because not only are all of the speaking roles in the show pretty much just white people, so are the background players.  It is really quite strange.  If it was just the core worlds, I’d maybe understand it because the Alliance would definitely support Eugenics, but it is quite the weird situation.  

If you didn’t realize that Book was the magical negro and that Zoe was a stereotypical violent Black Woman, time for you to go to your room and learn about looking at non-white characters in media works.  

I know that a lot of people Love Joss.  They love that he is this self-proclaimed feminist and he’s all about these great female characters.  But he doesn’t like to talk about race.  He doesn’t like to really talk about sexual orientation*.  He doesn’t really like to talk about Trans characters.  I’m not just talking about he as a person, but the works he produces.  And when he touches on any of these subjects, it’s the lightest of touches and it really isn’t a big exploration so much as the media equivalent of click bait.  

Again, look at Firefly.  That is a whole fuck ton of straight characters, and a Bi Sex worker.  Whose Bi-ness only comes up when they want a joke for a male character, and not development for Inara.  But, Inara is a great reason why I’m glad the show never kept going.  Fun Fact:  Joss originally wanted to do a story about a drug that Inara takes.  This drug would kill anyone that rapes the person who takes it.  They were going to have Inara kidnapped by Reavers and when she was found, they would all be dead because of this drug.  Yes, Joss wanted to have the Sex Worker in the future where Sex Workers are super respected gang raped.  He thought this was a progressive and edgey story.  Then again, he set up a future where Sex Workers are respected and everything is done to keep them out of danger, and has the “likable” main character Mal slut shame her at every chance, while he was totally willing to slut around with YoSaffBridge and Nandi.  Again “Progressive”.  

And isn’t it so progressive that they have white people pepper in Chinese into their dialogue only for most of that dialogue just to be nonsensical cursing?  Or very basic thank yous or calling someone sister.  So progressive.  

So everytime you ask for more Firefly you are asking for more of this shit.   Personally?  I want something knew that doesn’t have to live with that baggage.  If Joss really wants to make a scifi feminism show, he needs to learn about TransWomen and including more women of color as leads.  One is not good enough.  

With that said, one of my favorite fan theories is that Firefly, Blade Runner, Alien, and Predator all exist in the same amalgam universe.  

What?

Just because I hate on the fandom and think the creator has a long way to go to get better, doesn’t mean I don’t still have some love for this very flawed work.  

Sex Ed (TG/AP)

Will had been waiting in the classroom for 10 minutes for class to begin. The other students simply killed time through conversation, but Will was actually intrigued by this class and wanted it to start as soon as possible. The principal then walked in and announced to the class that the Sex Ed teacher would be a substitute teacher today as their regular teacher had fallen ill. The principal placed a textbook on the desk before leaving, telling the students it would only be another few minutes before the substitute teacher showed up. More time passed and Will continued to grow impatient. Eventually, he got up and walked towards the desk. The other students paid little attention to him, but as he opened the book and began to flip through it he felt a wave of lightheadedness overtake him. He leaned against the desk as he continued to flip through the book, looking at images of sexual acts and absorbing new information about the act of mating. He suddenly stopped on a page about female anatomy as he felt a tingle begin to spread across his body. With a lurch, he grabbed the desk and braced himself against it as he began to grow.

              He looked at his arms as they grew longer, cracking at the joints. His fingers elongated as his nails lengthened and became polished. His spine began to feel like a snake beneath his skin, slithering and shifting as it expanded upwards. His legs also lengthened with a crack, and soon he was standing at least a few inches taller than he was before. He watched himself grow slightly taller still as his sneakers morphed into a feminine pair of red heels. He felt his feet shift and grow to fill his new shoes, but as he looked down at his changing body he noticed that the rest of his clothes were beginning to morph. His jeans tightened as they began to transform into a pair of fishnet leggings. The skin beneath his new leggings became smooth and hairless as a tight, black skirt materialized around his waist. As the new garment completed itself, he felt a pressure beginning to build in his hips. With another loud crack, his hips jutted outwards, leaving him with a figure ready for childbearing.

              As he looked at his new hips, he began to notice how feminine his body was becoming. He looked back at the textbook laying open on the desk and began to piece together what was happening. He was becoming a woman, but he had no idea why. With another look at the textbook, he realized what was coming next. He felt his underwear transform into a tight fitting thong that pushed his member against his thighs. It was extremely uncomfortable for a moment, but a sudden pulse of pleasure came from his groin as it began to invert itself. He couldn’t help but moan as his member was swallowed up by the flesh between his legs. He looked at the diagram of the female reproductive system in the textbook as he felt his internal organs beginning to shift. An alien cavern opened up between his legs as a fertile womb materialized in his abdomen. He wanted to reach between his legs and touch his new sex, but he was afraid of losing his balance if he let go of the desk. His new clit began to tingle more as his thong rubbed against his moistening pussy lips. As new ovaries began to pump hormones through his system, he shot through puberty and began to have thoughts of fucking cute guys at the club. He tried to fight his new desires, but it wasn’t long before another wave of pleasure coursed through his body that came from his chest. His shirt began to change into a revealing red top as two breasts became visible beneath his changing clothes. He moaned in a deeper feminine voice as a new bra tickled his enlarging nipples. He looked down at his new top as it tightened around his growing breasts, pushing them together and revealing some alluring cleavage. By the time his breasts stopped growing, the only thing he could think of was a man groping his boobs and teasing his neck with kisses.

              He began to sweat profusely as thoughts of sex made him more excited. He wanted to fight his new thoughts, but the idea of a man overpowering him was becoming more and more alluring. He looked down at his new body again and began to appreciate how good he looked, but he also noticed strands of black hair beginning to enter his field of view. His scalp tingled as his hair grew past his shoulders. A wave of changes then overtook his face as it rapidly matured, leaving him with a face that would make any guy lust after him. His ears tickled as two earrings pierced his cartilage and weighed his earlobes down. Finally, a decorative necklace materialized and sat perfectly between his new boobs. With the physical changes finally slowing down, he let go of the desk and regained his balance. Walking in heels felt natural to him, and he noticed how much his hips swayed with each step now. He looked at the class, but it seemed that they were completely oblivious to his transformation. He curiously touched the necklace on his chest, but as his fingers made contact, a spark jumped between the necklace and his fingers and send a surge of new memories into his mind. He suddenly remembered getting his degree at university and meeting his boyfriend in college. He remembered taking education classes and applying for a job as a substitute teacher. He remembered learning about the sexual anatomy of men and women, and he had suddenly memorized everything in that textbook. The most powerful memories, however, were the new memories of her sexual adventures with all the cute boys that chased her through school.  

              With a sexy smirk, the new teacher turned around and began to draw on the chalkboard. As she finished writing her notes for the class, she turned around and called the class to attention. She felt a rush as the boys in the class began to ogle her body, and even though she had a boyfriend already, she was exhilarated by people lusting after her. She sat on the desk and opened her legs slightly, teasing the boys in the class with a brief view of her crotch before crossing her legs and pushing her cleavage forward. She knew the boys were drooling over her, but she had a job to do.

              “Alright class, pay attention. It’s time to open your books to chapter 1…” 

I like the running joke on “Leverage” about how Elliot will have random knowledge about fashion because of all the models he’s dated, or about planes because of the stewardesses he’s dated, etc etc etc. Sure, on the surface it’s an easy “Elliot is a player” joke, but he also actually listens and learns when these women talk about their jobs are the things they care about.

anonymous asked:

how could ryuji be the best if hes constantly making lewd comments about women

*cracks knuckles* WE GON’ LEARN TODAY SON

To begin, I think there’s inherently a weird flaw in Ryuji’s writing (or perhaps a localization/translation issue) in that the very thing you mention doesn’t make sense for his personality. I’ll admit I love that boy more than anything so I’m a bit quick to defend him, but also if I take myself outside of that for a sec, it genuinely doesn’t line up. I don’t know if Ryuji started out as like, Pervy Bro and they were like “oh we can’t make him a straight up dick” or if he started off an empathetic, loyal character and they were like “oh but we need someone to be the horny teenage boy” (I’m inclined to think the latter). Either way, Ryuji is very protective and responsive to the girls on the team. Let’s take a look at what I think of as True Ryuji (tru-uji if you will hahahaha i hate myself too it’s ok), and just fyi SPOILERS. I haven’t finished the game yet so not full game spoilers but just-before-5th-palace-spoilers.

When Ann walks into the metaverse, his priority is her safety, not some dumb “oh this GIRL is gonna SLOW US DOWN” shit–which, if Ryuji is Typical Bro, would’ve been his reaction. He’s also extremely motivated by the mistreatment of girls, especially Ann, by Kamoshida. Also the physical abuse, of course, but his first insult tends to be calling Kamoshida a pervert and gross and whatnot which leads me to think he has a bigger problem with Kamoshida’s sexual abuse than his physical (WHICH IS SAYING SOMETHING seeing as how Ryuji was a victim of the physical abuse). Ryuji is beyond impressed with Makoto and her persona’s awakening, arguably the most out of the entire team, and in full, active, vocal support of it–not to mention he literally jumps into traffic to stop a car so we can hurry and save Makoto. He is the first to run to Futaba when she falls down AND when Ann is pushing Futaba’s boundaries during the closet scene, Ryuji is very insistent that Ann should not continue. In the end we get the info we’re looking for and Futaba comes out applause all around good job Ann etc etc etc but Ryuji’s sensitivity to Futaba and her feelings was like….so refreshing to me?? Esp as someone with anxiety?? That was so touching idc if i sound like a cheeseball I KNOW IT’S A VIDEO GAME but my boy was so pure. THENNN when Haru is getting harassed, Ryuji is first to arrive (shoutout to track team and long legs) and immediately takes up a defensive position. He demands that her fiance leave her alone because she’s our friend–which, at this point in time, is basically a lie. He also is first to run to her when she falls and immediately agrees to having her rest, offering our attic as the resting place without asking (knowing there’s no problem with it) and even tho he’s been beefin’ with Morgana he puts Haru before that and works with Morgana to get Haru to safety.

And that’s just the phantom thieves girls!!! There’s so many other instances where he’s A GOOD BOY (the old lady at the station *tear*, willingly provoking the Shadows so we can escape even tho it means certain death, unashamed to share vulnerable or traditionally-considered-”weak” emotions) that I could literally go on forever. 

His obsession with girls and making comments about their bodies is like, def not ok, but in The Real World my guess is that it’s because the writers had trouble deciding what kind of person he was gonna be and tried to fit both in and tbh for me I just can’t buy it. I could buy some of it, like checking out Ann or something, but then in Hawaii when he’s talking about how the girls there are “massive” I was like ????? Ryuji would never go THAT far. In a headcanon-y space, I would say that Ryuji’s dad is obviously The Ultimate Piece of Shit and 1) didn’t give Ryuji a good idea of what a man is so 2) Ryuji no longer has a male presence in his life and thus nothing else to go off of, which means 3) in an effort to be Masculine and Become a Man during his coming-of-age age (lol), he’s just copying what he thinks is how he’s supposed to act. I also think that Ryuji’s mom is a sweet, kind lady who wouldn’t hesitate to bitch slap her son if she heard him talk about girls that way and she’s raised him to be respectful so that also contradicts his behavior. It’s not genuinely who he is–he’s so quick to tell guys to back off the girls at the beach even tho he literally just went to do the same thing–it’s just who he thinks he’s supposed to be. And we all know Ryuji struggles with self-esteem and not putting himself down, so like, he doesn’t have the ability to outright reject that notion (yet). He so often wants to be someone other than himself that he adopts this persona (haha didn’t mean to do that) thinking it’s just the way of the world. 

None of the above makes his behavior excusable AT ALL, like more than once I literally said “dude chill out” to my screen ok, but I think in game-verse it can be explained and outside of the game it can also be explained. I contend that he is still pure and good and right and the goddamn sunshine incarnate, but dude’s got flaws and some things he has to work out (and I fully believe Ann threatens and then casually DOES call his mom to tell on him one day [much to his protests and FOR REALs and ARE YOU KIDDING MEs and ANN I’M SO SORRY I PROMISE I WON’T SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN JUST DON’T TELL MY MOM] and Ryuji gets a Second Awakening when he gets home that night and never makes a lewd comment again)

((also he’s probably bi and doesn’t know how to face that yet so he’s overcompensating FIGHT ME ON THIS))

*EDIT* @defciggy pointed out the duality doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive which is something I normally try to be cognizant of bc ppl are gray areas but I got a lil carried away lol so I just want to retract a little bit and say the writing isn’t necessarily flawed/mistaken/poor but that the good in him is bigger than the bad

chrisinasia  asked:

I didn't read Dragonfly in Amber, as I was plenty distraught from watching season 2. Is the Annalise scene at Versailles in the book? It is so uttely hilarious in the show, that I will probably have to look for it in the book if so.

It is in the book, but it is slightly different in the book. It takes place at Louise’s house, not Versailles. They don’t interact with her in the book, only have a conversation about her which ends with an iconic Jamie-ism. Here’s my abridged version for you:

“Verra nice, Sassenach,“ Jamie said when I rejoined him, flushed and breathless, after the singing. He grinned down at me and patted my shoulder.

“How would you know?” I said, accepting a glass of wine-punch from a passing servant. “You can’t tell one song from another.”

“Well, ye were loud, anyway,” he said, unperturbed. “1 could hear every word.” I felt him stiffen slightly beside me, and turned to see what—or whom—he was looking at.

The woman who had just entered was tiny, scarcely as high as Jamie’s lowest rib, with hands and feet like a doll’s, and brows delicate as Chinese tracery, over eyes the deep black of sloes. She advanced with a step that mocked its own lightness, so she looked as though she were dancing just above the ground.

“There’s Annalise de Marillac,” I said, admiring her. “Doesn’t she look lovely?”

“Oh, aye.” Something in his voice made me glance sharply upward. A faint pink tinged the tips of his ears.

“And here I thought you spent your years in France fighting, not making romantic conquests,” I said tartly.

To my surprise, he laughed at this.

“What’s so funny?“ I asked, seeing him still grinning broadly after the lady’s gently oscillating lace skirts.

He snapped suddenly back to an awareness of my presence, and smiled down at me.

"Oh, nothing, Sassenach. Only what ye said about fighting. I fought my first duel—well, the only one, in fact—over Annalise de Marillac. When I was eighteen.”

His tone was mildly dreamy, watching the sleek, dark head bob away through the crowd, surrounded wherever it went by white clusters of wigs and powdered hair, with here and there a fashionably pink-tinged peruke for variety.

“A duel? With whom?” I asked, glancing around warily for any male attachments to the China doll who might feel inclined to follow up an old quarrel.

“Och, he isna here,” Jamie said, catching and correctly interpreting my glance. “He’s dead.”

“You killed him?” Agitated, I spoke rather louder than intended. As a few nearby heads turned curiously in our direction, Jamie took me by the elbow and steered me hastily toward the nearest French doors.

“Mind your voice, Sassenach,” he said, mildly enough. “No, I didna kill him. Wanted to,” he added ruefully, “but didn’t. He died two years ago.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,“ I urged as we passed out of hearing of the groups on the terrace. "What happened?”

“All right, then,” he said, resigned. “Well, ye will have observed that Annalise is rather pretty?”

“Oh, really? Well, perhaps, now that you mention it, I can see something of the kind,” I answered sweetly, provoking a sudden sharp look, followed by a lopsided smile.

“Aye. Well, I wasna the only young gallant in Paris to be of the same opinion, nor the only one to lose his head over her, either. Went about in a daze, tripping over my feet. Waited in the street, in hopes of seeing her come out of her house to the carriage. Forgot to eat, even; Jared said my coat hung on me like a scarecrow’s, and the state of my hair didna much help the resemblance.“ His hand went absently to his head, patting the immaculate queue that lay clubbed tight against his neck, bound with blue ribbon.

"Forgot to eat? Christ, you did have it bad,” I remarked.

He chuckled. “Oh, aye. And still worse when she began to flirt wi’ Charles Gauloise. Mind ye,” he added fairly, “she flirted with everyone—that was all right—but she chose him for her supper partner ower-often for my taste, and danced with him too much at the parties, and… well, the long and the short of it, Sassenach, is that I caught him kissing her in the moonlight on her father’s terrace one night, and challenged him.”

(Details of the duel, yada, yada…)

“So I sheathed my blade and smoothed back my hair, and stood there—half-expectin’ her to come and throw herself into my arms, I suppose.”

“Um,” I said, delicately. “I gather she didn’t?”

“Well, I didna ken anything about women then, did I?” he demanded. “No, she came and threw herself on him, of course.” He made a Scottish noise deep in his throat, one of self-derision and humorous disgust. “Married him a month later, I heard.”

“Aye, well.” He shrugged suddenly, with a rueful smile. “So my heart was broken. Went home to Scotland and moped about for weeks, until my father lost patience wi’ me.” He laughed. “I even thought of turning monk over it. Said to my father over supper one night as I thought perhaps in the spring I’d go across to the Abbey and become a novice.”

I laughed at the thought. “Well, you’d have no difficulty with the vow of poverty; chastity and obedience might come a bit harder. What did your father say?”

He grinned, teeth white in a dark face. “He was eating brose. He laid down the spoon and looked at me for a moment. Then he sighed and shook his head, and said, ‘It’s been a long day, Jamie.’ Then he picked up the spoon again and went back to his supper, and I never said another word about it.”

“Aye, a verra pretty lass, Annalise de Marillac. Graceful as the wind, and so small that ye wanted to tuck her inside your shirt and carry her like a kitten.”

I was silent, listening to the faint music from the open doors above, as I contemplated the gleaming satin slipper that encased my size-nine foot.

After a moment, Jamie became aware of my silence.

“What is it, Sassenach?” he asked, laying a hand on my arm.

“Oh, nothing,” I said with a sigh. “Only thinking that I rather doubt anyone will ever describe me as ‘graceful as the wind’.”

“Ah.” His head was half-turned, the long, straight nose and firm chin lighted from behind by the glow of the nearest lantern. I could see the half-smile on his lips as he turned back toward me.

“Well, I’ll tell ye, Sassenach, 'graceful’ is possibly not the first word that springs to mind at thought of you.” He slipped an arm behind me, one hand large and warm around my silk-clad shoulder.

😍"But I talk to you as I talk to my own soul,“ he said, turning me to face him. He reached up and cupped my cheek, fingers light on my temple.

"And, Sassenach,” he whispered, “your face is my heart.” 😍

“So,” I observed, as we made our way slowly up the wide steps to the ballroom, “you’ve learnt a bit more about women now, I see.”

He laughed, low and deep, tightening his grasp on my waist.

“The most important thing I’ve learned about women, Sassenach, is which one to choose.” He stepped away, bowing to me, and gesturing through the open doors to the brilliant scene inside. “May I have this dance, milady?”

-Dragonfly In Amber

Bits x Nursey:

- What if to stop Dex and Nursey fighting on the team bus, Bitty switched places with Dex one day? Dex gets to sit next to Jack Zimmermann. And Bitty…

-…opens his laptop to look at his vlog comments and Nursey takes an interest…

-…by the time they get to their next hotel, Bitty and Nursey have watched all of Bitty’s vlogs together including (ESPECIALLY) the ones Bitty is embarassed of, the first ones, with the tripod still in the shot, or no tripod at all

-They become good friends. Nursey reads Bitty his poems while leaning against the counter as Bitty kneads. It’s joy.

-Nursey takes Bitty to New York one summer. He sees where the Stonewall riots happened. He learns about black trans women being the original resistance. Then he goes to pride. Nursey has rainbow highlighter on his cheeks. The happiness and understanding of pain and what there is left to do for the marginalized people of the movement both make his heart swell.

-When Bitty opens his bakery, it’s not his, it’s theirs. One of Nursey’s poems is printed in a beautiful typeface under photographs of pastries in the catering menu. Yes, they do wedding cakes too, with advance notice.

-Nursey publishes his first poetry book, ‘Prologues/Kid’. He tries to play it chill, like it’s no big deal. For one second. Then he faints into Eric Richard Nurse’s waiting arms.

The Wedding Night

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11539902

Brienne did not know whose idea it was that the Free Folk need to solidify their place in the North through marriage to a northern house, but if she had to guess, she would say Littlefinger. Of course none of the northern houses would agree to it. The discussion became more heated with every passing moment until someone suggested Jon should give his sister to the wildlings if he liked them all that much. Brienne couldn’t believe that was actually happening, but all the northern lords were now demanding it. Brienne stood next to a visibly panicked Sansa, with her hand firm on the hilt of her sword. Jon was shouting back at the lords, but the three of them were clearly outnumbered. It was then when she saw him. Tormund was the only one still sitting, staring at her through all that chaos. And suddenly she knew what she had to do. She vowed to protect Sansa and if that was the only way to do so…

***

They sneaked out in the middle of the feast, but no one seemed to notice. Brienne became suspicious as her husband didn’t lead her to their new chamber, but into the courtyard. He said it was a surprise and now they are here, in a small cave, not much bigger that Brienne’s bedroom. A fire was burning in one of the corners, smoke escaping through a slit in the wall. Firewood was piled next to it along with some saddle bags. But the bigger part of the cave was occupied by a large pile of furs and blankets. Their wedding bed.

Tormund had already began to remove his furs. Brienne took a shaky breath. It’s finally happening. With stiff fingers she began to unlace her clothes. Brienne watched her husband out of the corner of her eyes. Maybe she could knock him out? But she couldn’t do it every night, could she? So she continued to undress herself, trying not to think about what was going to happen next.

“Let me,” Tormund stood before her with his chest bare, still wearing trousers. Brienne let her hand drop from the collar of her tunic. He stepped closer and unlaced the collar, revealing Brienne’s pale neck. Next moment Tormund leaned in and Brienne squeezed her eyes shut. First she felt a soft kiss on the collarbone, then at the crook of her neck, the next one behind the ear. Tormund’s hands were on her waist, then traveled up her back as he tugged her closer to him. Brienne kept her eyes shut and her fists clenched, every muscle in her body tense. Suddenly Tormund stepped away from her. Brienne wondered what would happen next, but nothing happened. She finally opened her eyes only to meet with Tormund’s intense stare.

“I’m not used to raping my woman.” Brienne stared at him in utter surprise. As she tried to speak her voice was merely a whisper.

“But you don’t…”

“Feels damn like I do.”

“We are… married… we are supposed to…” she couldn’t believe she needed to explain it to him. “You don’t want it,“ Tormund stated. “But…” Brienne did not understand what was happening. Why did it matter what she wanted? It was her duty now, their duty.

“Get some sleep,” Tormund turned away from her with a sigh. Brienne just stood there, completely shocked, watching him burying himself into the furs of their bed with his back to her. Finally she took off her boots and laid down. Her thoughts were racing. What did just happen? Why did Tormund reject her? Up until now he always made sure to show her that he wanted her. Was it all a lie? Was he just playing with her like all the other men?

Brienne’s body begun to shake. She hadn’t cried in years, especially not for a man. But now she couldn’t stop herself.

Suddenly Brienne felt Tormund’s arms pulling her close to him, encircling her in a strong embrace. She didn’t resist, on the contrary she wrapped her arms around his solid torso, burying her face into his beard. Her body was shaking violently against his, like a tide against a rock.

Brienne did not know how much time they spent like that, with Tormund stroking her hair gently, cooing to her like she was a child. “Shhhh, shhhh…” Finally her tears dried and her body relaxed. Tormund lifted her chin with his fingers to look into her eyes. “You alright now?” Brienne nodded and tried to hide her face again. She knew how terrible it looked like, all read and swollen from crying. But Tormund seemed to have misunderstood her gesture, he begun to move away from her. “Get some sleep.” But Brienne was not ready to leave his arms just yet. Somehow she knew if she let this moment pass, she would never have the courage again. And so she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his, desperately hoping that Tormund would understand.

 ***

Brienne had no idea how to kiss. Her awkward attempts to mimic what Tormund was doing made him smile. She will learn. If Tormund knew anything about women, and he knew quite a lot about them, then Brienne would be as fierce a lover, as she was a fighter. But for now he had to be patient. Brienne allowed him to remove her tunic and he could finally feel her skin on his skin. The sensation made Tormund forget himself for a moment. With a grunt he rolled Brienne over, pinning her underneath him and forcing one knee between hers. She did not protest, all the previous tension was gone from her body, she was relaxed and soft under his touch. Tormund let go of Brienne’s lips to leave a trail of small soft kisses down her neck until he reached her small firm breasts. The nipples were hard already. He took one of them in his mouth while gently massaging the other breast with his hand. Brienne gasped in surprise, but Tormund could feel her back arching slightly, leaning her closer into his touch. Maybe she would learn even faster than he expected.

Tormund claimed Brienne’s lips once again, deepening the kiss this time. His hand traveled over Brienne’s belly, reaching the laces of her pants. He was ready to stop any moment should Brienne object, but she didn’t. He quickly loosened the laces and reached inside. A shiver run through Brienne’s body as his fingers touched her most sacred spot. Brienne tried to pull away but now he wouldn’t let her. His fingers moved between her folds, teasing the entrance while his mouth wouldn’t let go of hers. Brienne was squirming underneath him until she finally broke the kiss, gasping for breath. This was his call.

Tormund quickly removed their pants and climbed between Brienne’s legs. His cock was already throbbing almost painfully with anticipation, but he ignored it, continuing to tease Brienne with his hand. This time he actually slid his fingers into her, forcing a loud moan from Brienne’s lips. And he moaned too. Gods, she felt like heaven inside, Tormund could barely hold himself back. Brienne was panting, hands tearing at the furs she laid upon.

“Look at me,” Tormund begged in a raspy whisper. Brienne opened her eyes and Tormund knew it was time. He begun to slowly ease himself inside of her. “Look at me,” he begged again. And then, with one final push, he broke her seal.

 ***

Brienne wasn’t sure if she was still asleep and dreaming, or if it was happening for real. Tormund’s hands were all over her body, his hot breath on the back of her neck sending shivers down her spine. His touch was different this time, not as precautious as before, fingers kneading her flesh, teeth scraping her skin. Or maybe it felt so intense because she was still half asleep? She moaned, leaning into Tormund’s touch. One of his hands slid between her thighs and Brienne moaned again. She could feel how wet she already was. Without her mind interfering, Brienne’s body knew what to do.

“You learn fast,” Tormund groaned in her ear, pressing his hips to her, his fingers never ceasing their teasing. The feeling of his hardness between her buttocks made Brienne shudder with anticipation. All her fears were gone, she only wanted to feel him moving inside her again. As if Tormund could read her mind, or maybe her body, he begun to position himself, sliding down her back with his cock still pressed to her. He paused, as he reached her entrance “It shouldn’t hurt anymore.” Brienne just bit her lip and tried to press herself even more onto his cock. She didn’t care if it would hurt, she needed him inside her right now. Tormund chuckled and pushed his hips forward. He moved slowly, letting her feel the entire length of him. A groan escaped Brienne’s lips, although she couldn’t say what caused it, the excitement of finally having Tormund inside her, or frustration about his agonizingly slow pace. Maybe both. Tormund’s fingers were still teasing her, moving between her folds in sync with his cock.

Brienne gasped as he suddenly took his hand away and gasped again, as she realized what he was about to do. Tormund took her hand and guided it where his had just been. Brienne tried to pull away, she never touched herself there, except during washing, but Tormund wouldn’t let go of her hand. “You have to help me,” he breathed in her ear. “It’s not fair for me to do all the work.” Brienne shuddered as her fingers finally touched her wet flesh and to her utter surprise she immediately begun to move, mimicking Tormund’s touches. She had to press her face into the pillow to hide her shame, but Tormund whispered again “Yeeesss! Just like that, keep going.” He was now supporting himself with both arms and finally abandoned the slow and careful movements. His thrusts became fast and hard, forcing Brienne to cry out every time he dived completely into her. Her own fingers moved in sync with his cock, pressing harder as he went faster. Brienne could feel a fiery ball forming inside of her, growing bigger with each thrust… until it exploded.

Cousins

When I was really young, around 9 or 10, I lost my virginity to my two male cousins who wanted to experiment and find out what sex was. It kinda became a pretty frequent thing that happened for about 2 or 3 years before they moved away. I’m 21 now and just recently got to see one of them again and we ended up bring up having sex as kids. We talked for probably an hour before I asked if he wanted to try it again for old time sake only to be turned down because he’s in a relationship. But it didn’t take a lot of persuasion cause before I realized it I was on my knees sucking him off and getting him to plow me like he never did before. He definitely learned a thing or two about pleasuring women through the years.

Good Enough (b7)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight;part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; part fourteen; part fifteen; part sixteen; part seventeen; part eighteen; part nineteen; part twenty; part twenty one; part twenty two; part twenty three; part twenty four; epilogue.

bonus scenes: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

“Daddy, party!” Jae whined on the floor, pushing his toy car across the coffee table and watching it fall to the floor.

Sehun sighed loudly, reading through a file on the children’s hospital budget that he was stressing over. “This is the first thing you should learn about women Jae,” he started to tell his son, fiddling with the black bowtie around his neck. “They take forever to get ready and will probably always be late to something.”

Keep reading

The Scarf - Newt x Reader (Part 1)

Alrighty. I know I’m supposed to be writing those Christmas fics, but I just cannot. I don’t have any idea why. And then this popped into my head, and I had to write it down immediately. I know you’re probably thinking “wow dude, what’s with all the newt x engaged/married!reader fics? u ok?” and my answer is: I have no idea. Maybe I have commitment issues. Maybe it’s a weird coincidence. Who knows.

Anyway, I’ve got part 2 all planned out!! This one is sad as hell but the next one will be better.

Warnings: Adult themes and references to intercourse, but nothing explicit. Death and serious illness. Harassment (unwanted persistent advances). Cheating. Yeah, this one’s dark and super angsty, sorry ‘yall.

———————————

You stirred, blinking your eyes open, and when you realized where you were your heart caught in your throat sharply. You wanted to close your eyes, you so desperately wanted to just go back to sleep and forget what the events of the night before entailed. You squeezed your eyes shut, your lip trembling. You bit it to try and get the shaking to stop, but you couldn’t seem to hold back the hot tears that were bubbling up and spilling down your cheeks. You shook your head firmly, sniffling a little and wiping your face hastily, scrubbing away all evidence of your pain. you had to disappear. You had to disappear immediately, and there was nothing you could do to make it hurt any less. You had to get the hell out of there before newt woke up, because you couldn’t look into his sleepy hazel eyes or feel his soft lips on your cheek or lay in his warm, comforting embrace one last time, no matter how desperately you yearned to. One last time had been last night. Another time, and you weren’t sure you would be able to leave.

You slipped out of his strong arms, careful not to wake him but relishing in the brush of his skin against yours as you gently detached his grasp around your waist. You sat up slowly the cot, hanging your legs over the side and staring at the ground. God, you felt so guilty and so wrong. you had done a terrible thing, but there was no going back. You had tried to talk to Newt. You really had. But he had peered up at you, looking so hopeful, his eyes partially hidden by his beautiful cinnamon hair, and you had unraveled completely and slipped into the blissful state where you allowed yourself to imagine that the ring on your finger was his. You were surprised that he hadn’t noticed the ring over the course of all that had happened. It was an awfully prominent and sparkly thing, that despicable man had made absolutely sure of that. The ring wasn’t from Newt, much to your dismay. Instead, It had been from someone you never in a million years would have considered you might end up marrying. It still didn’t feel real.

Your fiance–the word made you shudder when you associated it with him–had slipped it smugly on after you had made the deal with him. It was like he was claiming you as his property, and the ring was to ensure that nobody else forgot who you belonged to. You shuddered again, your chest feeling suddenly cold. You didn’t want to belong to somebody. Newt had never tried to own you, he had just wanted to be with you, and you felt as though a knife was twisting in your abdomen. You had to get out of his case, and you had to forget about him and put your feelings behind you. This wasn’t about you or him. It was more important than how you felt about each other. This was more important than “true love”, or at the very least the genuine connection you had. It was about life and death, and you had to go through with it. There was no time for dwelling on “what ifs” or “what could have been”, and it was far too late to turn back.

You felt awful. It was a sort of feeling that you couldn’t seem to articulate properly, that weighed down on your every movement and pooled in your gut like the harsh burn of alcohol. You rose to your feet, and heard Newt shift behind you. Against your better judgement, you turned around and gazed at him for a moment. The two of you had shared a blanket, but it was just covering his legs. His torso was bare. He lay on his side, his arms stretched out to where you had been sleeping in them only moments before. His eyelashes fluttered softly, his lips parted slightly in a thoughtful, sleepy manner. The soft light that seemed ever-present in the case illuminated his skin lightly, the constellation of his freckles a sharp contrast against his pale skin. His chest rose and fell in a calming and familiar way, and his hair was even more tousled than usual. He was crisscrossed with scars, and your gaze lingered on them for a moment. You knew the story of almost each individual mark. He had told you over and over, and you had memorized the canvas that was his torso, spending hours tracing your fingers over the rough patches of skin and marveling at his bravery. You closed your eyes and took a deep, slow breath. Now was not the time for reminiscing. Now was the time for getting out of there as fast as you could, no matter how beautiful he looked in his early morning slumber; no matter how much it would break his heart to wake up and find that you had disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

You had to remind yourself again that this wasn’t about his feelings, or yours.

You wrapped your arms around your shoulders, rubbing to calm yourself, and then you pulled Newt’s white button up shirt off and laid it beside him on the cot, searching for the pile of your own clothes. You found it and pulled each article on swiftly. All you had been wearing were your casual clothes for around the house, an old sweater and some slacks. You put on your slippers, snatching your wand and climbing out of the case, careful to close it behind you. You smiled to yourself when you got out, remembering that you were actually in your little flat. Why hadn’t you slept in your bed rather than the cot he kept in his case? You supposed it hadn’t occurred to you at the time, and you shut the case as quietly as you could.

You slipped into the bathroom to wash your face. You had to disappear from your apartment for a while, and hopefully he would be gone when you got back, your mind racing as you mentally mapped out a note or something you could leave him. He had only come over to help you pack. He came over often, and when you had mentioned that you were moving in a letter you had written, he had surprised you with a visit. Despite how mobile he was, he would write to you whenever he could, and if there was a return address you would reply as quickly and as enthusiastically as possible. You kept a box of his letters under your bed, and you reread them when you were feeling down. 

Your love story was a peculiar one. You had been only seventeen when you had met, and it felt like an eternity ago. When you thought about life before him, it seemed wrong, unusual, unfamiliar, and you sometimes wondered what your life would have been like had you never met him at all. While you were staying in your summer home in Europe, you had run into him completely by coincidence and you had hit it off immediately. Was it really, though? you mused to yourself sometimes, entertaining the idea that it was meant to be, or that if it hadn’t happened then it would have happened eventually. You weren’t really a firm believer in soulmates, but if you had one, it would most certainly be Newt. The two of you had never really needed to say out loud what your relationship was, but you were about as in love as two people could be.

You were the daughter of a wealthy single father, and he took you every year to the house in Europe. At first, especially immediately after the death of your mother, he had hovered over you like a hawk. He wasn’t entirely sure how to raise two daughters on his own. The way things had always been was that caring for the children was women’s work, and he was simply supposed to support the household financially. When he lost his wife, he had no idea what to do. You didn’t fault him for that, as it was just a result of how he had been raised, but you thought all the notions about “women’s work” and “men’s work” were complete hogwash. He had done his best to stick to the things he had learned about the way men and women were supposed to behave, and he had tried very hard at first to try to get you and your sister to behave like “young ladies”. It had taken some learning, but he had eventually realized that he was squashing who you really were, so he moved back to give you room to grow. You loved your father dearly, and you were very proud of all the growing he had done simply by abandoning all notions of what he was supposed to do in favor of the well-being of his children.

Your older sister preferred to stay home and read, but every chance you got, you’d slip off into the woods to adventure. You were seventeen when you had met Newt for the first time, and it had been the most interesting event of the entire summer. Some relatives were over, including your insufferable cousin-in-law Duncan. His mother had married your uncle two years before, and he was acutely aware of the fact that you and he were not related by blood. You went to Ilvermorny together, and he was your neighbor back in America. He never passed up an opportunity to try and chat you up, and you had very politely excused yourself from the party to use the ladies’ room, only to climb out the window and stalk off. Nobody really took notice of your absence, and you were fine with that.

Newt was only a year older than you, and you had quite literally ran right into him during an expedition into the thick forests nearby your father’s summer home. You had almost knocked him clean over, as you hadn’t been watching where you were going. Much to your surprise, he had grabbed your hand wordlessly and dragged you off with him, sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him. As the two of you had approached a more heavily wooded area, he had darted down a little slope and slipped underneath an overhang beside a riverbank, snapping open the tan case he had been carrying.

“Get in,” he had told you breathlessly, and you had looked at him with wide eyes. He had just swept you up out of nowhere, dragged you down the bank beside a river, and now he was trying to coax you into his sketchy case. You weren’t even sure what had prompted you to run with him in the first place, but something in his eyes and his tone had convinced you.

“Why? What the hell is going on? Who even are you?” you had spluttered, and in that moment it was as though he’d seen you properly for the first time. He had looked you straight in the eye and offered you his hand, gesturing for you to get into the case.

“We don’t have time for this. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to trust me,” he had said firmly, his hazel eyes flashing and his face an expression of genuine seriousness. And for some reason, you did. Completely. You took his hand to steady yourself and stepped down into the case, descending the ladder without questioning him again.

He followed immediately and pulled the case closed behind him, and when he had turned to you he had blinked at you for a moment, just staring.

Your dress was muddied and the delicate white shawl you had been wearing had caught on some brambles and gotten left behind. The torn sleeve of your dress hung off one shoulder, exposing your skin, and his eyes seemed to longer there curiously for a brief moment. Your hair had once been pinned up carefully in a beautiful style, but now the pins were either dangling loosely or lost entirely. Your face was smudged with dirt and your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. your tights were torn and your shoes had clearly not been designed for running or forest terrain. He noted that this could not have all been from the quick run he had dragged you on, and it made him smile a little to think of you traipsing through the forest in your fancy dress, paying no mind to the twigs and sticks that tore at your legs, or the insects in your hair. He thought to himself that you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and the fact that this idea had so suddenly appeared in his head surprised him thoroughly. His face went red and he dropped his gaze.

You took no notice to the unusual boy, looking around with wide eyes. The case was much, much bigger on the inside, and you stepped out of the little shack you had fallen in to look around a little further.

It was mostly empty, to your surprise, and you blinked at what little it held. The only things you noticed were a little heap of earth covered in soft green grass and a small structure with what appeared to be bamboo growing out of it. But what caught your eye the most was what slept on top of the heap of earth. It was what appeared to be a huge ferret. It was laying on its back, its head thrown back and its jaws parted slightly. You peered at it, amazed, then remembered the strange boy who had shoved you down into this case in the first place and whirled around to face him. “Am I asleep?” you questioned, wrinkling your brow. “That would explain a whole lot. this is just bizarre enough to be a dream, and if it is a dream I won’t have to worry about the absolute mess I made of my clothes,”

He smiled slightly. “I’m afraid it’s real,” he replied.

“That’s a Jarvey, isn’t it? these things in your case are magical beasts,” you said, jabbing your finger at the massive sleeping ferret. 

He looked surprised. “How do you-”

“Dad used to have one for the garden. It took care of the gnomes. My sister tried to play with it and it got all aggressive so he had to get rid of it,” you said dismissively.

“So you’re a witch? That saves me some explaining,” he said, walking past you to the little stand with the trees.

“You still have a hell of a lot of explaining to do,” you retorted sharply, following him.

“I was looking for Bowtruckles and they happen to be very common around here,” he said simply, as though that was all the explaining he had to do.

You squinted at him disbelievingly. “Why in the world did you think we had to run from Bowtruckles? From what I learned at Ilvermorny, they don’t like to leave their trees,” you crossed your arms. “Something tells me you don’t know what you’re doing, and that something is also telling me to get out of this crazy person’s case,” you half-teased, trying to read his expression. He smiled faintly as though amused by your implication that he didn’t know what he was doing.

“I upset a wasp nest in the process, and they are more than willing to leave their trees,” he responded. “I didn’t want to get stung, and I was planning to apparate before I ran into you and decided that it would be rude to leave you behind to deal with the consequences of my actions,”

“How thoughtful of you,” you replied dryly, but you smiled a little. You had taken an unexplainable liking to him. “So you’re a fan of magical beasts? How many do you have in this suitcase of yours?” you inquired, leaning on the little stand with the bamboo. He was carefully coaxing a Bowtruckle out of his sleeve and onto the bamboo, where you noticed two others peering out at you.

“Two, well, three Bowtruckles now,” he said, nodding to the little stick-like creature. “His tree was dying and I couldn’t just leave him there. He was the only one there, and the tree was basically rotted completely. There was nothing left for him to protect. It took me a few hours but I got him to come with me,” he said fondly, still trying to gently brush him from his hand. “And then there’s the Jarvey, of course. I plan to study many, many more creatures, but this is all I’ve managed to find so far,” he said.

“You’re British and all, I can tell by the accent,” you said, and he nodded, still not taking his eyes off the little creature, who was now shyly approaching the other Bowtruckles.

“And you’re American,” he said, his lips twitching with amusement. “I can tell because you’re incredibly nosy,” he teased, and you could tell that he didn’t really mean it in a negative way.

You opted not to reply to his remark. “So you’re at Hogwarts, right? Or you were, before summer break. Do they have a good class on magical creatures there? The one at Ilvermorny was only a semester and it was terribly vague. It mostly taught us how they could be avoided or disposed of,” you said bluntly.

He looked at you again, his eyes gleaming. “Our curriculum was…sparse…as well. I hope to change that,”

You still remembered the determination you saw in his expression, and it still excited you. His passion, his drive, it was incredible. You admired him for it, and once he helped you mend your clothes and determined that the threat of wasp attack had passed, he offered to walk you home.

You had been writing to each other ever since.

That had been seven years prior, and now was the day it had to end. You could never see him again, for both of your sakes. You had to marry Duncan and move on, and you wished with every fiber of your being that there was another way. Much to your despair, you had tried so hard to find one and it was clear that this was the only option you had.

You shrugged your casual clothes off and pulled on a black skirt that fell to your shins and a gray sweater, moving immediately to search for your hairbrush. You were moving your things to Duncan’s home today, and you had to look presentable.

Duncan had been a neighbor when you were younger, and he had never been pleasant. He was a spoiled, loud bully who had developed a crush on you as children and never let it go. That crush had developed into something of a mission as the two of you got older. He was the most smug, self-involved man you had ever laid eyes on, and he was intrigued because you had become something that he wanted, but couldn’t have. You were a conquest of sorts, and he was completely determined to make you his. He had won at last, but you were not happy about it.

You stood in front of the smudged bathroom mirror, and felt your heart settle in your throat. Much to your dismay, the collar of your sweater hung just above your collarbones. It left your neck exposed, and your coat had a collar, but you would have to remove the coat upon entering Duncan’s house. You tilted your head to the side to further examine the pale marks Newt had left behind. There were too many for you to dismiss them as bug bites, and they were too prominent for you to just hope Duncan wouldn’t notice them. He couldn’t. He simply couldn’t see them, that would ruin everything. You traced your fingers over the purple marks, all four of them, that trailed from your pulse to your collarbone. There wasn’t a spell that could hide these immediately. It would take a poulitice, and it would take at least four hours to properly make them disappear. You didn’t have that kind of time.

“Sorry about that,” came a soft voice from the doorway. Startled, you whipped around, face to face with an apologetically smiling Newt. He had his hand on the doorframe, and he was completely dressed in all his usual layers. The case sat at his feet.

Your chest twisted painfully. “It’s alright,” you murmured, refusing to look him straight in his beautiful hazel eyes. “I thought…I thought you were asleep,” you said lamely.

He leaned on the door frame, his eyes on the floor. The tension was palpable. 

At last, you both went to speak at the same time.

“I-”

“I’m-”

You smiled awkwardly, shifting and waving your hand to instruct him to speak first.

“I’m sorry I slept with you even though I knew you were engaged to Duncan,” he said, his head bobbing up to study your face. Your heart dropped.

“You…you knew? How did you…?”

“Your sister wrote to me and begged me to visit and talk you out of this,” he said with a small sad smile.

“You have to understand,” you said, tears blurring your vision once more. “Nobody can talk me out of this. I’ve made up my mind, and this is something I have to do. I couldn’t-” you paused as your voice cracked to wipe a tear frantically away before it could roll down your cheek. You sniffed, then straightened your back and continued. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I could have done something but I chose not to,” your voice wavered, but it was reasonably loud and firm.

He nodded slightly, his eyes seeming to look anywhere but yours.

“My father has gone completely bankrupt and we have nothing left to pay for my sister’s treatment. She’s so sick, Newt,” you whimpered the last few words, closing your eyes and putting your hand briefly to your face. “and there’s no other way. I’ve tried so many things, but this is the only way we can get her to a doctor who can cure her. I can’t stand to the side and watch her die. It’s not an option. Duncan is very wealthy, and he is more than happy to pay if it means that I’ll marry him,”

Newt looked at you finally, his eyes glassy. He managed a quick, forced smile, trying to reassure you. “I know,” he said softly.

You fixed your gaze on the ground, out of things to say, and you felt his warm, calloused fingers brushing over the marks he had left. “I can get rid of these. I’m sorry,” he murmured, his forehead brushing against yours as he ducked to look at you, his hand still resting on your neck.

You nodded silently, and he slipped a little bottle out of his pocket. “I threw this together before I came up,” he said softly, tipping the contents onto his fingers and brushing it over the sensitive skin of your neck with care. You looked up at him gratefully when he was done. They wouldn’t be gone soon enough, but perhaps they would be faded enough that Duncan wouldn’t notice. You couldn’t possibly ask Newt for anything more than he had already given you, you thought to yourself.

But he was already a step ahead of you. He pulled off his signature Hufflepuff scarf, wrapping it around your neck with such tenderness that all you wanted was to collapse into his warm embrace and forget about your sister. Forget about the money and the wedding. You wanted to throw it all to the wind and grip him tight and never let him go, but the yearning was fleeting. You couldn’t. The warm scarf that smelled just like he did would have to be enough. You smiled at him sadly, hoping that he saw the gratitude that shone in your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything for almost a full moment, his hands dropping to linger on your forearms and your eyes locked into his.

“You don’t have to write to me anymore if you don’t want to,” you murmured to him, closing your eyes. “If it hurts too much,”

He didn’t reply. A soft, chaste kiss was pressed firmly to your forehead, and when you opened your eyes he was gone.

You stood in your bathroom and cried, burying your face into the soft scarf.

He deserved so much better than what you had ended up giving him, but despite all that, there you stood, alone, wrapped carefully in his favorite scarf.

Operation Lovebirds Chapter 1

For @insanitysbloomings‘ (Aka @insanitysscribblings) birthday, I wrote a DJWifi centric fake dating fic. It’s going to be about five chapters long, so here is the first chapter. Hopefully I’ll get the rest out over the next couple weeks. Enjoy!

Summary: Fed up with her friends refusing to confess their feeling for each other, Alya enlist the help of Nino to bring them together. The plan? Fake a relationship. What could possibly go wrong? (hint: everything)    

[AO3]

Chapter 1: The Plan

Alya sat with her arm crossed over her chest glaring at her shocked friend as coffee dribbled down his chin. She expected some sort of reaction to her statement, just not one so messy. She’d called Nino to a coffee shop early this Sunday morning to discuss a potential plan to bring their best friends together. Her plan was simple, but very detailed. The last element she needed was a willing participant.  

“You’re insane,” Nino said, wiping chin clean.

“Listen, it’s been three years and they’re still pining over each other. All they need is a little push in the right direction.”

Keep reading

The Patriarchy and Wicca

“According to his own claims, in September 1939, a British occultist named Gerald Gardner was initiated into the coven, and subsequently used its beliefs and practices as a basis from which he formed the tradition of Gardnerian Wicca.”

It bothers me that the two people credited most for modern Wicca are two white males. The coven that supposedly took Gardener in, which he outed, was populated by women. I want to learn about their religion, not what this man spun it to be, including his own homophobic beliefs.

The map legend

I think many people were put off by the voice-over scene at the end, because it seemed to put Regina firmly in the friendship category and Hook in the love category. Except, it didn’t. Following the very strict rules of dumb positivity, I’m going to turn what probably was one of the most hated scenes of this episode for many in a map key to this season. Hope you’re ready for the ride, because if we dive any deeper into the rabbit hole, we’ll hit the center of the earth.

So let’s look at the words of imaginary-Rumple-also-known-as-Dark-and-ridiculously-hot-admit-it-Emma’s very dark thought process. 

 “As long as the darkness has existed, one thing has always held us back.”

“The pull of the family who we’re so desperate to protect.”

“The friendships that make it impossible to forget who we used to be.”

“The magic that threatens to undo our most evil deeds.”

“And, worst of all, the love that refuses to give up on us.”

So let’s look at those scenes again. Remember that we’re in Emma’s mind and that this is part of a very complex scheme set-up by the writers to mislead us. So there has to be truth in it, but it’s full of misdirects.


“The pull of the family who we’re so desperate to protect.”

Snow, Charming and Neal. Her parents and brother. You can pretty much take this one at face value. It’s meant to set the tone of the series. The words and the images match, we see her loving family that we can imagine she wants to protect.

On a side note, why isn’t it simply the love for her family that keeps her from completely giving in to the darkness? Why is it specifically the need to protect them? In other words, why do they need to be protected from her fully embracing the darkness in itself? If Emma embraces the darkness, she will show the world who she is, utterly and completely. You could interpret it as her wanting to protect her family from seeing her true colors, because she thinks it will hurt them to know her. However, as I said, this scene needs to be taken at face value, so we are tricked into doing the same thing with the other scenes.


“The friendships that make it impossible to forget who we used to be.”

They show us an image of Henry and Violet, who’ve been clearly framed as a romantic couple in the making. Now, I bet our minds did a couple of things there. We included Henry in the family part of the previous sentence, but when we heard the word ‘friendship’, we expected to see an image of Regina. Instead we got Henry and Violet. Then I bet our minds did another little correction. I bet we were first confused that those two were framed as friendship. So we did a double take and then we explained to ourselves that it was of course not love yet and all budding love starts with a friendship.

Isn’t that exactly the way we see Emma and Regina’s relationship? Didn’t they just offer us a key to interpreting their friendship as a romantic one in the making. Especially, because everyone expected to see Regina when the word friendship was mentioned and they showed us budding love.


“The magic that threatens to undo our most evil deeds.”

Now here things get really interesting. We were expecting to see Regina when friendship was mentioned, so when she’s finally shown, we still file her away under that category. Except, that wasn’t her category. Regina is in her own category. Regina is the magic. And as other people have pointed out, true love is magic. Regina is true love.

The true love that threatens to undo our most evil deeds. Isn’t that similar to what Emma has done for Regina, just by believing in her? Henry’s love and Emma’s believe and ultimately her love may not have undone the Queen’s most evil deeds, but it has helped Regina to come back from it. I want to stress the word similar, because this is, about Regina threatening to undo Emma’s most evil deeds. Regina is determined to stop Emma’s darkness, to not let her succumb to it. She’s trying to set things right by taking on her role as the Savior. What if it means even more. What if we take it literally? What if whatever Regina does as the Savior during this curse has the potential to turn back time for Emma and literally undo her most evil deeds? What if the curse is some form of deal, some sort of contract with a clause. Emma goes Dark, but if Regina comes through, they will be brought back to that point in time and they can make a different choice and Emma won’t go dark.

This scenario gives the writers room to have Emma kill people we never thought she would kill. They can really make Emma the most chilling villain we have ever seen, have her commit the most heinous acts. We can really explore Emma’s psychology. Yet, they can turn it all back if Regina pulls through, because that would be the premise. Regina would be a lot like Emma during season one, with absolutely everybody’s future depending on her choices.

Now, it may seem like an easy out for Emma, but it isn’t. Even if her evil deeds are undone, she committed all of them with the knowledge they may very well be final. She will have to deal with the guilt regardless. There are no guarantees Regina will actually pull through.

Emma needs someone with whom she can safely let it all out, Emma needs to be given room to be angry, to rage. To show her absolute worst self, the Dark Swan, to someone, and have that person still not give up on her, still love her. Still see all that see is. That would heal Emma in the same way Emma’s belief in Regina saved her.


“And, worst of all, the love that refuses to give up on us.”

This scene, again, was incredibly misleading, but first let’s look at the structuring before we get into it. Scene one (family) was linked with scene two (friendship) because Henry is also an essential part of Emma’s family. If we follow the same logic, we have to assume scene three (magic) is similarly linked to scene four (love), but because there is not link between scene two and scene three, we can assume that is the structure’s mirroring surface. So the scene four theme (love) applies to what is in scene three (Regina), in the same way the scene one theme (family) applied to what was in scene two (Henry).

Now, don’t worry if that didn’t make much sense to you, because what follows is far more interesting. Let’s look at the words we hear and the scene we are presented with. Love that refuses to give up on us. Except. Hook in this scene is exactly that. It’s the image of someone who has given up. He is not working tirelessly in a library, reading about Dark One mythology, trying to see if there is something he’s missed during those 300 years when it was about hate. He’s getting drunk at a bar. He looks like he has given up in that moment. Obviously he hasn’t yet, but this is a deliberate choice to tell you that he will.

Now, it becomes entirely dodgy and I’ve contemplated not writing this bit, but I thought I should anyway. I apologize to Rumbellers, this is why it is the anti-tag, so this is the bit you shouldn’t read. It’s not what I want to happen, just something I couldn’t ignore. I have been working on a Hook meta and while it isn’t finished, one of my conclusions was that Hook started his journey of redemption on the wrong side of Henry’s family tree. Regina’s history is tied in with the history of the Charmings, but Hook’s history is entirely tied in with that of Rumple’s family. So my guess, even before the start of this season was that they’d break up Emma and Hook and Hook would be transferred to Rumple’s storyline. That he and Rumplestiltskin would play a part in each other’s redemption, at least if a redemption is in store for one or both of them. I thought Hook and Belle working together last season and having meaningful conversation in the library about love and Rumple foreshadowed that. Their conversation was more meaningful and more of a two-way conversation than Emma and Hook ever had, in fact.

Since then, there has been an interview in which Adam & Eddy confirm we’ll get more backstory for Hook during the second part of the season, which does sound like a possible redemption arc for him. They like to dive into people’s pasts to show us why they do what they do. I also thought a big part of Hook’s redemption has to be about learning how to treat women. He simply doesn’t know, because he grew up without a mother on a ship, surrounded only with men. Men who either demonize women or put them on a pedestal. We’ve seen he only has those two modes. First Emma is just a conquest, then she becomes the entire reason for his existence. There is no in-between. It made me wonder who they’d introduce as a love interest for Hook on the show, a woman who wasn’t a love interest first, someone he could see and get to know as a person, as a friend. I thought they should either be on the show already or they should be introduced very soon…  Belle did cross my mind, but I dismissed it completely. They wouldn’t go there, right?

Until now. Look at the scene again. Look at the way Belle looks at Hook. With empathy and understanding. She is the ‘love that refuses to give up on us’. That scene foreshadowed Belle not giving up on Hook. It may be romantic, it may be platonic. A story where Hook finds friendship with a woman and reconciliation with his enemy seems quite powerful as well. Regardless, that sentence, it wasn’t about Hook and Emma, it was about Belle and Hook.


As you can see, I’m too far in to ever come out. I think we’re headed for Swan Queen and I haven’t even rewatched the episode yet. The fact that they showed us a scene with two women in white dresses, taking each other’s hands and coming down the stairs in a big hall, is almost baffling to me. It clearly foreshadows a lesbian wedding (anyone who doesn’t know the show flipping through the channels at that point would have assumed exactly that) and they made such smart use of most people’s automatic repulsion to incest, especially between mother and daughter, that if for some of us, our mind briefly went there, we dismissed that thought completely. It definitely worked on me! Until I got a clever anon who pointed it out and made me realize why I didn’t see the obvious and I remembered that was exactly what happened. My mind went there, I felt uncomfortable because they were mother and daughter and I filed it away as quickly as possible.

They had their mother and daughter moment before this scene, it would have made more sense to this with Hook or with Charming. Instead, we got the visual equivalent of a lesbian wedding. Coincidence? I think not.


I saw so many interesting theories in the #dumb positivity tag and I don’t think I’ll be able to add much as I rewatch. I can’t say how thrilled I am that we are talking about the show and analyzing instead of agonizing, because that is exactly what I was hoping for. It brings the fun back, it’s an exhilarating game. It’s the act of defiance, we are reclaiming our entertainment. Booyah! (…or something. Is that too nineties? If so, can we bring it back anyway?)

In conclusion, I’ve never been more certain of Swan Queen than I was while writing of this post. I gained clarity as I wrote. Now I feel this entire little scene was a map legend that shows us exactly how we’re going to be tricked for an entire season and what to expect. Nothing is what it seems. I’m so ready for this ride and nothing can ever prepare me for it. Down the rabbit hole it is… who’s bringing the carrot cake?

Matsumoto Junko Interview (hide’s mother) part 3/?

Rock=delinquency seems to be the image that parents of that time felt, I think.

Yes that’s right.  Since I told him that he must never go to Dobuita[1], I thought that Hideto had obeyed me.  Unless he got good grades, I said he was forbidden from playing the guitar or anything like that, and so, so that I couldn’t tell him that, he studied as if his life depended on it.  Even when he went to high school that didn’t change.  So on those grounds, he studied hard, and so I never once said that [that he was forbidden to play guitar] to that boy.  However, he did frequent Dobuita though (laugh).

Did hide have a subject that he was best at?

He had mentioned that more than calculation, he liked essay questions.  He said that he liked this kind of thing best.  He seemed like the kind of person who liked to prove another person wrong or win an argument right (laugh).  That boy would write until his paper became completely black to memorize something.  He used that way to study.

hide would become completely absorbed into music while doing his studies however.

First, his appearance changed.  Straight jeans and things like that, he bought several of the same thing.  When people looked at him, they got the impression that he was wearing the same thing day and night, so sometimes I would say ‘how about wearing a different color?’ or something, but he insisted, “I don’t care what people say, I’m fine, so it’s fine.”

I wonder if the people reading this right now had parents who advised them the same thing?

There were also things like holes in his jeans pants too; because you know in my time, there wasn’t such things like holes in your pants.  Furthermore, that boy had drawn things on his shirts too.  Torn necklines, holes, shortened lengths of his clothes[2] and things like that … … .  Well you see, all those things, when that boy was in school, I would throw them all away.

AHAHA (laugh).  Did he become enraged?

No… …, he was silent.  He didn’t speak to me (laugh).  He would do things like put up Kiss and The Clash posters in his room (laugh).  In the beginning I would think he was mad, but then it seemed like he gave up being mad, but he’d silently put up the Kiss poster again.  It was this kind of repetition.

Hiroshi said that when he came home from school, his older brother and his mother were always quarrelling but, the reason must be what you said before right?

We never quarreled! (laugh).  But, for Hideto, even if it were drills [for homework], he’d open up the page for that day’s exercises and put it on his desk and do them diligently, but Hiroshi would close his drill book, and so as to not be discovered, he went outside to play (laugh).

[1] Dobuita was a street that hide frequented in his hometown (Yokosuka).  It was here that he said he learned about music, alcohol and women lol

[2] I think she’s trying to say hide would cut the lengths of his shirts/pants shorter.