[Was inspired by a Tumblr friend to write this story.]
We made out in the Uber on the way to my place from our first date: dinner, swing dancing, wine, and a little grab-ass when we thought no one was looking. We barely made it through the door to my apartment without your pinning me to the door and ravaging me in front of the neighbors. But we make it inside and skip the tour: my bed is the only stop either of us is interested in.
I sit next to you and, even though we just spent a 30 minute drive making out – come to think of it…it shouldn’t have taken that long to get here…was our driver enjoying the show? – well, after all that, I still start by looking deeply into your eyes with my hands on either side of your face and pressing my lips gently to yours. Our hunger takes over once again, and your hands begin to wander across my body. But I grab them in mine and hold them behind your back.
As I break our kiss, your mouth strains to reclaim mine, but I’ve begun to make my way down to your neck. Then to your collarbone. Then I release your hands and put my own at the bottom of your top and search your eyes for permission to remove it. My answer comes in a half-feral grunt and an emphatic nod. And so I pull your top up and our mouths reconnect for a moment while I remove your bra, before I begin the journey back down.
Teasingly and tantalizingly slowly.
But once I’ve kissed down your sternum, I take one breast in my warm hand as I lavish the other with firm, wet licks from my tongue and gentle sucks from my hungry mouth.
I switch back and forth between them as I feel you straining for more, writhing in eagerness for what is to come.
I kiss my way back up your sternum. To your collarbone. To your neck. To your earlobe. And finally to your mouth. My hands play with the waistband of your bottoms, teasing them down as I begin my journey back down your body, leaving even more kisses everywhere, worshiping you. I pull your bottoms and panties down, carefully unrwapping this gift from the gods without stopping my kissing pilgrimage down your body.
I stop at the mound of your pussy and reverse course. Your hands snap to my shoulders and push them down in frustration. My own hand finds your right nipple and begins to brush it. You lose your grip on my shoulders and I tease my way back up your body, a wicked grin on my face.
As my tongue flicks your nipple, my hands start to caress your thighs. As as I work my way down the path of kisses I’ve created so thoroughly, my hands move slowly up your thighs until they almost meet at your dripping wet pussy.
You spread your legs wider as my hands move up and as my mouth approaches your eager sex. And as you feel my breath, hot with desire against your pouting lips, my head turns to the side and plants a kiss on your inner thigh.
And then the other.
And while I did that, my hand slides up to your pussy and spreads your lips wide.
And then I take my first taste.
Long, slow, broad licks with my whole tongue, alternated with zig-zags across your lips, avoiding your clit for the moment. But as I sense you are ready, I suck gently on your clit and slide just one finger inside you. Your warmth is overwhelming. I bring you to the first of what I hope will be many orgasms this evening.
Sated for the moment, if only slightly, you begin the task of undressing me. While you unbutton my shirt, we kiss, and you can taste your essence on my tongue. Finally shed of my clothes as well, we embrace, finally feeling each other’s warmth without barrier.
As hard as it is to break away from our first uninhibited embrace, you want to feel and see my rigid cock for the first time, so you muster the strength to pull away from my kiss. Your hands slide down my chest to my tummy to my pelvis, with none of the patience I’ve just shown. You feel it radiating heat before you actually touch my cock, which is straining for attention and leaking precum.
You stare for a second, taking it in, before your own sodden and swollen sex reminds you what you’re after. Your hand grasps the base of it and you extend your tongue for a taste of the pearl of clear fluid just emerging from the tip of my uncut cock.
Your eyes find mine as your prepare to take the head into your warm mouth. I nod. My hand grips your shoulder ever so slightly.
And as you close your mouth over it, you lost my eyes, which have rolled back with the rest of my head. My grip on your shoulder tightens perceptibly. You take only a few short treks up and down my shaft before I pull you back up to eye level and whisper in your hear that you can have more of that later.
“First, I need you to put our first child inside you,” I whisper hotly into your ear, my voice ragged with desire and need.
I feel you shudder as you comprehend my words and my hands grasp your hips, both to steady you and to claim you. I take my place atop you once again as I pull my hands up the sides of your torso to your underarms and then up your arms, extending them above your head as we kiss madly. Each of my hands finds its partner at the end of your arms and grasps tightly, fingers intertwining.
I bring all our hands together just above your head. Our kisses continue, and your hips gyrate madly under mine, straining now for what I’ve promised.
I free one of my hands and leave the other holding both your wrists against the mattress. The free hand finds your left nipple. As you arch your back in response to this newest stimulus, I thrust my hips toward you, dragging my cock against your aching mound.
Unsure which direction to push toward, my hand or my cock, you are left to buck wildly under me, whimpering and desperate for me to finally push into you.
I linger here for an exquisite moment, my mouth on yours, enjoying the control I’m about to so thoroughly lose. For as soon as I slip inside you, I know I’ll lose myself to you. But for the moment, I revel in it.
I break our kiss and pin down your hips with mine, my cock resting against your mound. My eyes find yours. Hunger and passion and desire have given mine a fierce glow.
“Tell me what you want,” I demand. My voice shaking from the anticipation.
“You,” you reply.
Your hips adjust under me, trying to coax me inside. “Your cock. I want your cock.”
My mouth nibbles your ear lobe before you can reply, sending a small shock-wave through you.
“Fuck!” you shout. “Because I’m ready to be the mother of your children. Because I need to be. Because if you don’t put a baby in me right now I’m going to pin you down and take it myself.”
“Maybe the next one,” I say as I shift my body down and allow my cock to rest just at the entrance to your pussy. I can feel your warmth. Your slickness. You’re ready. The trail of precum I’ve left along your mound is evidence of my own eagerness.
My free hand returns to the hands above your head. We intertwine fingers again and I push both hands into the mattress.
“Oh god, fucking take me!” I hear you growl, in a voice I’ve never heard before.
The reaction of my body is immediate and involuntary. My hips thrust forward and the head of my cock finally finds its way into your passage.
The heat generated by this moment is satisfying. We both lose some of the tension that has built up in our muscles. But as the tension dissipates, we lose none of the drive. Your body has eased the path for my invading cock to make its way toward your pouting and hungry cervix.
As I bury myself entirely inside you, my balls press up against you, and you know that I’m all the way in. Your mouth reaches for mine.
I kiss back, but this kiss is unlike the others we’ve shared to this point. It is as though I might devour you with this kiss. And as we kiss my hips start to find a rhythm pumping into you. Staccato. Hard. Fast. Purposeful. Each one punctuated with a grinding of my hips against you, as though I were trying to push my entire being inside you.
My kiss has become ravenous. I find your breasts with my mouth as I continue to thrust into you.
“Oh God, I’m gonna cum!” you shout. I only growl in response, redoubling my thrusts. You’re meeting each with your own, pushing back against me.
As I feel your pussy clench around my cock, you exclaim, “Aah! I’m cumming!” And that sends me into a blinding orgasm.
My hips stop thrusting with my cock buried as far as it’s ever been inside you.
My red-hot cum shoots straight at your cervix.
Your spasms drink in my sperm, assuring that one of them will find its target.
We stay like this for what feels like forever. Shaking and panting and cumming.
When I’ve regained my senses, I grab a pillow from the bed and place it under your hips. Elevating you to make sure none of my cum is wasted.
“I love you,” I whisper into your ear as I nuzzle into your neck. “And so will the baby we just made.” My left hand rests on your tummy, already protective of the child I’m certain I’ve put there.
Hey guys, as promised, here is part 3 of Tutor Me? This is actually going to be the final part of this mini series, though if anyone would really like it, there is an epilogue that contains the next scene but it does contain smut. like real smut. if you’d like me to upload the epilogue, please send me an ask! don’t worry too much though, I’ll definitely do some more Reggie oneshots! he’s such a cutie lil fluffball.
A/N: Okay so I haven’t written any Thomas imagines for so long or any at all since my fic so I decided to write a little something. Haha I don’t know where I was trying to go with this one… so my bad if it’s bad. Hopefully it isn’t too bad. And sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes etc. Also for any autocorrect mistakes since I wrote this one on my phone.
It’s not like parties weren’t fun before - it’s just, now that everyone was more themselves after the whole squip incident, it made things ultimately better. Jeremy didn’t feel so alone when he was with these people - his friends - because they all liked him for him and he actually enjoyed going out with them.
Moving across the street, Jeremy watched everyone with fond eyes, his cheeks red and his chest warm from the numbing buzz of the alcohol. Rich and Jake were running around - well, Rich was limping around - way ahead of the entire group, Christine was with the rest of the girls a few feet ahead, while he and Michael lagged behind the rest of them, arms wrapped around eachother for support.
They were all walking in the middle of the street, already a few blocks away from the party they were originally at - they didn’t know where they were going, but they were leaving and Jeremy was okay with that.
Michael suddenly stopped walking, causing Jeremy to look away from everyone and at his best friend, who was staring past him. Turning around, he noticed they were standing in front of their park - the park where they spent most of their childhood at, playing games and chasing each other around like the dorks they were.
“C'mon!” Michael cried, grabbing Jeremy’s hand. Allowing Michael to drag him to the park, he blushed over the warm hand in his, staring down at the ground.
“Look!” Michael shouted, causing Jeremy to look up and - oh no.
“Do you remember when we used to try and climb the tube slide?” He asked, pointing up at said tube slide, which they were standing in front of.
Jeremy nodded, scrunching his eyebrows together as he eyed the Tube of Doom. “Yeah, I do.” The flickering light from the street lamp next to the park made it all the more menacing. He shuddered.
Michael snorted at Jeremy’s actions, removing his hand from the tall boy’s so he could walk over to the slide. Placing a hand on it, he grinned and looked at his friend. “Remember how you could never do it because you sucked at climbing?”
“You were so bad!” Michael snorted again, making Jenemy throw his hands in the air in mock offence.
“I was scared of falling off!” He cried, crossing his arms over his chest. He pouted. “Besides, I could totally do it now.”
Michael’s eyes lit up mischeviously. “Oh really?”
“Alright, then do it.”
Jeremy froze, staring at him, his jaw dropped. Glancing up at the tube slide, he shuffled a bit, nearly taking a step back. He wasn’t actually planning on climbing it, not right now.
Michael gasped, bringing the tall boy’s attention to him. He was still grinning, but he looked like he was on the verge of laughter, fully leaning against the slide now. “Oh my God - you’re still scared, aren’t you?” He teased.
Jeremy, now wanting to prove Michael wrong, was already moving forward. “Shut up, no I’m not,” “ He cried, voice cracking on the ‘scared’. "YOU’RE scared!”
Michael took a step back, his smile dropping as Jeremy stepped onto the end of the tube slide and hoisted himself up onto it. Taking a step back, he held his hand in front of him as if he we’re ready to catch Jeremy if he fell.
“Jeremy, it’s fine if you don’t want to - I was just joking!” He called, but Jeremy just replied with some random weird noise.
Grabbing at the slide, Jeremy forced himself to moved up higher, ignoring Michael’s giggles and snorts from behind him. There was no,way he was going to back out of this now, they killed fucking super computers together, there was no way a SLIDE was going to stop him now.
Gripping onto the sides of the slide, Jeremy decided to glance down at Michael - and immediately regretted it. God, he was so high up and Michael looked so tiny okay not very tiny but tiny enough and if he fell down he would totally die and then it would be Michael’s fault and then Michael would go to prison and —
“Jeremy, you don’t have to do this to prove a point!” Michael called up, making Jeremy blink. Looking down at his hand, which were white from gripping the slide so hard, he relaxed his grip and continued up.
“N - no!” He shouted, voice cracking. “I did this and now I’m comitti -” Jeremy looked down again and squeaked. “HOW DID YOU DO THIS WHEN YOU WERE TEN?!” He shrieked, earning another wheezing laugh from Michael.
Ignoring his sweaty hands, he closed his eyes and gulped, forcing himself up higher. Just relying on the feel of the slide, he continuously reached up and grabbed the slide, doing it until he couldn’t grab anything anymore no matter how far he reached.
Opening his eyes slowly, he saw his hand sticking in the air, grabbing at nothing. Looking around, he let out a strangled noise when he realized that he did it. He actually fucking did it!
“HOLY SHIT, YOU DID IT!” Michael screamed from below, as if reading his mind.
Jeremy threw his hands in the air in victory, despite how fast his heart was beating against his rib cage, screaming right back at Michael. “I DID IT!”
Feeling himself wobble, he immediately grabbed onto the slide, holding on for dear life. Looking around, he kaufged nervously, then looked down at the boy below. “Hey, uh, I don’t think I can get down.”
Everything was silent for a moment, the two of them just staring at each other before Michael burst into laughter, his voice echoing into the night air.
“You’re kidding!” He managed to wheeze out, hugging himself in an attempt to calm down. It failed.
“I’m not!” Jeremy cried, looking back at the slide. He honesty couldn’t find a single way to get down without falling off. God, he didn’t want to die this way.
Hearing Michael shout a quick “oh my god”, he turned his attention back to him to yell, but froze. There he stood, Michael Mell, laughing his dorky laugh without a worry in the world in front of a flickering street lamp at two in the morning - arms clutching at his stomach, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and laughter, hair sticking up in every place possible, glasses askew, freckles in every spot upon his cheeks that jeremy had memorized so long ago, his signature red hoodie crumpled - a perfect man.
“I love you.” Jeremy blurted out without thinking, so captivated by the man below him.
Michael’s laughter caught in his throat, making him choke and cough. Looking up at Jeremy with wide eyes, he called out between coughs. “You – what?!”
Well, Jeremy was already going to die anyways. Might as well get it out.
“I’m in love with you!” He called out, leaning over the slide to get a better look at Michael.
“Jeremy, you’re slipping!” Michael shouted, though his voice was muffled from the hands that covered it. His entire face was hot.
“Get down!” Michael pointed at the ground, looking around, trying to calm his beating heart and ignore what was happening because Jeremy was insane and he was going to fall off and die somehow.
“No! I need you to know that I love you!” Jeremy shouted, voice high pitched and wavering, not even bothering to hold onto the slide anymore.
“Are you INSANE?!” Michael shrieked, running his hands through his hair, pulling at it a bit. God, Jeremy needed to get down now.
“I don’t know, maybe –” All it took was for Jeremy to lean forward a little bit, and then he was off, hitting the ground roughly with a loud shout.
Gasping for air, he stared out at the sky, the stars twinkling above him brightly. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard the sound of feet tapping against the ground and then suddenly Michael’s face appeared in his vision and all of the stars in the sky seemed dim compared to the freckles on his best friends face.
Jeremy liked that he could see Michael’s freckles now.
“My chest hurts,” He wheezed, his voice coming out hoarse. Michael smiled suddenly, relieved giggles slipping past his lips.
“You just fell from a ten to fifteen foot slide, I would imagine it would.” Michael replied, his voice high pitched and his cheeks burning, sitting with him as his friend tried to calm his gasps for air, his mind racing. Jeremy said he love you, Jeremy said he loved you, Jeremy said he loved you –
“So..” He whispered without even realizing, basically staring at Jeremy, who was staring back.
“You love me.”
“I.. d - did say that, yes.”
“Did you.. mean it?” Michael asked, his voice as high pitched as it was before, his entire face as red as his hoodie.
Jeremy felt his own face heat up, but he swallowed and forced himself to nod. “I did m - mean that yes!” He squeaked out, his voice cracking on the 'mean.’
Michael made a weird noise and looked away, covering his mouth. The two of them say in an awkward silence, one too lost in his thoughts, the other literally just screaming in his head the entire time.
“I love you too.” Michael suddenly said, watching as Jeremy sat up the quickest Michael haf ever seen him move in his life, his blue eyes wide and full of hope.
“W - what?!” He cried, his voice cracking.
“I love you too!” Michael cried again, wondering if his face could get any hotter before it sets itself on fire.
Jeremy suddenly jumped up onto his knees, scooting closer to Michael, who’s eyes widened from the sudden closeness. He leaned back a bit, covering most of his face except for his eyes again - the taller boy’s own face was red too.
“Why are you blushing, you said it first!” He wheezed out through his hands, somehow making Jeremy turn an even darker shade of red.
“That’s different!” He squeaked, looking away. The two of them sat there for a moment, too close yet not close enough, silent and awkward. Jeremy slowly looked back at Michael.
“Can we kiss now?”
Michael suddenly shot up off the ground, turning around. “You’re so embarrassing!” He shouted, heading back towards the street, moving in quick, long strides. He heard Jeremy standing up behind him but he didn’t turn around or stop.
“Wait, Michael, come back! I fell off of a slide!”
“SHUT UP THAT WAS YOUR OWN FAULT!”
Now that they were standing on Jeremy’s doorstep, awkwardly standing side by side, Jeremy almost wished he didn’t say anything.
The two of them had walked home in dead silence, too lost in their thoughts to even think about anything to say - but now that they were here, the two of them were at a loss for words, avoiding eye contact the entire time.
“N - Nice, uh, weather we’re having tonight,” Jeremy managed to squeak out, making Michael look at him with wide eyes.
Letting a chokes laugh slip past his lips, Michael blushed and looked down at the ground, running a hand through his hair. “Oh my God, you’re making this so awkward.”
The tall boy suddenly looked at him, mouth dropping, hands grabbing at the air as he tried to stammer his way through whatever this was. “Wh – I – shut up, I - I’m trying to figure out what to s - say!!”
“That’s your problem, stop trying to hard!” Michael shot back, shoving his hands into his pockets, making no effort to look at him. He was just so embarrassed and his heart was beating so, so fast..
The two of them stood there some more, Michael picking at his hoodie while Jeremy rocked back and forth. At the time they both looked at each other, opening their mouths, but faltering at the sight of the other one doing the same.
Michael closed his mouth, and Jeremy took the chance and spoke. “T - Thank you, for coming to the party.. with me.” He mumbled.
Blinking, his friend smiled slightly. “Of course, I would go anywhere with you.”
A second past before they both realized what Michael said, and then their faces were as red a cherries. Looking away, Jeremy rubbed his cheek, smiling at nothing and everything at the same time.
“I had a f - fun time I guess -” He reached for the door knob, pulling the door open. He heard a faint shuffling as he stepped inside, turning around immediately to look at Michael, who just looked even more stunning because of the light shining on him from inside his house.
“Y - Yeah, me too!” Michael said quickly. They were silent again, and Jeremy wished for death quietly as he started go close the door.
“O - Okay, goodnight I gue – ” Before he could even finish his sentence, Michael’s foot appeared at the bottom of the door, keeping it from fully closing. Grabbing the door knob, Michael pulled the door open quickly, eyes wide and full of hope.
“Can I kiss you?!” He shouted, feeling his cheeks heat up again and oh my god he’s blushing so bad and Jeremy is staring he should have just left oh god –
“Yeah -” Jeremy squeaks out, his voice quieter than before. Michael jumps at the sound of it, but immediately steps closer to his tall friend - boyfriend? Oh well.
The two of them shuffle awkwardly before Michael just decides to grab onto his shirt and pull him down a bit, their lips hovering just above one another’s, their breaths mixing. Leaning forward quickly, he attempted to initiate the kiss, but their teeth flanked together and Michael’s glasses nearly jabbed Jeremy in the eye, causing him to pull away.
The two stared at each other, blinking, before Michael burst into laughter. Jeremy watched him, noticing the familiar little things like the crinkle near his eyes and the light shining in his eyes. Feeling better, he joined him quickly, feeling the previous tension melt from his shoulders.
“That - that was such a bad kiss,” Michael wheezed, resting his forehead against Jeremy’s shoulder as he laughed. Jeremy blushed, his laughter dying down shortly after that.
After Michael calmed down, the two sat there like that for a while before Jeremy spoke up again. “M - Maybe we should try again.”
Looking back up at him, Michael searched his eyes before softly saying, “Okay.”
Leaning down, Jeremy made sure to avoid his glasses and gently pressed his lips to Michael’s. Feeling his heart beat soar, he reached up and cupped Michael’s face, gently brushing his thumb against his cheek. The kids was sweet and soft and slow, but it was exactly what these boys had wanted for so long.
Pulling away, Michael gave Jeremy a blinding grin, his cheeks still a dark red.
A/N: I came up with this idea whilst practicing for my singing exam (yeah, beauty and the beast for grade 1 exam in march…fun) so anyway, here’s some Galra!Keith x reader!
Tale as old as time
Echoes of your horse’s footprints against the cobblestone
grew louder and louder as you approached the desolate castle. Your father was
missing and this is where your horse had led you. Whatever had happened to him,
it couldn’t have been good. Landing on the ground, you swept your dress up as
you walked up the steps leading to the door…which had been broken open…strange,
you thought. Your horse protesting whinnying in fear. “Shush, I’ll be back with
papa soon. Don’t worry.” You reassured her.
True as it can be
Lifting a lit candelabra, you carried on your brave journey
through the abandoned castle…or so you thought. “She might be the one!” you
heard a voice whisper shout. “Who’s there?!” You called out. “Me.” A voice
announced. “Who?” you asked nobody in particular. “I said me.” As if trying to
prove a point the candelabra in your hand pointed at its self. “Oh!” You
dropped the candelabra in shock. “Now that was rude.” The talking candelabra.
You got down on your knees. “You’re…alive?” it was supposed to come out as a
statement but ended up being a question. “Why, yes. Now if you don’t mind. I
will introduce myself. I am Lance.” The candlestick bowed and reached out to
your hand as if to kiss it, but you were scared it was going to drip hot
candlewax on you so you pulled your hand away from the objects reach. “Lance,
you don’t even know if she is compatible with the prince and you’re just going
to assume things?” Another voice called out. “Who was that?” you asked Lance. “Pidge.”
Lance responded almost sourly.
Barely even friends
“Don’t you go and say
my name like that Lance! You know I’m right.” A small clock started stumbling
off an overturned table. “Hello, my fair lady. I am Pidge.” The polite clock
bowed in front of you, now beside Lance. “How are you two like that?” you asked
curiously. You knew you had been asking for adventure, but you didn’t expect it
to come in the form of magic. “Well, the castle is under a tragic curse
unfortunately.” Pidge started. “I’m sorry, I would love to hear the story
behind the castle but I need to find my papa.” You told the personified
objects, getting up from the floor. “Wait!” they called after you, waddling and
hopping after you in urgency.
Then somebody bends
As you climbed the stairs leading upwards towards the top of
the castle. You started to notice how most of the other non-talking objects in
the castle had been destroyed or overturned. Most of the faces on the paintings
decorating the hallways had been riddled with…were those claw marks? Whatever
curse that had taken over this castle…it must have been a powerful one. Yet the
candelabra and the clock kept on following you, up and up you went and they
would not give up on stopping you. No matter how short their legs were. “Wait!
My lady you don’t know what you are getting into!” Pidge called after you. “I
can defend myself thank you!” You shouted back at him. You didn’t like to be
told what you could and couldn’t do. No matter how hard the task was.
“Papa?” You called out as you finally got to the top of the
castle. “Y/N! You shouldn’t be here!” Your papa worried from a cell. You ran
over to him, kneeling down beside him, holding his hand through the bars. “Papa,
what is this place?” You asked feebly. Worried for your father’s welfare. “Y/N,
you shouldn’t have come, this castle is alive!” he stressed. “I’ve noticed, and
just like that the candelabra and little cogs worth clock caught up with you.
“My lady!” Pidge retaliated. “Y/N, they are kind but there is something else
living here, a beast!” Your father had fear in his eyes. And that was when you
realised, the claw marks, the overturned furniture. Suddenly, you had this
feeling you were being watched when the hairs on the back of your neck stood on
Just a little change
“What are you doing here?” a gravelly voice called out from
the darkness of the prison. “I’ve come to retrieve my father.” You furrowed
your brows in anger at the person who had treated your father in such a cruel
way. “Visitors aren’t welcome here.” Was all he said. “Well, I apologise for my
father’s trespasses, but can you please let him go?” You asked. “No…he must
serve for his crime.” The voice relented. “Why? He didn’t do anything!” You
shouted at the dark corner. Suddenly, yellow eyes glowed from the corner of the
room. You gasped slightly, you weren’t expecting this. I mean…stuff like this
only existed in story books? Right?
Small to say the
You squinted at the eyes following your trembling form. “There
must be something I can do?” You questioned to yourself more than to the
mysterious figure in the dark. “Well then he shouldn’t have come here!” The
voice yelled, making you shrink back towards your beloved father. “Wait! I’ll
do anything…” You tried to bargain. “…take me instead.” You refused to think
over it. You didn’t want your father to die in this place, scared half to
death. “Y/N no!” your father protested. “You…you would, do that for him?” the
voice softened slightly. “If I did, would you let him go?” You asked. “Yes…but
you most promise to stay here forever.” The voice bargained. Before you could
agree, you needed answers, squinting your eyes slightly. “Come into the light.”
You stated. You heard small footsteps before a figure stepped into the light.
Both a little scared
You gasped as the figure revealed himself to you, purple fur
riddled his being, cat like ears sprouting from the sides of his head. He had
yellow eyes with no pupils, black claws and sharp teeth. Turning back towards
your father he searched your eyes for some other way. “NO Y/n, I won’t let you
do this!” he refused, but it was too late. “You have my word.” You stepped into
the light, in front of the figure. “Done.” He growled before dragging your father
out of his cell. And away from your sobbing form. “Papa!” you called out. You
didn’t even get to say goodbye.
Neither one prepared
It had been a few days since the beast had taken you as
prisoner, you had refused to come out of your room. The wardrobe was the only
thing that kept you company. He comforted you through the whole ordeal of being
trapped forever under the beast’s control. “Oh, Coran, what am I going to do?”
you sobbed. “Trust me kiddo, the master has good intentions, once you get
underneath all of the fur and…well, meanness.” Coran summed up. Just great, you
were never going to leave. But you couldn’t stay in your room forever, you’d
have to eat sooner or later. And just as if on cue, the beast knocked on your
door. “What is it?” You asked, distress clearly found in your voice. “Would you
like to come down for dinner?” he asked. “No.” you responded blatantly. He let
out a small growl. “Would you like to come down to dinner please?” He asked
once again in a much angrier tone. “No, thank you!” you refused once again. You
then heard a murmur of conversation from behind the door. “It would give me the
greatest honour if you would join me for dinner…please.” He tried once again.
“I said no, thank you!” you shouted back at the door. How could he imprison you
forever and then just expect you to both get along like old friends?! It was so
Beauty and the beast
“Fine! You can’t stay in there forever!” he yelled. “I can
and I will.” You promised. “Ugh! Fine, go ahead and starve for all I care!” he
continued to scream and shout before you heard him stomp down the corridor…this
was hopeless. Later on, the objects of the castle took pity on you and snook
you down stairs for dinner, unknown to the master. They sung you a lovely tune
whilst you ate and everything was so divine and delicious. And like Lance sang,
nothing came second best! Afterwards, you grew curious towards the rest of the
castle. “Hey Pidge…I bet you know everything there is to know about the
castle.” You poked the clockwork’s chest slightly. “Well…well I, yes, yes I
do.” Pidge’s clock face practically steamed up.
Ever just the same
Exploring the castle, you all took a stroll down a corridor
lined with knights armour on either side. It was like it had just come out of
one of your story books. “This is amazing.” You breathed. It truly was, even
though the architecture of the building had grown grotesque and gothic, it was
truly a marvel to look at. But when Lance and Pidge told you about the
forbidden west wing of the castle, you couldn’t help but grow curious. Whilst
distracting them, you jumped up the stairs at the first chance you got.
Sometimes your curious mind just wouldn’t quit. As you wandered down the hall,
you realised everything had grown more destructive and even more desolate. Like
a hurricane had ripped its way through here. You came across a portrait where a
pair of kind brown eyes stared at you, not being able to see the rest of the
persons face, due to most of the painting hanging off the frame due to more
claw marks, you tried to raise the fabric and see the rest of the strangers
face before you heard something get knocked over. Thinking it was the beast,
you ran into the nearest room to hide.
Ever a surprise
Almost tripping on multiple objects, you navigated yourself
through the room until you came across an almost pristine table. Where a rose
floated, a jar being placed above and around it as if it was the most precious
thing in the world. In curiosity, you got swept up from your own common sense
and decided to lift the glass jar to investigate. But as soon as you did, you
heard a growl from the other side of the room. Turning around you saw the
beast, he was staring at you angrily with his yellow eyes, he looked as if he
were ready to slice your throat with his jet black claws and paint the walls of
the castle with your blood. Continuing to growl, he then prowled towards,
growing more furious with every step he took. Snatching the jar from your hands
he placed it back over the rose protectively. His yellow eyes fell on to
you…you couldn’t seem to find a soul behind them.
Ever as before
“Why did you come here?” He snarled, his lip curled upwards,
revealing more of his fangs. “I’m, I’m sorry.” You stumbled over your words in
fear of what he would do to you. “You were told it was forbidden to come here.
You knew and you came anyway!” he shouted. “Do you realise what you could have
done!” He then back handed what was left of an overturned table, snapping the
leg of it clean off. Startling you greatly, you backed away, your back pressing
up against what was left of a wardrobe. “Get out!” he said in a low and
dangerous tone. “wha-” “I SAID GET OUT!” He practically roared in hatred. You
dashed out of the room before he could hit you and snap you in half as well.
Ever just as sure
“What? Where are you going?!” Lance shouted in protest.
“Anywhere but here! I’m sorry!” You shouted back at Pidge and Lance as you made
for the door. Finding your horse outside you swung your leg over the saddle and
rode into the dark wood. But as your horse started to buck and quake, wolves
emerged from behind the trees, growling in anticipation of their next meal. Your
horse ran away from them in fear, but they were a lot faster and stronger. They
started to snap and howl at your horse’s legs, managing to keep up with you at
a steady pace. Before you could get any further away from them, ice broke
beneath your horse’s hooves. Finding yourself engulfed in icy water. One of the
wolves snapped and whined as it drowned into the depths. Managing to make it
out of the water, you continued to gallop away from the predators, but they
jumped in front of you before you could go any further.
As the sun will rise
In fear, your horse threw you off. Landing in the snow, you
got back up to protect your friend. Grabbing the nearest fallen tree branch,
you began to hit any pouncing wolves in the head. But before you could get back
on your horse and charge away. One of the wolves ripped the branch out of your
grip, leaving you and your horse defenceless. Game over. One of them pounced on
you, biting and dragging you by your cloak. But before another one could bite
or snap off any of your body parts, the wolf was ripped away from you mid-jump.
Suddenly the beast appeared, roaring in the wolf’s face. He then began to protect
you, nothing but hostility on his face as he leaned over you. As if using his
body as a human shield. He then began to attack the wolves, even though they
constantly bit and ripped into his fur and flesh. He was crazy.
Tale as old as time
They relentlessly attacked him, but he kept on tearing and
ripping them away from him. Throwing them into nearby trees as if they weighed
nothing. In fear, the rest of the wolf pack ran away, knowing there was another
predator much larger and scarier than them. The beast stood alone in the snow
as it fell, he looked almost at home, in the woods. As if he belonged here.
Before you could get a word of thanks out, he turned towards you, revealing
blood pouring out numerous deep gashes on his forearm. He fell into the snow,
clearly exhausted. Turning to your horse, you considering running away back to
your village and father, leaving him here to die in the cold. But you couldn’t
find it in yourself to leave him, after all…he had just saved your life. You
ran towards his passed out form, ripping your cloak from your shoulders to keep
him warm. Carrying him onto your horse, you then led her back to the castle.
Tune as old as song
As soon as you got back to the castle, you settled the
master into his chair. Having Allura, the teapot, pour some hot water into a
basin, so you could clean his wound. Wringing out the towel, you made your way
over to the now conscious beast, who was licking his wound. “Here, don’t do
that.” You scolded lightly, but he just growled at you, as if nothing had
changed. The objects backed away in fear of what he would do. You reached out
towards him, hoping he would relent, but he just continued to move his arm away
from you. “Just hold still!” you ordered, the towel brushed against his arm
slightly, causing him to roar in pain. “That hurts!” He shouted in your face.
“Well, if you just held still it wouldn’t hurt as much!” you shot back. “If you
hadn’t run away, this wouldn’t have happened!” He carried on, gesturing to his
wounded arm. “Well if you hadn’t scared me half to death I wouldn’t have ran
away.” You settled. The beast looked for something to shoot back at you but his
face fell as you had won the argument. But a smile erupted onto his face as he
came up with something “Well, you shouldn’t have been in the west wing!” He
pointed out triumphantly. “Well you should learn to control your temper.” You
“Now hold still.” You held his arm gently. “This might sting
a little.” You added before pressing the towel to his arm. He cringed away in
pain as you began to clean the wound. “By the way…thank you for saving my
life.” You continued gratefully. His face relaxed tremendously before turning
back to you and responding in a calm tone, “You’re welcome.”
Finding you can
Later on in the week, you found yourself strolling the
grounds with your horse in tow. Your eyes travelling around the snow filled
garden before your horse nuzzled you in the back. Turning around, you hugging
your horse happily. Little did you know, the beast was watching you from one of
the balconies, conversing with Pidge and Lance. “I’ve never felt this way about
anyone before.” He mumbled aloud, looking down at his bandaged arm. “I must do
something for her.” He declared confidently. “But what?” a confused expression
fell across his face as he turned to his friends. “Well, there are the usual
things, flowers, chocolates, promises you don’t intend to keep.” Pidge listed
off. “No, no, no. It has to be something special. Something that sparks her
interest. Wait! I got it!” Lance held up his arm as if to click, but all that
happened was his flame flickered.
Learning you were
A couple of hours later and you find yourself being led
towards a pale white door by none other than the beast himself. “I want to show
something to you.” He declared, gesturing to the door. His ears flapped
excitedly, he was so much different now you thought. It was like all that anger
had just dissolved from his being. He began to open the door, but closed it
instead turning to you with excited eyes rather than angry ones. “But first you
must close your eyes.” You gave him a sceptically look but obeyed anyway. He
bit his lip in anticipation as his eyes scanned your peaceful face. ‘God, she
was beautiful.’ He thought to himself, blushing dark purple at the thought. As
he led you into the room by your hands you asked “Can I open them?” the beast
turned back towards you, an excited glint in his eye. “No, not yet…wait here.”
He left your side for a moment.
Certain as the sun
You heard him opening numerous curtains before you asked
“Now, can I open them?” you asked with a slight laugh in your voice.
“Alright…now.” The beast whispered gently. Opening your eyes, revealed
thousands upon thousands of books. It was a huge library. The one that Pidge
and Lance had told you about but nothing got the time to show you. It was
simply breath-taking. “I can’t believe it; I have never seen so many book in my
life.” You twirled around in a circle just so you could take it all in.
“Really? You like it?” He asked. “Yes, it’s wonderful.” You walked around him,
looking through all the different shades of leather. “Then it’s yours.” He
declared, a smile brightening up his features. “Thank you so much.” You turned
towards him, taking his hands in yours. The objects were staring at you all
from the door, fangirling among themselves as they declared that it was
working. “What’s working?!” Hunk, the teacup asked, jumping up and down to try
and see. “Allura, I don’t understand!” He pouted. “All in good time Hunk, all
in good time.” Allura chided.
Rising in the east
Over the next couple of days after that, you and the beast
grew gradually closer and closer. It started with breakfast together. Where the
utensils would make you porridge, you would politely use your spoon and sip
away from your bowl. But the beast just devoured his greedily with no eating
utensils whatsoever. It was kind of a turnoff for you. Looking away in
embarrassment you continued to eat your porridge. After getting encouraging
looks from Hunk and Allura, the beast tried to eat with a spoon at the side of
his bowl. He couldn’t use it very well after so long, but instead you offered
him an encouraging smile and held up your bowl. Smiling at you the beast
mimicked your movements, doing the same. You both toasted each other before you
sipped from the bowls. Then you both fed the birds in the garden, you showed
him how to get the birds to go into your hand with the help of the seeds. He
seemed very happy about this accomplishment, which made his ears perk up in
joy. You giggled at the cute expression. There was suddenly something that
hadn’t been there before. It then suddenly turned into a snowball fight, which
you both greatly enjoyed.
Tale as old as time
That night, the beast took a bath, nervously blowing bubbles
into the water as if contemplating on whether he should drown himself. “Calm
down your majesty, tonight is the night. You will be bold, daring!” Lance
encouraged. “Bold, daring!” The beast repeated beginning to shake as he rid
himself of all the water matted in his fur. “And when the moment is right! You
confess your love.” Lance sighed dreamily. “I…I can? No, no I can’t.” he
discouraged himself. “You care for the girl don’t you?” Lance pointed at him
with a flickering hand/candle. “More than anything.” The beast stared at his
reflection in the mirror, revealing the adoration he held in his eyes for her. “Well
then you must tell her!” Lance instructed. The coat hanger then continued on
styling the beast’s hair, resulting in a short ponytail tied off with a red
ribbon. Pidge then scuttled into the room, clearing their throat as they did.
“Your lady…awaits.” He gestured towards the door.
Song as old as rhyme
You gracefully strolled down the stairs, wearing an over the
shoulder yellow dress, revealing your curves yet plooming out below your waist.
Your Y/H/C hair put up into a bun while the rest of your hair cascaded over
your shoulders. To put it simply you looked absolutely stunning. So stunning,
the beast was stunned into silence. He looked to Lance for guidance, him giving
the best thumbs up he could muster before he took a deep breath, meeting you
halfway. He was dressed in a red suit, making him look rather dashing, his hair
tied up into a ponytail, revealing his jaw line more even though it was hidden
under purple fur. You smiled at him all the same, he offered you his arm,
taking it gratefully you let him lead you down the stairs.
Beauty and the beast
You had dinner, the beast tried his best to eat politely,
which made your heart warm with how much effort he had put into making tonight
special. It truly made you happy that he had grown to care for you so much. As
the coat hanger began to play the violet, you grew excited. Getting up from
your chair, you ran over to the beast, grabbing his hands in excitement,
leading him to the ballroom. He looked at your hesitantly, afraid that if he
held you too tight, he might break you. As you entered the ball room, you led
him to the centre of it. Placing your right hand in his left, you guided his
right to lie on your waist. You saw him gulp nervously, he certainly wasn’t
used to such close contact with a beautiful girl like you. As you pulled
yourself closer towards his body, you gave him an encouraging smile before you
started to dance with him. Your dress twirled out beneath you as he twirled you
around, he may not admit it, but he was a good dancer.
Tale as old as time
You grew to be happy with him by your side, resting your
head on his chest, you enjoyed the moment as best as you could. Little did you
know that the beast was looking over at his friends in excitement with nothing
on his face except the expression that said ‘it’s working!’. But the night had
to come to an end eventually. So he led you out onto the balcony, where you
both gazed at the stars. Sitting down beside him, you nervously fiddled with
your dress, doing your best to hide your blush underneath the darkness of the
sky. But the beast was well prepared to confess his love for you. “Y/N?” he
asked hesitantly, shuffled a tad bit closer to you. He took your hand, “Are you
happy here with me?” he started. “yes.” You answered without even thinking
about it. The beast smiled in happiness, but you looked towards the sky in
sadness. There was just one thing. “What is it?” the beast asked, noticing your
discomfort. “I just wish I could see my father again; I miss him so much.” You
confessed. You knew it was selfish to ruin such a perfect moment with your
thoughts, but it had to be said sooner or later. The beast thought deeply
before coming up with an answer to your problems, leading you up to his room,
he showed you the magic mirror. Placing it in your palms, the beast trusted you
with it. “Just ask it.” He told you. “I would like to see my father…please.”
You asked. Before you could prepare for what was supposed to come next, an
image of your father falling down on a country lane crackled to life on the
mirror’s surface. “Oh no!” you cried “What is it? What’s going on?” the beast
asked, concerned for your father. “My father, he is ill, maybe even dying and
he’s all alone!” you explained. If only there were a way…the beast looked down
at the magical rose, another petal fell from it as it drooped. He was running
out of time. “Then…then you must go to him.” He turned away, almost as if the
words physically pained him. “What did you say?” you couldn’t believe it. “I
release you.” He stated louder. “That means…I’m free?” you asked yourself.
“Yes.” He confirmed sadly. You turned away to go retrieve your father but
before you left you turned back to return the mirror to the beast. “No…keep
it.” He pushed it back into your hands. “So you can always look back…and
remember me.” He added softly, brushing his fingers through your hair fondly.
You were going to miss him. You wanted to hug him goodbye, but you felt as if
you did that, it would just make leaving harder. Leaving the room, you ignored
Pidge looking dreamily up at you as he entered the room. “Ah…I’m guessing we’ll
be human again in no time, huh?” They started. “I let her go.” The beast
answered. “Ah yes…young love so romant-wait, wait, you did what?!” Pidge
realised. “How could you do that?!” they shouted in distress. “I had to.” He
replied softly. “But why?” Pidge cried. “Because…I love her.” he looked
downwards as if her not being in his presence caused him pain.
Song as old as rhyme
Leaving the castle, you found your father on the country
road and brought him back to your little town. “Oh papa, please don’t ever do
that again. You gave me such a fright!” you told him as you fed him soup. “I’m
sorry Y/N, but I couldn’t leave you with that…that beast!” your father cried.
“Oh but papa, it turns out he’s so much nicer than he made out to be. He’s kind
and considerate, he cares about me.” You told him gently. “Sounds like someone
has a little crush?” your father wiggled his eyebrows at you. “What? Papa!” you
slapped his arm playfully. But something didn’t feel right. You missed the
beast so much. Going outside you looked up at the stars. Taking out the mirror,
you held it up as you spoke the words “Please, show me the beast.” You asked
politely. The mirror crackled to life as it revealed to you the beast, he was
lying down in a field near the castle. It looked like as if he had lost the
will to live, he wasn’t dying was he? But the curse…the rose…it barely had any
petals left!? Does that mean when the petals run out he dies?! NO! this can’t
be happening. You had no time to lose. “I’m sorry Papa, the beast is in danger
I must go help him!” You shouted to him as you jumped onto your horse once
again. “Be careful Y/n!” you heard your father shout out after you. “I will!”
Beauty and the beast
As soon as you got back to the gates of the castle, you
launched yourself off the back of your horse and ran as fast as you could to
the gardens. You turned around frantically, trying to decipher exactly where
you saw him in the mirror. Running to a path leading out of the garden, you
followed the path, hoping with all your being, you would find him before it was
too late. “Beast! Beast, where are you!” You cried out. “Y/N?” the beast called
out. You ran over to his side. “Oh Beast, what is happening to you?” you began
to cry. “I’m dying Y/N.” He answered sadly. “But why? I want you to stay.” You
took his hand and held it to your face, showing that you weren’t afraid of his claws
or his fur. You truly cared about him. “I’m sorry Y/N…I was going to tell you
that night, under better circumstances.” He started to cough. He really was
dying. Tears starting to stream down your face. “What? What were you going to
tell me?” you urged him, placing you hand on his cheek so he would stay awake.
“I was going to tell you…that I love you…and I always will.” He finished, tears
in his own eyes. “Oh beast, I love you too.” You moved quickly as you bent down
to meet his lips, giving him a true love’s kiss. But before anything else could
happen fireworks started to set off, literal fireworks. Sparkles of light shot
out of the beast’s limp body as he fell dead. He was then lifted into the air
by some invisible force. Being turned around as light shot out from his arms
and legs and finally his head. You started to panic, what was happening? As the
beast fell back to the ground, you waited to see if he could move. Lance,
Allura and Hunk watched from the side-lines, silent tears running down their
faces as they watched what was going on, but not from sadness, from joy. You
backed away as the figure began to move. He stood up, admiring his skin
coloured hand and touching his ears before turning to you. Revealing a human
man, with dark hair, brown eyes and white pearly teeth. Who was this person? “Y/N,
it’s me.” He confirmed. You walked up to him, placing your hand on his cheek
hesitantly. He leaned into your touch, showing you how much adoration he held
for you in his eyes. “It is you!” you
cried. “Wait…I never really asked you for your name?” you asked him. “I’m
Prince Keith, and I’m hoping you will become my queen.” He looked at you
seductively. Blushing under his gaze you just mumbled a shut up before pulling him closer to you so he could kiss you. His lips
melding into yours as more fireworks set off.
Beauty and the beast
Before you knew it, it was your first dance after your wedding.
You were married to Keith and you were now his queen. Your father, Allura,
Hunk, Coran, Pidge and Lance all stood to the side, happily human again.
Watching happily as you stared into each other’s eyes with nothing but how much
love you held for each other. “Are they gonna live happily ever after Allura?”
Hunk asked her. “Yes, my dear friend. Yes indeed.” She nodded. “Wait…do I still
need to sleep in the cupboard?” he asked, making all his friends laugh as they
celebrated throughout the night. They could finally live the rest of their
lives as happily as they could. What about Y/N and Keith? Well, they both lived
happily ever after.
I mean, Joss literally restructured an entire season of the show to accommodate Charisma’s pregnancy, and she wasn’t written off until after she gave birth. Joss is no saint, but I’m tired of hearing this particular argument. Lots of characters we love get written off shows. It doesn’t have to be about a pregnancy.
oh dude dude dude, how I wish you hadn’t made this comment because now I HAVE to reply, and I’ll be annoying as fuck and I will lose a ton of followers but I MUST. REPLY. TO. THIS.
I’m not at all surprised that a white male is the one coming to Joss’s rescue, but I won’t get into that. I’m more interested in explaining why you’re so. fundamentally. wrong. about. everything.
Let’s start with this:
Lots of characters we love get written off shows. It doesn’t have to be about a pregnancy.
This is all fine and dandy, and I agree. It doesn’t have to be about a pregnancy. And I raise your bet. It shouldn’t be about a pregnancy. It mustn’t be about a pregnancy.
Except Joss Whedon actually wrote Cordelia off precisely because Charisma dared get pregnant and mess with his vision of the show. It’s not about the fact that Cordelia was written off, it’s about how her character was completely eviscerated and destroyed because Joss suddenly had a personal vendetta against the actress playing the character solely based on the fact that whatever she wanted to do with her body and personal life happened to ruin his plans for the character.
This wasn’t a writing choice. This wasn’t part of Cordelia’s arc before Charisma got pregnant. I could totally get it if that was the case. Cordelia was put in a coma (and later killed off) because Charisma got pregnant. I repeat: this wasn’t Cordelia’s original arc. She wasn’t supposed to die. Her pregnancy was the reason she was killed off.
“Oh, but… I mean, Joss literally restructured an entire season of the show to accommodate Charisma’s pregnancy “
So what? Should we give him an award because he was writing his show a.k.a. doing his job? A job he was getting paid for? Should we praise him because he didn’t fire Charisma on the spot? Should we congratulate him because he accommodated Charisma’s pregnancy, something that every boss in every workplace is legally bound to do?
Women get pregnant. Actresses get pregnant. That literally happens all the time. Writers have to either write the pregnancy into the show or hide it. It happens all the time. Everyone does it. It’s not something unheard of! Writers deal because that’s their freaking job. That’s what they do!
Now, Joss could’ve chosen to hide Charisma’s pregnancy. There literally was no reason for him to write the pregnancy into the show. And there certainly was no reason for him to write the pregnancy into the show the way he did. That was a deliberate choice on his part because he was trying to get back at Charisma.
“Oh but… she wasn’t written off until after she gave birth. “
How does this make what he did any better? Of course he wasn’t about to fire a pregnant actress because then his intentions would’ve been blatantly obvious and she could’ve sued him and the network. Oh, I’m sure he tried, though. I’m sure someone stopped him. So for you, it’s okay if a woman is fired from her job after she gives birth… that makes it all okay, somehow?
I’ll humor you for a bit. Let’s say that this was all part of Cordelia’s arc and it all just happened to coincide with her pregnancy/giving birth to her baby. Then how do you explain her finding out about getting written off the show through the media? Yes, you read that right. She found out she was unemployed because journalists asked her about her leaving the show she still thought she was a part of. Please, defend this. I’m begging you. Try and defend it.
Joss is no saint, but I’m tired of hearing this particular argument.
Listen up, I’m mostly on the fence about Joss Whedon, on a general basis. I do feel that sometimes the amount of hate he gets is a bit over the top, albeit not completely unjustified. BUT I WILL FOREVER FIGHT ANYONE ABOUT HOW HE TREATED CHARISMA BECAUSE SHE GOT PREGNANT.
Because, you know, (and I know, I’m getting repetitive) it wasn’t just about the fact that she was written off the show. Charisma has spoken multiple times about how she was badly treated on set during season 4. From little things like the AWFUL AWFUL wardrobe they gave her during that season, to bigger things like how they made it their goal to destroy seven seasons of character development by turning her into a demon’s vessel and have us witness our beloved character doing despicable things ranging from murder to sleeping with Angel’s son, all because… yes, you guessed it, SHE GOT PREGNANT.
It’s also about the fact that after she was treated like shit, and he wanted her to come back to the show for one episode during season 5, he convinced her under false pretenses. She accepted to be in You’re Welcome ONLY if Cordelia wasn’t killed off. Well, you know the rest, don’t you?
So, I’m 100% not sorry if you’re tired of hearing about this. I don't’ give a rat’s ass if you or anyone else is tired of hearing this. I will continue to shout it every I chance I get. because the bottom line is, everything that was done to Charisma and Cordelia was
the i'm not jealous of that rabbit or something like that drabble :)
🐰 → ❝I’m not jealous of a rabbit. I just think it’s funny how—❞
COUNT → 871
GENRE → fluff
PAIRING → jungkook | reader
WARNINGS → boob groping | explicit language
“Noori,” you began with a sigh, “why is there a rabbit on my bed?”
From her spot beside your bed, she rubbed her hand from the top of its head down its back, its ears twitching in delight. You gave a small smile at that. It was a little cute—you could admit that much—but there were strict rules in your dorm that there were no pets of any kind at all. And a rabbit was no exception.
“I found it outside the dumpster and I just couldn’t leave it there,” she answered with a frown, continuing to pet the gray rabbit.
“But what if it had a family? What if you took it away from its family?”
She paused, then looked up at you, horrified.
“I’m sure it’s fine!” you exclaimed, raising your hands to reassure her. “It’s here now, so there’s not much we can do about it.”
Slowly, you approached her and the rabbit, lowering yourself until you sat on your heels beside Noori. It didn’t seem to mind your presence all that much. It was so calm and chill for a rabbit. You hadn’t even owned a pet rabbit yourself or even met a person with a pet rabbit, but it seemed relaxed and at peace.
“It’s so cute…” you whispered, afraid to speak too loudly to scare it away.
Although, where would it even fucking go? Under your bed? Out the door the second you two left? Maybe it would find its family and that would be the end of that. Noori, however, seemed to already be very attached to it.
“Isn’t it? Can we keep it? I want to name it Leonar—”
Suddenly, your door swung open and the rabbit jumped, surprised. Noori quickly reacted and hugged it to her chest just as you glared at Jungkook over your shoulder. How did you know it was him before you even saw him? Let’s just say he had a certain smell—like moldy underpants and a cat’s farts.
“What the fuck? Is that a—”
“Shh!” the two of you said at the same time, then looked back at the rabbit.
As it seemed to calm down, Noori set it back on the bed, grabbing a nearby blanket and continuing to pet it. You stood up, slowly walking towards Jungkook until you were standing in your doorway.
“What do you want?”
“I’m great. What a nice thing for you to ask me.”
You ran your tongue over the front of your teeth. “Really. What do you want?”
“I just came to stop by your little cave to let you know my parents are coming tomorrow and they wanted to invite you with for some fucking reason.”
“You see, Jungkook… There are these things called phones. You have my number. Therefore, it is unnecessary for me to have to see your face in person.”
“But why would I do that when you’re such a joy to be around?”
You ground your teeth as he brushed past you, situating himself next to Noori. The rabbit immediately backed away from him, though, and he pulled back.
“Looks like somebody doesn’t like you,” you said with a grin. “I can relate.”
He rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder at you before reaching out to touch the rabbit again. However, it only seemed to further back itself into a wall. With a bounce in your step, you situated yourself next to Noori and shoved his hand out of the way, gesturing for the rabbit to come towards you instead.
Surprisingly, it did.
Noori looked at you with a bright smile as it climbed into your arms. You reached down to scratch at its head, not sure how a rabbit liked to be pet. When you leant forward, your low-cut tank top must’ve given it an invitation to climb inside because the next thing you knew there was a rabbit on your boobs.
You took that moment to glance at Jungkook, his jaw hanging open. He couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the rabbit in your shirt and stood up. When he did, the rabbit quickly climbed out and huddled near the wall again. Glaring at Jungkook, your stare deepened when he suddenly grabbed your hand and dragged you out of your room, shutting the door behind you.
“What? What’s wrong?”
He didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw.
“Are you…” You paused, trying not to smirk. “Are you jealous of a rabbit?”
“I’m not jealous of a rabbit,” he immediately said back. When he went to scratch at the back of his neck—the tell-tale sign that he was lying—he continued, “I just think it’s funny how—”
“Aha!” you shouted, smiling. “Jungkook, it’s a fucking rabbit.”
“Yeah but you never let me touch your boobs like that.”
“You have never asked to touch my boobs.”
“Can I touch your boobs?”
However, Jungkook being Jungkook, touched them anyway. You had to slap his hand away just as one of his hands travelled underneath your shirt to move one of your bra cups out of the way and squeeze.
There aren’t a lot of places in this god forsaken castle that you can be alone.
Actually, that’s incorrect.
There aren’t a lot of places in this god forsaken castle that you can truly be alone. Down every corridor, in every classroom, in the library, the bathrooms, the dormitories, there is someone- or something- waiting to interrupt them. In even the darkest, least frequented hallways there are ghosts roaming around, looking to cure their paranormal loneliness with a conversation, or a painting of some old wizard who, despite his intense denial of the fact, comes across a little bigoted.
And Maggie is all too aware of this fact. She’s all too aware because for three and a half months, her and Alex have only managed to slip hands under t-shirts before some first year, or some ghost, or some pestering painting alarms the crap out of them with an out of the blue reprimand. And seriously, getting scolded by the portrait of an ex-potions teacher from the 1400s with a frightening resemblance to Maggie’s homophobic great aunt is a real mood killer.
I’ve been working on this for awhile! It’s Hagrid’s hut in Ghibli style. I’ve wanted to work in/study this style for quite some time and I finally got the opportunity. I really hope I get to continue practicing!
Shout out to my husband @jamesdaviscourt for helping me with this every night and keeping me sane most of the time.
Also to @egilthompsonart for letting me use his amazing Ghibli art book! He also painted a fantastic scene in this style!
So this is dedicated to that one anon that kept requesting a happy part 3 all in capitals to Just Once :)
“God I’m so not okay,” I whisper to myself as I turn away, finally letting the first tear fall. That was the second biggest mistake I’ve made in my life, letting him walk away from me. The first was not fighting for him.
The constant knocking on the front door took my aĝttention away from the TV. Standing up I walk down the hall to where the knocking still continues.
“Coming,” I shout. Sammy was out doing the grocery shopping so I presumed it was just her returning and she forgot to bring her key up with her. When I swing the door open however, instead of seeing the sight of my blonde best friend, I’m met with the sight of my brunette ex.
“Shawn,” I whisper, moving to quickly shut the door, slamming it shut, pressing my back against it. I didn’t want to hear his I hope you’re happy because I am speech.
“Y/n, please, open the door. I just want to talk,” He asks, his voice raspy.
“I don’t think Jess would be happy with you visiting you ex girlfriend,” I say, the worlds tasting bitter on my tongue.
“Dammit Y/n, Fuck Jessica. The guys set me up with her because all I had been doing since you broke up with me was hibernating on the stupid couch. Now please, will you let me in?”
I pause before opening the door meeting Shawn’s weary eyes. His arm rests on the door frame, the same olive shirt as last night clinging to his upper body. We stare at each for a moment, both us not knowing where to start.
I clear my throat before saying “Do you want to come in? Sammy’s out shopping, she won’t be back for a while so..” I trail off, moving to the side to let him in. He walks past, his arm gently brushing mine that leaves a trail of sparks in its wake.
I turn away to close the door but as soon as its shut I’m shoved against the door, chest pressed against Shawn’s.
“God I missed you,” Shawn murmurs, his nose trailing along my neck, his hair tickling my cheek. Both his hand hold my arms tight against the wood of the door.
“Shawn,” I try to say but it comes out in a whisper. He lets my hands go, instead finding their way to hold my face as his lips press against mine hastily as if there was not enough time.
Without thinking my hands find his hair, putting in as much effort to this kiss as he was. I missed this, I missed him. It felt as if nothing had happened and it was just Shawn and I as we were before.
“I”m so sorry, baby,” Shawn whispers pulling away. I meet his eyes, filled with sorrow and regret. “So sorry,” He says again, tone soft as if to not scare me away.
“I freaking hate you for making me feel this way,” I say, shoving him of me to just push him against the wall opposite the door, pressing my lips to his again. “I missed you too,” I say pulling away for a second before kissing his jaw.
“I’m so sorry I forgot your graduation, I swear I though it was the 12th not the 11th,” He says, breaths labored from my lips against his neck.
“I was just pissed that you always seemed to miss the important events in my life,”
“I know… I know,” He says arms resting around waist, hands rubbing my hips through my shirt. “I realized that after you broke up with me that I had been too focused on work. Before you there only was work,” His hand reaches up to brush a piece of hair behind my ear.
“These past 3 weeks were the worst of my life,” His nose brushed against mine. “I didn’t want to go out unless you were with me. I didn’t want to write, shit I didn’t even want to play the guitar. I need you and if you give me one more chance, I swear, every day from here on, I will be devoted to our relationship and making sure that whatever you have planned will come first, any event. Even if it was you going to have a shower, I’ll be there,” he says determinedly, making me giggle. “You first, work second.” He kisses me quickly.
“I’m sorry I was so harsh on you,” I whisper, my hand brushing his cheek softly. “Breaking up was the worst for me too. Seeing you with Jess, that hurt a lot. Made me realise what a fool I was for not trying to make our relationship work,”
“So what do you say? Want to try and fix us?” Shawn asks looking hopeful.
“Pretty sure its achievable,” I say, a slight smirk on my face.
“Yes!” Shawn says, making me laugh. “Gosh I love you,” he says kissing me again.
“Wait, wait, can we take this slow? I want to make sure that we don’t make the same mistakes as last time,” I say hesitantly.
“Does that mean no more I love you’s?” He says frowning.
“I..” I trail off. He grins at me, leaning in till his lips are pressed against my ear.
“I love you,” he whispers, breath tickling my neck.
“I love you’s work,” I say quickly, breath catching in my throat. Shawn laughs.
“Want to go watch some TV?” Shawn asks grabbing my hand and pulling me to the lounge room. “We can hibernate on the couch together,”
Riley practically runs home after her encounter with Lucas at the library. Why did Lucas have to say that? She wasn’t imagining things, he was hinting at a romantic mistake. Why now? Why did he have to say that? Riley is thankful that her parents took Auggie to Philadelphia for the weekend, that meant she had the apartment to herself to just implode, because that’s how she felt in the moment.
Riley throws her backpack on the sofa and stomps upstairs. Riley paces around her room, her breathing is shallow. The brunette rips off her coat and throws it to the side. Riley stops dead in her tracks, determined to not let this shake her. She was past this, she was past Lucas. Riley clenches her eyes shut and does her very best to focus on her breathing. She inhales, holds it as long as she could and exhales loudly. Riley repeats this a few times until the sick feeling in her stomach subsides and her breathing regulates. Riley opens her eyes and takes a seat at the end of her bed.
I'm sorry if this question is triggering or anything, but I was wondering in what ways an autistic child could be bullied and manipulated by their parents or other important adults using their autism as a centre focus? For example, a young child with sensory issues that prevents him from tolerating liquids on his skin being forced kicking and screaming into the shower (the parents know that he doesn't like water) etc?
Hoo boy, this is a very personal subject for me. I grew up in an abusive family, and I have lots and lots of personal experiences I can share as examples. Obviously this is not even close to an exhaustive list, just some examples from my personal experiences.
Do be aware that this post will contain descriptions of emotional/verbal abuse and some physical abuse. If anyone is uncomfortable with this topic, feel free to skip the rest of the post.
First off, let’s take a moment and look at why autistic children get abused. In some cases, a parent would be abusive regardless of whether the child is autistic or not. In such cases, the parent has their own psychological issues that influence them. If you’re writing this type of abusive parent, it’s a good idea to delve into their backstory a little bit and decide what their reason is for being this way. Portraying them as “evil” without a reason isn’t accurate and can even be harmful for real-life victims of abuse whose situations are not so clearly black and white. There are many possible reasons someone might be abusive, including having been a victim of abuse in the past and certain psychological disorders which can cause some people to act abusively, such as narcissistic personality disorder - but this blog isn’t about those topics. If you are looking for resources for writing such characters, we recommend paying a visit to @scriptsocialwork and/or @scriptshrink.
Another type of abusive parent is abusive specifically because their child is autistic. They may not realize the child is autistic. They may believe the child’s behavior is due to environmental factors, or that the child is willfully difficult. They may think they can make their child less sensitive or more social - more “normal” - by forcing them to “face” the things that upset them. They might feel like a victim who has been cursed with a difficult child and lash out at that child, or they might feel they need to be a superparent who cures their child of their difficulties by force. They may believe they are doing the right thing with this abusive behavior. They may also be responding to pressure from teachers or other parents who think that the child’s “problems” are the result of the parenting style and push them to be stricter, etc. They may be praised by others for this abuse of their child. And then there is “therapy” where autistic people are abused by “experts” who think their autism can be cured.
It’s important to note that abuse does not have to be intentional. If the abuser doesn’t realize what they’re doing is wrong, or isn’t intending to hurt the victim, that doesn’t make it not abuse.
That said, let’s look at some specific ways autistic children can be abused by their parents. Sadly, these examples are far from rare, and in most cases, the parents even believe they are doing the right thing by hurting their child in this way. As a side note, while we like to push for positive representation of autistic people, this is a subject which is not often addressed, and having an autistic child living through abuse in a story could be a very helpful thing for the world to see and learn to understand, so that changes can be made.
All types of physical abuse that can be used on allistic children can be used on autistic children as well. If the child is particularly sensitive, the abuse can be even more harmful. This includes all types of hitting, spanking, and other physical attacks on the child. All of these methods have been proven to be detrimental to the mental health of a person as they grow up, and children who are physically abused (even just spanking) have been shown to have greater psychological problems later in life.
In addition to these “classic” methods of physical punishment, anything that involves the autistic person’s particular sensitivities can be abusive as well. The example given in the ask of a child being forced screaming into a shower is a good one. From my experience, I can also add:
Being forced to go swimming despite sensory issues with still water on the skin. I was forced to take swimming lessons at a summer camp despite the water on my skin causing me to panic, and was consistently reprimanded for “refusing” to pass the tests at the end of each level and remaining in shallow water at all times.
I was also once, as a teenager, picked up and thrown into a natural pond by my father’s girlfriend. Everyone else was going swimming on this hot summer’s day, but I didn’t want to because, in addition to not liking swimming, I was having my period. I didn’t want to communicate that in front of everyone, so I tried politely declining. My father’s girlfriend, who was “fed up” with me refusing to participate in group activities, physically picked me up, fully clothed, and threw me screaming into the pond. Everything fell out of my pockets and sunk to the bottom, and the pad in my underwear was soaked through. I ran sobbing into the house while my dad’s girlfriend continued to shout after me that I was being ridiculous and rude to everyone.
Once, as a “punishment” for not taking part in a social activity (I was overloaded and went off on my own to read for a while in a quiet spot), my bed was sabotaged by my father and sisters. Everything metal in the room, including a set of metal dumbells and a guitar stand, was hidden underneath the blankets and pillow of my bed. When I jumped into bed (as I always did, onto my knees, something everyone in the family was aware of), I landed on metal. I hurt my knees quite badly, but was ignored when I asked for help. Afterwards, when I was limping for a few days, I was yelled at for “making a scene” and “trying to get attention”. (I still have issues with my knees.) After removing the objects from under the blanket, I threw myself down on the pillow, not realizing something was under that, too, and got quite a lump on my head.
I was once forced to eat food the taste and texture of which made me gag. My dad’s girlfriend had cooked a sort of strange pizza with unusual ingredients, and I couldn’t choke it down despite being desperately hungry. I tried to get up from the table and was shouted at, told that it was extremely rude to refuse to eat someone’s cooking, and that I was not to get up until my plate was clean. Everyone else quietly ate, finished, got up. My sisters went to play. My dad and his girlfriend went off to do whatever they did. I sat at the table crying for two hours, feeling bruised from the hard wooden chair, my stomach aching with hunger, but unable to eat the food. Eventually my father relented and allowed me to simply go to bed without eating rather than force-feeding me the “pizza”.
My mother and grandmother were obsessed with making me “ladylike” (I was widely regarded as a tomboy). Throughout my childhood, I was forced to wear my hair up in braids and ponytails, tightly pulled together with elastics or scrunchies. My scalp was particularly sensitive, and I could feel every hair being pulled out. I cried all the time and begged to be allowed to let my hair down, but was refused. My grandmother frequently insisted that “beauty hurts sometimes” and my mother told everyone that I was known to “make up” aches and pains for no real reason other than to get attention, encouraging everyone to ignore my tears. As soon as I was out of sight, I would always let my hair down. My scalp would hurt for hours afterwards, and then I had to endure being screamed at when I was found out.
Physical abuse can also involve meltdowns, which are often mistaken for tantrums by parents, and shutdowns, which are often mistaken for refusal to speak (the “silent treatment”).
I remember having a meltdown at the end of a camping trip with my dad, his girlfriend, and my sisters. The overload of an entire week without any time alone, sleeping on a hard surface, constantly bit by mosquitoes, eating food I didn’t like, and other sensory nightmares of the forest, had taken too much of a toll and I finally couldn’t stand it anymore. When I was ordered to help clean and pack the tent, my brain went SNAP and a meltdown started. All I remember is feeling a need to escape, to be somewhere quiet. I tried to run, and I was chased by an angry father and his girlfriend. I tried to hide in the backseat of the car, which was the only suitable hiding space I could find, and was grabbed by the ankles and ripped out of the car. They were screaming at me to calm down, holding onto my arms and legs with a much-too-strong grip while I thrashed around, unable to control my body, sobbing my eyes out. I was “in trouble” for weeks after that for “throwing a tantrum” instead of helping out like the others.
During shutdowns, when I typically go nonverbal and am unable to speak, I have frequently been grabbed, shaken, pushed, etc. as attempts to force me to speak while I “rudely” “refuse” to communicate.
These are just a few of the many examples of physical abuse from my childhood. There were also plenty of unpleasant situations that weren’t abuse - for example, when I had to put my shoes on quickly because we were late for something important, but I didn’t have time to straighten the seams on my socks, and my feet hurt all day as a result. I don’t really blame my parents for things like that. But when a child makes it clear that something is painful or very unpleasant for them, there is no reason to force them to endure it, and the parents insist on forcing them anyway, or use sensory overload or other such things as “punishments” for autistic behavior / failing to act allistic enough, then it is abuse.
Emotional and Verbal Abuse
Even more common is verbal and emotional abuse. All physical abuse is also emotional abuse, but there are many types of verbal/emotional abuse that often go unrecognized because so many people think of abuse as a physical thing. Emotional abuse of autistic people is very common, as many of our traits and behaviors are seen as “deviant” in some way, and it is a common cultural idea that deviant behavior, regardless of whether it hurts anyone, should be corrected or even punished. There are also many parents who feel entitled to a “normal” child and will blame an autistic child for making their lives more difficult. Then there are, as always, some parents who will be abusive regardless of what type of brain the child has.
While most of my physical abuse was at the hands of my father, his girlfriend, and my sisters, my mother was a neverending specter of verbal and emotional abuse. I should note that my mother has her own psychological issues and was equally abusive towards my allistic sisters, though they were far better equipped to deal with it than I was. Here are some real-life examples from my childhood.
It was made clear to me from a very young age that what I felt and what I wanted was not important, especially if what I wanted was different from the majority. If my mother wanted something and we didn’t give it to her / do it for her, we were being selfish. If we wanted something, we were being selfish. This was done both to my sisters and to me, but my sisters had the support of friends and teachers at school, who reassured them that it is normal to put yourself first sometimes and that it was not acceptable for a parent to treat their child this way. I did not have any friends and I didn’t know how to communicate my problems to my teachers (or even that I had a right to), so I had no support, and slowly developed a complex of believing I was a bad and selfish person. This led to a series of further abusive relationships later in my life, as I felt I had no right to refuse someone’s demands or stand up for myself. This was made worse by hyperempathy - whenever I felt I might have upset someone, hurt their feelings, or done anything they might find unpleasant, I suffered terribly, so controlling me was always as easy as warning me I would upset someone if I didn’t do exactly as I was told.
I always did my best to follow all rules and instructions exactly as they were explained to me, but often misunderstood because I didn’t catch the tone or implications of something. I was screamed at on a nearly daily basis for “refusing” to follow “simple directions”. I was constantly confused, constantly trying to do exactly what I was told, never understanding what I had done wrong. I learned not to trust my own instincts and to think of myself as inferior, stupid, lazy. There was a period of time I considered committing suicide in order to rid the world of my hideous presence, but (fortunately) I could never work up the nerve to do it because I didn’t actually want to die.
My sisters and I were all sent to a therapist after my parents’ divorce (when I was 5). I continued to see a therapist or counselor for many years after that, usually through the public school system. My mother frequently attended part of the sessions with me. Frequently, she would contradict me immediately after I spoke (or even interrupt) by claiming something was untrue, that I had made it up, that I had a history of doing that. You might think the therapists would believe their patient over their patient’s mother, but most of the time, they believed her. I was awkward and communicated strangely. I didn’t make eye contact, which they took as a sign that I was being dishonest. And my mother was good at playing the “loving and patient mother” around other people. She actively prevented me from being diagnosed with anything until I was 18, prevented me from getting any actual help, and prevented me from getting any accommodations, because she claimed I was being lazy and entitled.
She did the same thing with medical doctors. When I, at age 12, tried to talk to my pediatrician about sleep issues, she butted in and claimed that I slept fine (despite the fact I slept very little and was constantly tired). She did the same when I tried to talk to the doctor about depression and prevented the doctor from recommending a psychiatrist. When I was given medication (such as an asthma inhaler), she took it away and prevented me from using it. She claimed I was simply “being too sensitive” and needed to “toughen up” rather than relying on extra help, or, that old classic, that I was making it up for attention or “just being dramatic”.
Due to hyperempathy, I took the deaths of pets very badly. Having to look at or touch a dead animal could cause shutdowns, meltdowns, or panic attacks, as I automatically imagined how it would feel to be dead and was unable to handle the thought. My mother forced me to hold dead pets and bury them myself, then insisted I get another one. She always made me chose animals with short lifespans so that I would have to face death repeatedly (this is by her own admission, as she proudly explained to me a few years ago - she thought she could make me stronger by forcing me to face death regularly).
When I was exhausted or overloaded, I was regularly forced into difficult situations, like going to a crowded shopping center or a party. I was not allowed to spend time alone. When I inevitably had a meltdown as a result, I was screamed at and punished for “throwing a tantrum” and embarrassing her in front of other people.
Again, this is a short list of examples from an entire childhood living with an abusive family. I could write a whole book about this, but this should be enough to get you started.
I am fortunate enough that I was never subjected to ABA therapy, and I was almost always verbal, so I never had to experience certain types of abuse firsthand (and can’t offer personal experiences as examples). We will have a post on ABA therapy soon where you can find more information.
If you decide to write a story with an autistic character who is abused, please do so with care. Rather than relying solely on the examples I’ve given, try looking for other sources. Please find at least one or two beta readers who are autistic and grew up in abusive households (sadly, they’re not that hard to find) so you can be absolutely sure you represent the experience fairly and accurately. All too often, it is seen as socially acceptable to abuse autistic children, because it is not seen as abuse: it is seen as a parent trying to teach a difficult child how to be normal. It does not work that way, and it causes a lifetime of psychological issues and trauma. Stories that show how wrong this is can be a big help in showing the general public that this behavior is not okay, does not work, and should be stopped.
And please, whenever you’re writing about topics like this, be sure to include content warnings somewhere.
A/N: This is part of @katnharper ‘s 500 follower celebration challenge. My prompt was “Don’t backsass me” & I chose it to be a Dean-centric fic. This started off so funny then I made it a bummer…sorry, kinda not sorry? I kinda love this so I might decide to continue it if you guys like it.
You read while sitting on your favorite spot on the couch at Bobby’s house. Your mom had gone on another hunt, leaving you at Bobby’s until she wrapped up the hunt. You had already been there for a few days when Sam and Dean showed up. This wasn’t the first time you’d met the Winchesters; they’d stop by previous times that you were staying at Bobby’s. You generally liked the Winchester’s, Sam was nice and always made an effort to talk to you and Dean always ensured that there was good junk food around when he stayed there. However this time around Dean was making you mad.
He kept calling you kid and talking down to you; acting as if you didn’t know anything because you were young. He was underestimating you, something that drove you crazy.
Sam picked up on this quickly and tried to defuse the situation whenever it arose but you knew you were close to snapping. You tried to be nice, “Always respect your elder’s” is something that your mom had implanted in your brain; but if Dean kept it up he’d be seeing your ten year old mean side.
Those four words are all that came to your head any time that Chuck would bring up the supernatural books that were written about yours and the boys lives. They had your mistakes in there, all the times you had let people down, embarrassing things you had done, your death, the boys deaths, all your sexual encounters. They just had everything documented about your life and you hated it.
So when Chuck had asked you all to attend the supernatural book convention because he believed there was some kind of monster there, you were quick to deny his request. The boys, however, thought maybe it would be useful to just check it out.