pure woman and man

what makes me so emotional about steve’s sacrifice isn’t just because he was a selfless hero or that he had to say goodbye to diana too soon but really because he ultimately showed diana that her mission was worth completing. she was about ready to give up and believe in ares and that these lowly humans dont deserve to be saved or served by a wonder woman, and then this pure kind man comes in and shows them that humans can deserve it.
i like to think that they restored their faith in humanity in each other and it’s just this otp makes me (ノД`)

The Meeting (Malec Fanfic)

Magnus Bane was early for his important meeting, and by early he meant five minutes early. This left him the perfect amount of time for a cup of coffee before the long, tedious warlock gathering he had to attend. Usually he enjoyed attending a warlock council but not today, he wasn’t in the mood. He hasn’t seen Alexander in almost three days as he was being buried alive in paperwork from the clave during the day and then his night patrols. Magnus himself had been hectically busy, just last night he had delivered twelve various viles and bottles of potions around the country, it seemed like everyone and their mother needed his help this week. Magnus poured his coffee into his favourite mug and took a sip, he concentrated on the thought that in about six hours or so he should be free and he fully intended on portalling outside the institute and holding a boom box up outside Alec’s office window if he didn’t see him soon. He smiled at the thought and then jumped slightly from his thoughts when his wards trembled and Alec himself rushed through the door.

“Alexander!” Magnus beamed in surprise as his gorgeous, lanky Shadowhunter crossed the kitchen to him.

“Good.” Alec nodded seriously “I thought you might have left already.”

Before Magnus could even respond Alec had enveloped him. The kiss was searing and Magnus couldn’t help the pitiful moan that left his throat. He was caught off guard, his hands didn’t know what to do with themselves for a split second; when his body caught up with his brain he wrapped his arms tightly around his love. Alec had one hand secured around the back of his neck holding their kiss together.

When tedious things like needing air got in their way Alec pulled back and released him into a more gentle grasp.

“I thought I was going to be too late to see you.” Alec said as he tried to catch his breath.

Magnus was conflicted, right now he wanted nothing more than to take Alec to bed and show him how much he’d missed him but he really should be leaving…

“Missed you…” Magnus said as common sense lost and his mouth sought out Alec’s jaw.

Alec groaned and rolled their hips together. “Missed you more.”

Magnus tried to say ‘impossible’ but Alec attached his lips once more, he sucked hard on Magnus’ bottom lip and Magnus picked him up and set him on the counter top.
Parting their mouthes once more Magnus pressed a hand to Alec’s chest and pushed him flat out onto the counter top. He felt Alec’s legs wrap around his ass, his combat boots pinning him closer.

‘Magnus.’ Alec all but whimpered and the warlock pushed his black tee shirt up toward his rib cage. He ran his tongue from his chest right down to Alec’s dark happy trail, dipping it into his navel on the way.
His hands roughly unbuckled the strong belt on Alec’s jeans and he popped the button, ripping the zip open too. Alec wiggled under him and he yanked the jeans and boxers down ever so slightly, stopping at the base of Alec’s cock.
Magnus took a second to admire this Adonis, Alec’s tight muscles were flexing as he heaved his breath in and out. His head was thrown back exposing his long neck and that perfect deflect rune that Magnus loved to trace with his tongue. He was so happy, so in love and lust with this shadowhunter of his.
Getting back to the job at hand Magnus kissed his way from the happy trail down to that beautiful V of his hips. He dragged his lips up and down, gently inhaling that classic 'Alexander scent’ he couldn’t put his finger on what it was but it was pure sex. No man or woman ever had this effect on Magnus. He was obsessed with that Alec scent.
He has just began to mouth the bass of Alec’s cock when the younger man began to half heartedly object.
“Wait. Magnus, ugh. Wait” Alec groaned

“Hmm?” Magnus asked as he ran his nose back up towards Alec’s belly button.

“By the angel, I can’t believe I’m bringing this up…” Alec began

“Then don’t” Magnus smirked before he pressed a quick kiss to Alec’s flat stomach, he then straightened up and looked him in the eye

“- BUT…” Alec continued as he ran his hands down Magnus’ broad shoulders “… don’t you have the council meeting this morning?”

Dammit. Alec was right, and Magnus was pissed.
“I’m only a few minutes late.” He tried to reason “five minutes more… I’ll say there was a fire message.” He leaned in and tried to capture Alec’s lips again

“Do you really think I’ll be finished with you in five minutes?” Alec said quietly against Magnus’ lips and Magnus has a hard time remembering how to breathe.

“What are you trying to do to me Alexander Lightwood?” Magnus moaned putting their foreheads together.

Alec laughed a little “I’m trying to get you to go to your meeting so you can come home to me as soon as possible.”

“Fine.” Magnus said dramatically as he let go of Alec and stepped away. “I’ll go.”

Alec rolled his eyes before he hopped down from the counter, he picked up Magnus’ discarded mug of coffee and took a sip. “Ugh. Cold.” He shuddered

“Why are you drinking black coffee, darling?” Magnus asked as he put his coat on. “You need to sleep.”

“How do you expect me to sleep now?” Alec asked, raising one perfect eyebrow

“Sleep.” Magnus said as he gave him a chaste kiss, goodbye.

Alec nodded and threw himself down onto the couch. Magnus meant in bed but he was still happy to see Alec relax, even if it was just on his couch.

Magnus waved his arms and opened himself a portal.

“Hurry back to me.” Alec’s muffled voice came from under a cushion. He already sounded half asleep and Magnus smiled. “Love you.” It tailed off.

“I love you, Alexander.” Magnus said gently before he stepped into the portal. He wasn’t even sure Alec was awake enough to hear him; he smiled.

anonymous asked:

Why do you think Marston have the whole "wonder woman made from clay" angle in her origin that we've basically had ever since (ish)? Isn't "best of the best of secrect scifi hidden amazons" an exotic and exciting enough origin?

She is made from clay so that she is pure woman, without the taint of man-stink anywhere in her. Her parthenogenic origin means that she is pure, woman born of woman.

Why clay specifically rather than just, say, popping out of Hippolyta’s thigh, or head, or even just regular old virgin birth? Well, as I explained in this essay that I apparently wrote before I had read the huge pile of Golden Age Wonder Woman that I have since read, it ties her thematically to Pandora, the first woman.

(That link also reminds me I owe some people some essays. Sorry, y’all. Let’s see what I can do.)

anonymous asked:

hi! do you have any strong opinions or hcs about the dirk+jane friendship? i really like your dirk stuff and i love this relationship and it would really make my day to see some of your hcs or meta! (not as a couple tho thats ew)

I basically think that Dirk and Jane are the closest, purest platonic friendship in possibly the entire comic and I love them deeply?? The alphas feel closer to me than any other group, and the Dirk<->Jane relationship is the only one among them that isn’t tinged by either romantic interest/pining or repressed resentment. 

Like. Roxy and Jane, they are best friends, absolutely, but we know from canon that Roxy honestly and actually felt quite bad about Jane literally just not believing even the tiny bits of the reality of her situation that Roxy let slip (her “mom” being dead is the one she talks about) and felt awful about having to “lie” about living in post-apo future partially because Jane would never have believed them anyway. Like. There is a lot to unpack there. Add that to their weird thing with Jake, too – not competing over him, exactly, that’s the wrong word, just, Roxy constantly being frustrated about the situation and Jane just willfully refusing to see that, and blah blah. 

Jane and Jake’s relationship is obviously weird because of the way they dance around each other’s romantic inclinations and Jane sort of holds Jake on this pedestal as her Crush before she thinks of him as her Friend, and part of Jake’s relationship to Jane is having to always be vaguely receptive and live up to that view of him while not actually giving her an opening to make anything official. So that’s weird. They’re close but there’s a performative element to aspects of their relationship on both sides that’s hard to look past.

And of course, Dirk and Roxy have the one sided pining, the last people on earth baggage, the mutual guilt, they love each other more than anything in their own weird way and are so fucking close it hurts but that guilt and resentment between them is a wall covered in thorns and spikes and poison. 

And then Dirk and Jake, which is as far as I can tell and I’ve mentioned this before, a story about two boys who have loved each other for basically EVER, but Jake never let himself think about it that way until it was too late and he’d already given Dirk the impression that he COULDN’T and then the AR happened and everything got weird and difficult and frustrating fast. 

So Jane and Dirk. There is NONE of this there. Like maybe it is just me but I NEVER got the impression that Jane found Dirk romantically appealing, which means that Dirk doesn’t have that swirling self loathing about being unable to reciprocate like he does with Roxy. They are just two actual best friends who share a bunch of interests and enjoy talking to each other and respect each other’s opinions and capabilities, they’re just FRIENDS.

As a side note – I think it’s so cool that (what I think is) honestly the closest most purely platonic friendship in homestuck is between a man and a woman, because I see it so rarely, media creators rarely extend the self control to keep man/woman relationships platonic from all angles, even when they DO there’s often a sub-arc where one side or the other freaks out like BUT DO I LIKE THEM LIKE THEM OH NO or DO THEY LIKE ME LIKE ME OH NO and neither ever happens with Jane and Dirk. And I love it. So many of my personal platonic friendships throughout my life have been with men and I get so fucking tired of the overarching narrative that it’s impossible. Okay. Side note over. 

I loved Jane and Dirk’s conversation on the quest beds so fucking much. Like. I think there is still a lot more for them to work out, and Jane’s lingering resentment/jealousy over Dirk ending up with Jake after all is something they need to deal with – I think that conversation indicates they WILL deal with it though. They weren’t quite ready right then, they were still in the anger phase of everything (not at each other, but partially at Jake and partially Dirk’s own self loathing at work), but I think they will work it out and go back to being best friends. 

The only “negative” things I have to say about it is that they both mutually do not seem to “get” each other’s biggest flaws – but uh, none of the alphas really do and that’s part of why when they all get together in person everything gets shitty so fast – but I think they will get better about this, too, and the REASON they miss the mark at first is because they are both so anxious to think well of the other, they don’t let themselves look too hard at the bad stuff. I think they can reconstruct their friendship on earth C with a better understanding of one another and end up closer than they were before all the shit went down because of it. 

‘You say that it is important to have courage and sincerity. Therefore I will drop my fear and ask you the questions deepest and most honestly within me, and I hope you will answer.
How can there be any generalizations about the qualities of man and woman? We are each and every one of us fifty percent man and fifty percent woman, then we must each possess varying degrees of male or female characteristics not dependent entirely on if our physical bodies in this lifetime are born male or female.
I am female but I have always written poetry and I have never been so good at shopping lists. I am female but I have not been suspicious or jealous of man’s love affair with his art. In fact I have more often been in the role of choosing to be with my writing, than choosing to be in relationship leading to home and family. I am female but I feel my creativity and ideas come from strongly within me, and do not look to a man for them.
If I have been uncertain about my wholeness within, I have looked outside but never specifically to someone because of the sex they happen to be.
And I have loved women as well as men—not when no man was available to me, but because I was not looking at the outer illusion of this being man or woman, but feeling the essence of that person within.
I feel these generalizations reinforce our already strong preoccupation with the world of illusion and belief in the physical universe.
You can see you’ve made me angry, so I suppose you have begun to reach me.’

The first thing: generalizations are generalizations. They are not applicable to every single particular human being, that’s why they are called generalizations. The average man does not exist, you cannot find the average man anywhere. But the idea is good, it helps clarity. You cannot find, absolutely corresponding to the generalized idea, a single human being. Human beings come in all sizes and shapes and colours, they are unique. But still, generalization has its own point…

For example, only one single woman has asked the question—there are thousands of women here. Secondly, the very question shows me that Deborah must be very good at making shopping lists. And I am afraid about her poetry too. You can write a shopping list in poetry form. I would have to have a look at her poetry, only then can I say anything. My own experience is that out of a hundred poetries ninety-nine are shopping lists. It does not matter whether they are written by men or women. It is very rare to find poetry.
It is said of a great Zen master, Lin Chi… He had ten thousand monks, disciples, in his monastery. The king had come to see the monastery, he was very much impressed, and Lin Chi was taking him around. And the king asked, ‘How many disciples do you have?’ He said, ‘One in a hundred.’
A strange answer—one in a hundred? But that’s how it has always been. When you have a hundred disciples only one is really a disciple. Ninety-nine are just hangers-around.
Even a great poet, when he writes poetry, ninety-nine times writes only shopping lists. Only once in a while the poetry happens—all poetries are not poetic. And sometimes this too happens, that a shopping list may have great poetry. All shopping lists are not necessarily unpoetic.

But Deborah must belong to the new kind of woman that is arising in the world, the lib woman.
One thing has to be understood: the liberation movement that is going on in the world is a man-created phenomenon, a male-created phenomenon. You will be surprised about it, that it is again a male conspiracy. Now man wants to get rid of women. He wants to have no responsibility. He wants to enjoy women but only as fun; he does not want to take all the other responsibilities that come with it. Now, this is a subtle conspiracy: the man is trying to persuade women all over the world that the woman has to become independent. It is a subtle trick. And the male mind is cunning and the male mind is succeeding. And now many women have become poisoned by this idea.
Do you know? The first persons who started talking about equality between man and woman were men, not women. The first persons who started talking about it, that they should have equal freedom, were men, not women. The seed comes from the male mind. And it has always been so—whenever a man feels what is in his favour, he manages it. His cunning is very subtle. And sometimes he manages it in such a way that the woman thinks she is doing it on her own. In the past also it has been so.
Man has persuaded women in the past that they are pure beings, angels. Man is dirty, boys are boys—but the woman? She is divine. Man has put woman on a high pedestal; that was his trick to control woman. Man has worshipped, and through worship he has controlled. And naturally, when the woman was on the pedestal she thought that she was something divine—she could not do those things that men are doing, she could not, because that was going against her ego. That high pedestal was very ego-satisfying. She was the mother, she was divine; she had more divine qualities than man. Man is ugly, immoral, and all that. Man has to be forgiven for that. So man, down the ages, started remaining in his ways. And the woman was high. But this was a trick, the ego was persuaded. And once your ego is persuaded, you are caught. Then you cannot move from your position. To ask for equality will be a kind of fall—you will have to come down to become equal. It was a strategy, and the woman followed it. She remained pure, she remained virgin up to the marriage. It was not so for the man.
If the woman died, the man was allowed to marry again—because boys are boys, they cannot live without the woman. If the man died, the woman had to remain a widow for her whole life. Or, in this country particularly—which did this strategy to the very logical end—she had to commit suicide. She had to burn herself alive with the husband. And millions of women did it. How were they persuaded? And do you think they were forced? No, nobody was forcing them. There was no visible coercion, just a very deep seduction. By becoming SATIS, by going into the fire with the husband, their egos were fulfilled. Greatly fulfilled—people worshipped them. When they entered into the fire, thousands of people would gather together and sing songs in praise of the purity of woman. And if a woman did not go with the husband into the fire, did not commit suicide, she was condemned, utterly condemned. She was a bad woman. Just by trying to be alive, she was a bad woman. She was disrespected; she would fall immediately in the eyes of others, she would lose all respect. Her life would become a hell. She would be condemned everywhere, she would not be welcomed anywhere. She would be thought of as a bad omen. In no marriage would she be able to participate. If a child was born and people were celebrating, she would not be able to participate. She would not be allowed to decorate her body, to use beautiful clothes or ornaments or have long hair—no, she had to live in an ugliness, and condemned from everywhere. It was worse than death. So it was better to jump into the fire once and for all, and have the respect. And temples were raised in the memory of those women. And those women were thinking that they were doing it.
What I am making clear is that those women down the ages were thinking that they were doing it, on their own. And it was not so. Now again the same is happening, in the reverse order. In the West, man has persuaded women that ‘Now you have to be free, you have to be equal.’ Because now things have changed, times have changed—a man would like to enjoy more women than just his wife. Now he wants absolute freedom. And the only way to have absolute freedom is to give absolute freedom to the woman. And he has persuaded her again. And now the woman protesters and libbers, they are shouting with their whole heart for liberty and equality. And they don’t know they are again in the same grip: again man is persuading them. Now man wants to use them and throw them, with no responsibility attached to it. If you look deeply into the whole matter of it, you will be surprised. The male mind is a cunning mind. The woman is more innocent; she cannot be so strategic, so political, she has always believed the man. And you will be surprised: these lib women are again believing in the man! Nothing has changed. Now THIS is in favour of the man that you should be free and you should not ask for any commitment. He does not want to commit himself, he wants to have all freedom. He does not want to take the responsibility of your children. He does not want to live with you forever, he wants to change his woman every day. But now again he is creating beautiful words: ‘One should live in no commitment. One should live without involvement. One should not be possessive, one should not be jealous.’ Now again he is creating beautiful philosophy. He has done it before too—and then too women were deceived, and again they are going to be deceived.
Women trust. Trust is easy for them; love comes easier to them than logic. And they are very much concerned with the immediate. The man always thinks of strategies, tactics, what will happen, how it will happen—he thinks of the future, he plans for the future.

Now, Deborah repeats at least five times in this question: ‘I am a female’. Is there some worry? Is there some doubt? There must be. One thing has to be told to you: just by being in a female body one need not be a woman. Just by being in a male body one need not be a man. Man and woman are more states of the mind.
There are men who are psychologically not male but female, and there are women who are psychologically not women but men. These are the people who create many problems, because they cannot be heterosexual. Heterosexuality has no appeal for them, they have to be homosexuals or lesbians. Their psychology is different from their physiology; their biology and their psychology have a gap in them, unbridged. And there is going to remain a problem with them. In fact in a better world, in the future world—soon, I think by the end of this century—things will be easier. Because if a man is deep down psychologically feeling himself a woman, it is better to go through an operation and become biologically also a woman. Or if a woman is feeling deep down a male, it is better to go through an operation, plastic surgery, and become a man, so it can be bridged. Once this becomes possible, homosexuality and lesbianism will disappear from the world. Otherwise it cannot disappear, because it has a certain reason in it. The man looks a man from the outside; deep down he is not a man, he is a woman. His deeper woman wants a man—hence the homosexual.
And there is a third category also: confused people, who don’t know who they are. In the morning they are women, by the evening they are men. The difference is so small that they shrink; they become bisexuals. One moment they are loving a woman, another moment they are falling in love with a man. Their psychology and biology is in a state of mess; they will live a very confused life. Science can now help these people too, to make things clear.
Now, repeating again and again that ‘I am a female’ creates suspicion. Why so much concern about being a female? Once would have been enough. Even once was not needed—your question would have said that you are a female. And not an ordinary female, a libber.

Let me read the question: ‘You say that it is important to have courage and sincerity. Therefore I will drop my fear and ask you the questions deepest and most honestly within me…’ Now, what kind of questions are deepest and honest in you? Just think of the whole crap of it. These are the deepest questions? I am talking about Ikkyu and Buddha, and these are the deepest questions. And to ask these questions you needed great courage and sincerity!

‘How can there be any generalizations about the qualities of man and woman?’ Generalizations are not possible about ANYTHING, because no individual will fit them. But still, generalizations are meaningful; they simply indicate.
When I say a woman is more concerned with the immediate, I am not saying anything about a particular woman—Deborah, or anybody else. I am simply saying it about WOMANNESS, that womanness is concerned with the immediate. And if you are not concerned with the immediate then something somewhere in your womanhood is missing. That is very essential to femininity: the concern for the immediate, the imminent. But generalizations are generalizations, remember it. And there will be differences between individuals. But the meaning of a generalization is just to indicate a certain quality. It doesn’t say anything about particular individuals, it simply says the quality of being a woman is immediateness.
I would like to see Deborah’s poetry, because there is a possibility there may be that immediateness in the poetry itself. The poetry may be concerned with the imminent, the herenow; it may not be concerned with the ultimate. And the question also shows it—her whole concern is her womanhood. She says, ‘This is my deepest and the most honest question arising in me.’ Buddhahood, God, they are faraway questions. Her whole concern is with her body, her womanhood. It is not just an accident that women are standing before the mirror for hours. Their concern is immediate; they are more concerned with the body than with the soul. They are more materialistic than spiritualistic. They are more factual than fictitious.

‘I am a female but I have always written poetry and I have never been so good at shopping lists. I am female but I have not been suspicious or jealous of man’s love affair with his art. In fact, I have more often been in the role of choosing to be with my writing, than choosing to be in relationship leading to home and family.’

Now, these are complex things.
The atmosphere is such that a woman has to be equal with man. She has not to be interested in the home, family, children, motherhood. She has to become interested in poetry, in literature, in painting, in science, in technology, this and that. Now women’s groups gather together around the world to raise their consciousness. And all their consciousness-raising sessions consist of only one thing, that they have to destroy something deep in their womanhood. Only then can they compete with men. They are soft, naturally soft. They cannot compete with men. If they want to compete with men they will have to become hard. So whenever you come across a lib woman you can see the face loses softness. It is very difficult to say to a lib woman, ‘Baby’—very difficult. And she will be angry too, she will not like it. Why ‘Baby’?—she is equal to you. Hardness arises. All kinds of struggle give hardness.
And you may be trying not to be interested in the home, because if you become interested in the home then you cannot compete in the world. If you become interested in children you cannot compete in the world; then that becomes a distraction. And if you have to compete in the world and prove that you are as strong as men, you have to somehow become more like men. And this will be a loss. This is a loss—because the only hope for humanity is the softness of woman, not the hardness of man. We have suffered enough from the hardness of man. What is needed is that man should become more like woman, rather than woman becoming more like man.
Nietzsche is right when he says that Buddha and Christ were a little womanish. I agree. And this is how it should be—because Buddha is the hope. Men should become a little more womanish, more soft, more waterlike. But what is happening is very unfortunate, women are trying to become like men. Naturally, with whomsoever you compete, you try to become like that. If you are antagonistic against men, sooner or later you will become more like men.
Women are pulling against themselves, trying hard to manage. But that is not natural. The natural is the womb in the woman—that womb hankers for a child, that womb hankers for a home. The home is the visible womb outside the woman, it is a projection of the inner womb. Once a woman is no more interested in the home, she is no more interested in her womb. And that womb is there.
Men and women are NOT equal, because man is missing that womb. How can they be equal? I am not saying they are unequal, but I am certainly saying they are not equal. They are so different—how can they be equal? They are polar opposites. They are so different, they cannot be compared in terms of equality or inequality.
A woman is a woman, a man is a man. And they SHOULD remain man and woman. A woman should remain interested in the home, because once she stops being interested in the home she will stop being interested in the womb, in the child. And then naturally she turns into a lesbian. It is not accidental that libbers become lesbians. Because if you are not interested in the womb and not interested in the child, then for what to be interested in men? Then it is good to be interested in women. This is a very strange phenomenon that is happening in the world.
My own understanding is this, that man has to become a little more feminine. He has gone too far away in becoming a man, he has lost track of all humanity. Don’t follow him, don’t compete with him—otherwise you will be going on in the same rut, in the same routine. You will become warlike. And the libbers screaming and shouting and protesting on the streets are just ugly. They are showing the worst traits of the male mind.

And the last thing: ‘You can see you have made me angry, so I suppose you have begun to reach me.’ Now I must have made you even more angry. Fall in love with me!

—  Osho

The film is a passionate deconstruction of conservative myths about nationhood. At a critical point, the formerly hidebound Stephen cries out: “No, no! I am nothing pure! My race is mixed. My sex is mixed. I am woman and man, light with darkness, nothing pure! I am mud and flame!” Rather than hewing to a belief in tradition, continuity or stability, Rudkin champions hybridity and what Salman Rushdie would later term cultural “mongrelisation”. A while before it became fashionable for historians to talk about the inseparability of “nation and narration” or “the invention of tradition”, Rudkin was arguing that English Christianity was a violently imposed ideology. The family, heterosexuality, militarised manhood: all these pillars of patriotism take a tumble. 

What makes Penda’s Fen particularly prescient is that it locates these hybrid transformations in the English countryside. The 1970s saw a number of artists offering new versions of pastoral – Philip Trevelyan’s The Moon and the Sledgehammer (1971) was a creepy documentary about a family living without electricity in a wood; Richard Mabey’s The Unofficial Countryside (1973) introduced readers to what would later be known as edgelands; Jeremy Sandford’s Tomorrow’s People (1974) portrayed the Dionysian longings of free-festival revellers. Rudkin shows rural England to be a place of struggles and heresies, of antagonisms and anguish. The film even turns to etymology, arguing that “pagan”, which originally meant “belonging to the village”, referred to the politics of local governance as much as it did to theological doctrine.

Stephen, the film’s unsteady centre, is told: “Be secret. Child be strange, dark, true, impure, and dissonant. Cherish our flame.” For Rob Young, author of Electric Eden (2010), Penda’s Fen is part psychogeography, part toolkit for imaginative unshackling: “The pattern under the plough, the occult history of Albion – the British Dreamtime – lies waiting to be discovered by anyone with the right mental equipment.”

Sukhdev Sandhu

from Penda’s Fen: a lasting vision of heresy and pastoral horror

Girls - L.H.

Summary: Luke’s little sister is hiding a big secret and he’s determined to figure out what it is. (Classic overprotective brother Luke)

Pairing: Luke x Female Reader (Brother/Sister)

A/N: If you’re uncomfortable with gayness this isn’t for you ?


It was unexpected. Y/N was brought up believing relationships should be between a man and woman, molded into the pure good girl that the church wanted her to be. She couldn’t believe she was once so close-minded, unaware of what the world was holding for her if she just let herself go. Cherry chapstick kisses, soft skin and full lips that made her absolutely melt. Sneaking out of class to “go to the bathroom” when they would really hide out in the supply closets to sneak kisses. 

Y/N had a girlfriend, and she loved every second of it. Now that she thought about it, she saw this coming. This is what happens when her parents send her to an all-girls school where rules are so harshly inflicted on the students. Somebody is bound to push past those boundaries. Y/N is that somebody. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Omg, I love the love letter idea!! 1. Daisies and Lilies (general) 2. Jacob Frye 3. Anything up to PG-13 4. I'm anon-ing it up, so posting it is fine :) I'm so excited, thank you for offering to do this!! <3 <3

[Mawwwr, it is the least I can do for how delightful everyone has been. <3 Changing fandoms and dipping your toes into the writing and or art pool of it can be scary, so it’s a way to say thanks for being so amazing. ;w; <33

Flowers chosen:

LILY (GENERAL) - Majesty & Honor, Purity of Heart

DAISY - Innocence, Loyal Love, I’ll Never tell, Purity, Beauty]

Originally posted by mynamelessdream


To my dearest, (Y/N),

I am hoping this letter found its way to you safely. I left it where you’d find it most logically, but you do tend to have a rather interesting way about your mornings, I’ve noticed. Maybe the smell of the flowers caught your attention. A bloke can only hope.

Perhaps it is odd of me to say how I’ve been watching you…but can you blame me? Try as I might to get you closer to me, you always slip away from my fingertips like a desire that I am not worthy to have in my embrace. Every time you turn to look at me, the beauty that sparkles from your eyes render me helpless and, for once in my life, breathless. I can only imagine how much of a bloody fool I looked just standing there with my hand outstretched to try and meet yours when the crowds of London pushed you away from me. It was why I was trying to make my way through the mob to you as you hurried onwards to your next destination. I wasn’t trying to be a nuisance; God, I can only hope you don’t think of me as such.

To say you make me feel weak is demeaning to say how you spark joy in my life just by your presence alone. Your words, which ring in my mind every day, remind me of your innocents and pure heart—how you believe there is good in this world whereas I can only see the suffocating fog of it. Please, don’t think of me as perceiving you as naïve when I say this. If anything, I am the one that should have a better outlook on life. Maybe you will be the one to give it to me?

I’ve always been focused; like a horse with blinders on, I’ve stayed true to my missions and continued onwards with what had to be done. Should I tell you I am a killer? To say ‘assassin’, you would think of me as the devil, wouldn’t you? Please, don’t think ill of me. I do not kill for the fun of it, nor the glory, but in the honor of my heritage. I want to make London a better place, and, if anything, you give me the drive for it.

Should I tell you more of myself? Would you be interested? Perhaps next we meet I may, if you grant me the honor.

I can tell in your ways you are a pure woman—a woman untouched by a man of any sort, and that makes me all the hungrier to be the first to hold you, to love you, and to be the first to kiss you. My mind wanders as I say such things, but I will admit to pleasant things. I never thought I would embrace the idea of unfocused thoughts and a heart pounding against my chest like a horse’s hooves upon the streets of London. Perhaps, if you will allow it, I will explain more and show you more, but for now…my lips are sealed as I bring this letter to a close.

This is the most honest I’ve been with anybody. I try to keep my personal thoughts and feelings inward till they erupt, but you seem to bring it out of me like no other. Understand that I am not complaining: I am merely fascinated by these turn of events.

Will you allow me the pleasure to love you? I swear to it that I will be loyal and never mistreat such a precious thing as your heart. I nervously await your answer, (Y/N).

Forever yours,

Jacob Frye