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#she hates everything you are but she loves what you represent

beauty-4-thebeast · 20 hours

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To Ghoul or not to Ghoul?

We have yet to see in Fallout Season 2 whether Lucy develops feelings for the Ghoul or her first-love crush on Max evolves into true love. But there’s one thing we know for sure: by the end of Season 1 Lucy is already EVERYTHING to the Ghoul.

Hear me out.

First, what she did to him when she saved him at the Super Duper Mart. Obviously, she proved that she stood her moral ground much more firmly than he ever thought she could, reviving his faith in all things good and kind. But there's a second layer to what she did. Her exact words were:

She gave him hope. For him her words had the implication that no matter how ugly, damaged and rotting you look, you still can be a good person. There were hints throughout the story that Cooper had come to think of his appearance as inseparable from his moral character. When he said, "Ain't much stays clean here" he was talking about how people inevitably become wretched crooks there just as much as he was talking about the physical damage the Wasteland causes.

Second, when the Ghoul saw Lucy pointing a gun at her father, I'll bet you anything he instantly grasped the situation – that Lucy had been betrayed so horribly that she was now at the point of snapping. The Ghoul shot at Hank himself, not giving Lucy enough time to decide on anything (but most likely he knew she was going to lower her gun, you can see her about to do that).

When a few minutes later he turns his back at her and hears her cock her gun, he assumes there's no one else in the room who Lucy might want to kill. She didn't have the gut to kill her father, the most important person in her life, but the Ghoul is a different story. He's been treating her with nothing but unfairness and cruelty (as she sees it), and to her he represents everything she’s grown to hate about the Wastelands.

And instead of turning around and shooting the gun off her hand (we know he can, he has just wiped off a dozen of soldiers who were keeping him at gunpoint) he just holds his breath and waits for her decision. He wants to know whether her heart, the heart he's grown to admire, is shattered beyond repair. He puts his own existence at stake (he would have died had she shot off his head, there's no doubt about that). Let me say it outloud: at that moment Lucy is more important to him than finding his family!

It's like nothing is worth anything to him if Lucy breaks down and loses herself to hatred.

JUST WOW!!

#how am I not supposed to ship them?#because this is the most powerful dynamic I've seen in YEARS #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fallout meta #ghoulcy #lucy x cooper #lucy maclean #cooper howard #vaultghoul #fallout prime #fallout 2024

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ultrafangirlishness · 10 months

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The Barbie Movie.

A small, non-comprehensive list of things that stood out to me (spoilers? Kind of?)

The soundtrack

All the jokes that played off of what it was actually like to play with barbies (the pool & ocean being flat, the cups having no drinks in them, the shower having no water, etc.

TRANS BARBIE

The choreography

The "I Am Kenough" tie-dye sweater

Barbies of many shapes and sizes! All very beautiful!

THE ENDING, OH MA LORD. Both the way the story concluded really beautifully, but also the ending joke that no one was prepared for—

Just... everything about Ryan Gosling's performance

Kate McKinnon playing the deranged, "ugly" Barbie

In the same vein, that movie would NOT have been complete without representing the kids who played with their dolls "too hard" (cutting their hair, bending them in weird ways, etc.)

Acknowledging that Barbie did in fact mean a lot to some girls. This movie was geared towards everyone, whether you grew up loving Barbie or hating her.

The mom and her daughter

The fact that when Barbie was starting to become "defective" and/or when she was in the real world, you could start to see her ""flaws"". Like I noticed in some scenes her eyebrows were unplucked and no longer perfectly sculpted, or her skin no longer perfectly smooth with foundation.

It was clear that SO much thought and research was put into this. I couldn't believe how many references there were to specific clothing items, certain playsets, etc.

The fact that Barbie and Ken DIDN'T end up together, and that Barbie DIDN'T indulge Ken in his flirtations (is that a word?) even once

THE FACT THAT I WAS SO CLOSE TO ACTUAL TEARS LIKE SEVEN TIMES???? LIKE WHAT????

The weird dark humor coming out of nowhere

The fact that Barbie never once looked at the human women (who were "imperfect" in comparison to her) with disgust

......the moment between her and the woman on the bench 😭😭😭

The mom's rant about how hard it is being a woman (esp a mother) and how you can never win 🙌🙏

The misogyny in the Real World was so well done. It wasn't overexaggated or over the top it was just NORMAL EVERYDAY LIFE

THE JOKE ABOUT HAVING A MAN SIT YOU DOWN TO TALK ABOUT THE GODFATHER ASDJGKDLW

The moment where I went "OH so THAT'S where the mugshot memes came from"

Ruth Handler <3

The fact that everyone came to the theater dressed either in pink or Barbie-like attire :)

#barbie #barbie movie #barbie spoilers #spoilers #kind of? lol #non-spoiler #barbenheimer #the barbie movie #barbie meme #long post

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sflow-er · 10 months

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So many thoughts on the fabulous Barbie film, but especially on how anyone who thinks it’s “hateful towards men” clearly isn’t getting the message.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

[Credit for both gifs goes to their makers!!]

I mean... Ken’s arc is secondary to Barbie’s, and rightly so. This is her film, and her message deserves to be the main takeaway.

That being said, I just find it really sad that the people who could’ve definitely used the point of Ken’s arc just let it go right over their heads. Maybe it’s because they aren’t great at reading subtext, or because they just balk at anything presented as feminist, I don’t know.

Because to me, Ken’s arc is about as far from “hateful towards men” as you can get. It’s a multi-layered depiction of how restrictive, outdated views of masculinity can hold men back and make them susceptible to harmful ideologies that promise easy solutions for all their problems but only make those problems worse and hurt others around them.

The first layer is an allegory for real men don’t show their feelings. In the movie, this is represented by Ken’s need to look tough and cool all the time, and to keep his insecurities and sadness bottled up. Barbieland is a utopia where being happy is a social norm, and the main Barbie also starts to struggle with that. The difference is that she eventually tells her friends, and they all support her. Ken just puts pressure on himself not to look weak - in front of Barbie, or in front of the other Kens.

Which brings us to the second level: a competitive and inherently hostile view of the other Kens, aka. toxic male relationships. Some of them are friends, and all of them work together for a while to build the Patriarchy, but they don’t actually bond for real. Even their boys’ nights are mainly about getting back at the Barbies for all their girls’ nights (which really were about bonding). When push comes to shove, the Kens still see each other as competition, which is one of the reasons why the Barbies are able to play them against each other.

Another reason is the third layer: the idea that Ken only has value if Barbie loves and admires him. It starts out as unrequited love that makes you feel sorry for him...until he turns bitter. He basically starts on the path that could lead him down the incel/mra rabbit hole and into a mindset where Barbie owes him love and admiration and the relationship he wants in exchange for his devotion to her. He decides that everything would be better if Barbies were subservient to Kens, but of course that’s not true. None of the Barbies’ newfound admiration for their Kens is real, and his own Barbie still rejects him.

All this is of course underpinned by the final layer, which is Ken’s lack of self-respect and sense of purpose. He’s got a pointless job, he’s not particularly qualified for anything, and he just feels kind of lost in Barbieland - a society run by successful Barbies who are living up to their full potential. That’s why he gets so caught up in the idea of the Patriarchy, which is supposed to make him successful, get others to respect him, and give him a sense of purpose. (This can be generalised to all kinds of harmful ideologies in the real world, e.g. the alt-right movement.)

However, the success he achieves is superficial and not based on any real passion; he even admits that he wasn’t happy in his new position and already lost interest in the ideology. The (forced) respect of others does feel good for a while, but it only goes so far. At heart, the whole thing is still mostly about his feelings of inferiority and unrequited love for Barbie, and instituting this harmful new system did not resolve those for him.

So what does? In essence, breaking out of all these harmful patterns and internalising the idea that he is enough.

He ends up reflecting on his feelings, finally puts them to words (or rather, song and dance), and manages to connect with the other Kens through those feelings. He even cries in relief and acknowledges that it doesn’t make him weak. He and Barbie finally have a proper talk, he lets go of their (non-)relationship, and he listens when she says he needs to figure out his real self. He starts to see himself not through his job, his girlfriend, or even his competition with the other Kens, but as just Ken, who is enough.

I honestly can’t think of a less hateful message to send men and boys.

#barbie spoilers #barbie movie spoilers #barbie 2023 spoilers #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #barbie meta #greta gerwig #barbie #ken #and of course the perfect ken #ryan gosling #he is kenough

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pretty-little-mind33 · 8 months

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James Potter x muggle wife!reader

Summary: James wants to take you out to one of his families' fancy parties. However, he underestimates how cruel people can be when someone is different.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort / prequel - Enchanted

Warnings: swearing, insecurities, implied sexual relationship, mentions of having kids, cute banter 🥰

The candle shimmers in the room as you sit on the cushioned chair in front of your vanity. You admire your reflection in the dusty mirror and play with the silver pin in your hair. Usually, you love occasions where you can look your prettiest but, on this particular night, dread sits in your stomach.

You feel hands on your shoulders and your head leans back onto your nape as you look up. Your smile widens when you see his dark eyes and brown curls. His hair is slick with fancy gel and the smell of his citrus cologne allows your forming nerves to relax. "Hiya, lovie." He whispers hoarsely and kisses your nose as his hands slide down your arms. It sends goosebumps up your skin.

"Hi, James." You laugh quietly and sit normally.

He smiles at you in the mirror, "Y'ready?" He asks and your smile disappears. James's eyebrows crease and he lowers his head to sprinkle delicate kisses onto your neck and collarbone. You turn around carefully so you don't wrinkle the skin-fitted, satin, slip dress you're wearing and James's eyes follow your movement as you stand up next to him. He licks his lips cheekily, "Ravishing." He mutters.

You want to look unamused, but you smile wearily, "I'm nervous." You whisper.

"Whatever for?" James raises one eyebrow.

"They hate me." You reason and fiddle with his navy blue tie, "They hate everything I represent, Jamie. I'm filth to them."

James snorts and he wraps his arms around you. He kisses your temple, "It's a party. My party. You're my girl, no one will dare mess with you. You'll see my parents and my parents adore you, Y/n/n."

"I know. Of course I know that, but with Voldemort around and all this talk — " You start to mutter but James interrupts you with a sweet kiss. When he pulls away, he's looking into your eyes with a delicately serious expression. An expression so unlike him.

"No one can hurt you when I'm around," He promises. James is always so sure of himself. Some may call it overconfidence but for your sake, you can only pray this is one of the times where his confidence means he's right.

* * *

The Potter's ballroom is made out of expensive marble and lanterns, which drift in the air, illuminate the spacious room. Classical music plays as couples dance, women in elegant dresses drink their champagne in the corners, and older men converse with fancy cigarettes drooping from their wrinkled lips.

You can't help but feel out of place as you seem to be the only one who's enchanted by those lanterns and all the fancy named dishes on silver trays which look delicious and also weirdly disgusting.

James hasn't left your side all evening. Not when he meets up with his best friends, nor when his mother calls his name and wants to introduce him to someone. He guides you with him, his hand on the small of your back, and you smile at his mum, "Hello, Mrs. Potter." You say.

Euphemia Potter beams at you and leans in to kiss your cheeks. She looks down, "What a gorgeous dress, Y/n." She exclaims.

"It's an early anniversary present from James." Your cheeks become warm as you look down at your dress bashfully.

"Good boy." Euphemia chuckles and affectionately pats James's cheek. She turns to the woman next to her, "James, this is Matilda, Orianna's daughter. You remember her from your school years, yes?"

You and James look at Matilda at the same time. She's slim and bony. Her blonde hair is curled in ringlets around her shoulders and her perfume smells extremely expensive. You can't deny she's pretty and a new, uncomfortable, feeling forms in your chest.

Euphemia continues, "Matilda was asking how you were, Jamie, and I just couldn't resist bragging about my beautiful boy."

James nods, "I remember you from Potions our sixth year." He says with a polite smile and Matilda returns the smile with an ecstatic grin.

"Exactly! Oh, it's so nice to connect with you again!" She pauses and her sharp hazel eyes snap to you, "And who is this?" Matilda asks with fake sweetness.

"Y/n Potter." You reply tensely.

"Oh, so you're married." Matilda's smile falters.

"Last summer." James interrupts. He doesn't waste time outstretching his arm and wiggling his fingers as he shows Matilda his ring. It's a normal silver band but by James's excitement, he makes it seem like his ring is the rarest jewel he's ever owned.

If you asked him, it is.

"Isn't he all grown up?" Euphemia comments and Matilda stares at you as she nods absentmindedly, "Now, James, come help me choose a drink for your wife while she makes friends with Matilda," Euphemia says innocently. You turn to protest (you can easily choose your own drink) but his mother has already led James away.

You know Euphemia always means well. You don't have many friends in James's circle and she finds it important to introduce you to as many wizards and witches she knows.

You understand but, at the same time, you don't want to be alone with Matilda. She seemed like a sweet girl in front of James and his mum, but when she has you alone you suddenly feel like a lamb in a wolf's claws.

For good reason because she asks you, "So, I don't remember you from Hogwarts, Y/n? Were you a few years above us?" She fakes a smile.

Ouch, you think, you were two years younger than James.

"I didn't attend Hogwarts."

"Beauxbaton then?"

Hesitantly, you shake your head.

"Ilvermorny? Only, I don't hear an accent." Matilda frowns.

You feel a familiar fear sink in again. Should you have lied? The way Matilda's looking at you now makes you feel uneasy, "I-" You mutter and scan the room. You can't see James anywhere and your heart jumps in your chest at Matilda's next question.

"Are you a muggle?" She squints at you and then moves away a little, her eyes shimmering with disgust, "Oh my merlin, he's married to a muggle." She says and it's loud enough for a few other guests to turn their heads towards you.

You panic and mumble a quick, "Excuse me", as you walk away from her. You can't see your husband anywhere so you wander to the first person you recognize and touch his shoulder. Sirius Black turns around, a concerned look on his face when he sees you,

"Y/n?" He asks.

"Have you seen James?" You ask quietly, feeling foolish as tears brim your eyes.

"No. What happened?" Sirius's arms reach out to hug you and you quickly bury your face in his chest. You can't even form a sentence as all you can hear is cruel whispers as you feel everyone's eyes lock onto you.

"She's a muggle. James Potter married a dirty muggle." Matilda makes a scene childishly, pointing her bony finger directly at you and the entire party feels like it suddenly comes to a halt. You knew this would happen and you want to disappear.

"Don't talk about her like that," You hear your husband snap and you move away from Sirius a little, turning your head around.

"What's happening?” Euphemia asks quietly. You make eye contact with James and the moment he sees your tears, the drink in his hand falls to the floor and shatters at his feet. Striding towards you, he swoops you from Sirius's arms and almost crushes you to his chest.

Matilda narrows her eyes at him.

"You're a pathetic excuse for a witch," James insults her, a dark look in his eyes, and you wish he would stay quiet. His mother stares at him in shock but reaches for his arm anyway,

"Jamie, it's okay." Euphemia tries to calm him down but he's visibly furious now. She turns to Matilda and her family, "How dare you slander my son's wife in that manner? You have no business being here with those foolish and cruel opinions. You can leave my house this instant."

Matilda and her mother look practically appalled, "How could you allow this monstrosity to happen, Euphemia?" Her mother asks and some families look as disgusted as she is. Others look sympathetic and most of James's close friends and family look as furious as he is.

"Monstrosity? He loves her." Euphemia defends you adamantly.

"How can you possibly love a muggle?" Matilda asks James, cheeks flushed, and this time Sirius interrupts,

"Oh, you shut up. You're just nasty and jealous because no one wants a horrible woman like yourself."

Matilda gasps and she looks at Sirius with teary eyes. When she begins to cry loudly, her tears send the entire room into a frenzy. Some jump to defend her, while others start to defend your relationship with James.

In the commotion, your husband takes your hand and quickly leads you out the doors. Outside on the front stairs, you see him take out his wand from inside his blazer and suddenly your entire body jerks. In a few seconds, you find yourself in front of your home and you clutch your stomach.

James holds your hair as you vomit and he soothes circles on your back as he apologizes profusely,

"I'm sorry, my love. I'm so so sorry."

You catch your breath and wipe your mouth with your arm. Now you feel ashamed and gross. You straighten yourself and look at James. He looks extremely guilty. "Didn't I tell you that would happen?" You ask and dramatically slump into him for a hug.

He hugs you and kisses your forehead multiple times, "It shouldn't have, my darling. Matilda is a complete nutter. I don't even know why my mum invites her and her horrible family. Honestly, I know mum means well but she can be so daft sometimes." James squeezes you in his arms.

You smile into his shoulder, "I love your mum. She's always kind to me."

James pulls away and begins to move some hair away from your face, "They should all be kind to you. You're bloody amazing. The smartest and prettiest girl I know." He feels your shoulders drop and he kisses your forehead again, "Come on," He whispers and, with his hand on your back, he leads you inside.

James runs you a warm bath and he washes your body delicately as he tries to scrub away the harsh words and screams from the evening. Then, he dresses you in one of his sweaters and when you sit on the bed you share, James starts to braid your freshly dry and combed hair. It's domestic and you start to feel as fuzzy as the sweater on your skin.

"I love you." You whisper, barely audible but James hears you anyway.

"I would certainly hope so," He tries to lighten the mood as he finishes your braid and pushes your hair over your shoulder, "Otherwise, I would wonder why you married me."

You turn around. James cautiously moves your legs over his crossed ones and he pulls you closer to him, "I would marry you in every lifetime, Jamsey." You admit and he looks pleasantly surprised by your comment.

He smirks, "Even if I was a worm?" He raises his eyebrows teasingly, clearly amused by his own joke.

"Yes. If you were a worm, I'd also want to be a worm, silly.' You reason with a small smile.

"Seems impractical," James chuckles.

You kiss him. You can taste the lasting alcohol from the fancy cocktail he drank, and run a hand into his shaggy hair. "Jamsey," You whisper, burning to hear him say the words, "Tell me you love me?"

James smirks, "I love you, baby."

"And you love me even though I'm only a muggle?" You ask softly, suddenly feeling incredibly insecure that you'll never share something that is so much of who James is. You'll never share memories from Hogwarts, or truly understand the references he makes to the childhood wizard films he loves, and sometimes it still takes you time to remember all the wizard terms he uses when he talks.

James is not pleased with your question, however, "Y/n, do you love me even though I know magic?"

"Of course I do," You answer quickly.

"Then why on earth would you think I love you any less because you don't? I married you, for goodness sakes! You have that pretty ring on your finger to remind you of how much I love you."

James takes your hand and you chuckle when he kisses down your neck, "Okay, you're right, I'm sorry." You say and you feel reassured even when you didn't have to feel insecure. James loves you the way you are. He always has. You've known this from the very first I love you.

"Come on, honey, let's go to sleep." James kisses your cheek.

"Hmm, I was thinking we should do something else," You tease, kissing your husband's nose. James smiles at you and he starts to draw little tiny hearts onto your palm.

"What's that, my love?"

"James, I wanna have a baby." You say. James freezes and his eyes round. He looks at you hesitantly, unsure of his next words,

"You want to have a baby? Now?" He asks and you nod, "I-I don't know if we should — this isn't exactly the safest time to have a kid." James reasons and your heart drops.

He sees your expression and his heart breaks, "No, no, honey. I want a baby." He clarifies, "I just don't want to worry about another love in my life. I worry about you enough, darlin'." He jokes behind some sincerity and you squeeze his hand.

"I understand, James." You look at him and try to hide how sad this situation makes you but James can tell. He can always tell.

"You really want this?" He asks softly, "Even after what happened tonight?"

You let out a choked laugh, "I suppose. I just want a mini-you so badly."

James shakes his head with a smirk, "No, you don't. You know that baby will be an absolute headache if they're anything like I was."

"It'll be worth it," You mumble seriously.

You can see James think for a moment and then he beams and says, "Tell ya what, let's have our baby, yeah?"

"Yeah?" Your eyebrows raise in question.

James pauses a moment, "But, can we plan on staying with your parents for a while until things blow over? Just as a precaution?" He looks a little embarrassed to even ask.

You frown. James wants to live with your parents? Your muggle family? Your heart swells. When you married him, you'd both agreed to live with him in his world. Only a year ago it felt like James would never consider living somewhere where he couldn't access magic.

You look at him softly, "Are you sure?"

James nods and leans in to cup your cheeks, "Anything for you, my love. You and your happiness are the most important things in my life." You feel warm spread across your body as he kisses you and helps you climb into his lap. "I love you." He whispers into your ear as his hands lower themselves to your hips.

You kiss his face, all down his neck, until your hands trail down his stomach to his belt and you attach your lips to the crook of his neck. James lets out a shaky breath, "I love you more, honey." You say and sit up to caress his cheek, "Let's make that baby, yeah?" You grin.

"Don' have to ask me twice, love." James laughs in a mumble and turns you over, his arm wrapped around the small of your back as he presses his lips to yours.

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alexlwrites · 3 months

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𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"

The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a (now ex-ish) plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

Thank you for reading <3

P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.

It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,

But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.

You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?

“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”

“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”

What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?

“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”

You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”

You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from you.

Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?

At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.

—-

Jungkook was the one that saw you first.

It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”

“Who?”

The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.

You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”

“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”

There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”

Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”

“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”

“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.

“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.

“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”

You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”

Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.

“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.”

You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.

Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence.

—

“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”

You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen.

This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.

Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.

“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.

“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.

“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”

“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“You know, like High School Musical.”

He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…

His text stopped going through.

“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.

“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.

“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”

Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”

His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him.

It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would.

And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.

—

There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.

You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them.

“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?”

“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”

“It’s probably a prank.”

“I bet he was hacked.”

Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you?

It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.

When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.

You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry.

“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”

That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.

You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.

“What are they saying?”

“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.

He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture.

You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…

Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.

“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.

You… You had never gotten flowers.

“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”

“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”

“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”

“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”

You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment?

Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.

“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…”

He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?”

You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”

“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”

You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.

“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

°•. ✿ .•°

[Red Daisies taglist: @purplelady85 ]

[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @junecat18 ; @kayleefriedchicken ; @jkselcouth ; @ivrose21 ; @svnbangtansworld ]

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts #jungkook x reader #alexl red daisies #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #bts x y/n #kim taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #jung hoseok x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim seokjin x reader #ot7 fluff #bts romance #bts college au

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thatfeelinwhenyou · 9 months

Text

KINDRED — yang jungwon

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star taekwondo athlete and put them in front of a camera?

“Kindred” a student documentary. Pilot episode airing tonight on TVN 7PM KST.

PAIRING: athlete!jungwon x stucopres!fem!reader

FEATURING: enhypen, yunjin from lesserafim, ryujin and chaeryeong from itzy, chanelle from runext, beomgyu and taehyun from txt, wonyoung from ive, gunwook and gyuvin from zb1 etc.

GENRE: high school au, enemies to lovers, nerd x athlete, forced proximity, slice of life, coming of age, he fell first and harder, fluff, ANGST, teen drama, slow burn ish?

WARNINGS: contains profanities, horrible attempt at humour, urban lingo, probably cringy, kys/kms jokes, depression jokes, sexual innuendos (nothing too inappropriate), depiction of violence, reader can be a little bit annoying at first, family drama, incorrect timestamps/information, no fixed faceclaims, not proofread etc.

STATUS: completed! (01/09/2023 – 18/03/2024)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: please read! story concept is heavily inspired by the kdrama ‘our beloved summer’ other than that the storyline is completely original (or so i assume since i manifested this out from the crevices of my pea brain). i’ll try to keep this one to ard 30 chapters (who am i kidding). chapters with ‘(hw)’ next to them indicates that they are half-written, in case y’all skip over it! as always, the content and depiction of the characters in this smau do not in anyway represent them in real life. also i know how twitter has been rebranded to x, but we’re just gonna continue calling it twitter. lastly, if you do end up enjoying, please do like, comment (love reading your comments btw), and reblog so this can reach!! without further ado, enjoy!

TAGS: #tfwy kindred #tfwy smau

TEASER

profile. one | two | three

episode 1 - ratatouille and the underdogs

episode 2 - one way ticket to university

episode 3 - do you take constructive criticism?

episode 4 - unsolicited but appreciated

episode 5 - the art of benevolence

episode 6 - taekwondo-anti

episode 7 - beating the mentally ill allegations

episode 8 - can’t help it, i’m a libra

episode 9 - operation we-don’t-really-hate-each-other (hw)

episode 10 - she’s an oscar award winning actress

episode 11 - someone like me (hw)

episode 12 - ‘female-lead-realising-the-bad-boy-isnt-actually-that-bad’ arc

episode 13 - 5 foot 9 garfield meets avatar

episode 14 - yn the heterosexual

episode 15 - the ynwon getting closer montage :p

episode 16 - to the moon and back

episode 17 - eat 2 left toes

episode 18 - you are approved! (hw)

episode 19 - asking for a friend

episode 20 - rediscovering won’s ability to love

episode 21 - beomgyu’s 99999 eq

episode 22 - ynwon get together or else >:(

episode 23 - “hate”

episode 24 - not all problems can be solved with a formula

episode 25 - H.O.M.E.W.R.E.C.K.E.R

episode 26 - collecting facebook milfs like pokémons

episode 27 - you were brighter than the moon (hw)

episode 28 - no matter shrimp or whale, you deserve to flap your tail

episode 29 - the garden is full of surprises (hw)

episode 30 - weapon of mass destruction

episode 31 - the name above me (hw)

episode 32 - no offense but she’s a cockblocker

episode 33 - the bane of my existence (hw)

episode 34 - risky risky wiggy wigi this is an emergency

episode 35 - live my life on my terms (hw)

episode 36 - separation anxiety goes crazy

episode 37 - paparizzki

episode 38 - is it too late now to say Sorry?

episode 39 - everything will work out just the way you want it to (hw)

episode 40 (finale) - her entire being is loveable (written)

epilogue - kindred, signing off part 1 | part 2

bonus chapters!

yunjin x heeseung

i can fight

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starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies · 21 days

Text

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

Writing Masterlist

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #obx x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #stars writes #starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies

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diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls · 4 months

Text

At the end of everything Percy chooses to be on Luke's side, not Kronos's, not the gods' but Luke's. Luke, who was just a kid forced to grow up too soon, Luke, who has been angry his whole life, forced to protect people he cared about without any resources, forced to go on the run, forced to flee to a place that's supposed to be safe only to find out it reeks of generations of kids who were abused and mistreated by parents who didn't care, taught that love was transactional, taught that glory is everything and forced to reach for an impossible standard of glory to achieve that love.

I think ultimately Percy is the child of the prophecy because he was taught from a very young age that love should be unconditional, but he also learned from a young age that not all love is. He WAS Luke. The same anger towards the gods, the same desperate need for change, the same feelings of helplessness. Luke sees himself in Percy, and I think part of the reason Percy made the choice to give Luke the knife is because he sees himself in Luke. Everything Luke has ever said about the gods, about demigods, about the system, Percy has said those same things. Out loud.

The difference is that Luke consistently chose anger over love. From the very beginning of his story, he compromised the safety of those he was supposed to protect by picking fights, and he turned to a darker force to combat the helplessness of his existence, maybe he still cared about Annabeth and about family at the beginning but it didn't take much time for that to change. He discards Annbeth's life; the one person he promised to stand by and protect, he's careless with the lives of other half-bloods, he's cruel.

I love the effort that they are making in the show to portray Percy as a mirror to Luke from the very beginning, way before new viewers even know what's going to happen at the end. Percy is saying, "The gods have done nothing for me, they have done nothing but hurt the people I care about, we would be better off without them". Luke is undoubtedly the villain and the choices he made were his own, but at the same time, he was just a kid who felt helpless and alone. Because of that, he chose the anger he felt towards the gods over the love he had for his family, and that's where Percy is different.

Athena once said to Percy that he would let the world burn just to save a friend. His love and his loyalty are so strong that he couldn't sacrifice anyone he cared about if it meant saving the world. Unrealistic or not, there is something beautiful about the idea of someone who cares enough about you to think that a world without you in it isn't a world worth saving at all.

Kronos tries to paint loyalty, family ties and love as a weakness, when we all know that it was the only thing that had any power against him. Luke allows himself to be corrupted to the point where he sees those things as weaknesses as well until Kronos loses everything because of one little girl and what she represents. Annabeth's reminder of Luke's promise was the one thing that gave him enough strength to take control. The reminder that he loved someone and that he promised to be her family has the power to break him from the control of the most powerful evil.

It's the reminder of the love he had before he chose anger that gives him the strength to defeat that anger. And it's the love he always had for the demigods seeping back in that gives him the strength to stay alive long enough for Percy to promise to protect them.

I don't know that he would have had the strength to destroy Kronos without the knowledge that Percy would be there to finish the fight that he had lost sight of. He spent years fighting Percy, and he watched him choose the half-bloods over and over again, Luke saw how much anger he had, and saw him choose love instead. Luke knew that Percy would be able to do something that he had never been able to do, choose to protect the people he loves before hurting the people he hates. Everything Luke did, he did to punish the gods for the way they treated their kids, and everything Percy did, he did to protect those kids. Luke couldn't have destroyed Kronos if he didn't know that someone who cared about those kids as much as he did would be there to protect them the way he tried and failed to.

#unfortunately i've been a luke castellan apologist since birth #and now i have to suffer #rip hater you're not going to like this one #you know who you are #percy jackson #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #the lightning thief #the last olympian #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo tv series #annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson spoilers #pjo spoilers

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inuyashaluver · 3 months

Note

Could we get an enemies -> lovers with Leila Ouahabi ?

liar - leila ouahabi

leila ouahabi x reader

description: in which a certain left back tackles you dangerously many years ago in the youth teams, giving you an acl injury. you hate each other and nothing will change that…maybe

warnings: swearing, spanish in bold italics

a/n: indeed you can, my love! thank you and enjoy!! ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and leila ouahabi had a very difficult relationship. to say the least, you fucking hated each other.

you and leila were always around each other and it made your blood boil. your teammates often told you that your hatred for the girl was a little ridiculous but you wouldn’t relent.

leila on the other hand only hated you because you hated her. she didn’t really understand it but your attitude and mannerisms towards her made you insufferable for her.

—

it all started in the spanish youth teams, both of you just 15 and as eager as ever. you played in the midfield while leila played left back, she’d mark you occasionally but the two of you wouldn’t really speak. you were friendly with each other, saying hello with a wave when you saw each other at training.

until it all changed. you were all doing a little mini game to asses who would playing competition games and who would be benched. you and leila were considered the best of the best and you both knew it.

you both had an immense amount of respect for each other and the way you both played, that’s why it hurt so much when the hatred grew.

leila was marking you and she managed to get the ball off you through what she thought was a safe tackle, but you screamed in pain and fell to the ground with tears brimming in your eyes. you heard it, the dreaded pop that no one ever wanted to hear. it’s your acl.

“oh my god, (y/n), i’m so sorry-” leila rushes out, you look up at her with a glare, this was your opportunity to represent your country and it was taken from you because of her.

“i don’t want to hear it, ouahabi” you scoff, tearing your gaze away from her face of shock and fear while you get carried off the pitch by alexia and mapi.

from then on, you couldn’t stand leila. everything you’d worked so hard for was taken from you in the span of two minutes. now when the girls played, you’d have to sit in the stands with your crutches.

your scowl was evident on your face everytime leila had the ball. leila had made an immense effort to talk to you, to apologise, to offer you a helping hand but you dismissed her every time, she tried to confide in alexia but she knew you too well.

you were so stubborn and stood your ground, alexia tried to convince you to at least talk to the girl but you refused. it all went downhill from there.

—

it seemed that you and leila couldn’t get rid of each other. every club you got signed to, she did. you had the same friends, the same interests also but you just couldn’t get passed the fact that she caused you an acl injury.

sure, maybe you were being a little ridiculous but it was a big opportunity for you to gain recognition for spain and you just didn’t get it.

when you both signed to barcelona in 2016, everyone could tell the tension was still the same as it had been since you were both 15. you were both 23 now and you could still cut the tension with a knife.

your teammates desperately tried to get you two to get along, but it just didn’t happen. you’d send each other snarky remarks, filthy looks, the whole works.

it was truly disappointing for your teammates to see how you two just acted like children. the grudge you held being over 8 years long.

the thing is, leila wanted to be friends with you, she always had been. as the years progressed, you blossomed, not only in football but your appearance and intelligence also. she always thought you were beautiful but you only got prettier each day.

you also thought leila was gorgeous, who wouldn’t? that’s what pissed you off more, perfect leila clouding your thoughts completely. your distaste for each other was in reality intrigue and attraction but you and leila would never admit that. ever.

—

“fucking watch it, ouahabi!” you exclaim as you get slammed to the floor during a mini game in training, “you watch it, idiot” she grumbled, rolling her eyes when you curse her under your breath.

“enough, you’re acting like children!” alexia reprimands, pointing an accusatory finger with a stern expression at both of you. you give her a tight lipped smile and move to stand up, bumping leila’s shoulder with your own.

“ale, she started it” leila groans, hitting your shoulder back with hers, “she pushed me on the ground, ale!” you frown, alexia shook her head at both of you, you were exactly the same.

“and i’ll finish it, i don’t care, all i ask is for one normal training session, you’re adults” she grits, you and leila send each other a little glare before going back to the game.

you have the ball and she manages to get it off you again and you throw your head back in frustration, “oops, sorry” she mocks, winking at you when she passes the ball away.

you give her a little shove and run back up the field and her team gets a goal, her teasing laugh rings in your ears as you watch her celebrate the goal.

—

in the change rooms that day, you can’t help but look at leila as she changes, her cubby was in your direct view. she was perfect and it made you mad in a way you couldn’t explain.

alexia raises her eyebrows in surprise watching you ogle over her and you stop immediately, heading to the showers with a frustrated sigh.

though, you notice a certain someone in the shower directly across from you, her gaze lingering on your upper back as you showered. your cheeks grow slightly pink, you felt flustered.

“fucking hell, ouahabi, do you have to follow me everywhere?” you bark, leila laughs at you mockingly,

“oh please, princesa (princess) you don’t own the showers” she retorts, you roll your eyes and mutter nonsense that made leila smile secretly. you never change.

you get out the shower and flip her off, she does the same and smiles at you sickeningly sweet, making you shake your head before going to find alexia to complain.

only to receive a lecture that you were being childish, causing leila to walk past you with a teasing grin when she heard you getting scolded.

—

you played with each other for years at barcelona until you decided you needed a change. you wanted to give the wsl so you could gain some new techniques.

you’d gotten an offer from manchester city and it was just a no brainer to accept it. you signed the contract with a heavy heart but knew it would be refreshing

if only you knew who else got a contract.

it was to your great surprise when you walked into your first training session to see a certain brunette walking in the same time as you.

“you’re fucking joking” you say simply, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath when you see leila wearing the same training kit you were. she laughs, she genuinely laughs and takes in your appearance.

“can’t get enough of me, huh, princesa (princess)?” she smirks, walking up to you full of confidence. you wanted to punch her then and there, but also kiss her but that was right at the back of your mind and should not be acknowledged.

“you wish, clearly you can’t get enough of me because you follow me everywhere” you challenged, standing on your tiptoes to look a little more intimidating and she found it really cute.

“okay, nena (baby)” she shrugs, moving to the door to open it and leaving you behind. your cheeks are burning, she’s never called you that before.

—

you both get introduced to everyone and got pulled aside by a couple of people, mentioning the undeniable tension between the two of you and you struggled to give them an answer without feeling stupid.

during training, you can’t help but look at leila, the way she moved, the way she looked perfect after a full training session. you were fucked.

leila noticed it immediately, the way your gaze would follow her every move, she loved it, purposefully giving you a little show when she’d flex her arms or lift her shorts up a little higher. she loved to see you nervous, especially because of her.

you were placed on the same team for training activities and you managed to get a goal, “buena niña (good girl)” she says simply from behind you, your legs feel like jelly and you look at her in surprise.

she smirks and sends you a cheeky wink, your body is on fire. you’re supposed to hate her, snap out of it, you thought. but it was extremely hard when she’s looking at you like that and calling you all these pet names.

—

it was your first game for manchester city and you and leila were starting. it was daunting, your first game for your brand new club when you can’t even think straight due to a certain brunette.

she’s been subtly flirting with you for weeks, sending you cheeky looks, shamelessly checking you out. you couldn’t handle it, you chose not to entertain it but that doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it.

leila knew you very well, she knew your mannerisms and knew you enjoyed it, so why wouldn’t she pursue it?

the game was going well, you and leila proved your success in the team and everyone was thoroughly impressed.

you were in the lead 2-0 and the game was clean up until the second half. the other team grew in frustration and began to get sloppy, in their passes, tackles, everything. and unfortunately, you were the one that had to deal with it.

you got tackled by your marker and she studded your ankle, you fall to the floor with a gasp and the whistle blows immediately. the referee shows her a yellow card and you look up in shock to see leila shoving her.

“are you fucking serious?” a shove to the girl’s chest, “are you trying to take her out because she’s better than you or something?” another shove. she’s furious, she watched as you fell to the ground and she just saw red. no one hurts her girl.

the pain subsides, you feel good to continue despite the slight sting. you walk up to leila who’s currently being held back by lauren and grab her hand in yours. you’ve never been so attracted to someone in your life.

she looks down at you in surprise, her eyes scanning your face before dropping to your ankle. “i’m fine, leila” your eyes stare into hers and she reluctantly nods, gripping your hand tightly and sending your marker a little glare as she lets you pull her away.

leila looks down at your joint hands with a hint of a smile and you drop it immediately after following her gaze.

“you’re sure you’re okay?” leila looks right into your eyes in any words to trace for any lies, you nod and give her a small smile.

“i’m okay, thank you” you say softly, she grins and squeezes your shoulder gently “anytime, princesa (princess)” she flirts, walking back to her position and leaving you stunned.

after the game, you hang around after in the change rooms as the girls leave, coincidentally leaving you both there alone. you take a deep breath and walk up to her while she’s lacing her shoes, clearly about to leave.

“i just wanted to say thank you again, for defending me” you say sheepishly, looking anywhere but at her. she chuckles and watches as you squirm nervously. she liked how she had that effect on you.

“looks like you’re getting soft on me, hermosa (beautiful)” she smirks, you huff in frustration and look at her in fake annoyance. “i can’t be nice and express my gratitude?” you argue, leila smiles at your rambling.

“of course you can, you’re different, you know? you’re much nicer” she teases, you roll your eyes at her and cross your arms over your chest as you stare down at her.

“whatever, ouahabi, i still hate you” you grit out, the biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“mentirosa (liar)” she smiles, standing up to be directly in front of you, her eyes flickering between yours. “what?” you breathe out, the proximity making you nervous.

“men-ti-ro-sa” she breaks down each syllable, each one hitting your heart. you look up to drop the eye contact and she grabs your chin gently, directing your gaze back to her eyes.

you were killing her, with your wide eyes and pink cheeks, she couldn’t ignore her feelings anymore.

your hands dumbly drop to your sides as you look up at her, her hand holding your chin moving to cradle your jaw. she takes in your appearance with a gentle smile, her gaze lingering on your lips for a second before looking back into your eyes.

“so beautiful” she starts with a smile, “beautiful but so stubborn” she wrinkles her nose teasingly and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“you’re beautiful” you say earnestly, she grins brightly at that, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she looks at you. “softie” she taunts, leaning forward slightly, your eyes fall to her lips and she takes that as her cue, she moves forward to pull you into a searing kiss.

your hands go around her neck to pull her closer and her free hand rests on your hip, her lips was so warm and weirdly familiar, it feels like you’ve kissed before.

before she deepens it, she pulls away slightly and you whine at the loss of contact. she raises her eyebrows amusingly and smiles at you, “still hate me?” she says playfully,

“no” you whisper against her lips, “not for a while” you move forward to capture her lips in another kiss, conveying every ounce of affection you had for each other.

—

she took you on a couple of dates and you got together after a very short amount of time. falling into a loving relationship full of so much love you both couldn’t believe it, eventually moving in together in manchester.

you both decided to wait to tell your national teammates, you convinced leila to do so and she could never say no to you when you kissed her and gave her your best puppy dog eyes.

when you both had national duty, your teammates, especially alexia were pleasantly surprised that you weren’t at each other’s throats as usual.

it was until the mini game when you and leila were on opposite teams that you confirmed the relationship.

she tackled you and you fell to the floor, she smiles and holds her hands out to you, “sorry, bebé (baby)” she lifts you off the floor, “it’s okay, mi amor (my love)” you lean forward and place a quick kiss on her lips and the entire team screams in shock.

oh how you wish you had your phone when you saw alexia’s face, she was gagged.

leila laughs brightly and tucks you into her side, making an effort to slide her hand from your waist to your ass before moving back up again.

the way you both looked at each other with nothing but affection had your teammates believing they were hallucinating. “what the fuck is going on?” mapi screams, you and leila giggle before she kisses your temple as you explain the situation.

you and leila couldn’t be happier, and once your teammates saw the love you had for each other, they were ecstatic.

though it did take some getting used to seeing you two making out rather than shoving each other with harsh words but it was refreshing.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - just pretend it’s you, ily claudia xx

liked by alexiaputellas and 44,232 others

leilaouahabi: she’s so cute, she thought she hated me all these years but she was in loveeee

view all comments

yourname: i’m hating you a little right now for exposing me like this

↳ leilaouahabi: i love you?

↳ yourname: i mean, i love you too i guess

↳ leilaouahabi: lindaaaaa (cutie)

alexiaputellas: i knew she always liked you, it was so obvious with her little heart eyes

↳ leilaouahabi: oh same, she’s obsessed with me

↳ yourname: hello? why are we exposing my business?

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #leila ouahabi x reader #leila ouahabi

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aspoonofsugar · 3 months

Note

Hi! Where do you think Alastor's arc is going? Redemption or villainy?

Hi!

Thank you for the ask, I loved watching Hazbin Hotel and I am happy I can write for the series :)

As for now, I think Alastor will spiral and hurt Charlie very badly, but he will eventually redeem himself (probably in a key moment). That is because Alastor is framed as Charlie's Jungian shadow.

What is the Jungian Shadow?

According to Jung, the shadow is what a person represses, both positive and negative. So, it can be one's violent tendencies, but also one's potential and energy. It really depends on the person.

So, why does Alastor fit the Shadow Archetype? Well, first of all:

Alastor's powers make use of shadows. Not only that, but Alastor's own shadow is very expressive and shows the demon's repressed feelings. In other words:

On the one hand Alastor embodies the shadow, in the sense he represents what Charlie refuses to face

On the other hand Alastor himself represses his emotions behind a smiling face:

Alastor: Just because you see a smile, don't think you know what is going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing and ensures tha no matter what comes your way, you're the one in control.

This is a good characterization for a jungian shadow because the shadow grows stronger and more dangerous, when it's ignored. So, the most one refuses to face their feelings, the most these feelings fester and grow powerful and dangerous. This fits Alastor both when it comes to others and to his own character:

He takes advantage of an emotional unstable and vulnerable Charlie to strike an abimguous deal with her. Similarly, he uses Husk's gambling addiction to steal his soul. He uses people's weaknesses an unsolved problems to take over.

He suffocates his feelings, which symbolically manifest in his powerful shadow-tentacles. His design and abilities are representative of his psychological coping mechanism, which is nothing, but repression.

As written above, though, the Jungian Shadow can be both negative and positive depending on what one hides. This duality is shown in Alastor's two roles in Charlie's arc:

He is a demonic archetype (even moreso than Lucifer, the titular devil), as he waits in the shadows for a chance to manipulate Charlie

He is an evil mentor, as he genuinelly likes Charlie, sees her potential and wants to guide her towards greatness:

She's filled with potential that I could guide

This isn't a contradiction, but complexity. Alastor is chaotic and mixes negative traits and intentions with positive ones. Just like what people repress can be both bad and good, usually at the same time.

This is clear when it comes to the Princess of Hell:

Charlie to Alastor: What's that you said about smiles?

Charlie is similar to Alastor in how she represses herself behind her pollyanna persona and her smile. This doesn't mean she is faking her altruism and generosity, but that she is using these traits to hide something else:

Lute: The only reason you're still here is that Daddy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist's blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter.

Deep down, Charlie invests herself in the Hazbin Hotel project because she wants to matter. She feels powerless and unimportant, as a result of her parents' neglects and of Hell's difficult situation.

So, our protagonist has strong self-issues that she refuses to face:

Husk: Princess is a bleedy heart who wants to solve everybod else's problems, 'cept her own.

That said, this isn't the only thing Charlie represses. The Princess of Hell hides:

Every negative emotions she feels, like her self-hate or her anger at Vaggie for hiding her true identity:

Rosie: How does that make you feel? Charlie: Just... angry? Because we share everything! Because she always supported me, and my ideas, and now I don't know whether or not that was just more of the lies... Oh no, that's a horrible thing to think! Do I think that? Yes! No? Kinda?

Her most violent and aggressive side, which makes so she is unable to make full use of her powers:

Vaggie: Well, I mean... You're the princess of Hell, but you don't really use the power that comes with that. Mybe you can, I don't know? Command a little more... authority. Charlie: But that's so mean.

In short, by repressing her negative feelings, she also represses her potential. It is only by facing herself as a whole, that she can fully grow and bloom into her most powerful and complete self:

This is made clear in Charlie's quest in Cannibal Town. There, our girl is at her lowest, but she is pushing herself forward for the sake of her loved ones. She is trying to imitate Alastor by smiling, even if she is sour inside. However, things do not go well and it is only through her heart to heart chat with Rosie, that Charlie is able to pull herself together and inspire her people. Symbolically, she gets through them not with a 100% optimistic song like "Inside of every demon is a rainbow". Rather she opens her speech, by showing vulnerability and honesty:

It's a feeling like a rumbling in your gut That you could finally be faced with A billion needy faces I guess what I mean to say is For the first time in my life I might have to be ready for this Ready to be the one who's leading from the front Gotta come into my own Gotta come into my throne Gotta take charge and defend my only home And although I kinda feel unsteady Now I need to be ready for this

She affirms who she is and her willingness to grow into herself:

For the first time in my life Maybe I can be ready for this I can be the marshal leading the parade I can come into my own And I think I've always known My destiny could never be postponed When Adam brings the battle here I must appear like I'm ready for this

So, it is only by tapping into her own shadow that Charlie can be successfull. It is through expression and not repression that she can reach her goals.

What about Alastor?

He is the same, but so far he has been refusing to open up to others:

Angel: He's been here a while and he's still a big, creepy mystery.

That said, his time at the Hazbin Hotel has had an impact on him. He is forced to deal with others without killing them:

Vaggie: Pentious's eggs are all over the place. I need you to get rid of them. (...) Humanely!

He is shown cutting ties with a poisonous friend:

He openly admits he likes the people of the hotel:

Alastor: Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed.

However, he still refuses to openly show vulnerability and ends up like this:

Let's highlight that Charlie and Alastor are foiled in The Show Must Go On song.

Both stand in the ruins of their homes/dreams.

The Hotel:

I took a hotel, and I destroyed it I know I could have done better Better, instead of letting you down

The Radio Station:

This place reeks of death There's a chill in the air And I barely escaped being killed by a hair

And both decide not to give up and to keep pursuing their objectives. However, Charlie is framed positively, while Alastor negatively. Why?

Charlie sings about her feelings openly and is supported by her father and found family:

Alastor sings about his pain privately and even then he barely shows his desperation before going back to his villanious mask:

Symbolically the moment Alastor reunites with the Hotel Crew, he sings:

And we're doing it with a smile!

He is back in control of himself, ready to hide everything behind his neverchanging smile.

So, Alastor is both Charlie's negative foil and Jungian Shadow. As her negative foil, he is bound to spiral. As her Jungian Shadow he is bound to be saved. Why is that so? Two reasons.

The Jungian Shadow can't be killed, but needs to be integrated with.

The main themes of the series are redemption and love, so it is improbable that Charlie won't help the person, who co-founded the hotel with her.

If anything, it seems that our princess is progressively asked to forgive, inspire and see the good in more and more complex cases.

It starts with Angel, who willingly stays at the Hotel. It goes on with Pentious, who infiltrates the Hotel, but makes no real damage. Then Lucifer, whom Charlie loves, but that has been absent from the majority of her life. Finally, Vaggie, who breaks Charlie's trust.

Each conflict Charlie has challenges her in a different way and helps her discover herself and grow. She is bound to meet new struggles when Lilith becomes a broken pedestal and finally when Alastor betrays or hurts her. Still, she is going to forgive and to understand them.

Charlie is going to see the good in Alastor and to better understand herself as a result. As a matter of fact Charlie's journey is one where she is slowly discovering a world, which isn't black and white:

If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again

Just like people aren't black and white. Just like she herself isn't black and white. By saving Alastor, she is gonna save herself too. Together with the whole universe.

And what about Alastor? Well, he needs to work on himself, as well. He too must integrate with his shadow, who is embodied by a certain character:

Husk is a powerful overlord, who lost his soul to a demon. Just like Alastor:

Husk: Big talk for someone, who's also on a leash.

Alastor and Husk are both on a leash. Still, Husk admits it and starts working on his shortcoming:

Husk: You're a loser, just like me

Alastor instead affirms his willingness to be in control and to pull the strings:

Once I figure out how to unclip my wings Guess who will be pulling all the strings?

Alastor is a loser, just like Husk. Just like all the characters in hell. Sinners vs Winners. And yet, he refuses to admit it. This is why he makes no progress. Similarly, he wants freedom, but enslaves others. This isn't going to work out, which is why I am fairly certain he will eventually set Husk free. Probably by doing so, Alastor will make the first real step towards his own freedom. He will start integrating his own shadow.

Thank you for the ask!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel meta #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #charlie morningstar #my meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

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s-4pphics · 1 year

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tag, you're it! (e.w.)

ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY

omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah

imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it

wc;cw: 14.2k, ceosdaughter!ellie, tagger/artist!oc, ANGST!!, mentions of depression and suicidal ideation, illness, parental death & brief mentions of funerals, descriptions of foster care/homeless shelters and poverty, both oc n ellie have daddy issues, MOMMY ISSUES!!, brief mentions of drug addiction(coke), homophobia DURING PRIDE MONTH🤨🤨, internalized homophobia and misogyny, ellie is a horny touch starved loser n kinda stalkerish?, mentions of criminal injustice(police, prisons, etc.) i hate it here, rich ppl being demons, SMUT!!!!! MDNI!!!!, light descriptions of masturbation, potential dubcon!!, sexual tension😟, bratty subbottom!ellie, mean domtop!oc she carries her dick on her like a glock lol, slight fearplay, KNIFE PLAY/BLOOD, DIRTY TALK, finger and strap sucking, fingering, pussy eating, MOMMY KINK!!, nipple play, squirting <333 n creaming <333, riding, reverse cowgirl, slapping(FACE!!! ass titties), hitting it from the bbbbback, loss of virginity, masochism LOL, a lil ass play LOL, pretty taboo themes catch it

“She’s… I genuinely believe she’s deranged, your honor! She’s… uncontrollable! Look at what she’s done to our city! Civilians can see her tracks everywhere they go, and it’s disgusting! Not to mention she’s a pervert!”

You rolled your eyes as you listened to the high-pitched, ongoing shrieks of one of the wealthiest women in the state as she spat belittlements of you to the judge.

You were… fucked.

You adjusted in your uncomfortable chair, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest, turning your head to eye your lawyer, arching a brow at him as you waited for his defenses for you. He looked… scared shitless, to say the least.

Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail.

Were these pieces of shit really going to treat you like Satan himself for pulling a measly, little prank? Has April Fools truly lost all meaning?

A couple of days ago, on April 1st, you took it upon yourself to spray paint ♡GIRLDICK♡ across the largest building in the city, which just so happened to be owned by the Miller family, if anyone even bothered to call their cultist bond that. Their wealth swiftly accumulated when the now deceased founder of the organization, Joel Miller, discovered some new form of AI technology… or whatever the elders at the shelter told you. His death shook your city years ago; You weren’t sure why it was so moving for people, but R.I.P, you guess.

You assumed they were just another group of elitist fuckers, but he must’ve been decent at the most; You still remember his memorial broadcasting on the small TV at the shelter as the other residents mourned in solace.

Regardless, you hope all their institutions across the nation collapse one day, preferably with the rest of them inside.

The broad in the black, silk suit kept pointing her finger at you, and it took everything in your spirit to not get up out of your seat and rip it clean off her hand and shove it down her throat.

Not every tag you’ve done around the city has been rooted in “perversion”. There’s nothing perverse about… loving girldick. It’s a way of life!

Fuck security cameras.

Unbeknownst to them, you’ve already been coined as a hidden talent in the city, at least according to some people you know at the shelter. You’re faceless in the eye of the public, but that separation doesn’t negate their appreciation for your artwork. You even went viral for the mural you painted of your father for his birthday two years ago, even though the fucker that posted it on Instagram hadn’t included your signature. You could bet millions of people have seen it by now, and you gained absolutely nothing from it.

But, of course, your form of creative expression was being reduced to a jizzing penis. You've created countless mosaics around the city that represent the purest forms of love and sex, and now you are being blasted for being some sort of corrupt sicko. You only drew what came natural to you, and if people felt a way about it, they could choke on the fattest girldick known to humanity. You hate rich people.

Your father didn’t sacrifice everything he had to teach you the complexities of sketching for your name to be attached to outlines of dicks. You didn’t grow up watching your father skip meals so he could get you a new water paint set for your birthday every year for your art to be lawfully ridiculed. The only comfort this situation brought was that you knew he would’ve found the sloppily drawn cock hysterical. You still remember his laugh after all this time.

You miss him dearly. You probably could’ve been just as rich, if not more, as the bitch at the other table if he was still here with you. He would’ve ensured you didn’t stray off into the life you live now.

Being in foster care was the dissipation of your joy. You were considered a problem child very early on: fighting the caretakers when they tried to calm you, cursing at them, stealing, and nobody wanted to adopt you because of that, regardless of your talents. You were set up to fail too early, and you despised the world because of it.

Your record was horrendous, and you were going to jail. You fucking hate rich people.

… Except the Miller's eldest daughter. She gets a pass.

And she keeps staring at you.

Every time you caught her sparkly eyes, she blushed and looked forward, her freckles surrounded by a deep red that rushed down her neck. She was dressed much less… sophisticated than her mother: her hair tied back in a low bun and littered with black bobby-pins, a dark-blue sweater, rings on her thumb, black pants, and clean Vanz.

You knew a lesbian when you saw one. You could barely hide your knowing smirk.

“My child doesn’t need to be exposed to such… nauseating ideologies! Think of the children of the city and what they’re forced to see because of vile people like that,” she pointed at you again. You were this fucking close to stabbing her with that pen in front of you.

Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” the judge started. What kind of backwards shit was this; Wasn’t she supposed to be respecting him? “It’s important that we stay on track. You’re specifically suing her for vandalism— “

“Ongoing, unchecked vandalism! This is not her first charge, your honor, it’s her seventh! She’s… she’s— “

You tried to tune her out, looking around the congested space of the courtroom, and you caught eyes—shiny, green eyes— on you. Again.

She was fiddling with her hands in her lap, her teeth picking at the dry skin on her bottom lip. But she didn’t look away this time. You watched her eyes trail over your face, down to your jaw, your neck, your chest, only to come back up to your eyes.

You did the same, taking in the dots on her soft cheeks, her eyes, her pretty nose, and mouth, looking her up and down, biting your lip, letting her know you were gauging her. She was cute, you had to admit.

“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “

You looked up in shock, feeling like your body had been dunked into a tub of ice water and left to die, instantly stiffening at the announcement of your sentence, the sound of the slamming gavel nearly putting you six feet under.

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the judge in disbelief as he organized his papers emotionlessly, your lawyer putting his hand on your shoulder. You knocked it off and glared at him. You looked over to the table, the family already up and taking their leave, Mrs. Miller’s hand tightly enclosed around her daughter’s wrist as she dragged her out the wooden doors.

Two security guards were already walking towards you with cuffs, gripping your arms too roughly to pull you up out of your seat and latching the metal around your skin. You started to panic as they walked you towards another set of doors.

“Wait, wait, my backpack, I need my— “

“You aren’t allowed to have anything on you. Your property will be held by the court until further notice.”

“But— “

“No buts, and don’t resist,” you felt the security grip your arm harder, and your anxiety peaked, your panting breaths hardly leaving your body.

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t. Your life was shattering around you in slow motion, loose shards slicing through you with intent to kill.

You allowed the brawly men to drag you… anywhere. You didn’t care anymore; You were tired, and no longer had the urge to fight left in your heart.

Ellie was brought up in isolation.

Homeschooled, no friends, no purpose outside of being the vessel to represent her family name, creating the next line of heirs for her father’s company.

The benefits of his successes had simply… appeared when she was fifteen.

She remembered how he went from being present, gave her the utmost attention, played sports with her, taught her how to sing and self-defense with his past down switchblade, to not, completely cut off from society as he barricaded himself in his study and worked relentlessly on new forms of technology. Being an only child brought nothing but loneliness for her after a while.

But then they were rich. They moved to an affluent neighborhood and into a two-story house in a matter of months, driving Porches and buying out stores. Wealth appeared, but the relationship with her family suffered because of it.

Her father fell ill, and after a multitude of hospital visits, teary farewells, and a memorial, he was gone. Merely a memory that hardly seemed real. Her and her mother’s relationship became even more unsteady after his passing.

Ellie’s mother swiftly took over the company in an almost authoritarian way. She interacted with society in a robotic, rehearsed manner. Mechanical, soulless, the only proof of her humanity exposing itself when she snorted white powder.

Her mother had brought up the idea of marriage the second she turned eighteen, a year before her father’s passing, saying that there were multiple well-off men that were eager to be with her, willing to give her children. Multiple.

Men…. children… having children with men. Money. The empire. Her mother.

It all made her nauseous.

… But art didn’t.

She’d always kept her journals secret. Left in a box on the highest shelf of her walk-in closet where the maids couldn’t find them.

She expressed everything that she couldn’t to her mother on paper. Her depression, her insomnia, her desire for death, her mourning, the need for sex with non-men, any form of physical connection, something—anything that made her feel human, normal.

She needed a fucking hug. A kiss. Sex. She wanted to fuck.

The first time she saw your artwork on an abandoned building as she chauffeured to the museum, she’d nearly fainted.

It’d been two women on top of each other, the most intimate parts of their body covered with the other’s hands and skin. One had her head between the other’s legs atop blankets and flowers as the other… apparently in the middle of an orgasm. Her mother always made the point of sex sound so… stiff. Lifeless. Merely a factor of procreation.

But your art was so erotic. Sensual. So full of pleasure and softness and care.

She’d almost jumped out of the car and onto oncoming traffic to get a closer look at every detail, but the car was too quick. She couldn’t even get a fucking picture.

And she was soaking. How the fuck was she going to explore a museum when she was dripping like this?!

You’d given her one of the strongest orgasms she’d ever had in her life when she returned home that day, and she didn’t even know who you were. She’d spent hours with her hand between her legs as she thought of your creation while her mother was out working, moaning and crying out as loud as she wanted, and she wasn’t even embarrassed.

She would sneak out in the darkest clothes she had when her mother passed out on the couch, and just walk. Specifically in search for anything with your signature that she’d memorized like it was her own. She’d taken pictures of your content, memorized them, got off to the suggestive ones in secret, and appreciated your love and passion for your craft.

She’d even started recreating her own depictions of eroticism. All with women. They never looked the same: different heights, all skin tones and body types, anything that she could think of, she drew it. She’d tried to envision what you looked like after only a few weeks, and she prayed her envisions were at least somewhat accurate.

She never could draw self-portraits with precision, but she knew it was her. She was always in the middle of the raunchiness that she conjured up in her mind, being touched everywhere, tied up, beaten, completely ripped apart and forced to forget the suffocating world around her. Her reimagining's of herself would be drowned in pleasure, sometimes by you, by herself, by faceless strangers. Anything she wanted.

When she saw you for the first time, she almost couldn’t control herself.

She’d felt like a fucking creep as she ducked behind parked cars to watch you paint all over an abandoned freight train behind a trashed building. The streets had been silent as she watched you decorate the metal cart in floral interpretations of pussy, her heart in her throat.

You looked gorgeous and focused and tired. So, so tired, only in sweats and a tank top with a hefty bag strapped to your back. She assumed you kept your art supplies in there.

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes off you when she’d seen you during your court hearing.

You were just as gorgeous as the first time she saw you, but, somehow, even more exhausted. Far away, not really present, but she couldn’t blame you. And she couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by you. Even in your grayest moments, you made her feel vibrant. And that brought her guilt.

But it also made her lustful. Hungry.

And she couldn’t stop staring.

When her mother dragged her out of the hearing, she was enraged, even more so when she degraded you on the way back to the car.

You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!

Don’t ever, in your life, embarrass me again.

I’ll throw you in the gutter with that rat if you ever disrespect me like you just did in there. Do you understand?

Ellie didn’t even know what she did to garner a response this aggressive, but she was used to it. And, for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She didn’t give a fuck.

At that moment, she knew what she had to do.

It was your fifth day in prison, and you felt nothing.

You didn’t cry, you didn’t plead, you simply succumbed to your destiny in silence. Your father would be so disappointed if he were alive.

I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!

But you couldn’t. You were tired, and you wished you could stay asleep, never to wake up again.

You’ve been working like a dog since you got here, and you accepted it. This was your life, and you felt nothing.

Until your cell unlocked. These fuckers were probably here to shit talk you again.

They cuffed your wrists and led you somewhere. You didn’t care where, keeping your head down as they encased your arms in a calloused grasp. You hoped this location would be your last forever.

They led you into an empty room and uncuffed you. You saw the old sweatsuit that you’d received from the shelter, and your heartbeat sped up. You looked at the security in confusion. What the fuck were they doing? What were they about to do?

You could barely hear what the officers were saying, jumbled words of bail bond and cash payments molding together and sounding like a foreign language to you. They undid your handcuffs and pointed towards the clothes, murmuring for you to change so they could transport you back to the courthouse to retrieve your belongings.

What the fuck is going on?

When you returned to the shelter, you inspected your bag. After nearly scrubbing your skin off while showering.

The contents were all in their original condition, each individual item wrapped in plastic with small notes attached to them. Except for your dick. You assumed the court had no comments.

Your paint, your brushes, random hairpins, your notebooks. They were all there in their original condition. Thank god.

What you didn’t expect to see was a new jacket, sweatsuit, and small note wrapped in the same plastic from inspection.

You ripped the plastic open and retrieved the note, unfolding it and… confusion, arousal, and fear rushed through you, shocking your body as all your feelings shot down your spine.

It was a sketch of… you. And a girl bent over with her hands bound behind her back as you fucked her. An… incredibly familiar looking girl.

A freckled girl. A rosy-cheeked girl. The rosy-cheeked girl from a week ago with the psychotic, sadistic mother.

Her expression in the sketch was pure ecstasy. It looked like she was screaming, her cheeks shaded dark with water-paint and her hair a reddish-brown, thrown in all sorts of directions. Her eyes wild and erotic. Yearning. Teary. Her pleasure seemed dream-like.

And you looked just as gone. Head tossed back, sweaty with your dick shoved inside her pussy, your nails digging into the soft skin on her hips, small, but deep, bloody scratches following the painful glide of your fingertips that make the red blotches on her backside. There were small doodles of strap-ons and pussies smudged, erased, fixed to perfection that seemed almost manic. Obsessive.

You looked at the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper, a small signature across the bottom of it.

♡GIRLDICK♡

Come back home. Five days.

E.M.

… Come back home? You don’t have a fucking home. And who the fuck is E.M? Your heart was beating against your chest, climbing up your throat in an attempt to escape your body entirely. You couldn’t stop your eyes from flying across the sloppy penmanship.

… ♡GIRLDICK♡

E.M.

♡GIRLDICK♡

… Miller Enterprise.

Miller.

… Freckles.

…. What in the fuck.

It was almost dark, and you were shivering as the wind blew past you.

It had been five days.

You were eyeing the large building in front of you from across the street, a giant M slapped across the top of it, windows galore, hoodie on your head and trembling hands shoved in your pockets.

You could see the last bit of employees trickling out of the building, clad in suits and tight pencil skirts, heavy briefcases and clicking heels.

You could also see the fresh white and black paint covering where your spray-painted dick used to be, and it made you chuckle to yourself. You were almost tempted to recreate it with your new snagged bottle of acrylic. It supposedly glowed in the dark.

But then you saw a dark shadow in the corner of your eye, hurriedly moving past the glass of the entrance.

Your heart raced instantly at the thought of being discovered, and you followed the body's movement. You could see it was Ellie the closer she got to the glass, dressed in a black sweater and comfortable pants, and her same shoes from the court hearing. She looked antsy, a bit on edge, but curious. She was anticipating seeing you.

You could see her messing with the keypad on the door, the loud sounds of locks clicking over the bustling streets. Flashes of red, swiftly replaced with flashes of green shined through the maxi-glass, and she looked around at all the doors. What was she checking for?

She seemed satisfied with her job, and she slid the entry door open, leaving it slightly ajar so she could slip something between it.

She gave one last glance at the system before bolting back inside and down the lengthy hallway before all the hall lights shut off.

Did she… did she just disable all the alarms for you?

Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her.

You ran across the street the second you got a chance, hurdling through traffic before running up onto the sidewalk and treading the stairs.

You looked down and noticed two pens taped together, holding the door open. You picked them up and inspected them, a glossy, silver M near the gel tip.

You stepped inside before anyone noticed, the door automatically shutting behind you before the same green lights came on, a robotic voice confirming that the doors were locked.

You were inside the Miller Enterprise, and you were terrified.

Ellie was so nervous.

She’d been checking her Chanel watch all day, obsessively monitoring the windows to see if anyone that resembled your form had arrived, but she was disappointed every time she looked. No sign of you, yet.

The later it got, the more anxious she became. Did you see the note she left in your bag? Was it too forward? Did you think she was fucking crazy? Did you hate her for what her mother did? She prayed not.

She was currently pacing around her mother’s—father’s—dark office, every step of her shoes echoing in the nearly empty room. She hasn’t been in here since she was seventeen, and it brought just as much anxiety as it did the first time.

This will all be yours when I’m gone, don’t fucking ruin it.

She hated everything about this space. Every aspect of her dad was completely gone. All his pictures, his vinyl, his pens and pencils, his nameplate. Everything. All of it, completely void of emotion.

She hated it, she hated it.

But then she heard a clang in the hallway, and her anxiety picked up even more before she could process it.

She quickly made her way over to the exit, peeking her head through the doorframe and examining the hallway, searching for you. The noise had to be you! You really came! She could feel her nipples getting hard already.

But she saw no one. No one was in the dark hallway.

… Fuck.

Why did she shut the system off? The lights wouldn’t come on!

Her hands instantly got clammy, her heart racing, and her knees shook. She hadn't felt like this since she was a kid, and she was horrified.

Someone’s here to hurt you, someone’s going to come in and hurt you!

You never leave doors unlocked! He always said to lock your doors, never, never, never—

She couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from taking over her entire body, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her father’s switchblade, pressing its latch down to expose the blade. She slammed the door shut and walked over to the large window and tried to steady her breathing. She looked out of the glass and inhaled harshly.

Keep your grip tight when you strike!

Calm down calm down calm down—

“Boo.”

You saw Ellie jump with a hard gasp before spinning to face you, a fearful look on her face and her switchblade in hand, pointed edge towards you.

You could see her chest rise up and down with every shaky breath she took, her body trembling and cheeks flushed. You felt like your body was going to burst into flames, but you hid it, grinning slyly at her as you stepped forward.

Deep breath.

“Hi, Ellie.”

Another step forward. She took two back, nearly pressed against the glass.

“Y-You,” she stuttered as her eyes darted around nervously, and you could see her cheeks flushing in the darkness, “How’d you get in here?”

“I think you know how.”

You shrugged, the contents of your bag shuffling on your back. You pointed towards the large, stretched windows behind her that oversaw the entire city, the hustling streets and lights beaming into the dimly lit room from the last bits of sunset.

“View’s incredible,” your mockery littered in sarcasm. Don’t let her know you’re scared.

She took a bold step forward as her brows furrowed, anger twisting on her doll-like face. You took two, as well. You saw her eyes dart to your feet before meeting your gaze to hiss at you.

“There’re cameras on every floor of this fucking building! I press that button,” She darted her small knife towards the enclosed, red button on the side of the wall, a large print of EMERGENCIES ONLY directly above it. “And every cop in this city’ll show up and take your ass back to the fucking gutter where you’re supposed to be.”

… How the fuck was she going to threaten you when she told you to come here?! What was she playing at?

She pointed her weapon back at you. You ignored your confusion and raised an impressed brow before walking forward without pause, pulling her mother’s chair out from under the desk, the wheels squeaking against the marbled tile. You saw the grip she had on her knife tighten.

You smiled at her. “You’re pretty good with a knife, honey.”

“Fuck you. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“I dunno,” you scoffed, twirling on your heels as you took in the luxurious space around you. “I can bet my bottom ass dollar that you like it.”

Her glare hardened, and your smile brightened. You finally moved to sit in the chair, the plush leather molding against your body and stuffed backpack. You scooted back under the desk and rested your elbows on the hand-carved rosewood, completely calm. At least outwardly. Your insides were jittery from adrenaline.

You quickly inspected the contents of the desk: her mother’s matching rosewood nameplate, some loose paperwork with large sums of money scattered on them, dark pens and markers, and a signed restraining order. With your name on it.

You’re apparently not allowed a hundred feet within the perimeter of the building.

… Funny.

“Press it.”

Her scowl hardened, “What?”

You pointed a lax finger towards the button as you looked up from the document, “I said press it. You want me gone so bad, right?”

She didn’t reply, her fingers fidgeting around the knife as she adjusted her grip. Her eyes nervously flitted across the room, all over the white floors, back on you.

“You’re not gonna press the fucking button.” You spat with a devilish smile. “And I know why.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “

“You paid my bail.”

You heard her release a shaky exhale when you sliced through her words, her eyes widening in shock like she saw through you, and you knew you had her. Your smile widened as your nails pattered where you tapped on the desk.

“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?”

Her throat moved as she swallowed, and you almost laughed.

You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that kept you company in your small cot during your restless nights, unfolding it and holding up the explicit depiction that she left in your bag days ago. You pressed her as you swung the chair with your foot, “Think somebody’s got a little crush. Mommy’s gonna be so upset with you.”

“FUCK YOU!” She marched towards you until she was in front of the desk, her scent enclosing around you before you felt the incredibly sharp blade against the side of your neck, and you stiffened in terror. You looked at her in shock, studying her expression. She looked pissed, but you saw… something in her eyes that made your core squeeze tight.

It was vulgar, needy, and you hoped she missed your body’s excited shudder at her crude rage.

She didn’t. Curiosity shone behind her lust and fiery, her enraged shrieks shook your eardrums.

“You’re fucking worthless! You really think anyone’s gonna care about you rotting in a fucking cell?! You’re… you’re nothing! You’re a low life! You’re… you’re! —“

You deadened your own eyes as you slowly moved to stand, but she pressed the knife deeper into your skin as she leaned over the desk, your faces closer together. You stiffened and felt a sting on your skin, and a drop of wetness. Your pussy squeezed, and you could feel sweat looking under your jacket.

“Gonna kill me, Ellie?” You glared at her, your heart pounding with fear and exhilaration.

Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!

Her eyes were vengeful as she scanned your face, but you saw that glint grow behind the harsh overcast. Something you craved just as badly as she did.

“Really want mommy to see her precious girl killing somebody on camera? Hm?”

“She,” her breath shuddered. “wouldn’t give a fuck if it were you, I promise.”

You barely whispered your reply as you leaned even closer, your nipples hardening under your sports bra and your underwear clinging to your wetness.

“Then do it.”

The heavy breaths she released hit your face in a burning wind, and your core tightened once more. You could see the aggression on her face slowly dissipate, that giddy sparkle in her eye overtaking her pupils as they darkened.

You felt the cold steel pull away from you slowly, her hand coming down on the desk, — unfortunate— and it threw you into action.

Your hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the sides, and you heard the clatter of the object as it hit the wood. You heard her suck in a choked breath as her eyes glossed over, suddenly desperate and wanton and scared like you’d been seconds before. She looked like a neglected kitten, and it made you hold her neck in tighter constriction.

She whimpered aloud as she attempted to gasp, her hand coming up to grab your wrist, but you snatched it away with your free hand, and it limply dropped to the desk, her body submitting.

You leaned in closer to her, and her eyes squeezed shut, lips puckered, silently begging for you to kiss her. You snickered.

You let her neck go and slammed your palm across her blushing cheek, a loud crack! filling the room.

She cried aloud, looking like she was about to burst into tears as she jumped off the desk and backed away from you, her hand pressed against her searing cheek. You rose to your feet and circled around the desk, rushing towards her until she was pressed up against the window. Tears were running down her face. You shoved her closer against the glass, grabbing her cheeks to force her to look at you.

“You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? I got a little fan, is that it?”

“N-No— “

“Yeah, I do. Fuckin’ stalker. Probably gotta whole shrine t’me in your fucking room. Does mommy know that you worship me? The lowlife who fucked up her building?” You snapped at her.

She flinched at your tone before she choked out a gasped sob, “I j-just liked what you m-made.”

“Stop crying, Ellie.”

She nodded as she sniffled, wiping the tears off her cheeks. You grasp loosened on her cheeks as you cupped her face, your thumb brushing away the wetness on her already bruising skin. You noticed how she leaned into your caress. It made your heart jolt.

“Look at me,” you whispered.

She hesitantly met your eyes.

“You wanna kiss me?”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, and you saw her fist clench.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”

You hummed in satisfaction, inching closer towards her like you did previously. She stiffened but shut her eyes tightly, her plush lips poking out in a pucker once more as your noses touched. You chuckled and whispered, your lips brushing against hers as you spoke.

“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”

She sighed out an uneven nuh uh, her mouth chasing yours. You grinned wider.

“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?”

She whined out a needy uh huuuh!

You stuck your tongue out, slowly running the wet muscle over her lower lip, and you felt her whole body tremble against yours. She brainlessly stuck her tongue out to lick yours, but you pulled back. She tried to follow you, but you yanked her head back by the small bun at the back of her head, the soft strands curling around your fist.

She let out a moan, and your tongue licked up her exposed throat, leaving a trail of spit up her chin, all the way to her mouth.

You relented and connected your mouths, and she let out a shocked noise into your mouth. You slipped your tongue in her gaping mouth, wet, smacking noises filling the room as you kissed her hotly. She couldn’t keep up with your quick movements, her lips and tongue moving sloppily against yours. Her spit was all over the outside of your mouth.

You felt her hands come up to your hips to grip your jacket in a tight fist as she moaned into your mouth.

The noises she let out were so sweet: little, excited gasps and whiny keens as she tried to pull you closer.

You released her hair and grabbed her chin to move her head to the side. You kissed down her neck, and she jerked against you. Her breaths increased in pace as you pecked her sweaty skin, lapping your tongue all over the side.

You sucked into the skin under her ear, right under her jaw, pulling her sweater down to mark her collarbone.

“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “

You mumbled in between gentle sucks, “What, Ellie? Talk.”

You felt her hands grab your hips tighter, but she said nothing. You pushed her hands off you roughly and looked at her with piercing eyes. She shrunk into herself when she met them.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You understand?”

She nodded quickly.

“So fucking talk,” you gritted out.

“Want,” she whispered with a sharp gasp. “Want you.”

You smirked, “You want me?”

“Mmhm!”

You shoved your backpack off your shoulders, the thud echoing when it hit the floor.

“Want me to do what?”

She paused before looking down at her feet again, twiddling and picking at her fingers as her face burned red.

“Um…”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, but you felt her hand grab your wrist and you stopped. You looked at her in annoyance.

She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky.

But then she slowly brought your hand in between her legs.

She shivered as she placed her hand on top of yours, making you rub her cunt back and forth. She released pleased sighs as her lashes fluttered, her head falling back against the window as she looked at you up and down.

“P-Please?” She licked her lips. “Wan’you here.”

You scoffed in shock, and her thighs squeezed down on both your hands. You pressed your palm closer against her, and her hips bucked into you.

You moved closer to her, your clothed chests pressed together.

“Move your hand,” you spoke quietly, just for her to hear even though you were alone.

She dropped it limply. You pressed your palm into her covered clit, and she moaned.

You leaned in, your lips brushing her cheek as you spoke.

“Baby just wanted her pussy touched? That’s why you acted out earlier?”

She didn’t speak as she panted heavily. You brought your hand up to slap her cheek again, and she released a pained cry as her hips twitched.

“Talk!”

“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”

“Tell me where.” You brought your hand back down to her pussy as fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”

You leered at her soft face. “Yeah? I get t’choose?”

She nodded quickly, her eyes screaming touch me, please! Make me cum!

“Open your mouth, honey. Stick your tongue out.”

She mewled softly, but did what you asked, her shiny, pink muscle glistening under the beaming city lights.

You brought your hand up, rubbing your index and middle finger on her soft tongue.

“Get ‘em wet.”

She hummed as she sucked them into her mouth with no hesitation. You felt her tongue messily swirl around your digits as she sighed contently, and you pressed an encouraging peck on her cheek.

You slowly fucked your fingers in, pulling them out, only to push them back in again. You almost awwed aloud when she chased your digits every time you pulled out. She was already drooling for them.

You pressed her tongue down as you fucked in, and she gagged on them. Her eyes shot open and they instantly watered, her throat tightening around you.

“Bet you suck a mean dick,” you muttered before you could stop yourself.

She moaned loudly as you fucked deeper into her mouth, pressing down on the back of her tongue.

“Oh, yeah? Want mine down that pretty throat?”

She garbled and nodded as much as she could with your fast thrusts in her mouth. You couldn’t wait to fuck it open.

“Snooped through my shit, didn’t you? Saw my fucking cock and creamed yourself? That’s why you bought me new shit?”

You saw her bring a hand down to touch her pussy, her hips bucking into her own hand, chasing any stimulation. You grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her.

You finally eased up on her throat and pulled out completely, lines of slobber connecting your fingers and her mouth together. You cut them with your own tongue, her spit clinging to the edges of your mouth.

You planted a smacking kiss on her lips before you shoved your hand down her dark, flared pants and into her boxers.

She squealed when you immediately found her clit with your spit covered fingers, the slippery bud sliding between your already drippy fingers. You watched her hand fly to the white windowsill for balance as your hand went wild on her cunt.

“Such a wet fucking pussy. Feels good, baby?”

Her brows creased as she nodded, her body rocking with your movements. “A-Ah! —“

“Uh huh. You touch yourself like this when mommy’s at work? Hm?”

Her head shamefully jerked in confirmation. You could see her now: her pretty legs spread on her plush bed, her sopping pussy squeezing at the thought of you fucking her just how she needed. She’d be grabbing at her tits as she flicked her clit, desperate to cum all over her blankets for you. Your pussy was so wet.

“You think about me when you do it?” You knew the answer, but you needed her to say it. Confirm that she thought about you just as much as you thought about her.

“Yes! Yes, yes!”

“Fucking whore, no wonder she hates your guts.”

She moaned louder at your degradation. “S’c—coming! “

Your fingers were practically vibrating on her cunt, her clit thumping as her orgasm built. “Get my fingers nice’n sloppy, angel, c’mon— “

She reached down to grab your wrist as she jumped on your fingers, but before you could slap her, her body tensed, and her eyes rolled into her skull. You felt her clit pulsate under your touch, and you knew she was cumming.

“Fuckmemommy!”

You couldn’t stop the shock that appeared on your face as you watched her thrash on your hand, gasping out, asking you to please fuck me, mommy! Need you to fuck me!

You just massaged her through it, pressing your hips up against hers so she couldn’t run from your touch.

“Wan’mommy to fuck you, angel?” you mumbled in your daze as your pussy dripped, your brain barely registering what you just said.

“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “

“Fuck, baby, need mommy inside you?” Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“M-Mhhm!—“

“Gimme your leg,” You lifted it up with your free hand, bringing it up so it came around your waist.

You slid your fingers down to her twitchy entrance and slipped the tip of your pointer finger inside. You almost moaned at how her walls clung to you, sucking you in deeper, milking you.

“Tightest fuckin’ pussy,” you mumbled to her, and she whimpered when your finger arched inside her. You prodded around until she slumped against you, pushing her hips down on your finger. You leaned in, your lips brushing her ear as you cooed right there? yeah? feels fuckin’ good?

She couldn’t even speak. She just plopped her head onto your shoulder and sloppily kissed your neck. Your cunt clenched and you flinched when her soft tongue licked into the small slit she made earlier. You heard her hum as her tongue swiped a line from your collarbone to your cut; She was licking your blood up like a fucking dog!

It made you punch that spot in her harder, and she cried out against your skin, her nails digging into your forearm.

You slowly pushed your middle finger in, and she sobbed as she stretched around you. You arched your thumb out to rub her clit as you poked that spongy spot in her pussy; She was so loud for you.

“Like when I touch you there?”

“I like it, like it s’much!” You felt her nodding mindlessly against you.

“Gonna cum on me again?” you spat at her.

“Fuck yes!”

“Know you’re gonna cum hard, can’t even fuck you like I wanna, squeezing me so tight.”

You dug your fingers as deep and fast into her as her cunt would allow. Her walls were choking the fuck out of you, practically screaming for them to stay where you were pressed inside her. How the fuck was she going to take you fully?!

The thought of breaking her open made you shake, “Gonna make this pussy take me. Can’t wait t’give you this fucking dick.”

Then she started screaming out for you, trying to get you closer, wrapping her arms around you, her leg dropping onto the floor. “Ohgodohgodohgod, m’cumming, mommy, I’mcu—AH!”

You almost fell back when she went limp on you, her knees buckling as her slick coated your fingers, your palm, her panties. You used your weight to push her back against the window, her head thudding against the glass like before, but she seemed too engulfed in her desire to care. You almost brought your hand up to comfort her sore spot, anyway, but you stopped yourself.

You took her in: practically dangling off you as she wailed from orgasm, her face beat red, the bun at the back of her head almost loose, her eyelids fluttering. You sneered at her, a nasty grin on your face.

“Atta girl, so excited for cock, ain’t she?”

She could only grind out yesyesyes between her teeth, her fingers still squeezing down on you as you rubbed her clit, her orgasm slowing down.

“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?”

“W’na make… mommy cum!” she nodded like a bobblehead as she slurred.

“Yeah? Want mommy’s cum in your mouth?”

She wept desperately, “Yes, please, need it!”

You grinned, catching a glimpse of your desperate reflection in the mirror. You’re so glad she was too fucked out to notice.

“C’mon, honey.”

Ellie stood in front of you as you sat in her mother’s chair, her shoes kicked off.

Your bag was tossed next to you as you stared at her, noting her fidgeting stance. She wasn’t looking at you, at all. She was looking down, specifically at your occupied hands.

You’d picked up her discarded knife from the table, inspecting its rusty, scratched design, slightly bloody blade, retraction. You couldn’t stop fiddling with it.

“W-What’re gonna do with that?” You heard her ask.

You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”

“It was my dad’s.” Her voice went sharp.

“What kinda father lets his baby play with such sharp objects?” You said in between sarcastic snickers.

“He’s fucking dead, who cares.”

You finally looked up at her sharp tone, examining her tense face, and your playful smile slowly dropped. She tried to appear as if mentioning it didn’t bother her, but you recognized that look in her eye from anywhere. Grief fucking sucks, no matter how much time passed.

“… Hm.”

You looked down at the blade again, then back up at her, “He taught you how to… handle it?”

She shrugged, her brows raising as her arms crossed over her chest. You nodded.

Your arm was suddenly incredibly itchy. “Mine taught me how to… draw n’stuff.”

You looked off to the side awkwardly as you reminisced on the first pack of colored pencils he’d bought you. You remembered how particular he was about the art utensils and their conditions. You didn’t realize that he was trying to ensure their quality because he couldn’t afford another pack until you got older.

Always make sure these bastards are sharpened! That’s true precision!

“… Cool,” you heard her say, and you looked at her, “Were you guys, uh, close?”

“Mhm,” You nodded stiffly, and silence surrounded the two of you. Ellie awkwardly nodded as she stared at the floor, and your lips twitched before you turned to stare out the window.

Some time passed in pure silence before you heard her speak.

“… Still wanna, uh… D’you still wanna fuck?”

You looked at her as she fumblingly scratched the back of her head. Her eyes met yours as her ears burned. You grinned as your shoulders rose.

“Up to you.”

“Like… I still wanna if you do,” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

You leaned back in her mom’s seat.

“Ellie.”

The deep tone of your voice made her look up, her eyes shining like crystals as her arms dropped to her sides.

“Yes?”

“… C’mere.”

She moved, her sock-covered feet padding on the floor until she was in front of you.

You looked up at her, your hand coming up to play with the hem of her sweater.

You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.”

She grabbed the back of her top and lifted it over her head, her bare chest jiggling with her movements. She tossed the fabric to the floor.

You eyed her chest like you were going to swallow her whole, her perky nipples urging you to reach out and pull on them. Her pussy is so fucking sensitive; Were her nipples just as bad? Worse? Could she cum just from you touching them? Fuck, she probably could—

“Are they… Do you like them?”

Her soft whisper cut through your gawking. You met her eyes through your lashes as she squirmed in front of you.

Your hands came up to grab her hips, massaging them gently.

“Yeah, baby. They’re so pretty, fit you perfectly.”

She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.”

You planted a soft kiss to her tummy as you looked at your thumb around the elastic of her pants to pull them down.

Her stomach jerked with every sharp breath as your lips moved on her bare skin. You felt her hand come up to your shoulder to grasp it as she stepped out of her pants.

Your hands traveled upward to grab both her tits in a rough squeeze. She wheezed and arched her back so you could get closer. You heard her murmur a quiet fuckme, and you looked up. She was watching your every move with wide, curious eyes. You held her gaze as you licked up her torso, and she whimpered.

You brought your hands back down to grab the back of her thighs, moving her closer to your lap. She placed her hands on your shoulders as she climbed on top of you, and you sucked her nipple into your mouth.

She grinded down onto you and moaned, and your eyes fluttered shut. Your tongue made circular movements on the pert bud, and you hummed at the taste of her soft skin. Her head fell forward as she gasped right in your ear, and it made you suck on her hard.

Her hips were jerking on top of you, trying to fuck down onto your clothed thigh as her nails plunged into your back.

“Feels so… mmh!”

You brought your hand back up to her other tit and played with her nipple with your fingers.

And then you slapped it. Hard.

She let out a sharp squeak and mindlessly bounced on top of your leg; You could feel a slight dampness building on your jeans, and you scoffed at her, sneering when you pulled away. You hit her other tit just as hard, your spit transferring onto your palm.

“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “

Smack!

“Yes!”

SMACK!

She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”

You reached up to slap her face before pulling her hair to the side with a tight fist.

You quickly grabbed her switchblade off the desk and unlatched the blade, the sharp edge popping up. You instantly pressed it to her neck, and she choked on a ragged pant.

The lust in her eyes was accompanied by fear, and you grinned.

“Don’t get scared now. You were waving it around earlier. So ready to fight, huh?”

She shuddered, rutting down on your leg again, and you pressed the sharp edge into her skin harder. Her eyes shut tight, and two fat tears fell down her cheeks. She nearly bounced on you.

“I could fuck you up right here, you know that, right?”

“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”

You moved the knife away and released her hair, slapping her in the face again. “Shut the fuck up, you nearly slit my fuckin’ throat and now you wanna fuck. I should leave right now, fucking brat.”

She sobbed, “Nonono, please don’t leave, mommy don’t go, m’sorryI’m— “

“Mommy, don’t go!” you mocked. “Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

You kept the blade pressed against her jugular as she clumsily shuffled to the floor, her cries shaking her body.

“You wanna apologize?” She nodded jerkily, minding the silver edge on her vein.

“Yeah? Wanna make mommy feel better?” You said with a mean pout.

“Mhm!”

You sloppily kicked your boots off and shoved them under the desk.

“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”

She moved quickly, unbuttoning and tugging your jeans and underwear down your legs as she sniffled. She yanked them off with a hard tug, and her eagerness made you giggle as you lifted your hips. You unzipped your jacket and pulled it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor, leaving you in your black tank top. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of a grin on her face as she eyed your breasts before she dived towards your cunt.

You shoved the knife closer against her, and you saw blood pool at the edge of the blade. She looked up at you with an anxious expression.

“I didn’t say you could touch me. Ask nicely.”

She looked confused as she mumbled brokenly, “Ask you what?”

Your brows furrowed at her, “My mistake. You probably never had to ask for shit in your life.”

Her bruised cheeks glowed red as she looked down in embarrassment.

You grinned slyly. “Say, mommy, may I eat your pussy, please?”

Shock overtook her expression before she rolled her eyes at you and looked to the side.

“You’re fucking cra— “

You yanked her dark hair back and pointed the end of the blade against her bruised jaw. Her ragged breaths hit your face.

“Say it.”

“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily.

“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.”

She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered.

You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”

You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.”

You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store.

“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”

She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.

“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?”

Her mouth dropped open in submission.

“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?”

You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead.

“Yes, baby, you may.”

You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours.

You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight.

“Want me t’show you how?”

She nodded intensely.

You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head.

“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.”

She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,

and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.

You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you.

“Wanna taste, Ellie?”

“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out.

“Lick me, then, honey.”

She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there.

“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out.

She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks.

“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes.

You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls.

“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”

She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit.

She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!

“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “

“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you.

“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“

She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”

You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room.

“Ellie.”

“Mommym’gonnacum— “

“I swear to g— “

“S’so wet, oh god, please!”

SMACK!

Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin.

You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck.

“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass.

She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “

SMACK!

She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning.

“Motherfuc— “

SMACK!

You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint.

You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.

“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.

“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!”

“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.”

You pulled away and walked towards your discarded

bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail.

Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk.

You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you.

“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.”

Shock appeared on her face.

“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.

“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”

“I’m not sca— “

“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.”

She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you.

And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle.

“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.

She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her.

She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth.

“Nasty slut, goddamn— “

She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.

You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag.

“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.

She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard.

You pulled out and let her go.

She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.

“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position.

“Get up.”

“Fuck you,” she spluttered.

“I’m gonna. Get up.”

Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.

“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand.

“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”

“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”

She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “

You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking.

“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.”

“I-It’s pretty?”

“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder.

You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling.

“Taste like fucking honey.”

“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation.

“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness.

“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.

“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.”

She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back.

You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”

“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”

“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.

The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench.

You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her.

You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”

“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.

“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.

“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”

“Yeah, baby? It hurts?”

“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“

You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.

“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “

“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?”

“Yeah, mommy!”

You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name.

“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “

You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling.

“Feelin’ good?”

She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”

“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”

You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her.

“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again.

You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit.

The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “

“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder.

“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again.

“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy.

She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up.

You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it.

She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips.

But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!

You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria.

It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.

You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still.

“Look at it, baby— “

She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.

You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”

She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“

“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust.

“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”

“Fuuuck— “

“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “

“M-Mommy!”

“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”

“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”

You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “

She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear.

“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”

She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her.

She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you.

You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips.

You both caught your breaths in soothing silence.

After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down.

You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.

“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”

Her brows creased, “Like what?”

“Like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you.

You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.

“Stop doing that, just relax.”

“… What’d I do?”

You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”

You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?”

You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”

You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.”

You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes.

You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?”

“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache.

You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart.

Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you.

Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.

Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “

“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes.

You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.

Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest.

“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.

You smirked, “I know, take your time.”

She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction.

She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing.

“Okay?” you checked in.

She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”

“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.”

“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked.

Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you.

Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench.

“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?”

“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips.

Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.

She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft.

She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “

Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “

She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires.

Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!

Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her.

“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “

“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”

She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you.

You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you.

You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think.

You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately.

She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick.

“T-Turn around, Ellie.”

“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate.

“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.

“O-Okay.”

She was too fucking close.

She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again.

She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock.

You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you.

You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her.

“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”

You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state.

You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “

“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.

“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.

“Fuck—fuckyes!”

“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “

Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you.

She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.

You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back.

Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face.

You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic.

You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily.

She was too close. Too fucking close.

The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you.

You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.

You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.

“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle.

“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments.

You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “

“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her.

She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “

“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”

Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?”

You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?

“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.”

You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in.

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?”

Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault.

But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive.

But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob.

“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right.

You were worthless. Held no value in this society.

In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.

“You won’t.”

You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will.

Maybe in another life.

hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE

this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit

don’t hate me too much?

omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly

thank u 4 reading if u did :3

hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams angst #ceosdaughter!ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #lesbian #ellie williams x you #works 𖧧࣪

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lazycats-stuff · 4 months

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Can you do a teen reader (younger than Damian by 1 or 2 years) x batfam, where he is spider man? (I mean kinda like miles morales, he has electricity powers but his webs are organic too and doesn’t need a web shooters.) he is Bruce’s biological child and his mother died, yk his canon event and what not. So he has to move to Gotham and isn’t happy about. Just distant and all. One night He sneaked out and bought a train ticket and went to New York, and was only spider man and just slept in somewhere. So the batfamily tracked him to New York, and while looking for him, they bump into him as spider man. They have to team up to find a villian but reafer gets hurt in the end and his mask fell off and they see it’s reader? They bring him and just have a talk when he wakes up and they come to conclusion for him to join the family in their fighting in Gotham?

Oh, that sounds good. Yes... Also, 2.7k words and so sorry for taking so long to write this... Hope you enjoy. I changed it a little bit, so my apologies, but I got into my writing spirit lol.

Summary: (Y/N) is Spiderman. The fam doesn't know that.

Warnings: (Y/N)'s mom passes away, funeral, sad (Y/N), he loves his city, angst, running away, fighting with Green Goblin.

(Y/N) had a great life in New York. He was very happy in his city. He lived with his mom and everything was fine. Okay, he did get bitten by a radioactive spider and got cool powers with it. Did it cause some troubles? Oh yeah. Electricity was a bit problematic to control, but he managed.

Did he get grounded because of it? His mom sure thought so. His dad visited with the rest of his brothers every month. (Y/N) understood why he couldn't come more. Being a CEO and all that stuff, (Y/N) really understood. He didn't love Bruce any less. Bruce was involved in his life, which was nice.

He loved his brothers and father, more than anything in this world. Alfred was the best though. Whenever he came, he would bring his food and (Y/N) and his mom would enjoy it too, often asking for recipes. Or they would exchange recipes.

All of those were very fun times. And his time as Spiderman. He really loved it. He loved patrolling and helping the people and maybe get a hot dog from the stands that worked through the night. He loved it all. It was nice that his webs were natural and they, like mentioned before, they also came with electricity.

His enemies hated him, but (Y/N) loved being Spiderman. He loved what he represented in New York and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world. He is a New Yorker through and through.

But life decided to be a bitch and strike that luck and happiness.

(Y/N)'s mom passed away. She was hit by a drunk driver. The worst thing is, the driver survived. When Bruce got the news, he got into the car and drove to New York. (Y/N) was told just before Bruce came and (Y/N) felt his soul shatter.

He broke down in Bruce's arms, crying and screaming. It took him a while to calm down, but he couldn't stay alone. Bruce knew that and he knew that going back to Gotham was not an option now. At all. Bruce called Alfred and explained everything and told him that he would stay to arrange the funeral.

Alfred understood and the brother called (Y/N), wishing that they could be there. (Y/N) thanked them for it and then sat up all night, unable to sleep. Bruce tried to comfort him in the best way possible, but it was difficult. Bruce's former fling, (Y/N)'s mom, was the most important person to (Y/N). Without a doubt.

Bruce knew that he would have to bury her in New York, otherwise his son would have raised hell. Without a doubt. After funeral, (Y/N) would have to move to Gotham. Which is another problem on its own. Bruce didn't know that (Y/N) was Spiderman and (Y/N) didn't know that Bruce was Batman.

Match made in hell, so to say.

The funeral was held a few days after the incident and (Y/N) thought that New York cried with him. The sky was dark and the rain was falling. (Y/N) was torn. There were way to many people who were saying sorry and while he appreciated the care and worry, he just wanted to say goodbye on his own.

His brothers have stood it with him. (Y/N) didn't even have the courage to be next to the grave, while they lowered it, but Bruce held him hand through it, keeping him close to him during the entire process.

At the end, he found some strength and came closer, allowing the rain to soak him. It felt appropriate. When she was lowered, (Y/N) threw a rose in there and wiped his eyes. He took a deep breath as they started putting dirt over her coffin and (Y/N) never felt so mad. Why did this happen to him? To him out of all people?!

Bruce recognized that look in (Y/N)'s eyes. He knew that rage, sadness and frustration in his eyes. It was going to be difficult to let go and have a new life in Gotham. But (Y/N) had to try. He had to put some effort.

" (Y/N), we have to go. " Bruce said gently as he shielded his son from the rain with an umbrella. (Y/N) kept looking as the coffin got buried under the dirt. He swallowed before nodding and following Bruce to the car.

" Why do I have to go to Gotham? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce sighed as he started driving.

" We have been over this. I have a company there and your brothers are there. I know you don't want to leave, I know that, but you have no choice. " Bruce explained as he drove and (Y/N) turned away from him, biting down on his tongue so that he wouldn't lash out against Bruce.

" I know you are not happy, but you will be happy in Gotham. "

" Sure. In a city ran by a clown and a bat. Sounds like heaven. " (Y/N) said sarcastically.

" It's actually a nice city once you live in it long enough. "

(Y/N) huffed, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to lash out at his father, he really didn't. His dad was doing something he needed and Bruce wasn't at fault.

It was the driver's fault.

But he was pissed and he just wanted to be alone. Bruce saw it and didn't say anything, driving back to Gotham. It was the most awkward drive Bruce has ever done in his life. The hour was quiet and once they parked in the yard of the manor, (Y/N) took a bag with his personal stuff, his Spiderman suit included, and made a beeline for his room.

He ran past everybody and they all looked at him with sad looks.

" Do you think he will be better soon? " Dick asked, glancing at Bruce.

" I don't know Dick. He is sensitive and he will need some time to process it. I don't think I can even introduce him to our line of work. He found justice, they got the driver. " Bruce said as he rubbed his chin and the boys had to agree to a certain agree.

" He just needs some time. The first few days are the toughest. He will get better as times passes. " Alfred said as he took one of the boxes out.

Those few days have passed and (Y/N) didn't really feel good. He didn't like the fact he is starting a new school year here, without his friends and a sense of familiarity. He would have to start a new, without... He cried a lot during the time and he just wore black. Alfred had to make sure he ate and Bruce was there to comfort him and make sure he is okay.

Another thing that was painful, alongside his mother's death was the fact that he couldn't be Spiderman. He couldn't go out, he couldn't save his fellow New Yorkers or chat with them. He saw the news talking about his absence and he wanted nothing more than to go back to New York.

Nothing more.

But... There is a problem called big brothers plus a dad.

They were always around, watching him. Always popping in his room to make sure he is okay and not hungry, knowing that eating wasn't easy. Everyone popped in to make sure he is okay. (Y/N) was sure they thought he would hurt himself somehow, but he wasn't doing that.

He would often sit down in his room, when he knew that his family was on patrol, he would take his suit out. He would watch the spider symbol, wishing he could be back in New York. Gotham was nothing compared to New York. New York was much better, still is better than this city. New York is alive, vibrant, full of colors.

And then you have Gotham.

But (Y/N) has had enough after 2 weeks. With a little bit sneaking around, he managed to buy a ticket, his suit underneath the normal clothes he was wearing. While his family was on patrol, he sneaked out and made his way to the station to leave. He was happy, but it was bitter sweet. It would remind him of the things he loved and yet... It would remind him of his mother.

He had actually had some money left for a few flowers to lay on her grave... (Y/N) put his head on the window, watching the scenery change. Left his phone at home so that they couldn't track him, so he spent his time looking out the window and stretching.

After a few hours, (Y/N) has arrived. He smiled as he saw his city. He took a deep breath in and walked around, just remembering the time in his city.

" My apologies New York. " (Y/N) mumbled as he started walking to the cemetery. It would be a long walk, but he had time. He really did. Once he came, the flower shop was open and he has paid with cash, making it difficult to track him. After getting a beautiful bouquet he walked to his mom's grave. He put them down and smiled...

Bittersweet beyond belief.

He kept knelt down on one knee, smiling at the gravestone. He smiled and wiped some of his tears away, not wanting to cry.

" Hey mom. I'm back. Dad wanted me to move, but I think I will stay here. " (Y/N) said as he got up and started walking to his apartment. He missed it, he really did. He could only hope that it's unlocked, but his neighbor had an extra key. He knew it.

And she loved him.

While (Y/N) was happy, the family wasn't really paying attention whether or not (Y/N) was in his room. They were thinking that he has slept. They couldn't have been more wrong about it. (Y/N) already had a whole night ahead of him as an advantage.

Alfred went to check and a few minutes later and he called out for Bruce in a panic. Everyone dropped the cutlery and ran upstairs to see if their butler was safe. Jason and Tim nearly tumbled over one another more than once. Damian jumped in first, ready to fight with the non existent intruder.

They were all shocked to see that there was no intruder. Another problem? There was no (Y/N). Jason checked the bathroom.

" Not in here. " He declared, closing the door.

Bruce wondered what the hell happened. Oh no. Where is he?

" Did anyone see him? " Bruce asked his sons, leaning on the wall.

" No... I thought he was in here. " Tim said as he looked out the window. " Where is he even? " Tim wondered. Bruce pondered for a moment.

" Lets go to the cave and check the cameras. " Bruce said as he pushed himself off of the wall. Everyone followed and soon, they were looking through the cameras.

They all paled when they saw that he went to the city. Bruce pulled all of the cameras he could and thanked God for facial recognition. He pulled it all to find (Y/N).

" Why did he escape? " Dick wondered out aloud. Was it the fact that they were checking on him too much? Was he smothered? Did they smother him?

" Shit. " Jason said next to Bruce as the two watched the screen. Everyone turned their heads to look at the screen. A train station. Bruce connected it.

" He went to New York. " Bruce said as he tracked (Y/N)'s phone.

" What the hell? " Tim wondered out loud.

Everyone frowned when the location turned out to be the manor. Everyone was now worried.

" He has to be in New York. He has to be. " Damian declared and everyone had to agree with it. They knew that (Y/N) coming here wasn't his choice and that he wanted to stay back in New York. Bruce couldn't blame (Y/N) for any of it, nobody could blame (Y/N) for trying to run to New York.

" He has an entire night as an advantage. " Damian said and everyone has agreed with him. That is one hell of an advantage.

" I'm not sure whether or not to be proud. " Bruce said, trying not to smile.

" A mixture of both. He passed the security. " Jason mumbled and Bruce chuckled.

" Yeah, I have to be a mixture of both. Lets do some more investigating and then lets go to New York at night. " Bruce said and everyone nodded.

(Y/N) has had fun during the day, but it seems that Green Goblin wasn't happy with the fact that he was gone out of their city. The fight has been going on for a while and (Y/N) was slowly getting exhausted. Ever so slowly.

(Y/N) knew that he couldn't lose his cool now. That's something that Green Goblin wanted him to do this entire fight. Green Goblin was taunting him and by God, (Y/N) was ready to kill. His wrists were hurting like never before.

He was ready to strike once more when he saw a familiar face. His dad and his brothers. Oh God. Were they all looking for him. They landed near him and (Y/N) swore that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He really thought so.

" Hey Spidey, you need help? " Dick, well, Nightwing asked and (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders. " Could use some backup. " (Y/N) said, voice breathy.

" Arch nemesis? " Damian, well, Robin asked.

" Yup. "

" Sounds tough. " Dick said and (Y/N) got ready to strike once more. He saw an opening and took it.

(Y/N) was struck and he flew back onto the rooftop and something fell of as he landed. He couldn't pinpoint it, but every part of him screamed that something was wrong. He froze when he saw his father, covering them both with his big cape.

" (Y/N), why didn't you tell us? Is this why you didn't want to leave? " Bruce asked, glancing at his son, trying to see if he was injured.

" I... I didn't know how to... " (Y/N) admitted shyly, looking away from his dad.

" I'm not blaming you. But we have to talk about this later. We can't just leave it like this. Put on your mask and lets finish this. " Bruce said with a firm voice and (Y/N) nodded as he did so and with the help from Bruce, got up.

" Lets get the bastard. " (Y/N) said with so much determination and Bruce smiled proudly. He really is his son with that much determination.

The fight was tiring beyond belief, but the Batfamily was determined and persistent. And Green Goblin wasn't expecting the back up that (Y/N) has gotten out of nowhere. Soon, Green Goblin was taken into custody. Now it was all good. All good.

If you remember that (Y/N)'s family was still there, waiting to talk to him. He didn't really want to talk, he just wanted to avoid it. He didn't want to. By God, he wanted to go to sleep. But he knew that talk would happen eventually.

" Now, " Bruce started as he glanced at everyone. " I'm not mad you, but... You could have told us. We told you. " (Y/N) tried to say something, but Bruce stopped him. " Now, what happened happened. However, you can use your talents back in Gotham. "

(Y/N) shifted on his feet, nervous about it.

" No need to worry (Y/N). " Jason started, hands on his hips. " NYPD is more capable than GCPD. "

Everyone laughed at it. To some extent it's true, but (Y/N) wasn't convinced.

" You don't have to lose your Spider symbol. You can keep being Spiderman. You can be a spider and the rest can be birds. " Bruce said as he put his hand on (Y/N) shoulder.

" It's difficult to leave my city behind. " (Y/N) admitted and Bruce nodded in sympathy. The brothers hugged their brother, hugging him tightly.

They all were saying something, but (Y/N) couldn't understand. But he knew that they were all saying something positive.

" Now, lets go home and get you situated. " Bruce said and (Y/N) just looked at the sun.

" It weird to see you guys in this time of the day. " (Y/N) mumbled as he was led to the Batmobile. Everyone laughed at that. It was true. He really didn't want to leave New York city, but he knew that he could help them in Gotham.

He knew it would work out in the end.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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jakethesequel · 1 year

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Welcome back to Tumblr's Poorest Wettest Saddest Littlest Meow Meow Competition! Before we announce the final verdict, let's see how our "lovely" contestants are doing backstage!

VRISKA SERKET, hailing from welcoming Homestuck, is in the blue corner! She's a TROLL, a TELEPATH, and a THIEF. She has also attained GODHOOD, and I'm informed she did nothing wrong! Just off the heels of a dramatic loss in the recent Tumblrwoman Election, she deeply resents being trapped in this narrative device!

Her attire today is plain by Earth standards, but well put-together by ALTERNIAN ones. Nevertheless, she has been known to dress up on occasion, particularly in the colors of her ANCESTOR, the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang!

She is extraordinarily determined, and extremely manipulative. She will do anything she can to make herself into the hero her story needs, consequences be damned. Her actions have made her the source of eternal, vitriolic discourse. Some believe her entirely justified, some believe her a heartless villain, and others believe everything in between; every one steadfast and passionate about their specific stance! Love her or hate her: VRISKA!!!!!!!!

HARRIER DU BOIS, also known as HARRY, sometimes referring to himself as RAPHAEL AMBROSIUS COSTEAU or THE REINCARNATION OF KRAS MAZOV, is here representing scenic Disco Elysium! He is a DETECTIVE, an ALCOHOLIC, a recent AMNESIAC, and a WASTE of ENERGY. Having just recently recovered from an attempt at drinking himself to death, we thought inviting him to compete might raise his spirits some! Unfortunately he does not seem to be totally aware of his surroundings, as he has already tried to touch himself twice on air!

His garish and mismatched clothes are STAINED with seemingly every substance a human body can produce. His face is locked in an EXPRESSION that can only induce disgust and discomfort in those who view it.

The few memories he can draw from his fractured mind paint him as violent, selfish, cruel, and pitiful. He has been trying to get over a breakup for six years, and has only partially succeeded through near-total retrograde amnesia. Worst of all, he's still somehow a decently successful cop. He has no friends and few allies on Revachol, with perhaps the sole exception of the impossibly patient and composed Lt. Kim Katsuragi. Even among his fans, you'd be hard pressed to find one who'd defend him, and ever harder pressed to find one willing to stand in the same room as him. Nevertheless, from the safe distance of fiction, let's hear it for HARRY!

In but a few moments, the doors in front of them will open, and they will be able to approach the trophy onto which we have engraved the name of the winner. 5… 4… 3… 2…

AND THE WINNER IS: VRISKAAAAAAAA SERKET!

—

Vriska: WH8T THE FUCK.

Vriska: WHAT THE F8CK!!!!!!!!

Vriska: I WON THIS????????

Vriska: You pieces of shit can't supp8rt me to win ag8inst some lanky rain8bow-drinking 8itch, 8ut 8eat one-in-fuck8ng 16777216 odds to win poorest, wettest, saddest, littlest g8ddamn meow8east?

Logic [Easy:Success]: She won. That means we lost.

Conceptualization [Challenging:Failure]: Another loss in a long, long line of losses.

Pain Threshold: You've gotten used to the feeling by now. Losing something barely even hurts anymore.

Endurance: You still carry each one with you. Well, except…

Volition: Not now. Not yet.

Authority [Medium:Success]: This doesn't have to stay a loss. Stare the girl down. Challenge her. Don't let this be taken from you.

Wait, what *is* she doing, anyway?

Perception: The grey girl seems to be shouting at someone, but there's no one else here.

Vriska: FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

Inland Empire [Godly:Success]: The unseen audience, the string-pullers of fate. The sadistic writer terrorizing their creation. The storybook itself, the confines it sets. She has seen the death of the author, and needs more.

Empathy [Medium:Failure]: What's got her so upset?

Harry: Is there something wrong with you?

Vriska: I'm not taking that from a walking dumpster, asshole!

Suggestion: There's still time to fix this. Say something nice, quickly.

Harry: I just mean, you seem upset. I thought you'd be celebrating your win. It’s a big accomplishment, right?

Vriska: Are you kidding?

Drama: Are we, sire? Should we be, perhaps?

Vriska: You thought I’d 8e cele8r8ing this? A vote for the most pitia8le, pathetic person in paradox space? I’m not so desper8 to fill my pity quadrant that I need to resort to CROWDFUNDING! That’s like the lowest form of 8egging!

Electrochemistry: You are that desperate. Don’t think we're above begging for it, piggy.

Conceptualization [Easy:Success]: Oh. This was not a contest one wants to win. Maybe our loss was for the best.

Vriska: And I WON!!!!!!!! With this kind of competition, HOW did I get all the votes? All of them!

Reaction Speed [Trivial:Success]: "This kind of competition?" She’s talking about you! Say something!

Harry: It was a tight race. You fought with honor.

Vriska: IT SH8ULDN’T HAVE FUCKIN8 8EEN!

Vriska: Look at you! What the fuck kind of su8juggl8or suit are you wearing? Did someone 8leed on it?

Savoir Faire: No, no, this outfit is *cool*. You just have to give it a little *disco*, man.

Strike a pose.

Vriska: …

Vriska: You can’t seriously think any of that is appealing.

Vriska: Your clothes look like they were dragged out of 8 different gar8age 8ins.

Vriska: You couldn’t 8e more greasy and stained if you drowned in a pail of 8rooding slurry. From the st8 of your body, you actually might have!

Physical Instrument: I told you. You need to cultivate more mass.

Composure [Challenging:Failure]: Please, don’t start crying in front of a teenager.

You realize that you already have.

Vriska: Are you seriously crying right now? I might not 8e an expert on the human metamorphological process 8ut you definitely aren’t a pupa anymore. Shit, you look like you’re halfway dead already. Grow up, Pupa Pan!

Endurance: You need to stop this, now, before you break down further.

Harry: Fuck off, fucking spidery bitch! Leave me alone!

Vriska: Wow. I don’t think I’ve seen a grown man act this pathetic 8efore. How the hell did you not win this!?!?!?!? Do you even have a single thing going for you?

Esprit De Corps: You have a badge and a gun. You are a Detective Lieutenant-Yefreitor of the RCM. At least for now, you have that.

Harry: I’m a pretty good fucking cop.

Vriska: There are no good cops you dum8 8itch!

Authority: Make her stop.

Vriska: I’ve known you less than a minute and you already disgust me. I feel 8ad for the people that actually have to 8e near you.

Half Light: Do what you have to do and do it now.

Vriska: You deserved to win this. I don’t know how you can live like that. 8ack home you would have 8een culled sweeps ago.

Hand Eye Coordination [Legendary:Success]: You have never fired a shot so quickly or instinctually. You didn’t even know your gun was loaded. You pulled it out the way a cat scratches a hand, or a drunk pisses himself. You don’t remember when violence became second nature to you, but you didn’t forget how to do it either.

Harry: Oh, God.

Perception (Sight): Is that blood… blue?

Visual Calculus [Legendary:Success]: Light swirls and shimmers around the girl’s body, flashing a technicolor code you cannot decipher. Her body floats into the air, and her eyes flash open. All eight of them.

Inland Empire: No justice. No heroism. Just mindless violence.

Half Light: RUN.

Vriska: OW!

Vriska: Oh no you fucking don’t!!!!!!!!

(♏) Volition [Impossible:Failure]: You try to run, but your will is seemingly powerless to drive your body. I’m sorry.

Physical Instrument: Don’t look at me. I’m in great shape.

Interfacing: Connections seem fine. Don’t tell me we have to unplug him again…

♏Vriska♏: What the fuck.

Harry: Wh-wh-what are you doing to me?

Vriska: Shut up I’m trying to f8cus!

Inland Empire: Welcome, Thief of Light.

♏Vriska♏: What the hell is wrong with you?

Encyclopedia: Severe alcoholism. Retrograde amnesia. Partial facial paralysis. Dehydration. Heart palpi- (♏)

♏Vriska♏: 8e quiet, 8ook8rain! I’m trying to rifle through memories here and it’s a MESS!

Interfacing: We haven’t quite organized since our recent… restructuring. Try the thought cabinet.

Rhetoric: Don’t tell her that!

♏Vriska♏: Too late, sucker! Found it!

♏Vriska♏: …

♏Vriska♏: Jegus christ.

♏Vriska♏: In pu8lic? Why would you—

♏Vriska♏: Ugh!

♏Vriska♏: You said THAT?

♏Vriska♏: There was a8solutely no reason to do ANY of that, what the hell!

♏Vriska♏: You should honestly just kill yourself if you’re going to keep 8eing such a fuckup!

Reaction Speed: Yes!

Logic: Sound. You should kill yourself.

Empathy: It would make everyone feel better.

Endurance: Hasn’t this all gone on long enough?

Savoir Faire: It’s a hell of a statement.

Drama: The noble sacrifice, like Romeo, like Juliet!

Rhetoric: You should kill yourself NOW!

Authority: She has bested you. Listen to your better.

Half Light: Anything to get away from her.

Volition: …

♏Vriska♏: Can you creeps 8e normal for two damn seconds?

MORALE CRITICAL

The light fades from your eyes, and you fall to the floor.

Shivers: You are being called back where you belong....

—

Kim: Yes, Lieutenant. A fascinating dream. I’m sorry you did not win the competition.

Harry: What do you think it means, Kim? Do you think it could be some kind of message? Should I try to find that girl?

Kim: “That girl?”

Harry: Yeah! Vriska!

Kim: No, Lieutenant. I do not think you should go looking for Vriska Serket from Homestuck. Perhaps try looking for the killer in our murder case?

#disco elysium #homestuck #vriska serket #harry du bois #little meow meow

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liveontelevision · 2 months

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Okay, this started as a rant about Lucifer lore and turned into an argumentative essay on why Lucifer is a bottom. My b.

18+ Smut ahead, lots of angst

•••

Here's the thing about Lucifer. He was an awesome dreamer, fell in love with Lillith, and was banished to Hell. Literally forced to see what the gift of good will can do at its worse. Unless he's made some personal contact with a sinner to get like updates about what the gift of good will did right, he had to be stuck in a depression for centuries, at least until Charlie was born. And while that would've definitely given him a new passion, he'll never feel confident in dreaming again.

With how much he dislikes sinners and what they represent, i wonder if there had to be some strain on their relationship when it came to Lillith taking control? They never really talk about if they had a fallout or if she just disappeared, but i dont think they really got divorced either.

When Lucifer looks at that family picture and winces, does he feel bad about not contacting charlie? About something he did to make lillith leave? Or maybe he feels bad about being upset at lillith for leaving in the first place? There's so much to umpack there i live for the lore.

Love Interests:

But when that comes to potential love interests in the future, Lucifer hasnt had to court anyone before like ever. Not in the circumstances that they live in a big city like Hell. So when he finally ends up catching feelings, he has no idea. People around the hotel literally need to pick up on context clues for him and have an intervention to tell him he's in love again.

Even if he hasnt seen lillith in 7 years, their relationship had to be a drastic change compared to new love. I think that his love interest would also pick it up before he does, and you would let him work at his own pace. Fuck, it is so important that he goes through this process at his own pace.

With so much strain on his past relationships with loved ones, he fully gaslights himself into thinking he doesnt deserves and isnt allowed to feel affection anymore. I hate making characters i love suffer. But i feel like in his state of mind he'd go through depressive episodes and panic attacks, maybe some night terrors. Theyed be about his past and his subconscious would essentially tell him he has feelings again, and he shouldn't act them in case he scares you away and abandons you, like heaven. Or drives you away like lillith. Or purposely blocks you out like charlie. Mans is struggling i swear. He needs some comfort.

After finally coming to terms, hes a nervous wreck about every decision he makes. He'll constantly stare in the mirror in the mornings, making sure he looks his best, would plan mental scripts before even having a conversation with you, and would become a bumbling mess just trying to make jokes out of the situation, some base level actions, like how we saw in the show. He'll manage to finally ask you out, but all he really knows how to do is profess an undying love (i feel like his confession to lillith was hella dramatic) so it was a little awkward, but still cute. And of course you said yes.

So let's say its been 5+ years since he moved into the hotel, met you and finally managed to confess his feelings. When it comes to the actual relationship? You give him reassurance and support him through his mental episodes, and laugh at his jokes and praise him for everything he does. He has such intense imposture syndrome though, that even other demons have to reassure that theres no way you dont love him with all your being. Because it is literally obvious to everyone but him.

He's pretty good at doing the romantic fluff stuff in public, he loves to make a big show out of treating you like royalty and even trying to embarrass you when you become close enough. He's always more charasmatic in public, it seems easier than doing that alone.

Not in a negative way, but Lucifer is so never to be alone with you. You take the lead a bit more in those scenarios, suggesting ideas like movies or just coming up with small talk yourself. He needs someone who'll be patient with him. Being alive for millions of years AND being left or shamed by all your loved ones during that time is literally the definition of Truama.

Of course he's been bottling all that shit up, he has no one to confide with. There's no one who's been alive and witnessed it all the way he has. So bless you for loving and caring for him even without understanding all hes been through.

You'll have some rough patches, where this emotional side locks him away from you and everyone else. It might be a few days before you see him. He'll lock himself in his office, pumping out ducks by the dozen just to keep himself from sleeping, because he's scared he'll have night terrors if he feels asleep. He's in a constant loop;

"what if i fucked up?"

"what if i try to talk about it and then they realize how bad i fucked up?"

"what if that's enough of a reason for them to leave me?"

"what if i scare them away?"

"what if that fucks this up?"

"what if i fucked up.. Again..?"

After he leaves his office, youre excited to see him out and about, but you cant make a big deal out of it. You have to speak to him calmly, make sure he's physically okay before talking to him about his thought process. It might take awhile, but he'll eventually trust you enough to open up. And of course it'll never be bad enough for you to leave him, he's just struggling.

Physical Contact:

It takes him an even longer time to become physical with you. He hasnt been intimate for over a decade at this point, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with little affections like hand holding, cuddling, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing? Hoo boy, he melts after your first kiss. It couldve been even a small peck and he would still become a nervous wreck just trying to ask for more.

He'll ask for physical touch more than provide it at first. You'll give him a quick kiss and he'll look up at you super eager just like, "another?" He'll grow into tastful pda's, linking arms, quick hugs and smooches, holding hands all that.

He becomes putty in your hand when you're alone though. You'll nudge him to lean against your shoulder or even lay his head in your lap while youre lounging or watching movies. He becomes so relaxed in your presence, that you'll want to suddenly peck him just to see his suddenly flustered reaction.

You'd give him massages that he would always be hesistant over. He was always a little nervous that he wasnt giving enough to you, but you were quick to assure him that wasnt the case. You'd straddle his hips while giving him a slowww massage. It starts with light touches, tracing your fingers over his shoulder blades and spine. You'd trace your fingers over his chest when you would cuddle too, depending on the position. Or stroke his back sweetly. It was enough of a distraction to keep his mind occupied, away from any spiraling thoughts he might be having.

He purrs. Convince me that he doesnt purr. (You cant)

Being secluded for so long probably means that he doesnt fly as much as he used to. It was probably a passion of his, and he was especially delighted to share it with lillith and charlie.

So during those 7 years he barely flew, he also didnt take care of his wings. I feel like theyre something to be summoned, so they arent constantly tucked into his back. You'd basically scold him sometimes to just let you clean his wings.

You'd do it in like a spring-type bathhouse that Lucifer would have in his castle somehow. It was one of the first intimate moments he's experienced in years, so he was generally going insane. Feeling your hands and a little comb rake through the feathers on his giant wings? You'd have to tap his shoulder sometimes to keep him from falling asleep to the relaxation alone. After the first time, the water you used was pretty dirty and he had a lot of loose feathets that were combed out. Damn, he needed this.

Intimacy:

After awhile, you sit down and would have a discussion about being intimate in bed. Lucifer would be absolutely nervous about overstepping by asking this, (even though you've been together for about a year at this point). He would use his mental scripts and basically practice what he wanted to say.

It would mainly be him saying he wants to do this because he loves you and youve done so much for him that he wants to give back to you in this way. It would consist of him saying its okay if you dont want to, or if you ever want to stop to just say so. But of course you want to, how could you not?

It would start slow, he actually tries taking the lead in this specific situation. He would kiss you first, his lips trembling at the thought that this is actually happening. Feeling his nerves, you'd cup his face and stroke his cheeks with your thumbs lightly. That will help him ease up enough to start letting the passion take over more.

He'd become more confident in slipping his tongue into your mouth and placing his hands on your hips to pull you closer to him. Lucifer would get lost in the moment, pulling you to straddle his lap as he kissed and licked and bit his way across both your shoulders and down to the softeness of your breast. After leaning back to look at the damage his eyes would become increasingly wide, looking up at you with a flustered expression. Seeing you losing it as much as he was, gave him enough courage to keep up at it.

He would almost hesistantly take a hold of your breasts and would massage them softly, running his thumbs across your nipples and becoming absolutely delighted at the reaction you gave. The adrenaline from the pleasure would make you start grinding against his lap, which would make lucifer's hands on your hips pull away for a moment and make his breath stutter. Lucifer would look you up and down as if he didnt know what to do next, studying your body with darting eyes. You'd press a small kiss on his forehead before guiding his hands back onto your hips with yours, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

"Are you okay, Luci?" He would gulp before nodding his head and turning ridiculously red across his face, maybe from the idea of what was to come, maybe just from your voice alone. You'd keep your hands ontop of his at your hips as you'd keep moving, letting out breathy moans. He would be holding his breath without realizing, an absolute nervous wreck just from the view.

He would already be hard just from the previous make out session, so this would cause him to lean his back against the bed, his strength giving out. You'd keep up at it, feeling his hips jolt up to meet yours at times.

He was a sweaty, twitching mess in front of you and you hated to admit how much that excited you.

His scripted plan was immediately forgotten, but he was quick to remember that he wanted to please you.

He'd snap out of his state of intense pleasure, to carefully switch positions, him looking over you with your back against the bed.

You both discuss it, of course, attempting to set boundaries before hand. Even just the tender discussion would get him riled up. So he'd lean foward and kiss you again, showing off his forked tongue before peppering kisses down your entire body, until he was close enough to let his hot breath heat up your folds.

You'd feel his nervous breath on you before delving in. He would be hesistant of course, but would be quick to get used to your entrance after running his tongue across your entirety multiple times. Lucifer loves providing pleasure this way, so his brain immediately knew what to do once the nerves past. He was quick to take a tight hold onto your thighs to keep you in place as he entered you with his demonic lengthy tongue. He would look up at you as he sort of aimlessly dug around at first, waiting for a reaction. Once he'd see you dip your head back with a muffled moan, he would close his eyes to focus all his attention to that one spot. He'd reach his thumb around to circle and massage your clit that he would find far too quickly. You'd arch your back and try to get more friction against his tongue, but it's easy to forget that he is quite literally the strongest being in Hell. You weren't going anywhere.

He'd love feeling your hands in his hair and would absolutely lose it feeling you pull hard when he'd hit just the right spot. As soon as he set a steady thythm and was hearing your voice become more unhinged, he'd speed up to an extent that you didn't realize was possible after going for so long. You discussed cumming before and he made it very clear that he was okay with you finishing on his face. Fuck, he wanted it. You still warned him, moaning out his name to get his attention, "I-I'm almost there- K-Keep doing that.. like that..! Luci-" you'd almost direct him though the whole process, but were quick to become a moaning mess unable to communicate with words. You'd reach your limit and he would let you buck up into his face this time, loosening his grip on your thighs. He'd pull away after licking you clean, sending overstimulated pleasure across your entire body, with a line of your juices following his tongue as he lifted his head. He would pant with his tongue still sticking out of his mouth, and even through hazy eyes you loved seeing his demonic tongue and thinking about how it just drove you to climax.

Things would switch up again, and you'd sit him against the back of the bedframe. you'd have another quick discussion before seating yourself slowly on his length, which had been throbbing for any contact since the night started. The first few times, he'd do his best not to cum immediately. He hadn't been touched like this in a while, after all. You'd only begin to move once you made sure he was okay since his struggle was written all over his face.

The moment you began to keep a steady space, he would jut his hips upwards, becoming needy to feel this sensation he hadn't felt in over a decade. The first time didn't last long. It was sweet, and he would constantly moan out your name and babble on about how much he loves you. The entire time, you'd be praising him through every move until he was going too fast for you to get a sentence out.

He'd cum inside of you, another previously discussed topic. You essentially had to beg to convince him it was okay. You'd collapse onto his chest, a position he didnt see often. While the two of you always cuddled, you were so focused on making sure he was comfortable, Lucifer realized you didnt often get the chance to just relax on top of him. So after realizing that? Aftercare was amazing.

He'd let you sit with him inside you for a while, before pulling you off and immediately cleaning you up. Some nights, when he felt especially dominant, he would lap up his own cum from your incredibly sensitive cunt. He would swallow some of it, but was mainly pushing anything that dripped out back into your entrance.

After cleaning you up, he would wiggle his way back underneath you and pull you onto his chest, enjoying taking care of you the way you took care of him.

After the first night, lucifer would be much more confident. He'd have that healthy glow, but would be more assertive during meetings, more communicative and wouldnt shut others out as often. It really helped him realize how much you gave to him, and he was determined to give all that and more back to you.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer

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justdontaskme · 9 months

Text

A Promise to Keep (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

A/N: Hello! I got a request and a sudden spurt of inspiration. If seems a little all over the place, I apologize, I wrote it quickly in one sitting and feel like it might be the best it'll get. Please let me know what you think or anything else you want to see.

After your morning training session, all you really wanted to do was to head home and cuddle with Nala until your second session later today. So, you bid your teammates farewell with a promise to see them later.

Preseason had been going well, but it was quite obvious the number of gaps missing as many of your players were still out representing at the World Cup. Speaking of missing players, your phone started ringing just as you entered your apartment. You placed your bag down, scooping up Nala as you made your way over to the couch.

“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia greeted you over the phone, a tired but happy smile on her face at finally seeing your face today.

“Hi, Ale. Say hi to mama, Nala,” you said, grabbing one of Nala’s little paws and waving it at the camera. You listened as Ale talked to Nala all about what she had done today and how much she missed her.

Eventually, Nala got bored, and you placed her back on the floor to roam the apartment. You turned sideways, using the arm of the couch as a backrest, pulling your feet up to stretch across the seats.

“Are you okay, Ale?”

“I wish you were here,” she mumbled, and even though you knew it wasn’t meant with any malice, you couldn’t help but detect that tone of bitterness in her voice, just hitching at the very end.

You sighed deeply, not really wanting to replay a fight you two have been enduring for the last few weeks now.

“I miss you,” you said instead, trying not to feed into another inevitable fight. “Enjoy this while you can, you’ll be home soon.”

“I’m here, and you’re there. How am I supposed to enjoy this when you are sitting back home when you could have been here.”

“Ale,” you started, your voice soft and gentle, trying to soothe her before she worked herself into a frenzy. “This is your moment, don’t worry about me.”

“But this is supposed to be our moment,” she said, her voice raising slightly. “You and me. It was supposed to be us. Now, I’m here by myself.”

“You’re not alone, Ale,” you reminded her, asking her to lean on her teammates for strength in this monumental moment.

“It’s not the same, and you know it. We made a promise.”

You turned the phone away from yourself for a second, allowing your face to fall forward into your knees. She was right. The two of you had made a promise to each other that you would do whatever it takes to be on the grandest stage of the World Cup together.

“I know, but you and I both know why I’m here. I’ve made peace with this situation. I hate it, but I wouldn’t have done anything different.”

“Not even to be with me?” Alexia knew she was selfish and wrong for asking that, but she had been struggling to really find her footing this tournament, and to have you thousands of miles away wasn’t helping. Her feelings were taking over. She felt like she was floundering, one second away from drowning every step of the way.

“Ale, as much as I’d love to be there with you, I can’t put myself in that situation again. Not unless things change,” you said.

While you loved and enjoyed your time on the national team, there was so much going on behind the scenes that many people didn’t know about. Unfortunately, it had taken a huge mental toll on you, a toll you were still paying to this day and maybe for the rest of your life.

“You always said you and I could get through everything together. Why is this any different? Why can’t we get through this together?” Her voice was strained and you knew she was not going to back down on this tonight.

“Alexia, let’s not go down this road tonight. You have a big game tomorrow. Let’s not do this right now.”

“I’m suffocating. I feel like I can’t even take a step without everyone criticizing my form and my right to be here. And now I’m here telling you that I need you, and you just push it aside,” she yelled, causing you to almost drop your phone.

“Hold on, Alexia. That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant.”

“Don’t go putting words in my mouth. You know I hate when people do that,” you warned her, feeling yourself slowly losing your temper as well.

“And I hate when people go back on their word, yet you did and I let you.”

That stopped you for a moment. Everything Alexia has been saying all made sense. But you couldn’t just take a whole month off especially with preseason starting just to follow her halfway around the world.

It didn’t stop you from feeling guilty for not being there when she needed you. Since she had gone, the time difference had really made its mark on your relationship, speaking much less often than normal. Calls were either less frequent or shorter in comparison to the ones just before the group stages started.

You hated yourself for not noticing how much Alexia was apparently struggling throughout this month apart. Each call you remember trying to comfort and reassure her you were her biggest fan, but she didn’t just need some to believe in her, she needed your full support in fighting the demons in her heads that have been there since she went down before the Euros.

“Ale,” you tried to form a coherent sentence. One that was genuinely what she needed to hear without feeling forced.

“No, you know you were right. I have a game tomorrow. I should get some rest.”

Before you could say anything else, she hung up on you. You tossed your phone to the other side of the couch, sitting in silence as the pent up anger from this and previous fights coupled with an insurmountable amount of guilt bubbled inside of you.

****

From your seat next to Patri, your hands curled into fists when you saw Alexia being subbed off, knowing that she wasn’t happy with the decision, and even worse, she’ll be upset with the way she had played with the limited minutes she had.

You started to worry and feel a twinge of guilt, wondering if your fight last night had anything to do with her performance today. You quickly shook your head, tossing the idea out of your head and reminding yourself that Alexia was a professional and she wouldn’t let something like that mess with her game. She must just have had an off day.

Things from the night before were still unresolved, but you hoped that it would all work itself out when you spoke to her later.

It was a bittersweet win. You were in tears seeing the absolute happiness on the players’ faces, especially Alexia’s, yet when you turned to Patri and Mapi, you knew they already understood the feelings you were fighting.

Mapi came over and draped an arm over your shoulders, nodding her head without saying anything. There were only a few who would truly understand what you were feeling as you watched the Spanish national team reach heights that were before unachievable. And they managed to do it all without you and your fellow teammates.

You waited by the phone all night, but never got anything from your girlfriend. You had tried calling once, but it had gone straight to voicemail, and you figured that it meant that she wasn’t ready to hear from you yet.

Then, you reached out to Ona, who assured you that Alexia was okay and that she would keep an eye on her for you. You then asked her to pass on your congratulations and her love, which she easily agreed to. Thanking the younger girl, you went about making the necessary arrangements for your trip.

****

As you stepped into the stadium, you were in awe of the atmosphere. The crowds of people here for this game, cheering along and choosing sides, even though their own nations have already gone home. It was a full stadium of people here to love and champion the game everyone loved. A wave of sadness swept through you as you imagined what could have been.

You were supposed to be experiencing this with all your friends, the grass beneath your feet, not the concrete of the seating area. You should have been out there decked out in your Spanish uniform, your name and number proudly on your back, instead of being in the stands with your girlfriend’s name and number on.

You let yourself wallow for a minute more before quickly reminding yourself why you were really here. While you continue to wish things were different, you didn’t regret your choices, but now you were to live with the consequences of those choices.

Instead of dwelling, you stood on your feet, cheering along with the rest of the Spanish fans as both teams made their way out for warmups. You cheered loudly anytime Alexia touched the ball, but with all the people in the stadium, you doubted she could hear you.

Once the Spanish team finished warming up and started heading into the locker rooms, you did your best to catch Alexia’s eyes without making a big show. As far as you knew, Alexia didn’t even know you were here.

Eventually you managed to make eye contact with Ona who sent you a bright smile before rushing over to Alexia and pointing you out in the crowd. Despite the countdown until kickoff and the protests of a certain coach, Alexia ran straight to you, meeting you at the edge of the stands.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, reaching one hand up to cup your face while the other went around your waist, pulling your bodies as close as the barrier between you two allowed.

In the moment, it didn’t matter if there was a small wedge driven between the two of you since the start of this tournament, Alexia was beyond happy to finally have you back in her arms. She wasn’t going to waste a second of it.

“I made a promise, we’d be here together,” you said, resting your forehead against hers, this closeness drowning out everything around you. “I came to fulfill that promise to you. Even if it’s a little different than the way we planned.”

“I’m sorry,” Alexia said, ready to jump into her rehearsed spiel of how she shouldn’t have reacted the way she did the other night.

But before she could say anything, you quickly interrupted her with an apology of your own. “No, mi corazón, I’m sorry. You were right, we made a promise and I went back on it.”

“No, I know why you and the others did what you did, but that doesn’t mean I don’t support you. I just really wished I could have shared all of this with you by my side.”

“I know, bebé, I know. But we can’t change the past.”

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Alexia admitted, sniffling slightly. You reached up to wipe the pooling tear in her eye.

“Me too. I promise we can talk about this more later. For now, go out there and make me proud,” you told her, not caring about the crowd as you leant forward and kissed her for the first time in over a month. “Te amo.”

The blinding smile on your girlfriend’s face and the returned ‘I love you’ was worth the month apart. Alexia snuck one more quick kiss to your lips before rushing off to the locker room before she was benched for the entire game.

You sat back in your seat as you awaited the players' walk out.

“My sister is such a sucker for you,” Alba said, knocking her shoulder against yours from her seat beside you.

You burst out laughing, “Never hurts to have her wrapped around my finger,” you shrugged.

“Yet you were the one to skip practice in order to book a last minute flight to Australia just so you could apologize in person.”

“It’s called supporting your girlfriend,” you countered, eyes on the tunnel as the players were set to come out any second.

Alba rolled her eyes goodnaturedly, joining you as you both sported your Alexia jerseys, loudly cheering for the superstar as everyone came out. You blew her a kiss and wished her the best of luck.

This wasn’t how you two had thought a World Cup together would be like, but even with all the obstacles, you had finally made it to a final together. And really, that’s all that mattered because at the end of the day, you two would always have each other.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine

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