#the little portraits on the wall are her friends i’m going to put one of them as her roommate!

[marzzrocks]

i also wanted to show some of the houses i made today in hhp; here is Mitzi’s !

#i love maximalism #the little portraits on the wall are her friends i’m going to put one of them as her roommate! #i went for a little shared house between friends #notice the mismatched chairs it’s my favorite detail :) #acnh #hhp #i kept calling her mitski instead of mitzi

[lincolndjarin]

my sister lives in the attic.

main masterlist

joel miller x reader

warnings : angst, death, child loss, grieving, denial

a/n : i've never written something like this but i'm in a weird place and this idea has been following me for quite some time now so i decided to take a few minutes and write it, i'd love some feedback on it since this style is kinda new to me !!

He didn’t like to talk about his children. 

“Do you have kids?”

“Two daughters.” Was all he said.

That’s what he had told you on your first date. He was so abrupt about it that you didn’t ask about them again, instead opting to wait until he told you on his own terms. 

On your fifth date he told you that Ellie got in trouble for cursing in gym class that day. 

On your seventh date he told you Sarah was away at college, and that he missed her terribly and wished she would visit. 

On your eighth date he told you that Ellie made him a card for his birthday. He even brought it over to your house to show you. It was a drawing of the two of them floating through space. The inside said:

i love our family to the moon and back!

You didn’t ask why Sarah wasn’t included in the crayon family portrait. 

On your ninth date he showed you the photos in his wallet. A baby girl with her curly dark hair up in two little buns sitting in the sand. The one below it was a girl who looked to be about five, giving the camera a toothy grin, standing next to Joel in a courthouse, holding up her adoption papers. 

On your twelfth date he finally invited you over for dinner, you happily accepted. 

Joel introduced you to an extremely energetic seven year old. He gave you a tour of the house (only the first floor.) and you smiled at every family photo hung on the walls.

“I invited Sarah but she couldn’t make it, she’s got midterms but I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.” He tells you before leaving you with Ellie, going to pick up a pizza for the three of you. 

Ellie tells you about school, about her best friend Riley, and about playing soccer in the backyard with her father. 

And then she says the strangest thing. 

“My sister lives in the attic.”

“Excuse me?” You had given her a confused smile but she carried on as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“My sister, Sarah, lives in the attic.” She said it so plainly. Taking your hand and dragging you up the stairs, pointing up at a staircase on the second story that led to a singular door, pink paint peeling from it with little wooden letters spelling out SARAH, the sight of it put you on edge. 

“We shouldn’t go up there honey, let’s wait until your father gets back.” You had put up a bit of resistance but she ran ahead of you, you watched helplessly from the bottom of the stairs as Ellie pushed open the door and ran inside. 

“It’s okay, dad says I can talk to Sarah whenever I want as long as I don’t touch her stuff.” She had shouted, already inside. Despite every nerve in your body singing for you to go back downstairs and wait, you knew better than to leave a child alone so you climbed the steps and entered the room. 

Nothing strange, nothing frightening, no secret nightmare. 

When you look around all you see is a room, albeit a child's room but a room nonetheless. 

Ellie sits in a love seat, suddenly repeating everything she told you about her day to seemingly no one as she stares at Sarah’s bookshelf. You walk around, trying to recall when Joel said she left for college. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust but strangest of all this is clearly not a teenager's room. 

This is a childs room, for a girl about Ellie’s age. Every photo on her desk doesn’t show her older than what looks to be twelve. 

“Ellie, honey, when you said your sister lived in the atti-'' She doesn’t stop talking from behind you, ignoring you entirely but her words stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Dad keeps saying you’re coming home for Christmas but he also said you’d be home for his birthday, he keeps telling me how much we’re gonna get along but I just tell him we already get along fine.” 

It sends a chill up your spine, you aren’t superstitious but in a moment of weakness when you turn a part of you almost expects to see a ghost.

Of course that isn’t the case.  

When you look Ellie remains in the loveseat, seemingly the only thing that isn’t covered in dust up here. Her eyes trained on the highest shelf, when you follow her line of sight all of it starts to make sense. The shelf is covered in books and toys and trinkets, all of which are showing signs of age and disuse but the top shelf is neat and tidy, it even looks recently dusted. 

Only two things are on the top shelf. 

A beer bottle with the label ripped off, a lilac sits within it, a few stray petals lay in a halo around the makeshift vase. 

And a dark purple urn. 

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, unable to tear your eyes from it. 

“One time Uncle Tommy told me she was an angel.” She whispers when you stare in silence for far too long. “Dad got so mad we didn’t see Tommy for like a month after that and when we did see him again everything went back to normal.”

“What happened to her?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, she only shrugs in response.

“It was before I lived here, I never ask, I’m worried he’ll send me to live with Uncle Tommy if I do.” 

“Oh, honey.” You crouch down beside her, she hugs her knees to her chest. “He wouldn’t do that.” 

“I’m still not gonna ask. He doesn’t talk about her that much, only when someone else brings it up or if I ask to come up here to see her.” You nod slowly before holding your arms out to her, she wraps herself around you and you carry her to the door, eager to leave the tomb you’ve stumbled upon. “Bye Sarah.” She mumbled against your shoulder as you closed the door, the sentiment sent shivers down your spine. 

When Joel returns with the food it’s as if you never were in the attic at all.

Ellie runs to him, wrapping herself around his leg as he laughs, trying to kick her loose. 

When the three of you sit down for dinner she never says a thing to him about any of it. 

She asks if she can go to her friends house after dinner, their mom is going to take them to the arcade, Joel grins at you, asking if she was good while he was gone and you put on a smile, nodding. 

“Then you can go.” He ruffled her hair before she ran off to get her backpack. When it was just the two of you he took your hand, mentioning something about catching a movie while she’s gone, you nodded absentmindedly when he gave your hand a gentle squeeze you finally looked him in the eye. 

You’d never noticed it before but there is a permanent sorrow behind the dark expanse of his irises, as if he’s never really happy, he’s sometimes just less sad. “Everything okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

You don’t bring up the attic at the dinner table.

Or in the car.

Or at the movies. 

He just needs time, you tell yourself. Maybe he’ll tell you on your thirteenth date, maybe it won’t be until your hundredth date. Until then you won’t tell him that you know who lives in the attic and you’ll nod with faux disappointment when he says that his eldest won’t be home for the holidays this year. 

And you’ll take extra care of him on days when he comes home with fresh lilacs.

a/n : yeah so uhhhhhhhhhh tell me how y'all liked this haha idk if i'll write anything like this again it was just sort of something for me to vent with, hope everyones having a good day and thank y'all for reading <3

#lincolndjarin #one shot #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou joel #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel and ellie #sarah miller

[virgincels]

NOUVEAU GAULTIER !

ft. leon s. kennedy x reader x ashley graham

tags. leon is ashley’s dad, daddy-daughter incest, age gap, threesome, implied/referenced cheating, reader has a pussy, 1 tiny reference to an eating disorder, creampie, daddy kink, dub-con, reader gets cucked sort of, ex-president leon :3

notes. was gonna name this nouveau roturier like newly rich but thought I was soooo funny for making a designer brand pun and I’m not even french so it’s probably wrong like but idc omg I’m sorry!!! the timeline of this is fucked like idk but leon is old in this 50+ i’d say :3 i adore ashley with all my heart and she’s one of my faves but i totally bimbofied her in this fic so excuse that 😭 no pronouns are used but reader wears dresses/skirts and is shorter than ashley and leon calls them wife once, leon is ooc againnnnn I promise next time he will be getting pegged.. I am not happy w the smut in this bc it’s oddly put together but whatever not proofread ignore typos

You’re a social climber. Admittedly so. The minute you see Ashley, kitten heels clicking on the marble floor, shiny blonde bob, cat-eye sunglasses - you need her. Whether it be as friends or lovers, you need her. Her dad spent two terms in office a few years back, the name alone was enough to get people to vote for him, President Kennedy has a nice ring to it. Been tried out once, so why not again? He was super cute at the time too. Well dressed, soft-spoken, and Italian-American, but not Italian enough to make the general public go into a frenzy about how some foreigner snuck his way to the top. C’mon, look at those baby blues, that’s an American man born and bred. You wanna do the whole Happy Birthday Mr. President shit with him, bastardised JFK and Marilyn.

Ashley is easy, the sorority girls flock to her, use her till they get what they want. All it takes is some shiny shoes, a flashy handbag, and a pearly smile to get her attention. You go the extra mile, manage to snag a Miu Miu chino miniskirt after hours of bidding to match hers, put on some knee-high socks and loafers, saunter into class and sit right in front of her. Pull out your very authentic and vintage Vivienne Westwood pouch that you use as a pencil case, make sure she gets a good look at it.

She approaches you after class, flutters her fingers at you and asks you to wait up. “I love your bag,” she gushes, “I’m Ashley, sorry, I didn’t catch your name today.” Her bangs are clipped away from her face today with a crystal-embellished pin, matching the pendant that sits nestled in her cleavage.

You tell her your name, smile at her just as wide, tell her you’ve seen that cardigan in the Blugirl fall 2004 runway. She says it’s a replica, couldn’t get her hands on the exact one, but her daddy did manage to get her the bag straight off the model. Albeit a little busted from all the years of use. She’s too open, so willing to spill all her secrets to the first person she deems trustworthy.

It takes approximately three weeks before the two of you are thick as thieves. You feel like you’ve known her all your life. Ashley invites you over to her gilded cage in no time, located in the very back of a gated neighbourhood where all the old money is. Colonial mansions, lion statues, perfectly trimmed hedges, something out of the Stepford Wives. Gives you the creeps.

“Daddy’s home, but mom’s on vacation,” Ashley loops her arm in yours, greets the man who opens the door for both of you . He nods at her. “He’s probably in his office though, so he won’t bother us.”

The family portrait on the wall is too much. Isn’t that some mediaeval shit? Ashley looks like her mother, you note. Just kinder. She can never help the smile that reaches her eyes. Her mom’s a total bombshell, heels that make her taller than Mr. Kennedy, all tits and not much else. You always thought wealthy guys liked them small.

Her room is what you expect from Ashley. Tidy, shelves upon shelves of squeaky clean shoes, a handbag variant in fifteen different colours. Walk-in wardrobe that’s entirely colour-coded and sorted by brand. It’s a wannabe nepo baby’s personal heaven. The thing all your dreams are made of.

“Ash, this is crazy,” you find yourself opening drawers and cupboards, doing the complete opposite of what your parents taught you. Totally invading her privacy by playing dress up in her closet, and yet, Ashley doesn’t mind one bit. She lets you try on a Shushu/Tong dress, one that was tailored to fit her just right, so it’s slightly tight in the bust for you. A little too loose on the waist, she’s taller after all. Fatter ass too. Got that from her dad, you’ve seen how those slacks stretch uncomfortably far around his thighs. “It’s like a department store.” You wonder if she’s ever been in one. Probably not.

“I guess so,” Ashley giggles, helping you out of the dress with ease. “I’m glad I met you.” She wears her heart on her sleeve, can never lie to you, has to say it right there and then. “People are so mean to me ‘cause I have a lot.” Poor little rich girl.

“They’re just jealous, Ash,” you say breezily, fixing your hair in her full-length mirror. Framed by lights and everything. “It’s not your fault you’re rich, babes.”

“I know, that’s what I’m saying!” Ashley tosses her arms in the air, “like, it’s not my fault, I was just born into it.”

“Exactly, you didn’t ask for it.” You coo, cupping her soft cheeks in your hands. God, you’d kill for China doll skin like this. Some people really do have it all.

“You just get it,” she sighs, bats her mascara-coated lashes down at you, “I love you like so much.”

“Aw,” you stand on your tiptoes to kiss her cheek, she doesn’t complain when your lip gloss stains it, “I love you, like, even more, Ash.”

Sleeping at Ashley’s becomes a frequent thing. Anytime she asks, you agree. What’s better than free food, a big comfy princess bed, mani-pedis, and a pretty blonde by your side? Literally nothing tops that. You’d do anything to leave your dorm, your roommate smokes too much and never airs the place out.

You’ve never seen her dad despite spending all this time over at hers. A second home by now. All the staff know you by name. Bow their heads and greet you like they do Ashley. It gives you a real rush. Don’t even need that pat-down security check outside the gates anymore. Dude just lets you straight in.

At the dining table is where you meet him for the first time. You and Ashley, in matching slips, hers minty green and yours baby pink, sit chatting away and picking at your breakfast the way rich people do. ‘Cause god forbid you actually eat, Ashley said her mom was bulimic in winter and simply starved in spring. Anorexia is totally in this season.

“Daddy!” Ashley’s off her feet throwing herself at him the moment he steps into the room. He catches her easily, and it really is heartfelt, till they kiss. On the lips. Like. Tongue and all, spit dripping down Ashley’s chin kinda kiss. It takes you off guard, you choke on the shredded cucumber you put in your mouth, serves you right for trying to eat. No fucking way. Her hand dips low between their bodies, did she just grab his fucking balls? A ball grab is sacred. No way this is real. Oh my god. Jesus Christ, lord and saviour, this is what you get for making friends with rich girls. You’d rather the family secret be murder, not incest.

“Hi, my princess,” he coos, whispers something in her ear and winks, Ashley giggles and slaps his chest. Ew. You need to get out of this place, stat. “Who’s this, Ash?” Mr. Kennedy straightens up when he sees you, face goes stern, makes him look older. You used to find him so dreamy. Face like an 80s pornstar.

“Oh, daddy, I told you already,” she says your name and it must ring a bell ‘cause he nods his head slowly in recognition, “We’re going shopping soon, so I’ll see you later, daddy.” Ashley wraps her arms around his neck, god, you’re going to throw up a breakfast that you didn’t even eat.

They kiss and it’s even worse than last time. His hands go from her waist to her round ass, gives it a squeeze and Ashley squeals in delight. “I love you daddy.” She chirps.

“Love you too, princess,” he takes his freshly brewed coffee from the counter and leaves like he didn’t just traumatise you. Like you don’t need years of intensive therapy to get over what you just saw. No wonder her mom is still on vacation.

you: i need cbt

claire: cock n ball torture?? why??

you: ?? BITCH?

you: need to get out of here like asap

claire: told u they r part of a cult !!!

claire: illuminati

you: worse i’ll tell u when i escape

claire: send me ur will :(

“Isn’t he so sweet?” Ashley giggles as she sits back down beside you. “Daddy can drive us to the mall today, he said he’s free.”

It hurts to smile. “Oh, Ash, he’s so busy, he totally doesn’t have to!” Your voice is strained, but she doesn’t notice. “I don’t mind walking either.”

“No, it’s okay, it’ll be fun!”

It is not fun. It’s the farthest from fun actually. ‘Cause all you can see is them kissing. The scene keeps replaying in your head anytime Mr. Kennedy speaks. A man you’d once found so handsome, all suave and suited up, kissing his daughter on the mouth. Just as weird as every other politician. Worse maybe. Biden don’t get down and dirty with his daughter.

He doesn’t pay much attention to you, meets your eye in the rear-view mirror a few times, and that’s it. Daddy doesn’t like you, huh? Whatever. Ugly freak. Ashley and her mom are too pretty for this guy. Poor Ash, does she even know that it isn’t normal to kiss your dad? The thought is making you nauseous.

“Wait, can I get out here?” You blurt it out after thinking too hard. Ashley blinks at you in surprise. “I feel a little sick.” You admit.

“Oh em gee, are you, like, okay?” She covers her mouth with a dainty hand, light brows bunched up in worry, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “You’re kinda clammy, oh my gosh.”

“Yeah,” you smile at her weakly, “must be what’s going around college.”

“Daddy can drop you home,” Ashley insists, but you’d rather not let her see the state of your dorm building. The university does nothing to make it look pretty. Crumbling, old-fashioned brickwork, moss stuck to every inch of it. “He doesn’t mind.”

“No, I think the fresh air would be good for me, Ash,” you pat her shoulder, Mr. Kennedy pulls up near the curb, doesn’t spare you a second glance.

“Only if you’re sure…” She chews on her bottom lip, slender fingers intertwined with yours. Clingy. Ashley doesn’t want to let go.

“I’m sure,” you kiss her hand, “I’m sorry for cutting it short, Ash, we can go when I’m better, alright?” You tell her as you get out, she’s about to roll down the window and speak, but daddy drives off the second you shut the door. Fucking asshole.

Straight to Claire’s it is.

“I don’t believe you,” Claire laughs in your face when you recount your distressing morning. “You could've told me anything and I would believe it, but I do not think Leon S. Kennedy fucks his daughter on the low.”

“Claire, I’m serious,” you dig your acrylics into her arm, stomp your feet, “I fucking saw it, she grabbed his balls, like, like, she fuckin’ groped him!”

“Right,” Claire rolls her eyes, “Jill doesn’t even grab my balls ‘n we’ve been together since forever.”

“You don’t have balls to grab, bitch,” you’re shaky when you take the drink she offers, breaking out in a cold sweat when you think about it too hard. “Fuck, Claire,” you whine, “I thought you did journalism, can’t you like, tell someone? New York Times?”

“I’m in my second year of college, dude, I don’t think it works like that. No one’s gonna believe me when I say Kennedy kisses his kid.” Claire picks at her cuticles, she’s so over it already! Couldn’t this be her big break?

“Kissing your kid is fine, but not like that.” You keep grabbing and pinching her, trying to emphasise just how wretched it really was, but Claire tears herself free each time. “Like, that was porno shit, man.” To be fair, if Claire really did go to someone with your story, then wouldn’t they know it was you who leaked it? Then you’d be killed and it’d be framed as suicide, and so would Claire. Or a murder-suicide. They’d act like you were capable of such things. Claire might be, but you’re certainly not.

“Film it,” she shrugs, “then I’ll believe you.”

“No,” you shake your head, face grave, “Claire I couldn’t show you that, it would be too much, way too much.”

She laughs at you again, full belly laugh, pinches your cheek like you’re a toddler. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad. I think you’re just not used to it ‘cause you’re not close with your dad.”

“That has nothing to do with this!” You elbow her in the tit, “Even if I was close with my dad, I wouldn’t have my fucking tongue down his throat.”

“Suppose so.”

“Dude, if you had a dad would you be deepthroating his tongue?”

“I’m not deepthroating any guy,” Claire retorts, “Dad or not.”

“Okay, then what about Chris?”

“Gross!” She elbows you in the gut to get back at you, “Don’t even go there you fucking freak.”

“Claire, I’m like, you don’t get it, I’m fucking freaking out right now.” You can feel the tension headache building already. All the pressure is ready to pop. Is this how you die? Spontaneous combustion? In Claire’s apartment? All over the back wall that reminds you of how T.G.I Friday is decorated. Weird ass biker shit, old rock band posters. It’s ugly and this sucks. Who even listens to Guns ‘n Roses now? Axl Rose isn’t even cute and girly anymore.

“Dude, film it and I promise I’ll do something ‘bout it.” Claire holds out her pinky, you wrap your one around it. Deal. Some fucking friend she is.

Acting normal around Ashley is so hard. The hardest thing you’ve ever done. Harder than any exam, harder than any cock you’ve sucked. Just looking at her makes your tummy flip. Luckily, Mr. Ex-President ain’t around today, so you don’t have to worry about any ball fondling. No footage for Claire.

“My mom has that,” Ashley says offhandedly when you show her the Jean Paul Gaultier gown saved to your Pinterest board of needs. She’s filing her nails, popping her gum, having a good ol’ time like she hasn’t just dropped a nuclear bomb on you.

“Are you fucking serious, Ash?” You sit up in her bed, grab her by the shoulders, “I’m literally gonna throw up, can I see it?”

Ashley tilts her head to the side, and smiles cutely, “Of course you can, you can wear it if you want.” Holy shit. You’d kiss her on those gorgeous doll lips if she didn’t kiss her daddy with that mouth.

You knock her back into the bed when you hug her, “Ashley, I am literally going to take you home and put you on my shelf.”

“What?” She giggles again, “why?”

“Because you’re a fucking doll, babe, god, I could kiss you!” You could, but you won’t. Don’t really want Mr. Kennedy cooties.

Her mom’s wardrobe is significantly bigger than hers, there’s a single rack of suits that all look the same in the corner, obviously belonging to Mr. Kennedy. He gets a sad slither of space where he’s stashed a bunch of folded polos and slacks. That’s how it should be.

“I’m gonna shit myself, Ash,” you tell her when she pulls it out. There’s a fair amount of garments on the floor at this point, all costing more than you would if sold on the black market.

“Please don’t do that,” Ashley looks genuinely worried, she holds it to her figure so you can see the dress in all its glory. A lace bodice, sheer and naughty, delicate and subtle beading threaded into the patches of fabric. The skirt is sleek, sticks to the body like a second skin, but stiff like it’s unworn. Never been put to use. You’d be wearing this shit at every event no matter how small. Night out at the local bar? Yeah, you’re whipping out the Gaultier.

“It’s gorgeous,” you mumble, reaching out to touch it ever so softly like it could fall apart at any second, break apart like butterfly wings. “Are you sure I can put it on?” It sure looks good on Ashley, she’s lithe and slender in the way models tend to be.

“Duh, mom won’t notice anyway,” Ashley’s nimble fingers come to slip you out of your clothes, “it’ll fit,” she reassures you.

“Hi, beautiful,” you run your hands over the dress, it’s snug on the hips, loose on the bust. Opposite to how Ashley’s clothes fit. “Shit, Ash, I feel like I’m gonna pass out.” You can’t take your eyes off of it, the intricacies of the beadwork, the lace flora that stretches to your shape.

“You look so pretty,” Ashley fawns, “your tits look great.”

“Right?” You cup them, “I don’t even know how to thank you, Ash.”

She’s about to speak when the door to her mother’s dressing room clicks open. With his belt halfway undone, Mr. Kennedy enters, lips parting like he wants to say something. No god is on your side.

“Hi, daddy,” Ashley greets him with a kiss to the cheek today, thank fuck!

“Hi there, babydoll,” he rubs his cheek against hers, the roughness of his stubble making her cry out. “You playin’ dress up?” Good lord, get me out of here, you’re praying to whoever’s listening. The devil himself could answer and you’d take it.

“That tickles, daddy,” she clings to his arm, then nods at his question. “Mhm, doesn't it look pretty?”

Mr. Kennedy narrows his eyes at you. Alright, jeez, calm it, old man. You smile at him sheepishly, “Hi, Mr. Kennedy, sorry ‘bout this.”

“It’s alright,” he says coolly, “I’m sure it was Ashley’s idea.” He smiles at her fondly, eyes going soft and watery, he draws her in for a lip-smacking kiss.

It takes every morsel of your self-preservation to not cry out, run out screaming, take the dress with you and never come back. Move to Greenland. Meet some nice fellow and settle down with him. Are there hotties in Greenland? You stand there with a tight-lipped smile, bottom lip wobbling ‘cause your cheeks are starting to ache.

“It’s cute though, right, daddy?” Ashley’s lips are shiny with his spit as she makes her way back over to you. “Looks better than it does on mom.”

“Hm,” Mr. Kennedy raises a brow, looks you up and down. “Guess it does, Ash.”

“Will you help ‘em out of it, daddy?” Ashley asks innocently enough, she holds out her hand, “I don’t wanna break a nail if the zip gets stuck.”

“Sure, baby.” He agrees so easy ‘cause Ashley’s so sweet she gives you a cavity.

“No, it’s okay!” You turn your back away from him, reaching back to feel around for the dangling zipper, “I can do it myself, Mr Kennedy, there’s really no need.”

“I insist,” Mr. Kennedy steps forward, two strong hands on your hips and he spins you around to face the mirror. You feel his breath on your neck, the scent of his cologne wafts your way. Wearing so much you can taste it. It’s expensive of course.

You can’t stand him. Your knees go weak when his eyes catch yours in the mirror. Damn him for being so handsome. If he wasn’t such a freak, you’d do unspeakable things to him. Dip your tongue in his cleft chin, suck on his neck like a mosquito, grab his ass, his balls. Whatever he likes. He unzips it slowly on purpose. Or maybe it just feels extra long ‘cause this is so painfully awkward.

“It fits real nice,” Mr. Kennedy comments, his lips curl upwards, did he just pat your ass? Um, Ashley, hi, stop folding those clothes and control your dog of a father. “Wanted to be my wife or something, that’s why you put it on?”

“No, sir,” you say shakily, you’re so gonna vomit all over these cute heels.

“Might fit, but it don’t suit you,” the zip is open, you wrap your arm around your chest so you’re not left completely without dignity. “Low-class whores shouldn’t be playin’ house with my Ashley, alright?” He says it with a smile so blinding you almost thunk to the ground. Hold your horses, Kennedy, classism is so twenty years ago. “I know Ash likes you lots, but don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.” Oh shit. C’mon Mr. Kennedy, you called her a bimbo once. That’s a compliment these days. Then you called her ditsy, airheaded, and a plethora of other things. Did he have access to, like, all the weird shit you’ve said?

“I love Ash,” you do, you really do. There’s no one in this world sweeter than Ashley. “She’s sweet to me.” You’ve got cottonmouth. Can’t get much else out.

“Did you get it off, daddy?” Ashley peeks over his shoulder.

“Almost, baby,” he urges you to move your arm, “lemme hold ‘em up so you can take it off, sweetheart.”

In your dreams old man. Never in a million years will he get to hold your prize-winning tits. Organic and homegrown on the farm that is your body. Okay, never mind, he’s holding them. You’re shaking like crazy, fingers hooking in the fabric so you can wriggle out of the tight skirt.

“Daddy, you’re so sweet,” Ashley flutters her lashes at him, so enamoured by this ugly creep. Handsome creep you guess. With a nose you’d like to ride.

“I’m sweet, huh? Shouldn’t you give daddy a kiss then?” Are they seriously doing this when you’re standing there ass naked with your tits in his hands?

“I’ll give you lotsa kisses, daddy,” Ashley peppers kisses along his jaw, down his neck, okay, she’s getting on her knees. Strangling yourself with that Hermés scarf sounds good right now. “Down here too.” She better not be giving him that ball squeeze. Trademark Kennedy ball squeeze.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, sweetheart,” Leon clicks his tongue, Mr. Kennedy was getting old and long to say. Fuck you, Leon. “Eyes up here, yeah?”

“Sorry, Mr. Kennedy,” you mumble, hear the sound of a zipper. God, she’s really going to town. Sucking and slurping.

“Step out of it,” Leon instructs, you do so carefully, leaving the dress pooled beside your feet. “Keep those on, darling.” Oh, only if you insist, daddy. You were going to run home in these red bottoms no matter what. “Why don’t you get those lips movin’, yeah?”

What in the fuck does that mean? Does he want you to suck him off too? He does. Right. You can do this. You’ve sucked every dick on campus, what difference does his make? It might be a little more wrinkly, balls might be more saggy, but plenty of guys have fucked up sacs. When you get on your knees next to her, Ashley takes your hand, gives it a squeeze as she works the shaft. Seriously, is this bitch leaving you on ball duty?

“Oh, you look so much like mommy, babydoll,” Leon tips his head back, runs his fingers through her silky bob. Does she find that hot? Being compared to her mom? If a guy said that to you, he’d be buried in a parking lot somewhere. Ashley takes him to the hilt, her button nose buried in dark hair, her throat bulging with his cock, and she’s not even gagging. She’s got skill. You gag a hell of a lot. But most of the time guys find it hot, ‘cause they start thinking they’re real big, brag that you couldn’t even make it to the balls. Really, you’re just not much of a giver. They taste weird, the burn isn’t pleasant, you just don’t really do a lot of cocksucking. Never got the appeal.

You make a meal of it still. Try to take his fat balls into your mouth, one at a time ‘cause they’re much too big, too heavy. Shouldn’t they be drained by this point in life? He’s like fucking old. Ashley and her daddy have it all. Nice cock, fancy suits, big car. Men don’t need much else. By the time you’ve managed to fit a single one in your mouth, suckling and licking along the seam, leaving him spit-slicked, Ashley’s making him cum down her throat.

She pulls off with a slick pop, cum drooling from the tip of his heavy cock, she puts a hand on the back of your head, forces her fingers into your mouth and keeps your tongue out. You feel the velvety head of his cock, dripping his salty seed in your mouth, he’s uncut on the fat. Cute. You like ‘em uncut. They look better that way. Like they’ve got a jacket. As he pumps himself, the head peeks out past the foreskin, nudges the tip of your tongue till he’s all done.

Ashley kisses you, swapping her spit and his cum into your mouth. She tastes like her raspberry lip balm. And cum. Lots of cum. Is this some initiation into the presidential candidate cult? Count you out.

“C’mere, my good girl,” Leon helps Ashley up, brushes off her clothes, uses a handkerchief from his breast pocket to clean up her messy face. And what do you get? Nothing. Every man for themselves, bitch. The heels hinder you from succeeding, but you hold onto the cabinet and stand all on your own. Didn’t need daddy’s help.

“Daddy,” Ashley whines, “I’m all wet.” Can you leave now? You gave the blowjob, more of a balljob on your part, but still, is it cool if you just slip out the back door. Or do they want you here for all this sweet talk too?

“You’re all wet, babydoll? Don’t worry ‘bout it, daddy’s gonna make it all better.” Are you in a porno right now? Is this all a huge setup? Where are the cameras? Shit, right. Cameras. You were supposed to be filming. Too late now, Leon grabs you by the wrist. Plops down on the chaise lounge, Ashley on one knee and you on the other. He’s got you by the tit and Ashley by the waist. How charming. Really shows what he sees in you.

Ashley kicks off her panties with ease. When she slid out of that cashmere miniskirt is lost on you, and where’d her bra go? Leon cranes his neck towards her, puckers his lip for a kiss that she gives to him instantly. They kiss more than they fucking breathe. He nudges you off of his lap, manspreads so it’s harder for you to sit comfortably. Why he put you on his lap in the first place? You don’t know. Maybe just to piss you off.

His ringed fingers part her puffy pussy, pink just like her nipples. She’s slick and shiny for him, doesn’t take much work to open her up. You watch her hole flutter when he takes them out, clenching around thin air, Ashley’s greedy. Even you know that. She needs everything in excess. God. Her cunt’s just as pretty as her face. Clit and folds sticking out past her lips, all pink and wet, wanna bite down on it. Needy little pussy that’s begging to be filled. Leon pinches her bud, plucks her nipples with his free hand. Ashley jumps with each touch, her chest heaves, eyes lidded.

Leon shoves his fingers in your mouth, coated in her arousal, candied as you lick it all up, every single drop. Pussy sweet just like the rest of her. Like she’s been dipped in a pot of sticky honey. “Ain’t it just the prettiest?” Leon hums, grins at you wolfishly, “My little girl got a pretty little pussy.”

“Daddy, you’re so sweet to me,” Ashley coos, her lashes dusting over her cheeks as her eyes close, his thick fingers stretching her open.

“That’s ‘cause you’re daddy’s princess, aren’t you?” Leon’s dick is hard again, standing proud against his stomach. Calm it, old man. Isn’t going multiple rounds bad for his heart? Is he on viagra? You wouldn’t put it past him. “Daddy’s spoiled little girl.”

Ashley throws her legs over his lap, sits so she’s facing him, sinks down onto his fat cock with such ease you choke on your saliva. Oh, so she’s like a fucking whore. Who takes big dick that easy? Her pussy swallows up the widest part of his cock, the base, leaves him glistening with her slick.

“Look at that,” Leon flicks her perky nipple, “takin’ daddy so fuckin’ well. All grown up now, aren’t you, babydoll?” You really don’t know if you’re supposed to be here anymore.

“No…” Ashley‘s little hands stroke down his broad chest, her nose scrunched as she grinds down into him, “I’m still daddy’s baby.”

“You’re always gonna be daddy’s baby,” Leon melts beneath her, he stops her hips from moving. Aw, she might be too intense for the old man. That girl fucks like a bunny, you’re not surprised. “Go on, sit.” Is he talking to you? He is. You take your seat between his thighs. Why you’re listening to him is beyond you. Okay, so maybe it’s turning you on a little. Like got you sopping wet, panties see-through kinda turned on. Shit. Pussy always thinking for you. Head says one thing and next minute you know you’re on your knees ‘cause Mr. President says so.

There’s some rustling, Ashley giggling, then your face to face with her sloppy cunt speared on his cock. Oh, that’s nasty. What a nasty old man. Fucking her like that. Full Nelson is just disrespectful to a preppy little lady like Ashley. Personally, you’d take her from behind. Watch her ass jiggle.

He doesn’t need to tell you what to do. Your tongue works quicker than your brain, lapping at her swollen clit as he fucks up into her, sucking on his balls, swiping up whatever mess she leaves behind on his dick. You’ve got a hand between your legs, grinding your clit into your fingers in a desperate attempt to get yourself off. Ashley squeals, her toes curling as you latch onto her clit, you’re rewarded with a gush of her cum. Splashes your chin, dribbles down your neck, wetting your tits.

“Was that good, babydoll?” Leon hums low in her ear, teeth pulling at her pierced lobe. “Enough for you?”

“Yes, daddy,” Ashley yelps as your nose bumps her clit, tongue still working to clean her up, but it’s inevitable, each thrust of his cock gets her creamy again.

“Yeah? Baby’s all done?” Leon’s cock twitches inside of her, then he dumps his load in his kid. Stuffs his princess with her daddy’s cum. Pats her belly and cradles her as you sit on the ground dumbfounded.

“Gimme a minute ‘n we can go again, daddy,” Ashley yawns, letting him pamper her, head twisting so she can see you, a dopey smile plastered on her face.

“I’m gettin’ old, princess,” he chuckles, “don’t know if I can keep up with you.”

“Course you can, daddy,” Ashley strokes his prickly cheek, “you gotta take both of us this time, promise?”

Sorry Claire, looks like you’re not making your big break in the journalism scene anytime soon. Not like she deserves it anyway. Stupid bitch didn’t even believe you. Well, if he puts his dick in you and calls you his baby, you might let it go. Might ask Ashley if this can become a regular thing.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #ashley graham smut #ashley graham x reader #tw incest

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Picture prompt masterlist #7!! You and H just finished fucking and he takes a picture to post on his close friends but her accidentally posts it to his main and quickly deletes it, but the thought of him knowing that people saw it and he just got fucked makes him kinda horny again and you tell him to turn his phone off or smth like that🥺

What a good idea! I love it!!! Hope you like the blurb! Thanks for the inspo 🫶🏻

You were catching your breath after you’d finished riding Harry’s cock. You were smiling as he peppered kisses all over your bare chest and neck. Your pussy occasionally pulsing around him since he was still buried inside you.

“Fuck that was so good…” You hummed and then kissed the side of his head, “Did it get bigger while you were away?” You asked jokingly and he chuckled.

“Nuh-uh, that’s all you, baby. So fucking tight thought I might have to stretch you out f’me all over again. Like way back then.” He said and you sighed out a little laugh.

“Wow…those were the days…” you hummed and he nodded.

“Baby?”

“Hmmm?”

“Wanna do a post-coitus portrait with me?” He asked lowly, right up against your throat and you giggled at his question and bit your lip as you pulled him out from your neck by the hair.

“Like a saucy picture?” You asked with a curious and delighted grin and he hummed and nodded yes. “Yeah, let’s do it.” You agreed easily and he smiled at you before holding you against him with one arm while leaning over to the bedside table and grabbing his phone and you watched as he actually opened up his instagram. “Wait? On social media?! You dirty, little slut!” You teased with a playful and shocked tone and he smiled bashfully at his screen.

“Yes.” He said simply as he slid over to his story. His dimple carved deeply into his cheek as he continued smiling at his reflection now. He was so pretty to look at you and you sighed dreamily in his arms. He raised the phone a bit more so that it was level with your mouths. “Kiss me. Right on my cheek.” He instructed and you smiled and leaned in. You puckered your lips and smooched him, holding still as he wiped the smile off his mouth and snapped the picture. “That’s nice.” He mused, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah. Actually I do. Gonna post it?” You asked as he looked it over a bit more.

“Can I?” He asked you and you shrugged with a smile.

“I don’t mind.” You assured.

“OK.” He hummed as he started to type something, “How’s that?” He asked and you grinned as you read his little caption: Making up for lost time 🐇🐇❤️‍🔥

“Cheeky boy.” You chuckled and watched as he pressed post and locked his phone. “H.”

“Yes, baby?”

“You posted that on your story.”

“I know.” He chuckled and then you laughed.

“No, like your regular story! Not private!” You alerteded him and his smile dropped and his eyes grew wide in concern.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“YES! I’m positive! Hurry up and take it down!” You urged and he grabbed his phone quickly and unlocked it.

“Oh, shit…shit, shit, shit, shit!” He cursed as he saw that it already had nearly 300 views, he saved it and then deleted it quickly, but he knew the damage was done. His fans acted fast. He then reuploaded it to his private and locked his phone. “Fuck, I’m sorry that’s going to be everywhere… fuck.”

“It’s OK, It’s just a kiss on the cheek, yeah? And well, the caption’s a little spicy but it’s tasteful.” You assured and he chuckled and shook his head.

“I think you’re enjoying this…”

“A little…I don’t often get to claim you publicly. It kind of turns me on.” You said softly and he grinned.

“Me too.” He grinned back and you giggled.

“Yeah, I can tell.” You said softly as you ground down against him, “Got so hard so fast.” You said and clenched your walls and he moaned into your neck.

“What if we record an audio?”

“Please put your phone down before you butt-dial your mom or something…” you advised and he chuckled.

“Fine. Fine.” He agreed and tossed his phone to the empty side of the bed. You smiled as you draped your arms around his shoulders and slightly raised your hips before lowering them back into his and he smiled at you through hazy and lust-filled eyes. “Good girl, fuck me.”

READ MORE PICTURE PROMPT BLURBS HERE!

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry x you #harry x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles reader insert #harry reader insert #boyfriend!harry #boyfriend!harry styles #picture prompts 2 #0nlythrowharrybeaux

[shuxiii]

A ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ˡᵒᵛᵉ

ᴷᵃⁿᵍ ʰᵃᵉʳᶦⁿᵎ ʷᶦᵗᶜʰ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

My school wasn’t normal not the slightest, from flying brooms to flying rats and an invisible barrier protecting it, it was sure an odd sight for you to witness. You could call your school a magical one, even the students themselves looked less human but still human some just had cats for ears and sharp fangs in short vampires, hybrid humans, and others, you on the other were just normal student with a normal body nothing exciting at all.

Except, for one thing, the scary witch with the resemblance of a black cat who would always glare and stare at you ever since you became a student in the school. You were surprised she hasn’t put a curse on you, witches were something to be terrified of in your school of how much black magic they could do and other more. So, you expected the moment you woke up, you’d have your limbs torn piece by piece by that witch.

Her name was Kang Haerin, a name you could never forget. She only had a few friends, and she barely spoke, her aura was completely dark. Other students always warned the newcomers to avoid her, if they don’t want their entire bloodline cursed.

You wished someone told you sooner, it was too late for you. Because the moment you spoke to her the forever curse was now inflicted on you.

It was a lovely Monday morning, it was your first day in your new school. A little nervous, but excited.

The moment you walked into the classroom, everyone was nice and well-mannered, it took some time to adjust to the sight of fur ears and intimidating-looking sharp teeth.

You met a fairy-looking girl (of how pretty she was) introducing herself as Hanni, who agreed to tour you around the school.

-

‘‘This is the library where you read those boring books, careful though some books are laced with a dark curse whoever opens it!’‘ Hanni explained with a smile on her face.

You fell silent staring back at Hanni, before she starts laughing a little.

‘‘I’m messing those books are kept in a locked room’‘ She giggled, you laughed back awkwardly, still slightly startled at the thought of a dark curse placed upon you.

‘‘Um Hanni? can I go to the bathroom real quick?’‘ You asked.

‘‘Oh, sure just go straight and right you’ll see it’‘ She pointed in the hallway.

‘‘Thanks, I’ll be right back!’‘ you hurried, turning your back on Hanni.

-

You walked across the linear hallway, gazing at the historical portraits hung on the walls, you swear sometimes their eyes moved which creeps you up a little but expect the unexpected in a school filled with magic.

You were too distracted by the paintings to not notice a person coming your way, The moment you took a right you accidentally bump into a girl.

‘’Ack!’’

feeling yourself falling backward makes you hold her arms for support. it was a little late as both of you fell on the floor, you fell on your butt with the girl on top of you.

‘‘I’m so sorry-’‘ Before you could apologize, the girl hurriedly stood up, startling you a bit.

You abruptly stood up too, now finally focused on the girl. She wore a black cloak with jet-black hair.

‘‘I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I got a little distracted by the paintings, are you okay?’‘ you look around her to see if she got injured, your eyes darted to the slight red liquid dripping on her fingers.

‘‘I’m okay’‘ her voice soft-spoken, her gaze still looking down.

You quickly took your handkerchief, holding her hands on yours covering the blood that dripped on her fingers, your actions were abrupt making her startled.

‘‘Ah- did I scare you? I’m sorry, Your knuckles are bleeding, it was probably from the fall’‘ You explained, your voice filled with guilt.

You took out a band-aid with a cat for a design, and you always hand band-aids carried around, well your mom always made you carry them around for situations like this.

‘‘This might sting a little’‘ You carefully put it on the back of her hand, before blowing air against her knuckles.

‘‘My mom always told me to blow air on a bruise to help it heal faster’‘ you spoke

‘‘What’s your name?’‘ You asked, and for a brief moment, you saw her eyes.

Her eyes resembled a black cat, they were hypnotic, but before you could get a name, she quickly left not giving you any time to stop her.

and that was the first and last encounter you ever had with her, but ever since you told Hanni about the incident she prayed for your soul that you wouldn’t get cursed by her. You didn’t get it at first but now you were terrified mostly guilty but still terrified.

Yet despite being a little afraid of what will come to you, you slightly doubt how others viewed witches, sure they are malevolent in many fairytale stories but are they really?

But ever since that accident, She always glared at you. She must be really upset be upset, you have tried apologizing properly but she’d always disappear in a blink of an eye.

That is, until today.

The class shortly ended, You began packing your bag. oddly enough it was only you left in the room making it quiet, it was a few minutes before you finished packing up for the day.

As you turned around you shrieked a little falling back down to your chair, there stood the same black cloak jet-black-haired girl everyone feared of.

She was holding a small bottle that looked like a coffee cup and a thick book in both of her hands. She gazed at you.

‘‘I didn’t notice you there’’ You stuttered a little.

She motioned the cup to your face, ‘’This is for you, drink it’’ She spoke.

With care, you took the cup from her grasp and look at it before returning your gaze to her. She looked at you eagerly, eyes shining with anticipation.

At that moment, you swore the drink had poison or what and expected the worst of worst to come, from poison ivy to a snake’s venom.

You abruptly drank it, closing your eyes and anticipating the worst.

huh. that’s odd nothing happened the coffee tasted normal-

As the coffee slips from your grasp, a cloudy air emits the room, you opened your eyes to see a tense look on Haerin’s face.

that’s weird, is it me or did the view of the room get a little bigger. Your eyes darted down your hands that now... looked like paws?!

You started screaming, well barking.

‘‘Why am I dog?!’‘ You started yelling.

You glance back at a befuddled Haerin, hastily flipping through her book and muttering to herself.

‘‘There must be a mistake here, did I read the wrong spell? it should have been a love potion’‘

You were getting a little agitated.

‘‘Hey, you better find a way to fix this, my mom is allergic to dogs, and I can’t be a dog forever!’‘ You squealed (barked)

You gave Haerin a stern look as she closed her book and turned to face you. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and she looked anxious.

‘‘There is a way to fix it, well the only way’‘

‘‘And that is?’‘

‘‘There is one called a Multipurpose of lower magic, as long as the castor and the cursed share a touch the magic can be lifted immediately off the body’‘

‘‘What does that mean’’

‘‘it means let me kiss it, yn’’

‘‘let you what?’‘

‘‘A kiss’‘

‘‘A WHAT?’‘

You became increasingly anxious as she moved a little closer to you.

‘‘You’re joking right there’s got to be another way here’‘

"Nope, there isn't." Her tone of voice sounded slightly more cheerful than usual.

"You can't just kiss me. You'll be taking away my first kiss!" you exclaimed.

‘‘This was planned wasn’t it!’‘

‘‘What! No- this is purely an accident’‘

She lifted your small body, slowly pulling you close. You moved both your paws onto her lips, giving all your force to push her off.

"Wait, wait, wait! I'm not ready!" You exclaimed, quickly shutting your eyes.

You felt a soft brush against your lips, the gentle lingering sensation struck a nerve, making you feel the burn on your cheeks, without even realizing it, you were back to normal.

Both of you flushed, looking everywhere but at each other’s eyes, who knew witches could be this cruel? well a little too cruel for your heart.

A curse she cast on you with no cure, a cupid's arrow piercing your heart.

#Haerin x reader #Kang haerin #Hanni pham #Newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #Newjeans Fanfic #Newjeans fic #Newjeans #Kang haerin x reader

[lambertdiary]

Jealousy, Jealousy

"Sorry Won't Fix This" Masterlist

A/N: So I posted part two a couple of days ago and I had a few people asking for a part three, and I'm not gonna lie... I got a little carried away lol, so definitely I'll post a part 4. This was really fun to write and hopefully it'll be fun for you guys to read it! PLEASE let me know what you think 🫶🏻 Also I was watching an Andrew Garfield movie so keep that in mind.

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: angst, language, jealousy, Dalton being shitty (again)

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

After Dalton left, Y/N just stared at the door trying to hold her tears in. She was doing a good job, until Chris walked through the door and asked her what was wrong. She broke down immediately, but Chris stayed with her comforting her all night. She cried until she couldn't anymore, and all that was left was a raging headache. 

Y/N told Chris everything, she had been avoiding that subject but letting it all out made her feel a lot better. She felt bad for Chloe, she really did, but at this point she just wanted to detach herself from the whole situation and just Dalton in general, so her next step was moving on.

“You need to forget about him Y/N, he’s not worth it” Y/N nodded agreeing with her friend, but a part of her still felt like she lost someone really important.

“I know I do” She sighed deeply before continuing “I guess the last time we broke up I thought we would somehow find our way back to each other, you know?”

“Y/N, I love you and I know what you mean, but I just want you to think of all the times he did something shitty, and then tell me you still want him”

Y/N laughed a little, admitting to herself stupid her feelings were “You’re right”

“I know I am, dude. Go out, have fun and meet guys who are not gonna kiss someone else in New Year’s”

After a minute of silence, Y/N finally built up the courage to ask “Did you know?”

“Know what?” Chris asked in confusion.

“That Chloe and Dalton were like together together”

Chris thought about her answer for a moment, but ultimately decided there was no point in hiding it anymore “Sort of… I mean I knew he was getting invited to her parents’ house and hanging out with some of her friends” Y/N just nodded, a sad look still on her face “But it doesn’t matter because you’re over him now”

Chris encouraged her to go out with someone. Y/N wasn’t the type to approach a guy and ask for his number, so Chris offered to introduce her to one of her friends she thought Y/N could get along with. 

She met Andrew a couple of days later, and she was surprised when they immediately hit it off. He was cute and funny and really easy to talk to, so Y/N was excited when he started to take her out on dates. They were seeing each other almost every day, and Y/N even took him to her favourite coffee shop, telling him that she got her best work done there and how it was the best coffee she ever had. He chuckled at her statement but agreed with her, sharing his love for coffee too.

⋆ ★

Dalton didn’t tell Chloe what happened that night, of course he didn’t. He kept seeing her like nothing happened and she couldn’t be happier about it. 

The thing is, Chloe felt like she didn’t have him for a number of reasons, even when they started dating he was barely any special towards her. Sure, she would spend a lot of time with him and he would seek her attention, he even drew her for an art project but that was before they became a thing, and the portrait was just somewhere in his dorm. 

She would go there with him and see the wall with a bunch of paintings and drawings of Y/N, and before he told her about them she had no idea they used to date, but she couldn’t help but feel jealous that she never made the wall. 

So one day she decided to ask him to put it up “I’m your girlfriend now, don’t you think it’s time you put the drawing of me on your wall?”

“Uh” He looked at his art displayed on the wall, realising a lot of them were Y/N “I will” He simply replied, thinking he could maybe do it later, but the look Chloe gave him made him understand that she meant right now. So he did, he stood up and removed a few portraits, making space for the new one. He couldn’t bring himself to actually get rid of them, so he decided to just leave them on his desk. That was weeks before he told her about his past with Y/N.

The day after Y/N rejected him he concluded it was officially over, so his relationship with Chloe got a little more serious. Chloe properly introduced him to her parents, they started to have more dates and they even had ‘romantic’ weekends.

Days went by and Dalton tried his best to keep Y/N out of his mind, constantly telling himself that he was with Chloe now and that it was for the best. He wanted to be a better boyfriend for her but he sometimes forgot to put in the effort.

One day Dalton decided to get coffee after class, buying one for him and one for his girlfriend who was waiting for him in his dorm. After receiving his order, he turned around and was ready to walk out, but a familiar face stopped him.

He saw Y/N sitting at one of the tables, talking and giggling with some other guy. Dalton stared at them for a moment, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the cups he was holding. He decided it would be better if he left, but just as he started to walk again he noticed the guy stand up and make his way to the washroom. 

Before he could think about it, he found himself standing in front of Y/N, giving her a questioning stare, as if she owed him any explanations. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a demanding tone.

Y/N was both surprised and annoyed at his question. She scoffed and crossed her arms, giving him a bland tone to make him feel like she didn’t care about him “What kind of question is that?”

“I know you’re here with someone, I saw him”

“Why do you care? Aren’t you still with Chloe?” Y/N asked him, pointing at the cup with her name on it. Dalton shrugged and thought about something else to say. She had a point, he was with Chloe now so he shouldn’t care, but he did “You should probably take your girlfriend her coffee, it’s gonna get cold”

“We need to talk”

“There’s nothing left to talk about”

Before Dalton could say something, someone else joined the table “Hi, I’m Andrew” He said, sitting across from Y/N. 

“Dalton” He replied, pressing his lips together.

“He was just leaving” Y/N quickly added.

“Oh” Andrew immediately suspected she didn’t want him there “Well, nice to meet you man”

Dalton clenched his jaw, he didn’t say anything else and just gave them a quick nod before leaving the coffee shop. He was walking to his dorm and the whole time he wished he had said something clever to Andrew.

When he got to his dorm, he was received with a sweet hug and kiss from Chloe, telling him how much he has missed him. As usual, they sat on his bed and talked about their day before moving on to schoolwork. 

“So, my birthday party is this Saturday and I was thinking we could wear the same colour” Chloe said out of nowhere.

Dalton tried to hide the fact that he forgot about her birthday “Uh- yeah, what are you wearing?”

“The dress I bought last week. I told you it was for my birthday, remember?” She asked, hurt and mad he forgot such an important detail. 

He nodded his head quickly “I remember baby, I’m sorry” Dalton brought her closer to him and gave her a reassuring kiss “We’ll both look phenomenal in pink”

⋆ ★

Y/N wasn’t surprised to see Dalton, it was impossible to avoid him completely given they lived in the same building, but anytime they saw each other they just pretended the other didn’t exist, it was working just fine for Dalton until he saw her with someone else. 

Her feelings towards him definitely changed, while she still felt like she lost someone important to her, she was also disappointed at how much he had changed since the party, so they were a mix of many different things. Often she couldn’t help but wonder how different things would be if she tried harder when they were together, but at the same time she resented him for not always showing that he loved her the way she wanted him to.

“How long do we have to wait?” Andrew asked, holding his hair away from his forehead so the face mask wouldn’t stick to it.

“About 20 minutes” Y/N was smiling down at him, finishing up with the thick paste on his cheeks.

He opened his eyes and smiled back at her “Do you have like a hair thing I can borrow?”

Y/N chuckled and reached for another headband, carefully sticking all of his hair back “This is a great look on you” She joked.

They laughed as he looked at himself in the tiny mirror “I guess you’ll have to style me more often”

“I mean, you already look great all the time so I don’t think you need my help”

She watched as his smile went shy, almost sure he was blushing under the face mask. Andrew handed her the mirror and she put it back in a small vase that had a few makeup brushes in it.

“Did you make that?” Andrew asked, paying close attention to the drawings on it, recognising Y/N’s favourite flowers.

“The vase?” She asked and he nodded “Yeah, last year in a pottery class”

“A pottery class?”

“Yeah. I mean, I only went like 3 times but this is great, isn’t it?” She picked it up and examined it. It had been a long time since she did.

“May I?” Andrew grabbed it and looked at all the different colours on it “And you drew these?” He asked, pointing at the beautifully painted flowers.

“Not really, my- uh friend helped me with those, but I still did most of the job” She clarified.

“Oh…” He faked disappointment “And you had me over here thinking you were an artist”

She scoffed playfully as he took the vase from him “I am, did you see the one at the bottom?” Y/N showed him a smudged spot of paint that looked like it was supposed to be a flower “You wouldn’t get it, it’s abstract art” Andrew gave her a frisky look that made her blush  “Are you an artist?”

“Born to be but my lack of skills didn’t allow it, very tragic” Y/N giggled at his dramatics as she scooted closer to him “I can’t really draw… I mean I can, but it’s not very good” Andrew laughed “Why? Do you have a thing for artists?

A strange feeling took over her heart, but she just shook her head and forced a smile “No, just for guys that look good in headbands” She teased. Andrew felt his face get hot again and an impulse made him lean over, getting really close to her face but Y/N stopped him.

“You don’t wanna taste this face mask, it’s gonna linger for days” Andrew shrugged his shoulders and took a quick look at her lips, and then back at her eyes.

“You already have that effect on me”

Y/N was speechless. For a moment they stared at each other intensely, Y/N almost gave in, but the door swinging open made both of them jump.

“Oh- sorry to interrupt” Chris said slowly, dropping her things on her bed.

They turned red and quickly got away from each other, trying to cover their embarrassment “You didn’t, we’re just doing face masks”

“Without me?” Chris joked.

The three of them stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, and as soon as Andrew left Chris couldn’t help but tease Y/N about what she almost witnessed.

“So, I see you two are really getting along”

“I guess” Y/N replied, unsure of how to feel.

“What? Do you not like him?”

“I do… I think I do” She stopped to think about it for a moment “It’s been great but honestly i don’t know if I can take it any further”

“Y/N he’s like perfect for you” Chris stared at her friend, waiting for an explanation “Why not?”

“Because he’s not Dalton”

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert angst #dalton lambert fluff #insidious #insidious 5 #insidious the red door #ty simpkins

[evita-shelby]

Fics wth dad Tommy are my weakness Can i have one with him fathering his boys across the years, sometimes he does well, other times not so much. But his wife is always there to make sure that her boys are good to each other and take care of one another because that's how a shelby family work.

The Shelby Boys

Gif by @perioddramasource

1925

Charlie is three when he draws on the pristine ivory walls of Arrow House.

Tommy crouched down beside him and remembered he couldn’t be too harsh on a boy of three. He wouldn’t raise his children like his parents raised him. Besides, his wife would murder him if he ever raised a hand against Charlie and his unborn sister.

“What did we say about drawing on the walls, Charlie?” he asked the boy who concentrates on his stick figure portrait as if he were Michelangelo and this was his Sistine chapel.

“Not to.” The boy said stopped his drawing. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

“Oh no, boy, the one you’re going to have to apologize to is Frances ---and Sandra and Molly--- who have to erase your masterpiece of the walls.” Tommy ruffled his hair.

“What’s that?” the boy asks confused.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can go downstairs to the room where your mum keeps all the paintings, so I can show you.”

----

1935

“No.” Tommy shook his finger at three-year-old Gabriel who promptly ignores him.

“What did we say about the N word?” his wife asks condescendingly. She mocks him because little Gabe has learned to tune out the word no.

Charlie and Diane had been angels compared to Gabriel Thomas Shelby.

Polly had been right to give the boy his name.

“We don’t draw on the walls, Gabe.” Tommy tried again.

“Why?” the toddler whined, stamping his little feet.

Thomas swore that was his son’s favorite word.

“Because Aunt Polly will be disappointed in you.” He tells his little boy. Polly was the closest thing they had to a grandmother, neither he nor his wife had a living mother to dote on their children, so it fell on Polly to fill the role.

“’m sorry.” His little boy pouted sadly and looked at the floor. Couldn’t say it properly yet, and that was probably what made it so easy for Gabe to be forgiven so easily.

----

1932

Charles Henry Shelby is ten when he says the unimaginable.

“I hate you!” Charlie yells and slams the door.

“Charles Henry, you open this door right now—” he begins, but his wife stops him.

“If you yell at him, it will make it worse.” She says like a sage.

A sage holding their two-year-old girl on her hip and making sure the six- and five-year-old go straight into the kitchen for snacks.

His wife was born to be a mother he thinks.

If only fatherhood came as easy as motherhood did to her.

“Charlie, kid, tell me what’s wrong.” Tommy groans as he sits beside the locked door. He had some hints as to what this outburst was about, but if he got Charlie to speak about it, he’d call it a victory.

“Why do you make me be friends with people who hate me?” he sniffled from the other side of the door.

“You don’t have to be friends with them, Charlie.” He told his boy. “I may work with their fathers, but you don’t have to put up with them.”

“That’s the problem, you work with people who hate people like us!” Charlie insisted.

Thomas would’ve thought that because Mosley had lost his seat last year, things would be better. He didn’t have to join this new party of his, but it seemed the issues had come to Charlie in the form of racist schoolchildren.

“You can say racist, Charlie.” Tommy suggested.

“Fine.” His son grumbled and then asked. “Why do you work with racist people?”

A question that Tommy couldn’t answer truthfully.

Or perhaps he could, his children could keep secrets.

“What if I told you this was a secret mission, like the ones your mummy did when she lived in Mexico.” He begins.

----

1936

“I hate you!” Gabe yells, stomps all the way to his room and slams the door hard enough for him to wonder if Johnny Dogs will have to take a look at the hinges again.

Gabriel’s ten and its 1936. Two entire years after Tommy stopped pretending to be a Fascist sympathizer and declared himself Mosley’s enemy.

Suffice to say it didn’t make things easier for his children.

“Do you want to talk about it, kid?” he was forty-six now, it was getting difficult to sit by the door and coax his children to speak to him.

“No.” Gabe said with angry tears.

“Fine, I won’t push you to talk if you don’t want to.” He said and remained there to show his son he wasn’t alone, and that Tommy loved him even if he claims to hate him.

It’s been half an hour when Gabe speaks again.

“Are you gonna stay there all night?” his boy asked, concerned now.

They were stubborn as mules, times like these made him smile because Polly was right to name him Gabriel Thomas.

“Pol said never go to bed angry, you know. Can’t sleep if you still hate me.” He tells the boy.

Polly was God to them, Saint Polly of Small Heath who was all wise and all loving.

“I don’t hate you, daddy.” The ten-year old said. Been a while since he called Thomas daddy, said he was not a baby and called him dad instead.

“What happened in school today, Gabriel?” he asked again.

He hears the lock on the door unlock and let himself fall when the little boy opened the door. It was stupid, felt stupid doing it, but he knew it made the children more comfortable around him.

“I got in a fight.” He answered, head still bowed, looking at his feet.

“Did you win?” Tommy asked his son and the remorseful little boy nodded.

Should’ve just named him Thomas, Polly, the man thinks as he tries to explain why violence is not always the answer.

----

1939

Charles Henry Shelby is seventeen when he brings his first girlfriend to dinner.

This was a week after war was declared on Germany and Churchill made him part of his Cabinet.

Mary Churchill was the last girl Thomas had expected to see with him.

“They’ve been friends since they were seven, Tom, Clementine even hinted at it at the last picnic we went to.” His wife points out as they dress for dinner. “Swallow your dislike for Churchill and the Tories and welcome your future daughter-in-law like she’s just another girl, love.”

Thomas said nothing and drank the rest of his whiskey.

“Aren’t you going to say something, dad?” Charlie asked concerned.

“Welcome to the family, Mary.” Tommy manages to say.

----

1943

Gabriel Thomas Shelby is seventeen when he brings his third or fourth girlfriend to dinner.

If Thomas thought Mary being his daughter-in-law was terrible, this took the cake.

“Love, I think I’m having a stroke.” Tommy whispers to his wife.

Lucia Changretta.

Luca Changretta’s daughter.

Diane tries to keep the peace, his wife pretends its all fine, Flora had Andy sweating bullets for whatever reason he’ll yell at her later and Charlie is wondering how to explain this to Mary in the most discrete way he can.

“Welcome to the family, Lucia.” Tommy says covering up Mary’s surprised gasp.

Somewhere in hell, Luca is being forced to watch this too.

Other dad!Tommy fics: Diane Elizabeth (Diane) and Six years old (Florence)

#peaky blinders fanfiction #oc fanfiction #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x wife!reader #tommy shelby x reader

[mirrorball-writings]

All You Need is Pain

request: @looneylupinsworld: hii could you please write an imagine with the marauders x fem reader (5th year) maybe she gets bullied or something for not having friends and being a loner and like they take care of her and befriend her and she finally makes some friends ? thank youu!!

WC: 3.6k

Reading time: 13:15

Warnings: bullying, physical/verbal abuse, unforgivable curses

I stared out the library window, momentarily forgetting about the mountain of homework that sat in front of me. Even though it was only the beginning of the term, fifth year was OWLs year, so we already had a lot of work. Still, it was hard to concentrate on my homework considering the beautiful leaves outside, not to mention the fact that the infamous Gryffindor boys, or the “Marauders,” as they called themselves, had also taken seats at the library tables and were incredibly loud. I turned my attention away from the orange and yellow covering the landscape and back towards the essay I was working on, but I couldn’t get myself to focus with the incessant chatter and laughter from a few tables down. I sighed and packed up my work, knowing I’d surely be able to get more work done in my dorm without so much noise.

I strolled through the corridors of the castle, taking in my surroundings and humming one of my favorite Muggle songs I listened to back at home. I was looking at one of the portraits on the wall — a particularly beautiful one with a girl in a flower garden — when I ran into someone and dropped all my books on the floor. 

“I’m so sorry,” I stuttered out, while hurrying to gather all my things back into my arms.

I heard a girl scoff. “Watch where you’re going next time. If you had messed up my robes I’d have to get you to pay for them.”

I picked up my last book and finally looked up, my eyes meeting those of a Slytherin girl, although I didn’t know her name. She had never talked to me before, but I had seen her parading around the castle with her crew of Slytherins: Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa and Bellatrix Black, Severus Snape, and the like. I hurriedly apologized to her again and rushed off, not wanting to prolong our interaction.

Somehow, I managed to get all my work done, but the next day I had already been assigned plenty more. I trudged through the corridors on the way to my next class, arms weighted down with mounds of books and parchment. As I turned the corner, I saw the girl from the previous night, plus some of her gang. They met eyes with me briefly, but I turned to stare straight in front of me and walked as quickly as I could past them.

“Not so fast, Wilson,” I heard, right as I was about to turn out of their sight. I took a deep breath and turned around to see none other than Lucius Malfoy sneering in my direction.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asked, feigning interest. When I didn’t answer, he snarled, “Answer me when I speak to you! Or are you too much of a scaredy-cat? Seems weird to me that they’d put a timid little mouse in the house of the lion.”

I mumbled, “I was just going to the library.”

The whole group laughed, sharing meaningful glances between one another, smirking and snickering at me.

This time, Bellatrix spoke up. “Wow, Wilson. We all knew you were a loser, but I never would’ve expected that you’d be such a weirdo that you couldn’t even find another weirdo to do homework with you. I mean, you may be a loser but at least you get good grades. It must be a shame to have nobody even like you enough to get homework answers from you.”

I shook my head and turned around, walking the rest of the way to the library. I knew that would probably upset them, since they didn’t tell me I could leave, but I didn’t want to just stand there and let them keep harassing me. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t mind not having many friends, but I also knew there was some truth in what Bellatrix had said. I was known for being smart, and yet nobody ever asked me for help on homework or assignments, much less to help them study. I had never really tried to make friends with anybody, and I generally liked being alone, but I suppose maybe it would’ve been nice to have someone to talk to or laugh with every now and again. Of course, the other girls in my dorm were perfectly nice to me, but they all were in their own little friend group, and I was never included in the things they did. I figured that after five years it was too late to try and make friends, so I just shook my head to myself and got started with my homework for the night.

I tried to avoid the group of Slytherins after that, because as I figured, they were not happy that I had left before we were done with “our little chat,” as they called it. The few times I did pass them in the halls, they made snide remarks, but we didn’t really have any more interactions like the first one, since there were generally other students or professors in the halls when they would see me. So, thankfully, I was able to avoid being stuck in a similar situation for a while. 

I didn’t really know why they seemed to have it out for me, but I knew that the only way they really knew who I was was because I had run into that girl one night. They didn’t even really seem to have a problem with me — I figured that they just picked on me because I was easy. I didn’t stand up for myself and I didn’t have any friends to stand up for me either. Or maybe they picked on me in hopes that they could get to the Marauders, who had pranked them more times than anyone could count. They knew that I wasn’t friends with the Marauders, but they also knew that we were in the same house and the same year, and they sarcastically asked me many times if I was going to go ask them for help. Although I could tell they were trying to be patronizing when they said I should go get the Marauders to help if I couldn’t handle them on my own, I was fairly certain that they somewhat hoped that I would, so that they could have an opportunity to get back at them for all the things the Marauders had done to them in the past.

A few weeks later, they caught me again when I was on the way to class. This time, they cut to the chase.

“Look, Wilson. Our deal is this: either you start telling us about how to ruin the pranks of those boys in your year, or we make your life miserable.”

I shrugged. “I don’t really know them.”

Bellatrix, who was the one talking to me at the moment, scoffed. “You’re in the same year and the same house. The only way you wouldn’t know them is if they’re trying to avoid you. Which I guess wouldn’t be surprising considering that everyone else seems to, otherwise you might actually have some friends.”

I looked around uncomfortably, trying not to meet her eyes. “They don’t avoid me, we’re just not really friends. And I don’t really want to sell you information anyway.”

The group looked at each other before Bellatrix responded, “Fine, then. Get ready to see a lot more of us.”

I continued to try to avoid them, but they lived up to their promise. Every few days they would catch me in the corridors as I was heading to class or the library, and they would pick on me, tease me, call me names, and generally belittle me. After a while, though, I learned to live with it, since it seemed that their insults were fairly limited. All they would say was that I was a loser, a loner, a nobody with no friends. I knew I had no friends, so I tried to not mind, although I can’t deny that their insults started to get to me eventually, and I started to wonder whether maybe I was just so weird that nobody wanted to be friends with me at all. I had always thought that it was just because I was too shy to try and make friends, but maybe they were right, and people would want to be my friend if I wasn’t such a loser.

After a few weeks of teasing, they seemed to get bored, and started to escalate things to physical harassment. They would push me around, and sometimes even hit me, just to try to get a reaction out of me. I was surprised that they would go to this much effort just to try to get back at the Marauders, but I supposed that they had a reputation to uphold and the incessant pranks were making it difficult for them to maintain the respect they wanted, and they somehow figured that if I got tired enough of their treatment that I would go to the Marauders and get them to deal with it. I couldn’t possibly understand the logic of the plan, but I figured that they hoped that if the Marauders got involved, they could blackmail, threaten, or scare them somehow into not pranking them anymore. Either way, I thought they would have realized by that point that I wasn’t the way for them to get what they wanted, but maybe by then they just enjoyed picking on me.

This trend of teasing continued for quite a while, and I was starting to feel drained. I was tired of worrying about where they were at all moments of the day, and I was tired of trying to cover up the fact that they had been hurting me — physically and mentally. Although nobody really looked out for me most of the time, the girls in my dorm had noticed something was up, and tried to get an answer out of me. I didn’t want to tell them that I was being picked on, so I tried to make excuses, even if they weren’t particularly believable. 

Eventually, they seemed to get bored again, and this time escalated it further. The first time they ever hexed me was when they were asking again for me to give them a chance to get back at the Marauders. When I said no, they hexed me. It wasn’t really harmful, and it wore off in a few minutes, but it still signified a new level of the degree they would go to. I left that particular meeting shaken up, but still not willing to bring the situation to anyone’s attention.

As the weeks went by, it got more and more difficult to hide what was going on from the girls in my dorm. There were multiple times that I was late getting somewhere, or they saw the aftermath of an interaction — whether that was bruises on my arms or evidence of a hex. I still tried to deny anything was happening, but they were too smart for my excuses, and they eventually figured out that someone was picking on me. From that point, it wasn’t hard for them to figure out who it was. Apparently, although they didn’t tell me this, they decided to give those Slytherins a piece of their mind, and try to convince them to stop.

I didn’t know that the girls had done this until the day after their confrontation. When the Slytherins caught me in the corridors that day, I could tell that something was different. Instead of their usual attitude, which treated me more as a plaything, they seemed genuinely angry, which surprised me, since I had no recollection of doing anything in particular to upset them.

Lucius was the first one to talk to me. “Who else have you told?”

I stared at him blankly before responding, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughed coldly. “Don’t play that innocent game. We all know you went and told your little friends about what was going on, who else have you told? You’re a goody-goody, so no doubt you’ve told a professor. Who have you told?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t said anything to anyone.”

“Well, then how did those girls in your year know that we were having these little meetings?”

“I—I don’t know. I didn’t tell them.”

I was starting to get scared at this point. In the past, they hadn’t really done anything to actually harm me, but up to this point they hadn’t really been angry. Now that they were, I didn’t know to what extent they would go to take out their anger. Thankfully, before I could find out, a professor turned the corner, so they backed away. However, before we could part ways, I saw a look on their faces that said, unmistakably, I ought to prepare myself for the next time we meet.

Later, the girls in my dorm confronted me. They told me that they had talked to the Slytherins, and that they knew they had been picking on me. I said that I already knew about their conversation, so they asked if they had done something again today. Now knowing that they already generally knew what was happening, I figured that there was no reason to deny anything anymore.

“They stopped me today in the halls, but they didn’t really do anything.”

The girls looked at each other before Lily spoke. “Do you think they’re going to do something?”

I nodded. “Before they walked away, they had this look on their faces, like they wanted to do something really bad. But they didn’t have time to do it.”

They looked concerned, but I waved it off and said it would be fine. They hadn’t ever really done anything to hurt me before, so I figured they wouldn’t really do anything too bad.

The next day, they saw me again. This time, it was the evening, so professors were less likely to be roaming the halls. I had just left the library, yet again trying to escape the ruckus of the Marauders. I tried to turn away when I saw them, but they noticed me before I could.

“Ah, Wilson, we meet again,” said Severus.

I backed towards the other side of the corridor.

“Don’t act so afraid. You brought yourself into this. Let this serve as a reminder that we have a deal. If you want this to stop, you have to follow through with the deal and let us get back at the group that has humiliated us all these years. If not, nothing changes. Understood?”

I nodded, afraid of the raised wands pointed towards me. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Severus laughed. “It’s too late for that now, isn’t it?”

Before I could prepare myself, I heard a word I had never heard outside of a classroom. I knew that these people would do awful things, but I never thought that even they would go to this level of cruelty. And yet…

“Crucio!”

I wasn’t sure who said it or how long the spell was working. All I knew was pain coursing through my body — every bone, muscle, and vein in my body screaming with shooting, burning pain. It was worse than any pain I had ever felt before. I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t see, and I couldn’t think; I could only feel, and I could only feel pain. It was the purest pain I had ever experienced, and I could do nothing about it. I could feel myself writhing on the ground like a bug that’s been stepped on, but I couldn’t bring myself to get up. My vision was covered with bright white, with pain. All I felt was pain.

I didn’t know how long it had been happening, but somewhere in the distance — or, perhaps, right next to me, but sounding distant due to my decreased senses — I heard someone shout “Expelliarmus!” and the pain started to ebb away. Even once my body had stopped burning with pain, I remained lying down with my eyes closed, willing myself to get up. I tried to lift myself up off the ground, but I couldn’t.

I heard footsteps approaching me and felt someone kneel down, presumably to check if I was still alive. Someone tapped on my shoulder, and I forced myself to open my eyes, even if only to curl up tighter and clutch my head afterwards because of the light of the corridor. However, the split second my eyes had been open was enough, and I couldn’t deny what I saw. Remus Lupin.

I was still lying curled up on the floor when I felt strong arms scoop me up and begin to carry me towards what I assumed was the common room. In normal circumstances I would be beyond embarrassed and would demand to walk, even if I was in an unfit state, but I was still in shock and still had no ability to form coherent thoughts. After a minute of walking, I felt myself being lowered down onto the familiar couch of the Gryffindor common room, and I felt a blanket being laid over my numb body.

Eventually, I was able to open my eyes, and I was met with the very concerned stares of four boys that I had never seen concerned about anything before. I shied back into the couch cushions, wishing they would look away, wishing I could disappear from their gazes. However, there was no such luck.

“Are you okay?” asked Sirius.

Remus lightly hit Sirius in the arm and said, “Don’t be thick, Sirius, of course she’s not okay!” Turning to me, he continued, “Can we do anything? Do you need something to eat? Drink? Anything? We could go get the girls if you want.”

I shook my head.

The boys looked at each other, and Remus said, “That’s a pretty intense curse… it can really mess you up. I have some chocolate though, that helps. I’ll go get some.”

I shook my head again, but he had already left to go get some. When he came back, he forced me to eat it, even though I didn’t want to. However, I supposed that he was right, since it did restore me and my senses a little bit.

After a few minutes of silence, James spoke up. “So, have they ever done that before?”

I shook my head once more. “They’ve hexed me and such, but never anything like that.”

“It’s good we came when we did. The girls told us to go make sure everything was okay when they saw you leave on your own. It would’ve been better if we had come sooner, because it looked like they had been going at it for a while, but if we hadn’t come when we did… who knows what could’ve happened. You should probably stay away from them, though.”

I chuckled a little. “I try to.”

This time, Sirius made an offer. “Well, you can always hang around us if you want. That way they won’t catch you alone again.”

“I don’t want to intrude, I know you guys are a pretty close group of friends, and I don’t want to get in the way of that — I mean, I’m not exactly the type of person you’d want to hang out with.”

Remus shook his head. “Nonsense! You seem super cool, plus it might be nice to finally hang out with someone else with some brain cells.”

I laughed and gave them a strong maybe. They took that as a yes, and told me to meet them in the common room for breakfast. They started to head up to bed, but my body was still too drained to get up and go to my dormitory to go to sleep.

Remus noticed that I wasn’t getting up to go to bed, and asked whether I’d like for him to stay down in the common room with me. I told him he could go up if he wanted, but I was thankful that he seemed to understand the language of anxiety enough to know that that meant “yes, but I don’t want to make you or myself feel like I’m forcing you to,” and he sat down on the couch next to me. Listening to the fire, I slowly felt myself relaxing, letting the tension from this evening die down, and I slowly, slowly, fell asleep.

The next day, I did indeed meet the rest of the group in the common room for breakfast, and I realized that it was nice to have a group of people to talk to. Even though I spent the first few days mostly listening and not talking much, I started to open up a little bit. Thankfully, they never really mentioned the circumstances under which we met initially, but they did sandwich me whenever we walked past a particular group of Slytherins. I still liked having some alone time sometimes, but it was also nice to sometimes have people to hang out with. They made me laugh and they gave me comfort, and they were just another source of joy. I figured that even though our meeting was far less than ideal, things seemed to have worked out for the better, and I was glad it was them who had stopped the curse that night.

Thank you so much for the request!! One thing about me is that I am definitely a sucker for hurt/comfort so I tend to like writing those kinds of stories. I know that this wasn't exactly what you asked for but I tried to follow the prompt as best as I could, although I admit I got a bit carried away in the story as I was writing. Hopefully you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!

#harry potter #marauders #platonic #platonic fanfiction #platonic imagine #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #marauders imagine #platonic marauders imagine #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black

[thebiggestdogtbd]

A Nice Walk 8/10/1347

Asolear Haven

A young she-wolf wearing a blue silken dress with white hems leans her right side against an oak doorframe. Her steel gray fur bristles at every movement the one in front of her makes, her left hand brushes the cream-colored neck fur as she watches the one within the dark red walled bedroom. Her emerald, green eyes ogle a male wolf. She watches his dull gray furred; muscular arms flex as he buckles the belt of his trousers, she silently swoons as his toned brown chest stretches as he pulls the light blue tunic over himself. The gray faced male wolf sits on their bed, the violet quilt bows to his weight, and he begins to pull his black boots on. Glancing up, he jumps with a start upon noticing the gray wolf, his hand over his chest as he exhales.

“By Nett, Elena, how long have you been standing there?” the surprised male asks as she comes to sit beside him on the bed.

“Not long enough.” She hums resting her head on his shoulder, her emerald eyes alight with adoration, “I love you, ‘Zio.”

The male turns to her, softly brings his hand to her muzzle, and gently plants a kiss on her lips, “I love you more than the moons, my dear.”

Looking at their portrait on the wall behind him, she hums again, “Something is missing from the canvas.”

“What is it?” he asks turning to look at the image, concerned they were scammed on their painting.

“I’m probably imagining things.” She sighs with delight, turning him to face her again, looking into his fiery amber eyes, “Would you like to walk with me to the pond?”

“Of course, Love.” He smiles, “It’s a beautiful morning.”

She smiles and stands. Holding her right hand out, the male takes hers and follows her out of the bedroom and into the oak floored hallway, white walls decorated with trinkets and paintings. The main entrance of the home is decorated with his well fit steel armor and weapons. His family crest embroidered on a banner above the hearth in the shape of a golden wolf’s ear.

Elena looks at ‘Zio every so often with an eager smile. It had been ten years since he freed her from the slavers. She was wary of him at first, afraid he would put her back in to the slave trade, but he taught her how to read, how to mend flesh, and how to protect herself. She was not the only one he freed from slavery, everyone in town was saved by him. Without him, the town would not exist, nor would the children be playing in the cobblestone streets.

The morning summer sun warms the town, white smoke billowing from the inn’s chimney paints the cloudless cerulean sky. The faint smell of fresh baked bread wafts through the air, and the laughing of children echoes from the market. An axe splits wood for the fire. The two get approach the inn and meet a tall, muscular grizzly bear.

“Fabrizio; Elena, how are you this morning?” a brown bear speaks with a friendly smile as the pass by the innkeeper.

“We’re doing fine, Rinaldo.” Elena speaks holding her husband’s hand, “We’re heading over to the pond.

“Aye, I’m all Elena’s today, my friend.” Fabrizio smiles, “How’s Emilie doing?”

The bear sighs, “She’ll be alright, just a little bruised. I told her the moss on those rocks behind the inn are slippery, but she doesn’t listen. She’s just like me.”

Elena speaks up, “Send her to our home later, I can teach her how to brew an herb into a tea to soothe the pain.”

“Thank you, Elena, I will.” The bear says with a grin, “Ah, I’ve taken too much of your time anyway, go have fun.”

The wolves say farewell and walk through the center of the town market. The crisp smell of breads, steamed broccolis and potatoes, and the heavenly sweet, honeyed cakes linger heavily in the air, as well as the shouts of the vendors. Elena hesitates in front of a floral vendor, glancing at a bouquet of white lilac surrounding a trio of roses. Without saying a word, Fabrizio releases her hand and buys the bouquet for her.

“Oh ‘Zio, you didn’t have to.” She gasps in surprise as he picks the bouquet up for her, “It’s quite beautiful, but you di-”

“I know, but I like watching you smile.” He grins looking into her eyes.

Her skin beneath her fur brightens red as she blushes with a smile and accepts the flowers with both of her hands. Now that he looks at her closer, her steel gray fur seems more vibrant, the cream neck and chest fur seems brighter as well. She quickly wraps her arms around his neck with the floral boutique in her hand. He does the same and inhales her sweet lavender perfume.

The noise of the market fades as he holds her close, like he did three years ago when they wed. The universe stops in its tracks as the musical sound of her voice whispers in his ear.

“I’m pregnant.” She says holding him tight.

The wolf stops, did he hear her correctly?

“What did you say?” he asks with confusion.

She lifts her eyes up to meet his amber ones, “We’re having a cub.”

Fabrizio swallows, “We’re going…”

“We’re going to be parents.” She grins and lovingly gazes up into his eyes, “Thank Kata, our cub will live in a safe town with friends.”

The male stays silent for a moment, his wife worried that he doesn’t like the news.

“I’m going to be a father?” he asks thinking it’s a joke to receive a nod, “I’m going to be a father!”

He pulls her closer; kisses her lips, “I love you! Elena, this is wonderful!”

Her cheeks burn brighter red, “I wanted to tell you by the pond. And the flowers… I couldn’t bare holding a secret anymore.”

“Come, let’s go to the pond.” He suggests, “To escape the crowd and plan for our newborn.”

“Would you be upset if it was a girl?” Elena looks away, knowing men of his ranking wish for a son.

“Absolutely not!” he answers truthfully pulling her gaze back up to his, “Our cub will be loved all the same. And I will be there alongside you, my love… my two loves.”

#furry fiction #fantasy writing #furry fantasy #worldbuilding #short story #family #a normal day

[retrowaving1]

My painting of Basia in 2023 / My drawing of “the Queen” Basia (to the left) and princess myself as a cat ( to the right  ) in 2010 - yes, I was a weird child  :D

Despite the description, this post is going to be deeply personal   One month ago, I lost my dearest friend and one of the most beloved family members - my cat Basia. She was fighting a lymphoma since 2020, when she also had a surgery, but even afterward, the problem returned and started progressing again. By the end of May, my mom, who, together with the rest of my family, currently lives in Ukraine, wrote me a message that Basia stopped eating and drinking, and had trouble walking. Clearly, she was in pain and couldn't function anymore. We made a painful mutual decision to put her down the next day, so she wouldn't have to suffer anymore. 

That day, I called my parents on Telegram to say goodbye to my pet. She was looking very ill, she lost most of her weight, and her fur, once silky and smooth, was looking like hedgehog spines. I cannot choose the words (even in my native language, let alone English) to describe the emotional state I was in, knowing that I couldn't be there for her at that moment. I felt guilty and I was so sorry. However, there was nothing to be done. The next day, that was the 1st of June, her 14th birthday, a vet came over to my parents' house and sent her to her last, peaceful sleep. My parents buried her at a beautiful, safe place near the river together with her favorite toy, a mouse, which she had since she was a kitten. 

Basia was an amazing cat. She was very loving and supportive, as much as a cat can be for a human, and even more. In a way, Basia provided me with advice, when I needed one, by gently biting me on my hand when I was misbehaving as a teenager and not accepting my abusive ex-boyfriend into the family, as if she was protecting me. She was an extremely wise pet. She also was my bestie. We were together since I was 8, and she was a 2 months old little piece of fluff. She used to support me through my pain and health issues, both physical and mental. 

She was my painkiller and my inspiration. When we adopted Basia, I had been attending art school for about one year. I have always liked painting, but if before Basia I would paint trees and barbie dolls, after I got her - everything was about her. I used to paint her in different costumes, as if she was a human. Once I painted her on an a2 canvas in my school uniform and I think this work won some kind of competition, and even was hanging on the art school’s wall for some time (even though it actually was awful, if you ask me now XD). 

I guess what I want to say is that I loved that cat so much I could honestly paint her forever and even write short stories about her, as she had her own character and her approach to life, and her eyes were always filled with some unattainable cat wisdom. I truly believe that this cat had a huge influence over my interest in arts and was my first-ever muse. Thus, the most reasonable homage I can pay her is her last portrait, which would capture her young, silky and beautiful, the way I remember her, sitting on the porch of our cottage.

Basia, my dearest pet to whom I owe so much, I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you in 2020, when you first got sick, and in 2023 when your time came, but I hope you didn't hold grudges against me at the moment when you found your final peace, as you have always been in my heart and no other pet will ever replace you. I still rewatch the videos of you, jumping and playing with your mouse, and I appreciate you so much for fighting this horrible disease for such a long time. You were always so strong. Thank you for all the happy memories and for all of your support throughout the years of our mutual friendship. Thank you for everything. I love you and may your cat soul, wherever it is right now, rest in peace.

_______________________________

#pet #cat #cat art #animals #artwork #art #artists on tumblr #cat painting #digital art #digital aritst #family #illustration #art progress #love my cat #basia

[fragileizywriting]

“expectations!” kitty screams. a full-bodied scream, rattling the portrait on the wall next to the couch, shaking the glasses on the table. “everyone— everyone expects things from me, i’m— oh my god.”

“kitty?”

“i’m— i’m gonna pass out,” she wheezes. “i’m having a breakdown. i cant do this. i have no sense of identity.”

“what do you—” he follows her to the living room.

“nothing i do is chosen by me. everything i do is chosen by my parents— my family— no one sees me like an adult. they see me as some kind of child hybrid. old enough to pay taxes, too young to spend my money to make the taxes happen.” she sits. lays down. hiding her face with her hands, letting her transformation unstitch in the middle of adrien’s apartment. plagg phases into view, petting her hair with a worried look. “expectations. expectations. i cant exist without expectations. i don’t exist, sunshine.”

“of course you do. of course you exist.”

“i don’t have me. i have facets of me. squirreled away to make myself advertising friendly, but for my parents. for my friends. for paris. and every single one my family just thinks im incompetent in them anyway. my family doesn’t let me pick anything. i bet you i cant go to the store and buy my juice because i should’ve bought the other one. im made to think im being unreasonable when i want to buy something for me—”

“breathe for me.”

she sobs. “i can’t do this. no one— i— i don’t have things that i like.”

he brings her a cup of water. but doesn’t dare to tell her to drink it. “there’s a lot of things about you that is you, though. you exist. for example, you like plants.”

“do i like plants? or is it that plants were one of the only things my family vetted for me to be a reasonable opportunity for me? a little hobby?”

oh. she might be onto something here— he sees where the exhaustion is coming from. “you like me.”

“i do,” she whispers. downing the water in one go, putting the cup on the coffee table, and laying back down. “but my uncle is the reason why we became friends to begin with.”

“i guarantee you if i weren’t mister bug we’d still be together.”

“if you weren’t mister bug, i don’t think you would’ve left me in your room that night.” she looks back up to the ceiling. “can i be something without people telling me how to be it?”

“what do you want to be?”

“i have no idea. i’ve been stuck in this that i don’t know— don’t even have the faintest idea— i have no clue. i don’t know the things i like. and i’m so scared.”

“this isn’t something that can be solved tonight,” plagg sighs. finally breaching the silence when adrien struggles to find words. “but just with everything, we’ll find it. whoever kitty is, and whoever she’s supposed to be, we’ll find it together. even if that means we gotta get through the hard parts first.”

#speakizys #sharks and sugar #very fun that sharks and sugar is a literal representation of my own life at every given time #i’m so sorry kitty you really struggle a lot because of me #what else am i supposed to do with all of this internal problems???? #i only talk to a therapist on fridays and it is Not friday rn so it’s up to You kitty

[purplesurveys]

1522

Have you ever written a song?: Just when I’ve had to do it for class. < Same, though I haven’t had to do this since like, grade school so it’s definitely been a while. I wouldn’t be interested in penning a song just on my own.

What was the last drink you had?: Coffee.

Do you ever feel numb?: I’m on autopilot at my job these days. I’ve stopped finding fulfillment from it for the most part and when faced with stressful situations I kind of just go into overdrive in a very dead way until it gets resolved, hahaha.

Which do you think would be scarier to experience, an avalanche or tsunami? :   Both are horrific but tsunamis are realistically more likely to happen where I live so I’ll have to go with that.

Do you currently have a honey jar in your pantry?: We do. It was part of the company’s Christmas gift box last year.

Do you always find a silver lining in bad situations?: Yes, I give it a shot every time. I try to avoid being pessimistic.

Do you prefer being inside or outside?: It depends on the occasion. Like if I’m just relaxing, I like to stay indoors but have a great outside view. But if I’m having dinner or drinks with friends, I always push to get al fresco instead of being cooped up in the indoor area.

When did you last use a lighter or matches?: Few months ago when I lit a candle.

Do you think the ocean needs more exploring?: For sure. So little of it has been discovered.

Do you ever experience panic attacks?: I have, but they haven’t visited in a while.

Have you ever had to call 911 or your country's emergency number?: Nope.

What was the last conversation you had about?: I don’t remember lol but it was with my sister not too long ago. We were just talking about Agi having some excess #2 stuck near his butt so I asked her to help me take it out.

Are you doing okay?: I’m great as long as you don’t ask or remind me about work.

Do you know an Olivia?: Nopes.

Is there a past relationship/friendship you miss?: There isn’t.

Do you like mangoes?: Never liked it in any form. As a Filipino I feel like I have a responsibility to like mango to some extent hahaha but it’s just never worked out for me.

Last song you listened to?: My Universe by Coldplay and BTS was on as I was parking earlier tonight.

What do you believe in the most?: That there are other beings in the vast universe. Maybe they aren’t humans like us, maybe they look vastly different, but I believe we aren’t alone.

What was the last movie you watched and enjoyed?: My sister’s thesis film. It’s quite short, only a little short of 20 minutes; but knowing that she made it and put a lot of effort into it made me proud. And the film itself was great, too! Do you use captions when watching TV?: Yeah, for everything I watch it’s ideal to have subtitles even if I can understand the language. It’s easier for me to pick up information/remember scenes if I can read through them.

What was the last app you used?: YouTube. What's your most used app?: Probably Facebook.

What percentage is your phone battery on?: 84% the last time I checked, which was only a few minutes ago. I’m too lazy to confirm if it’s still the same but it most likely is.

Are there any recipes you'd like to try?: I mean I watched a menbosha-making vlog yesterday and ever since then I’ve been thinking about trying to make it on my own. Did you use Vine when it existed?: I never made a Vine but I sure as hell enjoyed the viral ones that came out. I still miss Vine and prefer it a lot more than TikTok, lol.

What decorations do you have in your bedroom?: Some portraits and a few posters are up on my wall. I also have a corkboard with a bunch of BTS knickknacks, and it’s situated right in front of my work station so it can sort of serve as an inspiration for me to keep going haha. Who is a celebrity you'd like to hang out with?: Jimin.

How many amusement parks have you visited?: Around two or three. Not a big fan of them.

Do you prefer chewy or crunchy textures more?:   Crunchy.

What last broke your heart?: I follow a local NGO called Strays Worth Saving and the stories that come out of the page are always so devastating. Last night I shared a call for donation for this dog who was heartlessly stabbed but managed to survive. 

What is happiness in your own words?: Feeling at peace with who and where you are.

Do you still live in the town you grew up in?: Yes. Are there any events coming up you're looking forward to?: We have a holiday this Friday so I’m pretty fucking stoked about the 4-day work week ahead.

What's the most random collection you've had or known someone to have?:   I’ve never personally understood restaurant/hotel tissue collections (unused, of course) but Filipino parents LOVE to start one; hell, even my mom has one lol.

Are you currently wearing anything green?: Nope, I’m all maroon tonight.

Do you google your symptoms everytime there is something wrong?: Yeah, for reassurance. I try to avoid going the opposite route, i.e. Googling my symptoms and going straight to the conclusion that I’m close to death lol.

Have you or would you ever go see a psychic?: Nope.

Who is the strongest person you know?: My mom.

What's your go to Chinese food order?: Not really a big fan of Chinese food but I do like to get minced pork and eggplants.

When was the last time you visited family?: Last Sunday, as is our tradition. We didn’t do it today though since we had to run a few errands and I also booked a trip to a museum.

Do you currently feel restless?: A bit, which is usual on Sunday evenings. What is something you're naturally good at?: Writing.

Have you had coffee or tea today?: I’m currently having coffee.

What flower did you last see?: I can’t recall. What's your favorite fictional book?: Everyday by David Levithan.

#survey #surveys

[lunapwrites]

Omg I'm dying with the titles!!! Can I have something from "waiting room"?

Hi hello yes friend! <3 I am fairly certain this is another bit from LTL, but let me check...

OH NO. Ohhhhh this is from a VERY OLD version of the bathtub scene (still Remus POV!), before I ended up reworking a bunch of things. I'll note what changed under a cut, but uh. Here is a small, inoffensive snippet of this one lol

-

"I can't believe you did this." Dora snorted, squirting different coloured dyes into several small bowls. They'd broken out the good china for this exercise, he'd noticed. "I absolutely can." Sirius sighed dramatically, and Remus was beginning to suspect he'd somehow switched consciousness with his fifth-year self. "I just fancied a change."  "Then paint some walls or something, you prat, not…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Sirius' hair, which truly looked horrid. "Eugh, look, no offence, cariad, blond is not your colour." "You don't think it makes me look like my cousin? My dear old mother used to say we had the same cheekbones." He pursed his lips, tapping his cheek with his index finger. He did have lovely cheekbones, but that was rather beside the point. "Probably why she tried to marry me off to her, come to think of it." "Cissy had actual colour to her hair. This is… erm…" "White?" Dora supplied, grinning as though she weren't at least partially responsible. "Well, that's a word for it, isn’t it? Thank you Dora." Sirius scowled; the effect was rather ruined by how ridiculous he looked. Don't laugh, Lupin, you'll just get him all het up again. Whatever made him happy, right?

Right. "I’m never staying blond, ta very much." Dora winked at Remus, then grabbed Sirius' head firmly and turned him so he was looking straight down into his lap. "Too right you're not, now sit still so I can apply this."

-

OK, so if you want to see the changes...

This was the version where Remus ALSO sat down and let Dora dye his hair (he no longer does this.) Fun fact: this is what my PFP is from lol. I'm still a little sad I lost that bit, but. Oh well. It really wasn't that important.

The hearing never happened in this version, so Sirius was still trying to figure out a legal way to clear his name rather than Remus flinging himself at the situation like an angry cat.

The whole borderline alcoholism angle with Sirius was not addressed yet like it has been in LTL-canon, and the problem was going to be a lot worse. I decided to walk it back a little because he didn't really get the chance to full-on spiral down that particular well like he did in actual-canon.

This version takes place the same night the Weasley kids + Harry show up at Grimmauld Place. I pushed it up earlier in the month instead because it was WAY too messy and honestly I didn't want to put a bunch of anxious teens in the same house as a couple of inebriated adults. As I was writing it out, the discomfort overrode any comic value.

Sirius got to be The Adult In The Room, which... I ended up reworking as a concept into some better/healthier moments, since it's important for his character arc.

The discussion between Remus and Dora re: his past addiction issues was originally going to happen here, and Remus was also going to mentally draw parallels between his past and Sirius' current struggles. I felt it was a little too on the nose.

I had been laying the groundwork for actual UST between Dora and Sirius here, which no longer strictly lines up with where they're headed in LTL.

There was a photograph of Remus with green hair. I will be working this into LTL canon SOMEWHERE, or so help me XD

Remus took paint thinner to Walburga's portrait, and Dora drew a dick on her with a sharpie which she couldn't scream about, owing to no longer having a mouth. While the scene is hilarious, I could not in good conscience keep this as is, and the writing in the dialogue is so genuinely terrible I want to cry lol. (Not like the words they're saying are bad, just I was still in the "need to write the way they sound" mode, and it just isn't a good look, it's going back in the hole forever.)

There's probably some other changes here but yeah, just generally tone and trajectory and pacing and plot alllllll changed from where this was at initially lol.

Thank you for the ask!!

#ask game #responses #giant massive plot rework #deleted scene #the quarantine mood chapter that never was #sirius black #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #ltl #ot3 #hp #writing #my writing #old writing #definitely didn't ninja-edit so the formatting didn't get confusing.

[strongxsurvivors]

just some musings for my new muses as i was trying to figure them out. they aren’t good by any means or long, just sumfin’ for now. tw: self harm, abuse, homophobia.

joey

staring at the baking tray through the open oven door, a moment passed. it was time to pull it out — the hot air licking at joey’s skin. the oven mitts were within arm’s reach. but, there was a feeling that washed over him, causing all other feelings to drain out of him and spill onto the floor. a melancholy so strong that he felt his lungs seize up in his chest. why did he bake these? as a genuine token of goodwill, or to gain the approval of others that would eventually leave him? he wanted to full-heartedly believe it was the former, but his mind was driving the latter idea. how sad was he that the only thing that he could offer up was baked goods? why was he racing still when it felt like he wasn’t like the rest? he reached into the oven, hands making contact with the hot metal. he held onto the tray for about a second and a half until his body forcibly opened his hands and the tray clattered onto the oven door. he curled up into a fetal position on his feet as he cradled his hands to his chest, sniffling from the pain. he took a few moments to breathe before he forced himself to stand up and turn off the oven, putting his burned hands under the cold tap. he watched as his hands shook slightly, waiting for the pain to become duller before turning off the water and turning to the mess he had purposefully caused. he needed to remake the muffins.

beckett

beckett blankly stared at the portrait of his father’s likeness on the dining room wall as another spare piece of silverware was thrown in his direction. what his mother was saying didn’t sink in anymore — it didn’t need to — as he knew what she was saying. it was as if a record player was bumped and the same lines were playing over and over again. “your father was a world champion by your age and you’re still only a reserve?” “you’re beyond a disappointment.” “what did we pay all of this for? how ungrateful you are.” “if your father was alive, he’d have thrown you out without your inheritance.” the words didn’t hurt anymore. honestly, nothing really hurt him anymore since his father’s passing, the woman’s violent and loud ruckus not stopping him from drinking his wine and continuing his meal. the staff were desperately trying to subtly clean the mess while also avoiding getting caught in the crossfire. “mother,” he finally spoke, his tone even and almost patronizing. “if you loved your husband so much, perhaps you should have a little more faith in his final decisions? and, stop throwing a tantrum like a child. i love you, but these fits aren’t good for your health.” he lied easily. he didn’t love that woman — he barely recognised her. she used to be so loving before he got into f2, then she saw him only as some cash cow. he stood from his seat as his mother continued to mutter something or another. “i’m going out. don’t wait up and don’t worry,” he said, as if she ever did either of those things. “i wish it had been you instead of your father.” the comment froze his steps, as it always did. any mention of his father’s actual death always struck something deeply hidden inside of him. he took in a deep breath and tightened his jaw before he forced himself to continue his exit. “goodnight, mother.”

wyatt

he was used to selling himself. smile, laugh, make jokes. be pleasant, seem fun and exciting. for the most part, it wasn’t hard for wyatt to get excited about things or find fun in most situations. but, it’d become much harder to feel like himself as he hopped from place to place, from one friend's home to another, one hotel to another. with every move, with every uncertain step forward, he felt like he was leaving another piece of himself behind. he’d always been a handful for his family with his energy, but they always loved him and helped him regardless. it made him believe that they would be with him no matter what. but, the moment he mentioned having a date — with forced clarification that it was with a boy and not a girl — his delusion was shattered. promptly kicked out, he had to mask his home life situation. he didn’t invite anyone to his home anymore, lied about his family being proud of him, and did what he could to make the money he needed. break was something he dreaded immensely, not sure who he could piggyback off when everyone was going to be going… well, everywhere. “you should go back home with your family.” “i will! i just wanted to have some fun before, you know?” no, he needed to work on impressing sponsors and teams. he needed a contract of any sort. the hotels were getting worse and worse as the money was running out. there was one thing, though, that tided him over until he could make real money. he took in a deep breath as he pulled out his laptop, an incognito window opening up to show what he’d last been researching. he bit down on his lip as he finally gave in, clicking on create an account. if he didn’t show his face, no one would know.

#m: joey r #m: beckett #m: wyatt h

[astroluvr]

Is it okay if you do something where jack is really stressed and ends up getting mad at his toddler?

i didn't love the way this turned out, but i hope you enjoy!! thanks for your request!

***

Jack had been more than overwhelmed lately. The days leading up to his album deadline had been full of ups and downs that were hard to deal with. You did your best to keep your daughter, May, off of his hands on his busy days, but it was a little tougher to work around when your schedule got busy, too. May was an entirely innocent little girl, she was well-behaved, despite her few tantrums.

You were out for lunch with your newly-engaged friend, leaving May with her father for a few hours in the afternoon. May was looking forward to a day with just her father. She had already planned out in her head what she wanted to do- have breakfast, color some pictures, and maybe even make strawberry cupcakes.

The day started off how she expected, she had breakfast with her daddy and it was all just fine until he got a phone call. Jack sat her down on the barstool next to him as he looked at the phone call from Neelam.

“Yo,” Jack answered, playing with his daughter’s ponytail.

“Hey, Jack. I’ve got some... news.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” he furrowed his eyebrows and Neelam hesitated before speaking.

“Jack, one of the songs lost about two minutes of audio during post.”

“How the fuck did that even happen?” Jack groaned and Neelam made a defeated noise.

“The team is doing everything we can, hopefully we can still retrieve, but I wanted to give you the heads up.”

“How am I supposed to redo that? I’m booked nearly every day for the next two weeks and I’m not going to have time to.”

“I know that, Jack, I do, but-”

“Who was in charge?” Jack stood from the counter and left May at the counter with a bowl of Lucky Charms.

“Daddy?”

“May, give me ten minutes, baby, okay? Finish your breakfast and chill for a few.” he said dismissively, walking through the living to turn the TV onto Daniel Tiger.

May huffed at Jack before shoving her cereal bowl aside and hopping down. Her favorite thing in the world was having breakfast with Jack because instead of his usual hefty breakfast, he’d sit down and eat the sugary cereal she loved so much and he’d always give her cereal in a huge bowl she would never finish.

After a few minutes of staring down the hall and waiting for Jack to return, she hopped off the barstool and went into the closet to pull out a few pieces of paper and some markers. Her plan was to lure Jack back for arts and crafts when she showed him a pretty illustration.

Although May got distracted by Daniel Tiger a few times, she made a nice portrait of the kitten she saw walking. It was only two black ovals with four straight lines sticking out, but she was quite proud of herself. She was about to go back and show Jack, but when she heard his loud groan of frustration, she felt bad and decided something nicer would help.

Being the kind soul she was, she carefully drew stick figures of her and Jack at the basketball game they went to a few days ago. That was the last time she got to spend a decent amount of time and she loved every minute of it. As she replayed the few hours of that outing, she decided to draw the moment he put her on his shoulders as confetti was released in celebration.

She skillfully finished the picture with little blots of different colors to represent the confetti before running back down the hall to Jack. May was more than excited to show him and put him in a better mood. Seeing her always worked for him, any time he had a frown on his face, once May gave him a hug, he felt all better. Surely, she thought, having another painting to put on the walls of his office would relieve him of his worries.

With two quick knocks and a happy smile, she opened the door with the piece of paper behind her back and Jack looked up unhappily. The phone he had against his ear was one that she wasn’t allowed to play games on and the look on his face told him she better not ask to use the other one.

“Daddy, don’t be mad anymore. I made-”

“May, didn’t I tell you to sit down?” he grumbled, causing the little girl’s face to falter.

“I will, I just-”

“And what the fuck is all over your shirt?!” he slammed his phone down and walked over to her. “Why’d you have markers without permission? If you got anything on the carpet, I’m going to be mad.”

“Daddy, look!”

“I’ll look at it later.” Jack sighed, turning around to go back to his phone call. “Now, I need you to just go and sit down until your mother gets home.”

“But, Daddy!” she whined, stomping her foot and Jack lost his temper.

“Didn’t I say go sit down?! What’s so hard to understand about that, huh?!”

The yell that came from Jack’s throat scared her enough to make her drop the paper and send it fluttering to the hardwood floor. He’d never spoken to her like that, not even when she broke a vase in the store that she heard you say was expensive.

“Sorry, Daddy.” her little chest puffed out in the beginning of a sob, but Jack didn’t seem to notice.

She ran from his office before he could say anything else to her, straight to the living room to make an attempt at cleaning up her mess. She quickly threw everything into its designated places back into the closet she got it from and closely inspected the carpet for signs of marker.

When there wasn’t any, she sat down on the couch and cried to herself. Any other time, Jack would’ve come out to apologize if he upset her in the slightest, but now she was under her favorite blanket all to herself and trying to figure out why something so simple had gotten her reprimanded so heavily.

You came home a little earlier than you planned to when Neelam sent you a text about some of Jack’s album work going left. Your husband was a perfectionist through and through, which meant that you would have your hands full with having to talk him through his crisis. What you expected the least, though, was your baby girl with only her toes sticking out from beneath a Hello Kitty blanket and the sound of loud sobs.

“May, honey?” you approached her with concern and she looked from under the covers. Your heart immediately sank because you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen her like this. “Oh, bug, what’s the matter?”

“D-Daddy is so mean, Mama!” you sat next to her on the couch and began to wipe her tears and kiss her cheeks.

May had been navigating emotions, so sometimes when you and Jack had to parent her, it didn’t result in the best adjectives, but given her current state, calling Jack ‘mean’ didn’t seem too misplaced.

“What do you mean, baby?” she continued to cry and clutch onto your skirt. “I believe you, but can you tell Mommy what Daddy did, so she can make it better? Just calm down.”

She took a few deep breaths with you and you began to stroke her hair. “Daddy was... mad because he had his work phone and I tried to make him feel better with a picture of us, but he yelled at me. Said to sit down and he said a bad word, Mama! You said not to say bad words.”

“I did say that, and Daddy shouldn’t have done any of that, right?”

“Mmhmm. It hurt my feelings.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I think Daddy’s just having a bad day today and he’s not handling it the right way.”

“He needs to count to four.”

“He sure does. And I’ll go tell him that, too.”

She nodded before she spoke. “I missed you, Mama.”

“I missed you, too, bug.” you took her into your arms and left a few kisses that made her giggle. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

You sighed as you stood from the couch to go to Jack’s office. You were sure that once you bought his actions to light, he’d be more upset at himself than anything. You didn’t knock before entering Jack’s workspace, which earned you a glare, but nothing further. You moved the papers that had scribbles of verses on them and sat down in their former spot while staring up at Jack.

“My wife just got in and it looks important, so can I call you back?” there was a pause on Jack’s end before he set the phone down and looked at you tiredly. “Neelam call you?”

“Yes, she did and I’m glad she did because we need to talk.”

“About what?” you sighed and licked your lips.

“May. I don’t know when you yelled at her, Jack, but you hurt her feelings bad. She was crying under her blanket.”

“I’ll apologize once I get this all sorted, baby, but this is all crazy.”

“You yelled at her and you’ve never yelled at her, J.”

“I raised my voice.”

“No, she’s heard a raised voice with good reason. My baby is downstairs in tears, Jack. She was just trying to give you this.” you held up the piece of paper that you found on the floor and Jack took it in his hands. Once he deciphered what she drew, you could see the guilt cross his face.

“Fuck.” he breathed out and made eye contact with you. You stood up and got closer to him, enough to make sure he wouldn’t break away from your glance.

“She’s just a little girl who we’ve taught to be kind and respectful and that’s just what she was trying to do. I know you didn’t mean to, but we have to think about how that’s going to affect her if we hold off on owning up to when we’re not. You and May have the healthy relationship that I have always wanted for my babies and it’s your job to keep it up.”

Jack nodded, running his hands through his hair. “I swear I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, baby. I love May more than anything.”

“I know, baby, it’s why I’m not upset. I just want to make sure you understand.” you rubbed his shoulders and Jack nodded once more. “I love you and I love May. I want my family to be happy, that’s all.”

“I love you, too. I’m going to spend the rest of the day with May, so you just get comfortable, baby. Have a day to yourself.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.” you kissed his cheek with a smile. “And we’ll talk later on about this all, if you want.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Jack eventually made his way back to the living room where May turned her head at the sound of footsteps. She first assumed it was you until she saw the tall figure. He wasn’t so intimidating with a pout on his face and a pair of Christmas pajama pants, but May still tensed.

“I didn’t make a mess, Daddy.” she whispered and Jack swallowed as his stomach dropped.

“I don’t care about a mess, May. I came to apologize for what happened.” he kneeled in front of her and she raised her eyebrows curiously.

“Apologize?”

“Means to say sorry. I want to say sorry for yelling at you and getting mad when you were just trying to do something nice for me. I shouldn’t have treated you that way, nobody should treat you that way.” he spoke firmly.

“Then why did you?”

“Because, and this is not at all a good reason, but some big stuff happened at work and I’m mad that a very special song I made for you got messed up. Daddy’s not mad at you for even a minute, May, I’m mad at that. Do you understand?”

“You’re mad at work and got mad at me?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t your fault and you weren’t doing anything bad, so I shouldn’t have yelled.” he looked at her in a survey of understanding and she nodded. “I am the sorriest I have ever been, May.”

“I forgive you. I’m sorry you were mad.”

“Thank you for forgiving me.” he kissed her cheek when he pulled her into his lap. “Now, what do you want to do since I'm so sorry?”

“Mmm, can you take me to ride my bike at the park?”

“I’d love to do that.”

“And then get ice cream?”

“Strawberry.”

“Duh.” she giggled and Jack laughed back. “And then can we watch Princess and the Frog?”

“My favorite!”

“No, it’s my favorite, Daddy!” she squealed and Jack stood up happily.

“Can we share?”

“Mmhmm.” she decided, wrapping her arm around his neck as he voyaged up the stairs.

“Let’s put on some real clothes, so we can have a really good day today.”

“Alright!” she scrambled down Jack’s side and he went into her room. “Oh, and Daddy?”

“Hmm?” he hummed back before going to her closet for an outfit.

“You can’t bring your work phone, so you don’t get angry. It’s May only.”

“Only you, May baby." he agreed, causing her to smile wide.

#jack harlow #fan fiction #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #bf!jack #jack harlow fanfiction #dad!jack harlow #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow angst

[snowbabys]

ʚ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ɞ

(disclaimer: i do not condone this behavior, nor think the idol acts like this in any way. this is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only.)

. .. .♡·˚ WARNINGS/NOTES: a little stalking.

. .. .♡·˚ AUTHOR'S NOTES: hello hello!! i felt like writing for itzy, so here it is :) i'll make a direct continuation of this, so stay tuned if you like this one! also feel free to request for itzy! thank you for reading, enjoy~ ♡

☆·˚｡- YEJI and you got accepted as trainees in the same company around the same time but didn’t know of each other’s existence till one day you were put in the same experimental group. you could feel her eyes on you while you were dancing, but though she was just analyzing your abilities as she was the leader of the group and responsible for making your performance acceptable.

when the group finished the lessons for the day, she went to your side while you gathered up your things, her hands shaking as she hadn’t had the chance to talk to you alone yet. she introduced herself properly and complimented you numerous times, later on in the conversation saying how she wanted to be close friends in the future. she was more than happy when you reacted positively, not knowing what was truly going through her mind.

“i’m happy we get to practice together every day.”

☆·˚｡- LIA has gone to her father’s company one day when he insisted it was time for her to start learning the way business worked. you were one of his employees that kept his schedules in order, which meant you were one of his closest coworkers. that fact made you feel nervous when you heard about lia’s visit, you got along pretty well with your boss, so you felt almost obligated to be the same with his daughter.

when she finally arrived, you were starstruck with her looks. her confidence over the top made you feel small being in the same room as her initially, but it all went down when she started talking to you. she had such a loving personality, and the experimental day working with her couldn’t have gone better, her willingness to learn making it all easier. at the end of your shift, she made sure to thank you directly and express how much she loved working with you.

“i could come every day to help you.”

☆·˚｡- RYUJIN had been working with photography most of her life, dedicating everything to it. she had seen many beautiful landscapes and breathtaking people along her way, but nothing had prepared her for the day she first saw you. she was randomly walking through the city, looking for inspiration in the modern tall buildings. seeing someone walking with a red umbrella made it for her, the color contrasting with the grey of the streets and monochrome of people’s clothing. she could already picture the elegant portrait on her wall.

that someone was you. you had no idea you were being photographed while walking to meet your friend a few quarters away. you would probably freak out at the idea of being followed and photographed at the same time, which is exactly what ryujin has done. but to her, she was just getting inspired and following that inspiration.

it got you surprised when a stranger with a huge camera approached you randomly on the sidewalk, asking if you could be the center for some pictures. you never modeled in your life, but seeing the enthusiasm in that stranger’s face made you consider the idea positively. when you agreed to it, she gave you a smile and an okay sign with her hand.

“you look amazing, don’t worry.”

☆·˚｡- CHAERYEONG and you went to the same dance company, you being a beginner whereas she’s been on the company for years, known as one of the best dancers of theirs and your main inspiration. since you were still inexperienced, you didn’t get many chances to be in the same classes with her, but one day, when you finally got the opportunity to do a presentation with the main group, you got to be mentored by chaeryeong herself, the one choreographing most of your dances.

after your lesson with her, she asked you to stay a bit longer, wanting to give you some tips and advice. once she has finished, you felt comfortable telling her you looked up to her and expressed your admiration, not sparing compliments. she couldn’t stop smiling at you, her shy way being long forgotten. it made your day when she asked to hug you, both of you ignoring your sweaty clothes and laughing when she apologized for being stinky.

“thank you! i’m so happy we’re working together.”

☆·˚｡- YUNA was the typical sociable class president, known by the whole school for her charming looks, lovely personality, and admirable intelligence. you were the new student, and on your first day, you found yourself waiting for the class president by the school’s entrance to guide you. she didn’t make you wait, and in a few minutes, there was she, with a warm smile and calming words to prepare you for your first day. she made sure to show you everything, introduce you to your classmates, and give you a brief description of your professors, always cracking a joke to relax you.

minutes before the classes started, she took you to a hidden spot in the school garden, explaining it was her favorite place to come whenever she felt stressed or needed a calm place to study.

“i hope we can come here together to study, i like your presence!” her confidence froze you in place, which only made her smile even bigger. she enlaced her arm with yours and kept chattering while guiding you to your class, showing her friendly side to you. little did you know, the innocent look on her face was just an act to hide her true intentions with you.

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© snowbabys 2022 | do not repost and/or translate my works.

#yandere itzy #yandere au #itzy yandere au #yandere yeji #yandere lia #yandere ryujin #yandere chaeryeong #yandere yuna #itzy x reader #yandere itzy x reader #itzy reactions #yandere itzy reactions #itzy scenarios #yandere itzy scenarios #itzy imagines #yandere itzy imagines #kpop yandere #kpop yandere au #hwang yeji #choi lia #shin ryujin #lee chaeryeong #shin yuna #yeji #lia #ryujin #chaeryeong #yuna