#(by which i mean: it’s about fostering potential)

[scholarhect]

think of gender-separated esports leagues as less like assumptions that women have weak brittle fingers that can’t hit the keys fast enough compared to men, and more as something in the vein of “girls who code”

[bellwitchfaggot]

Trying 2 determine what all abt my life currently I feel comfortable actually talking about on tumblr these days n the answer is like. Well I think of updates 2 post n then I'm like well I thought that already, articulated the thought to the self no need 2 post now n I might regret it later. And now no one online knows anything about me maybe. I'm tipsy for what is not the first time in a while but I drink socially standardly these days n due to social burnout + did I do not rly cognisize those moments while alone. So I'm tipsy while mostly alone for the first time in a while specifically and I try to refrain from posting personal shit moreso when I'm not sober. A problem I realize here recent I have been having w posting to socials as in the past like year and a half or so I've re unmasked my eidetic flashbacks again is that I seem to have a booming social life and I script future tumblr posts while hanging out w ppl and now that I know that at all times it's like. Oh I already said all this shit just in conversation w a group of ppl like a month ago so its cringe genuinely to post it online now. Tumblr is for faggots w no friends once more, a demographic of which I am not in

[yamujiburo]

Why I Love Hanamusa

I get this question very frequently but have never given a really in depth, definitive answer. All just kinda implied through my comics and spread out asks. So here's this I guess! Long post ahead:

First, as a Pokémon fan in her mid 20s, I love seeing a ship where the characters are both in their mid/late 20s. Already, they’re much more relatable to me and my current experiences. Most Pokémon ships are between preteens, which can be cute but ultimately don’t interest me as much as they used to when I was a kid myself. Not enough to get super invested in and draw a lot of fanart for anyways haha.

I’ll also start by saying that canon doesn’t always influence whether or not I’ll ship something. I’m much more drawn to potential. Could the characters work together? Do their personalities work together in a nice way? I feel like this so much of fanon is anyways. Especially with queer relationships because they’re rarely depicted in the first place. A lot of the context for these ships is usually up to the fans to piece together or make up in general. And that’s the fun part to me!

Jessie and Delia have only met in the anime a handful of times. Any interaction they’ve had has either been pleasant, or just a typical Team Rocket interaction, with Delia dismissing them/not seeing them as a threat. Already a great jumping off point for me since, truly, they don’t have any actual beef or true, ill feelings towards each other. It’s not TOO out of the realm of possibility for them to potentially fall for each other. “But Jessie chased Delia’s son around trying to steal his Pokémon!” That’s where that dismissive and aloof attitude that Delia has comes into play. I’ll go more into Delia’s whole deal a bit later but I do think this aspect of her personality is a large reason why this ship can work. It’s not that she doesn’t care that Jessie has a bad past, but she can tell that, on the inside, Jessie’s a good person. And, in a scenario where Jessie is trying to become a better person, is forgiving enough to give her a shot. I feel like this is such a solid foundation for a ship. A character who has done wrong but is trying to be better and another character who is willing to help them be better. A classic dynamic!

It’s not just one-sided though; where Jessie is the only one benefitting and learning from the relationship. I believe Delia could get a lot out of being with someone like Jessie. To understand why, I think it’s important to know these characters’ respective backstories.

Jessie is an orphan/foster child who grew up in poverty. Her mother Miyamoto (from The Birth of Mewtwo) was a Team Rocket operative herself, who went on a mission to find Mew. In order to do this, she had to leave Jessie when she was just a toddler. Unfortunately, Miyamoto went MIA on her mission leaving Jessie to more or less fend for herself. Jessie went through life with zero stability, evident by her MANY different careers and constant moving around. It’s implied in the show that she went from foster home to foster home, and later in life tried being an idol, weather girl, florist, wine connoisseur, actress, most notably a nurse and finally a Team Rocket field agent. And even while in Team Rocket, she, James and Meowth were always doing odd jobs to get by. We see that Jessie used to be a sweet kid, and even adult, but the world and her circumstances repeatedly did her dirty, leading her to become the character we know today. Hot tempered, mean, selfish, etc. But despite this, her soft side does still shine through for the people and Pokémon she cares about. She is incredibly loyal.

Delia, unbeknownst to a lot of fans, also had a rough past (see Pocket Monsters: The Animation). Like Jessie, she had a lot of dreams and aspirations like wanting to be a model and even a trainer. But when she was 10, her mother didn’t let her, telling her that she had to stay home and learn to run the family restaurant (she’s an only child). Delia’s father left her and her mother to be a trainer, and never returned. When she was 18, she married Ash’s father and became pregnant shortly after. But right after Ash was born, he also set off to be a Pokémon trainer. And soon after that, her mother passed away, leaving Delia with just the restaurant and baby Ash. This gives so much context to Delia’s attitude in the show. We see that Delia is pained whenever Ash leaves on a journey, but she never shows that pain to anyone. ESPECIALLY Ash. She’s very quick to shoo him off when he shows any sign of wanting to go on another journey and even when he returns home, she acts more excited to see Pikachu than him almost every time. Without all this backstory, it’s easy to just read this as a funny gag, BUT with context, I think it really shows how quickly Delia shuts down and detaches in order to not confront her own feelings. She’s afraid of losing people and getting hurt again.

All that said, I think Jessie and Delia provide each other with EXACTLY what the other needs. 

Aside from becoming rich and famous, Jessie’s biggest aspiration is to get married. In my opinion, this is more so an underlying want for love and stability. There is no one more stable in the show than Delia. Delia’s lived in Pallet her whole life, she’s worked at the same restaurant since she was young and she is always there when Ash comes back home. She has all the love, patience and stability Jessie needs and craves. While forgiving, Delia’s not stupid and can keep Jessie in check. Delia’s also just an angel, which I feel, would make Jessie want to be better. And on top of all this, on more of a surface level, Delia’s a chef and excellent cook. She shows love through cooking and Jessie, who grew up poor, regularly starving and eating snow, happily receives that love. Jessie’s able to live a happy and healthy life with someone like Delia.

Delia, as stated, is very stable. Likely pretty monotonous and solitary, especially living in such a small town like Pallet. This isn’t a bad thing but it’s a little sad when you consider that Delia also had dreams of traveling, being a model and a trainer. She had to give up so many dreams in order to fulfill her duties as a restaurant owner and mother. And even now, when Ash is off on his journey, she feels the need to always be home and be that stable pillar, leaving behind any ambitions she had, thinking it’s too late for her (she’s only 29 btw). But then along comes Jessie, dangerous, passionate, an absolute firecracker. Someone who’s whole life has been about chasing dreams and either, never giving up on them or finding a new dream to chase. Upon learning about Delia’s past aspirations, I could see Jessie pushing her towards them, letting her know that life’s too short and she has nothing to lose from trying. On top of this, Jessie’s also loyal. She, James and Meowth are depicted as doing anything for anyone who gives them food or shows them kindness. Delia does both so there’s no way Jessie would leave her. This fulfills an essential need for Delia, who is afraid of the people in her life leaving her.

There’s so much potential for mutual growth and learning between these two and I adore that. They compliment each other, they help each other and they bring out the best qualities in one another.

I’m not really sure how to end this and I could truly talk about them even more but I don’t want this to be tooooo long haha. OH I could end it with maybe the most funny aspect of this ship that I've brushed over and also what drew me to it in the first place. Jessie. As Ash’s stepmom. THE END.

[botanicalsword]

Solar Returns Chart • relationship observations over past years

Sun in 6H - I had a highly disciplined lifestyle, strictly following a challenging diet and workout schedule. I was completely committed to their health and fitness goals and followed a meticulously crafted plan with dedication. I have set a fitness goal for myself, aiming to improve my physique and strength through training. I am determined to reach this goal, and I am willing to explore and employ various methods to achieve it. It was executed with unwavering discipline and intensity.

>> Other Solar Returns placement ⇦⇦

Venus in 7H - I feel incredibly grateful to have found myself in a new community where I have had the opportunity to meet new friends. The connections I have formed with these individuals are important to me, we primarily gather within a larger group setting and the level of compatibility and harmony we share greatly depends on the synastry between us.

8th House ruler in 2H -I had a strong desire to earn money and have been actively involved in running my own business.

Moon conjunct MC - Towards the end of the year, I had a sudden realization that I could put my talents to good use by embarking on some charity-focused projects. It struck me that instead of solely focusing on making money, I could leverage my skills and resources to make a positive impact on the community.

Venus conjunct Juno in 7H - I think I have encountered a person who has the potential to be both a romantic partner and a close friend. In our synastry, it indicates a harmonious connection between us. But there are challenges related to being vulnerability and publicity of our relationship, likely because of the influence of the 8th house and Lilith synastry.

>> explicit: Solar Returns • placement about love ♡̆̈♥♡̆̈♥

Moon square Juno - Marriage can make me question what it means to me and how it might affect my life's purpose. I was worrying that getting married may limit my freedom and hinder personal goals.

6H and 7H ruler in 9H - I enrolled in a course that not only provided me with valuable knowledge but also allowed me to form connections with like-minded individuals who shared similar interests and a desire for personal growth. Through this course, I had the opportunity to expand my community and make friends who were also passionate about acquiring greater knowledge. I also had the chance to travel to a new place that provided an enhanced learning experience, taking my pursuit of knowledge to the next level.

11H ruler in 6H - I have noticed that my friend's presence has had a big impact on our community - we shared 6H synastry. Thanks to our strong 6H synastry, he introduced me to this group of people, and though without him, we actually are not close-knit. He played a key role in bringing us together and creating a sense of camaraderie among us.

Chart ruler is Venus - This year, my main focus is on developing my personal value and refining my aesthetic taste. I am open to making changes in my style and appearance that may differ from what I've done in the past. I believe it's important to align my style choices with the image I want to present to the world. It’s also the possibility of starting a new relationship with a new romantic partner.

Chart ruler in 7H - this places a strong emphasis on building meaningful 1-on-1 relationships and fostering genuine friendships. Despite experiencing betrayal in the past, which has left me carrying a certain level of distrust towards others, I deeply cherish the connections I have made with each of them. This past betrayal has taught me the value of appreciating the genuine relationships in my life. I’m also recognizing the importance of opening myself up to new connections and allowing myself to appreciate the authenticity and sincerity of those who have proven themselves trustworthy.

Vertex in 9H - I feel a strong connection to nature and spirituality, and I have a desire to learn more about philosophical truths. It helps me think and understand myself better.

Uranus in 7H - I'm having trouble building the kind of relationship I want with the person I'm interested in. It's more than just a sexual or friendly relationship, but it doesn’t seem to head in the right direction.

8H & 12H ruler in 7H - I developed feelings for my friend, but I couldn't confide in anyone about it because I lacked trust in anyone with whom I could share this deep affection.

Moon conjunct Neptune / 8H ruler Neptune in 8H - I ended up in this totally forbidden relationship, and I had no clue about all the messed-up stuff going on. It was a crazy mix of getting physical, constant lying, tangled finances, other people meddling, a secret love affair.

Neptune in 5H - I'm trying to determine whether my feelings are genuine love or if they stem from an obsession, and I'm contemplating whether these emotions might be a delusion. (I’m Neptune dominance in Natal Chart) It seems that I am more captivated by the concept of love itself rather than the specific person I have feelings for. Even when we are apart, I don't experience a strong sense of longing or missing them. My focus seems to be more on the idea and idealization of love rather than the individual involved.

Venus conjunct Uranus - As the year comes to a close, I am bursting with new and artistic ideas. I am ready to take daring risks to explore and bring these ideas to fruition. I'm excited to step outside my comfort zone and see where these ventures lead me. >> Astrology Transits of New changes ☆★☆

❥❥❥ More: >> Solar Returns • Sun placement • Part I >> Solar Returns • Sun placement • Part II

❥❥❥

>> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content

Quick Access to : ❥ Astro / Asteroid Indicators ❥ Synastry / Composite Chart Observations ❥ House Stellium Observations ❥ Astro basic info / Brief reads ❥ Asteroid database ❥ Personal studies ✧ spiritual journal

Exclusive access : Patreon

/ instagram : @le.sinex / @botanicalsword

[s-4pphics]

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

ITS PRIDE MONTH PUSSSSSSYYYYYYY 

omg this is kindaaaa…. yeah

imma lil proud LOL hope y’all like it 

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

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

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

You were… fucked. 

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

Yeah. You were definitely going to fucking jail. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck security cameras. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she keeps staring at you. 

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

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

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

Your daughter’s gay, Mrs. Miller. 

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

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

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

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

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

“—sentenced to three years in federal prison— “

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

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

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

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

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

“But— “

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

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

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

Ellie was brought up in isolation. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all made her nauseous. 

… But art didn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it also made her lustful. Hungry. 

And she couldn’t stop staring. 

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

You fucking stared at that whore the whole time!

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

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

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

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

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

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

I raised a fighter, so you fucking fight!

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck is going on?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡GIRLDICK♡

Come back home. Five days.

E.M.

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

… ♡GIRLDICK♡

E.M.

M. 

♡GIRLDICK♡

M.

… Miller Enterprise. 

Miller. 

… Freckles. 

…. What in the fuck. 

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

It had been five days. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, you were the one anticipating meeting her. 

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

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

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

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

Ellie was so nervous. 

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

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

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

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

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

She hated it, she hated it. 

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

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

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

… Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

Keep your grip tight when you strike! 

Calm down calm down calm down—

“Boo.” 

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

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

Deep breath. 

“Hi, Ellie.”

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

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

“I think you know how.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

… Funny. 

“Press it.” 

Her scowl hardened, “What?” 

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

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

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

“Fuck you, you don’t know sh— “

“You paid my bail.” 

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

“Uh huh. Why’d you do it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Say you want me. Say it, sayitsayitsayit!

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

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

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

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

“Then do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-No— “

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

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

“Stop crying, Ellie.”

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

“Look at me,” you whispered. 

She hesitantly met your eyes. 

“You wanna kiss me?”

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

“Answer me.” 

“Y-Yes, wanna kiss. Just… just one?”

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

“You ever kissed anyone, baby?”

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

“Oh? M’gonna be your first kiss?” 

She whined out a needy uh huuuh! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pleeease, pleaseplease, ah— “

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

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

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

She nodded quickly. 

“So fucking talk,” you gritted out. 

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

You smirked, “You want me?”

“Mmhm!”

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

“Want me to do what?”

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

“Um…” 

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

She looked at you tentatively, her breathing shaky. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Talk!”

“Yes! Needa… need t’be touched!”

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

She sobbed. “A-Anywhere!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get ‘em wet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Yes, yes!”

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

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

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

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

“Fuckmemommy!”

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

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

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

“Yespleasepleaseplease, gimme— “

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

“M-Mhhm!—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like when I touch you there?” 

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

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

“Fuck yes!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You gotta make me cum first, m’kay?” 

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

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

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

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

“C’mon, honey.” 

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

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

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

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

You ignored it. “Where’d you get it?”

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

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

“He’s fucking dead, who cares.” 

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

“… Hm.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Up to you.” 

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

You leaned back in her mom’s seat. 

“Ellie.” 

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

“Yes?” 

“… C’mere.” 

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

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

You spoke softly, “Off. C’mon.” 

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

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

“Are they… Do you like them?” 

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

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

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

She sighed in content, “T-Thank you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels so… mmh!”

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

And then you slapped it. Hard. 

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

“Ah! Fuckfuckfu— “

Smack!

“Yes!”

SMACK!

She squealed. “M’gonna cum!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, mommy, needa cu—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm!”

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

“Take m’pants off, baby. C’mon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re fucking cra— “

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

“Say it.” 

“Y-You're not gonna hurt me,” she stated unsteadily. 

“You don’t know shit about me, and even if I did hurt you, you’d want it. Admit it.” 

She avoided your gaze and her lips quivered. 

You continued. “You’d let me do anything I want because you’re disgusting. A filthy fucking slut with a silver spoon in her mouth.”

You huffed at her with a frown. “And you like girls. You’d be just as worthless as I am in her eyes if she found out.” 

You nodded over to her mother’s nameplate, and her eyes shut like she was a child getting scolded for stealing candy at the store. 

“I’m right, baby? You don’t want a husband? Don’t wanna get bred for the empire like she wants?”

She shamefully shook her head as tears fell down her face. You didn’t even know if she was in that circumstance or not, but by her reaction, it seemed to cut her deep. You ignored the searing pain in your chest.

“Mhm, so,” you turned her head so she could look at you, her red eyes burning through yours. “Something you wanna ask me?” 

Her mouth dropped open in submission.

“M-Mommy, may I… May I eat your pussy, please?” 

You smiled in satisfaction, placing a gentle kiss on her wet forehead. 

“Yes, baby, you may.” 

You pulled the knife away from her and set it on the desk, grabbing her chin to plant a kiss to her mouth. She whined happily into yours. 

You pulled back and adjusted your position, leaning back with your legs spread, the underside of your knees hooked into the armrests of the seat, your cunt on full display for her. Your sopping pussy was right next to her face, and you saw her eyes flutter in delight. 

“Want me t’show you how?” 

She nodded intensely. 

You brushed away the flyaway hairs on her forehead, your hand planted on the back of her head. 

“Spit on my clit, babe. Get it nice n’wet.” 

She released a glob of spit right onto your pulsing bud,

and you sighed as it dribbled down to your hole. You tilted her head back, remnants of slobber collecting on her chin. You gathered spit in your mouth and pulled her lower lip down, her mouth falling open. You spat onto her tongue, and she moaned, tilting her head down to spit it out all over your pussy. You bit your lip so hard; you almost drew blood.

You reached down and spread your lips, your throbbing clit poking through. You could see her trembling as she eyed you. 

“Wanna taste, Ellie?”

“Yeah, please, mommy,” she choked out. 

“Lick me, then, honey.” 

She wasted no time, the tip of her tongue circling around the nub instantly. Your mouth fell open at the sensation. The pink muscle was so soft, the licks slow and gentle, barely there. 

“Doing so good, baby, take your time,” you sighed out. 

She keened at your praise; her lashes flitted like butterfly wings in Spring as she rubbed your clit in deep licks. 

“Fuck, Ellie, s’so sensitive,” she whined against you, eyes begging for your approval as she watched your expression. You caressed her burning cheek with your pointer finger, and she licked deeper.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it, making me so happy,” her eyes rolled shut as she tongued you, sliding her tongue all over your pussy in slow strokes. 

You moaned out every time she came up to lap at your clit. You guided her head down to your hole, and her tongue slipped inside, slurping up all your slick. You were gasping her name out as her tongue wiggled inside you, swirling all over your walls. 

“Such a good girl, fuck, El!” you groaned out as wet sounds filled the room. “Wanna make mommy cum?”

She hummed excitedly and nodded, her tongue moving back up to massage your clit. You tightened her grip on her head, forcing it to move back and forth her hums shaking your clit. 

She moved her head faster against you when she sucked your clit into her mouth, and your head fell back against the chair as your eyes rolled back. Your thighs were shaking, toes curled as you squealed out encouragement. You needed to cum, she was going to make you cum!

“Get me there, pretty, m’— gonna make me fuckin’ cum— “

“Wan’mommy’s cum, please?” she sloppily murmured against you. 

“Gonna get it, baby, m’right there! —“

She was fully moaning all over your clit, “Gonna fuck you so good, angel, fuck yes!”

You peeled your eyes open and looked back down at her when she released your clit to moan aloud. Her drool and your pussy juice were all over her pink lips as she sighed and whimpered in pleasure. You couldn’t see what she was doing, but her forearm was moving frantically as quiet shhlcks filled the room. 

“Ellie.”

“Mommym’gonnacum— “

“I swear to g— “

“S’so wet, oh god, please!” 

SMACK!

Her head flew onto your thigh at your hard slap to her face, and she screamed out as her body tensed up. You watched her with a scowl as she squealed out m’cummimgsohardmommy against your skin, a puddle of drool forming on your skin. 

You yanked her hand out of her boxers, and she whined in protest as her orgasmed died, her hips bucking back into the air. You stood up, pulling her up by her waist and bending her over the desk, holding her down by her neck. 

“Stop fucking with me, Ellie.” You pulled her boxers down under her ass, taking in the sight of her still pulsating cunt and her twitchy ass. 

She spat at you over her shoulder, “Or wha— “

SMACK!

She groaned out in pain against the wood when your hand connected with her asscheek in a fiery slap, your hand burning. 

“Motherfuc— “

SMACK! 

You hit her and hit her. And hit her again. And again. Until she was jerking away from you, her hips bucking against the desk and your handprints covering her ass in a cherry-red tint. 

You don’t even remember how many times you slapped her, but she was sobbing out apologies against the desk, asking for your forgiveness over her tears.

“You done fucking around?” Your hand felt like it was in flames when you dropped it on the desk.

“Yesyes, mommy, I won’t—sob— won’t fuck up again!” 

“I was actually gonna eat your pussy out,” you scoffed out nastily, and she only cried harder at the insinuation that you weren’t anymore. “You don’t want that, you don’t want me fucking nice.” 

You pulled away and walked towards your discarded

bag on the floor, digging through it and pulling your dick out, stepping into and adjusting the straps as you watched her bruised ass jiggle with each wail. 

Your dick stood up as you walked back over to her. You gave her one last hard slap on her marked ass and pulled her up by her arm, shoving her onto her knees in front of you so she was trapped between you and the desk. 

You could see her wiping away tears, but you grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at you. 

“You want dick so bad? Get it wet so I can fuck you.” 

Shock appeared on her face.

“Y-You’re gonna fuck me with that?” You watched her inspect the size of you. The length, the girth, all the ridges. Her breathing got heavier the longer she stared.

“Now you’re fucking scared, really, Ellie?”

“I’m not sca— “

“Talk back again, and I’m leaving. You’re getting on my fucking nerves.” 

She glared at you, but looked down, straight at your tip, then back at you. 

And then she spit on it, a fat glob of saliva dribbling down the sides of your cock. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, rubbing her spit into the silicone. She held eye contact with you as she stuck her tongue out. You reached down and placed your hand on top of hers, slapping your tip on her slobbery muscle. 

“Good fucking whore, good n’sloppy,” you let go to pat her still-red cheek with a heavy hand, and her pretty eyes hardened, her blush deepening. She dropped her mouth open, her lips curling on the tip as she sucked on it. You bit your lip as you watched her tongue swirl around you.

She moaned around the silicone, her eyes filthy. Her hand spread her spit up all over you as she took in your inches slowly, jerking you off and slobbering on you at the same time. She looked like a fucking pornstar, like she practiced for this, like she wanted to impress you, and you shook like you could actually feel her mouth. Your pussy was desperate to cum, but you pushed it aside and watched her. 

She released you with a wet pop, her tongue flicking around your tip like she was lapping at your cum, and you couldn’t stop the moan that left your mouth. 

“Nasty slut, goddamn— “

She smiled like you just called her the prettiest girl in the world before sucking you back in, her head bobbing up and down as she slurped you up. There was so much spit on your length that it started dripping onto the floor.

You bucked forward, your hips moving on autopilot, and she choked on you, her hand coming up to your thigh to squeeze it. You ignored her grasp and fucked into her mouth harder, pinning both her arms above her head on the desk. She gargled around your dick, and you could only imagine the tightness of her throat with each gag. 

“What, baby? Don’t like it? Want me t’stop?” You gritted out. And you thrusted deeper. She moaned and her mouth opened wider.

She was making wet noises around you, her head thudding against the top drawer of the desk when you fucked in. You fucked your entire cock down her throat, and she gagged hard. 

You pulled out and let her go.

She fell forward and coughed hard, her drool pooling down on the eggshell floors as she choked. You watched in irritation as she heaved.

“Get up,” her gasps slowed as she breathed in deeply, and she lifted her head to glare at you from her hunched position. 

“Get up.” 

“Fuck you,” she spluttered.

“I’m gonna. Get up.”

Despite her bitterness, she slowly stood and instantly bent over the desk with her scarred ass poked out towards you. You chuckled when you saw both her holes pulse in excitement.

“That’s how it is?” you slapped her asscheek, and her hips bucked back against your hand. 

“Uh huh,” you heard her crackly mumble dazedly. “Need you t’make me cum.”

“Seemed alright doing it yourself a few minutes ago.”

She ignored you, and you smirked, “Need your cock, mommy, pleeease, please— “

You reached out, running two fingers over her drenched slit, and she pressed back on them as she sighed in pleasure. You slowly slid your fingers down to her clit, and she moaned aloud, her thighs jerking. 

“Look at this fucking pussy, jesus.” 

“I-It’s pretty?”

“Yeah, baby, fuck,” your mouth watered when you saw her walls clench. “Can’t even be mad, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Then fuck me,” she whined out sweetly, looking at you over her shoulder. 

You leaned down until you were eye level with her pussy, her walls squelching and squeezing repeatedly. You bit your lip and kitty-licked her cunt, her slick painting your taste buds as her smell surrounded you, and she jumped at the feeling. 

“Taste like fucking honey.” 

“So do you, made me so wet,” she exhaled as she shivered in anticipation. 

“S’gonna hurt,” you whispered, more to yourself as you eyed her tightness. 

“Don’t care.” She pushed back on your face.

“Put your hands behind your back. Don’t move them.” 

She shuddered and obeyed instantly, her hands overlapping at the wrists at the small of her back. 

You pressed one last kiss to her pussy before standing upright, “You move your hands, I stop.”

“Not gonna move, mommy,” she whispered in between unsteady breaths. “Make me feel good, please. Please, please.”

“Shh. Got you, baby. Open your legs,” you caressed her back and she squirmed. You felt goosebumps rise all over her skin, and you smirked.

The gap between her thighs widened even more for you, her cunt on full display. You could hear her beckoning you to pop the tip inside her in tiny, desperate whispers, and it made your core clench. 

You inched closer to her until the back of her thighs pressed against the front of yours. You wrapped a hand around your wet dick and brought it up to her slit, soaking it in her gooey slick and sliding it between her silky lips. Her cunt was already soaking your entire length and you didn’t even fuck her yet. She was subtly pushing back on you, trying to get you inside her. 

You heard the enthusiasm in her voice when she keened, “Mommy, please, it’s right there!”

“Mhm, I know, I see it,” you mumbled wetly, her gooey cunt looked so pretty under the light of the city, shining like glitter.

“Making mommy so wet baby, such a pretty girl,” you brought your cock back up to her slit and pushed forward, slowly popping the tip in her snug opening. She squealed loudly, and you saw her fists clench at the end of her spine as her walls clung to you, pulling you in.

“Yesyesyes, oh god, mommy, fuck, uh huh!”

“Yeah, baby? It hurts?” 

“Nooo, feels s’good, oh shit! —“

You slowly pushed in another inch, gauging her reaction for any discomfort, your thumb moving on her hip softly. She tried to push back to take you deeper, but you held her hips down.

“Fuck mefuckmefuckme— “

“Gonna be my good girl, baby? Gonna take it nice’n deep?” 

“Yeah, mommy!”

You pushed in even deeper, and you could feel the resistance of her cunt the more you slid in. You couldn’t stop the moan you released when she said your name. 

“Y-You’re splitting me open, ffuck— “

You pressed in the last bit of your dick, her ass resting at the top of your thighs, your hands propping you up on the desk as you leaned above her, placed on either side of her head. She was sighing heavily in satisfaction, and you could see her glossy eyes rolling. 

“Feelin’ good?”

She nodded slowly, “U-Use me, mommy, please use me t’cum, fuck.”

“Gotta take care of my girl first,” you fucked out of her slowly before snapping your hips, fucking all your inches back into her, and she screamed. “Such a tight pussy.”

You bent down to kiss her pretty back, down her spine as you stroked her deeply. You’d barely completed your fourth stroke before you felt Ellie tense up under you, her body shuddering as she moaned quietly to herself. You snickered at her. 

“Baby’s cumming?” you licked up her spine again. 

You could only see her nod in jerky headshakes from where you stood, her cheek pressed against the desk. You looked down at where you were connected, and you could see how her walls struggled to choke your dick. You grabbed her wrists in one hand and fucked her through her orgasm, your free hand sneaking under her hips to rub her clit. 

The second her body relaxed, you saw the muscles in her back flex again, the arch in her back deepening, “Mommy, think—m’cumming again, oh god, motherfu— “

“How many are you gonna give me, angel?” you rubbed her clit faster, fucking in harder. 

“I feel it, I feel it, fuck!” She wasn’t listening to anything you were saying as she yelled in her pleasure. You could see how much she was wetting your cock, lines of her slick forming every time you pulled out of her. You angled your hips downward when you fucked back in, and she shouted your name out, her warnings of her orgasm echoing in your ears. You released her clit and pinned her down by her neck again. 

“Like it right there, baby? That’s the spot?” You could feel your core squeezing with every cry she let out, her voice completely broken, her squeals scratchy. 

She was babbling about something, but you weren’t listening, the squelchy sounds of her cunt increasing in volumes as you forced your dick in her, stirring her guts up. 

You looked down and saw her ass squeezing with every quiver of her cunt, and you licked your lips. You let her wrists go and brought a hand to your mouth, sucking your thumb in to wet it before rubbing her ass with it. 

She let out a loud slew of ah ah ahs before you felt a burst of wetness on your thighs, dripping down onto the floor. Her entire body was jerking back onto your, her rosy ass jiggling every time she hit your hips. 

But then you heard a slam above her shouts of pleasure and mommy!

You looked up to check on her unsteady form as she continued to drench your lap, her hand resting on the back of her mother’s nameplate, her fingertips digging into the wood as she screamed in her euphoria. 

It made you fuck her harder and pull her hand away from the dog tag. You didn’t even care about punishing her anymore, you needed to cum. You’d been riding that edge since you got here, and you knew you were going to cum so hard.

You leaned over her body and grinded into her, moving her hand away from the plate and sitting back up in its position. You grabbed her by her spit-coated chin so she could look dead at her mother’s name. She whimpered and tried to look away from it, but you tightened the grip on her face to keep her still. 

“Look at it, baby— “

She sobbed, murmuring how hard she was about to cum again, her eyes fluttering as she stared at it, her cheeks glowing like apples.

You bent down to her ear, “You embarrassed, angel? Huh? Wanna close your eyes? Gonna squirt on me again?”

She was looking dead at the plate, “You’re so deep, mommy, fuck yes, m’gonna!—“

“Nasty fucking slut, taking it so good,” You looked up at the clear window as your thrusts picked up pace again, the entire city shining through the glass in all its glory. Every light of every building, people roaming, honking, noises of construction. It was all beneath you, and it was all theirs. The strap was bumping on your clit with each thrust. 

“Look at your city, baby,” you lifted her weightless head by her wild, knotted hair and made her look into the distance as you groaned in pleasure. “Gonna be all yours one day, can do whatever you want with it soon.”

“Fuuuck— “

“Uh huh, you like having that power? You can get whatever the fuck you want— “

“M-Mommy!”

“Just need a baby, right? Gonna g-give her what she wants? Gonna give her that precious heir, that golden child?”

“Yesyesyes! Wan’your baby, ge’me fucking pregnant!”

You moaned at her begging as you babbled mindlessly to her, “Gonna cum in you, fuck, need it… t’catch— “

She was screaming about how your seed was going to catch in her womb, how hard she was going to squirt again, begging you to fuck her harder, hurt her, make her bleed, make her scream. You could feel your senses leaving as your orgasm built as she pushed back on you, and you moaned her name in her ear. 

“Fuuuck, Ellie,” your clit jerked, and you let her go, her head falling onto her arm in front of her as she yelled in euphoria. “Gonna make that bitch raise my fuckin’ kid while I’m gone? Huh?”

She didn’t even react to your slip of your departure, “Yeahyesyesyes! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

You felt another spray of liquid drip down your legs as you drilled her, and it triggered your own orgasm. Your clit jerked as your release rushed through you, your walls clenching as your body shook on top of hers, grinding against her to ride it out. You could almost feel the sensation of filling her up, her cunt sucking your cum deep inside her. 

She was still moaning above you, wringing the last bits of her orgasm out on your cock. You whined against her sweaty skin, the aftershocks moving through you. 

You felt her go completely lax underneath you, heavy sighs leaving her parted lips. 

You both caught your breaths in soothing silence. 

After Ellie asked you to show her how to kiss properly, the pounding of your heart refused to slow down. 

You were seated in her mother’s chair once more, her wetness still coating you in stickiness as she straddled your lap, her arms around your neck as she gazed at you nervously.

“We just fucked, why do you look like that?”

Her brows creased, “Like what?”

“Like you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips before looking back up at you. 

You only hummed at her, brushing your noses together before leaning forward, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her down to you. Her eyes shut tightly, and her lips puckered in front of yours, and you pulled back, grabbing her face to stop her.

“Stop doing that, just relax.” 

“… What’d I do?”

You mimicked her, poking your lips out stiffly before breaking out into a grin. She huffed with a tiny smile, shaking her head, “Sorry.”

You shrugged, uncaring. She looked down, “Where do I put my tongue?” 

You snorted, “Nowhere yet.”

You craned your neck up slowly and connected your mouth with hers gently, your lips molding against hers. She sighed and leaned closer into you, her arms tightening around the back of your neck. You felt a sharp sting in your chest at her delicate touch, and you pulled away. A soft smack filled the room when you separated. She smiled softly, “That was cute.” 

You nodded stiffly, murmuring a mhm, before looking down. Out the window. Behind her. Anywhere but her eyes. 

You felt her nuzzle against your cheek, kissing it gently, “Are we… uh, fucking again?” 

“You want to?” The pounding in your ears was giving you a headache. 

You felt her nod. Another kiss to your cheek. Another pull in your heart. 

Your hands planted on her hips, lifting them so she could sit on you, but she grabbed your wrists to stop you. 

Her hands latched onto the hem of your shirt, attempting to pull it up and over your head, but your hand caught her wrist. Not harshly, but stern.

Her eyes softened at your masked expression, releasing the gentle grip on your shirt, “I’m, uh… I’m sorr— “

“It’s fine. Ready?” you grabbed the base of your dick in your hand, and she mumbled a quiet yes. 

You felt her hand come on top of yours as she helped you guide it to her entrance, and your breath shook as you exhaled.

Her hips came down on you at her own pace, your free hand resting on her hip. She gasped when it slipped inside, her hands coming to support herself on each armrest. 

“Feels different like this,” she whispered huskily.

You smirked, “I know, take your time.” 

She nodded, slowly sinking down on you. You saw her eyelids get heavy as her walls caught on every ridge of you, her head falling back in her pleasure. Her soft locks disheveled all over her head, her bun nonexistent as her bobby pins stuck out from every direction. 

She slid in too deep, though. She let out a pained gasp as she caught herself on the chair, her brows furrowing. 

“Okay?” you checked in.

She nodded, her lip in between her teeth, “So deep like this, fuck… don’t know if I can go all the way down.”

“It’s fine, babe, make yourself feel good.” 

“H-Help me?” her breathing was picking up as her hips bucked. 

Your other hand flew to her hips, digging into her soft skin as you guided her hips on you. You eased her into a deep grind, and her hands flew behind you, landing on the headrest behind you. 

Her head rested in the crook of your neck as she followed your movements, her wet moans hitting the side of your neck. The sensation of her breath on your skin made your pussy clench. 

“Am I—gasp—doing good, m-mommy?” 

“Fucking me so good, baby, shit,” you whispered in her ear, and she moaned aloud in yours. She sped up on you, the harness digging into your clit with each swivel of her hips. 

Your hands moved down to grab her ass, spreading her cheeks before slapping them, grabbing the plush of them in your hands. She fucked you harder, and you felt her spit drip on your neck as she wailed into your skin. You threw your head back on the headrest when she sucked on your neck, right on your open scar.

She lifted her head up and looked at you with gentle eyes, her hands moving down from the headrest to grab your cheeks in a soft touch. She was panting on your mouth, her lips brushing against yours with every jump on you. She was so close and she smelled so good, her lips soft. 

She whispered dreamily, “Can’t stop cumming— “

Your eyelids fluttered, “Then don’t. Give it to me, m’so close— “

She grinded harder as she leaned down to connect your lips in a honey-sweet kiss. You reciprocated against your brain's desires. 

Push her away. She’ll never be yours! This is all she wants from you!

Tears built in your eyes as your peak approached, her moans increasing in urgency against your mouth. You sucked on her bottom lip, biting it hard. This is the most eager you’ve felt since you touched her. 

“Cum with me, pleasepleaseplease— “

“I’m gonna, baby, fuck me hard!”

She was going crazy on your dick, full-on bouncing on you, taking it all despite her protests earlier, and you felt yourself tipping. Your pussy squeezed and soaked the harness as your orgasm pulled in your gut. You looked down at your cock, and it was drenched in her white, sticky substance. She was creaming all over your cock as she used you. It made your eyes cross in your skull as your euphoria hit you. 

You were so loud as your nails tore into her skin, your moans matching hers in volume. You felt another splash of fluid on you, and you came harder, another wave crashing through you. You would’ve curled in on yourself if she wasn’t on top of you. 

You felt her tongue slide into your hungry mouth, swirling around yours as you shouted through your high. She was making you feel so good, and you couldn’t fucking think. 

You felt like you were cumming for minutes before the harsh pulses slowed into soft twitches, her hips slowing, and she bent down to kiss you. The touch was soft, sweet, undeserved. You stiffened, on guard immediately. 

She was close, she was too close. Her soft caresses on your face snapped you out of your intoxication, pulling away from her mouth and grabbing her hips to pull her off your dick. 

“T-Turn around, Ellie.”

“Huh?” she asked softly, her eyes teary and delicate. 

“T-Turn around,” your voice trembled.

“O-Okay.”

She was too fucking close. 

She lifted off you, planting her feet on the ground and you spun her. You pulled her down on your lap, her ass in front of your cock. You grabbed your tip, pushing it past her entrance, and she mewled. She took it with ease, mewling out as her back arched into you, swallowing you whole as she sunk down again. 

She planted her hands on your knees and immediately bounced on you, her toned ass meeting the base of your harness with every jump on your cock. 

You could see her pussy suck on your inches, suffocating your girth, her walls clinging to you. 

You grabbed her neck and pushed her forward slightly, and she cried out in painful pleasure. You planted your feet on the floor and fucked up into her. 

“Fuck! Your dick feels so fucking good! Oh my—agh!”

You saw even move cream spread over your dick with every fuck inside her squishy walls. You were moaning with her, fucking her harder, faster, the hand on her neck moving up to pull her hair hard. The sound of wet skin slapping accompanied the sounds you both made in your pleasured state. 

You were going to cum so fucking quick, “Fuck, Ellie, shit— “

“I’m gonna cum so hard, mommy!” your hand in her hair flew down to her hip, grinding her down harder on you. You moaned at the feeling.

“Yeah? Already?” You were right behind her, those euphoric waves pulling in your gut.

“Fuck—fuckyes!”

“Want it so bad, get it all over this fucking dick, baby— “

Her hand that'd been playing with her tits flew down on top of yours on her waist, her fingers lacing with yours tightly as she shouted, screaming your name. She met your harsh thrusts as she bounced, and she squirted on you again, and you watched it gush out of her, wetting your stomach and harness and the chair beneath her, the sound of splattering liquid on the floor making you cum the hardest you ever had. Your vision whitened as your orgasm crushed you. 

She kept cumming on you, and you kept cumming for her. The pleasure didn’t stop, and all you could do was scream her name out like she did yours, hold her hand tighter as your brain melted. She rocked back and forth on you, prolonging your orgasm, making you cum harder. It just kept building in intensity, the aggressive pulses wracking through you, your toes curling as she milked you, and all you could do was take it.

You blacked out in her mom’s chair, the last thing you remember seeing was her pulsing, squirting pussy, pulsing ass, and the auburn stars that painted her entire back. 

Some time passed, your lashes fluttering open as you felt soft touches on your face. 

You were met with delicate, green eyes, Ellie looking at you with a softness you hadn’t seen in years. It felt foreign, deep, and it made your heart pick up in panic. 

You pulled away from her touches and looked around unsteadily. 

She was too close. Too fucking close.

The office was a mess: clothes everywhere, the floor was soaked, the whole room smelled like sex and pussy, desk askew, its contents thrown everywhere, Ellie’s tears and puddles of spit all over the surface. You could even see splatters of… her on her mother’s restraining order against you. 

You were suddenly terrified, moving into action and guiding her off your lap so you could stand. You undid the straps of your dick and stepped out of it, cringing at the drying stickiness, and throwing it into your backpack.

You heard her speak from behind you, “Hey, hey, you okay? What’s wr— ‘

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, I gotta go,” you said tensely. Unwelcoming. Guarded.

“Did… did I do something?” She sounded too soft, too gentle. 

“No, Ellie, I just, I gotta go,” You dressed erratically, pulling your underwear up and jeans on, wincing at your cum sticking to your garments. 

You could hear the crack in her voice, “Can I… do you need help or— “

“Ellie, I’m fucking fine. I’m fine, okay? Forget it.” You spat over your shoulder as you repacked. Don’t look at her, don’t fucking look at her. 

She sounded just as anxious as you did, “W-Why are you so upset with me all of a sudden? What’d I do— “

“You didn't do shit! Can you fucking drop it please!”

Her breath shuddered, “I thought… I thought we were… okay?” 

You whipped around to face her, an incredulous look on your face. Your heart shattered when she flinched, but you yelled at her anyway. Why the hell did you look at her?

“Why the fuck would we be okay?! Did you forget how we fucking met in the first place!” You pointed behind her to the soiled court order, “We’re never going to be fucking okay! Get that through your fucking head.” 

You reached down to grab your heavy bag, throwing it over your shoulder in a hurry. You felt like you were going to suffocate. You needed to go. Right now. You turned towards the door. You hadn’t even shut it all the way when you came in. 

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” 

Your own tears fell at the dejected acceptance in her voice. She sounded so broken, and it was all your fault. 

But you knew this was for the best. The two of you could never exist together in bliss, even though meeting her was the most human you’ve felt since you were a child. Since your father was alive. 

But you were too different, too damaged. All you would do is hurt each other, you would resent each other, grow to hate, to regret. The world was too cruel, and she was not prepared for its harshness. You were barely prepared, and you lived it every day. And you promised yourself to never go through the despair of loss again. You walked towards the door and heard her release a quiet sob. 

“No,” you pulled the knob, the spacious hallway being another reminder that you didn’t belong. Not here, not anywhere. Her mother was right. 

You were worthless. Held no value in this society. 

In another life, you could’ve been something great. Your cards could’ve been different, better. You could’ve made your father proud. The two of you could’ve been happy.

“You won’t.” 

You left the same way you came, moving in urgency before her sobs lured you back to take her in your arms, against your will. 

Maybe in another life. 

hi lol OOOOOOWEEEEE 

this was heavy sorry gworlies i love sad shit 

don’t hate me too much? 

omg tell me what y’all thought or whatever *looks away shyly 

thank u 4 reading if u did :3

hi taglist love yall @cherriessxinthespring @ellieswifee @elliespookie @belovednanami @sevikasimp @saturnsellie

[theghostkingisdead]

dpxdc - Neglected Child AU

As one of his first acts as Ghost King, Danny basically created ghost CPS. Mostly they help new spirits come to terms with the fact that they're dead, but situations like Danny's are a lot more common than the Observants had lead him to believe. People who come back from the dead or are exposed to large quantities of unstable ectoplasm often lead sad, short second lives. Either because they are unable to obtain the nutrients their new forms require, or because their communities turn against them in fear. This is a story about Jason Todd.

There was a lot Jazz loved about her job. She loved helping young ghosts find acceptance. She loved matching cases with foster Fraids. She loved meeting new people. She loved the rare excuse to travel dimensions. But some days, Jazz was intimately reminded of why this program was formed in the first place.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jazz looked up from her laptop. “Come in!”

Apple – the ghost of a dryad whose tree was chopped down two summers ago – poked her head in.

“Uh, Lady- I mean, Ms. Phan-, no,” Apple took a shuddering breath. Jazz smiled encouragingly. The girl had only been working here for a season, and already she was making excellent progress. “Ms. Jasmine, there’s a city spirit here to see you, uh, on behalf of a uh, potential client.”

“Thank you, Apple, you can send them in.” Jazz said.

Apple flushed green, closing the door with a sigh. Jazz guessed she had about two minutes before the impromptu meeting began. She used the time to sweep some papers off her desk and into a drawer. It had been some time since she’d had a walk-in like this. Jazz had a strict open doors policy when it came to her office, despite the technical fact that her door was often closed; it was just easier to focus that way! She had no idea why most ghosts preferred to submit claims by mail, really it was much better for them to speak with an officer in person.

Thirty years ago, Jazz would’ve had trouble describing the spirit that walked through the doors. Fifty years ago, even looking at it would’ve been painful. But Jasmine Duchess Phantom had been living in the Infinite Realms for almost eighty years now, and liminal senses reached out subconsciously, cataloging scents and colors that her mortal mind would have balked at.

The shape of a steel-colored skeleton peered out at her from a billowing cloud of grey smoke, which curled around its feet and seeped across the floor. Jazz tasted gunmetal and sugar, smelled stale urine and burned bread, felt desperation-fear-hunger-love crash violently against her. Like a cliff to a wave, Jazz stood her ground, letting herself be tested. This spirit was old and afraid; when it spoke, it spoke in a million overlapping voices.

“My apologies for barging in unannounced, Your Grace. I come before you with an issue of great import. One I have reason to believe our King may have a personal interest in.”

Jazz nodded, “My doors are always open, City Spirit. I’m always happy to help. But before I hear your petition, may I know who I am addressing?”

The skeleton did not move that she could see, but Jazz heard windchimes like chittering laughter.

“I am Gotham, Your Grace. My apologies for my rudeness. I have little reason to travel these days and am unaccustomed to necessary introductions.”

Jazz nodded, committing the name and its taste to memory. “No need to apologize, Gotham. Your situation is not unique amongst your kind. Have a seat,” Jazz gestured at the plush couch across from her desk. “What troubles you so, to bring you so far from home?”

There was more windchime tittering, and Jazz wondered if the spirit was laughing or just readjusting itself on a plane she could not see. A nervous tick, perhaps? Maybe she could send Apple for something to make Gotham feel more at ease. Bullet casings or chocolate chip cookies would be equally soothing to this entity, Jazz guessed.

Gotham folded into itself, form blurring slightly before reforming on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “Many years ago, a mortal man pledged himself to my service. I accepted him as a City Guard, my mortal Champion. This man has many children who have likewise pledged themselves to my protection.”

Jazz smothered the urge to interrupt. She loathed the idea of child Guards; the fact that this City Spirit was here now asking for help meant that this instance had gone just as well as it usually did.

Unaware of her internal judgement, Gotham continued. “The second child died and revived some seven years ago, I…” This time, the rattling sound emanating from Gotham shook the room with the force of a thunderclap. “You have to understand, I don’t claim kids as champions, so technically he was never even under my protection. And when he came back, he ran! I don’t have power outside the city, you know, so even if, well, it’s not like there was anything I could have done differently,”

Jazz was aware that she was frowning. She could only guess what her aura felt like to Gotham, whose smoky aura was rapidly thickening. A bird puffing itself up to look bigger. A cheap trick. If Jazz were in a more compassionate mood, she might have felt embarrassed at such a juvenile display from a spirit decades older than herself.

“You neglected a child, or-” she cut off Gotham before it could protest, “allowed a child to be neglected. For seven years. What changed? Why petition him now and not then?”

Gotham chittered, “Well, you see, he came back to me just over a year ago, retook his pledge and everything. And, well, things were rough, I thought the fraid was just readjusting itself, but, er-”

“Tell me.”

“Well, the problem is I don’t exactly know what the boy is anymore, but he’s more ghostly than not, and his fraid’s fully human. If this infighting between my Guards goes on for any longer, it’ll tear me apart. I figured The King might want to step in, considering this boy might be a halfa, maybe he could help him and the fraid get back to normal.”

Jazz grinned. “Rest assured, Gotham, The Crown will indeed be taking special interest in your case.” Words dripped from her lips, caustic even to her own ears. “Now, why don’t you go outside and give Apple the rest of the details. I have some visits to make.”

[marvelmusing]

Earned It

Pairing: Mafia!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Aleksander Morozova has specific tastes. Nikolai knows this, which is why he invites you to join him at one of Morozova’s parties in the hopes of fostering a business partnership. Once you set eyes on Morozova, you are more than happy to play the part of pawn.

Warnings [18+]: sexual content, dom!Aleksander, pain kink, exclusive kink party, semi public spanking and nudity, sir kink, praise kink, hints that the reader was used as an incentive for a deal between Aleksander and Nikolai

My Masterlist

It won’t be much longer before you lose your patience.

Bent over a table, you manage to moan when Nikolai swats at your ass cheek instead of groaning in frustration. He’s too gentle. It’s driving you up the wall.

He had asked you to be his plus one for this unconventional party, hosted by a potential future business partner - Aleksander Morozova - in an attempt at forming an alliance. Despite the rumours you’ve heard about Morozova, you had agreed to help your friend.

The two of you had discussed what you would be comfortable doing together at the party, though Nikolai seems to have misunderstood just how enthusiastic you are about public spankings. All too soon, it’s over, leaving you unspeakably dissatisfied.

He helps you stand upright again, looping his arm around your waist and smoothing your dress down as he looks down at you.

“You okay?”

“I thought you would have committed to the role a little more,” you remark quietly.

“You’re my friend,” he protests. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

While his words are sweet, you’re too on edge to say anything except,

“Could you get me a drink?” He nods.

Tugging at the hem of your dress a little self consciously, you move towards an empty sofa at the side of the room. Irritation prickles over your skin, a dissatisfied pout puckering at your lips as you sit down with a small huff.

Closing your eyes, you slump your head against the back of the sofa, delighting in the dull thud that reverberates through your skull. Irritated by the events of this evening, you continue to bang your head half heartedly against the soft edge of the furniture.

The repetitive motion helps to relieve some of your frustration - until someone grasps a fistful of the hair at the crown of your head, meaning it stings when you move to drop your head back against the sofa.

As your eyes snap open, you’re greeting by the sight of Aleksander Morozova standing over you.

“I don’t condone self inflicted pain at my parties.”

Heat burns through your body, prickling from your scalp down to your stomach that flips as his eyes lock on yours. His gaze is frighteningly direct and your thighs shift as you squirm in response to his attention.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Nerves have you nipping lightly on your lower lip, which makes Mr Morozova raise a dark brow pointedly at you. He hooks his hand beneath your chin, putting pressure on your lips with the pad of his thumb. Instantly, you release your lip from between your teeth, cheeks scolding hot.

“Good girl.”

The sharp breath that escapes you is involuntary and you are ten times more aroused now that you were when Nikolai was attempting to spank you.

“Let me guess,” he muses, stroking his fingers delicately over your cheek in a manner that has you leaning into his touch. “Young Mr Lantsov wants to do business with me, and thought inviting a pretty thing like you would sweeten whatever deal he hopes to offer me.”

A frown creases at your features and you begin to shake your head. Mr Morozova mirrors your expression mockingly with a raised brow and your stomach flips. He smirks.

“He didn’t?”

“I- I don’t think he did,” you stammer.

Mr Morozova laughs, tilting his head back as the bright sound escapes him. His laughter fades and he considers you for a long moment, continuing the motion of his thumb circling your cheek. Then he releases his hold on your face.

“Stand up.”

The loss of his touch is briefly upsetting, but you do as he says, smoothing your dress down nervously as you stand. Mr Morozova circles around the sofa, sliding between you and the piece of furniture before he sits down, claiming your seat for himself.

He takes a hold of your hips, guiding you to stand between his open thighs. Even sitting down, he’s able to reach for your chin, directing your gaze to meet his.

“I’m going to bend you over my knee now. Is that alright?”

Startled desire pools in your stomach as your eyes widen at his question.

“Please,” you whisper.

He pushes your dress upwards over your hips, revealing your lacy panties to him. The sight of his eyes darkening makes you shiver. He touches you leisurely, stroking over the lace covering your mound and pressing his thumb into your hip.

“Would you like to take these off for me?” he asks, his tone light. Instantly, your eyes flicker up to the rest of the party. There are plenty of eyes on you - mostly due the man in front of you. “You don’t have to,” he adds softly and you believe him.

Glancing back down to his eyes, you feel a sudden burst of confidence. The way he’s looking at you has warmth spreading through your body, making you eager to do as you please - and right now you want him to see you.

Hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties on either side of your hips, you slip them down easily, keeping your eyes locked on Mr Morozova’s. He smiles widely.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Such a beauty.”

The weight of his gaze is heavy as he admires you. It makes you squirm. Then he does as he promised, bending you over his lap so that your ass is on display for him. Mr Morozova scoffs.

“He didn’t leave a single mark on you.” A shudder runs through your body as he rubs his hand over your cheeks, his palm smoothing across every inch he can. “That simply won’t do. Will it, darling?”

“No, sir.”

“It’s unacceptable, leaving you wanting like this.”

You nod in agreement.

When he starts out gently, swatting your cheeks at a lazy pace, you whine and kick your feet lightly in protest. He lands a harsh crack to your backside that has you crying out, the skin there burning in the wake of his hand. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers and you whimper.

“Being neglected does not give you the right to act disobedient,” he scolds you in a low voice that makes you burn internally. “You will get what I give you and be grateful for it.” He places his hand at the back of your neck, giving a firm squeeze. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

He settles his hand back down onto your ass, petting the tender skin.

“That’s better.”

Every strike that lands has you sinking deeper into the sofa, into him. Arousal is thick and cloying in your body, filling up your mind like molten honey. The only sensation you are able to focus on is his hand as it meets whatever portion of your skin he deems worthy of his attention - and he appears to value every inch you’ve offered him.

His encouragements make your thighs quiver and butterflies swarm in your stomach as he praises you for withstanding something that you delight in. He makes every second of the pain worthwhile, ensuring that every spot he strikes makes you moan with a pleasure that makes you throb with need.

Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and it isn’t long before they spill down your cheeks, hot and salty as they smear over your flushed face. When he finally stops, your mind is hazy. A blissful lightness has filled your limbs and your gaze is unfocused as he turns you onto your side so that he can see your face. The beat of your heart is no longer in your chest, it’s between your legs.

“That was what you needed, wasn’t it?” he muses quietly, stroking his thumb over your cheek to wipe at the half-dried tears there. Nodding weakly, your eyes flutter shut. The image of his smile is burnt into your closed eyelids.

He continues stroking your cheekbones, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over your jawline and across the pulse point in your neck.

“Poor darling,” he murmurs. “Are you tired?”

Blinking heavily, you nod. Fatigue weighs down on your eyelids and the urge to curl up in the safety of his arms is incredibly appealing. He seems to notice, helping you sit up in his lap.

“That’s it. Come here.”

He drapes a cosy blanket over your body, his hands wandering beneath the fabric to squeeze reassuringly at your thighs, encouraging you to relax. It’s easy to press your face into his chest and you soon sink into slumber.

When you wake, you’re being lowered onto a plush mattress in a darkened room. It takes half a second for you to realise who is smoothing his hands down your bare legs, before he tucks a soft duvet over your body.

“Did you make a deal with Nikolai?” you ask Mr Morozova sleepily. He nods.

“I did.”

Exhaustion has buried itself into your body, a pleasurable ache spreading over your backside that has a giddy smile spreading over your face which you attempt to hide as you curl your arms around the nearest pillow.

“Good.”

The corner of his mouth quirks darkly as your eyes flutter closed again. He presses a kiss to your temple, his arms encaging you as he leans over your body.

“Sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

-

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla

[riizebabie444]

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 🩶

🩶 ─── in this reading, we will explore the qualities of the careers and fields you are best suited for, suggested careers for you and other career messages meant for you.

🩶 ─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.

🩶 ─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.

🩶 ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.

donations. games/events. feedback.

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚

this is a random message but it is very clear. for some or most of you, the career or field you are wishing to go into at the moment, or the one you are already in, is the right one for you. there is also a message to explore your creative potential. it doesn't necessarily mean creating art like music, writing, paintings etc (although that may be true for some of you) it could also mean creative problem solving, a job which requires you thinking outside the box. working in a field where things are done differently to others in the industry. the image i have in mind is google. they do a lot to encourage creativity and the birth of new ideas. you'd fit best in a career which nurtures and encourages your creative side.

it's also best to be in a career where there is the opportunity to grow in every aspect, and to further your position over the years. for example, i don't think you'd feel comfortable and happy in a job where you stay in the same position for years doing the same thing every single day. some people are happy in those jobs. they like the stability and routine. however, you need a job where you can always learn new things and progress. i'm seeing progression is also important to you. it's important to go into a job where you have more opportunities to climb up the ladder, and it doesn't even need to be all about promotions. a job where you regularly switch tasks, or have new projects to work on. as long as you aren't doing the same things every day, you should avoid jobs which do.

a job where you can express the qualities of success and confidence. where you can prove to yourself and others that you are fully capable. it could also be a career which puts you in the public eye. something that makes you feel seen and appreciated. again, promotions are here. you want a job where you can progress to high places. perhaps even becoming a figure of leadership and authority. you may not be confident about such a position right now but when you find something you love and excel in, you would be the right fit for a leader. and for a number of you, caregiving roles may be good for you. it could be anything from nursing to therapy.

okay so here is where it gets a bit negative. with the three of swords you may experience job losses, or disappointment in being rejected from jobs. it could also indicate that you may end up stuck in a very stressful job and toxic work environment. you want to avoid places like that. however, i believe some of you may need to experience it in order to know what is the right or wrong job and workplace for you. and for a number of you i get the message that even though it is difficult and stressful, and the workplace is not good for your mental health, it will not last. you will find a better job or get promoted and belong in a much better space. so if you ever find yourself in that position, have hope that it will improve. i think it is also a message, especially if you are a leader, to not allow a toxic work environment to foster as it is your duty to ensure it is safe and healthy for everyone to work in.

enterprises might also be something you would work well in. i'm seeing representing small or local businesses, as well as larger corporations for a number of you. it could also be setting up your own business. for some of you, you may have a typical job in mind in order to pay your bills and support a family, but deep down you have a dream of having your own business or brand. at one point or another, you might be torn between keeping your job to pay your bills or leaving it all behind and investing in your own business. i think either is fine, however, for most of you who this applies too, the message is to find a balance between the two. you can work full time and have a passion project/business on the side. work on it slowly and over the years it will blossom, i'm hearing. it is crucial you do not pick between the two and instead find a balance.

to add the obvious, you may dream of being your own boss. and i think you would do amazing things as a leader, however, you still need some sort of discipline or balance from elsewhere. if you're your own boss for too long, you can easily get lazy and complacent. so it is important for you to keep a job elsewhere to ensure you don't lose routine or dedication.

one last message is to expect times of change in your career as much as you should expect times of stagnation. any job you have, you will experience boredom at times and excitement at other times. you need to hear this. jobs are not one dimensional. you should expect many things from your career, both good and bad. so don't get your hopes up too high and don't get too disheartened when things don't go your way.

suggested careers/fields: project manager, hair dresser/hair salon owner, investments, influencer, working up the ladder, franchise owner, higher education, professor, networking, entrepreneur, business law, accountant for local businesses, nursing, social worker, therapist, counsellor, childcare, HR, arts and fashion, selling and/or creating luxury goods, beauty guru, acting, admin, consulting, writer, researcher.

cards: high priestess, the empress, six of wands, three of swords, two of pentacle, wheel of fortune

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤

i'm immediately hearing decision making. for some of you, a job where you can make the decisions would be good however for most, i am seeing that you may not fit best in careers where important decisions fall in your lap. to get one thing straight, every career will involve decision making at one point or another. but some careers involve very important decision making and i believe when you have too many important decisions to make on a regular basis, you can become very stressed. perhaps you are an indecisive person. overall, i think working in a position that requires heavy decision making would not be the best. however, if you are working with others to make decisions, i think it would be a good career for you.

for most of you, if not all, you will find success in the career of your taking. and for a lot of you, the cards are representing another person in regards to your career. a colleague or a business partner. if you dream of being your own boss, perhaps you would do well sharing this dream with someone else. it could also be a colleague. your career will lead to you meeting someone important. or vice versa, you will meet someone and they will help you get a really good job, the job of your dream. of course be careful, because people who help others often want help in return later down the line.

communication is a key theme here. a job which requires you to communicate your thoughts and ideas. for example, sharing stories as a writer, or even as an academic writer sharing research, or in law by communicating and mediating for your clients. i think for some of you, you would like a position of power. and for others you may not. for those who do, you would do well to use your power and authority for others rather than not doing so. you'd find more fulfilment and success by helping others. and mediating also. taking on communication responsibilities for third parties would be a good career for you. for example, an agent who helps people find jobs and corporations to find employees. hosting job interviews for the people you work for. even ghost-writing, communicating on behalf of the client. again with law. you may also enjoy the feeling of being responsible for transfers, employees, assets, moving companies. anything that involves moving one thing from one place to another.

i'm seeing disputes/conflict. perhaps you may deal with this a lot in your work environment or otherwise, it could mean your career typically involves this. i'm seeing HR settling an issue between employees. things like that. you might naturally be drawn to conflict or drama, and if not you are just interested in it. therefore, a position which allows you to be involved in it as an outsider would be interesting to you. there would always be something new to keep you on your toes. and you would feel very gratified after helping others solve their problems. in environments where there is lack of communication and poor leadership, you would fit in well in the role of solving these issues. it's very much a behind the scenes job but it is incredibly valuable to companies.

you need a job which will not disturb your work life balance. it's best to only take on a career which does not require you to work overtime, or where workload leaks into your private time and life. it is important to have a job where you can work hard, but only within the working hours. a job where you can give fair and honest work and feel appreciated enough to have your own time to spend with loved ones and yourself.

a job where you can always remain unbiased. you may feel uncomfortable picking sides so a place which encourages objectivity would be a good fit for you. you might also enjoy jobs in health and fitness. somewhere that encourages others to do their best. teaching, also. law and order are important also.

a slow paced environment would be perfect for you. fast paced might lead to high levels of stress. so slow paced is better. successful careers are built over time. you're not too fussed about seeing amazing results straight away because you know the best results always come after long and consistent efforts. so jobs which require you to be very patient would be good. you expect all of your work to pay off in the future. because of this, i also thing agricultural industries may be good. the final message is to not be swayed by other people's thoughts and opinions. there may be some people who have hidden motives with you and your career. you may struggle to make good decisions and not know who to trust which may end up with you trusting the wrong people. be careful, and hone in on your intuition because it will help you in the most crucial times of your career.

suggested careers/fields: animal care, justice system, politics, judge, lawyer, sales person, guidance counsellor, public speaking, doctor (not specifically medical but in other fields), self-employed, problem solving, mediator, HR, teacher, auditor, law, financial institutions, health and fitness, farming, gardening/landscaping, charity worker, social worker, engineer, scientist, STEM, activist, telecommunication, journalism, trading, public relations, events manager, customer service, liaison.

cards: the magician, the sun, two of swords rv, five of swords, justice, seven of pentacles, high priestess rv

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚

overall, this pile feels quiet and mellow. so i think calm jobs that don't involve too much excitement would be good for you. a job that doesn't require far too much effort from you, but you still know exactly what you are doing in the job. which is funny because most of the cards suggest otherwise, but the vibes i'm feeling are different. i randomly heard "beware of snakes" so maybe it is that you want to avoid bad vibes from others. you want to do well and have the personality and potential to perform incredibly (it is represented by the two aces and the magician) but you are afraid of attracting jealousy from others. most of you may believe in nazar, or the evil eye. you want to do well quietly, staying humble and not gaining too much attention from others.

you might want to avoid the overly friendly workplaces, the companies that tell you "we're all like family" because odds are your coworkers will be all up in your business when you don't want them to be. and more often that not, they may not like to see of hear about you doing well. of course, you can choose whichever company you want yo work for, this is all subjective. however, the message is strong here to not let coworkers get too close. if you feel like you need to be cautious, do not doubt it at all. jobs where you can work independently or remotely may be good for you. i think you enjoy the responsibilities and the isolation you can get from those jobs. you can really focus on your own work instead of worrying about socialising and networking (which are important, don't get me wrong but i think you are not the type of person to be heavily involved in such activities).

technology and IT. jobs where you're required to use your brain. you need mental and intellectual stimulation so jobs which require lots of brainwork would be great for you. also jobs which require you to have a sharp and quick mind, and even a quick tongue. a job where you need to respond quickly, on the spot. maybe as a lawyer or judge. i think you are the type of person who tends to avoid making decisions but i believe the best career for you would involve you needing to make decisions as a part of it.

i also see jobs where you can provide stability for others as well as providing stability for yourself. this could mean that setting up your own business to help or guide others would give you a lot of satisfaction. such as a personal trainer, life coach, dietician etc anything that will allow you to improve the lives of others. you could even be thinking of starting your own sales company. i'm seeing a position where you are calm, smart, and powerful. logical and rational, and also honest. key organisational abilities here, like secretarial duties. a job where you can keep things organised tightly.

there is a huge duality here. like, i see you craving to be a bold and confident person in your ideal job, someone who is admired by others but in reality you are afraid to be that person. maybe you are not used to being in the spotlight and you're not ready to start now. so you must find a balance between the two. you can be confident without needing to be in the spotlight. i think your biggest fear in regards to career is conflict. you want to avoid uneasy workplace relationships. you don't want to be too close with your coworkers but at the same time you don't want to be left out. you want to perform well and show off how good you are at what you do but you're terrified of other people being jealous of you. there's not much i can say other than jealousy is often rooted in workplaces. no matter where you work, there will always be others who are jealous of you, some places more than the next. however, what matter the most is your own comfort and confidence. don't admit to defeat out of fear of others. if you love a job. go for it. i'm literally hearing it right now. don't let your fear of others hold you back, but always be careful about what you share.

suggested careers/fields: IT, psychiatry, surgeon, engineer, affiliate marketing, life coach, personal trainer, fertility, army and police, investigations, detective, guide, translator, business job, nine to five, desk job, logistics, bargaining, vlogger, running your own business, innovation, writer, interior design.

cards: ace of swords, ace of pentacles, the magician, king of swords, five of swords, two of swords, nine of wands

🩶 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧

i cannot say this first paragraph is for all of you however, it will resonate with some of you. the career you have in mind right now, or the one you are currently in, is not the right one for you. i see there needs to be some change or transformation in your career. of course it is not easy to just change career. but if you feel this message is for you, it might be worth looking into a new career which is more worth your time and effort. there is a decision that needs to be made. if you're thinking of switching careers/field, this paragraph and reading is definitely for you.

overall, i'm seeing two different sides to this pile. one side is an authoritarian side, position of power and respect. while the other is more caring and nurturing. your ideal career could be either of those, or both. i see a number of you preferring to be in a job with explicit structure. a jobs that tells you what you need to do. so you know what you need to do every day and there is no confusion over tasks or responsibilities. but at the same time, you want to have some freedom. every day cannot be the same or you'll get bored. that is why is see jobs involved in childcare. you know your responsibilities in regards to caring for children, but with children, no day will be the same. this could also be caring for animals, elderly people, people with disabilities or other vulnerable people.

and although jobs where you can connect with children would be good, any job which can allow you to connect with others in general is a good choice. particularly, partnerships. a business partnership would be great as you can connect with others as well as structure your own enterprise. and since you rely on a structure from others to keep you in order, having other people work with you in an enterprise can keep you in line. also, if you know about the principal agent theory, i think you would perform well as an agent. you do well when performing tasks on behalf of a principal. in addition, when you are working for someone else, you know what you are doing, and what you need to achieve in order to satisfy them. whereas if you are working entirely for yourself, you might often feel confused about what needs to be done.

practical jobs which require thinking (but not too much thinking) would be great for you. you like to be actively involved, both physically and mentally, in your work which means repetitive jobs that have you on autopilot most of the time would be too draining and unsatisfying for you. but still, i think you would greatly appreciate professional settings and/or professional boundaries. i believe some of you may also work well in a field which is somehow connected to your past. for example, if you grew up with financial difficulties, you would be most satisfied in finance. or if you had a difficult childhood, then you would enjoy giving care to children. if you really enjoyed school, you might be most comfortable working in a school. it's that kind of theme and is entirely subjective to your own experiences. but something from your childhood connecting with your career is relevant.

one message here is to let go of insecurities and jealousy and imposter syndrome. because you want to be the best of the best, and you compare yourself to others a lot. you might often feel inclined to outdo others. it's a normal feeling, but the cards here are saying to let go of those thought habits. it will not bring you anything good. building up a successful and stealthy career for yourself will greatly be based on creating a foundation from your values as well as your passion. so don't sabotage yourself or others for your own success. keep in line with your morals. spiritual guidance also comes up here. so perhaps seek some in order to overcome these traits, and maybe consider it as a part of your career.

i can't tell your stance on risk, i feel it is a mixed bunch here. some of you may like taking risk while others do not. if you feel like a career which involves risk is something you are interested in, the cards do tell you that it is a very important decision, however, you must make calculated risks. don't just take the leap of faith. you need a thorough plan. i also see something creative, like art or writing, maybe even food. take it as it resonates and if you feel attracted to pile one also, give it a read because that is the creative pile.

suggested careers/fields: hierarchy, desk job, large corporations, teaching, childcare, primary school, paediatric, healthcare, hospital, banking, army, tax, career advisor, funeral director, financial advisor, insurance, software engineer, therapist, lecturer, spiritual guide, bookkeeping, church, electricity/energy, power plants, technology, chef.

cards: the lovers, death, king of pentacles, six of cups, four of pentacles, the hierophant, the fool, two of swords

© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.

[comradekatara]

so i read azula in the spirit temple. i actually quite liked it! it helps that she looks absolutely gorgeous in wartman's art style. it's so much easier to digest this new batch of hicks comics, not only because they're actually being written by someone who understands the themes and characters of atla, but because they're so much more aesthetically pleasing than the former art style, which didn't do any characters any favors.

now, i'm gonna venture into spoiler territory as i discuss specific panels, so if that's something to wish to avoid for now, i've put the rest of this post under a readmore. also, send me an ask if you want the link for the full comic, and thank you to @samtamdan for providing me with it!

i. thesis.

first of all, the idea that azula could have found "redemption" in the temple was teleologically illusory, due to the fundamental premise of how such "redemption" was being facilitated. that said, i don't think it was her "crossroads of destiny" moment (a potential for change wherein zuko chose wrong), but rather the leadup to "crossroads of destiny," which is to say, his metamorphic fever dream. like zuko, she's seeing visions of her loved ones manifested from her subconscious giving her conflicting accounts as to who she is and what she should do. so while the seeds are being planted, her growth is still to come.

but genuine growth cannot be facilitated in this manner. how can azula embrace "growth" she knows to be an illusion? she's definitely not being overly paranoid here by refusing to "just accept what is offered," especially considering she has experienced psychosis in the past. while i think that this spirit does accurately acknowledge the root of azula's core issue, which is that she was raised in an environment where she was denied unconditional love in such a way that she convinced herself she was fundamentally unlovable and undeserving of care (thus motivating her to overcompensate through avenues she could excel in), the visions the spirit offers don't actually provide azula with unconditional love. they list her accomplishments and state how she is a credit to her nation, but that won't allow for azula to recognize that what she truly craves is a love that transcends stipulations and is not facilitated through fear. she can't have any sort of emotional breakthrough when she is being praised for aspects of herself that were valued and fostered by her abuser who indoctrinated her into an imperialist ideology, and so the promise of "redemption" (in this particular instance) was hollow from the start, and i think that she was right to ultimately reject it.

however, her moments of genuine vulnerability wherein she voices her repressed subconscious fears may lead to her eventually arriving at a greater self-awareness and emotional clarity on her own somewhere down the line.

ii. manifestations.

a small detail i loved was when ty lee appeared to her, i could immediately tell that she was an illusion, because she was acting how azula sees her. the beginning of the comic even foreshadows this "reveal" (i mean, i think it would have been more shocking had she actually been real, but you get what i mean) by showing us a glimpse of ty lee acting more authentically now that she's no longer under azula's thumb. and it's particularly amusing to me that in azula's mind, ty lee is a perky airhead and mai is a massive cunt.

not gonna lie, the fact that this is how azula sees mai made me laugh.

of course, ty lee does always feign oblivious cheer around azula, and mai is blunt and honest to the point that she can sometimes seem mean, but it also speaks to the fact that as much as azula clearly cares so much about them, she's never truly understood them. that said, azula's last clear memory of mai is her choosing to say the exact words that she knew would hurt azula most ("you miscalculated, i love zuko more than i fear you") so it makes sense that her subconscious would now manifest a version of mai who voices azula's innermost fears.

furthermore, the fact that mai would manifest to azula as an extension/double of ty lee instead of as her own person, wearing the kyoshi uniform even though mai herself is not a kyoshi warrior, is such an interesting choice to me. i think it signifies how azula views mai and ty lee as a cohesive unit; they are inextricably linked in her mind due to the fact that they chose each other over her. while zuko does appear later as a manifestation out of the same figure, he is wearing his firelord robes, indicating that azula's memory of mai in kyoshi warrior garb back in book 2 is significant to her. i think it can be read as a clever allusion to that very subtle moment of foreshadowing in book 2, but it primarily indicates how azula sees mai and ty lee as two faces of the same body, donning the garb they once wore as a disguise – only now it indicates that their dual loyalties were also in opposition to azula.

ty lee, on the other hand, can only be a bitch to azula obliviously, when she appears ignorant of how much her words have the capacity to hurt her. considering this is a continuation of the yang established canon, the fact that (azula's vision of) ty lee would so casually suggest azula seek help from a psychiatric institution would read as condescending mockery and is clearly incredibly triggering for her, but her phrasing allows for an ambiguity of intention that azula has come to associate with ty lee's discursive affect.

of course, we as the audience know that ty lee was always perfectly conscious of how to veil her insults towards azula with enough plausible deniability that azula didn't even register them as deliberate insults at all. however, i wonder whether time away from ty lee with the hindsight of her betrayal allowed azula to reframe the nature of their relationship. and while she does still see ty lee as enduringly cheerful, that also makes sense considering she never truly witnessed ty lee drop her mask.

these nuances are the kinds of subtle distinctions only someone who truly understands their characters could write, which is why i'm so grateful they ditched yang and hired hicks.

iii. love and friendship.

i also love these panels in particular as they speak to azula's feelings for mai and ty lee. despite her... less than stellar treatment of them, it's always been clear that azula does love her friends. the reason their betrayal hit her so hard is because she wanted them to care about her as much as she cared about them, and she rationalized that hurt after the fact by claiming that she was actually upset because they betrayed "their nation." this rationalization is a pattern for her, psychologically. azula uses her status as a means of elevate herself, while simultaneously debasing her personhood/humanity (not only viewing herself as a vessel/weapon, but fearing that she is in fact a "monster") as she fears that she is uniquely unworthy of love. the irony there is that her status as the prodigious fire nation princess was what led to her dehumanization, and (like zuko and iroh before her) deconstructing her imperialist ideology would be a necessary step in her ability to uninternalize the way she sees herself stemming from ozai's abuse.

i also found it interesting that azula calls zuko a "stupid boy who didn't even want her." there are so many layers to that claim. first of all, zuko isn't just a random boy (although he might be stupid). he's her brother, and as much as she may deny it, she cares about him deeply. but here, the fact that zuko is a boy takes precedent over the fact that he's her brother, which screams teenage lesbian logic to me. azula cannot understand why her friends would choose a boy over the close female friendship that meant so much to her because her attempt to inhabit mai's perspective, as a girl who has romantic feelings for a boy, is genuinely impossible to her. i know this interpretation may seem like a stretch, but i really don't think that azula would say "she broke up our team for a stupid boy" and not "for my stupid brother" otherwise, considering that azula does have an established precedent of feeling specifically hurt by her loved ones choosing zuko over her. her wording is distinctly gay here.

furthermore, azula claims that zuko "didn't even want her." i've talked before about how azula is hoisted by her own petard regarding mai's betrayal, since she initially set zuko and mai up (there is a comic that establishes this, but since i don't consider the comics canon, i will also say that this reading is heavily implied in "the awakening"), whether to control both of them through each other, or as an incentive to keep zuko on her side, or out of a genuine altruistic desire to matchmake, or a combination of the above, or otherwise, and that choice to bring them together ended up backfiring spectacularly. but i think the fact that azula had to pull the strings to get them together also led her to assume that any care they might have had for each other wasn't genuine, and while i think that to a degree she is correct, because their relationship was largely a hollow facade, she could not have expected that their relationship would lead to their breakup which led to their conversation in the boiling rock that motivated mai to take a stand. (and of course there's also the fact that the wording of the latter clause, azula claiming that zuko didn't want mai, is equally as gay as the former. she may as well have called zuko a slur here.)

sidenote: while i could definitely spend ample time dissecting this entire panel, for now i'm just going to address the fact that the boy azula sees in her initial dream sequence isn't even chan (the guy she kissed) but ruon-jian. obviously azula in this moment knows that her hair looks like shit (although i think the overgrown uneven bangs are a really cute look on her tbh) and she's stinky from running around in the woods for however long she has, but the fact that the voice presenting that compliment to her isn't even coming from the boy she ostensibly "liked" makes it even more evident that she cares about validation from boys insofar as she believes that she is supposed to, but doesn't actually care enough about them as individuals to distinguish between them. chan and ruon-jian are interchangeable symbols to her that function to affirm her (heterosexual) femininity, but she still cannot fathom why anyone would forsake their cherished female friends out of genuine feeling for "a stupid boy." azula is such a baby lesbian.

and finally, the fact that this entire plot is incited by her replacement girl group choosing one of their own over her command illustrates how much mai and ty lee's betrayal still resonates. she is attempting to cling to an idealized past via recreating their friend group, but she still hasn't learned her lesson that she cannot make genuine friends by being controlling and ruling through fear, and so history repeats itself, and they, too, leave her. hopefully her next endeavor to find a friend group of likeminded girls will be tempered by newfound knowledge that love and mutual support creates stronger bonds than fear, but since she has yet to be shown genuine care from anyone in her life, that has yet to be seen.

iv. parents.

one quibble i do have is that because hicks has to adhere to the precedent set by the yang comics, despite navigating and adapting to those precedents deftly, some choices simply fall flat. for the most prominent example, the retcon that ursa is still alive necessitates that azula's understanding of her mother's absence is slightly muddied, but that's always gonna be a choice i disagree with, so i can't exactly single out this particular comic when it nonetheless does such a great job of attempting to mitigate prior issues, mostly by focusing entirely on its role as a psychological character study rather than attempting to deal with the mess of a plot that yang established.

that said, i do think that this panel is really poignant, and the fact that azula is even able to speak to her fear of ozai is a really big step for her. i think that azula acknowledging that she legitimately didn't have a choice is actually a really important milestone on her path to healing. her cognitive dissonance regarding her denial that ozai's abuse dictated her actions through fear is a matter she needs to address and articulate fully if she is ever to find peace. it's understandably difficult for her to reconcile her lack of agency and how terrifying the circumstances of her childhood were, and she even oscillates here between acknowledging that she was terrified of ozai and claiming that ozai is the only family she has left who hasn't betrayed her. i think that azula almost wants to be a monster who drives everyone away because that means that she nonetheless has enough control to be responsible for her fate, and actually facing the extent to which ozai's abuse shaped her is really scary. moreover, it's still difficult for azula to recognize how much harm ozai has caused her because she has no other form of material support, and without the hollow approval of her abuser, she is truly and utterly alone. which, incidentally, is exactly why he isolated her in the first place.

v. conclusion.

while, i know that some people may be disappointed that the telos seemed like a net zero, i think that the push towards isolated character studies that don't affect the plot since hicks was hired actually works really really well considering she understands each character well enough to write these compelling little character studies that largely serve to reinforce the themes of the show via placing a single character under a microscope. and while i think the toph and katara standalone comics were cute but unmemorable, the suki and azula comics were really good because they are both characters who can benefit from having their perspectives foregrounded, whereas we already get plenty of foregrounded pov from toph and (especially) katara in the show itself. azula is a character whose inner life is largely relegated to subtext, so seeing her literal subconscious battle itself upon her spiritually-manifested psychological landscape was a really cool way of communicating her latent internal struggle that has compelled me for so long. despite it being a relatively short comic, there was so much to unpack here that i could really only choose so many key panels to discuss, but that depth and richness to the text is something i appreciate greatly. azula is one of my favorite characters to analyze, so this comic was really like a field day for me.

and here are just some panels i found particularly amusing:

gotta find a way to take potshots at zuzu even when she's completely alone. she's such a little sister sometimes.

tl;dr: overall, i really enjoyed this aesthetically pleasing character study of azula's shattered psyche, and although i only unpack a handful of my favorite panels in this post, i am happy to discuss any further thoughts you guys may have regarding other facets of this comic in my inbox!

[alecvolturiswifeforever]

Sunlight in a dark room | A.V x READER

warnings: kinda angsty, mentions of blood enemies to lovers??!! kinda?!

a/n: keep an eye out for part two 👀

ʚɞ

“You are insufferable. Do you know that?” You hear Alec sneer as you turn from your place on the couch, giggling as you read the book in your hands. His lip curls in distaste as he stares at you, leaning against the doorframe of his room as he watches you.

You had been declared mates a total of four months ago, and the kings had made the decision that you were not to leave… practically forcing the bond to come together. Those four months had been absolute hell, Alec was determined to make it known that he did not want a mate, especially one as eccentric and kind as you.

You recalled Aro mentioning once about a potential gift. You were well known for your kindness, and everyone around you felt the love which radiated from your body. You had been relentlessly bullied when you were younger, and your neglectful parents failed to give you the love in which every child deserved to receive and so you had made a vow to yourself when you were young. You would never hurt anyone the way they hurt you. It took years of therapy after you had been put into the foster system to open up about it, and when you were placed with the Cullen family the only person you were willing to be vulnerable with was Carlisle.

You sighed, zoning back into the conversation and simply smiled at Alec. He scoffed at you again as he pushed himself off of the wall, making his way further into the room.

“You act like you’re so innocent. Always smiling and giggling and skipping around as if you’re so perfect and everyone loves you. Everything that is good in the world is eventually destroyed. You’re foolish if you think you’re an exception.”

His words stung slightly, though you put that down to the bond you had been burdened with. You clenched your jaw as you continued to smile at him.

“Nothing you say to me will make me want to be mean to you, Alec. You can push me all you want. You’re not the first to be mean to me and you most certainly won’t be the last.”

He raised an eyebrow at you as he stepped even closer.

“So you do have some fire in you after all.” He chuckled darkly. “Spare me your pity party, I don’t care.”

You simply stared at him for a moment, having nothing more to say as you turned back to your book. However, you had unwillingly provoked him more as he uttered a few more words before taking his leave.

“You’re naïve to that that nothing bad will ever happen to you and you’re stupid to think you’re safer in here than out with your own kind”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Hours passed between your exchange with Alec. You were about to get up and ready for bed when you’re door opened suddenly, Demetri sliding in and shutting it quietly. You opened your mouth to speak but he quickly shushed you with a finger to his lips.

“Keep your voice low, Y/N”

“What’s going on?” You spoke softly as you tilted your head.

“A group of vampires have attacked the castle, we don’t know for sure but Aro is convinced it’s something to do with the Romanian coven.”

The soft look on your face dropped as your eyes widened as Demetri continued.

“We are unaware if any of them are roaming the halls, Afton and I were told to collect you and escort you to safety, he is waiting behind the door.”

“Safety?”

“Everyone is gathered in the throne room… everyone who’s not currently patrolling around the castle. I’ll be taking you there and you are to sit with the kings and their wives until you are told otherwise.”

You looked to the floor as you took in his words before he lightly grabbed your wrist.

“Come.. we will get you there safely. I promise.” You met his eyes as you saw the promise beneath them, what with him being like the older sibling you never had and so you nodded and allowed him to drag you outside and through the long winding hallways.

As you neared the doors to the throne room your stomach began to churn, your gut warning you not to get any closer, however the need for safety clouded your judgement and so you continued to grip onto Demetri’s arm tightly as Afton walked ahead, planning on entering the throne room to ensure you were permitted to enter. You were only two corridors away when dread hit you like a freight train.

Demetri stood up straight, body tensed as it suddenly became eerily silent. Just for a moment, the calm before the storm until l all hell broke loose. The crumbling of rock could be heard and you were grabbed from behind as several newborns circled around your protector, your face being slammed into the stone wall. You cried out in pain as the vampire held your head painfully against the jagged edges of the cobblestone, cheek grazed and threatening to spill drops of blood.

You winced at the thought and a whimper of fear left your lips, causing the vampire to push you harder against the wall. They growled low and you heard them inhale over the chaos which was happening just metres away from where you were held. You felt liquid drip down your cheek, quickly realising your fear had come true, the grazes on your cheek now spilling out blood. The vampire pulled you away from the wall to run a finger down your cheek, still restraining your arms but at least you could move your head freely now. You were about to turn to see if Demetri was okay before you were paused but the vampires words:

“You smell so tasty.” He grunted “It’s a pity really, the Volturi scum should know better than to keep snacks lying around.”

He raised his bloodied finger to his lips though before he could stick them in his mouth the door at the end of the corridor quickly burst open.

“Get your hands off of her.”

Your attacker was pulled off of you swiftly and the deep brunette hair of Alec blurred in your vision as he lunged and attacked the vampire, making quick work of tearing his head from his shoulders and rolling it into the pile of limbs you hadn’t realised had been forming.

You looked around to see both Felix and Santiago had joined in helping Demetri dispose the few newborns left. You felt hands on your cheeks as Alec’s face filled your vision, eyes flitting over your face with a worried expression.

“Sweetface, are you okay?…” He stroked your jaw with his thumb and he tilted his head at your lack of response “Y/N?”

Your bubbly facade broke for the first time in front of him and his face softened. He quickly pulled you into him as you let out a loud whimper.

“You are safe. You are okay.” He chanted as you began to sob, both your arms wrapping around his which had wrapped around you. “We’re getting you to the throne room.”

ʚɞ

[thevelaryons]

I’ve always found it interesting that of the lowborn/bastard women in the DotD, Marilda is the only one who doesn’t get slandered and insulted in the Westerosi history books.

Speaking specifically about the women who were rumored to have had affairs with noblemen, the women (Sara Snow/Alys Rivers/Nettles) in particular get derogatory descriptions for various reasons. The men they are linked to all either die or are unable to do anything about the rumors (Sara: her rumored lover Jace dies and her brother Cregan is far away in the North when those rumors become a thing in the South years later/Alys: her rumored lover Aemond dies and her son is obviously too young to do anything about the insults people are saying about his mother/Nettles: her rumored lover Daemon dies). Regardless of whether any of the rumors were true or not, it's still the women in the relationships who were described in a negative manner. Even men like Aemond or Daemon don't get as slandered, despite their more controversial actions.

Sara may or may not have existed (the fact that her existence alone is doubted speaks for itself) but in the history books she is described as an "unwashed" bastard. Even the fact she was a virgin at the time of her affair with Jace is called into question. Alys gets descriptors like "slattern" and "cow". She is reviled as a seductress and witch who would sacrifice her own children. Nettles gets insulted as well, both by characters around her and the maesters/septons recording the histories. Beyond the classism, there is also a racial angle to the insults with her skin colour always being at the forefront when she gets called "dirty" and "creature". It’s unfortunate but Westerosi society is unfair to women, especially those of a lower social class, and so they do often have to rely on the men in their lives, whether that’s a male lover/husband, their father, brother(s) or son(s) as a source of protection. Characters like Sara/Alys/Nettles don't get that protection.

Then you get to Marilda's descriptions in the book, and it's completely clean. Not a single insult is uttered against her despite her supposed involvement with two different Velaryon men. Whether her affair was with Corlys or Laenor, it occurred at the time when they were married men. Laenor is dead by the time when he's claimed to be the father of Marilda's sons. But Corlys is alive and well. Not to mention, he's a very well respected figure in Westerosi society. That being said, I can’t see Corlys doing any major PR control here since he does not have the means to do so.

Alyn, however, could ensure his mother did not get negative remarks. He's the one said to have fostered close ties to the Citadel and a positive relationship with the Faith. On more than one occasion, he was anointed by the High Septon himself, which is something that's typically reserved for the King or his Kingsguard. So I think Alyn might’ve used that influence to his favor.

While Alyn does seem like the type who doesn’t care much about what others think of him, he clearly respects his mother so I doubt he would want her to have a bad reputation. Even concerning the rumors of Alyn's potential affairs, the maesters are somewhat dismissive about them and call the rumors "unreliable". They don't give much credence to what third parties are saying on such matters. As for Alyn's mother, she is spoken of with nothing but respect and even flattery at times.

History is truly written by the victors.

[novlr]

How do you best depict a language barrier? I have a character who doesn't understand much English and speaks even less, but most of the others don't understand a word of Japanese, which is what she speaks.

Communication is a cornerstone of any good characterisation. But for some characters there may be elements that block traditionally clear communication, and language barriers are just one example of that. Every interaction is filled with potential misunderstandings or revelations of clarity. Let’s explore how to bring language barriers to life in your writing, showing the struggles and triumphs that come with characters trying to connect across language and culture.

Understand the role of language in your story

Consider the cultural and geographical context of your characters.

Explore the historical ties or conflicts that might have led to the language differences.

Determine the significance of the language barrier to the plot—is it an obstacle, a source of conflict, or a way to deepen character relationships?

How can you use language to illustrate the power dynamics between characters?

What is the emotional impact of miscommunication on all your characters?

Why do you want to write about language barriers? If it’s just for the sake of a miscommunication trope, consider if there’s perhaps a better way for you to achieve the same aim.

Have you taken the time to understand the culture whose language you are trying to represent?

Characterisation through language

Incorporate a mix of languages or dialects to enrich the authenticity of the setting and the characters’ experiences.

Pay attention to the non-verbal communication cues that can transcend language barriers, such as body language and facial expressions.

Respectfully create characters with varying degrees of proficiency in the language they’re learning or interacting with.

Use language as a way to show a character’s adaptability, intelligence, or stubbornness.

Let characters’ reactions to the language barrier drive their development throughout the story.

Consider how language barriers may influence a character’s inner thoughts and how they perceive the world around them.

The mechanics of writing dialogue

Don’t overuse accents or continually spell them out. Use description to signal a character’s struggle instead of phonetically writing it.

Suggest broken language skills by using simple words, or incorrect grammar, but don’t resort to stereotypes.

If you choose to write an accent phonetically, don’t repeat this for every line of dialogue. Use it once as an example, and then use description to give the sense of it moving forward.

Balance readability with authenticity—make sure the dialogue is understandable to your audience in a way that is still respectful to your character.

Foster immersion through context rather than a direct translation of foreign words which often don’t hold the same meaning. Using vocabulary that characters and readers can deduce from context strengthens the narrative and characterisation.

Present the characters’ linguistic progression realistically, showing their learning curve and how it affects their interactions.

Non-verbal communication

Emphasise body language, facial expressions, and gestures to show communication without spoken language.

Use context clues and the characters’ surroundings to help convey meaning.

Explore how misunderstandings can arise from non-verbal miscommunications, but also show when non-verbal communication helps clarify things that can’t be conveyed verbally.

Consider the situational context that might enhance or impede non-verbal understanding among characters. For example, in high-tension scenes, even subtle gestures can carry heavy meaning.

Acknowledge cultural variations in body language and educate readers subtly through the narrative.

Describe the physical environment as it can also influence the way characters use non-verbal communication—proximity, personal space, and even the weather can all play roles.

The emotional impact of language barriers

Show how characters find innovative ways to express themselves and connect with others.

Describe the frustration, isolation, or desperation that characters may feel when they can’t communicate.

Use the language barrier to create poignant moments of miscommunication and resolution.

Show how shared experiences can forge bonds that transcend words and even serve as a foundation for trust.

Explore the characters’ emotional journeys as they navigate through their inability to communicate. This can lead to a deeper understanding of each other over time, despite the initial hurdles.

Consider the long-term effects of language barriers on relationships and character psyche, both positive and negative.

Research and authenticity

Study the languages you are writing about, including their structure and common phrases. If you’re writing a fantasy language, then research common language structures on which to base your characters’ experiences.

Understand the culture tied to the language to avoid stereotyping and to provide richer detail. For real languages, do research, for fictional languages, work on some deep worldbuilding for authenticity.

If possible, talk to speakers of the language you’re writing about, or speak to folks who have experienced a similar language barrier more generally.

Seek feedback from native speakers or cultural experts to ensure accurate representation and to honour the community’s linguistic nuances.

Be mindful of the socio-political influences on language and communication, presenting these complexities through your characters’ interactions either through worldbuilding, or researching real-world etymology.

[srbachchan]

DAY 5782

Jalsa, Mumbai Dec 16/17, 2023 Sat/Sun 1:51 AM

I tried , but could not .. so up and about and here with the most desired .. my Ef .. in non sleep condition ..

when work is absent , the desire is absent too .. to be occupied, to contribute to do some work differently or bring change ..

OR

study ..

With time now there is keenness to devote to some of the left over important tasks .. learning recording and satisfying the long cherished absolute firmed intent to preserve that which has been inherited , to leave and acknowledge legacy ..

the desire remains potent .. shared often with many .. but then it remains dormant in their thoughts and minds and unfinished attention less modes erupt ..

gravity respectability need judgement by them that can give it what it truly deserves is perhaps not readily ready .. that judgement shall be and should be of the 'me' .. I feel ..

But the hesitancy to execute it , and the desire at times merge into an abyss of unlimited depth .. and that is when time takes over and we are done .. for the moment ..

pushing a substance down your throat is a process, understood by the one feeding you .. there are many that profess that but the morsels are scarce and diffident .. assessed as an absence of desired grace and meaning ..

that shall ever be the gravitational pull of sensibility ..

works fine .. mostly does not work - disaster !

the fear of not working is immense , for when shared the feel is ever that the value of its commerce comes first in the mind of the proposer, not its intensity of the gravios ..

and that stops me in the tracks .. philosophical

do it your own sense and privacy .. do not give or share .. what you think and create, if that is what can be defined, then keep it closeted within ..

If the linked wires of the soul and the verbiage live apart in oblivion , then best to be in ONE than in the company that may have been desired or proposed .. to the OTHER ..

and the OTHER has a remarkable dissertative potential of doctorate assessment ..

It does .. seems odd and insignificant but it does .. the annals of the language say so and debrief ..

The word "other" is a linguistic prism refracting the complexities of identity, inclusion, and the nuanced interplay of differences. It serves as a vessel through which we navigate the multifaceted landscape of human experience, illuminating the myriad shades that define our relationships, perceptions, and understanding of the world. At its core, "other" denotes that which exists beyond the scope of the self or the familiar. It embodies the essence of contrast, highlighting distinctions and delineating boundaries. In societal discourse, it often assumes a role that transcends mere semantics, assuming a position of immense significance in discussions of diversity, belonging, and the fabric of human interactions. The concept of the "other" is intrinsic to our social dynamics. It molds our perspectives and influences our attitudes toward those perceived as different or dissimilar. This construct, while inherently dichotomous, blurs the lines between inclusion and exclusion, often reflecting societal norms and power structures. The "other" can be a means of fostering unity through appreciation of diversity or a tool for marginalization and alienation. One of its most profound implications lies in its ability to shape our understanding of identity. It is instrumental in the formation of self-identity, as individuals often define themselves in relation to the "other." This comparative element contributes to the tapestry of personal identity, underscoring the significance of context and interaction in shaping who we are. Moreover, the "other" extends beyond the human realm, permeating fields such as philosophy and anthropology. Philosophically, it raises questions about the nature of existence and the boundaries of perception. Anthropologically, it serves as a lens through which societies classify and understand different cultures, practices, and belief systems. In contemporary discourse, the notion of the "other" has garnered heightened attention in discussions surrounding inclusivity, equity, and social justice. Embracing the "other" involves transcending biases, dismantling stereotypes, and fostering empathy. It calls for a recognition of shared humanity while honoring the richness of diverse perspectives and experiences. However, navigating the terrain of the "other" is not devoid of challenges. It requires a conscious effort to transcend preconceived notions and embrace pluralism. Genuine understanding necessitates active engagement, empathy, and a willingness to celebrate the diverse tapestry of existence. In essence, the word "other" encapsulates a paradoxical duality – a divider and a unifier, a source of both division and enrichment. It compels us to confront the multifaceted nature of our reality, urging us to embrace the richness of diversity while acknowledging the inherent complexities within our shared human experience. Embracing the "other" opens gateways to profound insights, fostering a more inclusive and compassionate world.

😂

a reading to last you an entire weekend ..

🤣

Amitabh Bachchan

[gjenkatarot]

Tarot masterlist | Exchange readings | Paid readings

I don't have Ni-ki's exact birth time, so the analysis might not be super precise because I can't determine his ascendant or which houses each planet is in. Just to be clear, I'm not a pro astrologer, so don't take this too seriously. It's just for fun!

Ni-ki's Sun in Sagittarius reflects his love for adventure and deep contemplation about life. He's always curious and eager to learn new things, driven by a strong urge to uncover the truth about the world. However, this quest for knowledge sometimes leaves him feeling restless as he searches for deeper meanings. The 17th-degree placement of his Sun hints at a potential for fame or recognition, suggesting he possesses natural talents or charms that catch people's attention.

His Moon in Pisces reveals his caring and imaginative nature, deeply connected to his emotions and sensitive to others' feelings. Ni-ki prioritizes others' well-being over his own, ensuring everyone around him is okay. Despite his love for beauty and art, represented by his Moon at the 26th degree in Taurus, he may struggle with overwhelming emotions due to his deep sensitivity.

The square aspect between his Sun and Moon indicates an inner struggle between his desire for freedom and truth, and his need for emotional connection and understanding. This conflict often leaves him feeling conflicted about his wants and needs in life.

Ni-ki's Sun in Sagittarius in a trine aspect to Saturn in Leo at 11 degrees showcases his strong sense of self-discipline and ambition. This blend of disciplined ambition and optimism allows him to pursue his goals with determination while maintaining a sense of adventure and enthusiasm, potentially leading to success and stability, especially in areas related to self-expression and creativity.

With the Sun in Sagittarius sextile Neptune in Aquarius, Ni-ki possesses a harmonious blend of idealism, creativity, and humanitarianism. He's imaginative, intuitive, and spiritually attuned, driven by a desire to make a positive impact on the world. This aspect enhances his ability to inspire others and bring his visionary ideas into reality, finding fulfillment through activities that allow him to explore spirituality, express creativity, and contribute to society's greater good.

Ni-ki's Sun in Sagittarius in conjunction with Pluto in Sagittarius signifies a deep sense of personal power and intensity, driving him to uncover hidden truths and transform his beliefs with unwavering determination. This aspect indicates resilience and the ability to undergo profound personal growth and regeneration, potentially leading to intense periods of self-examination and identity transformation.

His Mercury in Scorpio at 26 degrees suggests a sharp mind keen on discovering psychological depths. The trine aspect between his Moon in Pisces and Mercury in Scorpio enhances his communication skills, allowing him to express himself with empathy and authenticity. Ni-ki excels in artistic or literary pursuits, channeling his deep emotions, imaginative visions, and penetrating insights into meaningful forms of expression.

Ni-ki, with Mercury in Scorpio sextile Chiron in Aquarius, possesses a natural gift for communicating with profound depth and insight, particularly concerning matters of healing and personal growth. His innate understanding of his own wounds and those of others allows him to offer guidance and support through his words and insights. Ni-ki excels in connecting with others on a deep emotional level, fostering a sense of understanding and empathy in his interactions.

Ni-ki, with Mercury in Scorpio sextile Venus in Capricorn, communicates his feelings and thoughts with intensity, sincerity, and emotional authenticity. His communication style is marked by clarity, persuasiveness, and effectiveness, fostering strong connections with others. This aspect reveals his keen understanding of relationship dynamics and an intuitive grasp of others' needs and desires. Ni-ki tends to build relationships on a foundation of mutual respect, shared goals, and a sense of responsibility, creating bonds that are both meaningful and enduring.

With his Venus in Capricorn at 26 degrees, Ni-ki values security, tradition, and long-term commitments in love. He expresses affection in a practical and grounded manner, showing love through acts of service, practical gestures, or emotional support. Despite appreciating beauty and elegance, he finds pleasure in indulging his senses while maintaining a refined aesthetic sense.

Ni-ki's Venus in Capricorn conjunct Chiron points to potential deep emotional wounds in his romantic life. This aspect signifies a journey of healing, particularly related to issues of self-worth, love, and intimacy. Ni-ki is naturally drawn to those who share similar emotional struggles, displaying a strong desire to aid in their healing and fulfilment. Creatively, he finds solace through art, music, or poetry, using these mediums to process and express emotional pain. Ni-ki may be attracted to partners who embody uniqueness and eccentricity. Such relationships play a vital role in his healing journey, allowing him to embrace his individuality and seek fulfilment through non-traditional dynamics.

The square aspect between his Moon in Pisces and Pluto in Sagittarius suggests Ni-ki may experience intense emotional reactions and deep psychological insights, potentially encountering challenges related to trust, intimacy, or sharing his deepest feelings with others. This can also bring up issues with your mother, though not always. This aspect encourages him to confront and transform deep-seated emotional patterns or fears, leading to significant personal growth and empowerment.

With the Moon in Pisces sextile Chiron in Aquarius, Ni-ki possesses a natural ability to channel his emotional sensitivity and intuition into healing, connecting with others on a profound level to offer comfort and support. This aspect suggests a draw to unconventional approaches to healing and personal growth, finding solace in expressing his authentic self in unique ways.

Ni-ki's Mars in Taurus, opposite Jupiter in Scorpio, may lead to inner conflicts between stability and security, and the urge for expansion and growth. He may struggle with balancing practicality with adventurous risk-taking, potentially experiencing excessiveness or overextension in pursuit of his goals.

With Mars in Taurus squaring Saturn in Leo, Ni-ki may face frustration and obstacles in asserting himself and pursuing his ambitions. Saturn's influence may create delays or setbacks, requiring him to cultivate patience, discipline, and persistence to overcome adversity.

Ni-ki's Mars in Taurus sextile Uranus in Pisces suggests he finds creative ways to pursue his goals, embracing unexpected changes and adjusting plans accordingly. His dynamic and energetic approach to life inspires others to embrace their uniqueness and explore new possibilities.

With Jupiter in Scorpio square Neptune in Aquarius, Ni-ki may grapple with discerning reality from fantasy, potentially experiencing disillusionment or disappointment when expectations aren't grounded in reality. However, this aspect also inspires creativity, spiritual growth, and artistic expression, encouraging him to balance dreams with grounded action.

The North Node at 11 degrees Aries indicates Ni-ki's life purpose involves taking bold initiatives and embracing new beginnings with confidence. The trine aspect between Saturn in Leo and the North Node in Aries brings stability and discipline to his journey, aligning his efforts with his soul's evolutionary path.

With Juno in Gemini opposing the Sun in Sagittarius, Ni-ki may face challenges in partnerships due to differences in beliefs or communication styles. However, the trine aspect between Juno in Gemini and Neptune in Aquarius facilitates open communication and a shared vision within relationships, fostering empathy, compassion, and understanding.

♡

[blessed1neha]

Venus in various houses

Venus in a sign symbolises our romantic and sexual desires. But in real life, a person's needs are not always met by fate.

As a result, whereas the house of Venus provides a response to the question of "where and under what circumstances will our love be born/manifested," the sign of Venus just addresses the question of "how we love."

I observe that we are currently discussing those intensely trembling emotions and not at all about marriage relationships, which are examined in other indicators.

Venus is thus in:

The first house represents your innate beauty, charm, and love of your body. gives meaning to how you look. Generally speaking, people find it appealing and it has a natural sense of tact. He requires love and respect.

The second residence requires money and material comfort. Material possessions will in some manner play a significant role in both love and life in general. a sign of financial success in the field of beauty, especially when Venus is in harmony.

The third house is characterised by ease of acquaintance, a large network of relationships, the capacity to persuade others, and extensive communication. Perhaps a love of education, a passion for travel, a love of communication, and communication.

The peaceful Venus in the fourth house suggests a happy childhood filled with love and understanding. the desire to beautify your home in order to foster a cosy and loving atmosphere. Friendliness and emotional ties to the tribal structure.

Numerous books, lovers, and flirting are associated with the fifth house. adore the emotion of love. likes to have fun and celebrate holidays. It may show signs of "burning out of life." love for young people.

Sixth house: reading books at work or with coworkers. passion for dogs and regular activities. workplace adornment. If Venus is out of harmony, there may be feminine disorders or throat ailments. Workplace issues stemming from romantic interactions with an unbalanced Venus.

The seventh house represents partnerships and marriage for love. Publicity and social acceptance. diplomatic, kind, and attractive potential spouse.

Love, the eighth house, can both create and contribute to life issues. Love can erupt under 8th house settings, like road accidents, funerals, rock concerts, and anything else that could be disastrous. Acute life events tend to bring out feelings the greatest. Triangles, suspense, and risk-taking. Sexuality is crucial.

Falling in love with teachers, philosophers, religious leaders, gurus, and outsiders is a ninth house affliction. novels read when travelling, in universities, or abroad. idealised image of a spouse.

A career through romantic relationships and romances with high-ranking individuals go under the tenth house. Women support careers (in harmony with Venus). Venusian careers include those in the arts, beauty, design, business, pleasure, and romance. career progress through the use of charm, diplomacy, and compassion.

Novels with friends, novels in a variety of public organisations, and books in communities. emotional response to political and social issues. friendly emotional ties among friends.

Twelveth house - hidden connections that are secretive and secret. They frequently keep their connections and emotions hidden. a virtual partnership. love for a distant, unreachable thing. aversion to love. fantasises about ideal love.

[thebeautysurrounds]

I’ve been thinking a lot about how people’s reactions to certain queer shows and something I think we need to examine how we treat more ‘dark’ and ‘emotional’ shows versus more ‘happy’ shows in this case I’m gonna be talking about the “debate” between Young Royals and Heartstopper.

Firstly these shows exist in two different lanes, and draw in two different audiences and potential age ranges, in my opinion, Young Royals is for older teenagers (think juniors or seniors or someone who is about to graduate high school and is going into college) while Heartstopper is geared towards those who are just starting high school or in the middle of it and is in that transitional period of their lives. Obviously, if you are not in these age ranges you can still consume and enjoy these shows, But I want to discuss how people act like they both can’t exist and you can’t like both or both shows existing for a reason. I’ve never really been a fan of punching down or belittling queer media (unless it’s harmful) Queer media in all forms is still lacking (especially those mediums centering WLW relationships). That being said the debate of which show is better is honestly so tired.

For people who say Young Royals is so much better (don’t get me wrong it is an amazing show and by all means like whatever you want) but liking it more because it’s “darker and more realistic” compared to Heartstopper which is "much happier" and "unrealistic," To me is so disingenuous because firstly so what? campy shows that feature queer characters deserve to be unrealistic, What's wrong with being unrealistic? Queer media has been subject to the Burry Your Gays narrative for decades or extremely unhealthy tropes and storylines so what's so wrong with having storylines and shows that are unrealistic or extremely happy? (even though the themes in Heartstopper are realistic).

Have you thought about how that may be an intentional choice? Now bare with me here this may be my over-analytic brain at work but Heartstopper has more or less some of the same themes as Young Royals just shot in a very vibrant and colorful manner to showcase how happy and colorful young love is BUT if you actually have watched the show or read the graphic novels you would know the show and graphic novels cover some heavy themes.

SPOILERS AFTER THIS POINT……

I want you to keep the song Pumped up Kicks by Foster the People in mind throughout this...I have a point I promise. Heartstopper is shot in a very poppy colorful way and in my opinion, symbolizes how when you’re young and in love everything feels warm, colorful, and vibrant. While Young Royals doesn't utilize this cinematic style they do use some form of vibrancy to convey tone and emotion. In Young Royals many of the scenes featuring Simon and Willhem's 'good moments' feature the sun especially shining on Simon when Willie is looking at him or whenever they are just in each other's company, this is especially prominent in the last scenes of the last two episodes of season 3.

So while people's criticisms of Heartstopper can be warranted (not saying you can't dislike the show) the comments that it's just so bubbly and bright just aren't true. The last season of Heartstopper saw multiple characters go through traumatic situations and it has been building up that way from the very first scenes in the first season of the show (but for the sake of time I'm only going to discuss both main characters in the two shows) Charlie not only is still struggling with being outed but is also battling with an eating disorder, this is foreshadowed throughout the first two seasons leading up to its inevitable blatant reveal when he is at dinner with Nick and his family where Nick starts to piece together why he is never hungry, passed out on the Paris trip and never finishes his food, which leads his to eventually research the signs of an ED. Nick is also still figuring himself out when it comes to his Bisexuality, while also dealing with the feelings of, feeling abandoned by his father, and having to reckon with the fact his brother is not supportive and dismissive of his sexuality and relationship.

Now before I said keep Pumped Up Kicks in mind that's because while this song has an upbeat, catchy tempo the song actually has a really dark undertone and meaning. So while Heartstopper is shot in a very vibrant colorway most of its characters and content of the show deal with dark themes and it's not all just a happy love story, and if the script for the next season follows the graphic novel closely, then we will see the characters go through even more challenges which also falls inline with the "darker" more emotionally message of the show. So to end this so it doesn't become a dissertation, both shows more or less have the same themes they just exist in two different lanes, I don't know why exactly people are fighting for one to be more valid than the other. When both can exist and be impactful to both or each audience, more queer shows need to exist where the characters are just happy and in love and I need y'all to unpack why you view more doom and gloom (for a lack of a better word) queer shows or movies are more valid than ones where the characters are just happy and have relatively in some aspects great experience when it comes to young love and figuring out one's identity. Sepreatlty why do you want these characters to suffer to find love? Why do characters have to go through something traumatic for their identity to be more valid and for you to relate and want to root for it more versus the latter?

Anyway, this was longer than I intended it to be but I just had to get my thoughts out there. TL;DR: Heartstopper and Young Royals are two great shows and if you think one is better than the other cause it has darker themes you are missing the point or probably objectively missed the dark undertones of the show, and one isn't more valuable than the other.