#but otherwise she's stayed mostly the same

[tittiesnhrtz]

ghostface!ellie x reader

ᥫ᭡ 18+, minors and men dni , fingering, cunnilingus, knife play, nipple play, overstim

it's a chilly october night, the leaves are still vibrant with autumn hues outside your window. a crisp breeze weaves through the trees outside, sending a gentle rustle through the branches. the faint scent of vanilla, pumpkin spice and cinnamon hangs in the air inside your home, wrapping all the furniture and the trinkets like a shroud. you’re sitting on your sage couch, wrapped in a cozy crocheted sweater, wearing loose shorts and leg warmers to keep your feet warm on the cold tiles beneath you. your parents are away for a few days at your grandma's, with her health getting worse, it's been hard for her to take care of herself.

the glow from the TV feels distant now, the reporter’s voice filling the otherwise silent room. it’s the same grim news cycle: more bodies found, more gruesome and grotesque details of the dead bodies that should make your skin crawl and erupt with goosebumps. but honestly? you’re just tired. tired of the stories and the police coming up empty.

two of your friends from your friend group are dead, and what'd they have in common? you dated them both at some point. this detail shouldn't probably be necessary or even worth dwelling on, but considering how almost everyone who's either flirted with you or gone on a date with you has no doubt ended up dead—killed by the infamous ghostface himself.

yes, a him. that's what mostly everyone believes but you're somehow sure it's not a man. the way ghostface toys with his victims, the blackmail and emotional mind games—it all feels too calculated, too clever to be the work of a man. not that you think men are stupid, but something about this whole situation just feels... off.

the sound of the doorbell jolts you out of your thoughts. ellie, your best friend, is supposed to be here any minute. she's been your rock through the whole ghostface ordeal. and you think you might be catching feelings for her. her stupid puns and that goofy smile plastered on her face whenever she'd talk about space, dinosaurs, comic books or anything that interested her really, got to you at some point.

with a sigh, you push yourself off the cozy couch, and shuffle over to the door. but when you swing it open, what should've been ellie on the other side is just empty air. that’s strange. you step outside, scanning the porch and the yard, half-expecting to see some kids laughing at their ding-dong ditch prank. instead, you’re hit with a chill as a dark figure catches your eye. a ghostface mask. your heart drops. but before you can even process what you just saw, it vanishes into the shadows.

you stumble back inside and lock the door, but then you hear it—a crash from the kitchen. a china dish smashing to the floor. fuck, what if this is it? what if you’re ghostface’s next target? with a tentative breath, you step inside the kitchen, holding a lamp, ready to strike. except, it's not ghostface, it's just ellie, standing there with a sheepish smile on her face.

"fuck- i thought you were-" you start, your voice trailing off as the memory of the figure outside flashes in your mind.

"i'm sorry, jus' thought i'd surprise you and come in through the back." she explains, motioning toward the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar. "you should seriously learn to lock your doors."

her gaze then drops to the shards scattered across the kitchen floor, the delicate china dish now a jumbled mess of white and pastel blooms. "sorry 'bout that." she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck.

you let out a breath, feeling a mix of relief and irritation. lowering the lamp, you speak. "next time, just ring the doorbell?”

ellie grins. "yeah, sorry."

"whatever, just help me clean this mess." you motion to the mess on the white and black kitchen tiles.

"yep."

you can't stay mad at ellie and it's not the first time she's done something stupid like this.

𓍯𓂃

after what felt like an eternity of cleaning up the mess, you and ellie finally collapse onto your bed, grateful for the distraction of a movie. the small TV on the cabinet across the room flickers to life, and the eerie sounds of SAW I fill the space. you can feel ellie’s presence beside you—she’s sitting awfully close, her warmth radiating against your side. you steal a glance at her, and to your surprise, you catch her gulping, almost instinctively, not once, but three times already. though you're not sure if it's because of the proximity or the gore-y scenes displaying on the screen.

“not a fan of gore movies?”

she chuckles nervously, her eyes glued to the screen. “not exactly in love with the idea of people torturing each other.”  a hint of laughter in her voice, but you can sense something else underneath. something you pass off as anxiety.

you turn your attention back to the movie, but it’s hard to concentrate when you can feel the heat radiating from her. the scene on the screen darkens, and the tension builds as the characters navigate their terrifying predicament. you can’t help but steal another glance at ellie, who’s now looking directly at you.

the characters on the screen scream in despair, but you hardly register it. instead, your focus is drawn to the way her tongue glides over her plump pink lips. and god you want to kiss her badly, to taste the sweetness of her lips.

you don't miss the way her eyes dart down to your lips or the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. you take a breath, steeling yourself, and decide to be bold. you lean in slightly, heart pounding as you gauge her reaction. the air is tense, and you can see her breath hitch, taking that as an invitation, you close the gap.

her lips are slightly cracked but surprisingly soft. she makes a noise against your lips, hands gliding up to rest against your hips, but then they slowly start to wander. under your sweater, from your hips to your waist. ellie can’t help how warm her hands feel against your skin, how smooth, there’s not even callouses on them like hers. the kiss is a bit hungry and impatient, her tongue licking the seam of your lips. your hands move from your lap to cup her face as you part your lips.

the unexpected warmth of her tongue against your cheek sends a shiver down your spine, silencing the whirlwind of thoughts that had been racing through your mind. it’s a ticklish sensation, one that catches you off guard. you let out a small gasp which is muffled into her mouth. ellie continues to explore, her tongue tracing the soft contours of your cheek as if she’s savoring every little bump and curve. there’s a clumsiness to it, an awkwardness that feels endearing rather than off-putting.

when you pull away, a delicate string of saliva connects your lips. your cheeks heat up as you notice the drool glistening in her chin, a sight that is enough to make your panties wet. you lean in and lick the drool off of her, and you can feel her tense up, her hands on your waist squeezing gently. the only source of light is from the TV, and it casts shadows over both of your bodies, the screen and the voices of the characters now completely forgotten. you can feel her hands move from your waist and she’s suddenly cupping your breasts over your bra.

“is this okay?” her thumb traces circles over the soft mounds, staring at you for an answer.

you nod in return and help her remove your sweater and your bra, tossing it somewhere in the darkness. her gaze flicks down to your breasts and for awhile, she just stares. and then a quiet curse follows. her hands move to knead your breasts, watching the skin closely. then, she takes a nipple between her fingers and gently pinches it, watching your every reaction. her mouth latches onto your other breast, her tongue darting out to swirl around it and suck the hardened nub as she pleases, the soft symphony of your quiet noises echoing in the night.

you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into her mouth. she alternates between both of them, giving them both equal attention. her mouth goes dry and she has to pull away with a pop, her green eyes searching your own.

“i wanna feel you.”

her breath hitches and before she knows it, your hands are on the waist band of her jeans, fingers looping into her brown belt. her eyes darken with desire as she looks at you.

“yeah, baby?” she exhales.

the nickname makes your cunt tighten around nothing and you're hastily unbuckling her belt and tossing it away. your fingers work to unbutton her jeans and you slip a hand inside. she lets out a gentle groan as your teeth bite into the flesh of her neck. you leave a series of bruising kisses in their wake as your palm comes into contact with her boxers. to your surprise, she's soaking wet. you almost want to tease her but your desire prevails over it and you're slipping your fingers into her boxers, tracing her slick folds. she's making the prettiest noises too, already falling apart under your touch. but little did you know, she's spent years dreaming of this moment. paintings and drawings of you hidden under her bed, along with the candid pictures that she oh so eagerly waits to get off to every night.

"say you want me."

her breathing is unsteady as she opens her mouth to speak. "fuck." she grunts softly and leans her head into your shoulder. "i want you, baby. please."

her pathetic begging and whines are enough for you to give in, her cunt throbbing as your fingers rub her slick along it. it greedily sucks in your digit as you slowly add it. she feels ecstatic because this isn't a dream anymore, it's real. you add another digit, eliciting a pornographic moan from her. it isn't long until your fingers are curling around her g-spot and her walls are squelching around them.

""m close..s-so close."

"i know. just cum for me, yeah?" you coo into her ear before nipping at the skin just below her ear. and she does exactly that, letting out a strangled sob as her body gets the release she's been chasing for. you take your fingers out of her boxers and suck them clean. ellie still has her eyes shut and her head against your shoulder but she can hear the way your mouth wraps around your fingers and sucks her juices off. she's pulling away and looking at you.

and then, she's guiding you down to lay on the bed, lifting your hips up to remove your shorts until you're splayed in just your cotton panties and leg warmers in front of her. she almost moans at the sight.

"you're so-" she starts, but cuts herself off. leaning down to hover over you and planting a kiss on your temple, on your cheek and one on your collarbone. one of her hands starts rubbing the inside of your thigh as she leans in and kisses you, sloppily. her hand comes to rub your clothed cunt and you feel her muffled moan inside your mouth, as you swallow the noise. she pulls back to look down at you.

"look how wet." she smirks and you almost regret not teasing her about her own drenched underwear.

you can only whimper and lift your hips up in return as her hands hook under the waistband of your underwear and pull it off of you.

"god, so gorgeous and so wet....all for me." she murmurs, more to herself than you. her pupils are blown wide, lips parted as she moves your legs up and pushes them apart. your hands find purchase on her ass beneath her flannel as she mouths at the skin of your neck like it's her hobby. as you squeeze her jeans-clothed ass, you swear you feel an outline of something resembling a... knife. in her back pocket. you take the object out and it's indeed a knife. ellie was in a daze to notice or feel what you were doing— to busy enjoying your skin after only having imagined what it must have felt like in her dreams. your voice, however, causes her to look up from your neck. you dangle the knife in front of her.

"..why do you have a knife?"

her eyes widen a fraction before she smirks and takes the knife from you. "protection. why else?" she answers like you were dumb to even ask the question in the first place. “don’t wanna risk getting killed with ghostface on the loose.”

a pause. "but...it could come handy for other things." she glides the knife down your clavicle to your breasts, the hitching of your breath only serving to encourage her. she presses it down against one of your nipples before moving it lower— where you're aching for her the most.

the cold blade presses against your puffy clit and you moan loudly. "ellie..."

"shh." she coos, grinning down at you, almost sinisterly. she pushes it further against the bundle of nerves, making you whimper. "i need-" she cuts you off by lining the knife along your delicate entrance, you let out a cry and your eyes widen in fear and shock. she seems to notice it and pulls the knife away, but not before gliding it up and down your folds.

"i'm not gonna hurt you, baby." the words roll of her tongue like honey and you feel bad for fearing her in the first place. she places the knife beside you on the sheets and moves to place herself in between your legs. a couple of kisses to your clit before she's greedily licking at your pussy. tongue moving at a relentless pace against your clit as her hands come up to grope your tits. moans fall out of your lips like a prayer and she pushes her tongue inside your cunt before pulling back and lapping away at your juices. you're awfully close and she knows it, she can sense it by the way you're arching your back and gripping the sheets, your knuckles almost white.

"cum on my face, pretty girl." her words vibrate against your clit, causing you to moan out her name.

that elicits a moan from ellie, herself. something stirs in her, hearing you moan her name out like that. and she inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt. curling them graciously against your g-spot, hitting it over and over again as her mouth does the same to your clit.

"ellie..i can't..fuck-" your final cry of pleasure, reverberates through her body. she removes her fingers but keeps lapping at your pussy even after you cum. your weak cries do nothing to pull her away. her grip on your thighs tighten and she pushes them apart from closing. you squirm and squeak due to the overstimulation, nudging her away with all your force, but it's too weak. she doesn't seem too keen on stopping, a hand pushing down on your stomach to stop you from squirming.

"s-stop." it isn't until that word comes out of your mouth that she stops and pulls away to look at your wrecked form. cheeks flush and hair tousled. you don't know how much it affects her. you never do.

"sorry, got too carried away." she murmurs. but she's anything but sorry. after helping you lay your head down on the pillow, she pulls the covers up your body. she can tell she's tired you out by the way your eyes are half lidded and your limbs look sore. she soothes you by wrapping her arms around you, intertwining your hands, and placing a kiss on your forehead. eventually, you drift asleep.

the longer she looks at you, the world outside fades further into obscurity. you, who's sleeping blissfully, completely unaware of the fact that the knife that was pressing against your clit a few minutes ago was the same knife that she used to brutally stab and dismember the body of a classmate who dared flirt with you. you, who's probably having sweet dreams while she has to go and take care of the unconscious body of the guy who rang your doorbell this very night.

this is my first time writing smut or anything close to a fan fic!! so if you see any mistakes js ignore it :3

[dullgecko]

Fabian’s gonna freak the F out when Sklonda shows them Riz baby pics “What do you mean the ball was ever an actual infant!”

He then explains about how he thought goblins were born fully formed or grown like plants or something (sorry I can’t remember what u said exactly in the ask) and Sklonda seriously and with actual concern ask Fabian if he knows where babies come from and if his parents ever gave him ‘the talk’.

Also I was thinking about baby goblins being irresistibly cute and how not a lot of people having seen them; while as their instincts told them to sklonda and pok did keep Riz mostly safely hidden away as a baby but there were times they had to for whatever reason take him out and Riz even then was a curious little guy constantly poking his head out to see the world out of whatever bundle he was in unlike most shy goblin kits.

Goblins are normally notwell liked by other species so sklonda and pok were pretty sure a baby goblin would receive the same treatment.

To their surprise it was the opposite problem, everyone found baby Riz adorable and often overstepped boundaries and personal space, treating him more like an exotic pet than an actual baby.

This all accumulates one day day when a complete stranger goes to grab and hold Riz but before they can either/both sklonda and pok are hissing and growling calling the person a number goblin swear words as they’ve backed up a safe distance away while shielding an overwhelmed stressed out Riz.

Honestly it’s lucky the stranger was noticed before they could actually touch Riz, otherwise they would have learnt from personal experience how much damage a goblins teeth and claws can actually do.

Xx

"What the fuck, he was an actual infant at some point? I thought they were grown like plants." Fabian muttered, squinting his eye at the array of pictures Sklonda had pulled from the photo album. The statement earning an amused snort from Fig who was also sitting at the table perusing the stack, occasionally snapping photos of the cuter ones to add to her personal collection. The rest of their party had left to go procure some lunch, given that they seemed to be staying there for the whole day while Riz tried to sleep off his fever.

He'd picked one of the photos up to look at it closer, flipping it over to see the date on the back since Riz was clearly eating birthday cake in the photo and making a mental note of it for later. Riz tended to be very cagey with personal details about himself so all they'd managed to work out so far was the month of his birthday, now they could actually nail down a specific day.

He jumped slightly when Sklonda put a concerned hand on his arm after the comment, lowering her voice and patting it in a way that was entirely too sincere for his likeing.

"Aw honey, did.... has no one told you were babies come from? I mean, I know your mom is a bit uhhhh-" She waved a hand near her head to indicate the general vagueness that Halarial tended to exist in "-but i thought you would have found out by now. If you have any questions just let me know okay?"

Fabian sputtered, face going red as he sat up straighter in his chair. "What? No of course I know where babies come from. Evidently not goblin babies but you know... the rest."

He waved his hand towards the window before pushing his chair back and standing, heading over to his schoolbag to dig out a book he'd clearly borrowed from the library. "I asked Riz and he said he was never an infant, and i mean the book corroborated his story so i believed him."

Fabian flipped through a few pages, finding one titled GOBLIN in all capital letters and placing it down on the table. "See, there. It says so right there."

Fig leaned across the table to read what Fabian was pointing at, wincing and lifting up the book so she could read the title on the front page. "Dude this is a monster encyclopedia.... from like, fifty years ago."

"Well, i mean, i couldnt find anything else talking about goblin children. This is the only thing that even mentioned them." Fabian floundered, going even redder when Sklonda laughed as she read through the wildly incorrect information before shutting the book and handing it back.

"Oh honey no. They're made like any other baby, more or less, our anatomy is a little different than humanoids but its still the same process. If you're that curious i'm sure i have a pamphlet around here somewhere." Sklonda had to wipe a tear from her eye from laughing so hard "Though I can understand the confusion. You've probably never even seen a kit before. They're so small we try to keep them indoors or hidden out of sight in public because a random seagull could snatch them up. Or people. Gods Riz was so cute as a toddler people were constantly trying to pick him up."

"I mean we still pick him up all the time." Fig snickered, Fabian having sat back down in his chair with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest to pout.

"Yes I'm aware. It was worse when he was little though. Despite my efforts to keep him hidden he just wanted to run around and look at everything." She dug through the album, finding a picture of Riz perched on top of one of the wooden horses on a spring down at the local park. Pok hovering nervously behind him with his hands outstretched just in case he fell.

"We also used to take him to the library a lot but got banned when one of the other parents in the reading room tried to pick Riz up. Pok made a bit of a mess of the floor when he grabbed their wrist to stop them and we got banned."

[thisisbecausepolyvoreclosed]

First look for Janira Fabel in From Now On, an alternate universe story on Wolf In Sheep’s clothing and my friend’s fanfic, True Defender.

[drysauce]

fuck this shit i'm NOT working this summer

[icedteaandoldlace]

Wow, I really am the biggest animal lover in this family. Not that that's anything new, but you'd think someone would be interested in trying harder to keep these kittens alive.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

12 hour road trip tomorrow stuck in the car one on one with my mum. i already do not really want to go but this could provide another layer of psychic damage

[girlgenius1111]

casts, broken arms, & snuggles

alexia putellas x reader - part of the mila verse :)

an accident at the park pulls alexia from training and to the hospital, where she finds both her girls not doing their best. everyone is very overwhelmed with their feelings, and maybe don't handle it the way they should. basically, protective panicked alexia and insecure reader. a bit of angst / injuries / concussions symptoms, mostly fluff.

------

You knew Alexia would panic. There wasn’t much you could do about that. Especially not when the only way you had to reach her was through the staff. It was somewhat of a bad omen within the team, having a staff member walk outside with a phone call for you. It only happened in an emergency, and unfortunately, this definitely counted as an emergency. When one of the assistant coaches, Xavi, answered the phone, he seemed to be on the same page as you. 

“Try to act calm, otherwise she’ll just freak out.” 

“I am not sure there is much I can do to avoid her having a nervous breakdown.” Xavi stated. You heard him call Alexia over, and tried to shush the very upset almost 3 year old in your arms. 

“Amor, what is wrong?”Alexia asked, practically tearing the phone out of Xavi’s hand as soon as she heard who was calling. 

“Everything is fine, okay? There was just a little accident.” You began, speaking in a soothing, calming tone, the same one you’d been using on the baby. 

“What kind of accident?” 

“Meels fell at the park-” 

“¡AY DIOS MIO!” Alexia shouted. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Ale, breathe. She fell off the slide and I think her arm might be broken. She won’t let me touch it and she hasn’t stopped crying.”

“Broken?!” Alexia squeaked. 

“Ow.” Mila whimpered, frowning unhappily at her arm from where she sat in your lap. “Hurts, Mama.” 

“I know, baby.” You told her. “Ale, the ambulance is here to take us to the hospital do you-” 

“What were you doing? Were you not watching her? Why weren't you watching her, why did she fall?” Alexia snapped. 

You bit back the retort you had ready, knowing this was just a result of her fear for Mila. You weren’t happy with what she’d said, but that could be dealt with later. “We’re leaving now for the hospital. Meet us there.” You said coldly, before hanging up the phone without saying anything else. Alright, you were pretty upset, and you let it show. You had already been beating yourself up for what had happened, thinking the things that Alexia had said. 

As you and Mila got loaded into the ambulance, you realized you hadn’t mentioned something important to your wife. No doubt, she was hauling ass to the hospital, so she’d find out soon enough.

-------

Alexia burst into the room in a flutter of chaos, throwing the curtain aside and looking around frantically. Mila was sitting in your lap, holding her arm awkwardly away from her body, while you ran your fingers through her wavy brown hair and tried to keep her calm. Both of you looked at Alexia when she walked in, her panic clear on her face. She was sweaty, still in her training kit, and her eyes were only on her daughter.

“Mila, mi bebé,” she said gently, moving closer to the bed. 

“Mami!” Mila cried, a pout on her small face, holding her arm out for Alexia to see. She squirmed in your lap, trying to get closer to your wife, but you both made sure she stayed carefully where she was. 

“Pobrecita,” Alexia murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing repeated kisses to her baby’s head. She stared hard at Mila’s already swollen arm, trying to stifle her own tears. You weren’t pleased with Alexia, but you weren’t particularly upset that she hadn’t even glanced at you, her attention fully on Mila. “What happened?” 

Mila’s voice wobbled as she began to talk, reaching out with her good hand to grip onto a few of Alexia’s fingers.. “Fell! Off the slide. Mama tried to catch me, but now she has an ouchie too.” 

Alexia’s eyes flew to you, seeing for the first time the towel and large ice pack pressed to the back of your head. Her heart sank. She knew before that she would have to apologize for what she had said, and now she knew she’d have to do even more groveling. Especially if the hurt look on your face was any indication. 

“Amor,” she sighed, reaching for your hand. You pulled it away, refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“I’m fine.” You dismissed. “Mila’s got a basic fracture, just a month or so in a cast to fix it. They’ll be in to put it on soon.” 

“Mama needs stitches.” Mila whispered conspiratorially to her Mami. 

Alexia’s face grew, somehow, even more upset. “What happened, mi amor?” 

Still avoiding her eyes, you spoke quietly. “I was going to catch her at the bottom of the slide, but she stood up at the top and fell off the side.” 

“And your head?” Alexia asked, leaning closer to try and inspect your injury. Mila looked up at you with concern, her expression matching her Mami’s almost exactly. Where Alexia’s fingers were gentle as they cradled your head, Mila’s were clumsy and clunky as she tried to run her fingers through your hair. It was something you did to make her feel better, and she thought that maybe it would make your frown go away, too. 

“I tried to catch her in time, but I slipped and hit my head on the edge of the slide. And I didn’t really catch her.” You admitted, slightly embarrassed at that fact. Alexia would have caught Mila, you were sure. 

“It’s okay, Mama, you tried your best!” Mila said encouragingly, parroting back something you and Alexia must have told her a hundred times. Her arm temporarily forgotten, Mila shifted so she could lean up and press a kiss to your cheek, before she snuggled closer to your chest. 

Your wife’s eyes were stuck on your daughter, practically turning into hearts as she took in how sweet and caring her baby was. You couldn’t blame her; you felt the same. That you had created such a perfect little person would never cease to amaze you. 

“Thank you, my baby.” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you shifted, trying to keep Mila’s arm in a safe position. Every movement of your upper body sent waves of pain through your head, but you didn’t want Mila to know how upset you were. 

“Mi amor, I-”

Whatever Alexia was about to say was cut off completely as the doctor entered the room, introducing herself to your wife, and beginning to talk Mila through the process of getting the cast put on. There were some tears, wiped away quickly by her Mami, as they began to wrap up her arm. 

Once the nurses had taken over, and began adding the colored plaster to the cast, and Mila was suitably distracted, the doctor regarded you. 

“Alright, let’s get that head wound taken care of.” She said kindly, motioning you over to a chair in the corner of the room. She stood by your head, beginning to clean the wound and prepare to stitch it up.

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to keep your wincing to a minimum. Alexia watched on worriedly from her spot next to Mila, knowing how much you hated needles. The midfielder so wanted to comfort you through this, but she also didn’t want to leave Mila alone if she was still upset. So, she did what you’d spent many years helping her do, and communicated. 

“Milabear? Can I go hold your Mama’s hand while she gets her stitches?” She whispered, heart melting at how Mila looked over at you, and nodded enthusiastically. 

“Go help Mama.” She said bravely, feeling much better now that she had her red cast on her arm, and that the nurse had given her some goldfish. Mila munched away happily, her eyes trained on the TV hanging on the wall, and Alexia had never been more grateful for having such an independent and resilient child than she was in that moment. 

Your eyes were still shut, a few tears escaping as you tried very hard to act like the adult you were. You startled a bit when Alexia crouched in front of you and took your hand. Opening your eyes, you tried to breathe deeply, feeling the doctor begin to thread the needle through the skin of your scalp. A small, rather pathetic whimper fell from your lips, and Alexia brought your hand to her lips, pressing kisses to the back of it. Her adoring gaze only made more tears fall, and you felt completely ridiculous. 

“You are okay, amor. It will be over soon.” 

Every tear that fell was gently swiped away by your wife. The doctor worked as carefully as she could, but there were still tugs on your skin that had shivers running down your spine, and your stomach churning. There was only so much Alexia could do to help, but luckily, it wasn’t a very large wound, and the doctor was done within a few minutes, cutting the excess thread and reaching for a white bandage. She wrapped that around your head, holding a piece of gauze in place, which really felt like overkill. 

“Okay, done.” The doctor announced, removing her gloves and stepping away from your chair. Alexia’s earlier words forgotten, you stood shakily to your feet, allowing yourself to fall into your wife’s open arms. 

“You did so good.” She whispered, smiling despite herself at the bandage wrapped around your head. You looked adorable, frowning up at her with tears in your eyes, looking somewhat like a disgruntled mummy. 

“Mama?” Mila called from her spot on the bed. 

You wiped at your eyes quickly, plastering a smile on your face as you walked over to your daughter. “Hi Meels.” 

“All better, Mama?” She asked, reaching both of her arms out for you to pick her up, which you did easily.

“All better.” You confirmed, holding her as close as you could. 

“Almost all better.” The doctor smiled, turning to your wife. “She has a mild concussion with the impact on the ground, so she’s going to need to take it easy for a few days. I am assuming you know concussion protocol, Ms. Putellas?” 

“Yes, yes of course.” Alexia said, her eyes squinting with concern as she studied you. “I will take good care of her.” 

“Me too!” Mila added, squirming in your hold until she could loop her arms around Alexia’s neck and shift over into her arms. 

Your wife very hesitantly pulled you into her as the doctor left the room. You tilted your head to make eye contact with her, still with a small frown on your face. It was clear that you were still upset with your wife, but the determination in her eyes told you she’d do anything to fix it. 

------

Apparently, anything consisted of making you sit on the couch next to Mila, holding an ice pack to your head, and not daring to move. Your wife went from room to room, collecting anything she had determined you or Mila might need. It was endearing, but also somewhat frustrating when she’d appear to hand you something, and go flitting off before you could just ask her for what you really wanted: for her to sit on the couch with the two of you, and relax. 

Stressed Alexia made you stressed, but you knew this was just how she was coping with what had happened today. Alexia always held a lot of guilt for the little moments she missed while at work; any milestone that Mila achieved while Alexia wasn’t around was downright painful for your wife. She was a protective person, and you knew she was even more bothered because both you and Mila were hurt, and she hadn’t been there to help either of you. 

You and Mila sat side by side, heads moving back and forth like you were watching a tennis match. In fact, you were just watching Alexia disappear and reappear with Mila’s favorite toy, a blanket, your favorite sweatshirt, a snack, some water, more ice, more painkillers and 6 different pillows for Mila to rest her cast on. You were exhausted just watching her. 

She appeared back in the living room like a ghost the minute you stood up, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders and gently pushing you back down onto the couch. 

“Ale, just let me-”

“No! Sit.” Alexia insisted, ignoring the small giggle from her daughter. 

You rolled your eyes, shrugging out from under her grip and standing anyway. “Alexia, I have to go to the bathroom. You can’t do that for me.” 

Alexia had the decency to blush, at least. “Okay. I’ll walk you there.” She decided, grabbing your hand and beginning to escort you to the bathroom. Honestly. 

Always her mother’s shadow, Mila got up too, and grabbed your other hand. “Mami I can-”

“No. Sit!” Alexia repeated, though with a small smile as she regarded her daughter. “Mila, you stay there. I can take care of everything.” 

“But Mami-”

“No! I can help Mama, you need to rest.” Your wife said, ignoring the amused look you were giving her, too focused on the attitude suddenly radiating off your daughter. 

“Mami. I have to go potty too.” Mila said exasperatedly. Ale blushed further, nodding as she allowed Mila to accompany you both towards the bathroom. You turned your snort of laughter into a fake cough, knowing that Alexia could be sensitive to being teased about her over protectiveness. And, well… it seemed Mila was holding her own in showing her Mami how ridiculous she was being. 

Once you’d arrived at the bathroom door, which took significantly longer than was necessary due to your wife and her mini-me insisting on walking slowly so as to not aggravate your head wound. You indulged them, only putting your foot down when both of them began to follow you into the bathroom. 

“No. Enough. I can do this myself.” You sighed, looking between both Alexia and Mila’s skeptical expressions. 

“But what if-”

“Mama, I can-”

You interrupted both of them by shutting the door and letting out a deep sigh. If you didn’t have a scar across your abdomen that told you that you’d birthed Mila, you’d be sure she was Alexia’s genetic clone. 

------

The rest of the night consisted of overwhelming amounts of hovering, from your wife and daughter both. Alexia took turns fussing over you, and fussing over Mila, until you were sure you were going to make her sleep on the couch or something, before she suggested waking you up every 20 minutes and performing a cognitive test. 

Alexia had just barely put Mila down in her toddler bed when she heard you call for her. There was urgency in your voice, but it was still obvious that you were trying to keep your voice down for Mila’s benefit. It had been hard enough to get the toddler to sleep; she had become suddenly very tearful once it was time for bed, because her favorite pajama shirt didn’t fit over her cast. It had taken one of Alexia’s t-shirts, around 45 minutes of cuddles, and 4 different stories, for her to finally settle. 

“Alexia,” you whisper yelled, shutting your eyes as the dizziness got worse. You heard Alexia rush down the hall towards you and willed yourself to hold on just a moment longer. 

Alexia ran into the room, seeing you with your head in your hands, sitting up in the bed. “What is it, amor?” 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you managed, pressing a hand to your mouth as Alexia sprung into action. 

“Okay, okay, just hold on one second.” 

Just in time, Alexia thrust the bedroom trash can in front of you. You were sick, retching into the trash can uncomfortably. Your wife pulled your hair back, being careful to not jostle the skin around your stitches, tying it into a very loose bun. She rubbed your back soothingly, pressing kisses into the side of your head until you were done. 

“Oh, amor, I am so sorry.” She murmured, taking the trash can from you once you were done. She was going to take it out of the room, but then she noticed the tears in your eyes, and decided that could wait until later. 

You curled into her when she sat by your legs and pulled you into her arms. Within a second, you were sobbing brokenly into her shirt, incapable of resisting how comforted you felt when she held you. 

Alexia whispered soft reassurances into your hair, beginning to think you were upset about more than just feeling so unwell. “Amor, is it your head? Or something else?” 

You shook your head weakly into her chest, sucking in a few breaths before you tried to respond. “Meels broke her arm and it’s all my fault.” You said miserably. 

“No no no, do not say that. It was not your fault, you did the best you could.” Alexia rushed to make you feel better, but that’s all it felt like; something she was saying just to make you feel better.

“You would have caught her.” 

Alexia’s chest squeezed uncomfortably, knowing that she was partially at fault for how guilty you felt right now. Even if what she’d said had been in the heat of the moment, and it was just a reflection of how upset she was, of course you’d taken it to heart. 

“It was an accident, mi amor. It is no one’s fault. Sometimes kids fall, sometimes they get hurt. It happens.”

“But Ale, it wouldn’t have happened if you had been with her. You’re just… so much better at this than I am.” You mumbled, refusing to untuck your face from Alexia’s shirt, even as she tried to get you to. 

“That is so not true.” Alexia insisted. “You cracked your head open trying to make sure Mila didn’t get hurt. That is not something a bad mother does.” 

You ignored her logic, wiping a tear away with that back of your hand. “You were right earlier. I should have been watching closer.”

Alexia shook her head again. “No. I was-“

“You blamed me then, what’s changed?” You snapped, not quite sure where all of these negative emotions were coming from, or why your mood was changing at the drop of a hat. Sad and guilty one second, angry the next. It wasn’t fair to Alexia, who was just trying to make you feel better, but there wasn’t any room for rationality in your jumbled head. 

Luckily, your wife didn’t seem to take your words or your tone personally. Instead, she tucked a piece of hair back behind your ear and softly kissed your forehead, showing more patience than you were sure you deserved.

“I don’t blame you. I was terrified earlier, but that is no excuse. This was not your fault and I’m sorry I made you feel like it was. So sorry, amor.” Her voice was sweet and you could feel how sincere she was, just from the way her hand gently cradled your cheek. 

Nodding shakily, you took a deep breath, suddenly feeling more than a little exhausted. “I’m sorry, Ale, I just-”

Alexia cut you off, though, placing her index finger over your lips. She looked stern again, like she had before when she was making sure you stayed on the couch and didn’t move. “It’s okay. No apologies. You are overwhelmed and hurt and exhausted. You need rest, we can talk about this more tomorrow if we need to.” 

You nodded your agreement, shifting uncomfortably as you glared down at your pillows. Your head absolutely throbbed, and you hadn’t even tried to rest it on the pillow yet. 

“I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep.” You mumbled, brow furrowing in confusion when Alexia smiled cheekily at you.

“I do!” She said enthusiastically, quickly tucking herself under the covers and pulling you to lay on her chest. Your head was completely safe from any contact with anything, and you found so much peace in the steady thump of Alexia’s heartbeat in your ear. 

She was a miracle worker, Alexia. Just when you thought you were going to explode with the amount of thoughts swirling around in your head, she quieted your brain with a few words and a few kisses. 

Unfortunately, as comfortable as you were, sleep did not seem to be in the cards for either of you. At least, not yet. No sooner than your eyes had fallen shut, and Alexia had settled comfortably into the pillows did you both hear the creak of Mila’s door opening. 

You exchanged a glance with your wife, keeping completely silent, knowing that sometimes Mila would come check on you both during the night, before heading back to her room. You heard her little steps padding down the hall, a small gasp, and then a loud thump. 

Alexia was out of bed before Mila could even cry out. “Stay there!” She threw over her shoulder, causing you to sit back down on the bed with a grumble. You were glad Alexia hadn’t turned the light off earlier, as she sprinted carelessly out of the room towards your daughter. 

“Mama!” Mila sobbed, her little voice breaking your heart. She wanted you, and it took everything in you to not go to her in that moment, knowing that Alexia would bring her to you. 

“It’s okay, cariño, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, Mila’s cries becoming muffled by her Mami’s shirt. 

Still, you could make out her next words very clearly. “I want Mama,” Mila demanded. 

Alexia just shushed her, a few seconds passing before they both appeared in the doorway. Mila’s face was red and stained with tears, her cast cradled to her chest. She reached for you as soon as she saw you, and Alexia wasted no time in bringing her over. 

“Careful, Milabear,” she reminded softly, handing the toddler over to you. Mila curled up against your chest, and you rubbed her back soothingly, exchanging a worried glance with your wife. 

Mila was a rough and tumble kid; she fell often, and really only cried if she was actually hurt. Sometimes, not even then. She was like her Mami in that way, so her inconsolable tears now terrified you. 

“I think she tripped over my shirt.” Alexia murmured, running her hands through her daughter’s hair. Dressed in one of Alexia’s old warm up shirts, Mila surely had tripped over the hem of it. You could see this information really sinking into your wife’s head, as she began to gnaw on her bottom lip, worry and guilt clouding her face.  

“Baby, did you trip?” You asked, easing Mila away from your body so you could get a good look at her face. She nodded, looking between you and your wife, her bottom lip jutting out adorably. 

“Woke up and my arm hurt, and I wanted to sleep in here but I couldn’t see and I fell.” Mila said. “Mama’s shirt is too big.” She continued forlornly, as if just now realizing this piece of information. 

Alexia looked truly distressed, opening her mouth to apologize for allowing Mila to sleep in her shirt, even though you knew the toddler had cried and cried until Alexia had finally given in to what she wanted, if only so she could sleep. You spoke before Alexia could, though, pushing a lock of hair out of your baby’s face. 

“Did you bump your arm when you fell?” You asked. Mila nodded, sniffling sadly. “Does it hurt a lot more or just a little bit more?” 

“A lot at first. Just a little bit now.” Mila said bravely, peeking at her Mami out of the corner of her eye. She loved to act tough, your little girl, but she was only three, and broken bones hurt. 

Alexia still hovered on your side of the bed, looking like she wanted to cry. 

“Alright, Mami will go get you some ice, and you can sleep in here with us tonight. Deal?” 

Mila nodded, flopping forward again to rest on your chest. The fact that her mood didn’t even really lift when you told her she could sleep with the two of you told you that she was really hurting. 

Without a word, only a soft kiss placed on Mila’s forehead, Alexia headed for the freezer. She walked calmly out of the room, but both you and Mila heard the unmistakable sound of her running her way to the kitchen, and running back. 

“Mami’s running.” Mila said, a small smile adorning her face. You laughed quietly, doing your best to keep your smile in check as Alexia slowed to a walk just before walking through the bedroom door, acting as though she’d walked the whole way. 

The blonde had returned with the biggest ice pack you had, the one that she’d used on her knee. She wrapped it meticulously around Mila’s arm, handed her a small sippy cup [of what looked suspiciously like juice, even though Mila was only supposed to have water this late at night], and some children’s pain medicine. 

It was only when Alexia slipped back into bed that she spoke, addressing her daughter with a deep sadness in her voice. “I’m sorry about your shirt, cariño, I shouldn’t have let you wear it.” 

Mila gave her a strange look, scooting out of your lap to lay directly on top of your wife. Her little fingers grabbed onto her Mami’s shirt, even the one’s restrained by her cast twisting into the fabric. “It’s okay, Mami. Was an accident.” 

You smiled at your girls, watching Alexia’s face melt from guilt into adoration as she leaned down to kiss all over Mila’s face. Your daughter giggled, and your heart soared at the sound, more than happy that she had stopped crying and cheered up. 

Mila settled back down against her Mami, reaching one hand out to latch onto your shirt and attempt to pull you closer. “Mama, closer.” She complained, huffing when you didn’t budge. 

Alexia frowned, worried you would put yourself into an uncomfortable position with your head in order to make Mila happy, but luckily, your daughter seemed to have the same thought. 

“Not on your back Mama! You gotta lay on your front. Here, lay on Mami.” Mila offered, whacking Alexia in the face with her cast as she struggled to move over. You snorted at the disgruntled look on your wife’s face, ignoring the fake glare she sent back your way.

It took some maneuvering from everyone involved before Mila was curled up against one side of Alexia’s chest, and you were resting with your cheek pressed into on the other side. Only once you and Mila were both comfy did Alexia kiss Mila on the forehead, and you chastly on the lips. 

And it was only when Mila had drifted off, soft puffs of air leaving her as she gripped onto both you and your wife, that you relaxed. Alexia gave you a knowing smile, well aware that your daughter's insistence that you hold her when she’d gotten hurt, and that you be included in the bedtime snuggles, had put to rest your worries that you’d failed her today. 

It all evened out, in parenthood. You couldn’t forget that. Tomorrow, when Alexia would turn away for a split second too long during breakfast and Mila would end up with syrup in her hair, you’d be even more sure of that. Mistakes didn’t change how much you or Alexia loved Mila, or how much she loved both of you. 

Mila didn’t keep score. She just loved you both, and that was that. 

-----

this has been in my drafts for genuienly several months so i apologize if it doesn't feel very cohesive. hope you enjoy anyway 🙂🫶🏻 thanks for reading 🫡🥰

[gffa]

Probably the biggest problem with The Acolyte is what really bit it in the ass in the finale--its main characters did things because of the plot, not because they were organically built up or made sense. I could mostly overlook it in previous episodes because it felt like there was still more time to reveal the characters' motivations, but now that we're at the end, there's just so little throughline for either of the twins' characterizations. Mae makes the most sense, you get why she was so angry, she always wanted Osha to stay with her, of course she'd drop everything when Osha was alive, but then suddenly she's just completely okay with Qimir erasing her memories of Osha? Of giving up that relationship that drove her the entire time--and Qimir says this was permanent, I doubt Mae had reason to think otherwise--in half a second flat, not just physically separating her from Osha, but erasing her entire relationship with her?? And Osha makes even less sense, we all joke that about how hot Manny Jacinto is and how he ~seduced her to the dark side, but honestly her motivations just seemed utterly gone in the previous episode, she's 100% ready to drop everything she believed in and go with him just because? And up to this point she's barely shown any interest in her connection to Mae, it's all "tell not show" that Osha cared about her, we're told that it was her biggest wound, we're told that she felt that connection, but we don't really see it until suddenly she's running away with Mae because apparently all along she felt that pull towards her? Intellectually, there are reasons given in the show, but I didn't feel any of them, it was more "Osha behaves this way because the plot needs her to behave this way." It's the same reason Sol can't say, "It really looked like your mother was going to kill you when she started Force-dissolving you, so I reacted without realizing what she was doing." because if he's allowed to explain, then the plot falls apart. The plot demands that he half-ass his explanation rather than because that felt natural to Sol's character. Things happen because the characters need to get from point A to point B, so point C can happen, rather than because the characters felt like they would actually do that. And it's worse because these are your main characters, the entire plot of the show is set around them.

[imaginedanvrs]

atonement

masterlist

camp counselor!wanda x reader

word count: 6k

warnings: homophobia and homophobic slurs, conversion therapy, manipulation, gaslighting, references to drug use, unhealthy power dynamics (so rape), noncon to dubcon, cunnilingus, degrading, fingering, nipple play, size kink, general mean Wanda

a/n: me? posting blasphemous content on Easter Sunday? I would never

It looked harmless enough. You weren’t sure what you had been anticipating, mostly because you had been trying to keep your mind off of the unavoidable destination, but it certainly wasn’t the depressing place you had expected. No, they were smart enough to keep that reality away from the parents that dropped their ‘troubled’ children off. If anything, it looked like the kind of summer camp that a lot of your friends would be enjoying about that time. 

  There wasn’t a church for one thing. In its place was what appeared to be a ranch style house that had kept its traditional family features such as the pair of rocking chairs on the porch and the maintained flowerbed around the borders. On either side of the building, closing in the driveway, were several other intimate buildings that created the impression of a community style living. They were all decorated with various posters about god’s love and acceptance that you guessed you were going to be hearing a lot about during your stay. 

  Your mother got out of the car first as a man who looked like he was still being dressed by his own mum jogged over from the main house to greet you both. You clenched your grip on your bag strap before deciding to face the music and follow her lead, still examining the area sceptically as your mother and the man introduced themselves. Your mother failed to deliver the same excitement the blonde did, but she attempted to force it nonetheless while your hosts laughed easily at something she had said.

  You weren’t listening to either of them as you retrieved your other bag from the boot of the car, not expecting the man to walk around the other side to greet you. “Y/n!” He said like you were an old friend. “I’m Reverend Vision but you can call me Rev Vis.” You most certainly weren’t going to be doing that. “We’re so happy to have you here, let me give you the grand tour of our home,” he beckoned. You trailed behind them.

  “Do you live on site?” Your mother asked.

  “Oh yes, me and the Mrs. We love our work,” he drowned on and began guiding you through the various rooms of the two buildings either side of his house. The more you learnt about the place, the more you began to dread your stay. There were ‘entertainment’ rooms that were filled with musical instruments and religious books and music. A canteen area fueled by the kitchen in which all of the students were to prepare every meal. A prayer room that was deserted at that time. Finally, the dorms. 

  Vision wasted no time in searching through your bags for anything that could “interfere with your journey” and came up empty handed, much to his well hidden disappointment. Your mother didn’t seem to notice it, too focused on the contents that came out of your bag, but you saw the flicker of his brow when he declared you were all good and began explaining the long lists of rules that you had no intention of memorising. 

  “And we do not allow any kind of sexual acts, with yourself or others,” he said lightly. Your mother shifted uncomfortably and you nodded. You had no intention of being caught by him with your hands down your pants when he did his checks during the night. You didn’t anticipate being there long because you were fully prepared to fake your conversion to heterosexuality. How hard could it be? Besides, you dreaded to think how much your parents were paying the capm under the illusion that they could somehow change you. You had to find it humorous, otherwise it would really fucking hurt. 

  It still did when you watched your family car disappear past the camp gates and into the dense tree line. You sighed, resting your head gently against the cool glass of your window and took in the camp in its entirety. It was a waste of beautiful land, you concluded as you examined where the large field met the changing trees. There were a couple guys in the camp uniform playing football on the grass while a cluster of girls sat to the side cheering them on. Apparently you had caught the end of the game, because Vision appeared on the edge of the grass and called them back inside, most likely to prepare for dinner. 

  “Y/n,” a voice behind you called. You spun around at the unexpected caller just as she opened her arms and enveloped you in a tight hug that took you wholly by surprise. 

 “Hi?” You greeted as a question, making the older woman chuckle as she held you before pulling away and keeping her soft hands on your arms as she took you in and allowed you to do the same. Holy fuck she was beautiful. Her striking emerald eyes bore straight through your own and somehow had the ability to make you feel entirely exposed, as though it would be futile to ever conceal anything from her, including your undeniable attraction to her. In contrast, her smile was soft and polite as she gazed at you in a friendly fondness you would with someone you haven't seen in a long time. There was something noticeably comforting in it and the way she carried an entirely put together personar that you wanted a peek beneath. Metaphorically of course… but also literally. 

  “I’m Wanda, Vision’s wife.” Rev Vis was punching way above his weight. This woman’s voice was even hot. Maybe pretending to be straight would be harder than you thought. 

  “Nice to meet you,” you smiled and glanced away awkwardly, finding her impossible to maintain eye contact with. She didn’t seem to care as she hooked her finger under your chin and turned your head to keep your attention on her. 

  “I have every faith you’re going to do so well here, sweetheart,” she told you fondly then dropped her hand and took a respectful step back. Right, gotta leave room for jesus. “Your roommate will be back soon then you too should head down for supper,” she instructed as she headed for the door.

  “Okay,” you nodded and pretended to unpack your bags. 

  “See you later, honey,” she said before disappearing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and collapsed onto your bed. 

*

Your first day dragged by painstakingly slowly. Between meals, you attended bible study taught by Vision who gave you his extra attention as it was your first time there. He asked you to compare your own relationship with god to that which he was teaching, expecting an answer in front of all the other students who had been through the same ordeal and spotted your lies as well as Vision did. Apparently everyone did the same when they started at the camp. 

  You had kitchen duty in the morning and garden duty in the afternoon (which was probably the least crap one) before you had to sit down for what felt like hours to listen to Vision sing about god on a guitar he didn’t know how to tune properly. During every interaction you had with him, all you could think about was how he had ended up with a woman like Wanda. Had they been high school sweethearts? Had their parents pushed them together? Did he have some kind of twisted blackmail over her? They were the only three explanations that made any sense to you but you weren’t about to ask any of the other students for their input. 

  As it turned out, your daily routine was also going to include a one on one session with the older woman which should have been something to act as a silver lining in your stay, but it was the most challenging aspect of all. 

  “When did your desire for women begin?” She asked after some small talk.

  “I’m not sure,” you lied in an effort to buy yourself some time to think of a good response. She smiled at you softly.

  “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to god,” she informed lightly. 

  “A couple years ago,” you replied honestly. This seemed to please her. 

  “And how did it manifest?” She sounded genuinely curious to know, lulling you into being unexpectedly open with her. It wasn’t as though you had anyone else to talk about that stuff with. 

  “There was a girl in my class that I thought was pretty,” you told her as you recalled your first real crush. “I felt more when she smiled at me than I did when I kissed a boy.” Wanda smiled as though she could see the purity of your memory as well as you could. Except to her, it wasn’t so innocent. 

  “The devil likes to work his way into places we could never expect,” she told you and your smile dropped. “Especially when we’re naive,” she added. It sounded as though she didn’t hold anything against you and she wholly believed you had been seduced by the devil himself and that it was impossible for there to be any other explanation. 

  “I was seventeen,” you reasoned. “I wasn’t naive.” Wanda liked the challenge you gave her. That whisper of a promised defiance gave her a thrill she knew to keep a cap unless she was required to use it. She would do anything for her beloved students to guide them back on the right path, especially one that wore the face of morality so well. 

  “And what do you mean by that?” Wanda enquired. 

  “I knew- I know what desire and attraction feel like,” you told her without looking her in those expectant eyes that unknowingly glimmered at your revelation. 

  “Lust,” Wanda said simply. “One of the hardest sins to resist when it affects one so physically.” 

  “Surely it can’t be bad if it’s natural,” you pointed out. That was not the response the brunette wanted to hear.

  “It is not natural,” Wanda said so quickly that she had to take a moment to recollect herself as you looked at her with shock as you took in that momentary crack in her exterior. It was interesting to watch and you wondered why it had hit a nerve. Surely you weren’t the only one to come into her office and state the fact. 

  “Y/n,” she called slowly. “If lust comes to you while you are here, you must come and tell me,” she told you seriously. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t be doing that. You agreed obediently anyway. 

  “Good,” she smiled again. “Now, is there anyone you currently feel ungodly towards?” 

  “The same girl,” you admitted sheepishly. Yes, you had had a variety of other minor crushes in the past couple years, but she always managed to fill you with that teasing anxiety that never fully manifested when she said hi to you. 

  Wanda raised her brows indiscreetly. “I hope you will soon be able to give that same loyalty to god,” she said. You didn’t give her a response, unsure of what to say when you had no intention of doing such a thing. “In time,” she added when she saw your hesitation. 

  “Maybe,” you muttered, meeting her half way. “Won’t he love me regardless?” You painted the question with an air of innocence that anyone else would have fallen for. But Wanda saw beyond that and knew you used the faux front purely to challenge her again. She was impressed. 

  “Of course,” she told you gently. “Always.”

*

You thought you were being subtle with the way you kept glancing over at the couple. It was breakfast time so there was a general murmur of conversation that you didn’t feel particularly pressed to join in with. All it did was teach you to avoid sitting with the group you had found yourself with again because they seemed to be the only students there who were actively participating in the conversion with the belief it would ‘fix them’. You pitied them in a way, but not enough to interfere with their ramblings about their opposite sex celebrity crushes. 

  Wanda caught your eye on one of the many times you had peered over. Vision was talking to her but apparently she was as distracted from her company as you were, more fixed on returning your gaze. The corner of her lip twitched when you realised you’d been caught and you swiftly looked away to stare down at your cereal, actively keeping your wandering gaze on the other side of the room for the rest of the meal. 

*

“So what did you do to end up here?” A curly haired boy asked as he strolled into the kitchen you occupied alone. He was swinging a tea towel in his hands as he joined you and started on drying the washing up you had started. 

  “Got caught making out with the pastor’s daughter,” you said stoically.

  “You’re fucking with me,” he grinned and your composure cracked. 

  “Yeah, but it’s much cooler than the truth,” you told him honestly as he jumped up onto the counter. 

  “I’m sure it’s not that bad. My grandma walked in on me with my dick down my best friend’s ass,” he told you and you couldn’t stop the laugh that rose promptly. You grinned at the boy next to you in disbelief, thankful that your own luck wasn’t that bad. “Your turn,” he prompted. 

  “I told my best friend that I like girls. She told my parents,” you said humorously, as though it didn’t hurt like a bitch just to remember. 

  “I think I have better mates than you,” he concluded. You didn’t argue with that. “I’m James.”

  “Y/n,” you replied. “How long have you been here?”

  “Four months.”

  “What?” You splashed some water over the floor when your hand slipped in shock and James yelped when some drops hit him then started chuckling at the look you were giving him. 

  “What? Did you think it was only going to last a couple weeks?”

  “Kinda, yeah,” you muttered as you returned your attention to your chore. “Do you think you’ll be out soon?”

  “Nah, they know I’m bullshitting them. We all are, of course, but some of them can trick themselves into believing it, which is good enough for Vision.” 

  “Yeah, I know Wanda sees right through me,” you told him. “Which by the way, that makes no sense right?”

  “I reckon he’s holding her family captive,” James stated simply. You laughed with him easily, glad you had found someone like minded to you. “Hey, do you wanna get high?”

*

The nimble threads at the bottom of your uniformed cardigan were multiplying as your stay at the camp went by. Your fingers frequently found their way to them when you were uncomfortable, which was more often than not, and pulled at the finer threads until you unintentionally collected a small bundle in the palm of your hands that you had to hide. Vision never commented on it, but Wanda did, telling you that it represented your impulse to repress your femininity or some bullshit like that. 

  You left the threads alone and laced your hands together in your lap when she gave you a pointed look from her office chair and you muttered an apology. 

  “I’ve noticed you and James have become quite close,” she commented. “I must admit I was hoping you would find better company in some of the other students here. James doesn’t provide the best example to follow,” she told you. 

  “We’re just friends,” you shrugged, slightly irked that the older woman had a problem with the one refuge you had been able to find in the camp. 

  “Are you friends with anyone else here?” She questioned, not yet providing you the warm smile she offered every time you stepped into her office or saw her in general. She didn’t look happy that day. She looked troubled but you didn’t believe that was solely down to your decision to spend time with James. 

  “Not yet,” you told her even though you weren’t planning on expanding your social circle. Though if it was only two people it must be more of a line. Still, adding that unfulfilled optimism was meant to appease Wanda. You should have expected her to see it for what it really was. 

  “What do you and James talk about?” She wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Our lives, I guess,” you shrugged. 

  “Your experiences,” Wanda said for you. You knew there was no point in denying that when your glance towards her told her all she needed to know. 

  “Sometimes.” 

  “You should only discuss those topics with myself or Vision, otherwise you may end up having those experiences affirmed and encouraged,” she explained pointedly. You nodded uncomfortably as your fingers found their ways to your threads again only to snap back in place when you felt Wanda’s eyes momentarily burn into you. Something was very different with her. “So tell me what you discussed,” she pushed. 

  “I told him how much I dislike kissing boys,” you told her matter of factly as you tried to suppress your rising irritation. Maybe it was her job, but you hated her need to know everything you and James did. 

  “And you want to kiss girls instead?”

  “I want to do a lot of things with them,” you laid on the innocence thick, playing your role as the good christian who was simply admitting to how she had been led astray and just wanted to atone for her sins. As always, Wanda saw through your facade though that time it made her tick. You knew exactly what you were doing, you just had no idea the effect it was having on the older woman. You had no idea that your insistence on pretending to be good while knowing you were bad stirred something in her that she wasn’t supposed to feel. You were pushing those sinful desires that had infiltrated your mind right into her own and she wouldn’t allow it. 

  “That’s all for today,” she declared without giving a response to your statement. It hadn’t even been your full session time, maybe more like half of it. 

  “Okay,” you said slowly as you stood up. 

  “I suggest you spend the rest of your evening with your roommate today,” she told you as you lingered in the doorway. 

  “Right, bye,” you bid awkwardly, frowning to yourself as you walked away.

  The moment the door closed Wanda sighed heavily and leant back in her chair, catching sight of the framed photo of herself and Vision when they went on a hiking holiday in Colorado. The both beamed at the camera as they held each other close, though Wanda’s love for her husband had been as dim as it was in the present. But it was what god wanted. What god certainly didn’t want was for Wanda to allow her mind to wander to you in the way it had during that session when you had been taunting her with that faux naivety that everyone else seemed to fall for. 

  She had such hope for you when she first met you. But the images you had put in her head of her hand disappearing beneath your skirt as her lips clashed with yours, pinning you down to that very couch you perched on, that was something that could not be allowed to flourish, no matter how it made her throb between her legs. Wanda forced herself to stare at her husband’s image and remember when he used to make her feel that way, but those memories of his breathless features beneath her were replaced with your own and suddenly she couldn’t help but ponder what your sweet moans would sound like next to her ear as her fingers dipped inside-

  “Lord help me,” Wanda called, but he never came. 

*

You and Wanda both faced your own new challenges as the weeks went by. For you, your only refuge was gone. James had been sent back home randomly one night after an incident that no one would discuss with you. You had written your numbers on pieces of paper before that night, but it had disappeared as mysteriously as James had and gave you an equally chilling feeling. You had no idea what was going to happen to him when he arrived home without the results he had been sent away to achieve. Would they send him somewhere else? Somewhere worse? The only thing you could do was try not to end up like him. 

  Unfortunately, Wanda knew that nothing had changed within you. You continued to try and fool her with your illusion of innocence, reciting what Vision had taught you, socialising with the committed students and answering her questions in the way she wanted to hear rather than the truth. Little did you know that your efforts to quicken your release from the camp were futile, because Wanda simply didn’t want you gone yet. You were fighting a losing battle, just as she was. 

  As much as she despised to acknowledge it, the brunette fought her own desires as much as you did. It made her hate how much she was drawn to you. It made her ashamed of the acts she envisaged herself performing with you and how she just knew in her heart that you would so willingly part your legs for her. She wasn’t blind to your attraction to her, she had encountered it enough in her career to see it a mile away, no matter how discreet you thought you were being. 

  “I think I’m getting better,” you lied as you peered at Wanda cautiously. 

  “And what makes you say that?” The older woman inquired, humouring your plain fib. 

  “I don’t think about girls,” you said as you willed yourself not to look at Wanda’s long legs that were crossed eloquently. 

  “What do you think about?” You hadn’t been prepared for that. 

  “God?” Wrong. Obviously wrong. Wanda hummed and you knew that meant she didn’t buy it. 

  “Y/n, I want you to start being more honest with me.” You froze and didn’t dare look her in the eye. “I’m aware that you’re not progressing, so I think we should try something new. Just you and me.” You frowned and risked looking up to the confident woman, not having a clue of the excitement that manifested so secretly. “Are you familiar with penance?” You were, yet you had no idea where Wanda was going with it. 

  “There are many different forms. Some fast, some pray, some confess, but as we practise most of that here anyway, I want to try something else,” Wanda explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered over to the desk in the corner of her office. You heard her rummaging around in the draws as a feeling of unease began to emerge in your chest. Rightfully so, because when Wanda turned back around, she held a riding crop firmly in her grasp. 

  “Stand up,” she instructed and you quickly did so as you eyed the tool in her hands. “Usually you would do this yourself, but I don’t believe you’re capable,” she explained lightly. “Hold out your hand.”

  “Wanda,” you said as you kept your hand glued to your side. “I don’t want to.” Her features were deceivingly gentle as she listened to you. 

  “I don’t want to do this to you either, sweetheart. It’s just the only solution. So hold out your hand,” she repeated, gripping the crop so tight you could hear the leather stretch in her grasp. It unsettled you greatly. 

  “But it will hurt,” you objected, eyes wide. Wanda could have laughed at how oblivious you were to her intentions.

  “It’s meant to,” she said simply and grabbed your wrist with a force that completely paralleled the softness of her tone. 

  “Wanda-” you tried to yank your hand back but you weren’t as strong as the brunette who only had to hold you with one hand while the other brought the crop down hard. 

  You cried out but Wanda used her grip on you to pull you flush against her chest, her features having turned ice cold. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced through your own with a sharpness that was usually dulled. The next words she uttered were void of that nurturing faith she used with everyone else and were replaced with something much darker. “If you keep struggling I’ll bend you over that desk and whip your ass instead.” You trembled against her, trying to decipher what your best bet was. When you took too long to decide, Wanda reached around and groped your ass, digging the crop in as she did so as though to make sure you knew she was serious. Your breath hitched as you found yourself completely trapped against the woman that squeezed you through your skirt. You whimpered, riling her up more until you nodded. 

  “Good,” Wanda exhaled, calming the heat she was struck with at the sight of your fearful eyes. “With every strike, you’re going to confess something you’ve lied about to me.” There were so many lies to choose from that when the first strike came, you struggled to pick one out. “Confess,” Wanda demanded, all of her patience suddenly absent. 

  “I don’t like boys, I like girls,” you admitted in a rush, refusing to look at Wanda or your burning hand that she struck again. “I’m not doing the work,” you continued. Wanda remained dissatisfied, striking your raw palm again and again as you admitted to your lies, none of which being what Wanda wanted to hear. 

  “I touch myself!” That was what she was looking for. 

  “Look at me,” Wanda instructed, examining the tear streaks down your cheeks as you whimpered. It was clear you were trying to appear strong and indifferent, but it was quickly becoming too much. The older woman cooed at you as dropped the crop to the couch behind you and took a hold of your inflamed hand, rubbing the abused hand with a tenderness that only made it burn more. 

  “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her smile had grown sinister and you realised you were nowhere near done. “What thoughts do you touch yourself to?” Wanda questioned further, rubbing the most tender areas of your palm. 

  “Lying with a woman,” you hiccuped, hoping the harmless phrasing could somehow ease your next punishment. 

  “Who?” She pushed, gripping your chin roughly and forcing you to look straight ahead at her as you confessed what she already knew. 

  “You,” you whispered. Arousal rushed to the forefront of Wanda’s mind, and with it came anger. You weren't allowed to make her feel the way you did. She had a husband and she was a faithful Christian wife until you showed up and infected her mind with your own illness. You had to be put in your place. 

  In a blur, you were laying flat on the sofa you had lied continuously to Wanda on. You were barely given the chance to react before Wanda hiked her leg over your chest and straddled you with a purely feral look upon her face. You felt a strike of fear hit you, however you also weren’t blind to how attractive Wanda looked in her state of desperation. It may have been a desperation to reclaim control and to punish you for her own feelings, but it was hot nonetheless. 

  “You’ve been tempting me ever since you got here,” she hissed, feeling under her conservative skirt for a moment before she lifted it up around her waist. “This is your fault,” Wanda told you as you soaked in the view of her exposed pussy just inches from your face. You could smell her arousal and when she moved to lower herself onto your awaiting mouth, you eagerly grabbed at the back of her thighs until she slapped you away. “You don’t get to touch me with those filthy fingers, just let me use you.” Although you knew it was terribly wrong, you felt your own cunt heat up at her instructions. You knew that it was fucked up that the married woman wanted to get off on riding your mouth, but you wanted it so bad. 

  “Just like that,” Wanda sighed as you ran your tongue through her wet folds and sucked on them lightly, aiming to savour every drop and inch of her. “Put your tongue out,” she continued to demand. As soon as you did, Wanda began to vigorously grind her clit against your muscle, allowing your tastebuds to become ablaze with her as she cursed above you. You had never heard her swear before and knew she would scold anyone who muttered anything close, so knowing you could elicit such a reaction from her made your insides twist with pride. 

  She didn’t argue when you switched to sucking on her pulsing clit and felt it throb in your mouth. You moaned against her as her movements continued and her thighs locked around her head. It felt as though she really was using you for her own pleasure, not caring about your own or any comfort. You were the shameful bliss she was forbidden to engage with, but it felt incredible to ignore her god and use you as she wished. But she was really disobeying him, she was just teaching you a lesson. It wasn’t really sinning. 

  “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, you slut!” Wanda cried out as she became engulfed with the sensations you gave her. You had no intention of stopping as you shifted to pushing your tongue inside her. You were met by the tight squeeze of her walls and felt your own clench at the discovery she hadn’t had sex in a while. That explained why she was so sensitive too. Besides yourself, you smirked into the older woman and doubled your efforts. 

  It didn’t take long for Wanda to get close to the bliss she had become stranger to and you weren’t about to let her lose that. She knew her body, even after some time of depriving herself, and told you exactly what to do to get her there. “That’s it, that’s it,” she panted, head swimming as she erratically thrust herself onto her mouth and came with a sharp cry. You moaned against her, adamant on tasting your reward as Wanda trembled on top of you and eventually forced herself off when you didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to let greed overcome her. 

  You looked up at her with a hesitant smile that was apparently the last thing Wanda wanted to see. She glared at you and immediately lifted you up and spun you around so that you were leaning over the armrest on the sofa, not allowing you a second to object. “What-” you tried but she didn’t want to hear it. 

  “We’re not done,” she said without care as she lifted your own skirt over your back and yanked down your soaked underwear. She bit her lip at the sight of the wetness that stained them and threw them over to her desk for safe keeping, definitely not to sniff and use to get off later. 

  “Desperate whore,” she muttered to herself as she ran two fingers through your drenched lips. “You want to get fucked so bad? I’ll show you what it’s like to get fucked.” She let the threat loom over you as dipped her digits into you lightly, barely enough to stimulate you but enough for her to decipher how tight you were. Wanda groaned when she felt you clench in anticipation, desperate for any touch you would give her. At that, she let the remains of her self control slip away and thrust her fingers in at once. “So tight,” she commented as you clung onto the sofa, moaning at the feeling of her filling you up in the way you had dreamed ever since you first met the older woman. 

  “Wanda,” you whined when she spread her fingers out within you to push your walls. 

  “Shut up,” she hissed, refusing to listen to your pathetic pleas on the tip of your tongue. “Take it.” And you did. You bit into the couch to mute yourself as Wanda curled and thrust her fingers inside your wet cunt, mapping out every inch of you and pushing your body’s limits. She added a third finger without any consideration to your stifled whines. 

  Wanda, as she told herself, was only doing it to hurt you and punish you. You deserved it for sinning so openly in her home and for attempting to corrupt her. It wouldn’t work, she convinced herself, she wouldn’t succumb to your lust but she had to show you the right path. She had to make you ache. With that in mind, she added a fourth finger and pumped her fingers in wildly. 

  You cried out into the material you sunk your teeth into, feeling your pussy sting at the stretch Wanda was causing. Still, you continued to soak down to her palm. It just hurt so good. Too good for Wanda to allow, so she snuck her hand under your shirt and bra to take your nipples between her fingers and twist them cruelly. You whimpered at the unnecessary act, making Wanda grin triumphantly. 

  Despite the pain, it did little to distract you from the heat between your legs that was quickly growing out of control. Having stretched you out as much as she pleased, Wanda was able to thrust her fingers inside you without mercy, attacking every sensitive nerve until you became a mess on the sofa she was meant to therapise you on. “You going to cum for me, whore?” Wanda asked when she felt you twitch around her. You mumbled a yes you were lucky she heard. “You’re so pathetic like this, so weak to temptation,” she scolded you with a wicked smile you couldn’t see. “Cum for me.” That was all it took for your muscles to clench tightly around her and let go. You moaned like the whore she saw you as as you came, gripping onto the sofa for dear life as Wanda continued to ruthlessly pump her digits into your cunt. 

  “Too much,” you whined when she failed to stop. She didn’t listen. You came down from one orgasm and soon went tumbling into another when Wadna kept up her actions, making sure to drive her point home. You squirmed under her as your body became overstimulated but there was no room or strength for you to move away. “Please!” You begged as you bucked into her palm, unable to stop the contradicting action that served to amuse Wanda. 

  “So sensitive,” Wanda mused, coaxing you through another orgasm until she deemed that the message had gone through enough. You collapsed in a defeated heap as she stood up from the sofa and corrected her uniform as though you weren’t even there. You missed her taking her tainted digits into her mouth to appease her curiosity. Lord, she thought as she tasted your sweetness. She swiftly pushed away the impulse to keep you down and taste your sweetness directly from the source. She had to keep things professional after all. 

  “See me first thing in the morning,” she instructed, features still flushed with lingering lust. She had given into temptation and whether she liked it or not, she would indulge in you again. You weren’t going home anytime soon.

[hiitsm]

Beneath the Spotlight

You try to navigate the challenges of being in a private relationship with Alexia Putellas while facing invasive scrutiny from fans.

Angst, Hurt, Comfort

-

Dating Alexia Putellas was never going to be easy, but you didn’t expect it to feel like this.

In the beginning, it was a quiet, private love. Something just between the two of you, away from the public eye. Alexia’s world was already so exposed, every move she made scrutinized by millions of fans and the media. You were determined to keep what you had safe, to protect the fragile, beautiful thing you had built together from the harshness of the outside world.

At first, it worked. You kept a low profile, attending her matches when you could, but always blending into the background, just another face in the crowd. No public displays, no social media posts. It was just you and Alexia, sharing stolen moments of peace in a life otherwise defined by chaos and noise.

You vividly remember those stolen moments. The nights you spent celebrating her victories in the quiet of your shared space, away from the buzz of the stadium. You’d sit together with her family, sharing laughter and stories over home-cooked meals. The pride in her eyes when you’d cheer her on, the way she would snuggle into you after a game, savoring the simple comfort of being with you, were all part of the intimate support you offered.

But the more you fell for her, the harder it became to stay hidden. You wanted to be there for her, to support her at her games, to celebrate her victories and console her after defeats. And it wasn’t just about her. Your relationship was something you were proud of, something you wanted to share with the world. But every time you thought about making it public, you were reminded of what that would mean. The scrutiny, the opinions of strangers, the pressure to be perfect in a way that no one ever truly could be.

You were there with her family for some of her biggest matches, your heart swelling with pride every time she took to the pitch. You watched her in awe, this incredible woman who had captured your heart, as she led her team with the same determination and passion that she put into everything. But you were careful, always careful. You sat in the stands, far enough away from the other WAGs to avoid drawing attention, never lingering after games, slipping out before the crowd could catch sight of you.

But despite your best efforts, people began to notice. You were spotted at too many games, your face caught in the background of too many photos. The rumors started slowly, with fans speculating about who you might be, trying to piece together the puzzle that was your relationship with Alexia.

It started as innocent curiosity, but soon it turned into something more intense, more invasive. Fans began scouring social media, looking for any clues about your identity. They examined every photo, every post, trying to figure out who you were. You had always been careful with your online presence, but it wasn’t enough. They found you.

One day, you logged into your social media accounts to find hundreds of new notifications. Your private world had been cracked open, your name and face plastered across fan pages and discussion forums. They had pieced it all together. Your appearances at matches, your connection to Alexia. They knew who you were now, and they weren’t shy about sharing their opinions.

At first, the comments were mostly harmless. Fans gushing over how lucky Alexia was, how happy they were that she had found someone. But as more people became aware of you, the tone shifted. They started asking why you weren’t at every match, why you weren’t more visible on Alexia’s social media. Why weren’t you as dedicated as the other WAGs? Why didn’t you post about her victories, her achievements? Why weren’t you supporting her the way they thought you should?

You tried to ignore it. After all, what did these people know about your life, your relationship? But the comments kept coming, growing more pointed, more accusatory. "She’s not a real fan." "She doesn’t care about Alexia." "Why isn’t she at the games? Does she even love her?"

You had your own life, your own career, something you were deeply passionate about. It was one of the things that had drawn Alexia to you in the first place. Your independence, your ambition. She loved that you had your own goals, your own dreams, that you weren’t just riding on her coattails. You remembered the intimate moments you shared, like the time Alexia had whispered to you how amazing she found you, both in your quiet support and in the more passionate moments you shared behind closed doors.

Your independence, once a source of pride, was now being used against you. Each time you missed a match due to work commitments, the voices in your head grew louder, accusing you of failing Alexia. You remembered the quiet night at home when Alexia had pulled you close, her appreciation for your dedication and support evident in her every touch and word.

The harassment became relentless. Strangers flooded your social media accounts with messages questioning your dedication to Alexia, your love for her. They dissected your life, your every move, making you feel like you were under a microscope. You found yourself dreading the notifications on your phone, each one a reminder that you were failing in the eyes of people who didn’t even know you.

You began to pull back, retreating into yourself. The joy you once felt in your work started to dim, overshadowed by the guilt that you weren’t doing enough, that you weren’t enough. Every time you missed a match because of a work commitment, the knot in your stomach tightened, the voices in your head growing louder, telling you that you were letting Alexia down.

But you didn’t tell her. You couldn’t. Alexia had her own pressures to deal with, the weight of her team’s expectations, the demands of her career. The last thing you wanted was to burden her with your insecurities, to add to her stress. So you kept it to yourself, putting on a brave face whenever she was around, pretending that everything was fine.

The distance between you grew, not physically but emotionally. Alexia noticed, of course. She noticed how you hesitated before answering her questions, how your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore. She saw the way you seemed to shrink into yourself, how you avoided talking about your day, how you seemed to flinch whenever her phone buzzed with notifications.

Alexia turned to you, her expression soft with concern. "Is everything okay, mi amor?" she asked gently, her voice laced with worry. Her hand reached out to touch yours, her fingers brushing against yours in a reassuring gesture. You felt the weight of her concern, but your mind was miles away, overwhelmed by the pressure and negativity that had been festering online.

“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask than a true reflection of how you felt. Alexia's eyes searched yours, her concern deepening. She had always been able to read you like an open book, and the worry in her gaze spoke volumes.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” she said softly, her thumb gently caressing your knuckles. “Are you sure there’s nothing else going on? It’s not just work, is it?”

The memory of holding Alexia’s hand during a media scrum, offering her quiet strength, flashed through your mind. You wanted to share your pain, to let her in, but fear of adding to her burdens kept you silent. Her touch was a comfort, but the weight of your own struggles felt heavy.

You wanted to tell her, to let it all out and let her comfort you, but the fear of being a burden kept your mouth shut. "I’m fine, Ale," you insisted, leaning into her touch. "Just a lot on my mind with work."

She didn’t push you, but you could tell she wasn’t convinced. And that only made you feel worse because you hated keeping things from her. You hated the way this was affecting your relationship, the way it was making you pull away from the person you loved most in the world.

You started coming home later and later, using work as an excuse to avoid confronting the growing chasm between you and Alexia. She would be waiting for you, her eyes searching yours for the connection that was slipping away. But no matter how much you wanted to reach out, to bridge that gap, you couldn’t find the words. The guilt was too overwhelming, the fear of disappointing her too paralyzing.

The final straw came one afternoon after a particularly grueling day at work. You had just finished a major project, one that had taken weeks of late nights and early mornings to complete. You should have felt proud, but all you felt was emptiness. The satisfaction that usually came with accomplishing something big was nowhere to be found, replaced by a gnawing sense of inadequacy.

On the way home, you stopped by a coffee shop for a quick pick-me-up. You were waiting in line when you overheard a group of people at a nearby table, talking about the latest football match. At first, you didn’t pay much attention, but then you heard Alexia’s name.

"I don’t know how she does it," one of them was saying. "She’s got so much going on, and her girlfriend’s hardly ever around."

"Yeah, I saw on Instagram that she wasn’t even at the last match," another person chimed in. "I don’t get it. If I were dating someone like Alexia, I’d be at every single game, no matter what."

"Maybe she’s just not that into her," someone else suggested, and that was the final straw.

The words felt like a knife twisting in your chest. You could hardly breathe as you heard the cruel speculation. Without even grabbing your coffee, you stumbled out of the shop, your hands trembling uncontrollably. The hurt and frustration you’d been trying so hard to contain broke free, leaving you feeling as if the ground had been pulled from beneath you.

The tears started to fall as you made your way home, each step feeling heavier than the last. The weight of the online harassment, the accusations, and the misunderstandings crashed over you like a relentless tide. By the time you reached your apartment, you were a raw, shaking mess. The sobs that escaped you were more than just tears, they were a release of all the pain and guilt that had been building up inside.

You didn’t even make it to the bedroom. You collapsed onto the living room floor, your body heaving with the force of your sobs. Every ounce of your despair, every fragment of fear and guilt, poured out in a cascade of emotion. The room felt small and oppressive, the silence only magnifying the depth of your anguish.

Alexia came home to find you there, and her heart shattered at the sight. She had been looking forward to a quiet evening with you, but now, seeing you so broken, all her worries crystallized into an urgent need to comfort you. Without a moment’s hesitation, she dropped to her knees beside you, her face etched with concern and heartache.

"Mi amor, what happened?" Her voice was a trembling whisper, her hands reaching out to cradle your face gently. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’m here, and I want to help.”

You tried to speak, but all that came out were choked sobs. Alexia’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, her warmth a balm against the cold, overwhelming grief. She rocked you softly, her breath hitching as she held you, her love and sorrow palpable in every touch.

“Please,” she murmured, her voice breaking, “I need to know what’s hurting you. I can’t stand seeing you like this. Let me in, mi vida.”

In the cocoon of her embrace, you felt the walls you had built around your pain start to crumble. The comfort of her presence, the sincerity in her voice, made the flood of tears even harder to contain. You clung to her, the rawness of your feelings spilling out uncontrollably. Through your sobs, you managed to whisper, “They think I don’t care. They think I’m not supportive... and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Alexia’s eyes filled with tears of her own, her love and empathy evident as she held you tighter. “You’re more than enough, mi amor,” she said softly, her voice filled with fierce tenderness. “What they say doesn’t matter. What matters is us. I see all that you do for me, all the love and support you give. Don’t let them make you doubt yourself. I’m here with you, always.”

Her words, so full of love and reassurance, began to heal the wounds that had felt so deep. Alexia stayed with you, her embrace a constant reminder that you weren’t alone. In that moment, surrounded by her unconditional support, the pain began to ease, replaced by a fragile but hopeful sense of connection.

As the tears subsided, Alexia gently stroked your hair, whispering comforting words and holding you close. You knew that together, despite the outside noise and pressure, you could face anything. Her presence was a testament to the strength of your bond, a reminder that no matter how harsh the world could be, your love for each other was a sanctuary from the storm.

-

Note: I wrote this piece as a reminder that we often don't see the full picture of someone’s life. It's important to remember that kindness and understanding can make a world of difference. Let’s strive to support and uplift one another, rather than judging from the outside.

-

[mayiluv]

♡Hashiras react to you kissing them on their forehead♡

Masterlist

Kyojuro Rengoku

He's surprised and confused. He will look at you and say "Thanks [Name] !" Without knowing what you meant by that.

He doesn't mind it tho, quite the opposite. He would take it as a praise and even subtly ask for it whenever he finish training.

"[Name]! Have you seen what I did? It was impressive wasn't it?"

Kiss his forehead again and he'll tackle you into a hug.

Gyomei Himejima

First of all, I don't think you'll be able to kiss his forehead when he's standing. You can try when he's sitting tho.

He would turn his head to where you are (I know he's blind but blind people can stil know where you are thanks to other senses) and would start crying.

"You are yoo kind for this world, bless your soul."

Otherwise he likes getting forehead kisses as goodnight kiss since it's the only time you can reach him.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

My boy Sanemi would probably jumps two feet away from you as soon as your lips make contact with his skin.

"I'm not a toddler anymore. Tsk."

You can try to explain him you meant no harm but that won't calm him down. Because the only reason he acts mad is because he doesn't want you to see him flustered.

He doesn't really like receiving forehead kisses. It makes him feel like a child and mostly...It reminds him of his mother.

Obanai Iguro

He's so shy, he'll turn around and let Kaburamaru face you. You headpat Kaburamaru and Obanai would probably turn around the moment you want to headpat his pet so he could receive the headpat.

He wants to kiss yours back but is too ashamed of his face to properly do it. So instead would force hug you because he doesn't want you to think he doesn't liked it.

"Sorry I can't kiss you back."

Reassure him with more kisses.

Giyu Tomioka

He stood there cluelessly looking at you. Do you wanted something from him ? Are you trying to transfer a message ? Should he be worried ?

He overthink everything and will end up dozing off looking at you. Once you explain he'll nod like he just learned something new.

"Alright [Name]. I'll make sure to remember next time."

Next time he would blush and lean in the kiss. Kinda like a cat.

Mitsuri Kanroji

She would blush and shake her hands agressively in the air confused. You'd stood there watching her with a smile.

"[Name]-chan! W-what was that for ?"

She would shyly looks down, if you hug her and pats her head and she would melt into your arms and become as pink as her hair.

Uzui Tengen

Honestly, he would straight up take you in his arms and then walks away. He's used to kisses since he got THREE wives.

But he's going to tease you about it no matter what you say.

"Very flashy of you I may admit, but you should've think twice before doing so!"

Yeah....You get what I mean

Muichiro Tokito

He would stay still and fixes you waiting for something else.

"what is it ?"

He doesn't get it. That was out of pocket but he liked it. It was making him feel warm inside.

He'd probably do it back to you not knowing what it means.

Shinobu Kocho

She would be surprised AND do it back to you.

She didn't like the feeling of being treated like a child but at the same time she liked the feeling of security that she got from it.

"You're so adorable sweetie."

You get a headpat from her.

Talk to me!

[gremlingottoosilly]

More on the poor girl who’s 141’s chewtoy?

She has the worst fate!! Being a pet wife/incubator for one monster is bad enough, but it can be manageable if your new owner isn't an asshole and doesn't treat you like a lifeless object. It's a rare case, sure, but even Konig is somewhat softer after you get his eggs, the mating instincts in monsters are all kicking in. The 141 however...I love to see them as a pack of different breed shifters, maybe were-creatures like bears, wolves, and various birds...they all have this semi-animalistic mentality, they formed a pack bond that is stronger than any blood relations. They are more than family and it's only natural that they share the same darling, yes? Unfortunately for you, it is only natural for them, and you're soon getting dragged from the human pet shop by an excited overgrown werewolf with a dumb mohawk that chirps about getting such a pretty girl for his team!! You are never alone - every time other team members are on a mission, the other ones take care of you, always keeping watch over your silly escape attempts like humans have any future in the monster world now( Gaz is usually the one who is softer with you, his nature as a werebird is making him somewhat more caring, he will drag you a lot of shiny gifts and flashy clothes because he is pretty and he wants his girl to be pretty! Soap is usually the one to always fuck you, unfortunately. Being a classic werewolf, he is too fucking horny for his own good, always stuck in a knot with you, always mating and hoping that you will give birth to healthy pups, even though he is somewhat sad they are mostly taken away for the training needs( his pack mentality is strong, so if you really really really want at least some of your children to stay with you, you should beg Soap to allow you to see them occasionally - he would gladly steal the pups back to base, but it would mean you won't give him as much attention(

@ceilidho mostly inspired me for this, but werebear!Price is literally perfect and I won't stand for otherwise. He is big, burly, with a soft tummy and warm hands that would easily push you down, ass up in the air because you were a naughty little incubator and whined too much about Soap and Gaz being too rough( he knows your limits, and also knows that they are spoiling you too much! You need some discipline and your bear captain is gladly providing you with spanks that make your ass raw, with his teeth and a dick that takes away your ability to walk at least for a few days( he is older than every other member of the pack, and he won't really bother you too much with sex - he knows you're tired, especially if you're pregnant, and he enjoys slow cockwarming sessions and just laying in the nest with you, false hybernating on your swollen, milk-filled breasts.

Ghost is...complicated. You don't even know what type of shifter he is at first, he is too fucking secretive to even talk about it. Only after a few involuntary breakdowns, could you catch a glimpse of his shadowy form - whatever animal-type monster he was, staid in the past. He is all shadows now, dark and glossy with smoke tendrils that help him handle you in place every time you become too squirmy. You were so convinced Simon hated you at first, just a dumb human who disrupts the balance of their pack, but your fears were proven wrong once you were pressed against a wall, thick dark tendrils squeezing in and out of your pussy. Ghost is the only one who can't breed you, and it only makes him more protective whenever you're pregnant.

[g0dwat3rwritings]

Hellooo, Im not sure if ur requests are open, so ignore this if they aren’t, but could i request Obanai x Reader that is like, his adopted little sister, they have similar background etc, act similar (shes a lil softer but yk)? Like, u could really mistaken them for siblings if u didnt know, and all platonic ofc [: Also, If u have the time and want to, you can also make hcs abt what the other hashira think of u, but thats alot of work so i understand if u dont.

Anyways- I hope u have a nice day/night, and dw for not doing this, I fully understand. [[[:

I got this request on November 4, 2023, and started writing it today (June 18, 2024). Man, I am so sorry 😭

I also subconsciously made the reader a teenager, around the ages of 12-14

Tengen's part includes his wives, because I love them and needed to include them some way.

I think I just suddenly forgot how to write Gyomei and Shinobu??? so, their parts are rather short and they only have a few bullet points.

Warnings ;; None.

Relationship ;; Platonic

Type ;; Headcanons

Iguro Obanai ;; The Snake Hashira

Obanai is very protective of you, and even that's an understatement.

He knows you're strong, especially for a kid, after all, you're his Tsuguko.

Surprisingly, you didn't become his Tsuguko just because you're like a sibling to him, you became his Tsuguko because he could recognize your strength. (And you wouldn't stop pestering him)

You're very close to Kaburamaru, and he likes to be near you, just like with Iguro.

When you're not training with Iguro, you're more than likely taking missions here and there, or you're at home.

He didn't really like the idea of you meeting the other Hashira, besides Mitsuri, mostly because he doesn't exactly care for any of them.

He holds very high expectations for you, but at the same time, his expectations are also very low.

Giyuu Tomioka ;; The Water Hashira

Tomioka wouldn't exactly bother getting to know you, or bother talking to you, unless you initially started a conversation.

At first, it would seem like he was ignoring you, but if you kept pestering, he'd slowly open up, day by day, and start talking to you.

If you didn't happen to start a conversation upon meeting him, he may give you a wave upon seeing you, but besides that, you won't get much else.

He's very awkward around other people, especially children.

Even if you don't exactly talk, or if you aren't exactly friends, he'll get you a snake keychain for your birthday every year.

He may not know much about you, but he knows how much you hang around Obanai, so he assumed you liked snakes.

Mitsuri Kanroji ;; The Love Hashira

Mitsuri absolutely loves you.

She loves taking you out to lunches, when she's able to.

No matter the length of your hair, she absolutely loves to put your hair up, or do your hair.

She has a tendency to buy you things from random markets. If she happens to be there, and see something you may like, she's buying it and giving it to you the next time she sees you, with the widest smile on her face.

Sleepovers with Mitsuri are a must. She manages to convince Obanai to let you stay with her for a night or two while you just have a girls night.

Muichiro Tokito ;; The Mist Hashira

This mostly depends on when you meet Muichiro.

If you meet him before he regains his memory, he constantly forgets who you are, just like with everyone else.

He doesn't much care for you, and if you strike up a conversation with him, he's not very into the conversation.

If you meet him after he regains his memory, that also depends on who you are to Tanjiro.

If you're close to Tanjiro, he'll start up conversation with you occasionally, and you'll basically be acquaintances, or friends, if you happen to be lucky.

If you're not, he talks to you occasionally around the base, but doesn't actively try to start up conversation with you.

Tengen Uzui ;; The Sound Hashira

Tengen believes you're Obanai's little sister, even if you tell him otherwise.

Maybe a year and a half after you meet him, he'll slowly start to accept that you're not.

But even then, he still calls you "Obanai's Flashy Little Sis"

Suma frantically worries about you, due to the fact that you're a child, and taking on important missions.

Makio acts like she couldn't care less, but is still kind of worried for the same reason Suma is. You're just a kid, and a Tsuguko at that.

Hinatsuru, just like the other two, tends to worry, for all the same reasons, but she's very sweet about them.

After Tengen's retirement, if you're about to head out on a mission, they'll stop by and give you a few snacks for the road.

They kind of act like protective family members.

Like your uncle and three aunts, in a sense.

Gyomei Himejima ;; The Stone Hashira

Gyomei treats you like one of the children he used to care for.

He, like Obanai, is rather protective, but he's quite lenient about it.

He even gifts you one of his spare beads, hoping they'll protect you on your journeys, given how young you are.

He's almost like a father figure.

Sanemi Shinazugawa ;; The Wind Hashira

Sanemi doesn't much care for you at first.

That's an understatement, he doesn't say a single word to you and simply walks away.

In an odd way, you remind him of Genya. He's also just.. not good with children so he has no clue what to say, or how to act.

If you, some how, some way, get him to talk to you, he's very stiff and very rude at first.

He wouldn't be able to get rid of the thought of Genya while talking to you, so that's how he reacts, as if he's talking to Genya.

Over time, he loosens up and begins to talk to you more often.

Kyōjurō Rengoku ;; The Flame Hashira

Your first meeting with Kyōjurō is very, very loud.

You might think you're deaf for a few hours afterwards.

He will bring you food entirely unwarranted, you have zero (0) choice in the matter.

He'll also ask if you'd like to eat with him, which you do have a choice in the matter there.

He's a rather silent eater, besides the occasional "Umai!" after every bite.

If you'd like to have a conversation with him, he can talk about anything and everything, and is always willing to.

You tend to remind him of Senjuro from time to time, and when it happens, the widest smile appears on his face.

Shinobu Kochō ;; The Insect Hashira

Shinobu is very sweet towards you, especially when you first meet her.

You remind her of Kanao, in a sense.

If you manage to grow close to her, in some way, she may let her guard down here and there.

She'll never fully let down her guard around you, because she knows you're a kid, and you don't need to know the truths of her life.

She makes it known, very often, that if you ever get injured, she's willing to patch you up, good as new.

No matter how bad the wound is.

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Eleven

— Little Big Schooldays

Series Masterlist

wc: 2k

The last few days felt like a dream, one that you never wanted to wake up from.

Every morning after your date night, Max would come over with a coffee for you and a doughnut for your daughter. Then, he'd greet you with a kiss before entering your home. "Hm, I could get used to that," you told him, already having a great start to the day.

However, your morning didn't start like that today. Instead of you, Max was greeted by Isabella. "Good morning, princess," he ruffled her hair until she slapped his hands away—a moment they always shared whenever they met.

"This is for you," he passed her the doughnut. Isabella excitedly took it out of the wrapper, thanking him as soon as she took a bite.

"Maxy," she began and he turned to face her, "yes?" She chuckled before she even got the words out, "why do you come over everyday?"

Max frowned, "do you not like it?" He asked, but Isabella shook her head quickly, "I mean, why don't me, you and mama have a sleepover instead?"

"You want me to stay over?" he asked, smiling. He wanted clarification, even though he knew what she meant. Unbeknownst to her, his heart was bursting with happiness. Although the dynamics between him and Isabella remained the same after you began dating Max—mostly because she didn't know of it yet—he was extremely concerned about Isabella's reaction to him. So knowing she liked him now gave him hope that she would still want him around after you reveal the relationship.

Isabella nodded, "yes! We will have so much fun." He nodded along with her, "we can ask your mom later."

Max noticed your absence in the room, "speaking of, where's your mama?" He asked your daughter.

"She's working in her office," Isabella spoke, sitting on the couch to savour her doughnut.

Knowing his way around your house now, Max found you working away in your office with your head buried in paperwork.

He knocked on the doorframe to grab your attention since the door itself was open and he was met with a tired smile from you. "Is it morning already?" You questioned as he rounded the desk, and you were too tired to stand up so he crouched down and wrapped his arms around you.

You reached up as much as you could to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "Have you been working all night?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled as his head rested in the crook of your neck.

Parting away, you shrugged, eyeing the two empty cans of energy drinks on the floor. Technically, it was Max's fault that you had to keep a stock of it at home. Grazing your cheek with his thumb, he sighed, "you need to go to sleep right now."

You pulled away entirely, turning your chair to face your laptop and began typing away again. "I can't, I have so much to do," you shook your head as you spoke.

Max muttered your name, "c'mon, let's go to bed," he suggested and when you stopped typing, he assumed that you'd agree.

Noticing the time, you gasped, "I have to get Bella ready for school!" A yawn left your mouth as you spoke, and Max immediately knew right then that he had to get you to your room as soon as possible.

He grasped on to the back of your chair, dragging it away from the desk so you could no longer touch any keys on the laptop nor any papers. "Max!" You exclaimed, trying to reach something to stop moving but he made a sound of protest. "No ma'am, you are going to bed right now."

You didn't stop trying to convince him otherwise by listing out all the tasks you had to do for the day but he didn't budge. "You need energy to do those tasks and that is exactly why you need to rest," he finalized, stopping the chair once it was right next to your bed.

"What about Isabella?" You asked, and Max didn't even hesitate for a moment before replying, "I'll drop her to school."

He looked at you with a pointed gaze, gesturing for you to move from the chair to the bed, and you huffed before complying. "What about her breakfast and lunch? Oh and her hair too," you stressed, wanting to get up and continue your usual morning routine.

Max, however, pulled the blanket up to your shoulders and pressed his lips against yours to quiet down all the thoughts running through your mind. "Like I said, I'll do it," he stated after parting away.

"Will you come back after?" Looking at your face, Max desperately wanted to stay, but he was also looking forward to his new responsibilities. "Of course."

You called out his name as he turned to leave, but a yawn interrupted your words. With a tired smile on your face, you muttered, "thank you."

Walking back downstairs, Max called out to Isabella. "You're going to have to help me out here, I'm taking you to school today." She perked up once she heard his words, although with confusion taking over her expressions. "Why, what happened to mama?"

Max headed towards the kitchen with Isabella right on his tail. "Your mama is very tired so we��re going to let her sleep," he told her. He watched as Isabella thought for a moment before shrugging, "okay."

"Great, I'll make breakfast, you go change," he suggested and earned a nod from the little girl. "Are you going to do my hair?" She asked before walking backwards towards the stairs. "I'll try," he spoke truthfully and shrugged, making Isabella laugh.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Max called out since she had already begun climbing the stairs. "Pancakes!" He heard her yell back in response.

Then it was quiet. Max sighed, looking around the kitchen, "pancakes, okay, you can do this."

Fortunately, he knew a recipe from one of his friends, and began preparing the ingredients. In the process, his phone buzzed with a text, from you. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

He sighed, almost chuckling at your persistence. "This is the one and only time I don't want you to text me. Go to sleep"

He was relieved that he had not received any messages after that, and he resumed mixing the pancake batter. The first few pancakes were crispier than usual, and were nowhere near the proper shape. He placed it away on his plate and tried again to cook up appealing ones for Isabella.

Isabella tiptoed downstairs to avoid waking you up. "Look, Maxy," she twirled to show off the outfit she was wearing. "Very nice, princess," Max commented.

Fortunately, you had already chosen her outfit the night before, which made it easier for her to get dressed this morning. "Can you make two braids for me?"

Max paused his actions and looked at her with a wide eyed expression, "two braids?"

Isabella sat up on the bar stool, placing down the items she held in her hand on the countertop. It included various clips, bows, hair ties, and a comb. She brought everything down that you usually used in her hair to make it easier for Max.

She had no idea, however, that the poor guy was trying to figure out how to make not one, but two braids. He was mostly used to his nephews, and even then when they cried, he'd hand them over to his sister. Despite having a younger sister, he has never learnt anything about hairstyles or other such things surprisingly.

That made him realize he wanted to learn, albeit not right away, but he did want to learn all the basic skills for situations such as this.

"I can make a normal ponytail?" He suggested instead, and Isabella thought for a moment before responding with another question, "will you still add the clips?"

"Of course!" He could do that, it shouldn't be too hard. She nodded in agreement, and Max placed the plate stacked with pancakes doused in maple syrup in front of her.

As Isabella ate, Max packed her lunch. Truthfully, he was scrambling around, glancing at the clock every few seconds to ensure that he wasn't running late.

"Maxy?" Isabella started, a small pout forming on her lips. "Do I have to go to school today?"

"Do you have a good reason to not go?" Max countered, debating whether he should agree with her or not. "I'm tired," she stated or more so questioned and Max had to stop himself to chuckling.

"I think you're lying, Bella," Max decided and Isabella sighed loudly, "but why do I have to go today?"

"Your mama will think that I can't follow instructions to send you to school," he spoke truthfully. That caused Isabella to chuckle, "are you going to get in trouble?"

"If you don't go, yes," he nodded. "Okay, then I'll go."

It took Max three tries to make a ponytail before Isabella was satisfied with the result. The first time it was too bumpy, and the second time it was pulled too tight.

He scattered a few clips in her hair, and once she looked in the mirror and held a thumbs up in response, Max felt like he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He buckled Isabella into the car seat after making sure she had everything she needed. In order to avoid problems in the future, he had recently purchased a carseat fit for a six year old to put in his car.

"Are you gonna drive fast?" Isabella asked, and Max glanced at her through the mirror with a grin. He didn't reply; instead, he quickly accelerated and saw the cheerful delight light up her face. Granted that he had prioritized their safety, it is evident that he wasn't speeding up excessively but it was still fast enough for Isabella.

Isabella guided Max toward the main entrance while she held his hand, primarily to ensure he wouldn't be left behind. A teacher stood by the door, holding it for all the students entering. Once she spotted Isabella and Max, she smiled brightly.

"Good morning, Miss," Isabella greeted, but her teacher's gaze was only on Max. "Good morning, I have never seen you here before," the teacher told him, introducing herself.

Isabella stood there with crossed arms, watching how Max shuffled closer to the little girl as he spoke to the teacher. "Maxy," she interrupted, immediately gaining his attention.

She extended her arms for a hug, and an attempt to bring an end to the conversation. He crouched and placed his arms around her. "I don't like her," Isabella said, eliciting a chuckle from him.

"I'll see you soon, Bella," Max stated, and watched the teacher lead her inside the school. "Let's go Bella," he could hear the teacher's words but Isabella's response surprised him even further. "My name is Isabella, only the people I like can call me Bella."

Returning home, Max dashed upstairs to your bedroom as fast and quietly as possible, sighing in relief when he noticed you were still asleep. He paused for a moment, unsure whether to climb in or not. But then he recalled your conversation earlier in which you said that you wanted him to return, so he drew the blankets back on his side of the bed and settled down.

A few minutes later, you turned around to face him, eyes still closed but you rested your arm over his chest. "Thank you," you sleepily mumbled. He brushed his fingers through your hair, "you're welcome."

Max usually didn't take naps during the day, but with the cozy atmosphere in your room, he couldn't help but fall asleep with you in his arms.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

[lizbetlovesbyler]

my biggest personal byler proof is just how much they remind me of my first queer relationship before we started dating

queer characters are incredibly easy to fuck over, even without intention. often spelled out or intensely sexualised to prevent misunderstandings for a mostly heterosexual audience, queer storylines are exaggerated and thus become unrealistic.

stranger things doesn’t do that with its queer characters. take robin:

this scene is done beautifully. genuinely beautifully.

robin admits her feelings for tammy and how she locked them away, not just because tammy didn’t like her back, but because she is a queer girl in the 80s. her feelings are unnatural and unwelcome in hawkins.

steve’s acceptance of robin in this scene makes people forget how horrifically this could have ended:

As for Mike and Will

you don’t write a perfect representation of mutual teenage queer pining between childhood friends by accident.

queer pining is quiet and suppressed (especially for young people and ESPECIALLY in the 80s). It is unhealthy to suppress these feelings the way queer people tend to, it’s beyond the typical “secret crushes” straight people experience. queer pining can destroy people when they’re not supported.

through robins character, and wills arc in season four, we can see clearly the duffer brothers understand the nature of queer love, and wish to do it justice.

will ending up with some random last minute jock is unrealistic and does not do his character justice.

mike staying in an insecure relationship, constantly worried his girlfriend will grow out of him and leave him, rather than accepting will’s unconditional love for him, accepting his own love for will and letting himself be who he is, does not do his character justice.

even so, if they tried to set up byler in a way that would come across clear to the GA, it would, by default, become unrealistic and unrepresentative.

neither are yet able to admit to close friends and family they are queer, but they are supposed to convey that part of themselves to an (understandably) dense/heteronormative mainstream audience?

queer teenage love is not the same as straight teenage love, it doesn’t shock me that the majority of the audience isn’t able to pick up on byler beyond wills feelings, and they’re not supposed to.

we all say what we see, they don’t see the queer love brewing because they’ve never experienced it, they’ve never been mike and they’ve never been will. they’ve been max and lucas and nancy, steve, jonathan, etc etc

doesn’t make their heteronormative perspective accurate, they are just straight. they understand will and mike the same they do lucas and dustin. mike says they are friends, they have no reason to think otherwise. they do not know what queer love actually looks like, the duffer brothers do. the actors do. we do.

you are not delusional. you are queer.

if byler was widely agreed upon at this point in the story, it would not be an accurate representation of queer romance. that is the point.

my moneys on the latter and they better get every award for it.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Okay,, you have to let us know are the eggs any characters Specifically like megumi or itadori? I bet they would be clingy mommas boys.

Love you crumbs you give us and happy late birthday 🫶🏻

awww ty bestie okay okay okay holdonholdon

You'd name the hatchlings. Idk if I mentioned this or not but in the excerpt, the reader names Suguru and Satoru cuz they didn't have a concept of language yet. I think once they had a general concept of human language, they'd use their human names for each other just like you do.

When Nobara, Yuji and Megumi hatch, they'd definitely hang onto you the most. It's mostly because you are the most caring out of the throuple you were forced into. It makes sense for you to care about them, right? After all, human babies are pretty helpless and that's how far your knowledge extends. And they're adorable, with big round eyes, making cute little chitters. You get a tiny bit protective of them, especially considering the other two nagas don't carry the same sentiment. Suguru is clearly a believer of tough love and you've caught Satoru trying to put one of the eggs in his mouth (you're pretty sure he was joking...but you arent risking it when they're this tiny). They're small right now, but naga hatchlings grow up fast. They're practically your height in just a couple of years.

I feel personally, Yuji would be the (most outwardly) clingiest. He's affectionate, more dog than snake, sometimes. He's the largest of his siblings. When he was smaller, his favorite thing to do was wrap himself around your shoulders and you'd carry him around. He can't do that now, but he has other ways of spending time with you. He 'hunts' with you the most, assisting you with collecting berries and fruit. Apart from you, he'd bond with Satoru more. They share a similar personality, both are easily amused.

Megumi would be the shyest, but he loves you just as much as his siblings do. Much like his fathers, he enjoys the warmth you provide and would love cuddling with you in the languid hours of the evening. He doesn't do that much when he's older, but he's still interested in spending time with you! He likes quality time, the most. Eventually, during your time on the island, you'd have set up a tiny garden. He'd help with that. He and Suguru would have lots of similarities, so you'd often catch them together. They'd both help with your garden, helping cultivate the seeds and soil. It's not natural for them, but they understand you're different from nagafolk

But I think Nobara would be the one you're the closest to. She hatched the first. She's also different from her brothers. Again, in the naga species, the females become something akin to sirens. Slowly, you'd notice how different she is compared to her brothers, how much she enjoys the water, how dry her skin gets when she stays on land for too long. She'd evolve differently. Webbed hands, her tail would be more lithe, finned.

Because she's so different, Satoru and Suguru don't have much of an interest in her. Again, much like reptiles, nagas are fairly independent at a young age. Satoru and Suguru allow the hatchlings to stick around because you'd pitch a fit otherwise and they try to keep their mate happy. Once it becomes clear Nobara is aquatically gifted, you'd be terrified of the thought of her being out alone at sea, so you'd often go out with her, not caring how pruny your fingers get. Because of how much time you spend with her, I think she'd be the most interested in humans. She'd ask you about human culture, human customs. Every once in a while, she'd go out and collect remnants of humanity, clothes, trinkets, jewelry, anything she can find off the ocean floor. She'd sit on the rocky shore, holding out each one, demanding you to explain them to her.

You wouldn't dare mention how much you fear her fathers, but I feel Nobara would be the first to realize that you don't want to be here. She can see it in your eyes, the longing whenever you're explaining another human trinket. She wants you to be happy, but if you go back to the humans....would you still have time for her? Would you still braid her hair? Take care of her? Love her?

In the end, Nobara is the most similar to her fathers. She'd keep you on the island too.

ughhhhhh i should just write that chaptered naga fic already this is getting ridiculous.