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#how am i supposed to be your friend if you don't even talk to me
a-b-riddle · 17 hours
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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girlgenius1111 · 2 days
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hallmarks of sisterhood
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putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.
-------
Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you. 
It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked. 
As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily. 
All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could. 
-------
“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister. 
“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.
“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.” 
Alba flushed red with anger. 
“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind. 
“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”
“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?” 
“You are such a-”
“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room. 
“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed. 
“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending. 
“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted. 
“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter. 
When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried. 
Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.” 
“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”
“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.  
“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl. 
“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit. 
“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.
“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-” 
It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped. 
“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly. 
“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you. 
You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously. 
They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument. 
You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 
You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong. 
------
You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often. 
Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock. 
Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.
“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.” 
“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer. 
“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos. 
“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go. 
“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile. 
“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room. 
“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics. 
“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it. 
As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up. 
If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so. 
This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you. 
------
The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument. 
You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this. 
If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it. 
You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope. 
Alexia had responded first. 
It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.
Alba responded after that. 
You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.
You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.
-------
You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today. 
You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later. 
You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later. 
“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder. 
You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible. 
“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. 
You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.” 
“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look. 
“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.” 
Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.” 
You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus  on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.
-------
You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included. 
That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall. 
The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image. 
You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 
You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous. 
You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically. 
You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful. 
You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song. 
More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters. 
Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly. 
You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her. 
They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.
 You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation. 
“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face. 
“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?” 
You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters. 
Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck! 
Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.
You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come. 
A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt. 
“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly. 
“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head. 
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.” 
You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others. 
-------
Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right. 
She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face. 
“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly. 
Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?” 
Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.” 
Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset. 
“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.” 
Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.” 
Eli chuckled. “I will.” 
She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that. 
-------
You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you. 
“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed. 
“I know, mija, I am so sorry.” 
“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.” 
Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t. 
-------
It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life. 
Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.
“Mami, I-”
“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.” 
“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach. 
“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”
“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.” 
“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were. 
“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life. 
Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it. 
Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you. 
--------
Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch. 
Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?” 
Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba. 
It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said. 
“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister. 
“We really did.” Alba replied. 
“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared. 
“We really do.” Alba agreed. 
“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?” 
“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face. 
Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.” 
“New car?” 
“New house?”
“Can we buy her a country?”
They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior. 
-------
The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset. 
You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face. 
“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently. 
“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged. 
“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you. 
Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands. 
“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them. 
“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?” 
“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this. 
“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly. 
“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?” 
Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her. 
“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped. 
Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that. 
“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.” 
Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?” 
“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse. 
“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety. 
“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’” 
“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head. 
“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.” 
At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot. 
“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer. 
With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.” 
Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore. 
“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments. 
Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work. 
-------
Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in. 
Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself. 
“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?” 
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face. 
Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Do you think that is enough?” You asked. 
Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.” 
Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway. 
“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight. 
It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you. 
“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you. 
You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting. 
You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears. 
Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters. 
Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot. 
Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed. 
Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you. 
It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special. 
You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself. 
You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught. 
“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other. 
They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction. 
“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 
Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered. 
“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”  
And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be. 
When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands. 
It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get. 
-------
Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands. 
And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted. 
“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands. 
“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.” 
Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded. 
“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly. 
“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it. 
“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.” 
“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-” 
Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit. 
“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.” 
Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed. 
Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be. 
-------
it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.
everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.
hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.
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saintmuses · 1 day
Text
❝𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚❞
Pairing:
Soft!Dark!Neil Lewis x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary:
Neil had spent all night watching his girlfriend unintentionally flirted with Jonathan, and he couldn’t stand it.
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Warning(s): SMUT. Non-con/Dub-con (at the end). Both POVs. P in V. Forced breeding kink. Jealous!Neil like he is irrational. Soft!Dark!Neil. Daddy kink (so sorry). Minors, dni! Note: the reader is coquette, but only in clothing aesthetic aspect because she is shy.
Word Count: 3.2k
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When the store was finally locked and the street was quiet, Neil took her hand in his, making a beeline for his house.
They barely spoke as they walked. Every few minutes, he gave a suspicious glare at Y/N, but he was trying to hold in his anger.
Finally, they got to his place, and he dragged her inside with a firm grip. He was waiting for the right time to let out all of his emotions. 
And he might just do that tonight.
“Neil?” She questioned him. she eluded innocence, and it was in the way of how she talked or how she acted. Always blushing and always stuttering. It was what made him attracted to her, gorgeous girl in pretty baby doll dresses and milk maid tops with skirts or cute jeans. He was rarely angry with her which was why he knew she was profoundly confused by his behavior.
Neil didn't answer her question. Instead, he slammed the door behind them, and with one swift motion, pinned her against the wall in the foyer by the stairs.
He pressed his nose almost aggressively against hers, his eyes narrowing, his lips curling into a snarl. "I saw everything," he hissed. "You were getting too close with him, weren't you?"
All his insecurities and jealousy finally bubbled to the surface, making him feel angrier than he had ever been. He had felt like Jonathan was better looking than him. "Were you guys intimate with each other?"
“Never!” She gasped, looking into his eyes because he was so close to her face, with his nose pressing against hers. She was confused on why he would ask that. She never even had sex with anyone until she met Neil. 
"I don't believe you," Neil snapped at her. "You spent so much time with him, and you had so much in common. How am I supposed to believe you two were never intimate with each other?" He pointed out, accusation coated his tone as he curled his fingers into his palms, gritting his teeth. "I'm your boyfriend, not him," he spat. "And you better not forget that."
“Friends can have a lot of things in common and not be intimate!” She argued softly, eyes widening. Realizing he took a step back, she was able to move past him, down the hallway towards his bedroom.
He knew that was true, friends can have a lot of things in common, but he was beyond rational to think straight. Especially at his thought filled with his fear of losing her.
"Don't you walk away from me!" Neil shouted at her while grabbing her wrist and pulled her towards him. As she was in front of him, he immediately latched onto her waist, refusing to let her go, “look at me when I talk to you.” He hissed with a warning in his gaze, waiting until she was looking at him. “I know you two wanted to be intimate with each other. I can tell just by looking at him and that's what he wants." His grip was beginning to tighten around her waist, his icy eyes staring at her with pure rage.
Her eyes began to widen, him shouting at her with “don’t you walk away from me” and “look at me when I talk to you” had made her tremble slightly in sheer arousal and she didn’t know why it made her wet, but she wasn’t going to let him know at all. She wasn’t even afraid of him either. She didn’t say anything to him, but just staring up at him. Then she managed to slip from his grip and entered his bedroom.
Neil was taken aback when he suddenly felt her slip out of his grip. It was almost like a jolt of adrenaline because it only pissed him off more. He wasn't about to let her get away that easily.
He moved quickly, following her behind as he entered the bedroom and forcefully grabbed her by her waist, and dragged her back to face him. "Don't you ignore me," he said harshly.
His tone is making her thighs feel slightly slick as she grew aroused, it was a good thing he was too angry to see how wet she is from his actions and his tone.
“Stop,” she whispered, hoping he would calm down so she could stop feeling aroused. She did not understand why she felt aroused when he was acting like this.
"I'm not going to let this go, you hear me!?" Neil’s voice raised as if he couldn’t control himself. "You're with me, and no one else. Is that clear?"
His heart was racing, and his mind was on fire and filled with green ooze of jealousy. She was his and there was no way he would let her see other men, that included his friend.
He squeezed her waist even tighter, making her feel uncomfortable. "Look at me! Or do I need to do something to get your attention?"
“I can’t look at you,” she huffed slightly with a soft noise in her voice, looking away from him to the side.
Neil was frustrated; she just had to make things difficult for him, didn't she? "Don't you dare look away." He grabbed her chin with his fingers and forcefully turned her to face him. "What did I tell you? Look at me."
Her eyes hadn’t met his which only served him with increasing rage. His face contorted into a snarl, and the veins on his neck were prominent from how enraged he was. "Look into my eyes!"
“I can’t!” She burst out with a soft whine, refusing to look at him. In response, he settled for releasing her waist, then immediately grappling for her wrist instead.
"Why not?" He demanded, his grip on her wrist tightening even more as anger overwhelmed him. "Is it because I'm too scary and intimidating for you?” He asked, with a tone dripping with sarcasm. "Is it because you know you're guilty of wanting to be intimate with Jonathan?" He was so angry that he wanted to tear something apart. "Stop ignoring me and look at me!"
The biggest mistake was listening to him because when she looked at him and she was purely sopping wet. With a frustrated cry, her free hand latched onto his hand that wasn’t holding her wrist and dragged his fingers under her dress and into her underwear to feel her wetness to reveal how hot and bothered she was over his behavior. As soon she pushed his fingers and felt them touching her cunt, “daddy!” She cried out, and it was the first time she ever called him that.
Neil’s eyes darkened; his breath got caught in his throat as soon as he heard her say the word “daddy”.
All of the emotions vanished in that moment, his anger and jealousy were gone. His heart was pounding, his thoughts racing. He was still holding her by the wrist, and yet…he couldn’t feel any other emotion. 
He was just stunned. All he could see was her, and all he could feel was her cunt.
She mewled and began to rut her hips onto his hand. “Daddy, please.” She gasped, begging as her fingers tightened around his.
Neil inhaled sharply as he heard her desperate plea. It was as if he felt a switch go off in him. 
One second, he was wanting to argue with her, and the next he was completely taken over by this primal desire with a need to claim her. 
It was like she had activated some sort of animalistic instinct in him. 
“Daddy? You want daddy?” Neil asked in a breathless voice. His eyebrows were raised, his eyes darting back and forth between his wrist with the hand that disappeared into her dress and her face.
“Yes,” she nodded vigorously, eyes wide open in innocence and arousal.
Neil’s mind was clouded in lust. All of his thoughts were of this innocent and helplessly needy girl, calling him daddy. 
She was dripping with arousal, and all she wanted was him; the man that she loved. 
This was a dream come true to him.
He dropped her wrist that was still bounded in his hand, and ran his hand through her hair, looking deep into her eyes. "Call me that again."
“Daddy,” she said breathlessly.
Neil was completely consumed by desire, his mind racing, and his body trembling with excitement. He withdrew his fingers from her underwear. "Good girl."
He took her face in his hands and kissed her, pushing her against the wall and wrapping his arms around her. He was kissing her so passionately and aggressively, as if he needed a release, and she was the only one who could give it to him. 
The feeling was unlike anything he ever felt before. He wanted to consume her entirely.
“Oh,” she moaned into his devouring mouth.
Neil kept on kissing her, his hands running through her hair. He felt intoxicated by her scent, and her taste.
Her noises sent shivers down his body, driving his desire even higher. "You're so delicious." He sighed pathetically, he needed her, needed her more than anything in the entire world. He was obsessed with her.
“Daddy.” She mumbled inaudibly, reaching for his bulge through his jeans and gripping it desperately. He gasped into her mouth, huffing aggressively as he withdrew from her lips before picking her up and throwing her onto the bed.
Neil's primal instinct took over in that moment, and he was completely consumed by this sudden, violent lust. He kissed her even more fiercely, using his slim muscles to pin her down. 
He needed to taste her and touch her, to consume her. And she was the only one who could give him what he wanted. 
Her moans and whimpers sent shivers up his spine, his lust growing with every movement she made.
She gasped as he dragged her dress away from her body by the straps to reveal her bra and underwear, whimpering when he started to push down, rubbing his hard on against her bare stomach.
Neil's voice was raw and full of passion as he answered her moan, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "I love you. You're my good girl."
His lips pressed against her neck, his hands running through her hair. He was so intoxicated by the smell and taste of her. "I need you, baby."
His lips returned to her mouth, his tongue touching hers in the most intense kiss he'd ever experienced. "Call me daddy again,” he mumbled incoherently into her mouth.
“I love you too, daddy.”
Neil felt like his body was on fire, his emotions spinning out of control, and all he could do now was take her. "Good girl."
His jaw was straining the moment his tongue pressed deeper into her mouth, his lips devouring hers like he was starved. 
He kept on kissing her like he was trying to consume her. His hands were all over her body, caressing every single part of her skin.
He couldn’t think straight anymore. *"I need more.” His lust was growing with every second he spent touching her. He needed her. He wanted her.
She mewled when she felt him on her stomach, rubbing his bulge against her skin once again.
Neil felt like he was going crazy. He couldn’t handle the excitement any longer. 
He needed more. 
So, he maneuvered himself off her body and stood up from the bed and began to remove his clothes.
"Baby," Neil murmured the endearment softly, his voice dripping in excitement. He was staring right at her and her lips, her face, everything about her that made her perfect. 
His hands were already wrapping around her body as he returned to the bed, pulling her closer.
"Do you want me, baby?" He murmured the question as he got on top of her, straddling her hips.
She shuddered in pleasure when she felt his hot and heavy cock on top of her stomach, skin on skin. “Yes.” She moaned.
"Good girl."
That was all Neil could say at the moment. Any other words had failed him. He could think only of her, and her only.
Neil's hands ran through her hair as his body rubbed against hers, touching her in all the right places. His lips were kissing her all over, and he was taking his time in making sure she was feeling good.
He knew she loved the teasing, and he was going to give her exactly what she wanted.
She whimpered when he started grinding down on her stomach, feeling his thick cock dragging across her skin slightly as he pushed down his hips in a slight rocking motion.
Neil felt like he was in such a euphoric rush. He was completely consumed by the feeling of holding her in his arms, her body against his. She was his whole world right now, her every breath, her every heartbeat.
His kisses were gentle but firm and passionate. His hands were caressing her everywhere, but they were never too rough.
He was in love with her.
She whimpered when he touched her sensitive nipples, brushing his thumbs across them. Before releasing them so he could scoot backwards to get her dress and underwear off.
Neil's hands brushed against her body, and he was taking his time as his mouth was all over her neck, shoulders, and hands, and his hands kept running through her hair, caressing every inch of her. 
He was enjoying this so much that he was losing track of time. He didn't want this to end. He never wanted this to end. 
Neil was obsessed with this girl. His girl.
Then he finally placed himself between her legs, settling one of his arms next to her head and his other hand was sliding down between them.
Lifting her legs around his waist, “please daddy.” She begged quietly.
Neil's eyes widened at her words, and his breathing hitched in response. He wrapped his hand around his girth, aiming it at her pussy.
"Baby,” he cooed softly as his body was trembling in excitement. He was ready to take her. He took a sharp inhale, and then-
She’d let out a wail, in pleasure when he slammed his cock into her. Her hands scrambled to find something to hold onto, but she couldn’t.
Neil's eyes were filled with passion and lust. He was in a primal state, a state in which all he could feel and hear and see was her.
He started thrusting into her roughly. She moaned, and she felt her hands being grabbed by his and she felt relief. “Oh, daddy.” She breathed, feeling his cock dragging against her walls made her whine even louder. 
Neil huffed almost whiningly, feeling himself being consumed by lust. He couldn't hold back; he wanted her so badly. It was as if his blood was boiling with lust beyond his comprehension.
Neil's body was drenched in sweat, and his skin was flushed with a red tint. He was exhausted; exhausted from intense and relentless movements of pounding into her, feeling her tight pussy on his cock.
His heart was pounding, his lips were swollen, and his ears were ringing.
But he didn't want it to end. He wasn't done yet. He still wanted more.
He reached for her jaw with his fingers, and she gasped when he forced her mouth to open then she realized what he wanted her to do so she obeyed completely and closed her eyes in sheer pleasure when he’d spit in her mouth.
Neil was completely lost in a daze, his focus completely on her. In this moment, he felt unstoppable. 
He felt like nothing could stand in his way when it came to her. He was going to give her everything that she wanted, and he was going to do everything in his power to make her feel good. 
She was his, and no one was going to take her from him.
The pleasure of the climax finally washed over her, making her moan, and she could tell he was nearing his end as well due to the stuttering of his hips as his pace became irregular. Her lust-addled brain was clear when she realized he did not place a condom on his cock. “Neil, you-you need to pull out.” She whispered stammering, trying to push his torso away.
Neil was caught off-guard when she said that, breaking him from the haze he had been feeling for so long. He pulled away slightly, his breathing shaky and heart pounding out of his chest.
He stared into her eyes, panting slightly before shaking his head. "No." That was all he could say, his voice sounding hoarse and rough. "I'm not pulling out."
She looked at him with wide eyes as panic filled in her irises, “I’m not on birth control! You have to pull out before you could get me pregnant.”
"I don't care."
The words left Neil’s mouth before he even had time to think them through. He felt a sudden wave of lust and passion wash over him, and he couldn’t resist the feeling as he started slamming his hips into her, shoving his cock back and forth in her pussy.
Neil was completely and utterly lost in a daze, and all he could think about was her. He couldn’t think about consequences right now, he was just following his instincts. "I don’t care." He repeated again, his voice shaky but loud. "I'm going to give you a baby.”
She was shaking her head, “Neil.” She begged, trying to push his abdomen away, trying to stop him.
"No." Neil said harshly, refusing to be pushed away as he gave a brutal thrust. "You're mine, and I'm keeping you. You don't get to leave." He sounded desperate and forceful as he pushed his body back against hers. "No one is going to take you away from me."
Neil was no longer in his own control; he was consumed by his desire and lust.
She tried really hard to get him to pull out, but the battle was lost. She threw her head back as her hands were dragged above her head by him to prevent her from pushing him away. “Neil.” She all but whined when he started adding more force behind his thrusts .
She felt him deeply as he held her against the mattress. She couldn’t even try to wiggle if she could because he had a tight grip on her, holding her down as he took her.
Neil was so lost in himself that he didn't hear her, not until it was already too late. Her voice sounded so distant to him, a faint noise in the back of his head. He couldn't hear anything but his heart beating in his ears, pumping in and out.
He felt desperate, and his movement grew more aggressive with every second. He wasn't in control anymore; he wasn't in control of himself. His only thought was to let himself go.
"No one will ever touch you again." He spat. "You're mine."
Neil felt like his world was collapsing, all his desires and lust being suddenly sucked away by the feeling of pleasure. Time stood still in that moment, his body moving uncontrollably in the most intense and deep release he had ever felt. 
His voice became nothing to a hoarse, broken “fuck.”
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The first time he went back --> Tamcien, ACOFAS
"Tamlin." Lucien's face was carefully neutral, his limbs loose, nothing in his scent or his body language giving away anything about how he felt to be standing before his once High Lord again.
"Lucien." Tamlin was relieved, at least, to see that his old friend had not adopted the Night Court fashion, opting for a blue and silver tunic instead. "I see you've been keeping this place clean in case I decided to come back," he said sarcastically. Then, there was a strong scent of rust and embers as Lucien began using his magic to move some things around. "There. At least it's somewhat livable now. Don't you have servants, Tamlin?"
Tamlin didn't fail to notice that Lucien called him by his full name rather than by his nickname. Lucien had called him Tam practically from the moment he'd arrived despite Tamlin's insistence that he show him the respect due of a High Lord, and decorum, blah blah blah. After some point, he stopped fighting it because he liked that Lucien had a special name only for him.
"Some. Most are too scared to question the state of the place. Many have left." Tamlin stared blankly at a wall. He had no fight left in him. All his anger had left him the moment he'd brought Rhysand back to life. There was no one left to be angry at. Nothing left to fight for.
Feyre had ruined him, and yet Tamlin had done that. Why? Why did he still love her? Why did it still hurt that she chose him? How long would she be able to hurt him?
As long as he loved her.
But how did he make it stop? How did he make this love go away, stop it from carving his heart out of his chest?
"You ignored me. After the war." That's what Lucien wanted to talk about? Surely he'd understood how painful it was to see him in Illyrian leathers, how painful it was to see him so quickly accepted as part of another group, how painful it was to see him away from him. For the longest time, Lucien had been his, and his alone. Now he had a mate and a whole other court and family. He wondered now if he had possibly taken Lucien for granted.
Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-
Little did either of them know how those words would turn out to be prophetic. Fitting, he supposed, with that seer mate of his.
"The sight of you in Illyrian leathers disgusted me," Tamlin replied dully. Lucien snorted. "What else was I to do? I didn't have anything else to wear; all my clothes were back here."
"You could've just stayed with me," Tamlin replied. A stupid thing to say, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Rhysand would never understand and appreciate Lucien's value like Tamlin could.
Lucien leaned back against a wall, putting his hands behind his head. "Right. And continue to watch you listen to the female who raped me over me, the person who not only loyally served you for centuries, but has connections to every damn court in Prythian. If I had a little more power, I could rule this whole damn place, I know so much."
Tamlin snarled. "Don't remind me of that. Believe me, I am well aware of my transgressions."
"Then surely you see why I had to leave. Even if my mate were not trapped in Night, your attitude would've eventually prompted me to leave."
My mate. The words sent shards of glass into his heart. "The mating bond is a curse," he rasped. It had to be. Why else would it mate his parents together, Rhysand's parents together, and his Feyre with Rhysand? Why would it mate Lucien with Elain, thus taking his Lucien away from him?
"The mating bond is a blessing from the Mother herself," Lucien insisted.
"Don't just blindly spit back the bullshit the temple taught you," Tamlin snapped. His claws emerged from beneath his skin, trembling rage filling his body. "God can offer us many beauties, sure, but we already know that She can also be cruel. Is it really so hard to believe that the mating bond is not what it's made out to be? Imagine a bond compelling you, forcing you to be with someone you don't want forever."
"Who said I don't want Elain?" Lucien whispered. Tamlin stilled. Those glass shards twisted in his heart a little bit more. "You think it's just a bond compelling me to stay with her? I thought you more intelligent than that, Tam." Tamlin squeezed his eyes shut, slumping against his chair. Heartbreak was all too familiar a feeling to him at this point.
"Look, Tamlin, I'm trying here," Lucien said, his voice sounding as though he were repressing some emotion. "I know it hurts, Tam. Please, let me help you. Don't push everyone away like you always do. Don't try to go it alone."
Tam.
As though drawn by a magnet, Tamlin's eyes lifted to Lucien's. The handsome lord stared at him with an earnestness that threatened to melt all that Tamlin was into nothing. He could never resist that soft look, and that wasn't about to change.
At last, he lost control. His shoulders caved in and he began to cry into his hands.
"Tam." Lucien closed the distance between them, kneeling before him. He placed his palms on Tamlin's cheeks, brushing away tears with his thumbs. "Don't cry," he murmured. "I'm here. I am here, I am with you."
Tamlin sniffed. "You should hate me."
His former emissary gently pulled him by the back of his head, pressing their foreheads together. "I know," he answered quietly. "But I don't."
He pulled away, offering a hand to stand up. "You look terrible, Tam. Have you been sleeping enough?"
Sighing, Tamlin shook his head. "Not really."
Lucien rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Go sleep, Tam."
Tamlin just crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. Lucien raised a brow at him, placing his hands on his hips. "Oh, I get it. You think because you're the High Lord, you can do whatever the hell you want. Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-"
The Spring Court lord grinned as the words sparked a far more pleasant memory of the two of them, leaping up in an instant. "As you wish, Lucien." The Autumn Court faerie smirked as he placed a hand on Tamlin's back, guiding him to the bedroom.
After tucking him in, Lucien was about to leave the room when Tamlin called out weakly, "Lu?"
He turned around, cocking his head. "Tam?"
Tamlin hesitated, a blush coming over his face. "Do you think- well could you...stay with me?"
Lucien sighed exasperatedly. "Just sleep, Tam."
"I can't. I've been trying for the past several days." Lucien took a deep breath, pinching his nose. "Fine. But don't expect to see me here when you get up."
"Ok." Lucien strode towards him and hopped onto the bed, leaning his head against the bedframe. Tamlin crawled towards him, placing his head on his lap. Lucien just scoffed.
"What are you, a six-year-old child?" he asked, but he ran his fingers through his blonde locks. Tamlin purred.
"After all this time, you still purr like a goddamn kitty cat whenever someone touches your hair," Lucien muttered, and those were the last words Tamlin heard before sleep overtook him at last.
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hel7l7 · 1 month
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you never tell me anything
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arohuacheng · 6 months
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imagining the story from pei ming's perspective is rlly funny i think. this god from all that time ago ascends again (you were there for the first two times) and immediately waltzes into a situation that fucks something up for your descendant (putting both of your reputations on the line, messing up how hard your descendant worked to become a god and how hard you worked to ensure that he would have that chance) and then refuses to let you smooth the situation out and on TOP of that your friend's little sister (who hates you and who you are trying to look out for by request of your friend) is on your case about it too. so you've gotta work all that out and then like. you chill for a little bit (still kind of upset about your descendant) until your friend undergoes a heavenly calamity. and then in the space of like A Day the god from earlier shows up again with a fucking ghost king, your friend dies, the little sister you're supposed to be looking out for disappears, and everything just kinda goes to shit. so you're like. grieving. trying to process everything. until your OTHER close friend goes off the fucking rails with the spirit of that guy she murdered, and then you get called out to the spooky ghost mountain where you're confronted with the girl whose death YOU were essentially responsible for and have never really come to terms with, and then like. you just kind of hang out with these gay people until everything resolves itself. fight some ghosts. fight the heavenly emperor. get your friend to stop being evil for a little while so she can fix the filing systems. and then you just have to keep being the god of love i guess
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muu-kun · 11 months
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#; ♡ ; okay to reblog#muu has admittedly been describing is self perceived melancholy and isolation regarding it#as being comparable to the circle drawn around Sadness in Inside Out due to others finding his emotions to be Too Much in capacity#and that as such he has thus been persistently trying to make himself very very small in spaces#so that maybe perhaps someone would soon be able to reside in the circle with him just until he gets to where he feels he is supposed to be#muu has also stated on numerous actions that while he is adamant about self healing he is not necessarily of preference#to not have the assistance of peers and their feedback and he tends he show it most predominantly in asking them to hear Everything#about himself in the form of the big box because one he wants assurances at the end of it all but also because he Has to be explaining#his processes of thought and general state of where he is now to people so that they may go Oh so that why you do the neurotic shit you do#but it really be hard out here when you don't know how to self advocate for a persistently emotionally present romantic partner#you don't really have any friends and you are either God awful at making new ones or you don't want to try for reasons of either#feeling scorned past close friends of yours have left time and time again OR#because you don't know what version of yourself is the Real one or the Good one or the Authentic one so you avoid socializing#until you can properly answer that dilemma but in turn you've left yourself with 1 person to seek out and talk to#but with that comes the existential dread of either a this person is also going to leave me or#b I am in fact so totally codependent on them that it isn't fair to be my sole research for assistance that I ought to fend for myself#but what do you even do to fend for yourself when you don't even know how to Advocate for yourself??#you devise a plan to shrink down and provide no indication to those around you that you are struggling with anything#that perhaps shriveling yourself down like that will allow for people to find you tolerable enough to be around#and that their presences will patch up every interpersonal wound in your system until eventually what you are faking has come true#; ♡ ; inner thoughts
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shoutzwastaken · 5 months
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ablednt · 2 years
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I think everyone needs at least one unassuming media they read way too much into and like it only counts if you sound absolutely insane talking about it like you Cannot Be Normal about it, mentally you’ve got all the characters and plot points pinned up on a wall and your putting all these strings around and it’s largely incoherent but makes sense To You.
#that's the tism media babey#mine is the mbs and dear god do i have os many thoughts about it#TLS wrote this cool kids book and probably was not trying to craft an anarchist epic about hashtag society but like how else am i supposed#to read it like take it at face value? not hype it up like it's 1000 times deeper than it probably actually is? hideous do not even jest#about such a thing/lh#i really am so autistic about this book though#I have mutliple copies and i can and will buy more eventually#my original copy i got when i was like 11 is literally missing its cover and its spine is deterioating#because i used it so much#this book literally raised me better than my parents ever did y'all don't UNDERSTAND#also i will say that I am almost CERTAIN the author is some level of not singlet#because well over 10 years after finishing the series#he came back and wrote a 4th book that's less of a standalone piece and more of an extended epilogue#and he was asked why now and he basically said "Kate would not leave me alone until I continued the story''#(for context kate is one of the mcs) so it's like wow ok thank you the kate fictive in the authors brain#same vibes as that 'we'll be done with this sonic game when the sonic in my brain approves'#also in said epilogue one of the characters when discussing aging is like#'your younger selves are still there inside you and you can talk to them when you want' adn i'm just HIOHADIFOG S I R#wait oh no im infodumping again in the tags when will it end/lh /pos#OH YEAH not only do I own multiple copies but I've bought and also gifted friends copies too#i am so fucking desperate to have someone to talk to who Gets It bc i dont rlly connect much with the fandom tbh#it's not bad or anything but most of them are just having a regular time which is fine but#im so fuckign autistic about this media besties i need it to be someone else's SI too so bad
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angelmeateater · 11 months
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god I need my appointment with the audiologist to come sooner 😞 I am literally loosing my ability to socialise
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horce-divorce · 2 years
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being ill has never not been isolating, to be clear, but I truly feel it's getting worse with time. It's never been so bad as it is now. And frankly idk what to do bc in the past id like join forums and groups and stuff but that's a thing of the past too. I joined some FB groups but it's not the same and I'm not going on FB just for that. I just don't know what to do
#me#idk if i can. talk to this friend anymore#we love each other very much and are rather important to each other#but i just. fuckin. cant do this#like his whole 'i deserve an abusive prick bc my feelings don't matter' thing is bad enough#theyve been traveling together and camping and doing all this fun shit that like#if i had someone who loved me enough to travel w me i could do that shit too but i don't and he knows i havent camped all fckn summer#he keeps sending me pics/vids of the camping trips and all these places i cant fucking go#and today it was vids from a big fuckin stadium concert. yhr likes of which ill never see again due to health.#my favorite band even.#i know that in his mind hes just sharing joyful things w someone he cares about. its sharing.#but idk regardless of intention it sure feels like rubbing it in on my end.#hey remember all those beauitful places you wanted to go that no one loves you enough to take you.#hey remember when you could be near a crowd and it wasnt a potentially life threatening event. remember concerts. remember dancing.#remember having people in your life who invited you places and took you to things instead of just showing you pictures after the fact.#how am i NOT supposed to be bitter about that.#so i just#say nothing#i say less and less over time and they find less things to send to me#and things drift apart#but it just keeps happening#even w some of the oldest and most solid friendships ive had#i have literally never in my life been so isolated and alone than i am right now#not even as a child before ever making friends. cus my parents were still invested in me back then.#prsnl
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inkskinned · 7 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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nobodybetterlookatme · 4 months
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Trying to figure out if I'm being crazy/petty or if I'm rightfully bitter and I'm not seeing my therapist for another two weeks so it'll remain a mystery lmao
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sol-flo · 4 months
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i'm going to destroy this damn phone
- the boss avoider
#long vent / rant on tags open at your own risk#straight up turned off my phone and put teams on do not disturb because i was TRYING TO WORK and kept getting interrupted by his whining#(he particularly said he needed me to work [read: be at the office. december 22.] while hindering my ability to do so !!!)#like the job is lame and boring and all but as much as i bitch about it i overall don't mind it that much#i was on a nice roll. think i finished this first website draft in record time (it's not very complicated but still. just 2 days)#and i stg i never have any problems with my project heads yknow. it's not a matter of being bad at receiving orders or w/e#and regardless of what he might say the communication problems are not on my end. bc again it doesn't happen w anyone else#i brought it up with him and he said 'well communication is a two way street you have to do it too' but tell me how can i talk to this man#i misunderstand a message he sends bc he never ever details what he wants even after i specifically asked him to yknow#tell me the whole information when he asks something of me#and then i respond based on the message i received and he goes 'well show me where i said that' FUCK YOU#he's always so passive aggressive about it all too#like if you say 'we have to look at the marketing materials to make new social media posts' and then. not tell me anything else#how am i supposed to know that there's a specific folder and you want me to take the text previously written and put it on new images#like that's a whole other sentence my guy you cannot be mad that i thought you wanted me to scour your social media and#make new posts whole cloth. fuck right off i have to put in my notice bc it's impossible to work under a man like this#like forgive me for the expression but he absolutely lacks leadership skills#if you're not good with people you should just delegate those parts to people who are and focus on reading about the metav3rse#GOD. i'll soon be sent to the seaside for my health (new years trip w my friends) but. i won't be on break at all so :grimace:#because there's that too. haven't had a single break except for holidays but like. only the DAY of the holiday#holiday on a thursday and you're expecting a nice four day weekend? well too bad get fucked you're working that friday#like jesus you're not providing anything so important you need to work your employees every legally allowed day of the year#just stop for the holidays! people won't die because someone's website has been delayed for two weeks!#to think i even considered learning frontend to branch my career options. i'm not stepping foot in a tech company again in my life#i mean there's still self important bosses everywhere. my friend's at a marketing agency and god knows the owner is crazy but#the grindset is gonna kill you and i won't let it kill me too.
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harrowharkwife · 1 year
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having an ableist #Autism Mommy narcissist for a mother never gets less tiresome/hurtful/infuriating/disappointing/just plan embarrassing, huh?
#will delete later don't rb#im just. sick and fucking tired of getting my feelings hurt#this is why i don't talk about her and this is why i can't handle dwelling on how bad of a mother she is.#it always just ends with me crying and feeling like a pathetic and unwanted and embarrassed little freak#some part of me is stuck being the weird little middle school version of me#who constantly felt sad and jealous and just. sad. whenever i went to friends houses or heard them talk about their moms.#because all my friends moms loved them. and all my friends were best friends with their moms.#and i never got to have that. and i never will. and it makes me so fucking jealous and envious and furious and just. sad#is the word for it really. just sad.#your mom is the one person on earth who's supposed to love you no matter what. and you're bombarded with that message as a kid#so if your mom doesn't love you... what's wrong with you?#i know NOW that that's not how it actually works & that it's not my fault & that it's her problem not mine#but. sometimes one stupid text from her will still just derail my whole day and suddenly I'm 12 years old again.#it is such a lonely and isolating feeling growing up as a girl who isn't best friends with her mom.#some part of me is always going to want to grovel and bend over backwards and disregard all my own emotions just to feel like she loves me.#or hell even LIKES me!#and i know it's not a healthy instinct and its one i need to fight and ignore for my own good. but like.#i just want my mom. :( and i just want her to be proud of me and like spending time with me and care about how i feel.#i want to feel safe going to her for help with things. or even just a hug when I'm sad. but i don't get to have that. and it sucks.#yes i AM watching b*ck b*gins what about it. anyway. sorry for having mommy issues on main. gonna go dig a hole and die in it now#the eternal struggle between standing up for myself vs jumping thru the hoops required to make my mom give a shit about me
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