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#i am actively feeling fucking horrid for needing to ask people for this
potionio · 1 year
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Emergency Vet Boosting
Alright so, I actually was doing everything in my fucking power to not have to do this- but I kind of am unable to do get around it now. Recently my dog has started to develop moments of muscle spasms and semi-seizure like moments where he is entirely present but his body is seemingly out of his control, the vet was originally not concerned bcs it'd happened twice and under two minutes.
However it has happened again since and we're looking at having to go to the vet, and while the insurance might cover things- we are looking at having to pay first obviously. I only get a very certain set amount of money each month and I just reasonably can't pay for the 400-500 dollar vet charges that are estimated to come my way. (My rent alone is 600 dollars, I'm on disability)
If possible whatsoever, It'd mean a great bit if people were able to donate something to help with the costs. I actively hate to do this but my boy needs blood tests done, possible urine sample and god knows what else and it's money i don't have.
My ko-fi is here . (https://ko-fi.com/archivistmaven)
And I should be posting some more kind of potential emergency commissions but I'll have to try and figure out how to get art done mid-depressive episode and all of this.
obligatory photo of my little lad being the cutie he is to show you he is the goodest little boy i promise
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chososdiscordkitten · 6 months
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life update:
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im still in a rut, recently there's been a lot of construction in mai house so I haven't been getting that much sleep :( added with the horrid smokers/tuburculosis cough I had, and still having to go to work, I have been completely drained of my energy, inspiration, and money.
it has been a week since Ive last posted, and I have no fucking clue when ill post again (im so so so sorry)
it also doesn't help that people have been very mean in my inbox, and I put my life on hold to maintain this account- only to not see much progress in growth (im such an attention whore, I know) and to get back such negative marks on my writing.
by no means am I saying I am leaving this account- no. I just need a lil sabbatical where I have the opportunity to go outside on my days off, and not stay home for the sheer reason of, "I have to write." because I felt guilty for spending my free time not writing.
and I think that's why I have been so drained- ive spent allll my weekends since November saying, "no I cant go out today- I have to finish this piece before tommorrow."
people have taken advantage of my eagerness to please- being so demanding of free content and not giving me feedback on it- why spend days in my inbox asking for a req and when I finally post it- not even a reblog or a comment? whatever.
this has turned into a rant I didn't mean for it to, SORRRRYYY
anyway. I am grateful for the people who are active in my inbox and my comments, I see y'all and I love y'all for making me feel like my writing isnt some lower quality version of another author on here.
because, yes ive been told that, that I am a less talented version of a popular author on here.
and me thinks, from how much effort ive put into my fics, time, sleep, ignoring my physical needs just because I didn't wanna disappoint strangers on the internet, isnt worth it if im just gonna be compared to others on here.
I chose this- I know I did. and I will continue to choose it. I love the lil community ive built with people who I fucking appreciate sooooo very much for how much they've offered to me.
I will be back, I promise I will. my brain just hasn't been braining recently.
ive said it before- I will never fully leave this acc because I love it sooooo much, so I wont. but just for a lil bit.
if u wanna keep interacting w/ me, I have a twt where I spam shit, here it is :D
if you've read this far- KISS ME. ty for supporting me nd reading my 'lesser' writing lmaoooo
from a sad cowboy who misses choso,
Ten.
(p.s) I hate my new shower head :(
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apoptoses · 1 year
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DA here and I just wanna say A FEW THINGS 💭
First of all I hope you're feeling better now! Read about you having a horrid week and my hear broke for you. Sending nothing but hugs, horses, kind words and the sweetest summer breeze your way🫂
Onto smuttier thoughts, I read the final chapter of Come Get Your Knife and I'm IN AWE of you as usual. Perfect ending to a perfect story. The pool scene was incredible and it reminded me of those pictures of people taking their very old dogs with arthritis for a swim and just holding them in the water while they have the most peaceful, trusting, loving expressions in their faces. That was Armand with his boy right there 🥹
Armand finally doing for Daniel what Marius couldn't do for him was nothing short of a healing experience. Also some of the best smut out there 🥵 The mirror, Armand coating his fingers with his blood and and putting them in Daniel's mouth 🥵🥵🥵, "faking" a real human orgasm and smearing Daniel's come on his own cock jfc. She NEVER misses.
My favorite bit: “Did you know there’s a rare songbird, and when people eat it they cover their faces with a cloth so as to hide the shame of their pleasure from God?” Armand murmured into Daniel’s back, voice just loud enough to be heard over the little wet gasps he dragged from Daniel every time he rolled his hips. “I should cover your face, Daniel. I should hide you from God so that he doesn’t see the pleasure you take in being fucked by a dead man.” INSANITY!!!! Also was this a Succession/Tomgreg reference (yk that scene at the restaurant) or am I just That person now? 😭 perfection either way.
Finally, I read your last ask abt that anon seeing Armand/Daniel hate all over town and lmao SO IT WASN'T JUST ME. I mean I'm not doing myself any favors here because I do check their tags constantly. I'm sadly like a rabid hound when it comes to them, sniffing around in search of good food and yeah most of the time the takes are rancid but other times I find one ☝️ good take and some amazing fanart and I tell myself it's all worth it dsfhsjfk. The way some ppl treat their extremely personal headcanons and projections as undeniable canon facts is nuts. Ship and let ship is my motto but damn some of the things I've seen... and I wouldn't blame the show per se, but the massive influx of fans that a mainstream tv show gave to an already existing fandom has been a contributing factor to what we're seeing imo, where very few people actually bother to read the source material (which is okay really, no one actually has to read the books and the show is almost nothing like the books anyway) and then start treating out of context quotes and scenes or headcanons or summaries of events they heard from a friend of a friend of a friend or plain incorrect takes as canon. it's like a bad (horrifyingly bad) game of telephone around here 🥴 wtvr tho it's literally fiction, and not that much of a big deal (someone tell them that tho lmaoo).
xoxo ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 
Dungeon anon, I wondered where you were ♥ Thank you for the kind words, things (seem to be) getting better.
lmao armand as an arthritic dog floating in the pool. It's accurate though, his old body needed a rest and I needed them to do something cute before the filth began. I feel like he would enjoy swimming, not for any particular reason. It's just a chill activity for him that he can do like any mortal.
listen i just needed them to fuck while daniel was still mortal and i was hellbent on making armand find a way to 'come' in daniel 😂 and tbh it's nastier for him to put daniel's own mess back inside him, daniel probably liked that better than he would anything armand's body could produce were he able to do the deed. it reminds him this is an artificial experience, it's not natural at all (and thus hotter)
and hell YEAH that is a wambsgans reference lmao i knew about orotolans long before succession but tom reminded me of them, and i just really wanted to write armand threatening to cover daniel's face from god (also it feels like something marius may have said to amadeo, and that armand would put his own twist on and later repeat), i couldn't pass up the opportunity.
see i have no courage to check the tags, i only trust what people i know reblog or the content of people who follow me 😂 i don't even wanna know what's out there.
but yeah, people do some WEIRD projecting, there's some weird head canons people insist are book canon fact (like guys daniel never did hard drugs on page in the books, not even once, the blood was his drug of choice lol but some people will go TO THE MAT and fight you about this like book!daniel was baby leo in basketball diaries, prostituting and railing heroin)
and the taking quotes out of context thing is way out of control. it's so easy for someone to screenshot some text on their ibooks app and then write whatever meta they want and then people who haven't read that book take it as gospel and just...it's very frustrating lol even the stuff from the vampire companion gets treated as gospel as that's a book written by FAN, it is FAN META with a few quotes from anne sprinkled in. ramsland calls armand a black hole who doesn't love anything and people take that as fact and just...no lol anne didn't write those words, those are ramsland's interpretation of the first five VC books circa 1991!
i'm lucky that everyone who likes the show who happens to follow me and read my fic has been outrageously nice, so i have no clue what happens in the more tumultuous waters of amc fandom lol but i really hope people give the books themselves a chance, even if only to read their blorbo's chapters because they're good and it's worth knowing the context in which things happened in them!
ANYWAYS DA, the fic you inspired me to write with armand learning dirty talk will be posted tomorrow, i hope you're hyped ♥
xoxo
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lonesuperhero · 6 months
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I had a funny thought while working on my "5 year plan" for a school assignment-
I wrote down something like "I'd want to take an early retirement, as soon as possible" but the funny bit is that i don't really give my gradual decay longer than 10-20 years
the average age that people retire in the US is 64. I don't expect to live past 35, give or take 5 years.
thats... that's like 20 years off, 20 years early.
its a funny thought of "what's the point of having goals if i wont live long enough to really see them through?"
i have no will to live; no will to fight to stay alive and fend off the decay that creeps through my body and my mind.
i've said it before, that i've simply stopped taking care of myself beyond the bare minimum to make my presence bearable and presentable for other people (aka forcing myself to shower and brush my teeth, etc etc, so i don't completely smell horrid or look like i crawled out of a literal hole)
i've honestly said "fuck it" to taking care of my mental health too at this point. im clinging to pieces that keep shattering over and over and over again because that's the bare minimum to keep me from actively committing suicide.
im just doing the bare minimum, and nothing more. because i just don't give a shit about myself anymore, im worthless! soon enough i will die and the memory of me will fade
and i am not blaming it, genuinely, but honestly, why should i be anything more than temporary when the one person i cared about wholeheartedly left me when i needed it most. when i was begging for communication and it was talking behind my back about our issues instead of bringing it up to my face.
I WAS GOING TO KILL MYSELF UNTIL IT GAVE ME PURPOSE AND I WAS SO FUCKING HAPPY, AND THEN IT RIPPED IT AWAY
i have no purpose
there's no longer a point in me being alive
sometimes i dont know why im still entertaining the thought
i dont know why i keep hoping it comes back soon
that i will wake up one morning will a message asking to talk or apologizing or just something.
because no matter how much i try to hate it, how much i try to say fuck it, i still love it. and i hate that i still love because it wasn't this hard to let go and forget my last FP
i miss it so much
i want it to come back
i want to have purpose again, i want to feel loved, i want to love
i want another chance to get things right
i hate myself
i hate me so much
i cant wait to kill myself
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ah-woo-ga · 7 months
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I was such an arsehole when I was younger.
The worst part is, I don’t know why. I bullied and was so horrid to the people who were the nicest. I messed with the people who were there for me, put em down, made em feel worthless.
All I want now, now I’m older and smarter and that version of me is almost 5 years dead. All I want now is to see those very same people, the ones who hate me for how I was then, even to this day.
I want to see them succeed. Succeed knowing I destroyed and changed them, for the worse.
I could apologise a million times, it’s never gonna be enough for my horrible, vile actions.
I just want to see Henna succeed. She deserved success and I destroyed part of her. I destroyed her kindness and compassion. Someone who was open, could talk about anything for hours, someone who actively cared about a lot of things.
I bullied and pushed and pretended until she gave up, and then when I started to realise after almost 3 years how much damage I was doing. It was too late, I’d destroyed not just our friendship but also our relationship, the relationships with those around me.
I craved control and power, and I tried anything to take it. I wanted to cause that damage. I wanted to see how far I could go knowing I could fix it at the time.
Turns out I couldn’t. Couldn’t fix it. Couldn’t change how I was acting and I got addicted to being angry and a wreck.
It’s only now I realise I hated my life, and those few good things I had, good friends, an amazing partner who really did love me.
I remember her trying to convince me to fly up to see her, how desperately, and how happily she would tell me “you could pay us back over time! I just want to see you.”
Imagine having someone willing to pay hundreds just to see you, to fly you across the world and see you because they really did love you.
I smoked weed heavily, and she’d worry. Ask me to stop, she’d say I need to quit because she genuinely worried what was happening in my head. To my health.
That’s someone who loves you.
But instead, here I am after waking up years later, still dreaming about my fuck ups years later.
It’s actually because of these events that I changed so much. I worked so hard to not be that person now. I was a dumb kid, 18-20. Literally a kid who knew better but it was like drugs, getting to lash out, getting to fuck my life up. Idk how to describe it, but it was genuinely so hard to just be nice.
I was addicted to this thought process that I’m constantly at war with people around me, I hated them for no reason because I believed they all hated me. I’d hate you as soon as I saw you.
I think somehow my brain just collapsed on itself one day. One day, randomly, I just started being a horrible person. I hated people forvtheir differences. For who they were, kind of for no reason.
Trans? I hate you. non-binary? I hated you more.
Gay? I’d bully you. Slightly Asian? I’d make racism jokes. Anything I’d turn into ammo to hurt you. Because, for some twisted reason, I found it funny to do that, as a joke to me.
But now? Now I work hard to put good back in the world. I hate hearing and seeing those same things I used to hurt others.
I refuse to talk down to others in any capacity. Not even as a joke because I don’t want to hurt anyone else like I hurt her.
I was a kid, I made mistakes, big huge crappy fuck ups. I was a kid. A kid who apparently was okay with hurting and destroying the few good relationships they had.
If I could turn back time, I’d fix everything. Change who I was and I’d have been kind. I’d have loved harder and been less of a jerk.
In my head, I destroyed that girl. That poor, amazing and kind girl got buried by a teenage me for fun and if I could I’d kill him for it.
So I did, I buried that bastard version of me and spent time making up for my Cuntiness because I wanted to respect that memory of the person I had, who I still care about.
I know full well I can’t take back what I did, so I am working towards what she wanted for me when she cared.
She wanted me to be kind. How do I know?
She asked me what happened to me when it started. I never gave her a straight answer when she asked why I was turning into that person.
So, I want to be like she wanted me to be: loving, kind, compassionate. Non-judgy and understanding and patient.
I truly believe right up until I cheated on her with her best friend, despite all my cuntiness. I believe she loved me still, even despite my horrible, disgusting, sick behaviour.
I believe she cared. She’d ask me to come see her, offer to pay when I was flat broke, she’d try and clean up my anxiety, which is partially what made me so messed up was that I was scared my whole life, and I didn’t want to be anymore. I thought making others scared, by being horrible was a fix. A fix for me, and it was for a time, but it destroyed me like a virus.
No, I shouldn’t blame my emotions. It was me, being weak and wanting to feel in control, I’ve never been more OUT of control in my life.
That’s why I spend my life now, every day, trying to love humans, others and myself healthily and with passion. Because nobody deserves to be treated like a dog like that.
She gave up so much to save me, tried so hard and I spat in henna’s face. So even to this day, years when I don’t think about it for months.
Every now and then I hope that she’s good, I think about who I am and what I did and I will never forget the horrors I put to that poor girl.
Apparently, me being this way is me being a pussy. No, I was extremely violent then, now I’m so anti-violence. I’m the opposite, now I just want to talk. Now, I just want to talk, apologise, express and figure out why I was the way I was because that behaviour didn’t just appear.
I was damaged, scared, in pain and weak both mentally and physically. I felt I had no place. I pushed that pain onto others who deserved only the best, like Henna and Stina.
People who cared and were there for me.
So this is for them, the people who tried when I wouldn’t.
I am genuinely thankful. I didn’t understand then, but I see now. I’m sorry it took years for me to become better, and fix myself. But I am infinitely better because of it.
It is unfair, I caused you both magnitudes of pain and upset. And now I get to be okay, so I hope you know that your sacrifice, even if you hate me, you gave me hope years after I threw it back at you.
A part of me wants you to know I might be a pussy if that’s what you want to call me, but you’d be proud.
You’d be so proud of me because although it’s too late to stop what I did and said to all of you. It was still those words and actions that I cast aside that pulled me back together, years later but still.
I truly hold love in my heart for you and all those I damaged along the way, you did not deserve the pain and hurt I gave you, and I would offer my apologies to you. But instead I offer the same words and help you offered to me:
I will always be here if you ever need me, even to shout at me for the pain and things that I did to you. I can’t make up for the pain I caused you, I can’t take it away. But I can make up for it, I can be there for you, I can stand beside you and tell you that despite how hard I tried to bring you down, hurt you, crush you into nothing. You have made me so proud, you have taught me so much from the past and I truly love you for saving me from myself.
I was an ignorant, horrid kid. this was my journey to becoming and understanding how to be better.
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actualbird · 3 years
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Heeeeeey pal it's Ida!
So I was thinking about Darius and how he's the only one with facial hair... (its a crime we can't romance Detective Morgan) and I was wondering... if the boys grew facial hair, what styles would each of them choose?
Its hard to imagine them with facial hair but it makes me wonder, especially if you have any idea :)
HI IDAAA!!!! :DDD it took me a sec to realize ur the same ida from twitter and not another person coincidentally also named ida KJBKS
okay so ur ask is worded in a way that implies that i should be thinking along the lines that facial hair is something the nxx boys are all capable of achieving but kjbkJBJFG MY THOUGHTS R HINGED ON THE FACT THAT ONLY SOME OF EM CAN ACTUALLY LIKE, MAKE IT HAPPEN.
that being said, lemme dive right into this
can the nxx boys grow facial hair? if yes, what style?
wc: 1.2k
disclaimer: im not putting pics of the facial hair styles in this post bc i dont wanna deal with that kind of gender envy kjfbgf. the names of the styles are in 'apostrophes' in the subheaders for ur own googling
luke pearce: he cant. full stop. in terms of tactile feel, this is a very smooth man.
im being mean to luke here, im fully aware, but hes SO GOOD at SO MANY STUPID "MASCULINE" ACTIVITIES. he can shoot guns, he can do action movie driving, hes deffo the most physically ripped out of all the boys, AND MANY MORE OTHER THINGS THAT DRIVE ME NUTS (affectionately), like. this shouldnt be allowed. there should be a LIMIT to how many societally masculine things a person should be able to do and do well. so no facial hair for luke pearce. cry me a fucking river, luke, this is called FAIRNESS.
so yep, not a single facial hair. it's slightly excruciating for him because it does NOT help his "AWWW LOOK AT THIS BABY FACED BOY" vibe. mc is never gonna stop pinching his cheeks and he doesnt even have any protection against it...
(...still, he figures maybe this isnt too much of a problem. afterall, if he had facial hair, he wouldnt be able to feel gentle touches to his face directly. and luke pearce? this dude Has to nuzzle into somebodys palm for his continued wellbeing. maybe this is for the better)
marius von hagen: he can but he doesnt like it so he shaves religiously.
marius can grow facial hair no problem which is a surprise since his dad looks like how he looks like (austin von hagen has never had a single facial hair, thats an absolute dolphin of a man, so aerodynamic) but MARIUS DOESNT LIKE IT.
it's a personal preference but he doesnt like how it's rough and how it messes with his "i am sexy hot gorgeous fae-like creature of mischief and beauty" vibes. so when marius detects even the slightest of stubble, the beginnings of a whatever-o'clock shadow, hes shaving!! bye bye!!!!
he does appreciate that facial hair is nice on other people, just not on him. he's been to art school. im sure marius has not only seen stupidly hot facial hair-d individuals, he's made out with a solid chunk of them as well. marius has to admit, getting stubble burn is kinda great! still, it's not something he's gonna be the one to give
vyn richter: he can and once hes comfortable changing up his twink doctor aesthetic, he goes for the 'Anchor Beard'.
like marius, vyn can grow facial hair no problem and shaves regularly though it's not that he doesnt like it it's just that...hes Very Comfortable with his current look and it seems like such a risky chore to change that up? his current look is great and it fits him and other people like it and GASP the danger of changing his aesthetic into something people MIGHT NOT LIKE?? MIGHT NOT FIND COOL AND HANDSOME AND WONDERFUL???? vyn would rather dig his own fucking grave
he'd need some coaxing perhaps from a lover or lovers that "Vyn, It's Okay To Change Ur Look If You Want To, If You Look Like Crap, It's Fine, The World Isn't Going To End." once he gets that through his equal parts horrid and hilarious brain, he'll go through a bunch of styles before settling on the anchor beard and variations of it. it's fresh and modern which a nice contrast from his usual archaic aesthetic.
(when marius sees vyn tho hes like "HAHA YOU LOOK LIKE A FUCKING MAGICIAN" and then the only thing you'll be able to hear after that is the screams of marius von hagen being hunted for sport, the sound getting further and further away)
artem wing: he can but he never lets it grow out and maybe thats alright maybe thats better for us because one time he did let it grow and then the entirety of stellis is suddenly SO MUCH MORE (DECENTLY) WHORISH IN HIS GENERAL VICINITY because the style he goes for is the Farmer’s Market Hot™ 'Short Full Beard'.
before i explain the latter terminology above, lemme first explain the first bit. artem can grow facial hair no problem but hes SUCH a stickler for formality and being prim and proper so actually having facial hair is something he never lets happen. he shaves regularly and IMPORTANT NOTE, hes shaving with a fucking STRAIGHT RAZOR (pictured below)
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rationalization: artem is old fashioned in very specific (and personally endearing) areas, like he prefers to handwrite with fountain pens in a largely paperless era. thats hot! yknow whats another old fashioned thing thats hot? STRAIGHT RAZORS!!!! hes whipping this out on the reg, pressing the exquisitely sharpened edge against the skin of his throat, dragging it with precise movements. if any poor soul watches artem shave, i wish that poor soul strength to not fuck him ON THE SPOT.
but yeah he doesnt let his facial hair grow but maybe one time he did (uhhh i cant think of a reason bc beards take 2-4 months to grow and lol, artem wing not at the office for 2-4 months? what happened, did themis law firm get sucked into a wormhole? just think of Some Kind Of Reason u like as to why he doesnt shave for a while) and. HM. WELL.
okay time define Farmer’s Market Hot™, a term i came across 6 years ago from this post by tofixtheshadows. the post reads:
"Farmer’s Market Hot is a wholesome kind of hot. Rugged but approachable. It’s not the kind of hot where you immediately go, “Oh my god they’re so perfect, I want to take them home and photograph them/tear their clothes off.” That’s for later. This is the kind of hot for people who would visit the farmer’s market to buy some organic cheeses on their way to pick up their kids from their Creativity Through Music class. It’s the look that says “I’m here to support our local beekeepers.” You see them and it makes you want to settle down. You want to do your taxes with them, raise dogs together."
when artem wing lets his facial hair grow, his beard is so hot, it makes him SO HOT which is unfair because HES ALREADY HOT but now hes walking around stellis in his soft fuckin sweater and going to the grocery very intently studying the fresh produce and his beard along with the rest of his vibes just makes everything about him scream "i will cook you breakfast in bed and it will taste exquisite and i care about the local ecosystem and gently put trespassing insects into a cup to release outside and i am SO GODDAMN MARRY-ABLE" and bros, if everybody wanted him before, they, impossibly, want him even more now
stellis would not be able to fucking cope. when artem shaves the beard off, a sigh of relief rumbles throughout the entire city.
all in all: artem wing won this post. it wasnt even a competition, but he won it.
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Sometimes I think I am... tired of things being turned constantly into "and here's the horrid side of things" when it comes to transgender joy.
What I mean by this is that I've seen this exchange many, many times on this website and others:
A trans person makes a trans joke. It's meant to alleviate tension, it's meant to be funny, its just meant to kind of have some fun. Or it's a positivity post, or a piece of artwork highlighting trans joy.
Someone inevitably comes on, reminding us that the world hates us. "And THIS is why the transphobes are wrong. They don't need to try and make you feel terrible for who you are. Good on you for sticking it to the transphobic assholes!"
Except... that wasn't what we were doing. We were just existing.
Especially posts about trans women with "reblog to make a transphobe cry" or something reblogged in the tags or below a very positive post.
Especially with trans men trying to be themselves and getting berated because "what about [other minorities that this post specifically wasn't about because it was highlighting trans masculine joy]?"
Especially with nonbinary people posting about how we can look like anything, or an outfit that we like and getting comments like "you're breaking gender stereotypes and making cis people upset, go you"
Can we just... HAVE our joy for once? Uninterrupted? Without being reminded that our existence is forced to be a political statement because the world won't get with the fuckong program already?
I just want to be happy about it for once and enjoy myself as a trans person, enjoy my experience, without 50 billion people calling me a statement. Yes, those comments have their place, and there are so many posts and thinkpieces about gender, and how it is and how it affects the trans experience.
But can we PLEASE stop doing that on posts that are just us trans people having fun? Or enjoying life? Enjoying our bodies and fashion and whatnot?
I am so tired of everything I do being a statement sometimes. Maybe I just wanna lie in the sun and take a nap without someone reminding me the world hates me. Is that so much to ask?
It's okay to have those talking points. It's okay to talk about that stuff. But sometimes, I just wanna breathe and be me without having to remember the oppression I already face. I can't do activism 24/7, because I used to, and it burnt me out so fucking fast.
Let me have my moment, please. Let me take my breath.
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gravesightings · 4 years
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How would the slashers react to a serial killer s/o? Feisty, deadly and cunning. I am just so curious and also love your interpretation of them. ❤️👌
thanks so much! I’m glad. 💖
slashers reactions to: a serial killer s/o
Asa Emory / The Collector
chances are, he’s already done some investigating on you. depending on how far you’ve gone with him - it’s sink or swim.
if he cares about you enough he’ll risk introducing you to his collection. don’t expect too much though, as he would still prefer to work alone.
if you somehow use him in some way for your own goals, you’ll quickly find yourself being the newest addition to the collection, so try not to get any funny ideas.
would definitely feel like you’re walking on eggshells with him. he’s notoriously cautious so he might not be a fan of the idea of you walking the same path as him.
be extra domestic with him and he’ll eventually warm up to the idea. sweet-talk him, offer to wash his bloodied clothes along with yours and he just might start convincing himself that it doesn’t sound so bad after all.
Billy Lenz
if he found out before you even started dating - he's likely to save you for last just to observe how you really work. you’re dangerous and he doesn’t like that. (just pray he doesn’t end you in your sleep.)
or if you choose to drop the bomb on him mid-relationship, he’ll be shocked. is that why you’re so understanding? so patient with him?
if he happens to witness you killing, he’ll incorporate those in his obscene phone calls. maybe mumble it to himself sometimes as well.
compliments from billy! you’re not just a “regular piggy” anymore. smart piggy! pretty piggy! bloody piggy.
maybe it would be better if you don’t get in his way though. he tends to lose control when going after someone so he might hurt you by accident. likewise he won’t intercept you if you’re busy butchering someone.
god forbid someone goes after you, he’ll go beserk. if you save him from someone he’s not gonna thank you directly, instead just rest on you and compliment you some more.
Bo Sinclair
ah you’re hot but also fuck right off. ambrose is his territory and he’s not willing to share.
mid-relationship: he’ll be less trusting towards you. how long have you kept this from him, and why? what are you really after?
reassure him and earn that trust back again before he even lets you anywhere near his victims. the only way he’ll agree to work with you is if he’s the one calling the shots.
it’s pretty easy to fall into place once you’ve gotten used to his habits. he won’t admit it but it’s much easier to handle bigger groups with an extra pair of hands.
rage level increase! he’ll be especially violent towards anyone who takes a swing at you, only to snap back at you with “are you fuckin’ stupid? you could’ve gotten hurt!”
he’s actually much better at patching up wounds than vincent - and you better believe he’ll be patching you up before anybody else. (including himself) shut up, he already knows he’s bleeding and he doesn’t care.
Brahms Heelshire
another observant lad. like billy, he’ll take time to watch you very closely to see how you work. you’re his nanny and you kill too? hot.
it’ll be hard to keep secrets in such a huge house with very thin walls so you’re not likely to get away with this without him knowing. downside is it’ll take a much longer time for brahmsy to reveal himself.
kill for him and he’s yours to keep. usually it’s the other way around but now that he knows you’re capable, he’ll be a lot more laid-back. unless of course his jealousy gets the best of him.
still expects you to keep up with the list, however. there’s not really a lot of victims needing immediate attention so your first priority should always be him.
surprisingly helpful. he won’t feel the need to butcher anyone anymore (again, unless his jealousy acts up.) so he might actually give you a hand - just make sure to reward him properly for his efforts.
Bubba Sawyer
nervous bubby is hesitant to even go near you. sure he’s big and has a chainsaw but you look really good at what you do so he’s a bit scared.
mid-relationship: you’re a WHAT? gasps. actually, now that he thinks about it, that explains a lot. that’s okay he still loves you a whole lot!
quick to inform the entire family. hey everybody!! guess who has the coolest s/o ever?! he does! makes sure grandpa sawyer gets to see just how impressive you are. he’s so proud!
drayton’s undoubtedly going to hear about this so congrats! you’ve now levelled up to meat-wrangler, just like bubby. the whole family will be quick to accept you - no questions asked.
bubba still panics whenever you get hurt though! so maybe don’t get too carried away. he’s quick to make sure the tougher victims are taken care of first so they don’t hurt his precious s/o.
Jason Voorhees
big boy is THREATENED. why are you here and what do you want? please leave right now. though you do seem oddly nice for someone who just beheaded a guy at the dock.
mid-relationship: frozen in shock. his beloved s/o? the one that kisses him every morning? struggles to believe it. he might even refuse to accept it unless you have a good reason to do so.
he might be more accepting if you do it to protect yourself or as a way to rid the camp of trespassers. for him? he’s not sure how to feel about that.
very against the idea. bad people won’t think twice about hurting you. it doesn’t matter if you’re good at defending yourself or not - jason just doesn’t want strangers near you.
help him and he’s thankful, but he’s still gonna remind you to stay away from the trespassers as much as possible. 
but jason, you cry out - no no no, he taps your nose, don’t you worry your pretty little head. he’ll do all the protecting, thank you very much.
Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull
if you make it on the news chromey is going to know about you asap. he’s got all the proper sources so you won’t exactly be as well-hidden as you thought. as long as you don’t go for his targets, he’ll leave you be.
if you happen to cross paths with him and things turn romantic then that makes things much easier on him. he’s more likely to keep you around in the long run knowing you’re okay with the lifestyle.
fucked-up games? you bet. this man is always up to no good and often tries to one-up you. bet his body count is bigger than yours. yeah? do you want proof?
would be very willing to let you tag along and watch. just don’t interact with his victims. at all. he’s fiercely possessive to a point that he’s not above fucking you in front of them to prove a point.
he’s not gonna assist you during your activities unless you’re in mortal danger but he’s also known to stalk you during your escapades. what do you mean “what the fuck are you doing here?” he brought you flowers like a good boyfriend and this is how you greet him? rude!
Michael Myers
hmm hot. even if you don’t tell him he already would have known before approaching you. he’ll be apprehensive if you choose to keep secrets from him, especially if he knows about them already.
if you trust him enough to tell him about this he’ll appreciate your honesty and might keep you around longer. hm sure okay but he knows already. (he’s not about to tell you that though)
do your own thing and leave him be. he doesn’t really care. upside is he won’t have to worry about you being attacked because he knows you’re capable of defending yourself even without him.
but that doesn’t stop him from being petty and obsessive. bashes the already motionless corpse of the idiot that attacked you. he’s not gonna stop until they turn into paste.
he works alone. don’t even try to follow him. stop it. don’t you have other places to be? shoo. firmly carries you back to the house and locks you there.
Thomas Hewitt
is it bad that he finds you.... kinda hot? you handle yourself well but he’s also lowkey afraid of you.
mid-relationship: like jason, he has trouble accepting the fact that his darling would be capable of such a horrid thing. he’ll be okay with it if you do it for the hewitts or for your own protection. otherwise he’s not into it.
killing bad. please leave it to him instead, okay? he doesn’t want you getting hurt. he’ll insist to do all the butchering despite hoyt’s loud protests that you should be pulling your own weight.
go ahead and brush up on your convincing skills because it’s not impossible to persuade him. (unlike jason). you would need to earn your right to provide for the family.
the hewitts are quicker to accept you into the family once you’ve proven yourself. you’ll fit right in! tommy’s always going to be a worrywart though regardless of how good you actually are.
Vincent Sinclair
might actually target you first because you’re the most dangerous. he’s much less likely to trust you since you’ve killed before.
mid-relationship: tell him very early in the relationship otherwise he might not trust you again. he’ll be understanding regardless of your intentions. (unless of course if it’s to harm him or his brothers, then he’s troubled.)
mother hen vincent would also prefer you don’t help out with the victims. bo’s already a handful by himself and he’s confident that the three of them (along with lester) can manage.
but he’s not going to forbid you, per se. he’s not gonna go out of his way to stop you. just as long as you’re smart about it and you don’t get hurt, then you can carry on.
again, an extra pair of hands means less work for everybody involved so as much as bo bitches about how trusting you might come back to bite them in the ass, they’re appreciative of your efforts.
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thank you, i dont wanna pressure you into giving advice so if you dont want to please dont. also im kinda paranoid so if this sends off on anon please dont post it!! but it feels like nobody actively looks for me unless they need something from me, i dont have any friends in my life right now, i dropped all of them because they didnt listen to my feelings/they were just kinda bad to me, a while ago i dropped an ex who manipulated me and it hurts so much thinking about it, why doesnt he feel sorry? and if he does, why cant he hurt? why did i get used for character development its not fucking fair every friendship i have they get something out of me, they get the boost they need to start their next project and be successful its not fucking fair why do i have to self loath and theyre able to move on? why does it seem like everttime i find someone i love we get distant?? i know i cant stop that but it hurts, alot. if distance doesnt kill us i always get replaced, when am i going to find someone who loves me for me, not what i can offer them?? it feels like people only love me because they can use me for something i hate it why is it when i set boundaries im a bitch, why is it when i tell people something is uncomfortable i have to give an essay on why they should respect me. i feel so stuck like i keep comparing myself to others, why did i have to be so stupid in the past? i used to say slurs that werent mine 2 years ago to impress the friends that didnt care about me and i cant move on from it, why did i have to be so stupid? i cant handle people criticizing me, it feels like they hate me and theyre jealous, or am i jealous of them for being able to point out something?? i dont know
I'm sorry for not responding sooner, but in truth, this ask has been on my mind all day, and I've been wanting to approach this with some good words. You remind me a lot of my younger self, and I want you to know that you're lovely, and I'm sorry you've been surrounded by such horrid people!
I'll start off by saying that everyone (and I mean *everyone*) has done horribly embarrassing things to impress someone. Please don't beat yourself up over the slurs, because the best thing to do is to recognise you've said some horrible things, and if you've hurt anyone with those slurs, apologising to them is really good <3 . You know they're wrong, your message says as much, and I want you to know that wallowing in that isn't going to help you grow. Righting the wrongs and surrounding yourself with positive influences is best, because you've grown from who you were two years ago! And that's definitely for the best :)
When you said that people only seem to notice you if they want something from you, it made my heart pang. I'm so sorry you've been surrounded by these sorts of people, and I want you to know that there are people out there who will want to get to know you for who you are. They exist, and I understand your apprehension around people given how you've been treated, but I promise that they'll be safe to open up to. Sometimes it takes a change of scenery (school -> university, moving to a new town), sometimes a setting of boundaries, but when you find them, they'll be your friend through thick and thin. Heck, most of my closest friends I made when I moved cities for uni! They will come out, and they will find you <3 or perhaps you'll be in a safe place to put yourself out there!
Good for you on dropping those friends!!!! That sounds weird, but rest assured, it is far better to have no friends than friends who drain you, use you, and aren't really there for you. I'm sorry that you feel as if you're no more than a plot device in someone else's story... I wish I had a better way of wording that, but I do know that it will not be that way forever! Having a strong sense of identity and getting involved in things does help detract from that transience, but it's the people you're around just as much as yourself! I do hope you can find some lovely people soon <3
With your ex, I can tell you from experience that people who manipulate and use don't tend to feel things like being sorry, except for being sorry that you got away from them. They're not the norm. My dad's the same way... he's done some utterly atrocious things to his children, and yet feels a sense of entitlement to us, as opposed to apologetic. It genuinely does suck a lot when you see someone move on without so much as a tear, but it's not you; it's their lack of empathy. You're doing so well anon!!! and please don't let him, and all those stupid ex-friends, get you down!
Someone will love you for you. I don't know how old you are, but for some people it happens quickly, others it takes a while. The teenage years are filled with so much volatility in the way people love and forget, the twenties are a messy time of personal development, and I do know of some people who've had to wait until they're out of college before they even begin to meet people who see past the exterior and to their heart. That sounds so depressing (I'm sorry!!), but be assured I have yet to meet someone who hasn't found someone who understands them truly, past all the distractions, through everything. You will find them! Work on yourself, and the people will come <3 (my DMs/ask box are still open too, if you're ever like "wtf help who am i what is a self?")
I don't know if this is good advice, but it's advice that I've learned over the years and I wish I could dispense to my younger self (of course I probably wouldn't've listened, oops), and I hope it does you some good <3 please feel free to come back to my ask box if you need anything! You've got this anon <3
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Rip Out Our Seams and Stitch Us Together
Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Fem!Reader
Chapter Five
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: Profanity, mirror sex, choking, kind of face-fucking? a touch of voyeurism, oral-male receiving, penetrative sex, Mean Maxwell fuckin’ lmao, office sex, angry sex, how in God’s name did we get here I am horrible at writing smut so i just want to say i’m SORRY. 
Chapter Summary: You take the measurements for the richest family in D.C, Valerie is surprised by her how quickly her son has taken a shining to you and Maxwell has a late night at the office. 
Tag List: @captainsamwlsn @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @cinewhore @this-cat-is-dea @holographic-carmen @honestlystop @favoriteff-allcelebs @teaofpeach
Chapters: 1/2/3/4/
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“The Lords are coming by tomorrow.” Cassandra looked up from the book open at the register.
“But Mrs.Lord was just in yesterday.” She told you.
“Not just her this time.” You finished off the seam on the ground in front of you as you spoke. “All of them are coming in, her husband and son, the whole gang of rich folk will be here.”
Ever since Valerie stepped into your shop late at night four weeks ago, she made herself a common visitor. Oftentimes she’d waltz in, plop herself down onto a chair and begin to complain about Maxwell’s secretary with the horrid voice or one of her friends who was less of a friend and more of a pain in the ass. 
You didn’t know how becoming the friend of a heiress meant her throwing herself into your lap everyday to gossip about other rich people but hey, you weren’t complaining. She was pretty good company when the dust settled. 
Three days ago she had called your store, and told you she, Maxwell, and Alastair would be coming in to get measurements taken so you could get the mock-up of their outfits done with their approval to move on to the finished version. 
Before she could say anything else you had asked about her son. 
“What does he like?”
“What?”
“What’s he like?” You asked, as you spoke your hand picked up the needle once more and began to hem the dress in your lap. “You know, DuckTales, Transformers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I’ve got some stuff I always bring out when kids come into the shop but I don’t know how rich kids work. Do I just hand him money and call him sir?”
“Ha ha.” She droned. “You know if life as a seamstress doesn’t work out, you should pursue a career in comedy, you’d flourish.”
“Aw Val, I couldn’t!” You cooed. “You’d miss me too much.”
You heard her scoff on the other line. From across the store Cass looked at you like you’d sprouted a second head. 
“Nonetheless.” She said slowly. “Alastair isn’t into traditional children’s activities. He enjoys chess with his tutors, reading, and playing the cello.”
You fought the urge to ask if these were things he liked to do or things his parents wanted him to do. 
Maybe rich kids were just built differently.
“I’m just calling to tell you certain adjustments must be made for my son.” She explained, in a tone so formal you hadn’t heard it since you first met her. 
“Uh sure.” You sat up, concerned. “What do you need?”
 “Certain textures make him extremely uncomfortable for clothing, so be aware that the lining will have to be a soft, smoother material.”
You sat back, observing the swatches already laid out in the backroom. You could grab a few more of softer materials for him to feel and see which one he liked the most. You already assumed as such, since he’s a kid and you remembered how much you hated wearing your church dress because of how itchy it was. “ Anything else need to be done?”
“He can get overstimulated if places are too loud or crowded at times, but since your store hardly has any customers in it.” You could hear the smirk on her face over the phone and groaned. “I doubt that will be a problem.”
“It’s my pleasure to be of your assistance.” You snipped. A moment of silence passed between the pair of you. “But uh, seriously. Don’t worry about it. I’ve made clothes for kids and people with touch aversions before. No sweat.”
“Thank you.” She breathed out. “Really Stitches, I appreciate it.”
At her praise your lips curled into a soft smile. “It’s no problem Val. One question though.”
“Yes?”
 “Who the hell names their kid Alastair?”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that Stitches, I’ll see you tomorrow.” A dial tone met your ears and you called out to Cassandra. 
“Do we have a chess board in the back?”
---
Valerie walked into her son’s room, clearing her throat so both him and his tutor looked up at her. 
“Alastair honey, can I talk to you for a moment?” The boy, only eight, nodded and closed his workbook before standing. The tutor however, shot a hand out to grab her son’s shoulder. 
“Mrs. Lord.” The tutor, a man graying at the temples who wore ties so bland she’d rather wear a nose, shot her a condescending smile. “I thought we agreed on not interrupting Alastair’s lessons. It’s bad for his focus.”
“Mr. Lanston.” She shot back in the same sickly sweet tone as she tapped a manicured nail against the wall. “Who’s house is this?”
The man swallowed. “Mr.Lor-”
She clicked her tongue, shaking her head side to side as if scolding a dog. “For a tutor you seem to be quite fond of giving out the wrong answers. So I will ask you again, whose house is this?”
The tutor shrunk back. “Yours.”
“Correct. And who is it that you work for?”
“You, Mrs.Lord.” He said meekly. 
“Correct again! Now since this is my house and it is my son you are teaching, I will speak to him if I please. And if you try and insult my son’s intellect by saying a simple chat with his mother will throw him off course, I will throw you out onto the street. Do you understand me?”
The man’s mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. 
“I asked you a question Mr.Lanston.” Her hand tapped against the Cartier watch on her wrist expectantly. “I expect an answer back.”
“Of course Mrs.Lord.” He stammered out, before turning to her son who just barely came to his hip. “I’m so sorry Mr.Lord.”
“That’s okay.” He answered simply, before taking his mother's hand in his and walking out of the room. 
Alastair Lord was eight years old, had his mother’s bright blue eyes and his father’s dark brown hair (Maxwell visited a hairstylist regularly but would never admit it). He had already skipped a grade but his parents insisted on keeping track of his studies, even during the summer. Maxwell did it in an attempt to feel less guilty about being stuck at work all day instead of  being with his son, Valerie did it so nobody would ever get the chance to use her son’s intellect as a weapon against his own standing. 
The Lords didn’t agree on much. But one thing they did agree on was that they loved their son more than anything in the world. 
“Do you still want to go to the gala with us in September?” She asked him. Her son’s eyes flicked out to the large glass window that proudly displayed their immaculate lawn, a bird flew along the clear pane before flying up and out of sight. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I’ll go.” He said simply. He squeezed his mother’s hand in his with a small smile. “I like going to those fancy parties, you always wear pretty dresses.” He frowned, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I don’t like it when those old ladies try to touch my hair and kiss my cheek though.”
Alastair hated physical affection from those he didn’t know. The last business party of Maxwell’s he went to, a man’s wife tried to give him what she thought was a friendly kiss on the cheek because he was “such a darling little boy!”. Alastair ripped himself away from her in a panic, to which she then got offended and insisted to speak with his mother about his “awful manners.”
When Maxwell came to find his son clinging to his mother’s leg with tears in his eyes, he promptly had the couple thrown out and cut off business ties with the woman’s husband on account of her awful manners. 
From then on Alastair’s parents made sure he knew that if he was uncomfortable with a situation, he was to tell them and they would put an end to it immediately. 
“Your father and I are going to go see a seamstress to get measurements done for the gala. Would you come with us so we can get a suit made for you as well?”
Alastair looked up at his mother, blue eyes shining and ultimately passive at her question. 
“Sure.”
------
It was late at night when he came into his son’s room. Alastair was already in bed, nuzzled under his sheets and head resting against his pillow. Maxwell gently rapped his knuckles against the door before entering, his son’s eyes blinked open. It was always a shock how much they looked like Valerie's. 
“How’s the tutoring going?” Maxwell already knew the answer, Alastair excelled in every subject, but he simply wanted to hear his son speak to him. 
“Good.” His son replied. “Mr.Lanston said if I keep studying hard I might be able to skip another grade.”
Maxwell sat on the edge of his bed. “Would you like to skip another grade?”
Alastair was already a grade ahead, his teachers would message his parents about how well behaved and smart he was. But Alastair hardly ever spoke about his own experiences at school, about his friends or anything other than his classes.
“I don’t know.” the boy shifted for a moment, furrowing his brows in frustration and it was moments like this that he truly did look like his mother. “Mr.Lanston says it’s good for me to stay ahead of other but-” He looked off into the window of his room, a small sliver of moonlight peeking through the blue curtains. “Fifth grade sounds kind of fun, I heard the history teacher is really interesting and takes us on fun field trips.”
Part of Maxwell, the part still drilled into his head by his mother, nagged that he was sending the boy to that school to learn not go on ridiculous field trips. The other part of him, the part that shone when Alastair called him dad, felt guilt when he saw how apprehensive his son was in telling him how he felt.
Maxwell smiled, reached out to ruffle his son’s hair that was damn near a carbon copy of his own (before he got it dyed of course). “Then you’ll stay right where you are champ.”
“Thanks dad.”
The older lord frowned, before sternly pointing a finger at his son. “That’s Mr.Dad to you, young man.”
His son promptly groaned and threw his blanket over his face. “That joke still isn’t funny!” Even at his disgust, Maxwell could hear his son’s muffled giggles through the blanket and smiled.
“Humor is subjective, son.” Maxwell stood up from the bed, knees popping loudly as he did. Jesus, he was getting old. “Goodnight Alastair.”
Maxwell was already out of his son’s room and halfway down the hall when a tiny voice peeped out. 
“Goodnight dad.”
-----
“So what exactly does his son like?” Cassandra stood at the register, head laying in the palm of her hand as she leaned against the counter. The back room had been set full with different fabrics for them to see and either confirm or reject. Which in the classic Lord fashion meant they will either toss it at you with a stiff “this will do” or tell you it’s the ugliest thing in the world. 
You sighed. “Apparently he likes to read, play chess and the cello.” You looked toward the old checkers board set out and shrugged. “That was the closest thing I had so lets hope he isn’t as stuck up as his father or dramatic as his mother.”
“Speaaaaking of which.” Cassandra looked up with an excited grin. “You and Mrs.Lord are like, best friends now right?”
You thought about all the times she paraded into your store before throwing herself into the nearest chair (or your lap) before complaining about her day like a soap opera star. 
“Well I wouldn’t say best friends, but we’ve certainly gotten closer.”
“What’s she like? Has she taken you shopping? Have you seen her house? Is she as mean as everybody says she is?”
You pulled back for a moment, thinking. “She’s nice for a rich lady, no we haven’t gone shopping and I don’t think we ever will, I haven’t seen her house which once again I don’t think will ever happen, and honestly she insults me a lot but I think it’s her way of showing affection at this point.”
Cassandra giggled. “Like a cat?”
You thought about a cat- a fickle creature that will hiss and scratch in one second, and then demand all of your attention right after. 
“You know what? That’s actually a pretty spot on comparison.”
The jingle of a bell met your ears before a stern voice sounded out. 
“My god do you people not know what a broom is?”
You turned around, watching Maxwell enter your store with a crinkled nose. 
“I know what a broom is well enough rich boy, why don’t I go get one so I can shove it up your-”
Cassandra cleared her throat loudly before motioning to the tiny child at Maxwell’s side. 
“Oh, uh-” You realized the boy must've just seen you threaten his father. “Hey little dude. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you.” The boy responded. Alastair’s voice was just as tiny as he was. He had his mother’s eyes and father’s nose, but his hair was so dark it made you wonder which one of his parents bleached their hair. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, mam.”
Prim posture, perfect manners, not a single hair out of place. He struck you less as a kid and more as a robot but you bit your tongue before smiling back. 
“No need for fancy titles with me, little lord. You can call me Stitches.”
Alastair wrinkled his nose, a gesture that made him look so much like his father you wanted to laugh. “That’s a weird name.”
Valerie tutted at her son, blue eyes cast down in disappointment. “Alastair! Don’t be rude.”
“He isn’t wrong.” Maxwell waved off his wife’s scolding of their son. “Besides, I believe we came here to get actual work done on whatever horrid outfits you're making for the gala?”
“Of course.” You turned on your heel, leading them to the backroom where multiple mirrors lined the wall. “I’d hate to take up too much of your time. You’re a busy man after all, I’m sure you’d rather be off making your secretary cry or something equally as important.”
Maxwell rolled his eyes and shucked off his jacket, ignoring the twinge of annoyance he felt at even the mention of his secretary, someone you didn’t even know grated him so horribly. 
“Well we can’t all run rotten, hole-in-the-wall shops like this that just beg to be robbed.” He turned a sly eye to you with his nose tilted up. “Some of us have standards after all.”
You smiled. “I suppose you're right about that one Mr.Lord, I doubt my skills will live up to your expectations.” You wrapped the measuring tape around his bicep, using it to tug him so close his powerful facade melted into one of shock. 
“And yet-” Your voice curled in his ear like a tempting call, your eyes so focused on taking note of the measurement of his arm Maxwell hoped you didn’t hear his breath catch. 
“-here you are.”
Valerie looked up from the fabric swatches in her hand to notice the way Maxwell stared at you while you were blissfully unaware. It was hungry, surprised and oh so desperate. The same way she looked at you. 
All while you busied yourself with his measurements, unaware of the inner workings between the billionaire and his wife. 
Valerie was pulled from her head when her son handed her a swatch of fabric, a royal blue in color and soft knit against her skin. 
“This one is nice.”
She smiled at her son. Out of the corner of her eye she saw you wrap the tape measure around her husband’s chest. She reached down to playfully tug on the collar of his shirt, also a deep royal blue. 
“You’ll look lovely in it sweetheart.”
The conversation between you and his father was not nearly as loving.
“Do you have to play such obnoxious music?”
You didn’t bother to look up at Maxwell when he snipped back, you simply focused on the tape in your hands and the measurement of his chest which only made him even angrier. 
Obnoxious, what a perfect word to describe you. 
The shirts, the tattoos, everything about you was just so...loud. 
His eyes flicked forward when he felt your fingers ghost over his chest. Mirrors lined each wall, most likely so your customers could see what the clothes looked like on them from each angle. But as you leaned down to measure his inseam, his thoughts went other places. 
Places they definitely shouldn’t have with his wife and son in the same room. 
“Do you have to wear such disgusting cologne?”
Maybe it was your attitude, such defiance nobody openly showed him in fear of losing their job, or the fact that you were so different than the tucked in, prim-and-proper future trophy wives he fucked, or maybe it was simply the fact that your ass looked phenomenal in those jeans, but Maxwell couldn’t help but imagine fucking you in front of those mirrors. 
He wondered if you’d be loud, head thrown back and calling out his name as he fucked into you without mercy, without care. Maybe you’d be shy, you were so stubborn after all. Perhaps you’d bite your lip, trying to keep your noises stifled so you didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how good he made you feel. Maxwell wouldn’t allow that of course, he’d never admit it but he liked having his ego stroked almost as much as his cock. He wouldn’t hesitate to grab your jaw, forcing you to look forward at yourself in the mirrors. 
‘We’re the only ones here.’ His breath fanning out over your neck would make you shudder as you stared at your reflection just as he did. Seeing the way your tits bounced with each thrust and the ways your legs trembled and shook like those of a newborn. His pride swelled at the notion that if his arm wasn’t wrapped tight around your waist and gripping you close, you would’ve fallen to the floor by now. 
‘Let me hear you.’ He grunted into your neck as your whimpers got louder until you were all but shouting his name. ‘Good girl.’
“It’s revolting really.”
The sinful painting in his mind was torn to shreds when your haughty voice cut through it like a hot blade. 
He blinked owlishly, you stood in front of him, tape measure no longer against him but thrown over your shoulder while you crossed your arms. 
“What?”
“Your cologne.” You explained with a smirk. “It’s like trying to take measurements in a chemical factory. A little goes a long way Maxwell.” You gave him a sarcastic pat on the shoulder, one he was too distracted to push off because the way his name rolled off your lips. 
You had never said his name before. 
As quick as the interaction was, you turned to Valerie and Alastair, both sitting at the table behind you. You smiled and held a welcoming hand out. 
“You ready little man?” 
Alastair looked at his mother, who nodded her head and he slid off his chair to hop onto the pedestal his father previously stood on top of. His father took a seat next to his wife who said nothing. 
They both watched their son raise his arms as you held up the tape measure to him with a smile, you were saying something to him, most likely about school or his summer break. Valerie appreciated when you asked her about his interests to make a connection, but knew that was less than likely. Alastair wasn’t one to make connections, something she wondered if he got from his father by instinct or something that was drilled into him by his grandmother. 
Before she had been banned from coming to their house. 
“I’ll be working late tonight.” Maxwell told his wife. He knew she didn’t really care, their marriage was ten years of working late nights. Telling her at this point was just a courtesy. 
“Will your secretary be working as well?”
Maxwell noted the sly dig toward Delilah, but didn’t care enough about the woman to defend her. 
“If she wasn’t I wouldn't have hired her.”
Valerie ignored her husband in favor of the scene in front of her. She watched as you held the tape to her son’s leg, nodding your head as he spoke at length while you took his measurements. To say his mother was surprised would be an understatement, he hardly talked to his parents. Let alone people he’s only just met. 
Maybe something about you just brought out that side of the Lords.
“Alrighty, you're all good Alastair.” The youngest Lord hopped off the little step and you looked toward his mother with a jut of your chin. “You're up, Val.”
Maxwell looked toward his wife with a raised brow, mouthing her nickname in confusion. She was too busy taking your hand as you stepped onto the pedestal to notice. 
“So-” You wrapped the tape measure around her waist, mindful not to let your hands linger. “-how the hell did you two make such a sweet kid like Alastair?”
Valerie smiled at your reflection and ignored the way her heart jumped when you pulled the measuring tape just beneath the swell of her chest. “I’m not sure if that was an insult on my parenting or my personality.”
“Oh definitely an insult on your personality, without a doubt.” You responded seriously, but the tilt of your lips lent it to a gentle tease. “You must be doing something right because that kid is better behaved than you and your husband.” You looked up for a moment and she held her breath. 
“Or should I be giving this praise to some poor underpaid nanny you torture?”
Valerie scoffed. “Oh please, Miriam is hardly underpaid and she doesn’t do a damn thing right. I don’t know why we keep her around these days.”
You snorted. “Miriam?” The tape measure pressed to the side of her hip as you measured down her leg. “God, you people really tic every box off the one percent checklist, don’t you?”
Valerie hummed, painted lips curls into a smile. “We try our best dear.”
You stood up straight, hands moving behind her to wrap the tape around her chest with an awkward cough. Even as you willed all your focus on the numbers of her measurement you couldn't help but feel your face grow hot. 
“How unlady-like.” She murmured, you didn’t look up to meet her gaze but the smug tone in her voice gave it away. “At least buy me dinner, Stitches.”
You chuckled and spared a glance up. 
What a fucking mistake that was. 
Blue eyes stared you down like you have been presented on a silver platter and the richest woman in D.C. wanted nothing more than to devour you right where you stood.
“Something tells me I wouldn’t be able to afford it.”
“I’m sure I can make an exception.”
You realized Valerie was alot like the sun, you couldn’t look at her for too long without needing to look away. 
You stepped back to write her measurements down and put your hands together. 
“I think you folks are good to go.”
You just hoped you wouldn’t end up burned. 
Maxwell stood up and scoffed. “About damn time, some of us have real work to do instead of twiddling our thumbs and sewing little dresses.” As he walked by, his eyes flicked over yours in a poisonous glare and his shoulder knocked against yours with his son following behind him like a little carbon copy.
You looked toward his wife, who looked just as surprised by the worsening of her husband’s mood. 
“You’re one lucky woman Mrs.Lord.”
“Believe me I know.” She leaned forward to whisper with a wink. “But I know a few things that’ll brighten him up no problem.”
You scrunched up your face and pushed out every image that surged into your mind at her implication. “Okay gross, didn’t need to know that but thank you.”
“Always my pleasure Stitches.”
The door shut behind Valerie as she walked out to their car, throwing one last wink over her shoulder before sliding into the backseat next to her son while her husband slammed the passenger seat door behind them. 
“Well-” Cassandra looked over at you with a surprised expression. She must've noticed the fact that Maxwell had seemed to be pissier than usual, you did as well but assumed it was because of some deal that went sour at work or some type of rich people shit you couldn’t even fathom. “-his son seemed nice.”
“Yeah.” Their car turned a corner and disappeared from your line of sight. “They aren’t exactly the fucking Brady Bunch though.”
------
“Daniels-” Maxwell adjusted his collar in the rear-view mirror as he spoke. “-swing by the office. I need to go over some papers for a meeting I have tomorrow. Then take Valerie and Alastair home.”
“Of course sir.”
The driver turned left. 
“Mom?”
Valerie looked to the boy at her side. “Yes sweetheart?”
“Can I come with you the next time you see the seamstress?” Valerie looked toward the passengers seat, where her husband sat just as shocked as her. 
“You want to go see Stitches?” Maxwell asked. “Again?”
His son nodded, too young to realize how surprised his parents were by his answer. 
“She’s funny and nice and she doesn’t talk down to me like other people do.” Alastair looked up at his mother, nervous at her lack of response. “Is that okay?”
That seemed to snap Valerie into action. She smiled and took her son’s hand in her with a loving pat. “Of course sweetheart, Stitches would love to have you around.”
The car came to a halt in front of the Chimtech Consortium building, which stood tall, even against the grit and grime of the busy city streets
Maxwell stepped out of the car before ducking his head into the window. “I’ll be home late tonight champ, alright?”
Alastair held no disappointment nor resentment to his father for the time he spent at work but it didn’t make Maxwell feel like any less of a shit father. 
“Okay dad.”
Valerie leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain in her wake. “I’ll see you tonight darling.”
Maxwell smiled. “Don’t stay up too late waiting for me dear.” He took a step back, watching the car drive out of the sight of his building before he frowned and wiped the lipstick off his cheek, which in turn left a red mark on his jacket sleeve. 
“Damn that woman.”
The moment he entered the lobby, people seemed to pause before greeting him, none of which he gave a response to. It wasn’t until the elevator door shut that he took a deep breath. 
Breathe Maxwell, you’ll run yourself ragged this way. 
A tiny titter behind him made him realize he wasn’t alone in the elevator. Out of the corner of his eye he could see brown leather shoes that he’d wouldn’t be caught dead in. 
“What’s your name son?”
The boy gaped for a moment before he found his voice. “Michael, sir.”
The door opened with a soft Ding! And Maxwell stepped out before turning to face the young man. 
Wiry frame, tall, yet hunched over out of pure insecurity and refusing to meet Maxwell’s eye. 
He was definitely an intern. 
“Well then Mikey-” Maxwell noticed the way his head snapped up as he spoke. “Get me a coffee and bring it to my office, just the way I like it.”
The intern squeaked out a quick “of course sir!” before the doors shut on him. 
Maxwell wondered how long it would take for ‘Mikey’ to realize he never told him how he liked his coffee or where his office actually was. 
He turned sharply around a corner, taking note in the sea of cubicles he passed, every employee pausing to whisper and watch him march past without speaking. The sound of marketing calls dissipated as he grew farther away from the flurry of lower rank workers. Huddled cubicles were replaced with sleek halls and grand windows showcasing the city view. When his eyes landed on the dark brown door at the end of the hall he nearly wept. 
Sweet sanctuary. 
 His hand had just curled around the silver door knob, the final obstacle between him and sweet sweet isolation when a shrill voice broke out. 
“Oh!” Delilah squeaked, jumping up from her chair with surprise. “Mr.Lord, you're here!”
She definitely should’ve noticed that he had gotten here earlier, given that she was his fucking secretary. 
“That I am Delilah.” Maxwell answered gruffly, eyes flicking over to the stack of papers on her desk that she would no doubt forget to file. “I do run this company after all.”  Before she could respond with some ass-kissing compliment, he walked into his office and shut the door behind him. 
Maxwell rolled his shoulders back, undoing the blue tie around his neck as he sank into his office chair with a groan. He spent more time in that chair than his own bed at this point. 
Truth be told there wasn’t much that needed to be done at work today that couldn’t be done tomorrow.  He had no meetings for another three days and he’d worked himself ragged the past few days to play catch up, now he was more than ahead of the game. He simply needed to be alone, to clear his head a bit.
But try as he may, he couldn’t calm the rambling stream of his consciousness no matter how hard he fought. When he opened his eyes again and spared a glance at the clock on his desk, he realized thirty minutes had passed since he first sat down. 
Maxwell groaned, threading his fingers in his hair and pulling in frustration. 
Why can’t you get the fuck out of his head?
That bratty attitude combined with your god awful sense of style should've made you repugnant, somebody he couldn’t stand the sight of and didn’t see as anything worth the metaphorical shit under his eight hundred dollar shoes. Yet here he sat, hunched over in his office plagued with your voice saying his name like a challenge over and over in his head like some sick chant. 
Maxwell ran a hand through his hair, setting each strand into place before he pressed the button on his desk and spoke with authority. 
“Delilah, could you meet me in my office?”
Only a few seconds later, she came scurrying into his office with poorly hidden excitement. 
“Yes sir?” That was one thing he hated about her. 
The fucking voice. 
It wasn’t her voice on it’s own, but it was the way she made her voice sound. She made sure to always talk softly, forcing herself up to a higher octave to sound sweet and submissive like a flute when she really sounded like somebody stepping on the tail of a cat. 
But her boss wasn’t interested in her voice to begin with. 
He pushed his chair out from under his desk by a fraction and unbuckled his belt. 
“Knees.”
She was quick to find her way between his legs with a sultry smile. 
“Did you miss me?”
Maxwell scoffed. “Hardly. Now do something useful with that mouth before I start looking at new hires to take your place.”
The smile disappeared and she looked down, uttering out a small “Yes Mr.Lord” before she took his cock into his mouth. Maxwell let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, head falling back with a relaxed hum. His eyes shut as his mind, always his enemy, began to paint a picture he had been longing for all day. 
You sat on your knees between his legs, moaning while you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. 
You seemed like the type to tease, he didn’t doubt that. But he enjoyed teasing just fine, as long as he was the one doing it. Maybe in the form of a toy nestled between your legs while he held a remote, turning it on and off with no pattern just to see you whine and buck your hips like a bitch in heat. 
His hand knotted itself in your hair and pushed you further down on his cock with a grunt. 
“That’s it.” You whined as your head bobbed up and down, tongue hot against his veins while the coil in his stomach wound tighter and tighter every time you moved. “You take it so well, just like that.”
A nervous knock sounded against his door. Maxwell’s eyes snapped open before they narrowed into angry slits. 
Christ, he just couldn’t catch a break today.
Delilah let out a muffled squeak and pushed herself off of Maxwell’s cock before his hand pressed down on the back of her head and bucked his hips against her open mouth.
“You make a noise or move an inch off of my dick-” His voice was even and ultimately unbothered as he spoke to her. “-and you're fucking fired.”
Delilah made a whimpered garble against him, he assumed it meant ‘Yes sir.’
“Come in.”
The door creaked open and in walked the same intern from the elevator, just this time with a Styrofoam cup in his trembling hand. 
Son of a bitch, the kid actually did it. 
“Well color me surprised Mikey, you came through.” 
The boy set the coffee on his desk, completely unaware of the woman crouched under the desk, deepthroating the seemingly unbothered man sitting before him. 
Maxwell took the coffee into his hand, taking a tentative sip before his face scrunched up. Just as he did, Delilah gagged loudly against him, causing Michael’s eyes to go wide as he looked around for the source of the sound. 
God he hated black coffee. 
“A touch too bitter for my taste, but gold star for effort kid.”  Maxwell's hand snaked under the table to push Delilah's head down another inch or two. Her nose was now nestled against the hem of his dress shirt, and he could feel her struggling to maintain the position by the way her throat flexed around his cock.
Good. Maybe that would shut her up.
“Next time try a dash of nutmeg.”
“Nutmeg?”
“Yes, nutmeg. It’s a nice wake-up in the morning. But for now that will be all.” Maxwell motioned to the door, to which the boy nodded and bowed his head like some servant. 
“Of course, have a good day sir.”
“You too kid. Make sure to shut the door behind you.”
The intern all but sprinted out, Maxwell felt his pride swell knowing even after he complimented the intern, he was still scared shitless of him. The moment his door clicked shut, he gripped his slobbering secretary’s hair by the root and wrenched her off his dick, leaving her to sputter and cough with tears in her eyes. 
“I suggest you make yourself useful, Miss Harris.” Maxwell slid his jacket off his shoulders and onto the chair behind him. He pulled a condom out of his pocket with a frown that never seemed to leave when she was in his presence.
 “That poor intern already knows where my office is and how I like my coffee, you might be out of a job soon enough.”
Delilah wiped the spit from her mouth and grinned. She stood on shaky legs in those horrendous kitten heels before pulling up her skirt and bending over his desk. 
“You could never fire me sir.” She groaned, gripping the desk like a lifeline when Maxwell entered her and began to thrust without giving her time to adjust to his size. “You’d miss me too much.”
Maxwell, still buried inside her, scoffed. “And what exactly would I miss Delilah? The cold coffee? The missed memos? Or you coming in late and thinking I don’t notice?” With each question he thrust in and out, in and out, a harsh unforgiving tempo that his secretary should be used to by now.
She arched her back with a squeaking moan. “No, you’d miss this pussy. Nobody fucks you like I do Sir.” The final string keeping Maxwell together, the one that everybody seemed to tug and pluck all day finally snapped when Delilah her next words. 
“Not even your bitch of a wife.”
Maxwell’s hips halted their assault against Delilah’s freckled skin, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at the back of her head, the pregnant pause filled the air that made Delilah realize right as the words passed her lips she had fucked up. 
She gasped when his hand wrapped tight around her throat and pulled her up off the desk and against his chest. 
“Talk about my wife again, go ahead.” Maxwell growled out, Delilah opened her mouth but no sound came out as his fingers squeezed tighter and tighter around her throat until her face went from pale white to bright red, the cold metal of his wedding band cut into the soft skin of her neck, the pain hopefully proving to be an effective teacher . “I fucking dare you, you even mention Valerie one more fucking time and you’ll wish you never pulled your lazy ass through that door to apply for this goddamn job. You understand me?”
When he loosened his grip she nodded rapidly, taking in a shuddering breath. She looked over her shoulder at him, legs trembling and a pout on her swollen lips. 
“I’m sorry.” She croaked out, voice hoarse from his dick and only made worse by his temper. His hand slid up her back before pushing her down on the desk where her body slammed down on the hard wood.
“I don’t care.”
Maxwell slid out of her before ramming back into her dripping cunt with zero grace, continuing to do so as his hands gripped her hips hard enough that he would surely leave behind bruises come the next day. 
He thought about the way the same bruises would look on your hips.
 Your neck.
 Fuck, your chest. 
Hearing you moan his name like a plea, a chant to God but Maxwell was one being worshiped. All the bite you showed him at work would melt away when he slid inside you with a groan. His fingers digging into the plush give of your ass while pounding into your sweet pussy that gripped him like a fucking vice. 
“You love it.” He spoke through gritted teeth, hair unkempt and falling in front of his eyes. “You fucking love it don’t you?”
You nodded numbly, gripping onto the table and just barely managing a weak moan. Maxwell’s hand came down on your ass in a stinging slap that made you shout.  He didn’t care who outside his office heard you, Christ himself could be standing outside and that wouldn’t be enough to pull him from you.
“You speak when-” Maxwell groaned, doubling over your body and rutting into you like an animal. “You speak when you're fucking spoken to.”
Your back arched as his voice growled out against your neck. “I love it.” You fingers dragged against his mahogany desk that shook with each thrust. “I love it so fucking much.”
“I fucking know you do.” His hips stuttered against yours, hot waves of pleasure threatening to crash over him with every thrust, every bounce of your curls and every sweet coo of your voice. “You were made for just my cock, just for me. Weren’t you?”
“Just for you.” You panted. Your knees knocked together as he pushed you into the desk more with each selfish thrust of his cock. “All yours max, only yours.”
Maxwell’s hand slammed down on the table next to Delilah’s head as he came with a low groan. Delilah, feeling her own high slowly retreating, whined. 
“Max please.” She begged. “I’m so close please just-” she squeaked at the feeling of her boss pulling out of her in record time as he cleaned himself up. 
“How many times to I have to fucking tell you, address me as Mr.Lord or Sir-” his eyes cut down at her trembling form. “-or don’t bother speaking at all.”
Delilah pushed herself off his desk with a weak nod. 
“Yes Mr.Lord.”
“Send a reminder to that archaeologist for this Friday.” Maxwell had already fastened his belt and taken seat at his desk once more, plucking the now disarrayed papers off the cool surface and shuffling them into a neat pile in his hands. He read them while he walked over to the bookshelf raised on the wall 
“She seems like a ditz and I want to make sure this meeting doesn’t fall through.”
Delilah frowned, tilting her head to the side. A gesture some men may find charming if they were ten years younger and didn't run a fucking company that this idiot woman worked for. 
“Archaeologist?”
“The mousy one that works at the museum.” He reminded her. “If you don’t remember at this point, that’s your own fault for only paying attention to the things I say when you’re on my dick.” Without looking up from the papers in his hand, Maxwell waved a hand in the direction of his office door. 
“That will be all.”
Delilah bowed her head, whether to hide the bright blush on her face or angry tears, he didn’t know. And quite frankly? 
He didn’t care. 
He was already focused on the papers he skimmed, deals and mergers that could break other companies while making him a richer man. 
At least that’s what he told himself while your voice was playing in his head like a broken record. 
Angry, brown eyes left the paper to stare at an unopened bottle of whiskey on the shelf that stared back at him. 
A wedding gift. 
The irony of it all wasn’t lost on him as he forwent a glass and drank straight from the bottle in hopes of drowning all thoughts of you. 
The bottle was halfway empty when he gave up.
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theangriestpea · 4 years
Text
Dirty Dancer | Sweet Pea
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Summary: Sweet Pea convinced Y/N to break into the Whyte Wyrm with him. After a few shots things get a little out of hand.... <ao3> <kink masterlist>
Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1.5k+
Warnings: Coming untouched, dirty talk, public masturbation, hair pulling, barebacking
A/N:  Another request down! I have two more to go after this. Then I might put these smutshots on hold for a bit. I'm starting to burn out on them lol. @riverdalebingo​ for the "cumming untouched" square. Bolded text are the request prompts. Enjoy!
“If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” You said, your voice showing your annoyance with how long it was taking him to pick the lock to the Whyte Wyrm.
“If you would hold the light still, princess, then I’d be done already.” He grumbled back, finally unlocking the door so they could sneak inside. He held the door open for you as you stepped inside the dark building.
“I can’t believe we lost this place…” You mumbled sadly, looking at how run down the inside was now that the Ghoulies had taken over. It was dangerous for the two of you to be here alone without backup, but it was worth the risk to be inside one of your old stomping grounds. The Serpents had so little these days.
Sweet Pea put a hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the sound system so he could cut on some music for the two of you. You hid the small smile on your face as you looked under the bar and grabbed any liquor that you could find. “Why in the hell is there Everclear down here? Who actually drinks that shit?” You asked him, pulling out the bottle.
“People that are too drunk to care about what shit tastes like.” Sweet Pea said, smirking as he pulled out two shot glasses. “I dare you to do a shot.”
You scrunched your nose up at the dare, but knew that you couldn’t say no. “Fine, I dare you to take one too.”
Sweet Pea shrugged nonchalantly, “Whatever you want, princess. I can drink you under the table any time. One shot won’t hurt me.”
“Stop calling me princess.” You snapped at him as you poured two shots out. “I have a name, you know.”
He smirked, “Yes, Princess Y/N.” His voice was teasing as he picked up the shot glass. “Bottom’s up.”
You glared at him in response as you picked up the other glass and threw your head back with it. It burned badly, the horrid taste making you gag. Sweet Pea only laughed at your reaction, pretending to have not been affected in the slightest by the alcohol.
The two of you did a few more shots of various things, sticking mostly to clear liquors to keep from getting sick. The music started to really get to you and you took to the stage, now toeing the line between tipsy and drunk. You moved your hips, holding on to the pole and grinding against it. You almost forgot that Sweet Pea was there as you were lost in the music, even doing a few simple pole dancing moves.
“Stop dancing like that or I’m going to cum in my pants.”   Sweet Pea said with a smug smirk on his lips. “Maybe you should come over here and dance instead.”
Your head snapped to him, face now alight with a furious blush as you stepped off the stage and sauntered over to him. He was sitting on one of the couches against the wall , patting his thigh as if it were an open invitation. You  made your way over to him, but did not get onto his lap as he obviously wanted.
One you were a foot in front of him, you began to dance again, rolling your hips while running your hands over your body. You slowly took off your outer layers of clothes, the music and alcohol feeding into your confidence. Sweet Pea watched, mouth agape as his growing erection started to feel uncomfortable in his pants.
“I dare you to not touch yourself while I dance.” You said smoothly, “go ahead, take your dick out, then hands where I can see them. I want to see if I really can make you cum just by dancing.”
Sweet Pea was intrigued, having never thought that it was possible to have an orgasm while being untouched. It seemed like it was worth a try. He unbuttoned his jeans and slid down the zipper, pulling his cock out to show you.
You licked your lips at the sight, turning around to take off your bra and throw it backwards at him. Slowly you turned around, hands over your breasts. “Do you want to see, baby?” You asked teasingly as you bat your eyelashes at him.
He swallowed hard as he watched you, fingers twitching with the urge to stroke himself. His eyes were glued to your chest as you gave your breasts a gentle squeeze. “Bet you wish you could touch them, don’t you? What a dirty boy you are with all of those naughty thoughts about me.”
Sweet Pea was speechless as you finally moved your hands so he could see your breasts in full. His mouth watered, wanting nothing more than to suck on the tender flesh and bite hard enough to leave makers. He shifted his hips, hoping to feel some relief but none came.
“Just think about how good they feel.” You said, practically moaning as you massaged them. “They’re so soft, I bet you’d love to have your dick between them, wouldn’t you?”
“Fuck, babe.” He managed to mutter, “I think I really am going to cum.”
You smirked at him, as you slowly pulled down your underwear. You grabbed them from the floor and threw them at him. He caught them, keeping them bunched in his hand for the time being. “I bet you’d love to touch me here too.” You cooed, hand trailing between your legs to brush against your clit. You let out a soft moan.
“Sweet Pea,” You moaned loudly, tossing your head back and giving yourself a dramatic facial expression. “Oh my god, Sweets, just like that. Oh, right there! Yes!” Your voice got louder, laced more and more with lust as you continued to touch yourself in front of him.
Sweet Pea was groaning, his cock twitching painfully as he teetered on the edge. He imagined fucking you senseless over the couch, imagined that it truly was him making you sound like that. He could probably make you say so much worse if he tried, and he fully intended on trying once this little game was over.
You fucked yourself with your fingers, crying out as you came closer to release, hardly even paying attention to the Serpent in front of you anymore. Sweet Pea let out a soft moan as he exploded, semen shooting from his dick and coating his shirt. He was breathing heavily despite not doing any kind of strenuous activity.
“You better get your ass over here, Y/N.” He growled as he stood, discarding his clothing as quick as he possibly could.
You snapped back to reality and flounced over to where he had been sitting. He grabbed your wrist and forced you down, his other hand travelling down your side as you let out a small pleased whimper. “I’m not going to touch that pretty little cunt of yours unless you beg.”
He let go of your wrist so that both hands could inch along every curve of your body. He grasped at your breasts, squeezing them and tweaking your nipples. You were dripping wet from your display, and the need to cum made you more desperate than ever.
“Please touch me, Pea, I need you inside of me.” You whined at him, looking over your shoulder so you could see the expression on his face as he prepared his cock with his hand. “I’m so fucking wet for you, I need you to fuck me until I cum all over that giant cock of yours. Please .”
His smirk returned as he smacked you on the ass, “good girl.” He praised before thrusting into you. The two of you moaned in unison. He felt so amazing inside of you, filling you up and stretching you out. You didn’t even care that he didn’t put on a condom, thank god you were on the pill.
Sweet Pea rammed into you, pulling your hair back in a fist as he did so. You gripped the couch tightly in your hands to keep steady as his thrusts forced you forward more and more. He didn’t let up, wanting to tear you apart for being such a goddamn tease.
You had never been with someone who could move as fast and hard as he could. It was so fucking exhilarating that you could stop your orgasm from building rapidly. You did your best to hold off as he tugged your hair more. “Come on, dirty little slut. Touching yourself in front of me like that. I know you’re about to cum all over me. Show me how much a fucking whore you are, princess.”
You screamed as you hit your peak, your body reducing itself to a trembling puddle of torso and limbs as he rode out the intense high until he was cumming inside of you. Sweet Pea panted as he pulled out, sitting down on the couch and pulling you into his lap.
“We should break in here more often.” He said between heavy breaths, smiling a wicked grin.
You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, “You’re right, I think we should…”
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beyoncesdragon · 4 years
Text
The disappointing Gender
Pairing:  Bestfriend!Ashton x Reader   
Warnings: shit ton of cursing, dont worry I love men, but women are just easier at times. Based on a real story, that shit really happened to me. 
Summary: Some men are just straight up trash. And what’s better than to vent about them to your willingly listening best friend Ashton. 
My Masterlist 🦋
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(Gif credits: @ghostofmashton​)
“I don’t know exactly what goes through your mind when deciding to finally peel your limp body out of your comfy sheets, go through the usually long, self-esteem-damaging process of “getting ready”, find an outfit you would feel comfortable but not underdressed in and then leave for a party. Let me be honest, I mostly think: at least let it be worth all this. And then maybe something like; maybe I’ll meet someone. “Someone” carefully and fully on purpose undefined because you don’t want to get your hopes up and then be disappointed. But “someone” secretly being a guy, optionally a boyfriend even, but just maybe.
“However, now you are at that party, ready to meet new people and you take a look around. You see many people; some you think are pretty in your eyes some aren’t. But that’s okay, that’s only natural. So then after a time, when you have met a few girls you get along with, you spot the “someone”. And your friends somehow knew about him and all that bullshit and tell you the teeniest bit of bloody information alright? And he, on top of that, seems to be interested, keep that in mind.”
I stopped for a second, taking a gulp of my water. The few ice cubes clicked softly against the glass when I placed it back down.
“Alright. Now, you chat with him, all friendly funny business, you develop a sort of insider joke. It’s funny and you think wow, it isn’t all that difficult to talk to boys, amazing. Eventually, you also had a few, and I don’t want to say advantageously but it does help.”
A giggle fell from my bestfriends lips, but I decided to just keep going. “I will again be honest, I was a bit…inebriated if I may say so and if you would want to take me as an example. However, maybe you flirt for a while, and it really all goes well, so well that you would’ve started to become suspicious, since it was you after all. Continuing, because you’re bloody sloshed, you don’t suspect anything, even though if you would’ve just listened closely you could’ve totally heard fate snigger.”
I earned an amused hum from Ashton for that, picking up my glass again. “Further on, one of your new friends disappears with a guy and it’s okay for you but not for her friend whom you also are friends with now. That, because the other girl actually does have a guy eventually. But she isn’t sure. So you go get her, and you sit down with the girls outside to have a chat. Because it’s important that she still has a good night and so on. During that amount of time, you selflessly neglect your guy. Not that he is your guy in reality, but you secretly might have planned on making him your guy.” After a big gulp I placed my glass back down again, the ice now almost completely molten.
“Suddenly, that bloke walks out, raising a single hand at you as an obvious goodbye. And you sit here, startled and a bit dumbfounded because what the fuck is he leaving already. Quick note; it was hardly midnight, the clock stroke twelve maybe two minutes ago. So you get up, approach him and ask, why in the love of Jesus effing Christ he’s leaving already. His response; well. He hasn’t been blessed with the best of experience with women.”
And annoyed frown settled on my face. “I mean what kind of excuse is that? I haven’t only met them good guys either, but do you see me acting like an antisocial scaredy-cat? Nope sir, because I am not that superficial, and you shouldn’t be as well because I am not “women”. Also, have I mentioned that my friends told me, that he was total slag, like a fuckboy freshly bred. Best experience with women my fucking ass. However, back to my example; you then are still a bit startled because he slips that he has been cheated on and all that godforsaken crap. And in your woozy, naturally kind-hearted state you are in, you do feel sorry and possibly even apologise for being so bold. Also, because you don’t want him to think bad of you, he is very attractive after all and you have not given up your hopes just yet.”
A grin had now settled on Ash’s lips, as he leaned back with his drink, the attention still fully with me. “Then he says something like; but it was nice to meet you, and asks you to say your name again, and you do so. Naturally you do ask him the same thing…and you may have forgotten the name already.” I added with a frown, desperately trying to remember. “Something with F and it sounded French or such. Don’t know, not important anyways. Just like his existence.”
At that, Ashton laughed out loud, but wisely keeping quiet. “Yeah you just laugh…however, he then throws that horrid line; we’ll see each other again yeah?
At you, and you might think cool. But how for the love of fuck, since you don’t have anything except for a name. So the thing you do then is, you scrap all of your…I don’t know confidence from off the bottom of your rotten self and ask, if he wants to at least give you his snapchat.” Ash let out a whistle but I waved him off.
“I’m not done yet. So you ask. And he just ignores your question somehow, can’t really remember how. The whole time he’s walking away from you backwards, I guess towards the busstation and you have to follow him like damn mongrel…however. You end up leaving it be and sprinting back to your friends telling them what happened. Because they “know” him, they know his Instagram, so you decide to follow him. But he is on private so you got to send a request. Done with a few clicks, in approximately ten seconds. So now he is gone, you feel disappointment bubbling up, because fuck.”
Ash nodded slowly, looking up at me since I got up impatiently from his couch. “Sounds fun?” he said in a more or less questioning manner and I shot him a dark look.
“Buzz off twat, the best part’s only coming.” Ash rose an eyebrow, leaning back expectantly again. “Next morning you go and check your Instagram, somehow curious if he accepted your request and what do you see? He fucking declined it! This bloody wanker skipped my music, stole my attention and wasted my fucking time, four hours of it!” Ashton broke out in a fit of laughter, nearly spilling his drink.
“Comedy at its finest, certificated gold. Platinum even. Oh Jesus Christ. And that all has obviously not happened to you, you just purposely told it like it did right?” I huffed annoyed, dropping down again. “Never, as if stuff like this would ever happen to me. I mean, I totally understand mankind, it’s just that you can’t fucking use any of them.” Ash giggled, a dopey grin on his face.
“Come again?” I rolled my eyes. “I said, that you can’t fucking use any of you gentlemen. Men are so disappointing, like get a grip on yourselves honestly.” Ash grinned, nudging me with his foot. “Haven’t you just said that he should stop being superficial because of one woman?” he teased and I gave him an angry glare.
“Cheating and just generally being international disappointments is something else. I slowly start to believe that you guys are just born with that twat-gene. It’s almost not your fault. It’s probably the Y-chromosome, would explain why women aren’t like you guys.” Ash shot me an amused grin.
“I don’t know if I would surprise you saying that the explanation why men and women aren’t the same accurately is rooted in our genes. To be specific, it’s even a matter of just those two chromosome, the X-chromosome and the Y-chromosome…” I groaned annoyed, aiming a pillow at his head. I missed, but the message was clear.
“Smart-alecky dimwit, get off my back. I need emotional support, because member belonging to your sex has wasted my time and, in addition to that, ruined your all’s reputation.” Ash just hummed amused.
“Is that so.” I nodded, pouting bolshie. “Then I suggest, you listen to Ariana Grande’s Thank u Next and some Beyoncé, maybe also Rihanna. They’ll support your idea of men being trash immediately I am sure.” I flipped him off immediately, even though he had brought up a good point.
“I am kidding sweetheart. I know men can be idiots, but so can you females.” I couldn’t help but throw him a derisive look “Yes, males and females can be difficult at times.” I mocked him and he just shot me a lopsided grin. “Now you get off my back, annoying brat. But you are over him?” I shrugged.
“I mean, I was never actively involved with him, so I guess?” he nodded softly. “Venting felt good?” I nodded quickly. “Always does. Thanks bud.” He smiled warmly at me. “Everything for my best friend. Mind if I quickly call Kaitlin…” as he saw my face he immediately rolled his eyes. “Oh your little girlfriend huh? Young Irwin’s a little whipped?” giving me the finger he got up and grabbed his phone. “Shut up. I’m right back you bitter prick.”
I laughed sitting up again. “I am not bitter, I am happy for you Ash. Furthermore, I don’t have any problems with taken people or relationships. The problems I have, start when selfish and inconsiderate assholes rub in the fact that they have someone, and start gushing about them. When I, as an admittedly slowly bitter, but independent single person, couldn’t give a shit or two.” Ash grinned at me, shaking his head slightly. “I love you, you madwoman. Also, I am sure you’ll find your guy and we can do all those disgustingly cute things best friends do when they both are in relationships.”
I scrunched my nose. “Like what? Double-dates? In this case, I’d rather stay single Irwin, and now get lost you need to call your babygirl or whatever. Our ice cream is melting and our friends-day is not over yet. So you better hurry your red-dyed, slicked back visage up.” I responded harshly but with a loving lilt to it.
“On my way, woman. Love you, don’t eat my ice cream.” I just huffed, waving him off quickly. “Love you too, you ashy bitch.” I then almost choked on my water when I saw his expression at my words. He grinned and shook his head, pressing his phone against his ear.  
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angelnumber27 · 4 years
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i want to say thank you for always being positive. reading ur txt posts always cheer me up. if i could, can i ask for advice? i’m in a very low mental state right now because my boyfriend beat me this morning with the girl he’s cheating on me just watching. i have a cut on my temple and police had to be called and he might go to jail. it’s not his first time laying hands on me. if u could shed a little light on a bad day, i would appreciate it. sorry to unload my trauma on u, but i have no one right now to lean on.
My angel... :( I am so beyond sorry you’re having to experience this.
I am also very sorry for the late response. That was so irresponsible and disrespectful on my part, I should have responded right away and for that I am so sorry. I wanted to make sure I was able to give you the best possible advice and answer and at the point when this was sent, I knew i wouldn’t have.
You can always always ask for advice, vent, ask me to help you process, just unload your feelings and have me just listen, anything at all. Please do not ever apologize for doing so. Especially since I’ve said so many times that y’all are absolutely welcome to ask me things like this and I am absolutely happy to help. Don’t ever apologize for reaching out. I am always here. Always.
First of all I want you to understand that what happened was in no way your fault whatsoever. It never is the fault of the survivor. Please please try your best for me to keep reminding yourself of this.
Even if you had done something he didn’t like or fucking whatever, nothing ever warrants what he did to you. There is simply no excuse for abuse. At all.
Or cheating for that matter.
I’m not going to scold you for staying in a relationship in which he has cheated on and abused you. Firstly because you are the survivor of these horrible things and it is in no way your fault, but also because I’ve done the same exact thing. I have no room to judge. Nobody should ever judge or speak down to or about somebody who stays in an abusive/toxic relationship. (Anyone else reading this: take note.) People don’t understand that oftentimes you don’t leave because you can’t. Because you are scared of what they will do if you try. Or any other number of reasons.
Just know you don’t owe anyone an explanation about why you stayed.
But I will say you do not deserve any of this and what you do deserve is to be safe, away from somebody who is actively hurting you and allowing a girl he is cheating on you with to fucking watch. It’s horrid and I wish with everything in me I could come get you and take you away from there and just hug you and remind you how loved you are.
I know it hurts because you love him (I know because you wouldn’t have stayed if you didn’t love him) but he deserves to serve time. He harmed you while claiming to love you. That’s not okay. And he needs to sit and realize his mistakes, acknowledge how badly he fucked up, and not only repent but also pay for what he has done.
Jail is the only place for abusers. That’s my take anyway. Unless they are actively willing to get treatment and be rehabilitated. In which case, great. That means nobody else will get hurt (hopefully).
Please do not protect this man. I know how it is baby, I know everything in you may want to protect him because your nostalgia is lying to you, telling you how good it was before, telling you he’s not bad he just messed up. But he’s done this to you before. If somebody lays their hands on you once, they’re going to keep doing it. You’ve experienced this first hand and I know you know this.
And I know this hurts to hear, but if you stay with him, he will keep doing the same thing over and over again and I worry it will get worse. You cannot allow him access to you. Please baby. If you can’t do it for yourself right now, do it for me.
I am very glad the cops were called. I personally hate cops so never called them in my abusive situations and don’t trust them and didn’t want to be arrested (I’m mentally ill- they kill mentally ill folks every day) but there needed to be intervention and I hope that he did serve time.
You are the only one who knows the truth of your relationship. And it sounds to me like you know that he is toxic and harmful and not really a good person.
It will be hard, I won’t lie to you and say it’s gonna be an easy thing to do, but I need you to try your very best to try to distance yourself and not make contact with this sick man again. He will continue to hurt you. You deserve to be taking this time for yourself, to allow yourself to feel and grieve and process and heal. If you are anywhere around or in contact with him, your trauma will continue to grow, and you will not be able to begin the healing process that you so deeply deserve.
I love you and I am always here if you need me. If you feel comfortable updating me on the situation, please do. I’d love to hear how things are going now.
You are so strong. You are a survivor. You are resilience in human form.
You have been so strong for so long and I know you will continue to do so. And part of that strength is making the decision to do what is best for YOU in this moment, not what’s best for a man who hurt you deeply, not what’s best for anyone else, but what’s best for YOU.
You are loved valued and seen. I am so glad you were courageous enough to reach out, you always deserve to have somebody to talk to. And I will always be that for you should you need it.
You’re not unloading your trauma on me my love, you’re processing and venting and asking for help (when I’ve said you could of course!) and that is so brave of you. Don’t ever apologize for that. I am always happy to help and you are not in any way a burden or annoyance for asking for the help you need.
I also understand how hard it can be to speak openly and honestly about these things, and I’m really really proud of you.
Remember the things I’ve said as best as you can. And don’t beat yourself up if you have trouble distancing yourself. It’s fucking hard. I know from experience how hard it is. Please just promise me you will try your best.
I truly hope things have begun to look up for you. You deserve the best and it hurts my heart that somebody failed to see that and hurt you in the ways he did. I love you so much.
Edit: and fuck that girl for just standing there and watching while he hurt you. She will get her karma too.
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avo-gsy · 4 years
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THIS IS SO SCARY!!!
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I doubt I predict my own fortune could be obviously so stupid from others trying to take advantage of my own life. Better Back the FUCK UP!!!
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I thought I was bad of myself treating others horrible. Because I am not making them feel negative. I wanted to work alone, but I'm in a team. I have lack of communication with others. I hope others will understand me then I will understand them. Everytime I see my teammates, I can tell they wouldn't understand much more possibilities and consequences if they tried to communicate from other groups. I taught them how things works for all the areas I know of. We were having fun yet to be sharp and hardworking in front of our high superiors. My teammates got it down, but those days were my Volunteer Extra Time Work. Anyway, I made a lot of dough!
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Goat got Me!!!! Thank the Lord. It's only a Reversed. I broke off my relationship with my 2 idiot brothers from my father's side. Including my Father.
It was 4 months ago, I was chilling watching anime at my little fat idiot brother's house with my mom. I was suppose to ask father for helpping my car. He went to someone's kid's highschool graduation party. I waited for him until that Demander Poser 2nd Oldest Brother dropped off father at my little fatass brother' s house because father was too drunk. The moment he saw me I knew it was going to be ugly at the end. At first, the Demanding Poser Brother talked to me a nice greeting like "Sup, it's been a while. How you been?" At the middle, He began pressuring me that "if I hate those people who's living in my house I should buy house" and I said "I have no plans because I am comfortable with my life and not bothering them as they don't bother me. I can cope with that situation. It's my life." At last, We end up having a big arguement where he demands my life to be so perfect and be the only one to take care of my mother. He forced me to grow a family because our family name and country are dying. I felt hurt. Me to have a family with stranger I never felt in love and tell lies future kids about my family's past. BULLSHIT! I HAD ENOUGH OF HIS BULLSHITS! My mom came in and asked me if we can go home, but He fucking held me back by my shoulders. I plan to attack him with pepper spray and kick him in the face, but I thought about his girlfriend's family. So, that's why I held myself back. I thought about those so many consequences. I do not want pay my price. I knew him too well. He's always corrupted since he wants more freedom and much more lies inside of him and above to whatever hell he making much more trouble like suicide and stealing food from Winco and telling his friend's mom that our mom died so, he can live with them. I hated him ever since our parents' divorce. Anyway , I had to wait for him to finish. I had to Act like A Brainwashed mind control freak for him.
My father was there with him with our long converstation. Can't believe him, he told me "You stay quiet until he's finish talking." I gave them "I don't give a fuck look". I actually don't give a 2 fucks whateva the hell these assholes were talking about. I am a grown ass adult woman. None of my father's side doesn't understand me. I understood them, but they treat me like shit, a nobody. I'm always a quiet and good-manner in the family from both sides. They didn't see me that way. They finally threw me off from their life.
I first threw them off after my parents' divorce. I was insanely calm psychopath kid. Thank god, I became well mannered human being by my aunt.
After the next day, my mom told me my father called me a useless horrible daughter. I am like wtf??!!! I actually thought back hard from all those years. How am I useless and...horrible???? Then she showed me that Asshole brother of mine posted girls pushed the guy, but fell ass on the floor and get karma video on FaceBook. That was ridiculous. I told her not to show me and never mention about those idiots.
I stopped visiting them after 4 months until my car needs a brake service. The only person I can trust is my little brother. I asked him over text message if he can help me change my brakes without dad and that idiot. He told me he no expert, but only knows basic stuffs. I was wtf does he mean he only knows Basic Stuffs?!?!!
Do you guys know basic stuffs on cars?!?!?!
I DON'T FUCKING KNOW WTH IS "BASIC STUFF" IS!!!
Then he told me only father knows how to fix my car.
I'm just disbelief. I said WITHOUT FATHER!
I told him I can fix my car alone at his place because my place is crowded with cars and people. I need a space.
That fatass just told me to calm down and only dad knows how to fix my car.
Hello??? Did you not read my text??? I know how to change my car part from my car!!! I called him a Bitch. Cause he sounds like one. I treated him respect when I visited him, but now I knew he would be against me.
I want a straight answer. Not a prolong shit in your own shit out of your ass.
I want a Yes and a No. Not a talking bitch explaining the shit that I already knew.
Then he said, "No, you can't. I didn't do anything. You're making hard on everybody."
I'm just wtf you just said to me. You didn't do anything? You fucking said something so stupid out of your mind. Me??? Making hard for everybody??? I asked him How and When??? Then he told me he's done with me. Wow, this bitch turned his tail away from me. I'm glad he threw me out. He did a very horrid in my mom's side of the family. He attacked my little cousin in the bathroom. I didn't know about that till we move another house. I had this future and past psychic sights that my brother attacked her from the past and he gotten kicked out from the house. I thought it was a false vision sight. Until I felt his aura very sinful that makes me remove him with a knife in my hand behind his back. I told I know what you did. He panicked and called mom that I will kill him in the kitchen. I told mom he was in the way of me making a sandwhich which I was eating my sandwhich. My mom believed me than him. That very day, My little cousin kept her mouth shut ever till she called him a Devil. My aunt slapped her so hard because she treated us like her own kids. She cried and couldn't believe what that bastard did to her daughter. My aunt didn't want to call cops on him so, we had to kick him out of the house.
If I were to ask him what he said to me.
He'll end himself.
At the end, he asked me if I died those were your last words?
Bitch, please. If you were dead, those were my last word. I'm his oldest sister. What an idiot he is.
If I would be bumping him some other day.
Calling him out. Oops, still not dead. Live without me, strange boy.
And my father who's a player to all those random ladies he wants to sleep with. He didn't remove his car policy from his old company. I'm still paying for it. He need his ass to remove his shit. He's the primary of that policy. Fuck, why my car in the first place?!!! And I thought I'm worthless.
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Ah, the future.~
I can barely see myself having so much wealth and being active in my job where I have my fun. As for my family, good riddance from that bastard threw off from their side. I'm glad I'm at my mom's side of the family. Some are bad as my father, yet worser for me to see a same repeat. And also repeating their kid's life as my life. Oh god, I pray for them for themselves buy another affordable house. I will still keep on coping and having my goal negativity into postivity! YAY!~
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bigdaddyomega · 4 years
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The Nunz: Chapter 1
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far, far, far, far away, there was a church. This church was far different from an ordinary church. If one were to pass by, they probably would have never expected it to be a church. The appearance of the building seemed very old and rundown. Most were surprised that there were people still living in it. Though it was still very active. The yard and the greenery was indeed a very beautiful sight to see. The pond was perfectly clean where fish and many other small creatures were able to swim freely. The grass was perfectly cut and the flowers began to bloom. Which meant that spring was beginning to come.
Despite the beautiful sight of everything, Alyssa Nelson hated this place. It made her sick to her stomach just to look at it. She despised the way that the building looked. She felt that she would be living under terrible conditions during her stay at this place. If she could go back in time, she would have tried to convince her mom to not even think about sending her to this place that she believed was so horrid. She observed who she assumed were humans wearing silver masks and all black outfits playing a game of football with one another. She believed that they looked intimidating and already decided that she wanted nothing to do with them.
"Mom, do I really have to do this?" Alyssa asked her mom as she turned to look at the older version of herself.
"Yes, it's for your own good." Mrs. Nelson replied to her eighteen year old daughter. Alyssa shook her head.
"But I'm eighteen years old. I shouldn't have to go to rehab." She disagreed.
"It's not rehab. It's an alternative program for you to better yourself. And I am sending you here because you are eighteen. I don't want you to go down the wrong path and end up dead when you're twenty. That's my worst fear." Mrs. Nelson explained. Alyssa could hear the worry in her mother's voice and that made her feel extrmely uneasy.
"They always say that one time won't hurt, but that could not be further from the truth. I want you to better yourself. Just give this place a chance, Alyssa." Her mom said. This was the last time she could convince her child that this was what was best for her. The only response that her daughter gave was to roll her eyes and get out of the vehicle. At this point she knew that she no longer had a choice. All hope was lost for her. She popped the trunk open and began to get all of her belongings out with the help of her mother. Luckily, Alyssa was able to carry it all with both of her hands.
Meanwhile, a girl the same age as Alyssa was still sitting in the car in front of them. She observes the entire area. She admires the beauty of it all. But hates the fact that she has to be here with a passion. Like Alyssa, she felt that she had done nothing wrong. Or at least nothing horrible to where she needs to be here. Her father stared at the spitting image of himself in disgust. He most definitely believed that she deserved to be here. He wanted her to change. He just didn't want the responsibility of helping her to change.
"I hope that you get something out of however long you need to be here. So that you will never do what you did again." He told his daughter in a stern tone. She didn't mind him talking to her in this tone at all. In fact, she wanted to get out of the car so that she could get the hell away from him.
"Alright, later dad." Were this girl's departing words from him. She stepped out of the car and slammed the door to the passenger seat just to spite her father. She opens the back seat of the car and starts to take out each trash bag containing her belongings one at a time. The attention of those who are outside is now on her. Not a single one of those ghouls could take their eyes off her. Some were admiring her beauty. Others were judging by the way that she carried herself. Fire, the smallest ghoul of them all, could not help but to laugh. He did his absolute best to hide it by pretending to cough, and clearly that did not work. His best friend Aether shook his head.
"Dew, Don't laugh, it's not funny." Aether criticized. However, Fire just could not find the strength to stop.
"I can't help it!" Fire almost screamed and began to become hysterical. Those around him could see the tears of laughter streaming down his eyes.
"I really don't get it. She couldn't just ask somebody if she could borrow a suitcase?" Rain commented.
"I bet you she's too poor!" Swiss said. All of the ghouls looked at each other and began to laugh in unison. Fire was right, it indeed was very comical.
The other girl made it to the front of the convent without her father. She wanted to do this alone. It was also too late to want her father with her, he had already driven off. There was no turning back from here. She was officially stuck. Both Alyssa and her mother stare at the girl. Regardless of them judging her, she gave them a smile. Before anybody could say anything, the door opened to reveal a petite aging woman who had long gray hair that was tied back. Though she was aging, she was still very pretty and presented herself very professionally.
"Hello. I'm Sister Imperator, and I'm the director of this institution." The older woman introduced herself. She held out her hand to Mrs. Nelson first. They both shook hands and Sister gave her a smile. This smile was almost too nice. It had the potential to be deceptive.
"Hi, I'm Adele and this is my daughter Alyssa." Mrs. Nelson introduced the two of them. Sister Imperator then shook Alyssa's hand giving her that same smile and turned to the other girl.
"I'm Star. Nice to meet you." The other girl was finally able to reveal the name that she had given to herself just before being here. Sister Imperator furrowed her brows.
"I'm sorry, there has to be a mistake of some sort. I didn't get the name of Star in anyone's paperwork." She stated out of confusion. Star had to think of an answer. She couldn't stand her real name and believed that now was her chance to get away from it.
"Ok, that's just my nickname. If you read my paperwork thoroughly, you would know that my real name is fucking awful. So please, just call me Star." The young girl practically begged. The only instant response that Sister could give was to nod after she shook her hand.
"I understand completely. My real name isn't all that great either. But anyways, it is nice to meet you all. We are so happy to have you join us. Come inside and I'll show you around the convent before we make any final decisions." She said and reentered into her own home. All three of the other women followed her inside. All of their expectations of what this place was going to be were now gone. The interior of this place was absolutely stunning. The entire place was brightly lit due to the row of crystal chandeliers. The pillars surrounding the second floor looked as if they were just built in. The checker printed tiled floor was probably just cleaned minutes before they entered.
Sister Imperator showed them every inch of the inside of the building. From the cafeteria that was empty at the moment, but it was a very clean place. She also showed them an example of the rooms which they are going to be staying in. The king sized beds made both girls tired just by the sight of them. They did not have to lay in them to know that they were extremely comfortable. Even their bathrooms were very luxurious. However, nothing could beat the chapel. This entire area of the large building was the most beautiful of them all. The stain glass windows reflected many colors into the room and behind the altar was a large cross. Alyssa and Star had never seen a crucifix so big in their lives.
"As you all can tell, we are a very Christian organization. We do our best to help late adolesence and young adults to better imporve themselves in order to go out into the real world in just under two years." Sister Imperator explained as she opened the back door which lead to the outside of this place. Everyone followed her. Alyssa and her mom seeming normal, and Star, her eyes were so wide due to thinking about how she may not get out of here until she's twenty. All three women enjoyed the sight of the outside. Mrs. Nelson was observing from a critical view. But the girls were more interested in the football game going on between the ghouls.
"One of the ways of improvement that we have observed throughout this entire program is having at least two hours of physical activity every single day." Sister added her commentary once again. All of them watched as a nameless ghoul named Mountain had the ball in his hands. He was trying to throw it, but another ghoul named Swiss was blocking him from doing so.
"Swiss, move!" Mountain yelled in a very annoyed tone. However, Swiss did not respect his request and actually did the exact opposite. Swiss made the wise decision to kick Mountain in the ballsack. This was the worst feeling in the world for ghouls and humans alike. Mountain held onto his crotch area as if he was holding on for dear life. The only female ghoul out there at the moment took notice of what had happened. Cumulus was probably one of the most caring individuals of anyone in this place. Not only that, but anyone who came into contact with her found her to be adorable.
"Blow the whistle! Blow the whistle!" Were the only words that Mountain could say at the moment. Cumulus did just that.
"Half time!" She called out. Everyone groaned out of annoyance because one of the two teams was on the verge of winning.
"Typical." Swiss shook his head. He kicked Mountain in that same area again. But this time the pain was a lot worse than the previous kick.
"Let me ask you something, if this is such a Christian envirionment, then how come all of them over there are wearing devil masks?" Mrs. Nelson inquired.
"Oh well, it's one of the forms of punishments that we have here. That would mean that they comitted a mortal sin." Sister replied. Mrs. Nelson nodded even though she may not have agreed with that. It seemed that this was the end of the entire tour, and it was now time to make the decision whether or not Alyssa would be staying there. Alyssa was hoping and praying to the god that she doesn't believe in, that her mother has changed her mind.
"So, the last thing that I need to go over with you is pricing. I have the bill right here for you to make the final decision." Sister went into her jacket to take out an average piece of paper. Mrs. Nelson took it and her eyes nearly came out of their sockets as a result of reading the price.
"So, this is the price per year, correct?" She asked.
"No. Actually per week." Sister replied. Mrs. Nelson turned to her daughter and then placed her signature on the bottom of the paper. At this moment, Alyssa was officially doomed. She hated this feeling more than anything. She felt that she was about to have a heart attack.
"I'll pay for it the best way that I can, even if that means me getting a loan. But please help my daughter to improve. That's really what I want for her." Alyssa's mother said. Sister Imperator placed her hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry about that, she's in good hands with us." Sister reassured her. Alyssa and her mother shared one last hug with each other. This was the last embrace that they would have with one another for a long time. Potentially two years if her mother could not afford another flight to come see her. Her mother told her that she loved her as they left each other's embrace. Alyssa didn't tell her mother that she loved her back. In fact, she wanted nothing to do with her at that moment. She wondered how her mother could say that she loved her but send her to a place like this.
Once her mother had driven away, Sister Imperator's smile completely disappeared. She was now completely serious. It was almost like she had mutated right before their eyes. It scared both girls because they had no idea what to expect next.
"Alright bitches, listen up. Almost everything that I had said was complete and utter bullshit. I really could care less about your well being. I only do this program because I love my money. So if you two can keep your goddamn mouths shut for two years, then maybe your life won't be so miserable here!" She explained in a very feisty tone.
"So, this isn't a church?" Star wanted clarification. Out of all the question to ask, she asked that one.
"It is, just not a Christian church." Sister Imperator answered. Star nodded and then she tried to figure out what kind of church it really was.
"Now, you two should be escorted to your rooms. Cardinal!" Sister Imperator directed. Now the girls had their hopes up. Only because they saw how comfortable the beds were and only wanted to get at least an hour of sleep at the moment. A young looking man appeared suddenly. He was wearing all black and his light brown hair was neatly in place while the hat was able to stay on top of his head. Both of the girls thought he was sort of odd looking.
"Cardinal, this is Alyssa and Star, they are new potential sacrifices. Could you please escort these ladies to their new rooms?" Sister Imperator requested.
"Of course." Cardinal Copia answered and motioned for the two young women to follow him. Copia lead them back inside along with all of their stuff. When he noticed all of the luggage that they had, he was reminded of what needs to be done.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I need you to leave your belongings right here." He said. Both girls gave him a confused stare.
"What? Why?" Alyssa questioned.
"You're not allowed to have anything personal here. Anything that you need we'll provide for you." He explained.
"So then what's going to happen to my shit?" Star asked.
"You'll get it back when you're released." He said. Both of the girls dropped their stuff on the floor and displayed as much attitude as they could.
"You're making this shit sound like a prison." Star commented.
"Shut up and follow me." Cardinal Copia ordered and continued walking. Both of the girls followed him and now felt empty without carrying all of their belongings. He leads them down to a dark stairway. For them it was very scary. Star was wondering what the hell they needed to go into the basement for. Because that was what this place was, a basement. The further down they went, the more spearated from the sunlight they became. It took them about five total minutes to make it to the floor. It was cold and made of pure concrete. Alyssa jumped as soon as she saw the pentogram spray painted red on the floor. She didn't really know why she was so scared of it. It was only a geometric shape. But to her, there was just something so eerie about it. Star looked down as well and the symbol did not even phase her on the outside. But on the inside she was just as scared.
"So creepy." Alyssa whispered. Star nodded agreeing with her. Cardinal Copia stopped at a door on the side wall and took out an entire ring of many keys. Somehow he was able to pick out the right one to unlock the door. When the door opened, he motioned for the two of them to go inside. When they stepped in, neither of the girls were impressed. There were just two rows of twelve beds on each side. The only light source that they have is a single lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling. They both looked extremely disappointed.
"You're not going to tell me that this is our room." Alyssa protested.
"Pick a bed." Cardinal Copia said and closed the door from there. Both Alyssa and Star heard the sound of a click before the footsteps leaving the basement. That one click scared both girls to death. Alyssa immediately sprinted over and tried to turn the knob of the door. She couldn't. Neither of them could even try to break the door down. Both turned to each other with anxiety taking over the both of them.
"Shit. I hate to break it to you, but we're locked in." Alyssa revealed.
Author’s Note: wasn’t that shitty as fuck? Yeah I agree. But this is the first chapter of my first Ghost fanfic. As I said in my previous post, this is on my Wattpad but I’m going to post it on here. Enjoy regardless and I love y’all.💀❤️
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honeyrisuke · 4 years
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I wanna rant and this is my damn blog so you cant stop me
its gonna be a vague and I’m sure the person who this is about isn’t even following me here or active on here at all so dw about it
so, I used to have a friend for YEARS and in the beginning we were super close and besties, and then because I was honestly quite insufferable and at the peak of my self hatred, incapable of doing basic self care, dysphoric, all of that I ended up acting out horribly A LOT. It was bad and I honestly feel really terirble about it and it kinda broke the relationship?? like, I made some super weird and bad choices and sometimes provoked fights for absolutely no reason, plus other things I struggled with communication wise
and usually it would just result in me being insanely angry for seemingly no reason, screaming, getting super aggressive at everybody around me, spewing insults and getting extremely catty just to then at some point seemingly get what I was doing and start being extremely self destructive and depressed and tell the other person horrid, usually manipulative stuff trying to “make them believe how sorry I was”. In retrospect and after therapy I can tell that that’s a very typical behaviorial pattern of a kid with one or more parents/guardians who struggle with borderline, but back then I had no clue what to do about it or how to deal w it.
however, looking back I can definitely see the point where he stopped being sincerely upset and started feeding into it in order to make me act up worse. I know he had trauma, I know he struggled with stuff himself, so it might have something to do with that or learned behavior or something but he would wait till my anger died down and I started to just be self destructive and then push in on that, which usually started the anger back up just to make me fall again. It was honestly really strange and I remember that I tried to stop it at times but my head was reeling so bad that I couldn’t even be alone with my thoughts, I was sincerely terrified and since I had no idea how to cope with it I would keep on texting him and basically NEEDING HIM to tell me I was okay
ok so lil tangent because I feel like I need to clarify this:
that kinda behavior stands in connection with the general behavior of my mom. she needs constant arguments and fights to keep herself afloat, but she doesn’t wanna start them- because she likes putting herself into the victim role. to this day she provokes people until THEY have enough and get angry at her and then she argues until she starts crying and then demands an apology. However, since she NEEDS this type of stress in her life, it doesn’t need to be a real and calm and loving apology, she needs you to *make it clear how sorry you are*. Anything from full on crying to falling to your knees to telling her “I should never have been born” is okay and she will usually end that with a hug and suddenly everything is fine again- but an apology that is less dramatic and more sincere will never be accepted because its “not a real apology”.
so when I got angry for no reason, it was more so that my brain picked up on certain things that my mom would do to provoke an argument. little pokes, like eating loudly, dropping pointy comments, suddenly getting very loud, interrupting me as I speak. then, because I was conditioned to do that, I would get insanely angry and attack the person across from me who did absolutely nothing wrong, and at some point I would realize “oh no, why tf did I do that” and immediately slump down and insult myself and tell the other person I shouldn’t be alive. And the longer the other person didnt tell me “it’s okay” and have the world be okay again, the more violent my threats against myself become because my brain didn’t understand why I wasn’t doing enough.
it’s extremely toxic and it took therapy and learning to understand what the fuck is even going on to get rid of it- and I am absolutely not excusing it. I understand how bad it was for everybody around me and I’m honestly very proud to say that I haven’t done that in a VERY long time, at least not to that horrible extend.
so, that broke the relationship, but he kept on holding onto me and at the time I thought that was because he liked me, but didn’t know how to just move on from there. We had on/off moments, we stumbled a bit and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he really really disliked me. The fact that he sometimes wouldn’t respond to me for weeks while being very active and social in public servers and stuff and was obviously planning fun things in private with other people didn’t help it, because even if he was exhausted and needed time for himself, it meant that I was obviously not somebody he was comfortable with at this time-
but whenever I asked him about it, he told me it was nothing and I was being paranoid and toxic again
and I believed that!! It made sense, I have been paranoid about people randomly hating me forever and I was probably always wrong
until I wasn’t.
there were people who I was sure couldn’t stand me, and I would try to avoid them because it made me uncomfortable- but whenever I brought it up to him he would get angry at me for being paranoid- and then later I would learn that I was actually completely correct about my assumption and that person had already disliked me before I even took notice of it.
it was really odd how people surrounding him seemed to also dislike me, and I thought that was my weird warped self hating perception, but unfortunately it turned out to be right more often than not
and all of that reached its peak when I joined the same roleplay server as him, put a lot of work and effort into what I did in there and was eventually bullied out of it.
I’m not gonna get into that because that’s its whole own eco system of garbage, but the moment I entered I already felt weird pressure and like I was not exactly welcome. It all slowly got worse, what I did didn’t get anywhere and I eventually caught wind of it and tried carefully asking people if we are okay, if anything is wrong. Every last one of them always told me I was okay and I shouldn’t be paranoid until one of them, who would constantly write provocative stuff directed at me but never engaged in an actual conversation with me, told me how uncomfortable I made them and others and insisted that I stop texting them, blocking me.
to this day I have no idea what I ever did to them. I never attacked them, I never got rude. They just suddenly ghosted everything we started and then claimed I made them uncomfortable out of nowhere. the only thing: I just realized they seem to be best friends with my old friend.
there’s no morale here, I just. 
He’s very charismatic. He’s the kinda person to enter a room and everybody immediately likes him. I’ve watched him enter servers that I struggled to be heard in and immediately make like 5 friends. People love this guy.
me not so much. I’m clumsy in social settings, I’m quiet, and sometimes I don’t dare speaking up at all.
and it’s honestly making me very uncomfortable that somebody who can pull people onto their side within a split second hates me enough to make other people dislike me.
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