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ovaryacted · 4 months

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HANDSY

PAIRING: Jackson! Joel Miller x afab! reader || WC: 1.2k

SYNOPSIS: Your cycle is ruining your mood, and what better thing to do than get a free massage.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Suggestive content. Titty massage. Slight daddy kink. Established relationship. Joel being a little bastard. Ambiguous age gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in their 20s). Mentions of menstrual cycle and female characteristics about the chest. Banter and teasing. No use of y/n.

A/N: Alright, I'm kinda on a Joel Miller streak and I was just thinking about getting my tiddies rubbed by a man with strong & rough hands and this happened. Don't look at me like that okay, this is self indulgent and I just had to alright. Hopefully this is relatable for some of y'all lol. Shout out to everyone who has to deal with periods, you are stronger than the marines. Anyways, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

➣ TLOU was created by a zionist and is based off of the Israeli occupation of Palestine. Please refer to this link to learn how you can help the Palestinian people.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

Another month. Another week of unruly irritation, mood swings, and uncomfortable reactions to anything that breathed too hard or moved too fast. In the hecticness that was your current reality, dealing with the devil’s wrath was supposed to be something that slipped past your mind. Yet, in the efforts of your survival, having a menstrual cycle still took you off guard every time it came punching through your gut.

Tossing and turning in bed, you tried to get in the best position to ease your cramps by curling up in a fetal position. You thought it would make things better, but instead, the discomfort you felt all over your body pissed you off even more. A frustrated grumble filled the bedroom, flinging the sheets away and furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of relief.

Where the fuck is he?

Throwing on a pair of slippers you luckily claimed on a supply run, you shuffled down the creaky stairs of your home and wandered about until you reached the living room. Joel was hunched over his seat on the couch, currently messing with his guitar strings, aware of your presence the moment you hit the base of the stairway.

“Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” He questioned you as he took in your features and noticed your pout. You were upset; that was obvious when he found you in bed earlier today instead of somewhere else in the house. Simply kissing your forehead and letting you rest as best as he could, he expected you to come down to talk to him eventually when you had the energy to do so.

Joel didn’t say anything as you came closer to him without uttering a word, slipping your legs over his thick thighs and pressing your face into the curve of his neck. He put his guitar to the side and wrapped his strong arms around your waist, hands instinctively digging into your lower back where you felt the most sore. He could tell from the way you clung to him that it was that time of the month, already having gotten used to your changes in demeanor to see the signs.

“Uncomfortable?” Joel asked again, trying to get a better read on your emotions, but he only received an annoyed grunt in response. “Guess we’re just gonna sit here then.”

He ran his fingers up and down your spine, trying his best to lessen the strain you felt. He could snag some herbs to make you tea later if you were in the mood for it, but right now, a massage is what you could handle. His touch made you sigh with alleviation, focusing on the pressure points along your shoulder and backbone. Even with his attempts, the front of your body continued to ache.

“My boobs are fucking killing me.” You declared out loud, a deep rumble of a chuckle escaping from the back of his throat.

“You need me to massage them?” Joel offered, and his intention of doing that was purely to make you feel better. Though, you couldn’t ignore the slight flutter in your belly at the idea of having his hands elsewhere.

Giving him a nod, you sat straighter on his lap, holding his gaze as he slipped his hands underneath the flannel you wore and made a beeline for your chest. Joel didn’t flinch at the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, being told once or twice how freeing it was not to have to deal with the constant friction of clothes against your heated skin.

He palmed both of your breasts and squeezed, his grip just strong enough to calm the throbbing of the swelling from your change in hormones. Your eyes closed as you focused on his touch, allowing Joel to do whatever he wanted with you, what he knew best.

“Feelin’ better?” You heard him ask, humming out in reply. He grinned at your reaction, the hum sounding close to a purr as he pawed at your chest.

Taking his hands out from underneath your—his shirt, you whined, a smirk tugging at the corners of Joel’s lips. Lifting the top of the flannel to rest on your collarbone, his attention went back to your breasts, looking at them with a mix of desire and affectionate pity.

“Poor baby. Hormones got my girl all cranky and upset.” He said, placing a soft kiss on the top of each breast before handling your body once more. You don’t know whether or not he was deliberately teasing you when you were the most vulnerable, but just hearing his voice was doing wonders to soothe your nerves.

You’ve always been fascinated with Joel’s hands since you met him, watching how he’d hold the handle of his gun or insert ammo into the magazine before reloading. His palms were rough, and his fingers were rougher, representing a man who’s lived a long life, who’s done unspeakable things to survive and get to this point. To most, they’d dislike the feeling of having so much of a contrast, but to you, the difference of his skin against yours was almost euphoric.

Joel squeezed with more purpose, focusing on tightening his grasp along the sides where the pain was the most prominent. One harsh thumb came to stroke at your sensitive nipple in gentle circles, pulling a breathless moan from between your lips. The smile on his face widened when his ears picked up the sound, moving to do a combination of deliberate squeezes and circles on the exposed nubs.

The warmth of his touch morphed into something else, need coiling in your stomach and clawing up your throat. As discretely as you could, your hips shifted further into his, craving much more than what he was giving you. Joel couldn’t help himself and brought you closer to him, grinding his hips up into yours. That got your attention, looking into his hazel eyes to find his pupils narrowly dilated.

“If you need me to rub somethin’ else, I can.” Despite the years worn on his face, he still had a certain boyish charm that jerked at your heartstrings when he flirted with you. Or, maybe it was just his southern gentleman persona, ever so willing to tend to your needs no matter what they may be.

“You’re annoying.” You mumbled to him, stubbornly refusing to outright beg for his affection, regardless of how badly you craved it.

“And you’re moody.” Joel kissed you tenderly, drawing away and snickering when you leaned forward to chase his lips for another.

“Let daddy make you feel good. Alright, darlin’?” You nodded dumbly at the proposition of getting something more than your tits massaged.

His eyes flashed with lust, making quick work to peel off the flannel and toss it to the ground. Already growing hard at the thought of having his way with you, he tilted towards you, kissing the column of your neck and letting his beard tickle your skin. You released a shaky exhale, fingers running through his graying hair and tipping your head back to grant him more access to your skin.

“Atta girl.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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poohsources · 8 months

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🐝 * ― 𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑴 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑷𝑻. 𝑰.

❛ it was wrong of me to assume you're ever gonna change. ❜ ❛ that's it? it was all just a lie? ❜ ❛ shame on me for thinking you were a good person. ❜ ❛ you're gonna pay for what you did to me. ❜ ❛ you didn't hear a word of what i just said, did you? ❜ ❛ believe me, you weren't my first choice either. ❜ ❛ if you've got a problem with the way i handle things, just say so. ❜ ❛ do you think we're gonna survive this? ❜ ❛ what's your problem?! ❜ ❛ will you please slow down a little? ❜ ❛ i can't believe you would do something like that. ❜ ❛ did it mean anything to you? ❜ ❛ i'm never gonna be good enough for you. ❜ ❛ we were just fooling ourselves this whole time. ❜ ❛ i'm sorry, i didn't know where else to go. ❜ ❛ i don't want to argue with you anymore. ❜ ❛ fine. you were right, and i was wrong. happy now? ❜ ❛ this day feels like it's never gonna end. ❜ ❛ i didn't think you'd care so much. ❜ ❛ this must be like the first time you were nice to me. ❜ ❛ out of all the people here, why do i have to be stuck with you? ❜ ❛ do you want to go on a date with me? ❜ ❛ honestly, i don't think i wanna leave the house today. ❜ ❛ were you ever planning on telling me about all of this? ❜ ❛ i wish i had another choice. ❜ ❛ don't flatter yourself, a fifth-grader could've done this as well. ❜ ❛ you're the most insufferable person i have ever met. ❜ ❛ here, you look like you need this more than me right now. ❜ ❛ oh, just so you know, i don't ever lose this game. ❜ ❛ just let me sleep for five more minutes. ❜ ❛ alright, is there anything else we have to do before they arrive? ❜ ❛ do you believe in ghosts? ❜ ❛ i wish we had more time together. ❜ ❛ you don't have to leave just yet ... you could stay the night if you wanted to. ❜ ❛ where are you taking me? ❜ ❛ trust me, this is the last thing i want to do. ❜ ❛ i need more time to think about what i want. ❜ ❛ why didn't you say anything earlier? we could've avoided this whole mess. ❜ ❛ i don't feel so good, i think i may be getting sick. ❜ ❛ help me! please! ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #sentence starters #rph #type: meme

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exhaslo · 4 months

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Over-Time Ch5

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4

Warning: MINORS DNI, sexual thoughts, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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Today was the day. You were finally going to practice being on your own with Miguel while Lyla watched. There was a busy schedule, but you were confident that you could handle it. Lyla had prepped you pretty well for this.

Taking deep breathes as you prepared the meeting room, you did a double check to make sure that everything was perfect. Reviewing your notes, you smiled as you felt confident in your work. All you had to do now was survive the meeting with Miguel.

"Wow, someone is prepared." Miguel hummed as he entered the large office, "You're not working too hard, right?"

"O-Oh, um...no...I just want to make sure...that everything is perfect for you and your shareholders."

"Thank you, (Y/N)," Miguel smiled, patting your head gently.

You bit your lower smile, trying to hide your smile as you glanced up at Miguel. He was still so kind to you. These little moments made your heart flutter so much. It was hard to not think about Miguel liking you, but those were just thoughts.

"No problem, sir...I just want to make sure...that I do a good job for you,"

-------

Miguel inhaled sharply as he moved his hand away from your head. Why did you have to be so goddamn tempting? Lyla might not have been wrong about him eventually fucking you.

You were just so adorable and sweet. Miguel felt horrible about the thoughts he was having. Your soft voice crying out his name as he thrusted his dick inside you. Watching you flutter against him, begging him to go rougher.

The thoughts of you riding his dick while trying to prove yourself while calling him, 'sir'. Lord, Miguel could barely hold back his erections time and time again. Listening to your shy and honest thoughts was so refreshing.

"You always do," Miguel hummed and motioned you to the side, "Just take notes of the meeting. Don't let them intimidate you,"

"Yes, sir."

Sir. Oh Miguel was going to develop of kink for that if you keep calling him that. Quickly taking a seat to hide his erection, Miguel glanced at you from the side. You were sitting in your little desk, typing away on your tablet.

You were far too nice to be working for him. A shy little mouse that was being eyed as prey. Miguel had to hide his smile as he wondered what it would take for you to crack. It was nice to have to yearn for someone who didn't lust over him immediately.

---------

The tension in the air felt almost insufferable as scary looking men filled the room. Your heart was beginning to race as they all gave you a cold stare. You were starting to feel out of place. Like you weren't allowed to be there.

"What happened to your secretary, Miguel? The one who bites?"

"She's starting her several month long vacation,"

"Praise be. Does this one bite too?"

Biting? Lyla didn't tell you anything about that, but you could see her doing such a thing. Lyla was funny in her own unique way.

"I won't allow her too." Miguel said with a smile as he glanced towards you.

Oh! You hitched your breathing as you felt your cheeks warm up. You were prepared for such a comment from Miguel. That smile of his was so charming. Realizing that you were staring for too long, you quickly returned to your tablet.

The meeting felt like eternity. You had managed to not doze off, but you were worried that your notes were now lacking. You and Miguel were the last to leave the room. Once the other men were gone, you felt like you could breathe again.

"Good job, you didn't fall asleep," Miguel chuckled lowly as he approached you, "Did you play any games on the tablet?"

"Games?" You questioned. Miguel just gave you another charming smile,

"What a hard worker. I should reward you,"

---------

How cute could you be? Miguel watched as your eyes widen to his comments. That sparkle your lovely orbs gave captivated him. Miguel had to urge to cup your cheek, wanting to feel those lips against his. Did you even know the way you were looking at him?

"I'm just...doing my job, sir," You muttered, biting your lip as you glanced away.

Miguel groaned softly as he raised your head. His thumb stroking your chin as you continued to look at him with those curious eyes of yours.

"Um...Did Lyla really...bite people?" You asked. Miguel couldn't hold his laughter,

"Indeed. Even spooked me the first time," He chuckled, pressing his thumb against your lip, "Care to give it a try?"

"B-Biting?" You stuttered. Miguel watched his thumb rest against your lower lip, "I-I c-couldn't! T-That...that would be-ah! S-Sorry, sir! I didn't mean too!!"

You were apologizing profusely. As you were rambling about how you couldn't do such a thing, you had accidently bit Miguel's thumb. You panicked and grabbed his hand, rubbing it as you kept apologizing.

Miguel, on the other hand, needed to leave. His erection was growing tight as he started to have dirty thoughts of you again. It was a gentle bite, but Miguel had his fantasies explode. Imagining those eyes of yours tearing up as he asked you to bite him while bullying that pussy of yours...

"It's fine, (Y/N)...I merely tease," Miguel groaned lowly, "We have some time before my next meeting. Go report to Lyla about how you did."

"A-Are you sure? You're not hurt?"

"No, cariño (sweetheart). It would take more to hurt me," Miguel comforted you with a smile.

--------

You were a nervous wreck. Miguel told you that he was fine, but you still couldn't help but apologize. You didn't mean to bite him. It was an accident, but...the way he was looking at you. It was strange. Miguel said it as a tease, but it seem like he wanted you to bite him.

Perhaps it was watching too many romance dramas, but Miguel seemed like he was interested in you. Slapping your cheeks as you hurried to Lyla's office, you knew that it was just a silly thought.

Miguel was the CEO of Alchemax. He probably already had a line of women waiting to marry him. All of them much more mature and composed compared to you. None of them a clumsy, shy fool like you were.

"Hey, (Y/N)! How'd it go?" Lyla asked. You whimpered, covering your face from embarassment,

"I accidently bit Miguel's thumb!"

"Huh?"

Lyla was staring at you, dumbfounded, for a good minute before bursting into laughter. She motioned you over, moving your hands away from your face.

"Hehe, don't cry, (Y/N). I'm surprised you did such a thing. Normally I'm the one who bites people," Lyla laughed, "Now I know that you'll do fine."

"But-"

"No buts. Miguel could use a little snip back here and there. Listen, after today you will be all on your own with that Spider. Decorate this place how you see fit to comfort you, but don't let yourself get caught in the webs of this place."

"Didn't you say...that Miguel won't do anything?" You asked, a little confused now. Lyla sat beside you, sighing softly,

"It isn't Miguel I'm worried about. People around here fear me for obvious reasons, but you? You're fresh meat. They will do what they can to break you and get to Miguel."

"H-Huh?!"

"You'll have to wear Miguel's pants in order to keep them away."

"M-Miguel's p-p-pants?!" You squeaked.

Lyla, once again, burst into a fit of laughter. She had to explain to you that it was just an expression she used. After explaining a bit more, Lyla looked at the time and had you fixed up for the next meeting. You were thankful for having such a good teacher.

"Now, tell me how you managed to bite our stern CEO?"

---------

"And here I was more worried about (Y/N) falling for you, but you stooping this low?" Lyla huffed as she barged Miguel's doors open.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh. And that little biting incident was truly an accident?" Miguel glanced at Lyla, "(Y/N)'s face was red as a tomato."

"Accident's happen." Miguel said with a soft sigh, "Besides, how many of my business partners have you bitten?"

"That's different. Don't you remember what we talked about?"

"I did. Whom I chose to spend my time with is none but my business. If anyone questions it, then they don't deserve my time. I merely want to protect (Y/N)-"

"By making her yours?" Lyla said with a smirk. Miguel exhaled,

"Aren't you on vacation time now?"

"Fine, fine. Don't miss me too much these next few months," Lyla said with a heavy sigh, "When I come back I don't want to hear about (Y/N) accidently landed on your dick-"

"LYLA!"

Miguel felt flustered as Lyla snickered on her way out. Groaning lowly, Miguel knew that Lyla had a point. They literally just talked about that snake that could come and hurt you if she found out that Miguel liked you.

But how could Miguel ignore his feelings? For the first time in a long time, Miguel wanted someone. He wanted you so bad that it sounded silly. The two of you just met and Miguel was ready to fuck you into being his girl.

"It'll be fine. It's just a few months."

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Next Chapter

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#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader

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smokeysweater · 4 months

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Masterlist It had been a good arrangement so far. You and John I mean, it had been pretty comfortable since you originally applied for the ad, it still baffled you that nobody else wanted this, 250 pounds every two weeks, to live in a nice house in the gorgeous countryside, with a roommate who is barely here. Even when John is here, he’s civil and nice. Doesn’t talk to you unless needed, using the sweetest of nicknames when he does as well. ” hey sweetheart, I’m about to run to the grocery store, ya need anything?” ”let me just squeeze right past you, doll” ” Thanks for the dinner love, it's delicious as always.” His voice, that deep, smooth British tone mixed with the most knee-dropping nicknames, it’s a wonder how you’ve survived this long with him invading your mind every time you go to bed. so it was a good thing you two had going on, he left for months on end, leaving you with the house you barely paid rent for, you’ve seen the bill, you know it’s not 250 pounds, that barely scraps it. You’ve tried confronting him about it, but he just hit you right back with a “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, just let me handle it.” …yeah you didn’t fight back against that one. honestly, before you realise it, three years have passed, 3 nice years of having a giant, beautiful house in the countryside all by yourself with a sometimes roommate and only paying dirt for rent, and you might be the luckiest person you know. it had occurred to you one day however, since it had been three years since you’ve started living with John, or as you’ve heard some people call him, Captain Price, that you two were common law.So, you thought it was at least a little funny, so you brought it up one day. You had been waiting for a week when he was home, it had been a bit since he got back, you decided now would be the moment to tell him, with you two sitting at the dining table eating a dinner John had prepared for you two The utensil’s that clattered and Clinked against the plates filled the mostly silent room, there was no tension against you two, just happy to let the quiet fill the air, so you took this as an oppuritinty to tell the older man. “Hey John,” you spoke, prompting him to look up, baby blue eyes peering up at you, threatening to still your very being. “You know, since it’s been three years since we’ve lived together, we’re technically in a common law marriage now, funny right? I mean you're barely here but the kingdom decides we’re ‘married’” You chuckled, putting air quotations at the married part, you didn’t look Price in the eyes when you said this, focusing on the plate in front of you. so you were unable to see the way his eyes darkened, how his knuckles seemed to whiten with how tightly he gripped his knife and fork. His breathing silently froze for a moment, but the moment you looked back up again, he went back to normal, as if to hide what motions exactly ran through him like a fright train. ” that so?.. spouse we should do something to celebrate, huh doll?” Price asked, in the hushed velvety tone he always carried when talking to you. you shrugged, uncaring. “I mean, we don’t have to, I don’t think it matters, we’re not married.” You reminded Price casually, too preoccupied to see the way Price twitched at that.

”I suppose not.” He mumbled back.

That small moment set off a chain of events that would change your relationship for the better or worse.

the next morning, you felt stranger than usual, it felt.. weird, and wrong. But, naive ol’ you, shrugged it off, getting up for the day, but when you looked down at you beside the table to grab your phone, you noticed something. curiously, you picked up a ring, a pretty little thing, the red gem glinting bright in the Sun, the silver band attached to it feeling smooth and cool against your skin. next to it, was a small note. ’Hey sweetheart. Had to leave early, I’ll be back, I promise, I got you something for Our marriage, Hope you like it. Be back soon To Mx Price. Love, John Price’ what the fuck.

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verstappen-cult · 2 months

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STUPID CUPID, M. VERSTAPPEN

CHAPTER 01: OF ALCOHOL AND BAD DECISIONS

✶ SUMMARY. Making decisions when you’ve had too much to drink is the worst thing someone can do, but it’s exactly what Lando does. He has 100€, a plan and a friend in need of a new camera. What could possibly go wrong?

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. oscar being an overprotective brother. alcohol consumption. i don’t specify what they’re studying, just that they’re in the same university & some of them share classes. use of Y/N. attempted humor. attempted banter. a little bit of landoscar.

NEXT PART | SERIES MASTERLIST.

“Remember to keep your things close to you at all times. Do you still have the pepper spray I gave you last summer?” Your brother talks as he walks by your side. He woke you up this morning to have a last walk around campus, so you won’t get lost Monday morning on your first day. He doesn’t wait for you to answer before adding, “I’m always gonna be around but you need to—”

“Oscar,” You place a hand on his shoulder to make him stop. “I’m ten minutes younger than you, and I’ve been traveling around Europe alone for the last four months. I think I can handle myself.”

“I just want you to be careful.”

“If I survived High School, I think I can survive anything.”

He smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders to resume walking. “I can’t believe you finally decided to join me here. This past year has been awful without you.”

“You’re exaggerating.” You chuckle, wrapping your own arm around his waist. “I just needed some time away to clear my head,” You shrug, a hesitant smile gracing your lips. There’s so much inside your head, so much you want to say to him, but you’re not brave enough to say it out loud. You’ve never been. “And I know our parents wanted us to go to the same university since, like, forever. I couldn’t disappoint them.” Not again.

You’re passing outside the Ice Rink when you run into one of Oscar’s friends.

“Hey!” One guy, whose name you can’t remember, approaches you both. He’s wearing his hockey uniform, sport bag hanging over his shoulder and a hockey stick in his left hand. “We missed you at practice today, mate. Hey, Y/N.”

His smile is so contagious, you feel bad for not remembering his name. You turn to look at your brother and just one exchange of glances is enough for him to understand.

“Hey, Alex.” He pulls away from you to clasp a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I just wanted to show my sister some places.”

“Oh yeah! You start on Monday, right?” You don’t even have time to open your mouth before he’s speaking again. “Are you nervous?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and nod one time. “A little,” It’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about since you moved in with your brother a few days ago. There is so much you still need to do, the rest of your clothes aren’t even here yet, but you are more worried about finally starting your uni life than anything else. “but I prefer not to think about it.”

“I keep telling her she has nothing to worry about.” The smile on your brother’s face is the same one you saw six months ago before he left for his second year at University and you left for your trip, the ‘i’m so proud of you’ kind of smile. “She’s sharing classes with Charles, actually.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna be in good hands.” Alex says it with a laugh, that only earns him a hit on the head from your brother. “Anyway, we have that party tonight at Lando’s. Are you coming?”

You don’t miss the way his cheeks heat up in a blush. “No, we can’t. Maybe another time.”

“You can,” You interrupt him. It is the second time he turns down an invitation just to stay with you. “I need to finish organizing the last of my stuff. Boring stuff. You should definitely go, it’s Saturday, Osc.”

“Yeah but—”

“He’ll be there.” Alex tries to hide his laugh but doesn’t do a good job.

“I’m pretty sure someone’s gonna be very happy.”

“Goodbye, Alex!”

Oscar grabs your arm, giving you barely enough time to turn around and wave a goodbye to his friend before he drags you away.

“What was he talking about?”

“Don’t know,” He simply answers, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “What do you say we grab some lunch?”

The party’s in full swing when Oscar walks through the door of his friend’s apartment.

It is definitely a party organized by Lando; too many people in a cramped space, his DJ friend in a corner of the living room and everyone making out with everyone. Just the kind of party only Lando likes.

Oscar makes his way into the kitchen, needing some liquid courage.

“You came!” Alex shows up out of nowhere, he notices his friend is holding a beer in his left hand as he wraps his arm around his shoulders. Oscar doesn’t know how much he’s had to drink, but he smells too much like alcohol for his liking.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, full of different kinds of alcohol and chips, is Charles and his girlfriend.

“Hey,” Charles raises his own beer as a greeting. “Where’s your sister?”

“Don’t tell me you left her alone in your apartment.” Charles’ girlfriend frowns, throwing daggers at him.

Oscar throws his hands up in surrender. “She didn’t want to come. I insisted but she still has things to organize.”

“You should give her my number,” Alex, Charles’ girlfriend says with a smile, snuggling closer to his boyfriend. “I’m sure we’re gonna get along.”

Oscar opens his mouth to actually ask for her number when the thunderous voice of none other than Lando Norris interrupts him.

“Oscar! You came!” Lando hugs him from behind, spilling some of his drink on the floor. But he doesn’t even notice, he’s more focused on finding his cheek to kiss.

“Hey, Lando.” Oscar blushes. Blushes hard. He’s glad the dim lighting can hide how Lando makes him feel. “Good party.”

Lando smiles, sliding next to him and bumping shoulders. “Glad you like it.” Oscar finds himself returning the smile.

“Please stop flirting in front of me or I’m gonna throw up in your faces.” Alex rolls his eyes and Lando hits him in the chest.

Oscar finds it cute the way Lando’s cheeks heat up at the joke. He downs the last of his drink and Oscar has to fight the urge to wipe a drop of liquor from his bottom lip.

He hasn’t even had a drink. What’s wrong with him?

He’s thankful when Charles hands him a beer, so he has something else to do rather than stand there like an idiot ogling at Lando and wondering what his lips would taste like.

One minute they’re all hanging out in the kitchen, drinking and talking about the next hockey game — the boys threatening him if he misses another practice — and the next one he’s sitting on the couch with Lando glued to his side, one of his legs over his lap.

Oscar looks down at his phone, his last text to you still without an answer.

[00:25] Oscar: Are you okay? Do you need anything?

He sighs, typing a new message.

[00:30] Oscar: I hope you’re just busy and nothing bad happened.

[00:31] Oscar: I’m going to buy pizza on my way back home.

“Oscar?”

He immediately looks up to find Lando looking at him with a pout.

“Sorry, I needed to text my sister.”

He reaches forward and boops Oscar on the nose with his index finger. “You worry too much. Isn’t she the same age as you?”

“Well, yeah.” Oscar feels a little silly now but doesn’t say anything. “But she doesn’t know anyone around here, so I don’t wanna leave her alone for so long.”

Lando flops his head onto Oscar’s shoulder and gazes up at him with his big, brown eyes.

“You’re cute.”

Oscar can’t help himself. He lifts his hand and pushes an errant curl behind Lando’s ear, fingers lingering on his cheek.

“You’re cute, too.” Oscar says, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Lando’s eyes are wide as he stares at Oscar.

Oscar breathes into the air and Lando’s expression softens as he moves closer, breaths mingling and faces flushed. They’re so close that Oscar can count the freckles on his face.

The moment is interrupted by the ping of Oscar’s phone announcing a new message.

Oscar pulls away, hands reaching for his phone beside him.

[00:48] You: sorry was busy trying to fit all my clothes in your tiny closet

[00:48] You: pizza sounds good! im starving

[00:49] You: hope you’re…

He doesn’t finish reading the third message, he just gets up after the second one, almost throwing Lando off the couch.

“Wha—what happened?” Lando is confused, his pupils wide and a faint blush still on the top of his cheeks.

“Sorry, I have to go. My sister needs me.”

“But we were about to,” The curly-haired boy tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, not really wanting to say the word ‘kiss’ out loud.

Oscar types a quick message, letting you know that he’s on his way, not even listening or looking at Lando. “See you Monday!”

Oscar is out of there in record time, leaving the party and a very confused and frustrated Lando behind.

Lando groans, head hanging over the back of the couch, and hides behind his hands.

A laugh startles him, making him look through his fingers. “That was awful, mate.” His best friend’s leaning against the wall behind the couch, a glass of —he assumes— gin and tonic in his hands.

“Were you watching us?” Lando wants to dig a hole and crawl in. “You perv!”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me the first time I announced myself. You were too busy trying to get laid.”

Lando groans again, “I barely know Oscar’s sister but I don’t like her.”

Max laughs, plopping down next to him. Lando takes the still very full glass out of his friend’s hand and downs all the liquid, wincing as he’s not used to the taste.

“You should’ve run after him.”

He perks up, “Should I?”

“No, you idiot.” Max looks at him as if he’s grown a second head. “Are you that desperate to get laid?”

“It’s not that.” Lando pouts, turning his body to the right so he’s facing him. “I really like Oscar. Like I have a huge, fat crush on him since the first time I saw him at hockey practice a year ago.”

“And I’m sure he knows it.” Max says, sarcastically.

“We barely talk,” Lando really wants the earth to swallow him whole. “well, he barely talks. I don’t know if he’s just shy or doesn’t like me.” He sighs, looking at his friend, who is listening expectantly. “And when I finally decide to do something, his sister moves in with him. It’s great. Just great.” He throws his hands in the air, tired, frustrated. Sexually frustrated more than anything.

“What a cockblock, uh?”

“Exactly! You’re the only one that gets me, Maxie.” Lando throws himself at him, and Max has barely any time to grab him by the waist to stop him from falling face first onto his lap. “I wish I didn’t catch feelings so fast. Just—like you! Fucking my way around, no strings attached. How do you do it?”

Max laughs, patting his friend on the back when he starts hiccuping.

“You’re too soft for that.”

“I’m not!” He pulls away, eyebrows furrowed. “I need to do something before I go mad. I really want Oscar to notice me.”

“Oh, believe me, he notices you.” But Lando is deep in his thoughts, bottom lip between his teeth. Max can almost see the cogs working inside his head.

“Does she not have a life? Friends?” Lando asks absentmindedly.

“Well, you said she just moved in.”

“So that’s what she needs.”

“What?” Max can barely keep up.

“A life!” Lando pulls out his wallet, and it takes him three failed attempts to pull out a 100€. He hands the money to Max without another word.

Max looks at him, and then the money in his hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I don’t know,” Lando shrugs. “just make sure she has a life.”

“What?”

“Money,” He takes his friend’s hand and places the money on his palm. “so you can take her out or something. I don’t care.”

“Hold on a second.” Max sits up, hand brushing through his hair. “You want me to take her out?”

“Yes! If you take her out, she has a life. Then, I can shoot my shot with Oscar without having to worry about his sister.” Lando looks like the cat that got the cream, eyes glistening and everything.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you love me. And everyone wins.”

“What do I win?” Max wants to laugh but the seriousness on his friend’s face stops him.

“A pretty girl.” Lando simply answers. “And 100€.”

“How do you know she’s pretty?”

Lando looks at him beneath his eyelashes, his lips in a pout. “Please do this for me.”

Max thinks about it for a second.

He really thinks about the whole plan.

He would be helping a friend — his best friend. He would be hanging out with a pretty girl and, if everything goes well, he would be getting in that same pretty girl’s bed.

And he needs a new camera.

“Just one time? Or you want this to be a regular thing?” If he’s going to do this, he may as well make the most out of it. “Because if you want me to keep her busy, that means I’d have to take her out and that means more money.”

“I can’t think anymore.” Lando throws his arm over his eyes, the music too loud for him to hear his own thoughts. “Let’s see how it goes first. Then, we talk about more money. Now just let me sleep, I’m gonna have the worst headache of my life tomorrow.”

“Well, you got yourself a deal.”

The first two classes weren’t that bad.

By the third one you felt a lot more comfortable. Even more so when you recognised one of your brother’s friends in the same class as you.

Charles gave you some tips about certain professors and what you needed to expect in your first year. He’s in his second year now, so you listened very closely to everything he had to say.

You’re one of the first ones to walk in the lecture hall, so you have enough time to find a seat and answer one of the dozen text messages from your parents asking about your day.

And the other dozen from your brother.

[15:23] Oscar: Want to have lunch together?

[15:28] Oscar: How’s your day going? Any news?

[15:35] Oscar: I just bumped into Charles. He says you’re doing good!

[15:40] Oscar: I have hockey practice today.

[15:42] Oscar: In case you want to come and walk home together.

You sigh, a small smile gracing your lips.

[16:02] You: all good so far. i have a very weird professor lol

[16:04] You: charles is such a nice guy, it made my classes so much easier and fun

[16:07] You: i really want to see you playing hockey so i might go look

[16:08] You: my last class is about to start so i’ll talk to you later. love you!

You’re hitting send when a presence startles you.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, pointing to the seat right next to yours.

You look around the lecture hall, still pretty much empty.

“Uhm, no?” You can count on the fingers of one hand how many people are attending the class. But he still chooses to sit next to you.

The teacher comes in a few minutes later, a few more students after him, but even then the lecture hall feels empty.

“Hey,” The stranger says, leaning in to whisper without drawing the teacher’s attention.

You turn your head around, forcing yourself to move away when you realize how close he really is. “Yes?” You say, typing away on your computer as the professor gives the class the list of books needed for the semester.

“Do you have a pen I can borrow?” He has a sheepish smile. Only then you notice that he doesn’t carry a backpack, or books. He’s just there, in a class where he’s supposed to be taking notes, without anything.

You dig into your bag, pulling out a pen and a sheet of paper.

His smile grows. “Oh, thank you!”

“Are you sure you’re in the right class?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” He turns his attention back to the professor, who’s saying something you should definitely be paying attention to, but you’re more focused on the boy sitting next to you.

“No reason at all.”

You make it through the first hour without distractions. Well, apart from the tapping of the stranger next to you and his constant sighing and twisting on his seat.

When the professor excuses himself to answer an important call, you know you have to say something.

“Can you stop, please? You’re distracting me.”

“Oh,” He leans a little closer, “Am I?”

You groan, asking yourself if staying in that seat is really worth it.

You don’t want to look at him, you really don’t. The first time you saw how big and blue his eyes were, you knew you wouldn’t be able to look at him again without getting lost in them.

So, you simply nod while pretending to look for a folder in your computer.

“I noticed the first time you kept typing the same line over and over again.”

Your blush starts at your neck and goes all the way up to your ears.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re doing it again,” His breath hits you on the cheek, too close for your liking. “You know you’ve been opening and closing the same folder for five minutes now, no?”

You hold your breath, trying to regulate your heartbeat.

He doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on what the professor is trying to teach you. However, you know you won’t be paying much attention.

You can still feel the warmth emanating from him, making you feel hot all over. His closeness is enough to put you on edge.

Just when you think he won’t be bothering you again, he slides a piece of paper over to you.

You ignore it for about five seconds until you can’t anymore.

You unfold it.

‘Your hair is pretty’

It sends a thrill down your spine. The ghost of a smile crossing your face, something inside you making a funny little flip.

You force yourself to look at him, only to find his gaze already on you. The blonde stranger tilts his head and observes you for a while, and when you don’t know what to do, and afraid of giving away how flustered you really are, you simply roll your eyes as an answer, immediately going back to paying attention, or pretending to. But the professor is nowhere to be seen and everyone is picking up their things to get out of there as fast as possible.

Finally.

You pack up your own things, slipping his note inside your notebook without him noticing, and stand up ready to run away.

You only make it out of the lecture hall before he falls into step with you.

“Hey, you forgot this.” He shoves the pen into your face, almost making you trip over your own feet.

“You can have it.” You walk a little faster, but it seems he doesn’t want to leave you alone. “Pretty sure you need it more than me.” It’s just a whisper, a comment for yourself more than for him.

“Uh, feisty!”

You stop, turn around and take a deep breath. Plastering a smile on your face, you say, “You are annoying.” And it seems that you amuse him, because he fights back a smile. A very pretty smile, you notice. “Goodbye.”

“I’m Max, by the way!”

“I don’t care!” You’re not proud, but he totally deserves the middle finger you give him.

He doesn’t need to know but you’re glad you can put a name to that handsome face.

You check your texts as you make your way to the ice rink and, as expected, a message from your brother awaits you.

[17:45] Oscar: Something special you want for dinner today?

It’s cute how much he cares about you. Maybe too much sometimes, but you wouldn’t trade your twin and overprotective brother for anything in the world. Even if it means you have to put up with the hundreds of text messages and death glares directed at anybody who dares to even look at you.

“Texting a boyfriend?”

You look at Max from the corner of your eyes; he’s still walking a few feet behind. “Are you following me?”

He laughs. “Why would I be following you?”

“You’re weird.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

How can someone be so attractive and annoying at the same time?

Unfortunately, he’s headed the same way.

“Are you on the hockey team?” If you slow down to wait for him, well, who can blame you?

He cocks his head and the edge of his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Why? Are you into hockey players?”

“You can’t have a normal conversation, can you?”

Max laughs, opening the front doors and moving to the side to let you in first.

“Yes, I’m on the hockey team.” Max chuckles, “Are you on the hockey team?”

“My brother,” You answer him, and Max raises his eyebrows. “His name’s Oscar. Do you know him?”

“Are you asking me if I know my own teammate?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You’ve never felt so stupid talking to someone before, but that’s exactly how this guy makes you feel. Have you forgotten how to talk or he just loves being an idiot and getting under your skin?

“Max!”

Both of you turn around to find a curly-haired boy waving in your direction.

You recognize the bright, brown eyes of Lando Norris immediately.

“Hey, Y/N!” He says when you approach him, putting his arm around your shoulder. “I see you’ve met Max.”

You nod, “Yes. He’s in one of my classes.” Max winks at you. He has the audacity to wink. “Are you on the hockey team too?”

“Oh nah, that’s not for me. Max is actually my roommate.” Lando explains as Max leans against the side of the bleachers beside you. “I’m here as his moral support.”

Max laughs. A full belly-laugh.

Your head snaps at him so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash.

“Anyway,” Lando’s eyes widen, like silently saying something to his friend, before turning to look back at you. “Are you here to see your brother?”

“Yes. I don’t know anything about hockey, though.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t either. I’m here to see the hot guys.” You laugh at how honest he is. “You got plans tonight?” Lando asks after a few minutes, getting comfortable on the bleachers beside you, seeing some of the players getting out of the changing rooms.

“I don’t know if Oscar has something planned, but I don’t think so.” You fold your arms over your chest, feeling a little cold. “Why? Do you have something in mind?”

“I know this pub that serves the best Guinness in town.” He states, nudging you. “You and your brother should come.”

You shrug. It is a very appealing invitation after all, and after your first day of classes you definitely deserve it. “It sounds like a place I want to know.”

“Great!” Lando claps his hands together, then looks at his friend. “You should join us too, Max.”

Please say no, you think.

Max shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

Great. Just great.

“I’m gonna get ready before the coach starts screaming at me again.” Max interrupts, a lopsided grin on his face. “Pleasure to meet you, Piastri.” He bows, like one of those Lords in a period drama, tilting his head up a little and winking once again, making your heart stop for a second.

He disappears before you have time to think about something witty to say.

You look back at the ice rink, spotting your brother from a distance. He sees you almost immediately, and waves at you with enthusiasm. You wave back, a soft smile spreading across your features.

Well, you have an hour to come to terms with spending the afternoon with the most annoyingly attractive, blonde haired and blue eyed boy you’ve ever met. What’s the worst that could happen?

✶ TAGLIST — @14fa. @hiireadstuff. @lolzblues55. @maifics. @littlegrapejuice. @landoslutmeout. @nikfigueiredo. @nciolisa. @rafexoxo. ✶

GWEN RAMBLES — well, hello! thank you so much if you made it this far. i don’t know when the next chapter will be posted. i’m already working on it, but it may take me a few days. if you want to be added to this series taglist you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box! as you know, comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. i’ll see you in the next update!

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fanfic

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randomness-is-my-order · 12 days

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since i’m on my third mdzs brainrot of the year, let me just say: it’s enlightening how this story, spread over multiple volumes, goes over the simple but undeniably true reality that even while doing almost everything “right” you can still be horribly “wrong” in the eyes of society. how wei wuxian would bend over backwards to follow his morals (which have been narratively shown to be somewhat the standard) but still be condemned at large because he didn’t go about it the way that was perfectly compliant with what his social superiors and other authority figures expected of him. how “good” deeds in the mdzs world (and ours) will only be accepted and praised, coming from someone of lower social standing, if they are packaged in an unobstrusive manner–and sometimes, not even then. and it’s funny how some people miss that, how they wonder what would have happened if wei wuxian had been just a bit more tempered, a bit more subservient, a bit more polite. how the expectation of delivering his kindnesses in the most unhindering manner possible is somehow an acceptable train of thought–how the burden to do better is not unequivocally placed on people like JGS, Jiang Cheng, Nie Mingjue, the Lans, etc.

some people think that wei wuxian using demonic cultivation in the eyes of the cultivation world is his downfall. nevermind the fact that he literally isn’t practicing mo dao–this whole issue is NOT about what he’s doing, but about who he is. mxtx has made that clear at multiple points in the novels but the most glaring example is, ofcourse, how the nie sect is allowed to mess with resentful energy all they like and since they are a powerful enough sect, they face no social or political backlash for it–not in the way that wei wuxian does. even then, during the war, those people had no qualms against weaponising wei wuxian’s powers for their benefit. if it truly was about the dubious morality of using mo dao for them then wei wuxian should have been condemned from the get-go. but it’s not. it’s about the son of a servant wielding enough power to change the tides of a war and then surviving to tell the tale and continue to live with the kind of power that shouldn’t be held by someone of his station. it’s about people quaking in their boots because wei wuxian has shown himself as someone who won’t conform, who won’t become a dancing monkey for their tunes.

yes, wei wuxian is not some perfect angel saint but then, why the fuck should he be??? this expectation from some readers and the members of his world alike, that wei wuxian should have been the one to give it his all and more to avoid conflict is blasphemous. in the end, wei wuxian chose his path, stuck to his ideals, and went down throwing a big fuck you at the larger cultivation world’s back, while the rest failed to break the cycle of power abuse. the fact that it took them more than a year to see him to death is just a testament to how well wei wuxian handled things than some grace given by the cultivation world. the whole “wei wuxian’s first death was inevitable” is, for me, not about wei wuxian slowly spiralling and things getting out of hand. his death was inevitable because corrupt people with power will always choose to exploit and silence, will always choose to exert their will, will always choose to hurt those lower in the chain. and that is exactly what happened with the ambush and everything that led upto it.

#so in conclusion stan wwx for a fast metabolism and a healthy life #no but WDYM wwz had nothing to lose while the rest had everything to lose #the whole point was that wwx lost EVERYTHING to just do the right thing because justice in their world is just the whimsy of the powerful #wei wuxian meta #wei wuxian #wei ying #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the untamed #canon jiang cheng #nie mingjue #jin guangshan #lan wangji #mdzs meta #mxtx mdzs #mdzs

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mikanotes · 10 months

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happy sweet home season 2 release everyone!!! i just watched the final ep and started screaming. here’s something quick! greetings from, lee eunhyuk x gn!reader, warning sweet home season 2 spoilers possibly ooc eunhyuk im trying to decide how different he shld be, mentions of scars. cheers

“Took you long enough.”

Eunhyuk scoffs silently, hands buttoning up a white shirt over his figure. Unharmed. Clean. Possibly unstoppable, now. His gaze is on his own reflection but his focus is on you, sitting nearby with your back towards him.

“Mm.” he hums, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Did you miss me?” he asks, something like a teasing tone to his voice.

You turn to look at him through the mirror and he raises his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and turn back. “No.”

Eunhyuk smirks a little at that. He tugs at his collar to make sure his shirt looks fine, out of habit, then heaves a deep sigh and turns around. He walks over to the couch you’re sitting on and sits at your side, eyes on the book in your hands.

“Is that why you kept things for me?”

Clothes. A pair of glasses. Books he used to read during your time at Green Home.

“Who said they were for you?”

Eunhyuk is dead. Anyone from Green Home would have agreed with this statement. This fact. But you refused to believe it. Parting ways with the rest of the survivors you knew (as well as the only other person who shared your feelings on this matter), avoiding the military and living in isolation, you had decided to try and make living bearable. Settling in an old apartment in a small building near the river. With enough practice from before, you had traps settled around the place and at least one or two weapons.

You used to stay at the shelter at the stadium, but hated all about it. It was much too many people and too much change all at once. No matter how organized it was, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stay. So you left, and made your own home.

Maybe it was luck that you came back to check on Green Home a day after Eunhyuk came back.

(Maybe it was meant to be.)

“How long have you been living here?” he asks quietly. He watches your eyes scan the page on your book, watches the twitch of your lips when you hum in thought, watches every detail that he missed during this time. Time passes weirdly in the state he was in, and a lot changes. A lot doesn’t. Like feelings. “I missed you.”

You turn to look at him and he tilts his head. His expression is serious and his voice is as steady as it always is.

“Thank god, you survived.”

You stare at him for a while, silent, before looking away. “You didn’t even give me time to answer.” you sigh. “It’s been ten months here. I spent two at a shelter before I got sick of it.”

“Was it bad?”

“Terrible.” you say, “I’m sorry I left Eunyu there. She can handle herself well enough, though.”

Eunhyuk sighs at that. That’s a whole other problem. At least she’s alright. “I’ll find her eventually.” he nods to himself, gaze on the floor. “I have a lot of people to find, anyways.”

“You’re so strange.” you comment, suddenly closing your book and shifting your whole attention to him. Eunhyuk does the same in turn, gaze focused on yours.

“As in?”

“You’ve changed.”

Eunhyuk blinks slowly, before narrowing his eyes. You’re not wrong. But not right either.

“You too.”

You reach your hand to his face and hold the side of it gently. He tilts his head slightly into your palm, not breaking eye contact. It was worth waiting, even if just to see you again. Your eyes are colder and your skin gained a few more scars. He’s mildly annoyed he couldn’t keep away anything that hurt you, though he knows it simply wasn’t possible. He could direct his anger towards the other people that were with you.

But humans are just so… weak. How could anyone ever count on them?

“In any case, you don’t have to worry anymore.” he says, sounding almost cold. “Not even a little bit.”

He’s here, now, and he intends to make sure you won’t have to change more than you already have because of this hellish world.

#eunhyeok x reader #lee eunhyeok x reader #eunhyuk x reader #lee eunhyuk x reader #lee eun hyuk x reader #lee eun hyeok x reader #sweet home x reader #x reader

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furiousgoldfish · 2 months

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Victims of abuse are often looked down upon for 'suffering in silence' and 'not saying anything', as if it's the victim's fault for not speaking out. But it comes from absolute ignorance.

There's never silence without a reason. Abusers understand they'll be outed if their victim speaks out, and they do extensive work preventing them from doing so. And society often helps them out, and makes it extra hard for the victims to say anything.

As soon as the victim speaks out, the abuser will retalliate against them. The victims know and understand this, and have lived trough experiences where they've been severely harmed and traumatized for daring to say something, even out loud in front of the abuser. It's not difficult to imagine for victims that they could be killed for speaking out, or lose their place of living, place of work, their circle of friends, their every day life. Because the abusers are capable of doing that, they'll start a smear campaign that can cost victims greatly, before the victim has even said a single word. Often even before the victims speak out, the abusers make sure they will never be believed.

If the victim still persists and keep speaking out, the society will give them the next resistance. They can be shut down by their best friend, who was also taught to defend abusers and give them a second chance because it's "the right thing to do" and "nobody's perfect". They can be victim-blamed by all of the people who think the abuse could never happen to them because they "make good choices" so they need to believe that the victim is incredibly stupid and "made bad choices" that got them abused. They need to believe they would have control over whether they're abused or not, so they can't stand the reality of abuse being outside the victim's control. They don't want to hear about the genuine circumstances of it, because that's too much for them to handle, and they'll hurry up and shame the victim for 'bringing this onto themselves', not caring how cruel they are, or how much they're enabling the abuse to continue.

Then there will be people who are also abusers, who hear the story and find themselves in the role of the abuser, so they attack the victim in order to defend themselves and their own actions. After all, if this abuser is shown as 'wrong', then they could be shown in that light too! And that is unacceptable so the victim has to be "told off" and every act of abuse explained away with "the victim did something to deserve it" or "the victim is lying to be vicious and for attention". If they manage to keep that narrative, they feel better about continuing their own abuse and never getting outed.

If the story of the abuse goes public, the public opinion is often not kind to the victim. Plenty of people think abuse is funny and will ridicule and humiliate the victim. Plenty will keep pretending it "wouldn't happen if the victim made different choices" (implying the victim had a choice in it). Plenty of sadistic people will enjoy hearing about it and will use it for pleasure. Plenty of other victims will see how badly the story is received and it will become another reason for their personal silence – who could stand having their worst trauma opened up for scrutiny, ridicule and humilation from strangers? It could make the victims suicidal.

The life of victims is already incredibly hard. If they haven't gotten a chronic illness or a disorder or ptsd from the trauma, they're still living with the knowledge that someone on this planet hurt them so badly it changed the course of their life, it hurt them to the point they wished to not be alive. They have to live with heartbreak, with self doubt, with struggling to survive because the abuse often breaks your social circles, your ability to focus, to feel confident and capable and worthy of love. Most often what victims want is just some comfort and peace, a place of safety, a way to keep fear at bay. To be distracted from pain.

Exposing what happened to us and then receiving additional abuse, danger, intrusion from sadistic strangers into our lives, blame, shame, humiliation, and public hatred, it feels life-threatening. Not to mention making it likely the abusers will come after us, will attempt to destroy us again, to take every bit of our life away as a punishment. Silence if sometimes the only way of life we have left, the last thing that we use to protect ourselves. Silence is not enabling of abuse. It's survival.

#abuse #psychological abuse #victim silencing #victims speaking out #why it can be devastating for victims to speak out #being cornered into not speaking #i'm not saying its bad to speak out!#we'd all do it if it was safe #we end up having to do it anonymously #because there's no other way

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redhoodinternaldialectical · 11 months

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Every time I learn something new about Batman: War Games I lose my mind a little bit more cause just, just fuckin, look okay so here's the thing:

Stephanie Brown tries to implement a contingency plan of Bruce's just after he fires her from being Robin and because of that gets tortured to (almost) death and no one knows she survived.

THIS STORY RUNS IN THE NEWS:

So, you know, anyone who might be paying even half a fucking ounce of attention to news about ROBINS would definitely absolutely notice this!!!

And then very very soon afterwards Jason comes back and specifically targets Black Mask to ruin the criminal empire he tortured Stephanie to get

As a way to torment Bruce about the fact that he doesn't take care of the nastiest criminals and they continue killing people

And how Jason should have been the last to die

and SOMEHOW

these two things are in no way related and Jason has nothing to do with or say about Stephanie Brown, fellow Robin, fellow martyred soldier, fellow child dead due to Bruce related villains.

HOLY DEAD SIDEKICKS BATMAN, DO YOU COMPREHEND THE MAGNITUDE OF MISSED OPPORTUNITIES HERE????

please walk with me down a timeline in which:

Lost Days Jason at first just tries to go after the Joker and can't because who he's really mad at is Bruce.

Then he sees Who Really Killed Stephanie Brown and the utter horror of another Robin dying on Bruce's watch (not just dying, but tortured to death!) is what convinces him to try to straight up kill Bruce via car bomb

Roman Sionis is no longer merely a tool against Batman, but another figure to demand vengeance be brought upon, another attempt to give Bruce a chance to right his wrongs and do what needs to be done

The confrontation with him and the Joker being all the more tragic due to how obvious Bruce's answer would have to be once Jason knows Bruce isn't going to avenge Stephanie either

Does Jason, once he escapes the rubble after UtRH is over, kill Black Mask anyways? Does he decide to avenge her himself? Or does he think that she too would demand that of Bruce, and find his death by a different hand unsatisfactory?

If he doesn't kill Black Mask, then when Steph is back, I feel confident he approaches her, tries to reach out to the other dead Robin, almost certainly makes the offer now that he can ask her. Does she take him up on it, gaining an ally and slipping into a far darker role? Does she instead refuse, either appealing to forgiveness or far more interestingly refusing both vengeance and forgiveness? How would Jason handle a refusal, which I gut instinct feel is more likely?

If he does kill Black Mask, then when Steph is back Jason drops his corpse at her feet like a loving housecat with a dead lizard and she has to grapple with her feelings about having someone really and truly avenge her!!! Like how DO you react to someone who you have been warned is wildly dangerous and mentally unstable coming up to you and saying, "I'm glad you're back, like me. I'm sorry you're back, like me. I made sure you could rest knowing he was dead, because I know what it feels like."

Like no matter how each character reacted to this happening there would be so much high stakes emotional shit to explore with both of them!! Revenge I feel like is such a pivotal thing for both characters, they mirror each other in so so many ways, they could be really interesting together if DC would just fucking let them!!!

Jason had a criminal father who he missed and wanted to avenge. Stephanie had a criminal father who she wanted vengeance on.

Jason started off as a fairly gentle soul who progressively became more violent and more hopeless as he was exposed to genuine horrors during his time as Robin. Stephanie starts off violent, angry and rash and finds her own courage and hope through her time as a crime fighter despite of the horrors she's been through.

Jason went to Africa and died there after Bruce failed to save him. Stephanie was taken to Africa via a fake death in order to save her from Bruce and the vigilante lifestyle.

I just...

There's just...

There's SO MUCH HERE I am genuinely fucking confused as to how this is not all deliberate?? And it's all just left on the cutting room floor because for no reason apparent to me they all just decided Stephanie and Jason were not gonna interact!

AAGHHHH!

#jason todd #stephanie brown #dc comics #damian's tomfoolery

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cobaltperun · 9 months

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Lost - Born for this

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 4.3k

Story Masterlist / Next part

-They just don't get it, I think they forget, I'm not done till I'm on top-

A fist collided with your forearm as you took a step back, mitigating the effects of the impact. The muscular woman in front of you had blood dripping from her lower lip, and a swelling around her left eye, but she still wasn’t giving up as she pushed on toward you. You lowered your guard, baiting her into growing more confident, only to pull her into a clinch and land two ferocious uppercuts right to her head. She pulled away from you, drops of blood from her nose falling between you in the process.

It was only a matter of time before you’d win. A good hit would end the battle, continuing your streak of victories.

Sometimes it felt wrong, seeing how much you sacrificed for this, but you found peace in a battle, you found the cure to your heart in violence, in the physical pain and fight that would make you feel more adrenaline than anything ever could or would. You felt lost, a lone fighter going up against life itself, left without anyone you could turn to if you lost. No, that wasn’t quite right. She just… wasn’t as present in your life anymore, she couldn’t handle seeing you after your fights, and one thing led to another. So, the only place that didn’t make you feel lost or trapped was, ironically, a cage. Somehow, that felt fitting. The only right thing in your life at the moment were these MMA fights and this was the biggest one of your life so far. The loud cheering of the crowd? Merely a background noise. The taste of blood in your mouth? Just another reason for the adrenaline pumping through your body. The pain you were currently feeling? Both from the exhaustion and the hits you took? That just made your body release endorphins. The opponent in front of you? Soon to be defeated.

A flurry of punches made the already exhausted woman step back enough for you to do a quick 540 degree kick, pushing her against the cage and making her knees nearly buckle. A feint ended the battle as you pretended to aim for a liver shot, she lowered her arms to block and realized too late that you pulled your fist back and spun around. You landed a spinning back kick to her side and she dropped down, unconscious. The beating of your heart slowed down as you took deep breaths. You took a moment to wipe off the drops of sweat and a bit of blood from your forehead, to come back to reality and come back down from the high of the battle as the adrenaline began slowly fading away. The cheers of your name were no longer background noise, you were no longer the underdog, you just won your second local title, proving the first one wasn’t a fluke. You could finally enter the next stage! Take on the world’s greatest female MMA fighters! The euphoria caused by the success was a fleeting thought, a steppingstone. The desire to keep pushing harder, to get stronger and better already settling in along with the anticipation of the next fight.

A reporter came up to you while you were still in the cage, with the belt hanging from your shoulder, and an easy-going confident grin on your face you had to admit you did look good.

“Another KO! Another undeniable victory! How does it feel?” the reporter, a woman that has been following your career almost from the start, seeing the potential in you, greeted you.

You offered her a smile, filled with appreciation for her support. “Amazing, I’d love to say the fight could have gone either way, but I can’t be stopped,” for a moment you turned to the crowd around the cage. “Isn’t that right?!” you raised your arms up, putting on a bit of a show. Trash talking and overconfidence was part of the job, it generated hype, and earned you money. Respect for the opponent was for the behind the cameras.

And the crowd cheered and booed, almost in equal numbers, some wanting to see you keep going, some wanting to see you fall, as long as they came to watch it hardly mattered, especially since living in Woodsboro meant you didn’t have to deal with either group that often.

“And what’s next for the Woodsboro’s upstart fighter, Y/N L/N?” the reporter asked over the yells of the crows.

“The world, of course! Sooner, rather than later I’ll come for the title!” you promised, not exaggerating one bit, that was your goal, the purpose, the reason to keep fighting. You would become the world champion.

“Your target is Anya Golubeva, is what I’m hearing. It’ll be a tough road, but you’ve never been stopped before,” the reporter encouraged you to keep going.

You smirked, knowing full well the current world champion, Anya Golubeva, was a fight that was still far away, and that she might not even have the title by the time you get to challenge her. “Sure, it’s about time someone takes the title from her!”

You kept chatting for another minute or two before saying goodbye and leaving the arena. Your coach, pleased by your victory, was right by your side, waving to the crowd and enjoying the attention much more than you did now that the theatrics were over.

“You’re going right back to Woodsboro?” he asked you as you walked through the nearly empty, dimly lit halls, your footsteps echoing all around you.

“Yeah, I’d rather be there right now,” you said as the two of you stopped by the doors of the locker room. “I’ll see you next week and we can go over this fight and potential opponents for the next one,” you patted him on the arm, really wanting to just take a quick shower and get in your car as soon as possible. The drive back to Woodsboro would take almost two hours, so the sooner you left the building, the sooner you’d go back home.

“Of course, you were great tonight! Keep doing what you do the best and we’ll be at the top of the world!” he was happy, much more excited than you were, and you couldn’t blame him. At least someone was appropriately happy with the success you were having. And it wasn’t that you weren’t happy, but considering you pretty much ruined your chances with Tara by choosing MMA, this wasn’t enough to make it worth it.

You doubted even the world title would be worth that, but those were the thoughts for the darker moments. When you were all alone, in the darkness of your apartment, unable to sleep and replaying the moment you lost her in your head.

~X~

The moment you got in your car you felt a sense of clarity, you no longer felt the high of the battle, just the sense of calm and peace. The drive back to Woodsboro was fun, driving was always fun, well, aside from the times when you’d get stuck in traffic, but that was beside the point. Driving was fun, but driving also meant not answering the phone that kept ringing as if your friends didn’t know you by now. The Babadook theme suddenly caught your attention, and you figured you could stop to fill up the gas tank, so, roughly a mile down the road you stopped and pulled out your phone and returned the most recent call.

You noticed it was a bit cold as you stepped out of your car, and you had to admit, the road to Woodsboro, surrounded by tall trees was a bit spooky this late at night. A few seconds later Chad’s voice came from the other side. “How come you don’t answer any of us? Hmm Champ?”

“Tara has a different ringtone,” you shrugged as you began filling the gas tank. Given how late it was, and that you were already relatively close to Woodsboro your car was the only one at the small gas station.

“Not fair, Y/N,” you could hear the pouting in his voice.

That made you smirk, as if you wanted to be fair when it came to Tara. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you weren’t even sure he heard you as there was a sudden commotion wherever he was. Probably at his and Mindy’s house. While your friends were deciding on who was getting the phone you wondered why you didn’t put on your jacket, because the chill night air and a bit of wind blowing in your face wasn’t exactly fun at the moment. Oh well, this wouldn’t take long, even if the short-sleeved polo shirt would get a weird look from the cashiers.

A few moments later the commotion settled down. “Hey, how did it go?” hearing her voice felt so damn good, especially since you didn't get to hear it that often lately. Tara’s question made you smile. She didn’t watch your matches, but you knew she heard how the match ended from Chad. She wasn’t asking about the match though.

“Let’s see, my lower lip got busted, but it’s really not that bad, other than that there’s nothing out of the ordinary, I’ll have bruises for a couple of days, and I’ll be sore but it’s the regular outcome,” if it was anyone else asking, you’d probably be annoyed, but it was Tara and you missed her. And even if you didn’t miss her, well Tara was Tara, you could never get annoyed because of her.

You could hear a sigh. A sign of disapproval and reluctant acceptance that telling you to stop fighting would only be a waste of her breath. You couldn't stop. You plain and simple couldn't. Not ever for Tara. There was something bigger than simple fighting here, you had an obligation to fulfil, even if deep down you desperately hoped it would be worth it in the end. “Could you pick me up? I’m at Chad and Mindy’s house.”

The question caught you by surprise, she hadn’t asked you to pick her up since two months ago. “Yeah, of course,” you glanced down at the watch. “I’ll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Great! Drive safe okay?” the excitement in her voice made you shiver, and not from the wind, in fact, you barely felt the wind or the cold at all.

“Always, Tara,” you reassured her, fully aware of how much softer your voice got when you said that, as well as how her breath hitched when she heard you. “I’ll be there soon,” you hung up, went inside the gas station to pay, and grabbed a kiwi fruit bar as well as a bottle of water. You paid and were back on your way to Woodsboro.

~X~

“A special ringtone? Seriously?” Chad teasingly accused the moment Tara hung up, even though she was still under the effects of your voice softening like that. Ever since four months ago you rarely spoke that softly to her, and she missed it. She missed the warmth, the gentleness, andit was all because you were respecting her decision.

Tara just shrugged, leaning back into the pillows behind her to appear even smaller, suddenly she found the snacks in front of her to be the most interesting thing in the room. She was just glad she remembered to put her phone on silent when you called back. It was a bit of an unspoken promise between you two, you had the theme from the Babadook as your ringtone when she called and she had a song from your favorite show (movie) as her ringtone when you called her. You didn’t even discuss it really, you just misplaced your phone one night and she called you and heard the theme, prompting questions from her since you did not like the Babadook enough to make it your ringtone. Even she didn’t have that theme as her ringtone! Sometimes she felt like she wasn’t fair to Amber, but you were you! You have been her best friend since she was almost ten, since that day in the rain.

You’ve been her, everything really, her best friend, her protector even when Sam was still in Woodsboro, her first love, but not her first kiss. When Tara thought of being loved, she thought of you, of being held in your arms. But you didn’t love her back. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. You didn’t love her back enough. You chose your career. You chose to be an MMA fighter and Tara couldn’t handle that. The idea of watching you get hurt, or waiting for you to come home with fresh bruises stopped her from telling you how she felt. It was one of the reasons she accepted and, to the best of her abilities, reciprocated Amber’s feeling.

“Forget the ringtone! She’s picking you up,” Mindy had the guts to give her a knowing look as if she actually knew anything. She had the guts to be giddy with excitement over something that no longer mattered.

“Good thing Amber couldn’t make it,” Liv’s taunt soured Tara’s mood instantly. “Shit, sorry,” and she noticed it immediately.

Tara smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s okay,” even if Tara loved you there was nothing but friendship between the two of you and if Amber was going to be unreasonably jealous that was her issue. Not Tara’s. She already compromised enough, she could spend a bit of time with you. She promised herself it would only be the ride to her place and maybe chatting for a bit, not for too long, since you needed your rest, but just for a bit. The thought made the smile reach her eyes. The smile vanished when a message from Amber caught her attention.

~X~

Chad and Mindy’s house wasn’t far from Tara’s. It was definitely within walking distance, but given how late it was, and that it was getting colder, getting a ride wasn’t unreasonable. Not that it mattered, you didn’t need a reason to spend time with Tara. You stepped out of your car, a comfortable car, not exactly built for speed, or off-road driving, it was perfect for you though.

“Champ!” Chad was the first to tackle you into a hug as you approached his and Mindy’s house.

“Hey buddy, take it easy, I got hit there,” you half-joked as you patted him on the back.

“Where?” the teasing grin on his face told you everything.

“Everywhere, you jerk, I was in a fight,” you laughed, stepping away from him. A brief hug from Mindy and a high-five from Liv wrapped up the greetings and congratulations.

“We saw, even Tara saw,” Liv pointed out as the four of you entered the house.

“Nice,” that’s when the meaning of her words finally hit you and you stopped. “Wait, what?” your jaw dropped as you turned back to stare at Mindy.

“Technically she was peeking through her fingers, but she saw the fight,” Mindy explained with that knowing smirk on her face. You glanced through the doors, watching as Tara was getting ready. She had her back turned to you, and you knew you were staring, but you couldn’t take your eyes off her. She actually watched your fight. “Come on you two, let’s take our place as the lovable side characters,” Mindy’s teasing was never going to end, not even now that Tara was with Amber. You just flipped her off, still watching Tara as she placed her inhaler and phone in her bag. You frowned at that. Did she need her inhaler? During your fight or after it? When you turned to look at Mindy and Chad they seemed to lose interest in you and Liv wasn’t much better as she pretended to admire a picture hanging on the wall. Sighing, you went into the living room just as Tara turned around.

Her face lit up and she jumped into your arms, letting you lift her up. “You okay?” you asked as she looked down at you. Her left hand rested on your shoulder as her right hand slipped behind your neck. The warmth of Chad and Mindy’s house was nothing to the warmth of her body in your arms.

“I am, don’t worry about it,” the softness of her voice, the adoration in her eyes, the gentle way she checked the cut on your lower lip, you took it all in, because it’s been too long since you and Tara were this close. For reasons you were almost sure had everything to do with Amber, you and Tara grew distant a month into their relationship. Spare inhaler Tara kept at your place? Amber had it now. Movie nights? Once a month if you got lucky, as opposed to at least twice a week before her relationship with Amber. Tara almost randomly appearing to hang out either at the gym or at your work? That seldom happened over the past three months. So, you figured you could be forgiven for wanting to hold your best friend just a bit tighter and longer than you did before she told you she and Amber got together. You could be forgiven because despite what you felt this was how you were as friends long before you figured out you had feelings for Tara. You could be forgiven because you would never do anything that would affect Tara’s happiness.

“Okay, I’m here if you need to talk,” you assured her softly.

Tara’s smile grew wider. “I know, Y/N,” you could see the reluctance in her eyes as she dropped her left hand from your shoulder and lightly squeezed your biceps, a silent sign that told you to let her down. You did and now the height difference of roughly eight and a half inches emphasized how adorably tiny Tara was compared to you. “By the way, a tiny change of the plans, could you take me to Amber’s house?”

“Sure,” you missed your chance, well, that would imply you had one. Well, you would have had a chance if you didn’t choose to fight. So, you decided there wasn’t a chance to begin with. The drive to Amber’s house was filled with deafening silence broken only by the occasional buzzing of Tara’s phone, filled with unspoken words, and filled with a sense of tension you hated.

As you waited for the traffic light to turn green you realized you haven’t given Tara the fruit bar you bought, so you reached for the fruit bar resting next to the water bottle in your cup holder and silently handed it to her.

“Oh,” you guessed she was surprised, but seeing as the lights turned green you couldn’t look at her. You could only feel the brush of her fingers as she accepted the snack. “Thank you,” she said, causing you to smile.

“Always, T,” your smile widened when you heard a muffled moan of appreciation at the taste of the fruit bar. She always loved kiwi, so you made it a bit of a habit to get her something with kiwi every now and then.

A few minutes later you parked in front of Amber’s house and Tara stepped out to greet Amber, the girl was already waiting by the road. They didn’t kiss though, because Tara pulled away before Amber could do that. For some reason, you had an awful feeling you should say something to Tara. It was a familiar feeling, one you normally got when you realized you were about to get hit but couldn’t do anything but brace for it.

Tara leaned through the window of your passenger seat and reached out for your hand. "Thanks, Y/N," there was that smile again.

"Don't mention it," you gently squeezed her hand as the silence turned from uncomfortable to pleasant and you just looked her in the eyes. Just for a moment, you didn't feel lost, you felt exactly how you felt before she got together with Amber.

A cough made Tara pull back and take a few steps back, choosing to stand next to Amber. “Good night,” Tara waved at you.

“Sweet dreams,” you forced out and drove away, the feeling of being lost came back, right along with that awful feeling that filled you with anxiety.

That night, the only reason you managed to fall asleep was the exhaustion in your body, and as the date changed from 22nd to 23rd you were plagued by nightmares you neither remembered nor could explain.

~X~

The moment Tara followed Amber inside she regretted not going home. Or to your place. She regretted it as she sat down in Amber’s living room, with her arms crossed and Amber clearly fuming. It was a familiar scene, a slasher horror movie playing on the TV to fill the silence, the dinner plate with a few crumbs on it, a half-drunk cup of milk, the usual scene for Amber’s living room when there wasn’t a party of some kind going on. “Amber, Y/N is my best friend!” Tara argued, hoping to prevent the argument before it even started.

Amber laughed, almost maniacally, at that. “Yeah, a friend! You never look at me like that!” she accused, already yelling.

“Yes, a friend, you know there’s nothing between us,” and she didn’t look at you ‘like that’. She knew exactly what look Amber was talking about, the longing look, filled with all her love and desire for you. She didn’t look at you like that since her and Amber got together. She drew a definitive line there; she would never make Amber feel insecure about their relationship. Tara made her choice, you made sure it wasn’t you, that was the end of it. You were her best friend, but Amber was a close second and Amber loved her the way you wouldn’t…

Amber slammed her palm on the table. “But you want to!” she screamed, her eyes wild and filled with jealousy.

Tara didn’t back away, she didn’t flinch, she just tried her best to keep her breathing under control without using her pump. Amber was angry, but Amber would never hurt her. Even if she tried Tara was confident she could get away. “I wanted to, and you’ve always known that! But that’s the point, I wanted to! I don’t want to anymore! I’m with you now!” she yelled back, tired of this argument happening again and again.

Amber took a deep breath, finally calming down, and that was all Tara wanted, she just wanted her girlfriend to remain calm. “I’m sorry, Baby, I just… You know how I get when I see Y/N,” Tara knew, she knew and that was why she accepted to create some distance between the two of you.

It got out of control by now, it wasn’t supposed to be this drastic, but Tara craved the love Amber was giving her, and she had learnt a long time ago that if people loved her, they expected something from her. Her dad wanted a healthy daughter, she wasn’t that, she was sickly and weak and needed to be cared for. So, he left. Sam was the same, Tara couldn’t be the little sister Sam wanted. Sam couldn’t be a normal teenager with Tara around, so Sam distanced herself and then abandoned Tara almost the first chance she got. Her mother was the same, because Tara was the one who tore their family apart. Because Tara clung too hard. Because Tara wasn’t good enough.

Amber was the same, Amber needed a girlfriend that wouldn’t choose you instead of her, Amber needed Tara to choose her instead of you, so Tara did that. That was the cost of Amber’s love. And Tara would pay it. And Amber knew it.

“I know, Amber, I just miss my best friend sometimes,” Tara sighed, a tiny voice in her head telling her you’d never make her choose, that you never once wanted anything more than what Tara had to offer to you. If there was anyone who loved Tara for who she was, without expectations, conditions, costs, or abandonment, it was you.

But you’d never love her the way Tara loved you. Why else would you let her get together with Amber? Why else would you accept the distance? You wouldn’t have done that if you loved Tara back. You fought for a living, so why couldn’t you fight for her?

“Y/N will abandon you Tara, sooner or later. She’s no longer your guard dog. The moment an opportunity for her career comes around, she’ll abandon you. I won’t, I’d never abandon you,” and as Amber sat down on Tara’s lap, Tara found it difficult to argue, especially since you kept winning, and with every win you’d be closer and closer to your goal. You’d leave Woodsboro eventually, searching for a better life, and Tara would be left here, unable to follow.

That same voice in the back of her head, the one that constantly told her to go to you, told her Amber was wrong. Distance made it difficult to argue. Distance made it easier for Amber to convince her this was the truth. In hindsight It almost would have been enough, but then you took hold of her and all of Amber’s efforts were immediately wasted. You nearly took hold of her one day too late, though, but even then, even as she was bleeding out on her kitchen floor, her leg broken, desperately crying out in pain and fear of the one who attacked her so brutally, she still only thought of two people as she barely clung to life. One was Sam. The other? You.

A/N: So, Y/N is an MMA fighter, honestly, I just want the reader to be reasonably capable of kicking Ghostface’s ass, so yeah, the reader is a badass.

Story Masterlist / Next part

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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mareastrorum · 2 months

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I love villains, and I especially enjoy Brennan Lee Mulligan’s take on them. His version of Asmodeus in EXU Calamity and Downfall really highlights the reasons why.

A villain is the embodiment of the wrong conclusion. They aren’t always an antagonist; they aren’t necessarily meant to obstruct the protagonist of a story. Hell, they might even be helpful. Villains don’t even have to be evil, per se, they just have to be on the wrong path in the context of the story.

Asmodeus is a brilliant villain and as evil as it gets. He’s the Father of Lies, and he indulges in it deliciously. The lies are always half truths so that the protagonist fills in the blanks with assumptions and gets it wrong. He matches their energy to give them what they want to hear. He plays along with naivety and hope. He doesn’t take anything from people other than lives; they give the rest willingly because they want to believe him. Asmodeus finally reveals his deception when he has someone cornered because he wants them to know they did it to themselves. Asmodeus wants everyone he hurt to come to the realization that “I knew better and let this happen anyway.” He did it to Vespin Chloras, Zerxus Ilerez, and Sarenrae.

From EXU Calamity episode 4, after Zerxus realizes he’s been had:

Asmodeus is the embodiment of the desire to punish, and he’s the villain because he’s wrong. That mentality is rooted in hatred. He is convinced that everyone deserves eternal torment, and he wants everyone to agree with that conclusion.

The purpose of Asmodeus is that we shouldn’t inflict punishment based on some idea that the person deserved it. Yes, revenge and victory feel good. Yes, there are often valid reasons to be angry or defensive. Yes, we can come up with a reason to justify punishment. But hurting people because they deserve it is exactly what Asmodeus does. There is always a way to rationalize that someone deserves punishment—so the right answer is that this feeling cannot be a sufficient reason to do harm. That isn’t good enough.

It’s so easy to say “they deserve it” when we know the end result is that Aeor will be destroyed and the surviving legacy is ruins full of monsters. It feels good when we think people deserve to suffer and then we get to see it happen. It feels righteous.

Vespin Chloras deserved to be remembered as a traitor because he was arrogant enough to think he could replace Asmodeus—in an age where another mage already replaced the god of death and yet another mage created a machine that killed two primordials. Zerxus Ilerez deserved to be a thrall of Asmodeus because he chose to take up the mace and contributed to the problems that got him in that dilemma—because he so fervently believed that under all that hatred was a person who needed a chance to change his mind. Sarenrae deserved to lose her followers because she decided to trust the Father of Lies—because she loved her brother and offered him mercy.

It’s so easy to conclude that someone deserves pain. Asmodeus is here to remind us specifically that it’s not the right way to handle anything.

Asmodeus is also a rather effective villain because he is supposed to be irredeemable. Archetypal villains are wonderful tools for setting audience expectations. Whether Brennan plays that straight or decides to subvert it, there isn’t as much work needed to persuade us that Asmodeus is that evil or cruel. We already believe that he’s capable of doing the worst things imaginable. Toying with those expectations is a great storytelling exercise.

Asmodeus didn’t shock us in EXU Calamity because we didn’t expect him to be evil. He was shocking because he is such a skillful liar that we wanted to believe him. It would be such a satisfying story that a well-meaning paladin was the first person to show kindness to the Father of Lies and managed to atone him. Brennan’s portrayal made us want that subversion so badly even though we knew better. Asmodeus lured us into the same trap as the characters, and then we saw the outcome: punishment—because Asmodeus will use any reason to justify it and every opportunity to inflict it.

In Downfall, Brennan could have easily rationalized that the protagonists wouldn’t agree to the truce if Asmodeus was on the infiltration team. The audience would have absolutely found that plausible. He didn’t have to be here. The decision to include Asmodeus on the side of the protagonists gives us a heads up that the story will grapple with questions about punishment.

What do I need to see before I am justified in destroying a city with no survivors? Do I have to concern myself with bystanders? Do the fearful deserve to die for choosing to oppose me? Don’t they deserve it for creating such objectionable technology and magic? Don’t I deserve the chance to live without fear of those lesser than myself? Don’t they deserve to die for corrupting those I loved? Don’t they deserve it for being loved more than me?

Why isn’t hatred a good enough reason to hurt someone?

Again, villains are tools to highlight the wrong conclusions. Asmodeus is involved to highlight that the desire for punishment isn’t a sufficient reason to destroy Aeor. The other characters, villains or not, are here to show us what other justifications there might be. Their interactions are going to brush across these themes over and over again.

I fucking love villains, and no one plays a villain quite like Brennan does.

#critical role #brennan lee mulligan #downfall #exu calamity #asmodeus lord of the nine hells #post script: also he’s just fun #just an unreprenant asshole on every level #love it

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alphajocklover · 4 months

Note

There's this... thing I want to try out involving spiritual medium-ing, where you summon a lingering spirit to talk through you... It's dangerous, but I want to try it anyway along with adding rapid change effects to the mix. Prepped my average nerdy body with the spell, and summoned up a big jock who lost his body just a bit too early, And basically let him share. What do you think will happen to me?

Dude… I’m sorry but that's a horrible idea. It’s one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard. I don’t know if you have a possession kink (which I’m not shaming, I’ll admit that possession can be hot), or are just really altruistic guy and want to help some poor jock who passed on too soon experience some semblance of life, but you are not thinking this through. You’re allowing another human soul to enter your body. I don’t think I have to tell you that most human bodies are supposed to have one soul in them. So this… this is going to get weird.

You, knowing it was already dangerous to have someone possess you, plan to cast a spell on yourself that would change your body as you did it, and you didn’t wonder if those spells would interact in a way you didn’t expect them to. I can think of a hundred different ways this could go terribly wrong. You could simply turn into the jock who was possessing you, with him changing your body to fit his needs and then pushing your soul out into the netherworld. You could end up as some sort of werejock, transforming into the jock who possessed you both physically and mentally at some time of day or whenever you encounter some trigger. Any number of things could happen really. But I think I know what would happen. I think I know the spell you’re planning on casting on your body, and it’s more powerful than you think it is. When it senses two souls in one body, something that most human bodies can’t handle, the spell will react… and split you in two.

It wouldn’t be as graphic as you’re probably imagining. Magic, even the accidental magic you’d be using, is rarely gruesome unless you want it to be. It’ll be quick too. A flash of light, some pressure, a little pain, and soon there will be two of you. One body for each soul. It’ll be almost like a resurrection for the jock you’ll be summoning… but of course things won’t be that simple. Even for the small amount of time your soul and his soul are in the same body, they’ll have a large impact on eachother. His soul will most likely be the stronger one, since it was strong enough to survive after death, so he’ll have the most influence. See, when you split it won’t end up with one version of him and his new version of you, or even two versions of you. In the end you’ll end up with two versions of him. You’ll end up bringing back the jock, but becoming his twin.

It won’t be all bad. You’ll still be you, just a slightly altered version with more jockish characteristics and a new muscular body. The jock who you summoned will have changed a bit too, sharing some of your memories and traits. In a way you and him will end up like real twin brothers, each your own person but having a lot in common, like brothers do. If you go through with this I’m sure you’ll end up a hot jock with an equally hot brother who loves you dearly. It might not be what you were looking for but it’ll be a good life. Here’s just hoping I’m right.

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #possession tf #twin transformation #split transformation

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sooniebby · 1 year

Text

ఌ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

꧁ 𝘼𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖! 𝙎𝙪𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝘼𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖! 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ he loves what he can’t have

Word count › 1.6k

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › a/b/o, light mention of creampie

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

“What the fuck is your problem?”

(Name) hated Geto. And he hardly hated most things. It was the day before December 24—a day that Geto will kiss the earth goodbye. But it didn’t matter right now. It’s not like he knew anyway.

“I didn’t say anything. Does my presence anger you that much?” Geto asked, eyeing the man in front of him. His scent was sour—due to Geto being in front of him.

(Name) rolled his eyes. “Knowing you’re still alive pisses me off. Now fuck off.” He said, turning to continue on his way home before he felt something behind him.

He panicked, which in hindsight was such a stupid plan of action, and he fell back onto the concrete. On his back, he stared straight up at Geto who looked at him with a simple smile. He wished he could just kick that smile off his face. But he knew his strength level.

No way in hell could he realistically fight against Geto and survive.

“You act like an omega.”

(Name) blinked before a growl left his throat. Being an omega wasn’t bad but it was certainly being used as an insult by Geto. He slowly stood up, wondering to himself if he should risk his life just to get a slap at Geto.

He decided against it and rolled his eyes. “Better an omega than a brainless alpha.” With that, he side stepped Geto and continued on.

But he didn’t get too far when he bumped into Geto.

“Oh for fuck sakes!” (Name) yelled, wishing he hadn’t taken that late night mission for a random curse. He was just about ready to push Geto but was quickly stopped by him.

Of course. How could he go against Geto with his noodle arms? (Name) stared at Geto, waiting for him to speak. Or possibly kill him. He wasn’t sure what was going on with Geto in the head these days.

He’s changed from high school.

“You’re not as smart as you seem.”

“Oh okay. If I wanted to get insulted I would’ve went to my mother. Thank you,” (Name) laughed bitterly before prying himself out of Geto’s grip. He was shocked, a bit scared really, at how easily he bruised from it.

Geto shook his head. “I like you.”

(Name) blinked. He stared.

And then he walked away.

What type of sick joke was that?!

“Hey!”

(Name), he would never admit this, shrieked when he was grabbed by his shoulders and shoved up against the nearby tree. Only the street lamp in the park illuminated the angry look on Geto’s face. He sighed softly before pulling at (Name)’s sweater, revealing his neck.

“Oi, what the—?!”

“You’re really dense.” Geto muttered. “Since my previous actions never worked—I’m trying something different.”

And then he bit him. (Name) choked, reaching up to grasp his shoulders but he didn’t push away. He was an alpha… but he liked this. It was going to leave a scar but he was into it. But he wasn’t about to get used by Geto for some quick sex.

(Name) moved his hand and scratched at Geto’s neck, causing him to pull away. He didn’t even show any ounce of pain. (Name) really was weak compared to him.

“I’m not some quick fuck. Especially if you’re trying out alphas. Go to Gojo if you want that.”

Something flickered in Geto’s eyes but it was gone in as fast as it came. He only chuckled.

“It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, sure it will.”

“I mean, you’re a virgin. How could you know unless you tried?”

(Name) blinked.

“Okay, get the fuck off me.”

“I can easily change that.”

“I don’t want you near my ass.”

Geto smirked. “So you know I’ll fuck you?”

“If I let you fuck me will you leave me alone?”

A flicker of disappointment was on Geto’s face before he quickly hid it. “Yes. Are you sure you can handle an Alpha’s cock though?”

“I’m sure an alpha can handle another alpha,” (Name) rolled his eyes.

And how wrong he was…

ꕤ

“Do you think any of those monkeys could satisfy you like this?”

(Name) mewled in pain at the newly fresh bite on his neck. He hated how good this felt. The two of them got to (Name)’s apartment and Geto was on him as soon as the door closed. (Name) didn’t want to know why Geto was so experienced: easily tearing off his clothes and using the lube to open his ass.

It was certainly an odd experience. How could an omega actually like having a finger up their ass? (Name)’s cock was aching to release his knot but Geto would always squeeze it whenever he felt he was too close.

“You seem… nng, obsessed with those ‘monkeys’ you hate,” (Name) gasped at the squeeze on his knot. He muttered out an apology as Geto pulled out his fingers, licking them as (Name) watched in embarrassment.

“Disgusting…” (Name) muttered.

Geto simply hummed as he pulled down his pants, letting out his cock. (Name) blinked in fear. Holy shit. He was larger than him in every category. The knot, the length, the thickness.

How the fuck was that supposed to fit in his non-omega ass?!

“Don’t look so scared. You handled my fingers well—my knot should be easy.” Geto grinned.

(Name) was scared and he did not try to hard it as he watched Geto slowly push it inside of him. It was painful. He would not lie to himself that he felt like crying as his scent soured once more. Geto’s own scent was hardly there. It was never really there, even in the past.

He had said he just learned to hide his scent… But right now, like an omega, (Name) wanted to smell something calming that contrasted his own. But he didn’t want to ask that. It felt odd for an alpha to ask about something like that from another alpha.

(Name) gripped the bedsheets underneath him, hoping it would get easier soon. But his knot stopped him. Geto’s knot was too fucking big to fit inside of him. (Name) whined in embarrassment, ignoring the chuckle he got from Geto.

“You need to relax. It can’t go in if you’re tight.”

“Don’t talk about me like that…” (Name) muttered but tried to calm his nerves. It was hard but he tried to calm himself. An unknown smell began to intertwine with his own. It was Geto’s…

(Name) would never tell him, and he would never get to, that his scent was the most calming one he’s ever smelt. It was a basic vanilla swirled with cinnamon. He hated how his heart swelled and he wanted to smell this forever.

He wanted to be drenched in it. Could an alpha really like another alpha’s smell this much?

Before he could ask this question, he came. His orgasm was the most intense thing he had ever felt. Back arching and mouth opened wide in an open scream. And it all only happened because Geto’s cock was now fully inside of him.

(Name) didn’t dare look at Geto. He knew the little shit would be grinning like he won. (Name) could tell that his knot was still there. Despite him cumming, it still swelled, ready for release.

Geto leaned down and easily pushed (Name)’s legs up towards his head. A simple grin on his lips as he bit harshly on the fresh tanned skin beneath him. He wanted to make sure (Name) would wake up with these marks for weeks on end.

If only he was an omega he could mark as his forever.

He pushed it into the back of his mind as he began thrusting, enjoying the way (Name) tried his hardest to hide his moans. Each little thrust touched something deep inside of (Name) that he’s never touched before.

He remembered his alpha friends talking about it before but he never knew he was missing something this pleasurable. The sound of squelching from the copious amount of lube they had to use for a hole not made for penetration was taking over the room.

His bed squeaked as the thrusts got quicker. Geto’s unusual strength beginning to shine through with each particular thrust. The little moans coming out of his mouth was that similar to an omega.

It shouldn’t have turned him on but it did. He truly felt like he was becoming Geto’s.

Embarrassingly enough, the sex didn’t last long. Geto seemed ready to pop his knot much faster than (Name) anticipated. But he was glad, because he was holding in his knot so he wouldn’t embarrass himself cumming first.

“Are you ready for my knot?”

“Eh?” Was all (Name) could say before he felt the similar pulsating that he knows is a knot swelling into release. He whined in distress before being pulled into a surprise kiss. It stopped any sort of complaints on his lips as he, embarrassingly, returned the kiss in full.

He loved it. He wanted to stay like this with Geto. The feeling of his seed coating his inside as if he was an omega. The feeling of his lips on his as they kiss in the moonlight seeping from his closed curtains. The feeling of his hands on his body.

The warmth that they’ll no longer hold.

They pulled away from the kiss and stared at each other. There was no longer any words exchanged. It was silent. But that was all they needed.

But in the morning, he was gone.

ꕤ

It was a new year. (Name) still hated Geto. He also came to hate Gojo but it was for a silly reason.

(Name) cleaned off any dust he got from his recent fight and was ready to get home. The bite marks that Geto had once given him were beginning to fade and he wasn’t sure if he was sad or relieved he wouldn’t see them in the mirror anymore.

He yawned to himself and covered his katana with it’s usual bandage until he felt someone in the building with him.

He turned around quickly, aiming his katana at their chest, ready to cuss out whoever it was until his nose smelt something. Something he hadn’t smelled since a few weeks ago.

“Geto….?”

“Now you and I both know it’s no longer Geto in this body, (Name).”

Oh, he fucking hated Geto Suguru.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Requested by @xweirdo101x

This came out way more sad than I originally planned but I wanted to show off my angst chops!

Thanks for the request! My requests are open if interested!

#bottom male reader

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skipper1331 · 1 year

Text

Cheater? // Ella Toone

a/n: based off this request. Enjoy :)

She stopped kissing you.

She stopped hugging you.

She stopped touching you, in general.

She didn‘t look at you.

She didn‘t talk to you.

All she did was ignoring you.

When did it stop?

When did she fall out of love with you?

It felt wrong, living in the same home as Ella. It felt weird to sleep in the same bed - something so familiar, something that used to be your favorite thing.

At night, she would hold you while at day she acted like she didn‘t know you.

She didn‘t - not anymore.

You couldn‘t remember the last time you spoke to her properly, not arguing or shouting at one another.

You couldn‘t remember when she stopped acting like your girlfriend but she did and it killed you every day at little bit more. Each day, something inside broke more and more, something that used to be bubbly, full of love and passion. Something that was truly, madly and deeply in love with Ella Toone.

There was one thing though, you remember so perfectly. Not because you wanted to but because your mind didn‘t give you a chance to forget it. Every time you closed your eyes you see it, her, them.

Coming home from work, you expected to be alone. Ella should be at training or so you thought. When you opened the door, occupied with the bag in your left and key in your right hand, you didn‘t notice the two pairs of shoes standing in the hall. With headphones in your ears, you didn’t hear the weird noises which came from the kitchen. And as you walked further into your home, you saw it, her, them.

Ella was trapped between arms, pressed against the counter as a man kissed her, her arms around his neck as they got all cozy.

So many emotions filled your body, you felt angry, you felt disappointed but mostly, you felt heart broken "what the fuck?" you stated as you dropped your bag. The midfielder and male creature pulling away and turning to you. Ella looked shocked and caught while the man had a smirk on his face.

"Baby-" she started but you cut her off, you felt nothing but hurt. Making out with her ex? in your kitchen? In your shared home? You felt betrayed in more than one way. The nights you had spent crying, thoughts playing in your mind that she would get back with her ex-boyfriend. Or that she would realize that she wasn‘t in love with you, a girl. You admitted your insecurities, just to get them thrown in your face. It was the biggest backstabber move.

"It‘s okay" you muttered, leaving the room as quickly as possible. Racing to your bedroom, you grabbed a big bag, filling it with clothes and some toiletries before leaving the house as quickly as you ran up the stairs. Ella didn‘t try to follow you - not upstairs nor outside.

She didn‘t know where you would go - neither did you.

The first night you spent on a bench, then in your car and after that at your workplace, the couch in your office more comfortable than the things you had slept on the nights before. Yet nothing was close to your bed which is why you decided to go back after a week - your back couldn‘t survive another night on the awfully small sofa.

As you saw that her car wasn‘t in the driveway, you stepped into your home, ready to sleep in a real bed.

As soon as your body hit the mattress you fell into a slumber, the smell of home - Ella, bringing more comfort than it should.

At midnight, you felt a pair of arms snuggling around you, tugging you close and the sweet smell of Ella’s shampoo hitting your nostrils, "I do love you, I just don’t know how to handle it" she whispered - you didn’t hear it, deep asleep.

Then she pressed the most lingering kiss to your temple, she didn‘t know if it was the last kiss ever to share with one another, if this was her last opportunity to be close to you.

She couldn't ask for forgiveness anymore, it was already too late for that - the moment she let him into your house, it was already too late. She knew that. She would never forgive herself, the look you had on your face will forever haunt her down.

She'd be damned if the last thing her lips felt wasn't you.

Abruptly, you sat up, darkness filling your vision. You felt weight around your torso, a groggy voice whispering, "what‘s the matter, baby?"

Something felt wrong but not the way it felt before. There was no broken heart or anger, just relief with fear. Pulling her arm away from your body, the United player sat up, rubbing her eyes, "are ya alright?" her accent was thicker, a common thing when she woke up - the raspiness and her thick accent one of many weaknesses you had when it came to the young lioness. "Tell me what you need" her arms hugged your shaking figure as her finger tips wiped away the spilt tears.

"You cheated on me" you stated, staring into nothing.

"What?" shock filled her voice. She turned on the lights to look at you properly and what she saw broke her.

Your face was pale, eyes sad and body posture so scared. "Baby, look at me" gently, she cupped one of your cheeks, turning you to face her, "why would you say sat?"

More tears streamed down your face, "I- i came home from work and then there you were with- and you were kissing" as a sob escaped your throat.

"No, babygirl, never. C‘mere" she let you cry in her chest as she held you in a death but secure grip. Compared to the sight in front of her, all the pain she had felt before was nothing.

This was terrible.

Once you calmed down, the midfielder started talking again, "you just had a bad dream."

"Do you see this?" she asked with a firm voice, holding out your hand, pointing to the ring on your finger. You nodded, eyes fixed on the beauty of a ring, "you‘re my wife. You married me. You‘re my teenage sweetheart, I’ve loved you since I was 14. I‘d be stupid if I cheated on you - you‘re the best thing that’s ever happened to me"

She looked at you with so much love, every inch of her body crazily in love with you.

As she said, she would be stupid to cheat on you - she showed you everyday how much in love she was with you. She treated you the way you deserved to be treated, cooked meals for you, even though she can‘t cook and spoiled you every two weeks with flowers, paid, when you were out and much more - that girl loved you.

You brought out the best version of herself.

"I, Ella Ann Toone, vow to love and never cheat on you till the day I die and the days in the afterlife" she stated, the same as she did on your wedding day, both hands cupping your cheeks.

"I love you too"

Ella pressed the most loving kiss to your forehead before she jumped out of bed, holding out her hands, "come on, I’m making breakfast" the bubbly girl grinned, pulling you up.

"Argh!" you squealed as the girl kissed all over your face and picked you up.

She carried you to kitchen, placing you down on the counter, "now sit there and look good"

The midfielder swirled around the kitchen, plates clinking as she cooked some breakfast or whatever you could call it. "Ya know, maybe because you didn’t eat my dinner which was prepared with love you had a bad dream about me" Ella sing-sang, prompting her arms on your legs.

The night before Ella tried to cook you the awesome meal Alessia showed her but it didn‘t go as planned. The kitchen looked like hell, the food burned as the Mancunian forgot about the oven, too caught up in kissing you and it turned out that she used sugar instead of salt.

"Hey!" you laughed, your arms going around your neck, "you got an E for effort"

The lioness joined your laughter with her own as she leaned forward, "I love you" she grinned sincerely before she kissed you. Your lips matched perfectly, made for each other - never kissed some else, which neither of you would ever do.

The bad dream was long forgotten, the only thing on your mind: Ella and the way she made you feel.

Long ago, Ella promised herself that you‘d be her teenage sweetheart and her old romance.

One day, she‘ll sit on a bench with you, both of you with grey hair as you looked in the far, talking and giggling about your young years.

You will be her first, last and only lover.

"The stove!"

————————

#ella toone #ella toone x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #lionesses #lionesses x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #manchester utd women #man united women #manchester united women #man utd women #manchester united x reader

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