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#this is the kind of childhood experience they deserved
just-antithings · 1 day
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This might be a weird beef, and my 'evidence' is also most probably anecdotal, but I swear this happens so often I could conduct a social study, so I thought I'd share!
So I casually keep engaging with fandom on twitter and tumblr, and of course I come across all kinds of people, pros and antis and secret third things too.
I mostly try to stay in the 'normal person who doesn't hurt anyone' space, cultivating my internet experience, as you do, no matter what I do though, there be antis in the replies and quotes with the usual brain dead takes, and they always yell at people like "shut up weirdo!! you're weird!!! you're Weirdy McWeirderton!!!"
But that's not the surprising part. The surprising part is that 90% of the time if I check such a person's profile... they're a furry. Their account is months, years of sharing or making furry art or cosplaying such themes, sfw and nsfw too.
Now, listen - I would be spitting in my own eye if I had anything against them enjoying what they enjoy, so this is not about that. We have different tastes, and that's perfectly fine.
But OBJECTIVELY SPEAKING. My guy. My dude. In the eyes of majority society. Or imagine like, in the eyes of my Eastern European grandma who is 72 and watches soap operas.
"WEIRD" starts with... you. It's you! It's not a 15 year old and a 17 year old kid dating. (Fictional, no less...) Childhood friends becoming lovers is not incestuous, and it's super insulting to say so. I don't pretend to know what sheltered life antis live where you never have crushes on classmates or never meet anyone on the beach or at guitar practice, but these are literally the most common things in real life! What ISN'T common though - in "normie" circles, on the 'adult with a job' pane of existence - is liking anthropomorphic animals after you've turned older than 12.
Again, I have nothing against if you do. I genuinely mean that.
I genuinely believe we ALL deserve space, this is why I'd like everyone to understand that the OBJECTIVE definition of 'weird' is NOT the proshippers and whatever the hell 'illegality' antis keep accusing them of. To me this common use of "weird" as a 'gotcha' is just funny and illogical. THEIR fantasies would literally not be accepted anywhere except on the internet and its blissful options to stay anonymous, and yet they keep harrassing people for entertaining the same.
Has anyone ever noticed any other specific pattern like that?
Oh yeah it’s super common
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knavesflames · 2 days
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@alfiikae I have written it 😳 it is not the best because I got tired halfway through but decided I couldn’t not finish it. This is NOT my best work I don’t love this
This is very OOC for Arlecchino I think, but who cares? Not me
Sequel to the ask I received about childhood Arle and reader as friends!
Contents: crying, mention of self harm (not graphic, but mentioned and briefly talked about without naming it), just sadness
Word count: 3181
Under the cut!!
(Poor reader lmao, projecting all of my school experiences onto her 😓😓)
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That day was stupid, you tell yourself. She hurt you, and you shouldn’t have let her back in. You still remember the humiliation of telling your mother that no, she couldn’t come for dinner because you were wrong, and she wasn’t your friend, and that the kids were right, you were weird and weird people deserve to be by themselves. You can still remember the pitying face your mother gave you as you shrunk off to your room to play with more rocks. The memory of you playing with those damn rocks fills your brain as you stare down at the textbook. Why are you so interested in rocks and stones? You don’t know, and part of you wishes you weren’t. You slam the book shut just as a knock on your door sounds out, and Arlecchino’s voice rings out.
“Are you here? You haven’t been answering my messages. I am confused.”
You try to stay silent because there’s no way in hell you want to answer the door right now. You’ve been avoiding her since that night, just like the way you’ve been avoiding everyone else. A vow made to yourself one day in freshman year of high school, avoid everyone like the plague.
“I can see your feet, can you please answer the door?”
A sigh, and your chair pushes back as you stand, walking reluctantly towards the door before you open it, poking your head out.
“What?”
“Can I come in?”
“I’m kind of busy.”
“You’ve been busy since-“
You cut her words short, your voice slightly distant, no trace of the warm child she once rejected.
“Yeah, well, I’m busy. Maybe another time, yeah?”
Your attempt to shut the door fails when her foot blocks the way, her face stern and her eyes dark with.. what is that? Worry? Guilt? Annoyance? You sigh, walking towards your desk again as you clutch the sleeves of your sweater to stop yourself from either crying in frustration or snapping at her.
“Why have you been ignoring me? We had sex, you can’t just ignore me like nothing happened.”
“You’re one to talk about being ignored, hm?”
“..touché. But the point stands.”
“Okay.”
Your head is in your textbook again as you try to grasp how to tell the age of rocks by the patterns inside. Your hand on your temple, attempting to block out the fact she’s stood right there, staring into you like she’s trying to analyse you.
“Damn it, what the hell is wrong? What is your problem?”
“You tell me.”
“I said and did one thing like ten years ago and you still haven’t let go of it! You have to move on. I’m trying to reconnect with you.”
“I’m a weirdo, remember? Why would I try to reconnect with someone who thinks I’m a weirdo? I’d rather hang out with my textbooks and rocks.”
Your voice is sharper than it usually is. You know from so many years of this that you have to toughen yourself up. You can’t let people treat you like this, you know that, but..
“That’s exactly the problem. All you care about is rocks, you never even tried to talk to people.”
Your head snaps around sharply in her direction, a glare on your once smiling face. Your tongue finds its way between your teeth as you take a breath. You can already feel the familiar stabbing pain in your chest.
“I have tried. You just didn’t care to pay attention. I care only about rocks because they’re the only things that won’t be horrible to me! Like you’re any better with your stupid insects.”
You hear a sharp breath being taken as her fists clench for a second. Your face is unreadable, but she can see you’re hurt. She feels guilty, but she’s so annoyed at the same time. She can’t figure you out the way she wants to, she can’t read you the way she can with other people. It’s like you’ve locked yourself away behind a wall that can’t be demolished.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“What? Are you asking me if I was dropped on the head as a baby?”
The words make Arlecchino stop. That was so specific, too specific to not have been said to you before. And your voice is so sharp, so distant. The guilt is beginning to form in a pit in her stomach, pulling her downwards into a sea of anger. Her eyes flick over you, noticing the thing she’s noticed constantly about you.
“No. I’m asking what happened. You were such a happy child and then one day you just weren’t. You were so social and then you stopped talking to anyone, and nobody said anything about it either.”
“Mhm.”
“And now you’re not you. I don’t like it.”
Your mind recalls everything. The day she ditched you seems like such a small thing, but it wasn’t. Not when you pair it with everything else that happened. It was just the icing on the cake. You still remember the feeling, what you turned to, the nights alone. Your vision blurs, but you blink rapidly, fighting the tears away. Arlecchino waits patiently, standing there as she stares at you, analysing your appearance, analysing everything she can about you like you’re one of her insects she plans to research. You’ve never spoken to anyone about this, and you never dreamed of doing it. Especially not to her. But the words beginning spilling out of your mouth in both anger and sorrow.
“Nobody liked me, so I changed. Being me was the wrong thing to do.”
“Wrong? No. People liked you.”
You scoff, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. You know that’s not true, people have told you that.
“Do not lie. Nobody liked me, and it isn’t like they made that painfully obvious.”
“What do you even mean by that? Is that why you..”
She gestures a hand to you, and you know what she means. It isn’t hard to know what she means. Your eyes narrow, and your tone becomes defensive.
“How do you-“
“I just know. I saw one time. You weren’t the best at hiding it, you know. And you didn’t take your sweater off when we had sex. It adds up.”
“Right.”
“You shouldn’t do that, you know. Why? What drove you to start with that? Because people didn’t like you?”
Your jaw tenses. You don’t even know what to say to that. Your hands clasp in front of you, bringing the sleeves of your sweater against your palms, an old childhood habit really, but you never really paid attention to it. You stare in silence for a while before your voice sounds out, quiet, almost sad.
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“Sorry.”
“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
“You don’t remember that the janitor had to lock the changing rooms after school hours because a girl got locked in there for the weekend?”
Arlecchino’s eyes widen for a second as she tries to recall that. She does, in fact, vaguely remember that someone was locked in the changing rooms for an entire weekend in freshman year, and was only found again on the Monday when they had gym class. She feels the pit in her stomach grow significantly.
“That was you?”
“Mhm.”
“What happened?”
“Do you even care?”
A pause, and then:
“I do.”
You begin explaining for the first time in your life, your voice thick and almost wavering. You stare straight ahead at the small amethyst geode next to your bed, refusing to make eye contact. And you explain everything, everything from first grade to now.
“People didn’t like me because they thought I was weird. They thought I was too interested in rocks and that they couldn’t talk to me because of that.”
“You are too interested in rocks.”
“You can go if you’re going to begin with that.”
“No, you’re right. Keep going.”
Your throat constricts. For some reason, all of your anger is towards her. In a sense, she was the catalyst for everything. Not that it’s inherently her fault, but you can’t get her words out of your head.
“I kept trying to make friends but it wasn’t working. They would always play with other girls, which was.. I don’t know, sad, but I could play with myself. Then they wanted to play with me all of a sudden, so we would play hide and seek. They would ask me to hide and they would find me, but they didn’t even try to find me. It was just a ploy to get me away from them. I didn’t get it. I remember thinking that I was a bit sad they never found me until I hid really close to them. I found out they weren’t actually trying to find me, they just talked about me. They called me weird for liking rocks and wanting to play with them.”
You pause, taking a shaky breath before you continue. Arlecchino’s stomach is completely filled with guilt now, because she can tell where this is going. She has the urge to reach out and grab your hand. To trace her fingers over your skin. She doesn’t.
“Then I met you. You tolerated me, at least. And I had never had a friend before. So I remember running home and talking about you to my mom. She was worried, you know. She knew I didn’t have any friends and she saw it made me sad. She was so excited for me and when we stayed friends for a bit— well, ‘friends’, she asked if you wanted to come for dinner. She said I could ask if you wanted to come. I was so happy and I had this whole idea that we were going to swing on the swings in the park and maybe go to the library you liked so much. It turns out you didn’t like me at all.”
Your fingers pick at your nails, and it’s clear that’s something you do often by the way your skin is red and peeling. It was the opposite of her not liking you. She did like you. So much so, that she realised that she was different from other people.
“Stop that.”
Her hand finally reaches over and grabs yours, stopping you from causing more damage to your skin. Her hand are a contrast from yours, her hands patterned and blackened, almost charred and long nails painted perfectly, with your hands being plain, blunt nails that are bitten down. Tears gather on your lashes now as you keep staring at the geode, one you got for your 15th birthday.
“I had to go home to my mom that day and see her excited face. I remember she asked me what you wanted to eat, what she should make and I.. damn it, it was so hard telling her you— yeah. Her face fell, she was so happy I had a friend, and now I didn’t. She asked if I was sad, I said no. I said I didn’t care. I said I knew I was weird anyway and the girls at school said weirdos can’t make friends so it all made sense. I heard her talking to my dad when she thought I was sleeping that night, she was so sad for me.”
“I didn’t mean for it to be so mean.”
“It doesn’t help now. That was just the start of everything.”
A singular tear finally drops from your eyelid, hitting your skin. Everything is running through your mind and it’s so overwhelming you can’t help but choke down a quiet sob. Arlecchino’s own eyes are tearing up, despite her best efforts to hide it. She feels like the guilt is eating her, that the shame of what she said is sucking her into a hole. Ashamed that she said and did all of those things only to fuck you years later like nothing happened. She doesn’t want to hear anymore. But she tells herself that she needs to.
“The other kids caught wind of what happened. “If the loner girl doesn’t want to be friends with her, why would anyone else?” I kept trying to join in conversations, I kept trying to make friends, but it never worked. I got weird looks and insults. I threw a party for my 15th birthday. I invited everyone. Even you. I think a part of me was desperate for someone to show up. I got everything ready at my house, I bought so much food and I had a cake. People said they were coming. They—“
Your words are cut off by a sob. This is the first time you’ve shown any type of emotion in front of someone in years, and you’re cursing yourself for it. And Arlecchino, she’s silent. She’s listening, and she’s so so sad for you. She knows it’s only getting worse because you haven’t even talked about the changing room incident yet.
“Nobody came. I went to bed at 1am after clearing everything away. The food sat in the fridge and I had to throw it away. I did something stupid that night. I wish I didn’t because it became a habit. But I was so sad. I didn’t understand why nobody came, so I asked people. They lied to me, they said they were coming but they didn’t. And then, one Friday, after gym, they hid my gym bag. I spent a while looking, and when I finally found it and tried to leave, they had locked me in there. They said they would let me out when I stopped being a weirdo, because weirdos deserve nothing, they don’t deserve friends. They left, and I was there all weekend until the janitor found me early on the Monday. I never spoke to anyone again.”
The shame Arlecchino feels right now is palpable. She herself is crying now, silently as she stares at the floor. She yells at herself in her head at everything she could have done, but didn’t. Her eyes flick to your upper body, covered by your sweater. It’s not an unusual sight, she hasn’t seen you without a sweater since your 15th birthday. Listening to your shuddering breaths, your sobs, it pains her. So much so that her voice sounds like a yell.
“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me? To anyone?”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
Seeing how broken you are inside, seeing the loneliness that secretly overwhelms you, she wants to punch herself. She wants to apologise, she just.. doesn’t know how. She’s not one to apologise, she never has been. She’s hot headed, cold blooded, but you soften her in a way she’s never felt.
“I’m really sorry I never reached out to you. I’m sorry I called you weird. Really, I am. And I should have never treated you the way I did.”
Her words only make you sob harder. You sob into your sleeve, the fabric muffling your almost wails, your gasping breaths. She feels like her lungs are constricting, she feels like she can’t breathe as she watches you break down into the comfort of your sweater, which is only a painful reminder that you truly have nobody but yourself. She begins wondering how many times you’ve cried like this. How many times you’ve turned to that awful habit. And the thought of that, sitting alone in your room as you cry, breaks her too. She cries into her hands.
“I am sorry. I feel horrible, I’m so ashamed of the way I just didn’t do anything. I could have done something, I should have done something. I pushed you away because I— I had just discovered I didn’t like.. god damn it. I’m a lesbian, and it was then I figured it out. Your fault.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I tried to push it down, but every time I saw you it was a mean reminder that I wasn’t like everyone else. You’re such a sweet person, you don’t deserve what you got. You should have been a girl who everyone loved. Instead, you got.. you don’t deserve to be alone like you think. I lov-“
She stops. She takes a breath before she continues. It’s not the time, and she can’t use this situation to confess her infatuation with you. It was an explanation, but she can’t use it as an excuse. She feels so awkward, she hates apologising. She can’t recall a single time she’s apologised properly and meant it. Her hands fumble with her tears as she wipes them away, pushing through the awkwardness she feels.
“I like you. I want to be your friend, at least.”
You don’t reply for a bit as you try hard to calm down. Biting your lip the way you did the way she refused to be your friend, you sigh as your breath hitches.
“You won’t leave me alone until I agree, won’t you?”
“No.”
You sigh as you rub your temple, running your fingers through your hair.
“We can try. Don’t expect anything. We’re not best friends. We can try.”
Relief floods through Arlecchino, at least a bit. She was dreading her apology being rejected, causing more awkwardness. A single nod as she glances up around the room.
“Alright.”
You both sit in silence as you try to calm down. Your hands fumble with your sleeves as the tears dry on your face before her voice is heard again.
“You know you have a cobweb?”
“I know. I’m scared of spiders so I just let it live there.”
“Is it big?”
“No, but I still won’t touch it.”
Her eyes search the corners before she finally finds the little fellow, a small smile gracing her face. Her hands reach up, gently pushing the spider onto her hands. She gingerly approaches you, your eyes following her. You know the fear is irrational, but it’s always been a fear. The spider is almost cute, if it wasn’t for.. you don’t know.
“It’s fine. This species won’t hurt you at all. They look a bit scary but they’re actually not. People just don’t know how to hold them.”
You know she’s trying to distract you. It’s like she knows your thoughts, but she knows better than to speak about it.
“Is that why they run?”
“Mm.”
“How do you hold them, then?”
She looks up at you, as if for permission before she opens her hand and lets the spider crawl onto your sleeve. She figures that it not touching your skin is easier for the first time.
“Just don’t be harsh. Don’t hold them by their legs, let them roam.”
“It’s almost cute.”
“I know. I like the purple rock on your nightstand.”
You both watch the spider as it crawls around your arm, you’re slowly relaxing, still on edge, but.. better.
“It’s a geode. Amethyst.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Can I?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty.”
And for the first time in a long time, a real smile ghosts your face as you begin talking.
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good-to-drive · 5 days
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I totally agree with the general consensus that Ringo provided a lot of emotional support and coolheadedness to the other beatles to the point where they'd have probably killed each other without him but I do also wonder sometimes how much of that is being supernaturally patient and easygoing and how much of it is Ringo just having a tumultuous and isolated childhood where he was never taught to recognize and assert his own emotional needs so he became a blank slate on which others could process their emotions
(And tbh I also wonder how an inability to access or assert his feelings may have contributed to his tendency to process pain by numbing himself and the pretty shitty way he treated women)
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craycraybluejay · 26 days
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yes i am an adult male who loves high school dramas this is because i literally never experienced normal coming of age drama like ever and am disconnected from the collective experience of having a relatable peer group forever hope that helps
#i JUST want to experience high school#without like. my whole shitty life thing having gone on#i want to go to high school and have stupid drama and sexuality crises and worries about grades#not... That#i never had that im never going to have that#can i get (one) permission to go a little crazy if i survive into a university#fuck everyone befriend and be-enemy everyone get all up in peoples stupid mind numbingly low stakes drama#i want that sweet golden experience where the worst thing ill ever fear is annoying my classmates#or accidentally spilling something on someone at a dance#i deserve it i deserve to have had a childhood and a young adulthood and a life#i deserve to have dealt with unserious issues to prepare me for bigger ones#rather than serious danger that leaves me permanently severed from normal people and life#and makes me incapable of reacting proportionally or finding it in me to care about less serious problems#like yes it sucks your mom is going to miss college graduation#but i thank my lucky stars that you are not dying or being abused or starved or beaten or exploited#i literally dont know how to take things seriously a lot of the time like im not able to even if i try#because to me the mildest real problem is someone purposefully isolating you and ruining your health#the MILDEST#i try to care ab simple stuff i really do i just CANT#and it sucks so much trying to be a good friend and kind feeling like i cant do enough#the loud thought 'i wish that hapoened to me/i wish i worried about that/i wish the people i love only had that as a problem'#i get so envious. like thank fucking god your parents divorced like normal adults when it should be over#thank fucking god that 'friend' cut you off when they were actively insulting you and betraying your trust#thank the fucking universe that shitty partner dumped you before you fkn hurt yourself over them#yk?#and its a 'mean/cold' way to think about it but i just dont have the capacity to think or feel the little picture#i can imagine my friends subjected to such horror even tho i dont want to
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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hdkgjsjfjs (sorry for the vents lately, i'll delete them later but things have just been piling one after another n it's been overwhelming so i'll just dump in tags bcs tumblr dump woooo 🫶🏼)
#hate how i've been crying for most of the day#this is. this is my fault i know#if i was so much better then maybe i wldn't be in so much pain#if i wasn't so afraid then maybe i cld bring up w those two. in a mature manner how they've been hurting me but#i've lost people before. my fault it's all my fault#do you know how painful it is. to fail to help another#i can't even help myself atp but i could just help another#it hurts so much more when you /were/ the villain in a way#that was years ago n i've grown a lot but i guess the scars stay#i still can't completely believe that i'm deserving of kindness. of being listened to#it doesn't feel real n bcs of past experiences it feels like in the end it'll just. end#lonely world. it feels so lonely rn n i hate that so fucking much#no one at a time. my mind's a mess rn so i'm not being very rational#maybe that's it. maybe i'm lonely#it hurts but i feel selfish when#i look at my friends n i can't escape the thought of#feeling like it'll all be so much better without me#i'm not sure if. those two. my childhood friends i'd call them#i'm not sure if they care for who i actually am#i'm gotten so selfish. last year i was just satisfied w my ffxiv friends#but back then. you. he. even if it was for a short while making a new friend then saved me from the worst of my thoughts#n i'm so sorry too to my parents rn. i wonder if they feel bad that our original plans for the break cldn't go through#i don't blame them for it. i'm not sad about that anymore. i know all they do is bcs they care. n i'm really grateful for that#it just hurts thinking of how i hurt the people around me. n overthinking doesnt fucking help bcs i just feel like a burden#so i'm just crying in the bathroom! as if it wld fucking change anything. i need to be better#but it just hurts so much. it hurts so much. everything hurts. it's so overwhelming. please just let it end#i could pretend i'm fine n go as normal. be 'perfect'#but then i'd hurt myself. i should stop doing that. i'm destroying myself i know i know#the area around my eyes r so dry.... the skin has been peeling off these past few weeks for some reason????#but i don't want to lose myself. fuck everything just hurts n i don't know what to do. i'm sorry. i'm so fucking sorry
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the-hopeless-haze · 2 years
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Dudes I am sorry to spam your dash with MCR stuff but like. Idk. To me this is truly a lesson in just being kind to myself because like did I need to spend the money on this? No. No I didn’t. I have always always always been restrictive with myself like “oh you don’t need that” and like honestly I think it’s part of the reason why I’m miserable a lot of the time lmao. Like I worked for my money and if I want to spend it on something that’s going to make me irrationally happy like. Good for me? I have every right to do this? I’m an adult now and I have the agency to spend my own money on things that make me happy.
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fluffybunnybadass · 10 days
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List five things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers ⭐️
1. playing games with friends or otherwise getting to spend time with them
2. having money to afford thing and not stress out about bills etc
3. the kids who come thru my lines and talk to me about stuff bc they wanna include me in their life! for whatever reason! they think I'm worth talking to! (and esp the ones that say I'm pretty!! WE KNOW KIDS DON'T LIE LIKE THAT!!! i love these kids who say that unprompted, may you find a dollar on the playground every day and never know the hurt and pain of being told you're ugly every day of your young life like i did. you do not deserve such evils)
4. pokemon / new content. and the fact that there's no new game this year!!! LIKE WE AS A FANDOM SHOULDN'T BE EXCITED BY THIS???? BUT I WAS SO SO HAPPY BY THIS. also colosseum/Orre region recognition. and legends was great too, i wish there was so much more content for it!!!
5. hot chocolate? sure. let's go with that. nice cozy drink with whipped cream or marshmallows or both(!)
bonus: MY CAT WHEN SHE'S BEING CUTE WHICH IS ALMOST ALL THE TIME I LOVE HER OOGA BOOGA BOOO I LOVE YOUUUU BELLAAAAAAA
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theemporium · 2 months
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[5k] luke hughes swore he would never tell another soul and take his confession to the grave. that ends as an epic fail as he tells a really pretty girl his most embarrassing secret. luckily for him, she seems pretty eager to help him out.
series masterlist
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It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it was. It really fucking was.
It wasn’t always a big deal. When he was in high school, everybody was just like him. Or at least, most people were. HIs friend group were. And they would always talk about how fun college would be, how everything would change, how everyone grew up and just did it. 
And then he went to college and nothing really changed. It was a bit embarrassing, it made his cheeks burn bright red whenever he spoke about it. But it also wasn’t the most unbelievable thing. Between keeping his GPA up, his training regime and the countless games during the season, it wasn’t shocking to anyone that he didn’t have as much free time as movies liked to make it seem like. 
But then he moved up. He went from being a kid with a dream to actually living that dream and beyond. A joke from his childhood became a reality when he found himself on the ice with his older brother, wearing the same jersey as his older brother. Suddenly, it was all real and intense and he was in it properly. 
But, fuck, it was embarrassing that he was in the National Hockey League and he was a fucking virgin.
In theory, he knew it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t change the way he played or his performance on the ice. It didn’t affect his professional life in any way, shape or form. But it still made him want to curl up in a corner and shrivel his existence away whenever he thought about it too long.
And it wasn’t like it was obvious. He wasn’t announcing it to the world and rambling on about it in interviews. But the amount of jokes people made about women throwing themselves at his feet or having a turnstile of people in his bed felt like he might as well be. 
The awkward laughs and strained smiles would only take him so far before someone caught on. 
And that might have been the worst part—the fact that nobody knew. Not his friends in high school nor the ones he made in college. None of his teammates. Not even his brothers (though, the idea of him even telling them whether or not he was a virgin was an experience he would like to avoid all together). 
Nobody in the fucking world knew Luke Hughes was a virgin except him and, in a weird way, it was kind of fucking lonely.
Or at least, nobody else knew until he met you.
The night he met you had been a few days after the Devils had been kicked out of the playoffs. 
Despite the loss, Nico wanted one last team celebration to sign off a good season. Because yes, it fucking sucked that they were knocked out and it sucked they wouldn’t be the ones to lift the Stanley Cup this year. But they still played well, they deserved to appreciate that, to appreciate each other. 
And, on a more personal level, it was a chance to celebrate with the NHL team he could now call his home.
He was in the big leagues now. He was in the NHL and he was a professional hockey player and, by the power of some fucking superior being he did not know, he was lucky enough to share a team with at least one of his brothers. 
It still felt like a dream.
And with that dream came the joys and perks of being a New Jersey Devil—like not being ID’d in the bar the team commonly visited. 
“Takin’ it all in?” 
He tore his eyes away from the surrounding bar to look at his brother, perched on the edge of the pool table Nathan and Kevin were currently competing on. He had been happy to just watch, observe—for lack of better terms—take it all in, like Jack assumed. 
Instead, he just retorted with, “it’s a bar. Not much to take in that I haven’t seen before.”
“Okay, college boy,” Jack snorted, his cheeks flushed the same shade of red as the vodka cranberries he had been drinking all night. “I meant the big leagues.”
Luke resisted the urge to snort. “Ask me again in a year when it’s actually sunk in.”
Something in Jack’s face softened. “I’m glad you’re here, Moose.”
His throat felt a little tight but he still smiled. “Me too.”
He had assumed that was the end of the conversation, but that was Luke’s first mistake. He hadn’t paid much attention to the way Jack’s eyes roamed around the bar, narrowed like he was looking for something or, in this case, someone.
“What do ya think about her?”
Luke blinked, looking at his brother with a confused glance before he followed his line of vision to some blonde settled against the wall on the other side of the bar. 
“What about her?”
Jack shot him a look. “Do you think she’s pretty?”
Luke hesitated, almost as though it was a trick question. “Yes?”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound convinced,” he commented. “So, blonde isn’t your type. What is then? Brunettes? Redheads? Miscellaneous?”
“No, I—” Luke frowned. “I’m surprised you even know what miscellaneous means.”
Jack punched his arm in response. 
“Why are you asking about my type?” Luke questioned, something that felt a lot like uncertainty bubbling in his stomach.
Jack let out a deep sigh, prolonging it to properly encapture his annoyance. “I’m trying to help you get laid, bud.”
Luke froze. 
There was no way Jack could know. He knew that. He did. Logically, it was impossible for his brother to know he was a virgin when Luke had genuinely never admitted as much beyond the age of seventeen. But here he is, seemingly trying to find him someone to sleep with. There was no way he could know, there was no way Jack knew—
“I mean, you’re in the fucking league now, bud. Milk it a little, have some fun!” Jack continued, lost in his own rambles to even notice the way Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sure college was fun and all, but this is better!” 
Luke tried to let out a laugh. “I think I’m alright for tonight.” 
Jack huffed out in annoyance. “Don’t be a bore! Luke, you’re in the NHL. You just fucking played in the playoffs! Enjoy yourself, man.” 
“I am enjoying myself,” Luke countered. 
“You’ve been drinking the same beer since we got here,” Jack snapped back with a knowing look. “And I know it tastes like shit because I did the exact same thing when I first ordered a drink here. I’m trying to be your guru, help you avoid the mistakes I made.”
“My guru,” Luke repeated with a snort. “More like an unwanted Cupid.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “C’mon—”
“Focus on yourself.”
“It’s my duty as a brother—”
“I am not staying to listen to this,” Luke grumbled, batting away his brother’s hands as he began to make his way to the bar. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack was right—this beer tasted horrible and not even the tiny sips he had been taking were going to save it. 
He settled himself on a free spot at the bar, his elbows placed on the slightly sticky countertop as he peered over to try find a bartender. He saw a few on the other side of the bar finishing off a few drinks and accepted the small wait, a little lost in his own thoughts and whether he wanted to try another drink instead of just settling for something non-alcoholic when a hand settled on his back. 
“There you are, babe!”
Luke frowned, turning around to find you staring right back at him with a grin on your face. Honestly, he was expecting to turn around and let the person realise they had made a mistake. But your smile remained on your face, though the wide eyes staring back at him were a little distressing. 
“Uh, I think you—” But he was cut off by another voice, a much deeper one this time.
“This is your boyfriend?” 
The man was average height and fairly built, but that was all he had going for him. His shirt was definitely a size too small to make him look bigger and the chunky chain looked nothing short of tacky. And Luke may have been in his presence for less than thirty seconds, but the body spray was overwhelming and pungent and made him want to plug his nose. 
Now, Luke may be a little slow but he isn’t dumb.
He may be deeply confused by the sudden promotion to boyfriend from a stranger but it didn’t take long for Luke to realise the wide, distressing eyes were a cry for help and the walking embodiment of Axe body spray in a tight shirt was the reason. 
“Uh, yeah!” Luke cleared his throat a little, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders in the least awkward way he could possibly achieve. “She’s my girl! Uh, girlfriend! She’s my—” His cheeks burned but he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. “She’s my babe!” 
The man glanced between you and Luke for a few moments before rolling his eyes, muttering something under his breath about wasting his time before he disappeared into the throng of people crowded by the bar. 
“What a dick,” you murmured and it almost made Luke jump when he remembered you were still beside him, that his arm was still around your shoulders. You turned around to look at him once you knew the other guy was gone, and your smile seemed softer now. “Thank you for that, really. You’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s no biggie,” Luke replied, cringing a little before he quickly continued. “Thanks for giving me the honour of being your fake boyfriend.”
You snorted. “Yeah, well, you have a friendly face. You looked like you would go along with it.”
His cheeks burned warmer. “Thanks?”
“You’re welcome,” you grinned before turning to settle in the spot next to him, fingers tapping on the bar counter. “Let me buy you a drink to thank you for your services?” 
Luke began shaking his head. “That really isn’t necessary—”
“Please,” you insisted, a softer expression on your face. “It would make me feel better for dragging you into my scheme.”
“I—” He cleared his throat, hoping to some superior being that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “O-Okay.”
Your grin widened. “Brilliant. What do you want?” 
“A Coke.”
“Really?”
“Yes?”
“Okay, no judgement, just surprised,” you said, leaning over the bar to place your drink order along with his before you turned back to the boy. “So, do I at least get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”
HIs lips twitched upwards. “Luke.”
“Luke,” you repeated before telling him your name, something gleaming in your eyes when you did. “So, Luke, what brings you to a bar on a Monday night to drink Coke?” 
“I’m here with some work friends,” he lied easily, not really one to play the professional hockey player card (despite Trevor’s insistence that it was expected to be used for this reason exactly). “Just enjoying the night before we all head off for the summer.”
“Hm, here with your work buddies but staying sober and standing alone at a bar,” you mused. “You’re quite intriguing, Luke.”
“I think that’s a compliment,” he murmured with a frown. 
“It is,” you assured him with a smile.
Luke opened his mouth to say something before the familiar voice of his brother reached him. 
“LUKEY BOY IS GETTING SOME!”
He shut his eyes, muttering a list of curses under his breath before he finally looked at you with a sheepish expression. “I’m so sorry about him. Just ignore him, he’s a little drunk and—”
“Hey, it’s fine,” you assured him with a laugh. “Work buddy?”
“Mhm,” Luke confirmed with a nod. “And my older brother.”
“That sounds like an intense work environment,” you commented.
“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, but there was still a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t blame you for making a run for it now while you have the chance. Jack will only get worse.”
You waved him off, smiling. “Your brother isn’t scaring me off,” you assured him. “Plus, I said I was intrigued and I’m enjoying talking to you. Makes it seem a lot more believable that you’re my boyfriend if that other dude is lingering around.” 
“Yeah, totally,” Luke agreed, something warm bursting in his stomach at the fact you wanted to keep talking to him. 
And despite what Jack and the others assume, nothing more happened between the two of you than just talking. It was bittersweet, in a way. Because Luke really enjoyed talking to you that night, even if he knew he would probably never see you again. 
But it was nice and it replayed in his head a lot more than he cared to admit that summer.
He assumed it was guaranteed that he would never see you again. 
So, it was pretty shocking when he did, in fact, see you again at a house party held by one of the boys of all fucking places in the pre-season.
As the new season approached and the overwhelming realisation that he was about to enter his rookie season of the NHL hit him, Luke didn’t even hesitate to accept the invitation for the ‘small get together’ with the boys. These were his teammates, these were the people he was going to have to trust and navigate on the ice with. It seemed like a nice idea to have a few chilled hangouts whilst training dragged everyone back to New Jersey.
What Jack and everyone else had failed to mention was the fact a ‘small get together’ did not just mean the team like he assumed. It meant a house full of people that Luke certainly didn’t know or recognise, but seemed to know exactly who he was. 
He was only slightly ashamed to admit that he clung onto Jack’s side as long as he could. But his brother was a social butterfly who liked to jump between different crowds and it was too much for Luke. Instead, he had settled near a couch where John and Kevin had been rambling away to each other when Jack suddenly appeared—out of thin air—with a huge grin on his face. 
“Hey, Rusty, is that not your girl from the bar?”
Luke’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “Huh?”
But Jack didn’t say much, just nudging his little brother to look over his shoulder. His lips parted again, prepared to tell Jack that he was drunker than he expected him to be after a few beers, only to find the words stuck in the back of his throat when he turned around and saw you.
He had thought about you more than he cared to admit over the summer. Just random little flashes of the conversations you shared. It was stupid, and a little pathetic, but you just felt…different—in the least cliche way possible.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly his cheeks just heated at the sight of you. 
No, correction: it was really fucking embarrassing. 
“Aw, did Lukey invite his lil’ crush?” Jack teased, reaching out to mockingly pinch his cheeks but Luke batted his hand away just in time.
“Shut up,” he grumbled before clearing his throat, turning to faze his brother again. “I didn’t. I–I don’t even know why she is here.”
Jack shot him a look. “Go on, then.”
Luke frowned. “What?”
“You are actually clueless,” Jack grumbled under his breath before giving him a hearty shove. “Go talk to her!”
His eyes widened. “What?!”
“Go talk to her,” Jack repeated, not understanding the panic in his younger brother. “You guys were hitting it off at the bar, what’s the big deal? Maybe you can hook up with her again.”
“I—” He started before realising this was not the time to delve into the same argument they had had since the night at the bar. “It’s fine, she probably doesn’t even remember me.”
His brother scoffed. “You’re shitting me, right?”
Luke blinked. “No?” 
“Dude, she was all over you!” Jack insisted, giving him another shove that had him stumbling slightly. “Go!”
Luke could feel his cheeks heating up. “Jack—”
“It’s my big brother duty to help you!”
Shove.
“Jack, fuck off. It’s not gonna happen.”
Shove.
“Yes, it will. Stop being a coward.”
Shove.
“Can you stop? I am not—”
Shove.
“Go talk to her!”
Shove.
“No—”
Except, the little shoves and lack of balance with the drinks he had been nursing through the night seemed to catch up on Luke. He stumbled back, his footing gone and his free hand reaching out to grasp Jack or something to stop him from falling. But it was too late. He was stumbling and his drink was sloshing and it went all over—
You. 
It went all over you because now you were right there, right in front of him, having just walked across the room to come and see him.
“Oh shit,” Jack muttered from behind him.
You looked down at your shirt—your very white shirt that now had some atrocious red stain splattered across the front from the cocktail John had made him—and stared in shock. 
Luke felt his whole body curl in on itself, his face burning and his chest feeling oddly tight. “I am so sorry—”
But, to his fucking shock (because you seemed to shock him a lot, if he was honest), you looked up at him and laughed. 
“Unlucky timing, huh?” You joked but Luke didn’t feel like laughing. 
“I can—” But he paused, not even sure what he was going to say. 
“Liking the colour red a little too much there, Cherry!” A voice from somewhere in the crowd—Luke genuinely wasn’t sure where—called out and your face brightened. 
“It’s a good thing I can pull it off!” You retorted, unfazed by the name. 
Cherry. 
Usually, Luke would chalk it up to his memory being fairly shit and the months that had passed since that night in the bar making him confuse your name for something else. Except, the boy had practically relived that night in his head on a constant loop. Every word. Every sentence. Every second of it. 
Pathetic? Yes.
Helpful? Probably not in any way, shape or fucking form except for the fact he was certain your name was not Cherry. He was more than certain. At least, he was certain that wasn’t the name you had told him. 
There were so many logical and simple reasons, he knew that deep down. But right now, Luke was embarrassed and flustered and he had this horrible inkling that you told him a fake name in case you thought he was a creep at the bar like the guy he saved you from and—
Yeah, Luke really didn’t like the idea of that. He didn’t like the idea of being paired in a category with that man. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that he made you uncomfortable enough to give him a fake name, even if he had given you no real reason to do otherwise. 
Someone pushed through the crowd as Luke continued to spiral in his own thoughts, unable to even get a coherent sentence out when Nico glanced between you and him. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he offered you an apology before he turned to Luke.
“You can show her where the bathroom is, right?” 
And, fuck, he really thought this was the closest he could reach to ever feeling something close to hatred towards his captain.
Luke nodded his head, unable to get a word out and nodded towards the stairs. 
You seemed to catch his hint well enough as you turned to head towards the stairs. Until your hand was reaching back, taking his in your grasp and intertwining your fingers together and Luke’s brain short circuited all over again.
“Get it, Moose!”
Jack was pretty high on that almost-hate list too.
Luke felt like his body was on autopilot as he moved towards the stairs, letting you lead him up with your hands still connected until you reached the top. You looked at him expectantly and he led you towards the bathroom—one of the larger ones because he thought he would die if he was trapped in a small, enclosed space with you after he just spilled his drink all over you.
He opened the door, flicking the light on before stepping aside and letting you head inside. Except, the world seemed to have something against him, you dragged him into the bathroom behind you, your hands still connected, and grinned at him.
“Help a girl out?” 
Luke cleared his throat but nodded. 
He tried not to think too hard when you eventually dropped his hand. He tried not to think too hard when you locked the bathroom door. He tried not to think too hard as you glanced at him through the mirror. 
And he was doing well until you went and pulled your shirt over your head. 
His eyes widened, a spluttered noise of surprise leaving his lips as his eyes instantly snapped to the ceiling. But it was useless, he could already feel his blush crawling down his neck and burning hot.
“Relax,” you laughed. “I’m not giving you the full show. Just need to get this stain out.” 
“Mhm,” he hummed but his eyes remained on the ceiling. 
“Luke?”
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“Uh huh.”
You let out a hum, like you didn’t quite believe him but you didn’t seem to push further. Instead, he heard the tap turn on and the water started running and suddenly, the bigger bathroom didn’t feel big enough.
“I’m not a creep!” He blurted out.
You paused. “Is that why you are staring at the ceiling? To prove you aren’t a creep?”
“No, well—” He cut himself off and let out a deep breath. “No, I just…your friend called you Cherry down there. You gave me a different name. I just…didn’t want you to think you had to give me a fake name because I was a creep. Granted, you don’t owe me anything but I just wanted to assure you—”
“Luke?”
He swallowed hard. “Yeah?” 
“I don’t think you’re a creep. And I didn’t lie about my name either,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “People just call me Cherry.” 
And for a boy who ate, lived and breathed a sport that classically gave stupid nicknames to everyone and everything, he had never felt quite this dumb.
“Oh.” 
“Are you going to look at me now?” 
He waited for a moment. And then another. And then, before he chickened out of it, he lowered his gaze until he met yours—and didn’t let his eyes wander any further. 
“You’re an interesting boy,” you mused, tilting your head to the side.
His brows furrowed together. “Thank you?”
You grinned at his response before you turned back to the sink, seamlessly continuing to scrub your shirt under the running tap. 
Luke watched you for a few moments, trying to just stew in the silence and let you do your work. But the seconds kept ticking by and the silence was becoming more stifling and there was only so much he could handle before he wanted to rip his eyes out. 
“I’m sorry about my brother, by the way,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He’s a lil’ enthusiastic but he means no harm.” 
“He seems quite desperate to get you laid,” you noted, your eyes briefly finding him in the mirror again. “A lot of your friends do.”
His cheeks burned again. “They do that with everyone. They just like to be wingmen, you know?” 
Your eyes narrowed slightly on him. “But it makes you uncomfortable.” 
You say it like a fact, not a question. 
Luke choked a little. “Well—”
“Why not just tell them to back off?” You questioned and Luke welcomed the fresh, bitter twinge of embarrassment that washed over him.
“Because they would ask questions,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just easier to let them mess about.” 
You looked intrigued now. “Why?”
Luke shifted under the intensity of your gaze. “Because then they would ask why I didn’t want to hook up with anyone.” 
You raised your brows. “Not a one-night stand kind of man?”
And honestly, he should have just cut the conversation there. He should have deflected the topic onto something else or gave some vague answer. Hell, even telling you to mind your own business was a better answer. But the alcohol made him feel buzzed, your presence was overwhelming and—for the first time in his life—Luke found himself blurting out the words he swore he would take to the grave.
“Because I’m a virgin.” 
You blinked. And he fucking waited for it. 
He waited for you to laugh. He waited for you to laugh and howl and cackle at his pathetic admission. To mock him, to tease him, to make him feel worse than he already felt. He waited and waited and waited. 
And it never came.
“And you can’t tell them that?” You questioned.
“I, uh,” Luke shook his head, his stomach somersaulting inside him in the worst ways possible. “No, it’s a little…taboo in my line of work.” 
You turned to actually look at him instead of gazing at him in the mirror. “Are you a sex worker?”
Luke spluttered, shaking his head. “What? No! No, I…I’m a hockey player.” 
You frowned a little. “Hockey players can’t be virgins?” 
“Well, it’s not like a set rule but like,” he paused, waving his hands around like that explained everything. But you still looked confused and Luke knew he had to keep talking. “Everyone just kinda expects hockey players to be some kind of…sex god. Or something. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s not really common to be a virgin in the league.” 
“Okay,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest—where you still stood in only a bra covering yourself. “So, like, are you a virgin…by choice?”
“Oh my god,” Luke groaned, bringing his hands to cover his face before it got even more red.
“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” You assured him. “I was just curious.”
“Nobody was supposed to know,” Luke grumbled into his hands, but you seemed to understand him well enough.
“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.
But the damage was done and Luke wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and drag him into the depths of the Earth.
He needed to get out of this bathroom. He needed to get out and go downstairs, rush through a flurry of goodbyes to the team before he quickly escaped and headed home where he could hide his embarrassment in a large tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream that certainly wasn’t in his meal plan. 
He just needed to turn around, unlock the door and slip out before you had the chance to—
“What if I helped you?”
Yeah, that was not what he expected.
His hands dropped from his face as he stared at you, his expression almost blank except for the confusion shining in his eyes. “Huh?”
“What if I helped you?” You repeated.
“Helped me with what?” 
“Being a virgin,” you said with a shrug. “It seems like it’s really important to you, or something. And I think you are bigging it up in your head a little more than necessary. Maybe you just need someone to give you a helping hand, you know? Guide you through it, help you learn. No pressure, yeah?”
He blinked. “And…you would do that?”
“Yeah, why not,” you answered honestly with a shrug of your shoulders. “You intrigue me, Luke.”
“I intrigue you,” he repeated slowly, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“It’s not a bad thing to be intriguing.”
“It is when you make it sound like I’m some kind of experiment.”
You flashed him a softer smile and something in his chest eased a little. “You don’t have to say yes, it was just a suggestion. Just…a new friend helping her new friend out.”
New friend. 
Luke swallowed. “And…what would you gain from this?”
You sighed, shrugging your shoulders again. “Honestly? I’ve had my fair share of disappointing experiences in bed by guys who think they are sex gods. Call it a gift to womankind if I help at least one guy be competent and capable in bed.” 
He blinked. “Right. Gift to womankind. That’s me.’
You snorted. “Just think about it, yeah? Obviously, you can go about with whatever you are doing. Just a suggestion to make a casual thing out of it, to help take the stress away. It’s your choice, Luke.” 
It was his choice. 
He knew it was his choice and, despite knowing little about you, some stupid part of him trusted that you were being genuine. You were odd but you were sincere, and he knew your offer was sincere too. If he took you up on it, you would help him out. If he declined, you wouldn’t push the matter any further and just move on in your life. 
No more words were exchanged after that, the offer lingering and the tap still running as the red stain showed no signs of budging under the soap and cold water. He knew he didn’t have to give you an answer there and then. 
But the worst part was that Luke was pretty fucking sure he knew what his answer was the first time the offer left your lips.
And he pretty sure the remaining stain on your shirt was some sort of bad omen from the universe that already liked to tease him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He was fucking done being a twenty year old virgin and you were his solution to the problem.
.
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Text
Realising they accidentally hurt you while making out - 141 + König
Requested by Anon
some angst, fluff, mentions of sexual themes but nothing explicit.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Gentle isn't really in his vocabulary - he's six feet of pure muscle and strength and while he tries to make a conscious effort to reign himself in, he can sometimes get a bit carried away in the moment.
For him to be physically intimate with you on any level, you'd have to be close to him; in this scenario, you'd have worked your way into his heart.
Doesn't like being vulnerable, point-blank.
But once he realises that he'd hurt you, someone he cares so deeply for, he feels guilty. Beyond guilty.
Notices the bruising on your wrists from his solid grip, when he'd been holding them above your head during a passionate kiss, and feels his stomach drop.
Even as you insist to him that you're okay, he'd be distant.
With all of his past experiences - with his Father, his Mother, and his childhood as a whole - he internally and solemnly swore that he would never lay a finger on you or hurt you, in any way.
And now? He feels like he's done just that.
Would probably take him a while to get out of that headspace - you knew that trying to push him wouldn't help but still checked up on him; which in turn made him feel more guilty, you were so kind to him and deep down he felt like he didn't deserve such kindness.
You would be cooking a meal for the both of you, when he would wrap his arms around your waist from behind, wordlessly pressing his head into the crook of your neck.
"'m sorry." He was apologising not just for the bruises, but for everything - he had been hiding himself away, and the lack of intimacy was borderline painful for the both of you.
You turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you to him in a hug. He stiffened, before his arms tightened around you slightly, as if he was making sure that you were still here with him.
You were, and you silently promised that you weren't going anywhere.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny is your typical 'class clown' - he's charismatic in such a way that you can't help but laugh along with him, and his energy just makes him fun to be around.
The only time he really gets serious is when he's working but even then he's always one to crack jokes with the Team - namely, with Ghost (who 9/10 pretends to be annoyed at the Sergeant, rather than admitting he enjoys his company).
He always misses you so much when he's deployed - to be honest even if you were also in the military, if you both got sent on different missions or were even apart for a day, he'd still feel like he hadn't seen you in forever.
So when he does see you again, he's very passionate in showing you just how much he missed you.
It wasn't until you winced from how hard he was gripping onto your hip during a make-out session that he pulled away, panicked eyes searching your form for the source of the pain.
His eyes fell onto the slightly discoloured blotches on your hip, and he instantly frowned, scooping you into a hug.
"Aw I'm so sorry, Darlin', I didnae realise I was hurtin' ye."
The make-out session was completely abandoned, as he rubbed your hip gently, kissing your forehead.
Makes mental notes to keep his strength reigned in in future, and feels absolutely awful when he sees the finger-shaped bruises forming on your skin :(
Definitely would turn up with a bouquet of flowers for you, orders your favourite food and dotes on you for days after it - no matter how much you may protest, he's going to treat you the best he can.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Another guy who's very passionate when he's been away from you for a long period of time.
He misses you more than you'll ever know - he even carries a little photo of you in the pocket of his tactical vest.
Can get a bit excitable when making out, picking you up under your thighs, pushing you against the wall - a little bit too forcefully.
He notices your breath hitching and it takes him a second to realise that it wasn't sexual, but he had in fact accidentally knocked the back of your head against the wall with the momentum.
Immediately places you down on the bed, apologies continuously flowing out of his mouth as he pulls you to his chest, cradling your head.
It didn't hurt that much, more of a dull ache, but in his eyes he might as well have fractured your skull.
Like Soap, he dotes on you for ages after it, promising that in future he'll be more careful with his strength.
Captain John Price
He's been in the military for a long time so he likes to think that he has a good awareness of his strength, and is always mindful around you.
He doesn't treat you like you're fragile, but he's never rough with you - unless you ask, that is.
I reckon that he's incredibly good at reading people, so if he noticed even a slight hint of discomfort or pain on your features during a make-out session, he'd immediately stop and ask if you were alright.
If you voiced your discomfort or pain, he'd feel guilty for hurting you in the first place, hands delicately massaging any sore spots.
He treats you like royalty anyways, but after this? He'd practically on bended knee, would do anything you asked.
Wouldn't ask to continue with your make-out session, waiting for you to be comfortable first; he'd never want to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable with him.
All in all, he's very mature about it, apologising profusely - your happiness and safety is paramount to him.
König
König is always hyper aware of his sheer size and strength - he knows he's big and strong, it's what makes him so good at his job in the first place.
It's also why he's always so cautious around you, he practically treats you like you're made of glass.
Even if you're in the military or part of KorTac, he's still going to be hesitant to spar with you for fear of hurting you in the process.
If he hurt you while making out, he'd honestly want to curl up in a ball and cry.
Doesn't matter if it's a tiny bruise or a scrape, he's going to completely shut down; it'd be like how he was when you initially met him, the closed-off mercenary who doesn't speak to anyone and keeps to himself.
He tries to make it clear that he's not angry at you - quite the opposite, he's livid with himself for not being able to control his own strength.
Like Ghost, it would take him a while to come around - but you would have to make the first move.
He would be sitting on your shared bed, head in his hands as he licks his wounds, inwardly cursing himself; his sniper hood would be back on, as if he was trying to hide himself away from the world.
Coming to stand between his legs, you'd gently place your hand over his, encouraging him to lift his head up to look at you.
"It's okay, I'm alright."
He said nothing, hands coming to rest on your hips, as he pressed his forehead to your stomach. You encircled your arms around his broad shoulders and his tentatively wrapped around your waist.
He'd eventually come around but it would take a lot of convincing to get him out of the mindset that he was going to end up hurting you again.
Poor guy just loves you so much :(
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whatbigotspost · 11 months
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I've realized that a LOT of very reasonable, not fascist people around me are kinda into the "parental rights" gibberish fundies are peddling these days……….on the surface.
By far the most compelling way I've challenged this thinking? Simply saying, "I'm just really concerned for all the kids who have abusive parents like mine..." and I share like 1 careful anecdote about what my childhood was like. I get a lot of "WOW 🤯 yeah, I really hadn't thought about that…" back. I've (not exaggerating) had 7 convos of the past month or so like this and most have thanked me for saying it.
People have all kinds of cognitive biases that affect their perception. To people who think of parents as "inherently good" due to their first hand experiences and/or biases, you quite literally have to point this stuff out to them.
Children's rights are constantly overlooked, dismissed, and ignored. A lot of people want to "have babies" but don't think of it as producing autonomous humans who deserve to be seen that way and not property of their parents. I’ll keep looking for more and more ways to underscore that fact.
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harmoonix · 9 months
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🪻🪷Nurturing Astrology Notes🪷🪻
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🪷: Venus in Fire signs [Aries, Leo, Sagittarius] love with such a passion in them, Venus feels so intense in fire signs and gets dirty asf
🪷: Venus trine/sextile/conjunct Mercury might have a deep love for flirting or chatting. They are so charismatic with their words
🪷: Fire + Air combination in a chart can make the native to be hot impulsive, hot tempered, someone with a very good humour and someone who might love intense
🪷: Asteroid Ceres [1] in Scorpio/Cancer is a very transformative placement, you are very powerful when you use your healing powers and can be deeply connected to the earth + deeply connected spiritually
🪷: Asteroid Ceres (1) aspecting Neptune has an extremely good intuition and is spiritual gifted/you can often be an healer and help people when they need also this placement indicates someone very kind and innocent
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🪷: Sun at 2°, 14°, 7°, 19°, 26° degrees makes the native charming and intimidating, you can have a pretty skin or your skin color might be very pretty and your eyes aswell
🪷: Sagittarius Venus/Venus in the 9th house loves to learn about other traditions/cultures/history, romantically speaking they can fall in love with people from a different culture
🪷: Saturn in the 7th house in your Solar Return Chart can mean getting some time alone from relationships in that year, or just wanting to be more alone from any relationships
🪷: Venus trine/sextile/conjunct Jupiter are naturally charming people, someone who can others easily crush on for, they are also getting luck in love (For the right people of course)
🪷: Sun in the 12th/Sun in Pisces loves anything that seems mystical/mythical for them. The native can share so much love for spirituality
🪷: Sun at 0°,1°,13°,25° degrees makes the native fierce and very confident about themselves they have also an very dominant and strong influence and power
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🪷: Sagittarius Mars/Scorpio Mars/Aries Mars can be pretty unforgivable, they have something that you will always remember about them
🪷: Taurus Mercury/Gemini Mercury have such pretty voicessss, also they can be very soft or shy at voice, and can even possess singing talents
🪷: Ascendant at 3°, 15°, 6°, 18°, 27° degrees can make the native to seem more younger than they actually are and it can be hard to guess their age at the first contact (Because these degrees are Mercurial degrees and Mercury represents youthfulness)
🪷: Pisces Mercury/Sagittarius Mercury have such adorable voicessss, literally their voices are so close to being like a little baby, and someone who seems very innocent or pure/kind
🪷: Aquarius Mercury/Leo Mercury have pretty unique voices that can always make other people to wonder about them, like how is your voice so wonderful?
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🪷: Lilith - Sun aspects: I wanna give them all such a big hug because they deserve it so much, these people could have been judged or misunderstood by others from a very young age and have it hard in the childhood
🪷: Lilith - Neptune aspects: can experience having nightmares and dreaming about getting in danger situations sometimes, also they can often dream about sex a lot aswell
🪷: Lilith - Jupiter aspects: These natives are just hypersexual at another level, and often can be the type of person who will want more rounds in bed, in negative aspects it can represent getting naughty easier than others
🪷: Uranus in the 2nd, 5th, or 7th houses can often experience different types of love relationships, because the 2nd and 7th house ruled by Venus and 5th by the Sun. It can be challenging sometimes (And so many people forget Uranus can be a very sexual planet aswell 😭)
🪷: Moon aspecting Uranus and their mood changes are something else, the native gets pretty moody during the day and having another mood when it's getting night
🪷: Asteroid Juno (3) and Asteroid Ceres (1) aspecting eachother mean that the couple needs to nurture eachother and to be supportive of eachother
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🪷: Neptune/Saturn in the 12th or 6th house and their love love for sleep is so precious 💕💞, I swear if you ask them who's is their soulmate they gonna answer "My bed" 😭💕 love them
🪷: One of my friends who is into astrology aswell told me a story about how Sun in the 12th house natives are constantly working on their karma and these people can possess a good karma or a bad karma based on how they act in this life
🪷: Moon square/opposite/conjunct Sun, the native can have a war between their mind and their soul, something like heart vs brain kind of thing + can also be pretty sensitive which is perfectly fine
🪷: Jupiter in Libra is one of my favorite placements in astrology, something which is pretty close to Moon in Libra or Moon in the 7th house. The native is very relied on relationships and harmony in life, and attraction in love + ALSO the HUSBANDD 🤌🏼🤌🏼🤌🏼🤌🏼 these natives can get is just husband material
🪷: Jupiter in Virgo is also an placement I deeply respect because of their loyalty, their work and their respect for their partners and for their relationships 💕🤌🏼 Your relationship is getting so good over the years
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🪷 Think this is the first post I ever did aesthetically with pink and purple that much, I often use blue and red for aesthetics but GURLLL the pink and purple fits so good aswell 🪷
🪷❤️ Hope you are all staying safe and taking good care of you,🪷 be blessed with light energy, warmness and love by this post ❤️🪷
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k2padfoot · 3 months
Text
Perfect
Eddie Munson x Y/n
summary: when your mind is plagued by bad thoughts Eddie wants nothing more than to comfort and reassure you just how perfect you really are. best friends to lovers.
warnings: TW. body shaming, mentions of anorexia, smoking, self loathing, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. SMUT!! (unprotected sex).
A/N: this fic is based on my own experience of skinny shaming. i don’t think a lot of people realize how hurtful it really is to be shamed in any way about your body. please be understanding and kind, all bodies are beautiful! also this is my first time writing smut so i hope y’all like it!!
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“She’s so skinny it’s gross.”
“Look at her chicken legs.”
“Does she even eat anything?”
“She looks anorexic.”
“Isn’t she eighteen? She literally looks twelve.”
When your ears caught echo of the painful words from the girls behind you, you abandoned your lunch tray, it’s contents untouched on the table. A rush of emotion had you swiftly leaving the cafeteria, seeking solace beyond its walls.
It's not as if the whispers were unfamiliar to you. They’ve been a haunting refrain since childhood, but with the passing of time their intensity swelled, casting a darker shadow over you.
You harbored a self-loathing, a visual disdain to your own reflection, fueled by the relentless comparison to every other girl in school. Your legs seemed too slender, arms too skinny, lacking in curves, and a chest that barley made its presence known.
You found yourself walking into the woods and taking a seat at the aging picnic table nestled in the clearing. As you settled onto its weathered surface you allowed your head to fall into your hands while the tears began to flow.
The cascade of tears persisted, blurring your perception of the world around you, but the subtle sound of someone settling into the seat across from you reached your ears.
Aware that it was none other than your best friend, Eddie Munson, you didn’t have the courage to lift your gaze and meet his eyes.
You felt his comforting touch on your wrist as he delicately withdrew your trembling hands from your face, his voice laced with genuine concern, “What’s wrong sweetheart?”
Your gaze barley rose to meet his, and the tears that welled in your eyes tugged at the strings of Eddie’s heart.
A fractured sigh escaped your lips, “You know just the perfect little cheerleaders spitting insults at me like usual.” You remarked with a scoff, a touch of bitterness in your voice.
A wave of distress swept over Eddie, unsettled by your words. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just a bunch of preppy assholes, I know how shitty it feels to be the focal point of their laughs but you don’t deserve that. How can I help?”
In the quiet recess of your mind you considered a little temporary solution. “Hmm, you got a joint on you by any chance?”
A sly grin splayed on his lips, “Of course I do.” He quickly reached into his backpack pulling one out and sparking the end, “Don’t go anywhere without one.” Your eyes were glued to his lips as he took the joint into his mouth and slowly exhaled the smoke.
You finally broke the unyielding hold of your gaze when Eddie passed you the joint, taking it in between your lips and drawing in the smoke, Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the way it left your lips.
After the joint was passed back and forth until it was no longer burning you began to gather your things.
“You going home?” Eddie asked as he started to get up from the table.
“Yeah, don’t really feel up to going back to class.” You said, following his actions standing up and swinging your bag over your shoulder.
“Okay, I’ll join you.”
A rough sigh left your lips, “No Eddie, you have to go back to class if you want to graduate this year. I’ll be fine, seriously don’t worry about it.”
Eddie was hesitant to leave, in all honesty he just wants to take you home and tell you how beautiful you are, but he knows he can’t. “If you’re sure.” He said.
“I am Eddie, I’ll see you later tonight okay? Now get back to class.” You teased and he nodded before turning around, reluctance lingering in his every step away from you.
Eddie Munson found himself entangled in an enchantment with you, a feeling reciprocated by your own infatuation of him. However, the unspoken truth hung in the air, an uncharted territory where vulnerability loomed, both fearing to confess thinking the other might not feel the same.
Eddie hurried out of Hellfire in anticipation to get to your house. It was a movie night just like every Friday night, and in the wake of todays events, Eddie felt an undeniable urge to make this night special for you. To get your mind off of the harsh realities of the day. So he stopped at the general store grabbing all of your favorite snacks and picked up one of your favorite horror films from family video, A Nightmare on Elm Street.
When Eddie pulled into your driveway he was confused to see no lights on, he knew your parents were out of town but not even your bedroom light was on. Eddie jumped out of the van and hurried to the door, he knew you were home because your car was in the driveway so with his hands full of snacks he knocked a few times.
After the fourth unanswered knock, he hesitated briefly before cautiously turning the doorknob, and to his surprise it was unlocked.
Venturing into the dimly lit living area, he called out your name, the echoes of his voice fading into an unsettling silence. He continued on through the house making his way upstairs to your bedroom. As he reached your bedroom, Eddie’s worry intensified at the absence of your presence.
In that moment a delicate murmur of hushed sniffles reached his ears coming from the direction of your bathroom.
As he got closer he could hear the sobs racking through your body resonating through the closed door like a haunted melody.
Slowly as to not startle you he eased the door open revealing a sight that sent a shiver through him. There you were, a fragile silhouette against the wall, your form cradled by the floor. Knees drawn close, hands entwined in strands of your hair, and your face pressed against the haven of your legs. 
“Y-Y/n?” Eddie's voice, a gentle whisper, faltered as he knelt before you. "Sweetheart, I'm here.” He uttered, his warm hands finding solace on the curve of your knees.
At the sudden awareness of his presence, your head snapped upward, revealing your puffy red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your words struggled to escape, “Shit, I-I forgot you were coming over, I’m sorry.” A wave of guilt and embarrassment draped over you as you let your head fall back to your knees and your fingers grip into your hair.
“Princess, please stop pulling at that beautiful hair of yours.” Eddie’s gentle touch eased your hands from your head. “Can you look at me?” He whispered, delicately lifting your chin, his eyes searching the depths of your own.
“Talk to me sweetheart, tell me what’s bothering you.” His soft voice accompanied the feather-light dance of his thumb along the curve of your cheek.
A pause hung in the air as more tears fell from your eyes. “I-I hate my body. I hate the way I’m so fucking skinny compared to all the beautiful girls at school. I wish that I didn’t look like this, it’s disgusting!”
A heavy ache settled in his chest as he looked at you with sad eyes. “Don’t say that, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen Y/n.” His words softly spilled.
“W-What?”
He smiled gently, fingers softly sweeping to push aside a stray hair from your face, his touch lingering there for a moment. “Yeah, to me your perfect.”
Once more, you lowered your head, “Eddie—
“Stop, just listen to me for a second.” Again, he tenderly lifted your chin coaxing your eyes to meet his. “The first time I saw you, you took my breath away. Everything about you is so captivating, every facet of your being mesmerized me. From your striking eyes, to your infectious smile, the tiny little freckles like constellations on your skin. To the curves of your hips, and the shape of your thighs like a dance of contours, God you are just so beautiful Y/n.”
In that instant, your eyes welled up with tears stirred by his unexpected honesty. Caught in the shock of the moment, you instinctively surged forward bridging the gap as your lips met his in a tender, unexpected embrace.
Initially catching Eddie off guard, the awareness finally dawned on him that your lips had found his, instantly melting into the kiss. His hands ascended, gently cradling your face, while you fervently grasped at his soft locks. You both felt a whirlwind of sensations as neither of you had the intention to stop, yet the necessity for a breath of air became an undeniable plea.
As you reluctantly pulled away, a glistening thread of your mixed saliva separated your entwined lips. In that lingering moment you exchanged an intense gaze full of unspoken emotions.
“W-Wow, I’ve been waiting forever to do that.” He admitted, a warm smile splayed across his lips that was woven with threads of love.
You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, and the undeniable love swelling within your chest. “Me too.”
“Good, I’ve always liked you I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship incase you didn’t feel the same way about me.” He told you.
You let out a light hearted giggle, “Well that’s ridiculous isn’t it, because I’ve had feelings for you for years now.”
A curious frown etched across his brow, “So you’re saying you could’ve been mine all along?”
“Yes, because I’ve always been yours Eddie. I think we’ve wasted some serious time tiptoeing around our feelings for each other.” You let out a playful laugh.
“Well we don’t have to waste time anymore, do we?” Eddie said, his lips turning into a cunning grin.
You had to squeeze your thighs together when your eyes caught the bulge forming in his jeans. “Well, I-I guess you’re right.”
He roughly planted his lips on yours in a needy manner, swiftly pulling you to your feet and tugging you flush against his chest. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you towards your bedroom.
He softly tossed you onto the bed before reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner. “So beautiful.” Eddie muttered between kisses before his lips trailed to your neck and then to your ear. When he placed a gentle bite to your ear a hushed moan escaped your lips.
After placing a few more marks on your neck he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your t-shirt.
“W-wait!” you hastily rose your voice.
Eddie’s eyes went wide with fear, “I-I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Is this too much?”
“No! No, it’s just— I don’t want you to be disappointed.” A sad frown cast upon your face as you looked down to your hands.
“Disappointed? Baby I could never be disappointed by you. Please, let me show you how truly beautiful I think you are.” Eddie pleaded with you, his hands gliding softly up your arms until they reached your cheeks, gently cradling your face to meet his gaze.
You hesitated for a moment but you trust Eddie, and his earlier words echoed in the chambers of your mind reassuring your decision to trust him. “O-Okay, you can take it off.”
Gently Eddie pulled off your shirt and you instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest as to conceal yourself.
“Hey, don’t do that sweetheart, I want to see all of your beauty.” His gentle words resonated as he reached for your arms, slowly encouraging them away from the protective fortress of your chest.
“See, you’re gorgeous baby. Is it okay if I take this off?” He gestured to your lacy pink bra and you tentatively nodded.
The clasp of your bra broke free and Eddie took this chance to take the rest of it off, “Fuck.” He let out a hushed breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So fucking perfect.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your breast. Without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a loud moan from you.
“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Eddie groaned against your tits.
Through muffled moans you pushed Eddie off of your chest, “Eds, c-can you take your shirt off? I wanna see you too.” You practically begged.
Eddie grinned at your anticipation before throwing his shirt over his head and onto the floor. Your fingers ran across his exposed skin stopping to trace the tattoos adorning his chest. “You’re so pretty Eds.”
Immediately he closed the gap between you engulfing your lips into his with a hungry intent. Swiftly his hand slid into your shorts and found your clothed heat, he didn’t waste a minute before rubbing soft circles on your clit causing you to moan even more. “Eddie, please.” you plead against his lips.
“Shh princess, I wanna show you how pretty you are.” Before you could grasp any thoughts they were quickly swept away when he yanked down your shorts along with your panties earning a sultry gasp from your lips.
“Shit. You’re fucking unreal.” Eddie kneeled in front of you staring at you like a piece of art. He bent down planting tender kisses across the landscape of your stomach, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of your hips. Delicate kisses lingered in the warmth between each thigh, “So, so beautiful.” He whispered with an unwavering devotion
You could feel your heat dripping in anticipation. In any other situation you would’ve halted any advance to get your shirt off, let alone your pants, but this was Eddie. Eddie, who was currently worshiping you as if you were a divine being.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good princess.” He uttered just before engulfing his face into your pussy. “Ahh, fuck Eddie!” you cried out between breathless moans, his tongue lapping at your clit like a starved animal.
“That feel good baby?” Eddie struggled to say with his mouth on your cunt.
“Fuck yes baby, keep going!” you shouted out in bliss.
A wave of confidence swept through him at the passionate sounds he was eliciting from you, compelling him to slip a finger into your entrance while he worked at your clit with his tongue.
Intense waves of pleasure began to consume your body as his fingers plunged in and out of your hole, finding yourself having no control you gripped onto Eddie’s hair, “I-I’m gonna, fuck I’m—
“Let go sweetheart, I’ve got you.” His words were enough to have your orgasm rushing through you as loud moans and Eddie’s name repeated like a mantra from your lips.
He quickly lapped up your juices, gazing at you with blown eyes before gently caressing his hands up and down the length of your legs. “Jesus, I love these gorgeous legs.” He uttered softly before trailing his hands up to your hips, delicately tracing them with the grace of his fingertips. “And these sexy hips.”
Before you knew it his hands were gliding up your stomach, ascending to your chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to your face. “Beautiful girl.” He whispered, allowing his thumb to tenderly stroke your cheek.
His sweet words stirred a spring of tears in your eyes, an irresistible surge of emotion that had you crashing your lips into his. Your lips worked in sync, tongues dancing in a fervent rhythm, creating a mess of wet kisses and the occasional collision of teeth.
“Eddie?” You pulled away from the kiss, “I want to feel you.”
Eddie could feel his cock angry against his jeans and he wanted nothing more than to give it to you and only you. He quickly jumped up, pulling his pants down along with his boxers before he reclaimed his position, settling once again atop you. In a breathy whisper, he spoke softly, his lips grazing yours, “You don’t have to tell me twice sweetheart.”
He took his cock in his hands and swiped it through your glistening folds a few times before slapping it against your clit. “Oohh, Eddie please.” You begged.
A content smile traced its way across his lips as he hovered above your entrance, leaning down to kiss you before sinking into your pussy. An audible gasp could be heard from your lips as his cock filled you up, “Fuck you’re so tight.” Eddie practically moaned into your mouth.
He was taking it slow, indulging in the warmth of your walls, but you reached a point where you couldn’t take it any longer. “Eddie fuck me, fuck me faster!” You practically yelled after parting your lips from his, and your legs wrapped around his back, a deliberate gesture to have him deeper inside of you.
Eddie reached his limit, unable to resit your desperate pleas for him, unable to resit the way your walls sucked him in. “Yeah? You want more?” He said, words laced with desire. You watched as he began to relentlessly thrust into you, the way his cock slid in out of your wet hole so easily had your head spinning, and his hands trailing all over your body earned more sinful moans from your mouth.
“Mmm, that’s it. You’re so fucking gorgeous Y/n.” He uttered before seizing your hips with a firm grip to draw you closer as he settled onto his knees, a new angle that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
With each rough thrust he skillfully targeted that sensitive spot you craved the most, you were seconds away from unraveling, that familiar euphoric wave rendering your brain with bliss and leaving you breathless. Your walls began clenching around him and he knew you were coming undone, “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock.”
As your orgasm washed over you, you were a moaning mess unable to stop yourself from the cries and disarray of words leaving your lips. “Ahhh! Fuck, oh fuck Eddie I love you!”
Eddie’s thrust we’re starting to get sloppy as his own orgasm was approaching, “Say that again.” He muttered, grabbing your chin with a gentle but firm touch ensuring you were looking at him.
“I love you Eddie.” You repeated for him, and Eddie’s hips rutted into yours roughly.
“Ohhh fuck Y/n, I love you so much!” He practically cried out, his lips latching onto yours as his cock twitched inside of you, his warm release spilling into your pussy.
Through breathless pants and sloppy kisses, Eddie laid you back down on the bed and slowly eased out of you. “Let me go get something to clean you up.” He told you before darting to your the bathroom.
When he came back, a fresh towel in hand, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked so fucked out against the pillows.
“I’m just gonna clean you up quick.” He said and in response you mindlessly nodded as he gently wiped away your mixtures of cum.
After tossing the towel into the hamper, he leaned down to grab his discarded clothes when you protested. “No don’t, lay with me?”
The warm smile upon his lips illuminated the room as he gracefully joined you in bed. You gently raised your head, resting it upon his chest, as he nestled below you. His arms instinctively wrapping around you, legs entwined, a profound sense of comfort and familiarity enveloped you both, as if this was the missing piece, the way you were always meant to be.
Eddie’s fingers gently threaded through you hair, almost sending you into a soothing slumber when his voice gently interrupted your sleepy state.
“Can I ask you something?”
You blinked your tired eyes glancing upward at him,“Hmm? Yeah sure.”
Eddie’s voice carried a delicate hesitation, “Did you really mean that? You know when you said—
“When I said I love you? Yeah, I meant it.” You interrupted before he could finish.
Emotion quietly unfolded in the depths of his gaze, a softness reflecting in his eyes at your words. “Good, because I did too.”
A broad smile crept across your cheeks as you leaned in sealing the connection with a kiss, a kiss filled with not only passion but the language of love.
As Eddie gently withdrew, his gaze lingered in a tender lock with your eyes, “One more question, can I be your boyfriend?”
A fluttering storm of butterflies danced within the confines of your stomach as a delightful giggle escaped you, “Yes. Yes, yes, 1000x yes!” The sheer excitement had you throwing yourself into his arms as he embraced you with an even firmer grip.
You knew with Eddie by your side, the shadows of doubt would never cast themselves upon you again.
320 notes · View notes
jackiepackiee · 17 days
Note
Hear me out. What if one day Chuuya finds out that the reader was also experimented on.
TW:scars, leaked information, trauma
Chuuyax reader
𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝐸𝓍𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹! 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝓁𝒶𝒷 𝒶𝒷𝓊𝓈𝑒
𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒
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Chuuya is DEVASTATED
How come his sweet and gentle lover has been hurt
He would take every ounce of pain from you into himself if given the chance
And his initial reaction, however he found out, will be hard to stomach
He’s in shock
“No… no no that’s not true. You had that good childhood, and you’ve been treated good by everyone. Just like you deserve, right? Right?”
Wide eyes traveled the room mindlessly. His brain was too occupied by thoughts to see anything beyond patches of color and light.
It was obvious what was going on in his head.
First, his experience. What he knows of the pain that still cause shakes and shivers in his body. The absolute mental devastation caused by the storm in his heart and mind from knowing his past.
Secondly, he sees you in the same position. Screaming, blood over your plush skin. Eyes dazed, far away from the world around you. Whatever world you may have been in that allowed you to be treated so poorly. Because if you had gotten hurt, it must’ve been a world Chuuya wasn’t part of.
“Right?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Sorry? No, fuck. Don’t be sorry, don’t you dare say that.”
In a split second he crossed the distance and pulled you into his chest.
“I’ll kill them all.”
Of course he would lie down his life for you, but this information increases that tenfold
You’re not fragile, that much is obvious, but after learning how close you were to death he strives for your life
Whatever it takes
“Chuuya, I do not need a bodyguard. It’s just down the block! And this boy needs a walk anyways!”
The dog barked in agreement, sorta. But Chuuya would not budge. No puppy eyes work on him when it comes to your safety.
“No. You can talk him on the walk, and go to the market. But one of my subordinates is going with you. I have some emails to write.”
“But!”
“No buts, love. It’s for your own good.”
He pet the doggies head while speaking sternly to you. Little did you know, it wasn’t just one subordinate. He had a whole team on your saftey detail at all times outside of work and home.
And if those scientists are still alive?
Not anymore… it will be a MASSACRE that the news will cover for months
“Hey baby, did you see the news this morning?”
You asked, on a whim as you scribbled a shitty signature on some paperwork.
“No, why?”
“Some old facilities blew up. It was crazy. Reports said none of the victims died in the explosion. They all died by these terrible and violent ways. Like torture and stuff… gives me the chills.”
That was his cause, you. The cute way you told him about every little thing you heard. The funny actions you do to make show of your words.
All his to watch, and not theirs to ruin.
“No baby, I didn’t hear about that. How interesting.”
I hate to bring it up, but it makes him feel worse about himself
How can you, someone who went through the same as him, still be so kind?
Why isn’t he like you?
He doesn’t see himself as sweet or gentle, he’s a monster and a threat to everyone he loves
And he thinks he lacks the humanity that you “still have” that allowed you to grow so kind
You stalked into the bedroom, tense at the fact that the door was closed. He usually would leave it open?
“Chuu? I saw your shoes at the door, I know you’re home-”
There he was, his ginger hair on full display. Hat in his hands to his chest. Said chest on his knees, curled into a ball of black clothing.
His torso expanded and contracted with each exchange of air.
“…was it work? Meetings with Mori su-”
Words failed. Minuscule things such as meetings at work would cause this. Would cause Chuuya Nakahara to cry.
“You weren’t supposed to be home.”
“…what?”
“You weren’t supposed to be home. I was supposed to be alone, and… and I- I dunno.”
Whines left his mouth when you kissed his cheek.
As if Judas to Jesus, he burned at your affection. Unworthy of something so…human.
“What did I do to deserve you?”
“Living, and loving. That’s what you’ve done.”
This isnt meant to be spicy, but sex is sex 🤷🏻‍♀️
And obviously if you’re going to be doing that, he’ll see your scars
For a couple who both has their fair share of scars, this likely isn’t the way the experiments were revealed
It takes a hell of a lot of trust to show yourself so vulnerable to anyone
But he loves each indent
He sees not the pain, but the growth then on
When you cuddle, he’ll get dazed and start rubbing circles on section of skin
Doesn’t mind them at all, even if they are dark and large
He has the same, and is no hypocrite
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Not proofread lol
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fwckriley · 1 year
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I've read lots of fanfics and headcanons about Ghost with partners who are usually kind, pure, like a angel, all flowers and butterflies and stuff etc. I get it, but no offense, and looking at it from another perspective, when you think about people who have experienced childhood trauma, they tend to repeat certain patterns. I'm not saying that every person with a traumatic past will have a toxic relationship.
But, you see: I personally believe that Ghost would never give a chance to someone he deems "perfect," innocent, pure, because that's completely opposite to how he sees himself. How could he be in a relationship with someone so different from him? How could he be understood by someone who doesn't have a certain darkness within? I'm not saying it wouldn't work, but I think a part of him would never fully reveal itself out of fear of being judged. On the other hand, I believe he would also seek out people who, in some way, are unattainable, to reaffirm that little voice inside him saying he doesn't deserve to be loved. Of course, none of this is really true, but that's how the mind of someone with many traumas tends to work.
I think he would avoid relationships and commitments for a long time, and wouldn't be able to choose someone outside of his field of work. "Normal" people could never understand the things he does, they could try, but never fully comprehend. In my opinion, he would fall in love, without realizing it, with someone from his field of work, probably a teammate with whom he shared many experiences. Someone with whom he has a deep connection. And, as I mentioned at the beginning, I believe he would unconsciously seek out more complex people. I see him attracted to people with a similar outlook on life, who are tougher and more realistic. Who share a darker sense of humor. Who have also experienced some kind of trauma in the past, so they can understand how he feels. I imagine him in a relationship with someone who has these characteristics, and unlike him, is ambiverted or extroverted. Someone who challenges him, calls him out when he's wrong, or is determined. Someone honest, but not rude. Someone funny, smart, creative. Someone with a thirst for adventure and a spark, to contrast with some parts of him.
But honestly, I can't picture him with someone he deems pure and perfect. He doesn't feel worthy or even attracted to that. He tends to surround himself with people who are similar to him because that's where he feels comfortable. Just to clarify, it doesn't necessarily mean that this partner in question would be a bad or toxic person, but simply someone similar to him. I believe Price is the best example of that, who is good but not innocent, not entirely right.
In the end, I think the relationship with the chosen person would be a challenging but functional one. Not toxic, not abusive or destructive, just difficult. Traumatized people are human and fully capable of relating to each other, but it takes patience and determination, and a lot of work. I think that over time, they would improve greatly. Because Ghost's biggest fear is one-sidedness. He needs to know that he is protecting and helping, but he also needs to feel protected and helped.
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fettuccin-e · 7 months
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Angel Incarnate
Kinktober Day 7: Soft and Slow
Tags: Javier Peña x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, really really light angst, domesticity, javi is finally happy guys okay (w/c: 1K)
A/N: Alright so this is so fluffy it hardly even feels like a kinktober prompt but y'know what javi has his dick out so it counts okay. anyway i had a really fun time writing this because i love it when sad characters are happy it brings me insurmountable joy (For the month I've been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)
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Everything around him has always been so violent. His world has always been bloody and bruised and chaotic, and Javier had always supposed that it was just meant to be that way.
He didn’t deserve anything better than the angry pain of Bogatá. He’d hurt too many people, ripped apart too many lives to be redeemed, to deserve any kind of sweetness. His life boiled down to blood and tears, the endless race against the narcos too much to take anything slow. The only sex he had was rough and violent, just like his life, just like his soul.
Getting back to Laredo, to his father’s ranch, had been a kind of culture shock that he didn’t think he could experience anymore. The lack of gunfire, the lack of violence, day in and day out, had him reeling.
He’d tried burying himself in the work, fixing up his childhood home and tending to the cattle and the horses, hardly venturing into town at all. The people who knew Javi, the young man who left Laredo with a bride at the altar for a life as an agent, did not need to know Javier, the broken, hollow, shell of a man. He didn’t need their pity, their looks of confusion mixed with sympathy.
He regrets those first few months now, the ones that he spent hiding from the rest of the world. After all, the first time he went out into town, went into the only little library for miles, he found you.
And you, God, you’re so different. So kind and patient, even when he’s rough with you, even when he tries to push you away. It’s a kind of slow, soft sweetness that sings through his bones, that makes him feel human again. 
You’re slow with him, gentle in a way that he hasn’t been treated in years. He feels precious here, with you, between the soft sheets of your shared bed, as you roll your hips on top of him, taking him slow and so deep inside of you.
He wants to grip your hips so hard they bruise, roll you over and slam into you until you’re sobbing and writhing from the pleasure of it. He wants to press your face into the pillows and fuck you hard into the mattress. 
But he holds back, just like you want him to. Let yourself just feel, Javi, you had told him one day, after he’d taken control from you, just like he wants to right now. We don’t have to rush.
So he doesn’t. He brushes his hands along your waist, relishing in your soft skin as  you drop yourself down on his cock, over and over again. You gasp as he stretches you apart.
“That’s it, baby, so beautiful for me,” Javier murmurs. “That feel good, sweetheart?”
You nod, whining as he guides you down to grind deep into your g-spot. “It’s so- it’s so good, Javi. You feel so big like this.”
Javier groans as you clench around him, tight and wet and fucking perfect. The soft morning light filters through the curtains you put up last week, illuminating your skin and enshrining you like an angel. You are an angel, he thinks, as close to heaven as he’ll ever get.
He leans up, searching for a kiss that you gladly grant him. He loves kissing you, licking into your mouth and tasting you as you moan for him.
You curl your hands into his hair, grown longer with his time away from the DEA. The one time he’d asked you about cutting it, you’d protested so hard he’d laughed for thirty minutes straight. He’d started letting it grow after that.
You lean back up, undulating your hips in a way that has him groaning, pulling on your hips to help you along.
“You want to cum, Javi?” you murmur, pulling him in so fucking deep his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Por favor, nena, si,” he gasps, and God, you’re the only one that can make him beg like this. To make him desperate like this.
“Come on, honey, fill me up,” you coo, and Javi is lost to it. His hips jerk up of their own accord, pumping into you involuntarily with his orgasm. He spills into you without the fear of knocking you up, knowing that there’s no violence, no uncertainty with you. A small, not-so-secret part of him actually hopes it’ll take.
You whine above him, pushing your hips down on him over and over, frantic for your climax. He reaches a hand between you both and rubs slow, hard circles into your clit, and fuck, the way you cum will always steal the breath from his lungs. Your eyes clench shut, your mouth exhaling a beautiful, melodic little moan as you rock yourself on his cock, working yourself through it.
“That’s it, beautiful, so fucking good to me, so pretty for me,” he husks, and you curl yourself over him, meeting his lips in a sticky-wet kiss that has you both desperate for more. He palms his hands over your back, pulling you down to rest on top of him as you both breathe through the aftershocks of your orgasms.
You both don’t move for a long time, content to bask in each other’s warmth as the morning sun rises, bringing another day to spend together. It’s a kind of peace, a kind of contentment, he’d thought was a pipe dream for so, so long.
“How did I ever find you?” He murmurs into the quiet of the room. You tilt your head up from where it rests on his chest to smile softly at him. He feels like he could drown in your gaze.
“I think we were always meant to find each other,” you whisper, and like always, he knows you’re right.
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cottonundiestf · 1 month
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Plain Jane (Attribute Theft, BE, Altification)
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She hated that her parents named her Jane. They didn't know they were signing her up for torture. They didn't know Jane Gray would grown into an exceptionally plain young woman, turning the name she grew up with since childhood into the perfect insult. Plain Jane. Even her nickname couldn't be unique.
The eighteen-year-old finished the gauntlet of social torment that was high school and she didn't see how college was going to be any better. With her dishwater brown hair, stick-like figure, lower-middle class upbringing, and total lack of style, Jane was overlooked at best and teased at worst.
There was a big senior bonfire at the beach for graduates to celebrate their last summer before going off to college and jobs, and for some reason, Jane let her friend Danielle drag her out for one last hurrah.
When she got to the beach, everyone was having fun and barely noticed her arrival. She went to find Dani, but before she could, her eye was drawn to a gold necklace nestled in the cool sand. It had three gold moon charms of different phases, each seemingly missing a stone that should be set in it.
Jane considered looking for the owner of the necklace, but everyone was too busy to give her the time of day anyway, right? Screw it, she deserved one nice thing tonight.
She fastened the necklace around her neck as Dani, one of her only friends at school, found her. She handed Jane a drink so they could reflect on graduation and look ahead to college, an experience Jane still wasn't optimistic about.
"You're being too hard on yourself, Jane. Besides, college is going to be the perfect time to reinvent yourself."
Everyone always said that. But that was easy for Dani to say; she never had a problem standing out. She grew out of a goth look and attitude over the years, but that just left her as some kind of alt rock goddess, with her dyed hair and a collection of tattoos Jane's parents never would have signed off on at such a young age. Even her style was full of bold blacks and vibrant neons that Jane just could never pull off.
Jane wished she could be half as exciting as Dani while Dani seemed drawn to stare at her friend's new accessory. "Woah, that's a really cool necklace. Is it... um... new?"
Dani looked dizzy, her eyes starting to glaze over. "Dani? Dan—woah." The sudden wave of dizziness passed on to Jane, but it wasn't the only thing.
She felt the ripple of goosebumps across her skin as art pieces etched themselves in ink, each tattoo flooding her head with memories of tattoo parlors and songs that inspired them. It wasn't the kind of music Jane listened to, except... well, it was, right? Her and Dani traded songs and bands, sneaking out to underground concerts throughout high school. Dani was even the one to dye Jane's hair a vibrant blue before graduation.
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When the sudden wave of memories and pleasure associated with her tattoos subsided, Jane finally looked herself over, realizing she didn't imagine the change. She started to say something to Dani before looking her over again.
She had fewer tattoos and piercings; if Jane had to guess, she had lost about as many tattoos as Jane gained. What's more, her blue hair was now black with a few blue streaks. She was still gorgeous though, which was why Jane was dating her.
Wait. What?
Jane was always your typical straight girl, but that's not what her memories were telling her, and it certainly wasn't what her body thought. All those nights sneaking out weren't just to go to parties. Dani and Jane had their queer awakenings around the same time, and who better to explore that with then your punk rock bestie?
Dani finally came to, seemingly unaware of what changed or the features Jane... well, stole. Unintentionally, but that was absolutely what happened. "Want to get out of here and...?" Dani just grinned.
Jane felt the sudden warmth in her cheeks and... other places. "Yeah, let's—wait. Er, sorry, but not just yet. I... want to go around and talk to a few people first?"
Dani stared at her girlfriend blankly. "...You do?"
Jane laughed weakly, coming up with a lame excuse of wanting to end things on good terms before leaving her hometown in the Fall. Dani accepted the excuse with a kiss and left Jane alone to inspect her necklace.
As expected, this had to be involved somehow. The crescent moon charm had a new sapphire set in it, leaving her with two gemless moons. Assuming she knew what that meant now...
Jane wandered the periphery of the party, looking girls from her graduating class over. She felt a little guilty for what she took from Dani, but she didn't have the same apprehensions about the girls who spent the years ignoring her.
Eventually, she spotted Lily. Everyone knew she was a social butterfly and a huge flirt, and she had the look to back it up. She had the hips, she had the ass, and as every guy on the beach could tell you, she had a perfect pair of breasts. She even had a pretty face to match, proving fate played favorites.
But fate wasn't in charge tonight. "Hey Lily! Good luck next year. Got any plans?"
The redhead looked away from the two guys chatting her up, confused by the introvert's sudden friendliness. "Hey. Um, Jane, right? Thanks! I've got a job lined up, so... er... sorry, that's just a really nice... necklace?"
No one around them seemed to notice, but Lily and Jane were falling into the same daze she put Dani under before as their realities swapped a few key details around.
There was a sudden spark in Jane's heart. Something feisty. She was always an awkward, quiet kid, but that was all over. She was the one who made herself the life of the party wherever she went. She could feel it on her tongue; flirtation was like a second language Jane was fluent in.
Jane's beanpole figure filled out, her hips flaring to accommodate a new bubble butt. Her flat chest swelled, not quite to the perfectly shaped DDs Lily has... had, but to a size where she could feel them weighing on her chest. Lily was never actively antagonistic to Jane, so she was willing to leave her some gentle curves and some perky A cups.
But she did take all she could from that stunning face. Soft freckles, high cheek bones, full lips, and some fuck-me eyes that could make a man unload his wallet.
Which was what made Jane realize what else she took: the new job Lily had lined up. Jane's awkward, unimpressive body was now made to dance and show off, and that meant she was excited for the chance to strip her way through college for some spending money. She even stole Lily's stage name, Lulu. (It wasn't Lily at her most creative, but now it wasn't Lily's at all, so that was fine.)
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Lily finally came to, finishing her inspection of the new ruby in Jane's half-moon charm. Her face was so bland now, like a stock character made to fill in the background of a video game. When Jane smiled and excused herself, Lily looked around, unsure of what to do now. The poor thing would acclimate to her new social anxiety in time, and in time, Jane would adjust to the guys who kept offering her drinks.
With one charm left, Jane had an idea of who she'd use it on, but the night was young. She spent some time dancing and teasing guys from her class, reveling in the attention she lacked in her old life. This was almost perfect.
But perfection was Melody Morgan.
"Jane? No fucking way. That can't be Plain Jane."
Interrupting Jane's dancing, a blonde in a teeny bikini glared at her. Melody was your classic rich bitch, with the best toys, the most popular boyfriend, and a pair of fake tits bought by daddy as a graduation gift to add on to her natural beauty. All those blessings and she still chose to spend the last four years tormenting Jane.
The guy Jane was dancing with, Melody's boyfriend, Tristan, looked at her in confusion. "Plain Jane? Are you feeling okay, babe?"
"Hush!" She pulled her fingers across her lips like a zipper, and Tristan's voice cut out like he was muted. "I don't know what kind of trick this is, but... HEY! You took my necklace!"
Jane blinked, realizing what had happened. The charm necklace was Melody's. And with it, there came the realization that Melody's nice things weren't blessings; they were magic.
The realization dawned on her: what if this wasn't the first time Melody used magic to steal the luster from other girls?
"You little twerp. I'm going to turn you into the toad you are, then I'll take my... my neck..."
Melody was so arrogant, she didn't realize she was staring into the charms, falling under the power of a very pissed off Jane.
There was an element of intent with stealing from people, Jane realized. She wanted half of what made Dani so bold. She wanted most of Lily's beauty and allure.
But she wanted everything from Melody. The bitch didn't deserve any of it.
She didn't focus on herself because she wanted to watch Melody. She watched her thighs thin out and her curves flatten. The luster of her blonde hair went dull. The tact Jane used with Lily was gone as every bit of tit the bitch had, real or synthetic, dissolved until Melody's chest was as flat as the rest of her.
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Looks weren't all Melody didn't deserve. Memories started vanishing, from her honors classes to her active dating history to the witchy rituals her aunt taught her when she came of age. She looked around at the beach as all the faces became strangers to the witch who was once the most popular girl in her class.
Eventually, the plain, uneducated, outsider came to her senses, looking around only to realize everyone on the beach was acting like she didn't exist. The only person who seemed amused by her was an absolute goddess rocking tattoos and long, shiny blue hair.
The guy behind the bluette bombshell had his hands all over her, disregarding the stick-figure girl. "Who's this, babe?"
The blue-haired witch grinned wickedly, filled with the elitist attitude she stole from a top mean girl. She'd stolen her rival's body, mind, and boyfriend. Dani wasn't a stickler for monogamy, and really, didn't she deserve a boyfriend and a girlfriend?
But that wasn't the only thing she took from her former bully. "I don't know, Tristan. Hey bitch, what's your name?"
It took the mundane young woman a second to even remember. "Oh, um. Jane Morgan?"
That made Jane, now Melody laugh. "Oh, Plain Jane! I knew her once, but she just sort of fell off the face of the Earth. Glad to see you've been up to nothing interesting, but this is actually a closed party."
Melody Gray fiddled with her necklace, the full moon charm now adorned with a brilliant diamond to complete her set. It sat above an almost cartoonishly large chest. Maybe she went a bit overboard, but daddy promised her a boob job, and Melody loved when every guy and girl on the beach couldn't help but stare.
The queen bee of the beach sighed, officially done with Jane. She wasn't a bully anymore; she wasn't anything. She was insignificant, and that was enough for Melody. "Run off and do... well, who cares, right?"
Jane ran off with tears in her eyes, grappling with a sense of loss she couldn't quite explain as she ran off to her unremarkable life. Melody, meanwhile, reveled in her boyfriend groping her as her new memories as the popular it girl and richest witch in town replaced a much less interesting life she was happy to leave behind.
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(Thank you to my Sugar Patrons for helping me with another fun poll of suggestions! There was a tie, so that means you get attribute theft AND altification! The model used goes by Riae! Find ways to support me as a Sugar Patron on my Discord!)
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