#you're powerless but everything is your fault

[jonathanspenguinboxers]

PLS TALK ABOUT CLARY AND VALENTINE’S PARALLELS AND PERPENDICULARS I BEG YOU

Sorry for answering so late, but I didn't want to half-ass this because I genuinely love their dynamic. They are perfect foils. That being said, this is really long and I still could keep going 😓Also, I only did the parallels because it just got way too long to do both, so I'll do another post on perpendiculars and tag you! Also! This is NOT Clary Slander. I adore Clary, but she has flaws and I love them. I also recognize that she grows a lot, so a lot of their parallels are going to be towards the beginning of TMI, before she undergoes more growth. Lets begin!

A need for control. At the root, Valentine is very much ruled by his need for control and his fear of powerlessness. That is why he is so obsessed with the 'stronger race' and eradicating downworlders (who are stronger and faster, that he's explicitly questioned why they, nephilim, would be made to be weaker), it is based in his need to impose order in a world that he sees as dangerous and chaotic. Clary's instinct to control appears when her friends are in danger, like him, she cannot feel helpless and that is why she will do anything, create new runes, run into a vampire nest, jump through a portal by herself, defy authority, act completely recklessly- because that recklessness is her sense of control when it is out of her reach. She refuses to wait, refuses to listen to reason, because she will do what she believes she has to, she takes control and will not let anyone derail her from her path, even if it means putting herself or others in danger. Neither abide by what they perceive as injustice, and radically defy it as a way of controlling something they cannot change.

Isolation. Valentine, while surrounded always by followers, is eternally and profoundly alone. He trusts no one, not even his wife or parabatai and it emotionally isolates him from everyone. A quote that embodies him so much for me is when he talks to Jace and says "You're right, it is [your fault for hurting everyone around you]...The harm is not deliberate of course. But you are like me. We poison and destroy everything we love. There is a reason for that...We are meant for a higher purpose, you and I. The distractions of the world are just that, distractions. If we allow ourselves to be turned aside from our course by them, we are duly punished." The fact that he believes he cannot, by divine fate, love or trust anyone but himself, essentially correlating it to punishment and death. He lives only in self imposed isolation. Clary has always had loneliness in her connections. Simon and Jace both at some point remark that they "wish they could follow [her] inside of [her] head." That she is absent, even with her closest people. She has never fit inside the mundane world and even in the shadowhunter one she is an anomaly and Valentine's daughter. Also the whole thing about loving her brother and accepting of it in that she didn't expect for love to be easy for her. That she would be punished for it and this was just that, a punishment for love because she has always operated independently. She often acts with the underlying idea that she is a burden, such as running off on her own, or taking on danger by herself. They both create distance between the people around them because of their beliefs that they must shoulder their burdens alone.

Their identities are shaped by what they hate, not what they want to be. Valentine is shaped by his direct opposition and hatred to what he views as corruption, weakness from the clave, and of downworlders. His sense of self is firmly rooted in being against downworlders and the clave. He thinks this makes him right, rather than figuring out what right is and abiding by that, he abides only be not being. That is why he is such a hypocrite. Clary defines herself very much the same, that she is against Valentine and therefore a good guy, without looking to see what she even thinks is good, believing that being against bad automatically puts her there. Their identities are shaped by rebellion, by dissent to what they fervently hate, and as so they are very reactive and view the world in black and white terms. (Luke having to call out Clary when she had just been putting down downworlders and Luke for being in the circle, thinking her understanding of Valentine's bigotry automatically makes her superior and morally right, despite just spewing the same bigotry.)

Righteous and convicted. Clary sees things in very black and white terms, proclaiming people as 'evil' or 'good' the same way Valentine does. Clary sees him/the circle as absolutely evil, with no allowable reason or humanization. She shuts down Jocelyn, she questions and reprimands Luke, demeaning everything else they have done for the sake of moral highground and that unwavering conviction against evil. She deals in absolutes. Obviously, Valentine is exemplary in absolutes, wanting the eradication of all downworlders as well as anyone and everyone who defies him. He is convicted in his cause. To the point that he stood in front of an angel. They are righteous in the very definition of it, and have a limited black and white mindset that makes them focused and single-minded. Both of them believe they know what is best, whats most moral, that they are exemplary of these things, whilst being hypocritical of their own convictions. They are blinded by their vision to fix everything outside of them, seeing problems and projecting onto others while never looking within. That is, that Clary had people to turn it back on her, whilst Valentine was encouraged and enabled.

Next, rebellion. This is not surprising, and their most blatant similarity. Valentine rebelled during the academy, he skipped class, he had an inclination anywhere he went to defy authority, and obviously, the Clave. Clary is the same way, defying every and anything she deems unjust. She turned on Jocelyn after she found out she had lied, she spat on Valentine's shoes and bites back at every turn despite him typically having an upper hand, she defies adults regularly and consistently, such as the time she defied everyone by creating a portal by herself against better reason and Luke had to follow her and drag her out of Lake lyn. They do not yield. It took the wrath of an angel to take down Valentine, and I can't imagine what could take Clary. They are both predisposed to dissent, to standing up against who they perceive as the unjust and do not back down.

Charisma. Valentine was extremely charismatic and persuasive, I mean, he had the entire circle wrapped around his fingers. Clary, while not as directly and intentionally, is extremely magnetic and people are inclined to follow and to listen. My biggest example being during the alliance scene between shadowhunters and downwolrders. She commanded an entire room, brought together two very opposing sides alone. It's a beautiful mirror, that Valentine had been in the accords hall commanding all of the shadowhunters, and later on so was Clary. They are forces of nature. They both have presence and when they are in a room they are listened to. The TMI gang would go anywhere with Clary, even edom, because they have full faith and loyalty to her.

Perpendiculars coming soon! Thanks for getting all the way to the end of this if you did, let me know what you think, if you agree, or if you have things to add on!

[dollfat]

"i waited for her to come back and force me into the ground" is so bittersweet. fearing change and hoping someone will make the decision for you.

[seonghrtz]

teen!megumi ★ seeing you hurt is one of the things that has terrified megumi since he was a kid !

Megumi has always loved you. Perhaps from the moment Gojo carried him to your house when he was younger. You were the mother figure he never had, the person he knew he could rely on in any situation, the person he didn't have to be mature with all the time. You were always his safe haven.

Megumi may not have known how to express his own feelings or how to verbally express his adoration for you ⸻ he wasn't like Gojo, who was always making declarations of love to you. Sometimes Megumi envied Gojo for the ease with which he could say 'I love you' to you. But it never seemed to matter to you whether Megumi expressed his adoration for you verbally or not, it wasn't necessary as you understood it through his actions. You knew Megumi like the back of your hand and he was eternally grateful for that.

That's why one of Megumi's worst nightmares was losing you.

If he lost you, what would become of him? How would he manage without your care? How would Megumi survive in this world without being able to hide in your arms?

So when Megumi saw your exhausted and bruised body being thrown across the battlefield, he felt his whole body tremble and a sense of despair consume him.

Desperate, Megumi ran towards you, leaving Itadori and Kugisaki to fight the curse. And when he saw you lying on the floor with your eyes closed, bruises all over your exposed skin and bright crimson blood dripping from your forehead and mouth, Megumi's legs went weak and he fell to his knees beside you. With trembling hands Megumi grabbed your shoulders and rocked you, hoping that you would open your eyes and say that everything was fine. But unfortunately this utopian fantasy didn't come true.

Maybe it was all just a dream. A nightmare of that night ⸻ the night you sacrificed yourself to save Megumi when he was still a child. And if it was just a nightmare, Megumi would wake up at any moment and run into your arms. You would hold him with such affection and love that he wouldn't be able to hold back the tears because he knew you were all right.

But Megumi didn't wake up.

And it wasn't a nightmare, it was reality.

Megumi's voice faltered and he held back his tears, you were there, in front of him, injured, on the verge of death, and he could do absolutely nothing, powerless in a critical situation.

"Hey, Fushiguro!" Yuji ran over to where Megumi was standing, "I think I'd better take Kamo-sensei to Shoko-san, Nobara's already called Kiyotaka-san.” The pink-haired boy looked at his friend and felt sad for him. Itadori had heard Megumi's story and how Gojo and Kamo had saved the little boy (and his sister) from the clutches of the Zenin clan. And Itadori also knew how much Megumi admired and loved the woman he called his mother, it was evident in his expression. "Come on, Fushiguro, we'd better go quickly if we don't want to lose her."

Without saying a word Megumi slipped his arms around your back and behind your knees and started to run with you in his arms to where the car was parked, waiting for the sorcerers.

The corridor was dark and cold. Megumi was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, his head down, holding back his tears. He couldn't cry, he had to be strong ⸻ be strong for you. Megumi had to stay positive, Shoko would save you no matter what.

"It's going to be all right." Gojo's voice echoed through the silent corridor. Megumi raised his head and met his sensei's crystal blue orbs. "Y/n is one of the strongest sorceresses there is, she's seen worse.”

"It's my fault." Megumi's voice was deep, "It's my fault that she's in this situation..."

"Don't blame yourself Megumi. It wasn't your fault."

"I should have paid more attention and listened to her instructions."

"Situations like this happen all the time when you're a jujutsu sorcerer, don't blame yourself for something you couldn't do. And Y/n is fine, she'll be fine, I know my wife very well. And I also know that she would hate to see you get hurt on her watch, so don't blame yourself for giving her life to save you." Gojo's hand reached for Megumi's head, ruffling the boy's ebony locks. "You better go to your room, I'll call you when she wakes up."

"I don't want to go."

"Don't be stubborn. Y/n will make me sleep on the sofa if she finds out I've let you sleep in the hallway."

"That's your problem, I'm not going."

"Come on, Megumi! I thought we were past that stage." Gojo sat down beside Fushiguro. "Are you going to get the silent treatment now?" A short laugh escaped Gojo's lips when he noticed Megumi's lack of reaction. "Okay then…”

The next day, Megumi woke up to a conversation next to him. He noticed Gojo and Shoko talking outside the room you were in.

"Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?" Gojo smiled in the direction of Megumi who got up from the floor and stretched slightly, "She wants to see you."

"Is Mom awake?" He asked hopefully.

"Go ahead, I'll be right back with breakfast." Gojo gave Megumi a light squeeze on the shoulder before leaving with Shoko.

With a little trepidation Megumi slowly opened the bedroom door and saw you lying on the bed in the corner of the room, close to the wall. With light, quiet steps, the boy walked to the edge of the bed and stood, watching you. You were clean, not a drop of blood running down your face, and the bandages on your wounds were clean too. You were well. You were alive.

"Megumi..." You spoke quietly and opened your eyes, startling the boy a little.

"Mom..." his voice was weak, surprised and relieved at the same time.

You raised your hand and brought it close to Megumi's face. The boy, who had expected you to stroke his cheek with your thumb, was surprised when you tugged at his ear.

"Mom!"

"I told you to stay out of danger, Fushiguro Megumi." You said seriously, but then stopped pulling on his ear and hugged him, "Thank you for saving me.”

"You scared me..."

"I'm sorry, my dear." You smiled and released Megumi from your embrace, "I wouldn't let you get hurt, not for a second time."

"I'm not a child, I can take care of myself." A pout formed on Megumi's lips.

"I know, I know." You laughed at the younger man's reaction, "And of course you know how to handle yourself, you're my son, but you'll always be my little boy.”

Without thinking, Megumi hugged you again. Sinking his face into the curve of your neck, he felt a motherly affection that he had never known until he met you, and he let the tears roll down his cheeks.

After all, you were his mother and he was your son.

© seonghrtz, 2023. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[captain-bubble-wrap]

HELP ME PLEASE

Your quinn is literally my favorite!!!!!!!!!!! Can you write him and reader!girlfriend on the phone after the stars game? Your sweet/sad quinn is the best!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you're WAY TO KIND TO ME...! 🥹🥹 Let's see what I can do!

All you had texted was, "I love you."

Incoming Call: Quinny

Quinn's broken voice in that post-game interview had killed you. The way he had looked down before answering about how he was feeling, his thoughts on Millsy's trade, and how he was handling the noise of the dressing room as the team's captain -- it was obvious how much it all was affecting him. Unfortunately, you were twenty-two-hundred miles away, and you felt powerless to help him in any form.

"Hey, baby," you said upon answering the call.

Quinn's voice was low, and it was obvious he was beyond exhausted, body and mind, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." Your stomach tightened like you were about to receive some bad news. You hadn't heard him sound this way before and given how the day had gone, you knew it wasn't going to be a butterfly-inducing conversation.

"Let me get somewhere a little quieter. I need to hear your voice."

To you, he sounded desperate -- like he was at his breaking point. While you waited for him to walk to wherever he needed to be, you couldn't help but worry about him -- about what had caused him pain during the game, how losing JT and the others was weighing on him, and the stress of the upcoming tournament that was just four games away. You couldn't get the sad look of his face out of your mind. When was the last time he had actually had a good day, that he was happy without nagging stresses?

"Hey Mike, I'm gonna step out for a few minutes," Quinn said, obviously not talking to you. You couldn't hear the other man's reply but it must have been favourable as Quinn would finally start his conversation with you just a few seconds afterwards.

He sighed heavily, "I wish you were here. I-- I feel like everything is out of control and I don't know what to do."

The sound of wind was intertwined with his words. You wondered if he had stepped outside the arena to talk to you, somewhere to speak without listening ears.

"I wish I was there, too," you confessed, a pain growing in your heart. "You're trying to carry too much, baby."

"I have no choice, though."

You knew where he was coming from. The title of Captain meant you wore several hats, and sometimes more than one at a time. You knew he had all of them on at once. This season hadn't been easy, and something had you believing it wasn't going to get any better.

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he breathed out, feeling guilty for calling you when he was feeling like he was. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I just don't know what to do. Everyone is looking to me for answers and insight, but I don't have any. I don't know how to fix the team, I'm carrying as much as I can every night. I'm asked about what's going on behind closed doors and the temperature of the room and I'm over it. It's like the media just wants to keep stirring the pot instead of letting us just work it out. Now I'm being asked about if the team rebuilds what that means for my future in Vancouver. I-- I just-- I can't-- handle everything right now." Your heart was breaking hearing him on the brink of tears. His voice was cracking and shaky. "I need you."

"I wish I was there, sweetheart. I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I love you," his voice at a whisper.

"I love you, too, Quinn."

The first whimper made you cover your mouth to keep yourself from doing the same. Quinn rarely cried, at least not when you were around. To hear him finally drop that ultra-reserved demeanour of his was crushing.

"Oh honey, you'll be okay," you tried to reassure him, but they were words without certainty, you knew that. "You're doing the best you can, and you need to realise that you need to put yourself first sometimes. You're pushing yourself too much. It's not on you to solely fix the team, Quinn, though I know you're trying. I've never seen you this way before, and I'm scared it's going to break you."

He was silent on the other end, aside from his muffled cries. You didn't need him to say anything, though hearing his voice would have made you feel better, which made you remember what he had said to you earlier: "I need to hear your voice."

Maybe he just needed you to talk to him.

"One day at a time, baby, please. Be happy where you are, and what you have. You're doing all you can, and I need you to know that it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to be content with how things are. You know there are things out of your control, and you just have to let them work themselves out sometimes. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to put bandaids on everything. I don't want to lose you down that rabbit hole." You'd pause before adding one more thing, "I just want you to be okay."

Quietly you'd sit there and wait for a sign from him, or whatever it might be. A long moment of silence would follow your words, making you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"I miss you," he choked out, breaking the painful silence between the two of you.

"I miss you more, Quinn. I wish you were here."

"Me, too," he said, sharply inhaling, like he was trying to push those emotions back down and get over it. "Thank you for picking up everything -- the call, the pieces...me. I'd be so lost without you."

You'd shake your head, "You never have to thank me, baby. I just want to help you."

"I appreciate that," he sniffled. "I just wish I knew where to start."

"With yourself, Quinn," you said bluntly. "How are you feeling? I saw you take the stick to the head early."

It took him a few seconds to respond but you didn't mind, "I don't know, honestly. Between my hand and whatever is wrong with my leg, everything hurts. I'm tired. I'm drained."

Everything he said carried so much weight and his emotions were so painfully honestly.

That was just Quinn.

He always spoke from his heart; wearing his heart on his sleeve every waking moment of his life. However this had a different air about it -- a nakedness. He was free to share his deepest fears with you, those raw feelings were bleeding from him with no hindrance. You appreciated that he felt so comfortable to open up like he was, and the fact that he was away from you, as well. Quinn didn't give the hint that he shared stuff like this with the guys on the team -- not like he did with you. You were different. He loved you -- you occupied a special piece of his heart like no on else did. That meant something special to him.

"You'll be home soon, baby. Just a little longer, okay?"

Through Quinn's end of line, someone was calling out to him, "C'mon Quinn-- the boy's are packing up, let's go."

You frowned hearing the empty orders, but you knew Quinn would have to end the call with you and head to the airport. There was always a sense of urgency after their games, especially the away ones.

"Yeah-- I'll be right there," he muttered, his voice dropping off at the end while he pretended to have himself together. "I'll call you when we get back to Vancouver."

"Be careful."

"I will," he paused. "Thanks, babe. For all that you do for me."

"Happy to help, Quinny. I love you."

For the first time, you heard his little giggle, "I love you, too."

[apricustar]

there’s been a lot of talk about the kitchen scene—a lot of people calling eddie abusive, cruel, and emotionally volatile. but i think what that completely misses—what it refuses to see—is the truth about grief:

grief is not gentle or pretty. it is often an angry, twisting, acridic beast that refuses to leave you. it comes out in sharpness, in silence; in saying exactly the wrong thing to the person you love most because you don't know how else to make them hear you.

that is what we see in 8x17.

eddie wasn't being abusive; YOU are completely misunderstanding that scene—and eddie himself; buck, too.

buck is psychologically self-referential. not selfish, exactly—more self-centered, but not in the egotistical sense—in the trauma-informed sense. it's an adaptive behavior that helped him survive a childhood where love had terms and affection and prerequisites. he learned to monitor every mood shift, every silence, every closed door—because if something went wrong, it had to be his fault. and this was reinforced by his parents' behavior towards him!!!

so now? everything still feels like it's about him. because it had to be. because that was the only way to feel safe. buck internalizes everything. when something goes wrong, his first thoughts are: what did i do? what did i miss? that's not ego, that's fear.

but eddie deals with emotion like a live wire. he bottles it up, he locks it down. he was taught growing up that's what it takes to be a man—don't cry. don't ask for help, grit your teeth and keep moving. he waits. he stews. and when it finally breaks through? it comes out like it did last night—sharp, reactive, a ribbon of hurt tying everything together.

and this is not new! eddie does this when he feels powerless. when something big is shifting inside of him and he feels helpless—when he doesn't know how admit the true feelings inside of him. so instead we get things like the grocery store fight during the lawsuit, accusing buck of sabotaging the showings earlier this season, and the kitchen scene.

same structure. same rupture. same desperate attempt to push back because he doesn't know how to pull in.

when eddie says these things to buck—you're exhausting, you're making it all about you—he's poking where it hurts, on purpose. all of it—every jab, every flare of anger—comes from a place of not knowing how to properly articulate the truth underneath.

eddie expresses his needs rarely, if ever. he doesn't ask for closeness—he tests for it. more than anything, in that kitchen, i think he was trying to provoke buck into something—a reaction, a fight, anything.

because buck has been so shut down, largely unreachable, and imagine being eddie—watching the one person you always turn to drift out of orbit. being physically closer than you've been to him in months, and still, he feels further away than when you were in texas.

how do you ask for someone back when you don't know how to ask for anything at all?

this is all that people keep missing when they reduce eddie to 'abusive' or buck to 'selfish'. they see the surface of their words, but not the wounds they're coming from.

on a fundamental level, buck and eddie are incompatible in how they handle emotion, communicate, and cope, but they are unshakably bound in how they love. because underneath all the misfires and misunderstandings, they are two people shaped by trauma and silence—by never being taught how to ask for what they need.

and still—somehow—they keep trying. with each other.

so when buck apologizes for being sad bobby’s dead and eddie snaps—he isn't rejecting buck's grief. he's rejecting the idea that buck's pain is somehow exceptional; he's saying: why aren't you here you haven't talked to me you haven't asked me how its been for me you're right in front of me and i can't reach you i want to do this together—

the scene wasn't abuse—it was human; a very raw representation of the way grief twists its way into every corner of your love, your relationships, your voice. it was love—sharp-edged and realistic in its imperfection and messiness, ever fighting to be seen.

eddie's feeling invisible and alone inside his grief; he's seeking connection. he wants buck to react, to be present, to talk to him.

the beauty of all of this is that after everything, eddie brings christopher for buck. its not just an apology. it's a gesture of reclamation. because eddie knows buck has been feeling isolated—not just from him, but from the entire team. buck himself expresses that everyone's been walking on eggshells, treating him like something fragile, like grief made him untouchable.

so eddie does the one thing he knows how to do: he acts. he brings buck his (their) son. he brings pepa. he brings family.

regardless of how eddie responded in the kitchen, he walks it back in the way he always does: through action. and wordlessly, he's saying: you belong you're ours you are wanted.

and no one gets to make buck feel otherwise. no one gets to be mean to buck.

not the team, and certainly not eddie himself.

buck and eddie are able to hurt each other as acutely as they do because they know one another. that is the risk of love: you open yourself to the possibility of pain; to be loved is to be known, changed, and vulnerable in ways you can’t take back.

eddie is able to be mad and feel these emotions and express them in these ways because he knows he—in his entirety—is safe with buck. even the ugly stuff. take note of this fight vs. how gentle eddie was with taking chris back from his parents. he can feel and act without filtering it first with buck. he can just be.

both buck and eddie keep choosing one another in a variety of ways—keep showing up, keep staying. even when they’re being harsh, even when they’re being unfair—even when they’re at their worst. they keep going, keep trying. love is persistence, dedication, devotion; buddie is all that and more.

[les4elliewilliams]

bound by love // ex-girlfriend!ellie

☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆

daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

wc/warnings: 5.6k ; strap-on sex (r!receiving), tribbing, oral (r!receiving), cheating, use of names like whore, slut, baby etc. and toxic relationship. do NOT read if you're sensitive about this kind of stuff!! do not romanticize toxic relationships and run far away from toxic people.

a/n: also first time writing smut so please be kind😭. not proofread so i'm sorry if you find any mistakes

pairing: toxic!ellie, ex-girlfriend!ellie also stalker!ellie???(just ellie stalking your social media and location) and jealous!ellie ig.

☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆

I know that you're shitty and you're bad for me

But I can't stop thinking 'bout it

✩ You used to console yourself by saying that the problem was not you but her. You believed that she was the one who caused all the issues in the relationship. However, as time passed, you started to realize that the situation was more complex than you initially thought. You began to question your own actions and words and wondered if you could have done things differently. You tried to stay positive by reminding yourself that sometimes things don't work out, and it's okay to move on. But you couldn't move on.

✩ Despite all your efforts to move on and forget about her, you always found yourself drawn back to her for some weird reason. You tried everything you could think of to let her go — you blocked her on every platform you could, hoping it would help you move on, but it never seemed to work. No matter how hard you tried to forget her, you always ended up unblocking her, usually within an hour of blocking her. It was as if you were powerless to resist the pull she had on you, no matter how much you wanted to be free of her.

✩ You were the one who broke up with her, claiming she was too toxic for you. However, you cannot deny that you also had your fair share of faults. Both of you were aware of the toxicity in your relationship, but still, it lasted for three whole years. You often wonder how you were able to tolerate her for so long. She always seemed to go out of her way to provoke you and get a reaction out of you. She would intentionally make you jealous, making nasty comments about other women's bodies to make you insecure and maybe even cry. She loved it when you got possessive and jealous; that was the only way she felt cared for and loved. She constantly needed reassurance, and her overthinking would stop only when you got possessive of her or extremely jealous; it didn't make sense, and she knew it wasn't normal, yet she couldn't help herself. But it wasn't only that. She was also extremely manipulative and a liar. It was a never-ending cycle of negativity, and both of you were caught up in it.

✩ If she was a toxic girlfriend, imagine how toxic she was once you two were broken up. When you broke up with her, you thought you were better off as friends, but soon enough, you started to realize how wrong you were.

✩ Even though she treated you poorly throughout your relationship, you always returned to her. Your love for her was strong, and it seemed as though returning to her was the only thing that felt right. Even though she was responsible for causing you a significant amount of emotional pain, she still felt like home to you — like the person who you could always run to whenever you needed it. She always knew the right thing to say to calm you down, cheer you up, and sometimes even make you cry. That was the thing about Ellie that confused you the most; She could be either the best person ever or the worst.

✩ When something big goes down in your life, she's the one you call up first. It doesn't matter if it's something totally dumb or something that seriously ticks you off, she's the one you rely on for comfort and support, and she's always there to baby you.

"S'okay baby— mhm, you got this," whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you rambled about your day "Want me to beat them up for you? You know I would," and she wasn't kidding, sending whoever made you mad to the ER without you even knowing it. You have always been someone who disliked violence. In fact, you were never the kind of person who would resort to violence, no matter how heated a situation may have been. You've always been the rational one between the two of you, thinking things through before acting. On the other hand, she was more impulsive, acting without much thought or consideration for the consequences of her actions. Anyway, you would find out what Ellie did to your coworker when he showed up with a cast around his arm, threatening to take legal action against her. You always found yourself in the middle of the conflict, pleading with your coworker not to sue Ellie and trying to smooth things over.

✩ Lots of

"you're the hottest girl i've ever dated" "i would take you back in a heartbeat" "i still have a soft spot for you" "best pussy i've ever had"

✩ She'd randomly show up at your place in the middle of the night, pounding on your door, little did you know she'd be pounding into you the second you let her in

"nfuckk— my pussy…s'all mine" Murmuring nonsense into the crook of your neck as she fucked your tight little hole with the new strap she desperately wanted to show you (which became your favorite for obvious reasons). "think anyone else can make you feel like this, hm?" and she wouldn't let you cum if you didn't reply, she wanted to hear you say that you belonged to her and her only.

✩ She constantly checked your social media accounts like a fucking maniac, fearing that you may have moved on or started spending time with other girls. This behavior was not healthy, and she was aware of it. Despite that, she couldn't help herself and even had access to your location, which she used to stalk you whenever you didn't respond to her messages or calls quickly enough. On two separate occasions, she unexpectedly showed up while you were on dates with other girls. At first, you brushed it off as a coincidence, but after the second time, you realized that she still had your location and that her sudden appearance was not coincidental at all. Therefore, you turned off the location sharing. and in no time she was blowing up your phone with texts

"why the fuck would you turn it off?" "moving on already?" "where the fuck do you even think you're going?" "try all you want, but you know who you belong to"

✩ It became increasingly clear that you and her were not meant to be friends. You still belonged to her in her mind — and perhaps it wasn't just in her mind. Deep down, you knew that she was right even though you were no longer together.

✩ Although you had repeatedly told Ellie that you wouldn't get back together, she remained convinced that you would eventually return. Instead of giving up, she actively pursued ways to reconnect with you. She would often surprise you by showing up at your apartment with a bouquet of your favorite flowers or things she knew you would like.

"Ellie, what're you doin' here?" you asked as you saw your ex-girlfriend holding a lovely bouquet of flowers in her hand. You were taken aback as you looked at the bouquet  — it was a Hello Kitty bouquet. You had mentioned this type of bouquet to Ellie before you broke up, and you were surprised that she even listened to you when you kept rambling about how cute it was. You had seen it on Pinterest before and never thought she would remember. Her green eyes met yours, and she scratched the back of her neck before flashing a warm smile your way. She knew you'd love it.  "Hi, angel," she said. She handed you the bouquet and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. Her free hand quickly found its way to your waist. She leaned back enough to gauge your reaction and asked with a cocky smile, "What d'you think?" The sudden appearance of Ellie took you aback, but you couldn't help but admire the bouquet in your hands. The Hello Kitty plushie and the colorful flowers were so cute. You didn't expect her to remember your love for this particular bouquet, but you were grateful that she did. "May I come in?" Her tone was confident, and her eyes shone with a mischievous glint. You couldn't help but wonder what she was up to, but you stepped aside to let her in nonetheless.

✩ She would listen intently to everything you said during your relationship and make mental notes of all the things you wanted or needed. However, she never acted on them until you broke up with her. Suddenly, she would start getting you those things, being the girlfriend you always wanted her to be, trying to convince you to give her another chance. But you weren't stupid; you knew that as soon as you let her back into your life, she would go back to her usual self, and her toxic behavior would come out once again.

✩ She showered you with compliments, gifts, and attention, making you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered to her. When she realized that her love bombing wasn't working on you, she changed her tactics. She began dating a girl she had always insisted was "just a friend," even though you had always felt insecure about her because you thought she was prettier than you. But Ellie was using this girl only to get to you. She wanted to make you jealous and make you feel like you were missing out on something she could provide. She hoped you would come back to her, begging for another chance. You were devastated and couldn't help but compare yourself to this other girl, wondering what Ellie saw in Dina that she didn't see in you. But as time passed, you began to realize that Ellie was playing games. She didn't care about this girl, or about anyone else for that matter. To her, you were the one that got away, the one that she couldn't have. And so she used this other girl as a pawn in her game, hoping to win you back. But you didn't fall for it.

✩ She just went ahead and started posting pictures with her new girlfriend on Instagram to make sure you saw them and felt like shit. And, well, it worked like a charm. Even though you knew she was doing it on purpose to upset you, it still hurt like hell because she never posted pictures of the two of you together on social media, claiming she preferred to keep things private but as soon as she started dating her new girlfriend, she suddenly started posting about her non-stop, which made you feel even more hurt and insecure.

✩ You realized that cutting ties with Ellie and blocking her from all platforms would have been the wise thing to do. but let's be honest, getting revenge felt much more satisfying than being wise sometimes. You wanted to show her that you were not someone to be toyed with cause that's what you felt like: a toy. You started seeing a girl you had recently met, but you made sure not to make it too obvious. You didn't want Ellie to think you were only doing it to get back at her. Of course not, it had to look natural. You wanted to show her that you had moved on with your life and that you were over her. Even though it was quite the opposite, you weren't over her.

✩ When you began sharing pictures of your new girlfriend, she dropped her fake composed demeanor and started bombarding your phone with messages. You finally had her exactly where you wanted her.

2:33 am "who the fuck is that girl in your story?" 2:34 am "hello?" 2:36 am "answer your goddamn phone" 2:37 am "Why do you even care, Ellie? you're in a relationship." 2:39 am "what the actual fuck" 2:42 am "tell me" 2:46 am "who is she" 2:53 am "My girlfriend."

✩ After that, she vanished from social media and every other platform for nearly a week, leaving you on read. You had mixed emotions about it. On one hand, you felt a sense of pride for getting back at her. It was working because she seemed jealous. On the other hand, there was a part of you that couldn't help but miss her. You longed for her presence and wished she would come back. Her presence wasn't the only thing you longed for; you missed her hands all over your body, touching you just in the right places. She knew you like the back of her hand. She knew exactly how to make you arch your back and make you scream her name.

✩ You couldn't cum. It had been weeks, maybe a month, and your little friend down there was starting to ache. You were horny, so fucking horny, but you couldn't cum. All you could think of was your fucking ex-girlfriend almost as if your pussy had a mind of her own. Not even your favorite toys were helping. it felt good, but you felt like something was missing. You reached out to the nightstand and grabbed your phone, unlocking the screen with a swift gesture and opened the messaging app. It was wrong, so wrong and you knew you would regret it the next day, but you needed her. Your fingers moved effortlessly across the virtual keyboard as you typed a message to her.

 1:15 am "Els, I know it's wrong but"  1:15 am "I'm horny"  1:16 am "I need you, please"

You let out a deep sigh of frustration as ten long minutes ticked by, convinced she wouldn't text you back. The last conversation you had hadn't gone well, and you were starting to think it was all over between the two of you, for real this time. Just as you were about to give up and put your phone back on the nightstand, you heard a familiar chime. Your heart leaped into your throat as you saw that it was her.

1:27 am "lol your little gf can't make you feel good like i do?" 1:29 am "omw"

In just 10 minutes, she was back in your apartment, in your arms, and inside you. It was almost like nothing happened like she hadn't just made you cry for a whole month for getting with the girl who made you deeply insecure. All her 8 inches buried deep into your soaked hole, stretching it out and making it hurt, but it felt good. "Is this what you wanted, hm?" she kept mumbling random things into the crook of your neck, not that you were listening to anything she was saying; she was fucking you dumb, and you couldn't seem to focus on anything else but her thick strap pounding into you relentlessly, hitting your cervix just right. You were a mess, literally. "Ellie...nngfuck.. slow down" you breathed out between incoherent moans, panting like a fucking dog in heat "Take it, slut. Show me how much you missed me." She hissed, thrusting hard into you, all your juices spilling out of your pussy, making a mess on your pink sheets. All she wanted to do was destroy you, mark you as hers.

"C-can't," you whined as pornographic moans left your throat. She groaned deep in her throat, savoring the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, almost as if her life depended on them. She missed this so much. She missed you so much. She increased the pace, pushing deeper into you each time. Her hands moved to your hips, gripping them tightly as she continued to thrust her hips against yours, her thrusts becoming faster and harder, your breath coming out in heavy gasps. "So fucking tight, baby," she panted, her voice hoarse with need "You belong to me, don't you?" She bit down on your neck, her teeth grazing lightly against your delicate skin, leaving behind a mark as evidence of her claim over you; you whimpered at the sensation. You were hers, no one else's. She wanted to mark you all over, hoping your girlfriend would see the hickeys on your breasts and neck the next day.

All you could do was nod frantically, "m'yours, all yours" you babbled out, painfully arching your back. So fucking incoherent. Especially after promising yourself that you would never let her lay a finger on you ever again. But you were desperate, you needed to cum, and you needed her right now. "That's my girl, only I can fuck you like this, yeah?" Her hands roamed all over your body, pinching your nipples and rubbing your throbbing nub harshly. She wanted to hear you beg for her and admit how much you needed her. She needed you to need her.

"Tell me how much you missed my cock." She demanded, slamming into you again and again. Your high-pitched moans filled the room, each one driving her wilder. She could feel her own climax building as her clit bumped against the back of her strap with each thrust; the sound of your pleas combined with the tightness of your pussy around her strap-on were enough to push her closer and closer to the edge. You felt that familiar sensation build in your stomach; you were close. "Soo much, ahhh!...missed it, yeah.." you couldn't even put together a proper sentence. Her grip on your hips tightened, tugging slightly as she continued to thrust into you, hitting the spot that had you rolling your eyes into the back of your skull, over and over until you couldn't hold back anymore.

"That's it, whore. Cum for me. You don't belong to anyone else," she snarled, her voice laced with possession. She knew just what to do or say to push you over the edge, and it worked every single time; that's why you ran to her whenever you needed a good fuck. She could feel your body tensing up and your pretty pussy clenching around her strap-on. You came simultaneously, your combined moans filling your cozy bedroom, her well-defined abdominal muscles glistening with a thin layer of sweat. She rolled you over, so now you were on top of her, riding out your orgasm on her silicone cock as she ground her clit against the back of her strap.  "Oooh fuuuck!" you cried out as pretty moans left your mouth. She took in the sight of you on top of her, her strap still buried deep inside you, riding her cock; your tits bounced as you did so, a sight that she loved. No one did it like you. No one was remotely as good as you. She took a glimpse of your cum sliding down the strap, you were so fucking wet, and nasty wet sounds filled the room, but she loved it. "Fuck, baby," she groaned, clenching her teeth tightly together, causing her jaw muscles to bulge prominently. Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you moved your hips, setting the pace, your eyes locked on hers the entire time. Her fingers dug into your skin, leaving small marks that she knew would fade within hours but would always remind her of this moment. Her veiny hand reached up, grabbing one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly and twisting the nipple between her fingers. Your breath came out in ragged gasps, her eyes never leaving yours as she watched you take her cock like the fucking slut you were. "Taking me so well, such a good girl f'me, aren't ya?"

"El..." you whined as she toyed with your nipple. You weren't going to last long; you were still sensitive and your pussy couldn't handle it. "'m gonna cum again!" you cried out once again, bouncing faster on her thick strap. She watched you with unabashed hunger, her eyes never leaving your body as it moved above her. She thrust up, meeting your movements, pushing you closer to the edge. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with your thrusts and the strap disappearing inside your juicy-coated pussy almost made Ellie cum right then and there. Your thighs started to tremble, and she could feel you clench around her dick; your gasps and moans becoming more frequent. She wasted no time, her fingers digging into your hips as she slammed you down on her strap, making you cry out her name, "Just like that, yeah...take it."

When you finally collapsed against her, panting heavily, Ellie couldn't help but smile. "Mine," she rasped, her voice thick with possession and satisfaction. As your bodies finally came down from their highs, breaths slowly returning to normal, she pulled out of you, leaving your wet and sore pussy gaping open. You whined at the sensation, suddenly feeling empty.

The smile plastered on her face faded as you pulled away, the coldness in your voice seeping into the air between you two as you told her to return to her girlfriend. She reluctantly mimicked your movements and sat up, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes met yours, searching for any trace of warmth or affection, but all she found was distance. She grabbed her clothes and started to dress herself quickly, trying to calm down, her movements precise and controlled, hiding the hurt and anger she felt at your words. She was confused. You had called her, and she thought you were ready to take her back into your life. She wasn't expecting you to discard her like a toy. "I see how it is," she muttered, her voice cold and distant. She gathered her belongings, not meeting your gaze. "I shouldn't have come here." When she was fully clothed, Ellie turned to face you, her eyes filled with regret and anger.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have," your tone coming off as sharp and cold. You put your shirt on, struggling to process what happened. You missed her so fucking much, and the sex with her was also something you missed a lot. You knew she was right when she told you that no one could fuck you like she did; your girlfriend couldn't even make you cum, while Ellie knew precisely how to touch you to make you feel good. "Can't believe it...Dina, really?" you muttered under your breath as you got dressed, catching her off guard. Your outburst was so sudden neither you could understand it. She could sense the jealousy in your voice and knew exactly what was going on, and the realization made her feel a twinge of satisfaction. "Is this what it's all about? Me fucking with Dina?" she scoffed, her eyes rolling in annoyance. But despite her outward annoyance, she was secretly glad you still cared and got jealous. It meant that you had never indeed gotten over her. You struggled to maintain eye contact with her, the words "Just…get out" barely escaped your lips. You felt a burning sense of shame for letting your jealousy get the best of you, but at the same time, you couldn't help but release all the pent-up emotions you had been holding in for so long.

She snorted from her nose, shaking her head in disbelief, almost amused by all this "Just say the word, and I'll dump her ass," she said in a flat tone, her emerald green eyes staring right back at you as she placed her hands on her hips. You could tell she was serious, as there was a hint of desperation in her voice. She was hoping you'd ask her to drop Dina's ass and come back to you, but of course, you didn't. "I would do anything for you" desperate, so fucking desperate. You let out a deep sigh and firmly shook your head, looking into her eyes. You could see the pain and desperation in her gaze, but you couldn't just let her back into your life like that. "Go," you repeated yourself. "Fine, whatever," she sounded so pissed, disappointed. For a moment, you wanted to take your words back, but you knew that letting her into your life again was the worst idea ever.

✩ That night only made it incredibly difficult for you to move on from her (not that you could before), but she was all you could think of. You found yourself constantly yearning for her at every moment of the day. You'd often text her, and she would always come over, no matter what she was in the middle of. She was willing to drop everything to be with you and 8 inches inside you or between your thighs. Even if she was out with Dina, she didn't seem to care — it became obvious that something was going on between you and Ellie. You couldn't understand how Dina couldn't tell that Ellie was cheating on her with you.

6:34 pm "Baby, need you" 6:36 pm "I'm so wet, been thinking about you all day :(" 6:37 pm "proof??"

✩ One of the things you used to do quite regularly was sending her nudes. You would send her nudes on Snapchat unexpectedly, mostly to surprise her or get some sort of reaction from her. Sending snaps to tease her was one of your favorite things to do. Whether it was a picture of you in sexy lingerie or a video of you playing with your pussy, riding the purple strap she had left at your place weeks ago. You loved making her horny, and it always worked. She would always end up knocking at your door, eager to fuck you or eat you out.

"Teasin' me like that in public — tsskk," She mumbled against your throbbing core as she teased your clit with her tongue. Your legs were on her shoulders, and you watched her head disappear between your thighs. Your fingers tightly gripped into her auburn hair as she devoured like a starved animal, so pussy drunk. But even in that state, she was such a sight.

✩ You were the only one she could think about, even when fucking her girlfriend. Her mind too fixated on the cute little whimpers that left your mouth when she was inside you or sucking on your clit. The way your legs trembled when you were close, your hips jerking away from her when it became too much for you. No one could make her wet like you did, it was a fucking curse having to fuck someone else while thinking of you, hoping that would be enough to trick her brain into thinking she was fucking you instead.

✩ She would save each of your snaps into her phone's gallery and meticulously organize them into a special and hidden folder she had created just for you. This folder contained not just your nudes but plenty of other stuff — from intimate pictures you'd send her to videos she'd take while fucking you. She would go through the folder occasionally for personal use (iykwim).

✩ Your girlfriend was quick to pick up on something odd going on. She'd notice how you would turn your phone upside down, making sure the screen was facing whatever surface to make sure she wouldn't see your ex-girlfriend spamming your phone with texts (she would do it on purpose, by the way). That's how she knew something was up, but for some odd reason, she brushed it off.

✩ She was fed up with your stupid girlfriend constantly in the way. Why weren't you breaking up with her already? She couldn't understand; she was trying to be the best version of herself for you, yet you were still not hers. She tried everything to get you caught, like texting you while your girlfriend was around, sending you risky snaps, calling you...but nothing seemed to be working. So, she decided to hurry things up by texting your girlfriend and sending her some evidence.

She selected a video from her gallery to send to your girlfriend, writing a text message to go along with it before hitting the 'send' button "is this ur girl?" In the video, she was strapping you from behind, and you were telling her exactly what she needed to hear, "Better than your stupid girlfriend, yeah?" "Y-yes. Oooh fuckk. nhhmmm...faster, please" "Can she fuck you like this, hmm?" "No one can fuck me like y-you do...pleaseplease faster"

✩ Your girlfriend felt hurt and betrayed after realizing that you were using her to make your ex jealous, and she ended things between you two. You didn't seem to be affected by the breakup significantly, as if you had been expecting it all along. Honestly, it was almost as if the relationship never existed to you.

✩ Despite feeling indifferent towards your recent breakup, you were furious that Ellie had been the one who caused the end of your relationship. Who was she to control your life in such a way? Well, she couldn't give a fuck, to be quite honest. Seeing you with other girls consumed her from the inside. Nevertheless, she did not break up with Dina.

✩ But of course, you couldn't just let it slide. You already had a plan.

You were at Ellie's place, your back pressed onto her messy blankets, your leg on top of her shoulder as she held the other one firm, adjusting herself on top of you, to be more precise... on your pussy; grinding her wet pussy against your dripping cunt as filthy wet sounds and whimpers echoed in the room. Her hips moved in a slow motion, her green forest eyes fixated on yours. You reached to her nightstand to grab her phone, "Can I...nghhm... record us, baby?" you managed to utter between soft moans as she rode you, her movements became more desperate, chasing her own orgasm. "Record how good m'fuckin' this pussy?" her voice was husky, her breath ragged. Her head rolled back as she continued to grind against you, moaning at the friction, and her eyes fluttered shut. You unlocked her phone and quickly went through her contacts, pressing on Dina's name to start the call. Although the plan seemed foolish and overused, it worked out perfectly.

Dina appeared at Ellie's doorstep in no time to shout at her while you listened from her bedroom. You were amused by the drama that was unfolding before you. It was entertaining to watch Ellie deny the evidence. Dina's voice rose higher and higher as she accused her of sleeping with her ex. When Dina stormed out of the apartment and slammed the front door behind her, you emerged from your hiding spot and leaned against the doorframe, gazing at her with a mischievous grin on your face. Your arms were crossed over your chest as you watched her, waiting to see her reaction. When she turned to look at you, her face etched with confusion and surprise. You shrugged nonchalantly and said, "My finger slipped," with a lopsided smile.

She snorted and shook her head, but you could see the amusement in her expression, "Such a bitch," she said, though you could tell she was trying to suppress a smile. For some reason, she couldn't help but find it funny, she knew she deserved it.

✩ She gradually made her way back into your life, taking slow but steady steps to regain your trust and affection. And before you knew it, she asked you to be her girlfriend again. You hesitated at first but eventually gave in to the strong feelings you still had for her. The first few months of your second chance together seemed to be going smoothly, or so you thought. Then, one day, out of the blue, she broke up with you, claiming that she needed a break from the relationship.

✩ Your heart was shattered into countless pieces, struggling to comprehend where it had all gone wrong. And to make things worse, it seemed like you were the only one suffering, while she appeared to be completely fine, almost as if she were unbothered by the whole situation. You had poured your heart out, begging her to give your relationship another try, but she seemed to be holding back, almost...distant.

✩ But that didn't stop you; you were determined to win her back. You tried everything in your power to get her to love you again, just like she used to do when she wanted to win you back. You started showing up at her place unannounced, always with little surprises for her: her favorite snacks, flowers, handmade stuff, and love letters. But unfortunately, all your efforts seemed to be in vain. The more you tried, the more she pushed you away. You couldn't tell how she had switched so fast and went from doing anything to get back with you to this. 

✩ When you asked her for an explanation, she said she felt emotionally unavailable. She went on to say that she wasn't sure if she still loved you and that she needed a break. You could see the hurt in her eyes and feel the weight of her words as they slowly sank in. It was a devastating blow that left you feeling utterly destroyed. The pain you felt was almost too much to bear.

✩ She promised to come back to you once she felt better. Months passed, and she didn't return. You were left feeling lost and heartbroken, struggling to cope with the pain of the breakup. To move on, you tried to distract yourself with other things, keeping yourself busy with work, hobbies, and spending time with friends. As time went on, you slowly began to heal and accept that it was over. When she unexpectedly came back, you were already over her.

"im ready to give us another try" "Ellie, it's been a fucking year." "and?"

[luveline]

I love bombshell!reader omg they’re so cutie. Im in an angst mood so imagine reader finally being hit emotionally hard on a case and asking spencer to stay with her in the hotel?? The rest of the team tries so hard to help but only Spencer can help her omg 🥹

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Morgan has an arm around you. It's the first thing Spencer notices, and he thinks, Thank fuck. Thank fuck someone's holding you together. And then he thinks, Maybe I should be that someone. 

He's never seen you shaking that hard. Your usual easy air, not unlike Penelope's, has shrunk to nought. There's no flirty smile sent his way as he approaches, no dramatic throw of Moran's arm. I'd never cheat on my baby, you'd say, though you and Spencer aren't really dating. 

"You okay?" he asks. 

Spencer feels powerless in the face of your despair. You're obviously not fine. Kids always hit you the worst, and so many? Your reaction is warranted if uncharacteristic. 

You don't answer him. Morgan squeezes your arm and stands with a kiss to the top of your head. "I'll leave you in the best hands," he says in way of farewell. 

Spencer sits in the space Morgan vacates, hand behind your shoulder, his fingers curling between your side and your upper arm. You've had blood wiped out of your eyes haphazard, crusting of crimson on your lashes like a morbid mascara. He feels like crying for you. 

"Hey," he says, giving your back a slow, heavy handed rub, "Sorry I wasn't here." 

"That's okay." Your voice is all shudders like a trapped moth. "I'm okay." 

He steers your face to his with a cautious hand to look at you properly. With want of a better method, he takes your untouched water bottle and holds it to his sleeve, pulling it over his fingers while the fabric is still saturated to wipe away the missed blood.

You follow his touch, eyes closing with a quick, pained sigh. Like he's pricked you with a knifepoint.

"I know you think you have to be perfect," Spencer says, sleeve turning a dirty orange, "but this is enough to affect anybody." 

"I am perfect," you say quietly. It falls flat. 

Spencer cups both sides of your face. Your eyes flutter open at the feeling. "You're perfect. And a perfect person would handle this badly." 

His hands look rigid compared to the soft slopes of your cheeks, but they're gentle. 

Tears like silver line your eyes. You wear grief like everything else until suddenly you don't, a crack, a sniffle and you're turning your face into one of his hands desperately. Spencer knows what you need before you're moving, pulling you into his chest with a hand braced behind your neck. 

"It's okay," he says, hoping that if he says it with enough conviction it'll be true. "It's not your fault. There was nothing else we could do."

You shake your head from side to side against his shoulder. "I should've been quicker. I knew what was going to happen, I knew. And I couldn't do anything about it, I couldn't–" Your sob is pulled from you on a hook, hard and sudden enough to end in a wheeze.

Spencer doesn't know what else to do but hug you and hope it calms you down. He's not used to being the most composed of the two of you, a disconnect between the salacious woman who hounds him relentlessly and the one who's falling apart in the circle of his arms. 

You shake. Spencer rubs your back, shielding you from the cold weather until Hotch shouts for the BAU to fall in and get ready to leave. 

"Will you stay with me?" you ask, pulling away from his chest reluctantly. "I don't want to be alone. The hotel's too…" 

Spencer frowns, eyes closed, his face crushed to the side of your head. "Of course I will." 

He knows what you were going to say. It's too quiet after all of tonight's noise. And alone, blaming yourself, he knows you'll scare yourself. Tear yourself to pieces. So Spencer sticks to you like glue from the SUV to the hotel to the jet the next morning. He'd do anything you asked him to do no matter how hard. 

When you're ready, you'll fall back into your flirtatious routines. For now, Spencer takes your twitching hands under the table and holds them.

[bogbutteronmycroissant]

Some days, I can't help but to pity Gale. I know his position in the fandom is well established as the prim reaper, but gale song by the lumineers altered by brain chemistry and I've been obsessing over him. Gale is as much as a tragedy as Katniss and Haymitch. Imagine being a child and having to take care of other younger more scared children bcs your father died, and the only way to do so was by worsening your chances at the already unjust tesserae system. Imagine watching your only friend, the girl you think you love, be sent to her almost certain death, and the only thing you can do is feed her family while already struggling to feed yours. Imagine watching that same girl return, but it's no longer her and it never will be bcs she saw and experienced horrors beyond your imagination. You will never get her back. And you try, you really try, but maybe not in the right way. You will never truly understand. Imagine starting to work in the mines, the same mines that killed your father, because it's the only way to sustain your family now. The same forests that made you feel alive are too dangerous now. Also, you WILL be wiped to almost death, and you can't even be angry bcs a wave of repression is going through your town: the peacekeepers are more violent, the pay from the mines is minimal, the food is starting to scarce, and your own little brother is starting to follow your steps and take tesserae. Imagine watching the girl you already lost because of the games be sent back, with even less chances to survive, and again, there's nothing you can do. Imagine having your district bombed, your home destroyed, your people killed. You manage to save 900, you managed to save Katniss's family, but the rest? They are lost. You couldn't save them. In response, you work your ass for three days to somehow feed those 900 people in the woods until a beacon of hope appears and you are rescued. Imagine that, finally, after being powerless, angry, hurt, and watching the genocide of your people, you finally have a chance to strike back. Or at least you think so. To what extent are you being manipulated by Coin? At the end of the day, you don't care, you finally can do something. So you design the bombs. And that costs you everything. Your bombs, though you will never be a hundred percent sure, killed the little girl you swore to protect and fought to save for so long. The bombs took your home, and now they take your best friend too, because Katniss will never see you the same way again. You finally and irremediably lost her. And it's your own fault. Everything that came before can be blamed on the capitol, on your father's death, on your poverty, on the world that you lived in. But when you finally had the power of choice to change your live? You picked the wrong option. But you're just a kid. A kid that has been angry, lost, hurt, and thrust with so many responsibilities since the day your father died. All you've ever known is violence and hate. The only person beyond your family that you trust and love and care for leaves you, and you can't even blame her because it's your own fault, and, to be honest, she IS better without you. You never had a chance, did you? You tried to be a savior, but you aren't, are you? Someone always gets hurt. You always fail someone, either Katniss, Prim, yourself, or the hundreds of people you didn't save. Maybe that's why you leave behind everything and settle in district 2. Maybe there the ghosts of district 12 won't haunt you as loudly.

[ordinary-barbie]

sexy to someone - porco galliard x reader

summary: After scrolling social media you're feeling particularly insecure about your looks. Your boyfriend, Porco, is determined to convince you that you really are pretty.

word count: 2.3k words

tags: fem!reader, pet names (babe and baby), reader has a tooth gap bc I'm nothing if not self-indulgent, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, vaginal fingering, doggy style, breast play, praise kink, consent checks, reader is self-conscious about her body and struggles with mental health issues

minors and ageless blogs dni.

title comes from the song "sexy to someone" by Clairo.

Normally you loved scrolling through social media, but you just couldn't do it today. If you saw one more vacation photo or one more bachelorette party with someone's former sorority sisters, the already deep pit in your chest would cave in. And it wasn't anyone's fault: you couldn't get mad at your friends or random influencers and celebs for simply posting about their lives. To put it delicately, you were just feeling like a steaming pile of garbage compared to everyone else on your Instagram feed.

Today you hated pretty much everything about your looks. Your tooth gap looked like an eyesore. Your eyes seemed dull and sleepy. Your nose? Meh. Your figure? Nothing to write home about. It was a wonder that anyone liked your Instagram photos at all, and especially unbelievable that you managed to snag a boyfriend, especially someone like Porco Galliard.

Porco was an absolute babe. You'd never been hugely into blondes, but something about him and his undercut had got your heart racing when you met him at a frat party that your bestie Pieck, a Delta Zeta, had invited you to. You were always pretty reserved, and especially nervous to be around a bunch of frat dudes. Luckily, Porco eased your nerves by making you laugh, and the rest was history.

He was funny, confident, and hot as hell, while you were more reserved. When you'd first gotten together, you felt like the nerdy female protagonist in an 80s teen movie who managed to land the most popular guy in school. That had subsided after five years of dating, but now you couldn't help but feel the insecurity clawing at your brain again. Porco could easily get any woman he wanted - why you, of all people? Was he simply settling until someone better came along?

You rolled over onto your stomach and buried your face into one of the couch's armrests, quietly sobbing. Why were you like this? Why couldn't you be hotter so you could look like someone who actually belonged with Porco? Porco shouldn't be with someone like you. There were plenty of cute sorority girls he could've gone after in college, including Pieck or your other friend Sasha.

You recognized (thanks to months of therapy) that you were in a thought spiral, but you felt powerless to stop it. Normally you would go on your phone to distract yourself, but since social media had triggered your insecurities, you decided to settle for a nice little depression nap. That ought to make you feel better, right?

-

When you woke up, you didn't feel as crushingly awful as you did before, but you were still in a bit of a shitty mood. You snuggled tightly in your blanket and stared up at the ceiling, not even moving when Porco came home from work.

"Hey babe, I'm home! Traffic was nuts today - that podcast you recommended to me honestly saved my ass from dying of boredom," Porco joked, kicking his shoes off and making his way into the kitchen.

When you turned your head towards Porco but didn't react, his cheery expression morphed into worry. "Baby, what's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"It's nothing, don't worry," you hurriedly assured him, not wanting to be a burden, especially since he'd had a long day at work.

Unfortunately, Porco was a stubborn motherfucker, so he kept prying. "Come on, don't do that thing where you try to sweep shit under the rug. I can tell something's bothering you. You know you can tell me anything."

You sat up, protectively wrapping your arms around your midsection and chewing at your bottom lip. "I just - why are you with me, Porco?" you asked, your voice wavering. "I mean, look at you. You could be with anyone you wanted and you settled for me."

Porco furrowed his brow. "Baby, where is this coming from? I picked you because you're funny and kind and fuckin' hot."

You snorted. You appreciated Porco complimenting you in his Porco way, but you weren't totally buying what he was selling. "Please, Porco. Gigi Hadid is fuckin' hot. Pieck is fuckin' hot. I'm just..." You gestured to yourself vaguely, making a face.

Porco scoffed, shaking his head. "First of all, Pieck is like a sister to me, so don't even go there. Second of all, yeah, Gigi Hadid is pretty, but she's not you. You're actually the hottest woman I know. I honestly feel like I outkicked my coverage here."

"Porco, stop acting like I'm some big prize," you insisted. "Especially when I scroll through social media and every woman I follow is pretty much a smokeshow, including my friends."

Porco said your name sternly, making you jump. "Is that where this is coming from? Babe, please don't compare yourself to Instagram. You know everyone curates their feed to only share the good shit, even the celebs."

"I know, but that doesn't change the fact that there's so many gorgeous girls out there, and I'm just...me," you responded, staring down at your lap.

"Hey! Look at me," Porco commanded, and you reluctantly met his gaze. "You are so desirable to me. I love you. And I wish I could fight your shitty brain for making you ever think otherwise."

You sighed. "Porco, I love you. I just wish I could see the person you see. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror earlier and just felt ugly. I hate that I can't just make these thoughts go away."

Porco moved closer to you, kissing both of your cheeks. "Babe, you are a fuckin smokeshow to me. Please let me prove it to you..."

"And just how do you plan to do that?" you asked, arching an eyebrow. You tried to look impassive but you couldn't help but rub your thighs together in anticipation.

"Like this," Porco simply replied, ghosting over your lips with his own. You shuddered, still amazed at how turned on Porco could make you without touching you. "But first - are you sure you want this? And you remember our safe word, right? Just say 'red' and I will stop, no matter what."

You nodded. Porco frowned. "Use your words, baby."

"Yes, I want this. Please touch me, Porco," you whined impatiently, your mind now clouded with lust.

"I mean damn, if you insist, babe," Porco joked before kissing you deeply. He draped his body over yours on the couch, suddenly enveloping you with the smell of his favorite cologne. It was heavenly.

Since your mouth was occupied, you tapped Porco's shoulder, and he instantly ceased his movements. "Everything good, babe?" he worriedly asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just - could we move it to the bedroom, please?" you shyly asked.

Porco smirked. "Okay, dirty girl," he teased, leading you by the hand into your bedroom. Once inside, he slammed the door with his foot, deeply making out with you and letting his hands roam all over your body. You made a motion to take your bra off but Porco stopped you in your tracks.

"Please let me do it, baby," Porco begged, and you happily obliged. After tossing your bra to the other side of the room, Porco shoved his hands under your shirt, massaging your breasts. "Man, I'll never get tired of these tits. They feel so good in my hands."

Porco bit at your bottom lip, and you let out a moan. Porco was driving you wild right now. "That's my good girl," he praised, and those four little words sent a shockwave straight to your core. "I love it when you moan so prettily for me. Now take those clothes off, baby."

That lit a fire under you. You quickly rid yourself of your t-shirt (really one of Porco's, a vintage shirt from the university you both went to) and sweatpants, standing nakedly in front of Porco except for a simple pair of black undies.

Porco let out a breath. "Oh fuck, baby. You're so goddamn sexy." You shyly smiled at him. "Now take a seat for me; I need to taste you."

You sat down at the end of the bed, gazing at Porco as he kneeled in front of you. The fact that he was still dressed in his light blue button-down, navy tie, and khaki slacks from work made this even hotter, somehow. Porco pushed your panties to the side, moaning when he saw gossamer strings of your slick clinging to the fabric.

Porco dove in, lapping at your clit with his tongue and grunting as you arched your back in pleasure. "Can't believe you think I'd want anyone else when I have the sweetest pussy right here. You taste so fuckin good, baby."

Your mind was blank, devoid of any coherent thoughts except for how fucking amazing your boyfriend was with his tongue. You were in the throes of ecstasy, grabbing at his hair to push his face even closer to you.

Porco removed his lips from your clit, eliciting a whine from you. "Easy there, baby," he said, chuckling. "I'm gonna eat you out; I just wanna finger fuck you too. Is that okay?"

Aroused, you reached for his hand, but Porco tutted, shaking his head at you. "Use your words, babe," he reminded you.

"Porco I need your fingers inside me," you whined. "Need your mouth and your fingers in my pussy."

Porco smirked, a dark glint in his eye. "Can't possibly deny you when you ask me so nicely." He returned to sucking on your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of your opening. "Babe, I can't believe you're so wet for me. I could fuckin drown in your pretty little cunt."

You gasped, feeling a warmth in your belly. You felt like you were about to burst, and Porco could sense it too. "Come for me, baby," Porco encouraged you, fingering your clit. "Make a fuckin' mess on my face."

Before you knew it, you were cumming, coating Porco's face with your wetness. Porco wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, moaning happily as he licked his fingers.

"Let me return the favor," you offered, your gaze focused on the way Porco's erection strained in his pants.

"Nah, not this time," Porco refused. "This is all about you, baby."

You softened you gaze, beaming at your boyfriend. You truly did adore this man.

"Be a good girl, lose the panties, and lie on your stomach," Porco instructed as he unbuckled his belt. "Get that pretty ass of yours in the air for me."

You quickly obeyed, tossing your underwear onto the floor and lying face down on the bed, sticking your ass in the air. Porco hummed appreciatively, rubbing your butt cheeks in his hand and lightly biting at the skin before soothing the pain with his kisses. "Can't believe this amazing ass is all mine."

He got up from the floor, retrieving a condom from his bedside table to slide over his dick. You scooched farther up on the bed to give him more room, and the two of you moaned in unison as Porco pushed himself into your entrance. Porco had an average-sized cock, but what he lacked in length, he more than made up for in girth.

Porco growled as your cunt clenched around his length. "Fuckin love the way your pussy feels around me. So warm and so damn tight."

Porco pulled out of you and slammed back in, making you see stars. He pumped in and out, snapping his hips and muttering praises in your ears the entire time. You tightly gripped the sheets, feeling your body light up in pleasure every time the tip of his dick grazed that special spot that made your toes curl.

"Are you close?" Porco asked as you writhed under him. You hummed affirmatively, unable to form words anymore. "Me too. Play with your clit for me, baby. Let's cum together."

You rubbed at your clit, feeling a second orgasm about to wash over you. You came with a yelp, feeling Porco's cock spasm inside you as he spilled his seed into the condom, moaning your name. He tossed the used condom in the wastebasket next to his bedside table, and then two of you laid in bed for a few minutes, drenched in sweat and panting heavily.

"Porco...thank you. I needed that," you admitted, lovingly squeezing Porco's hand.

Porco tenderly looked at you, softly pecking your lips. "Of course, baby. You know I always want to make you feel good. And I hope me blowing your back out is proof that I actually think you're hot."

Your mouth dropped open. "Porco Galliard!" you shouted, playfully hitting him in the shoulder.

Porco snickered, but his face soon softened. "Seriously though, I'm glad I could give you what you needed. You know I love you so much, even on your bad-brain days."

You felt a warmth in your chest. Porco could be cocky, sarcastic, and crass, but he had the biggest heart. You were overwhelmed with love for this man who had been by your side through years of highs and lows, who always encouraged you and looked at you like you hung the moon in the sky.

"I love you so much, baby," you said, nuzzling into Porco's chest. He kissed the top of your head and tightened his grip around you.

"Hey babe?" you asked after a few minutes, wiggling a little in Porco's grip.

Porco cocked an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're ready for round two already. I mean I'm down, but let a man take a shower first."

You good-naturedly rolled your eyes at him. "No, you dingus, I just have to pee."

"And they say romance is dead," Porco quipped, loosening his grip so you could get up and use the bathroom.

"Okay, mister drama king," you playfully replied. "Cut the sass and maybe I'll help you get cleaned up." You waggled your ass at him before disappearing into the bathroom.

Porco grinned, fondly gazing at you even while you were on the toilet. "You're incredible, you know that? I can't want to marry your ass someday."

You chuckled. Just Porco, being Porco - and you loved him for it.

[citrusbusiness]

Oookay I said I had more thoughts about today's page and I'm here to deliver

Am I projecting too hard? I don't know!

"i could've been patient but I wasn't, so now I don't have the right to indulge in patience. I got us into this mess."

Anyways I think this page kind of ties into the stuff Erin talked about on the boat. "I have to everything alone because no one can match me." And that means that he has to be responsible for everything that goes wrong, because he is smarter and more powerful than everyone else, enough to affect everything. He's responsible for the boat getting lost, he's responsible for his channels not sealing, he's responsible for how Tess was treated and holding her back. In Erin's mind, everything is his fault, because since he's more capable, he's more responsible for what happens.

That also means that he has to deal with all the consequences of everything that goes wrong. He (in theory, according to him) had the power to stop it, so he has to take the fall for it happening. That's why he doesn't have the right to be patient. He doesn't deserve to be patient. He has to solve the problem now, because he could've stopped it somehow and he didn't.

Specifically though, when I read this, I focused on how he said he "doesn't have the right." And it's also important to note that while he says "patience," he's really talking about resting. He's saying he doesn't deserve to recover, because there's problems he has to solve first. And that combined psychology of "everything is my problem and I don't deserve good things until I fix the entire world" is so very "high-achieving" of him.

Psychologically, Erin feels like a gifted kid. I suspect that he's been respected and praised for his power for a while, and his intelligence for even longer. That is, I think, part of why he is the way he is. He's smarter and more powerful and he can solve any problem, everyone tells him so, so he's amazing and better than everyone.

If you get told you're good at something a lot, it's quite easy to turn "good at the thing" into "good for the thing," and suddenly your self worth is attached to how good you are at the thing. Instead of a talent, it's a reason to be respected, or even liked.

Easy conclusion for Erin: the reason I am worthy of respect and attention is that I can solve problems that other people can't.

However, that also means that because he can, he is obligated to solve any and every problem. If everything is both his problem and something he can fix, then there's something wrong with him if he doesn't try to fix it. He has, again, an obligation to. He has the power or the privilege to fix this problem, so if he doesn't, he's a horrible person. Even if fixing the problem is detrimental to his own health.

Because if he doesn't fix it, then what is he good for?

If he doesn't fix it, how can he live up to the standards everyone (including himself) has set for him?

Why does he deserve the right to rest, if resting means he's not fixing what he's obligated to fix?

(for a guy who went on a rant about the importance of getting good sleep, he certainly seems capable of denying himself rest)

Uhh yeah. That's mostly it but I have a few more tangential thoughts.

I've noticed that the way Erin describes his younger self changes a bit. In the caves when VD is in his head, he says "I was a child! I was powerless!" But on this page, he says he wasn't powerless, because he could think. Now, the scenarios he's referencing are different, but he uses the same word: power.

This is interesting because I've been trying to figure out how Erin views his younger self. The first mention feels resentful, but the reference today has the confidence we expect from an Erin Ruunaser moment. He's slightly dismissive ("he figured out how to turn himself into me," translation: I'm better than him), but still recognizes his own intelligence and makes a reference to living up to his younger self's standards.

It seems to me like he doesn't like most things about his younger self, but a few parts are okay. He doesn't like that he couldn't do anything for Tess, he doesn't like that he was "holding her back," he doesn't like that he was bedridden and had to be cared for. However, he does like that he was smart.

Notably, that's about the only one of those things that is still true about him today.

[midnight-bay-if]

also an angsty-ish ask if i may (crushing stage)

ROs' reactions/thoughts to overhearing Mc and friend talking, said friend is teasing Mc about them and RO, and Mc blurts out "There's nothing between us!", then, after a brief pause, in the saddest tone they ever heard from Mc, "Besides, RO deserves someone far better than I could ever be..."

S: They think it's ludicrous. How can it be possible you don't recognise how exceptionally wonderful you are? If anyone in this situationship is falling short, it's them. They fall short in a million different ways, but they've put the best foot forward because you're the kind of person who inspires.

Well, they can't let this misconception continue. They would much rather lay the cards out straight and lose than have never taken the risk.

They reveal themselves carefully, leaning against the door frame with a charming smile. "Forgive the intrusion, but I couldn't quite help but overhear..." Still smiling, they close the distance until they are close enough to grasp your hand in theirs, holding it up delicately to their lips as they press a chaste kiss to the palm of your hand. "It would seem I haven't been clear enough in my affections if there is still room to doubt whether there is anything going on between us. I will endeavour to correct this grievous error immediately. Dinner tonight?"

Rain: That last sentence hits Rain like a punch to the gut. It seems incomprehensible to them that you could ever believe you were anything less than perfect to them. But it comes down to this. You do feel that way, and that means Rain hasn't done enough to express everything about you they find so endearing.

This cannot continue.

Rain begins with a plan. Everything they have learned about you thus far is brought into action as they co-ordinate the perfect date. Do you have a favourite flower? Great, have a bouquet of them. Do you have a favourite meal? S will help Rain cook it. Or if you have a favourite spot, great, expect a romantic walk to it. Enjoy poetry? Well, Rain is awful at writing it, but they would give it a go for you.

They'll figure out a million ways to show you their feelings if that's what it takes.

Taj: Taj's ear twitches when they overhear that final sentence. They feel the underbelly of frustration beginning to bubble under the surface. How is it fair you get to decide on your own who is good enough for who? And what made you decide that?

Wait... is this their fault? Could their sharp edges have been catching after all? You never showed it on your face. Sometimes, Taj would even dig deeper with their cutting tongue simply to see you flinch. But you never did. Had you been bleeding this entire time?

Taj inhales sharply, digging their nails deep into their palms in a clenched fist. If they were braver, they would storm right into that room and tear up those self-flagellating thoughts of yours. But they aren't. They never have been.

N: It feels strange to N, to hear the words they have already long suspected to be true. Not the part about 'nothing going on between us' since they know that much is rubbish, but the latter part... Well, the lack of belief in oneself can manifest in all kinds of ways but sits so readily in a person's body language.

It is true N is a demon prince of Hael. Before their power was so egregiously ripped from them, they were a prized jewel often paraded amongst important individuals like a prized buck for breeding. Everyone wanted a piece, and they languished in the attention.

Yet, powerless and bruised, you coveted their attention still. The lack of power did not matter to you. Back home, N would be ridiculed for seeking affection from a mere human. But, inexplicably, they do seek it. It is them who are underserving of you.

Better they remember why they came here in the first place.

Umbra: They cannot abide this. They flinched when you said nothing was going on between the two of you. For a moment, Umbra was sure someone had slipped the sharp edge of a blade right between their ribs. It hurt.

Then, you continued, and the blade twisted. It doesn't compute. Theirs are hands that have wrought destruction and death, but it is you who thinks they are not enough? This has to be their failure. If they were more human, more alive, then they would know exactly how to assuage your concerns, to prove their devotion to you.

It isn't enough to be by your side anymore. They would rather fall at your feet begging for mercy as you dig your heel in than have you believe that you aren't enough.

(Phew, hope this is okay! Sorry, it took a minute.)

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Monster

Heian period!Sukuna x fem!Reader

warnings: heavy angst, blood, gore, misogynistic thinking

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

You would do anything.

You're begging, crying, pleading, doing everything in your power to showcase your genuine obedience, to prove yourself to be a truly spineless bundle of nerves, cowering at his feet. Hoping and praying he will relent that he isn't such a grotesque monster, that he just isn't a hollow black hole consuming everything only to spit it out foul and rotten.

But he is. And you know that he is.

That's why your begging wasn't enough, nothing was, nor ever would be enough for him, because human emotions were fickle, to be played and abused to his own enjoyment.

So he did what he did best, being a monster.

Flicking his wrist he sealed the fate of the only thing dear to you, ripping it all away from you in just one nanosecond.

He didn't even allow screams to ripple from her throat, as he slashed her fragile body in half, letting crimson paint your lap, soaking your nightgown in this ugly despicable red that painted you like a warning.

A warning.

That was what this was.

He had ended the life of the crying and screaming little bundle of joy, so oblivious to everything, innocent with big pooling eyes that could have reflected the stars, as a warning.

Sukuna had ended your daughter's life to prove a point.

To warn you to bear him a boy or your limps were the next to be snapped in half, with your gaze as bleary as hers.

Silence engulfed you, a painful agonizing one.

The room already reeked of blood—of that metallic note, and sweat, because just hours prior, you were in the process of pushing her out of your womb, eager to already welcome your little darling into the world, you were too blinded by your own eagerness to embrace her, that you failed to see the truth.

He didn't even allow her to suckle on your breast, to taste her first meal out of the safe heaven that was your belly, to gaze upon you with heavy eyelids and sticky lashes, all weary and exhausted, coming to find rest against your soothing heartbeat.

Her skin was still an odd colour, bright and vivid, with her head shaped like a cone, alien-like and yet so familiar, he hadn't even allowed her to adjust to her new life, hadn't allowed her anything.

He robbed your daughter of everything there could be to be robbed of, her first taste of milk, of water, of food, her first word, first time walking, first time feeling the sun graze her features, first time making friends, first love, first heartbreak, first time experiencing a relationship, marriage, perhaps even her first time of being a mother herself— and all you could do was only cower and mourn, fat tears running down your face, sweat-covered, cradling what remained of her.

Sukuna had robbed her, he robbed her and you had been powerless to go against him.

What a fool you had been to be excited, to feel joy, fantasizing about being a happy family, blissfully ignorant about the fact that he was a lunatic.

You had failed her.

All you could do was regret ever allowing her to escape the safety of your womb. You should have kept her inside, safe, away from the monster hovering above you, his sheer size casting a shadow on the little heap of misery you were on the floor.

“That will teach you.” Sukuna exclaimed, as if it was your fault and he was in the right. Well truth be told it was, it was your fault for lying to yourself that he wouldn't be cruel to you, or to his own flesh and blood. It was your fault for ever seeing him as a man instead of the abomination he was, it was your fault.

“We will try again. This time I know you won't disappoint me.” he uttered, so devoid of remorse, of any ounce of guilt, as if he had a clean conscious. All you felt emitting from him was endless coldness, an icy flood threatening to drown you beneath its strength. He had swallowed you whole, and allowed you to wallow in an illusion, all up until this point, he took off the mask off—only he never wore a façade, you were just too blinded by your own delusions to take notice of his true nature.

He didn't even spare you another glance, neither caring for the limp body of his daughter in your arms, her body sliced clean in two— nor the state you were in, exhausted, tired and just having witnessed something so soul-crushing, fom which you knew you could never recover from.

He just didn't care, you were only a body, a means to an end, another piece of meat that would grant him his wish for a male heir—and if you didn't he would just discard of you like you were nothing but a lamb to be slaughtered.

So it wasn't unsurprising, nevertheless did it only plunge the knife deeper and twist it as he spun on his sole, turning away, leaving you there all by yourself, letting maids rush in through the door, causing the world around you to halt and fall into an inescapable endless silence as your gaze focused solely on him.

They were all fussing over you, one more worried than the other but all you could do was blankly stare at his back that was becoming smaller and smaller as he further moved away, descended away from the crime he just committed, only if it was the King of Curses, it wasn't a crime, but god-given and to be accepted, it was the truth he would force down everybody's throats.

And in that exact moment that's when you felt it for the first time.

Such a raging fire clawing up your insides, squeezing your heart, that you might have recoiled from the intensity in any other situation, but not in this moment, no. You embraced the flames, let the thirst for revenge, for vengeance, swallow you whole and hopefully when you burned enough, it would spit you out as a changed woman, ready to gift Sukuna his heir he desired so dearly, only to meet death in the hands of his own flesh and blood.

Because you would do anything for your little bundle of joy.

You would do anything.

[thegoldencontracts]

Armchair Activism

Summary: You, Azul's partner, have always been a serene, patient one.

...Except for when you start waxing poetic about the faults of modern society.

A/N: My first twst fic in a whileeee whoo! ik this'll probably be buried but uhh really happy to be able to write for something I've like so much! Even if it is just a silly little thing inspired by this post I made

Azul always did view you as a peculiar sort. The Ramshackle Perfect, magicless and powerless, yet there was something about you that, corny as it sounded, worked its own sort of magic. You only gently smiled when meted with even the most cruel of insults.

And when you saw him, after his overblot, you frowned.

"I am sorry it had to end like this," you said. "I really did wish we could have settled things more peacefully."

He had scoffed. That wasn't the way victors spoke to those they had triumphed over.

"Leave me to simmer in my loss," he said.

"But that would not be right for me to do," you replied easily.

And indeed, you were nothing if not true to your word. You stuck by him like a thorn to a rose, asking him how he was doing, telling him you'd be there if he needed anything, oh insufferably insisting that you understood he had a difficult time eating, but you'd always be there if he wanted to try-

Yet against his better judgement, he found himself warming up to you. To you and your sickly sweet smile, to the Vanilla scent of your signature perfume, to your steadfast composure.

You were the one who confessed, a fact he really shouldn't have been surprised by. You smiled, stuttering a tad as you asked him whether he would be interested in a romantic relationship. So forthright you were that he'd been rendered unbearably unable to speak! Tch, you always had that effect on him, damn you.

But you were a good partner. Wonderful. In fact, sometimes he feared he wasn't properly paying you back, to which you only reassured him that relationships were never a transaction.

Tch. Of course they were!

You always seemed to disagree with everything he said about business. It was the two of you's biggest argument.

And one day, you asked him—"Why do you work so much?"

To which he replied, "Because there are many things to be done."

"Your dorm work was finished days ago. You won't get more for a month. As for your studies, you yourself can tell just how far ahead of your peers you are."

He sucked in a breath. Were you really starting this again?

"We're not doing this," he said. You frowned pensively.

"I am only concerned."

"You don't have to be. I'm entirely fine."

"Your eyes have bags beneath them, love," you said, and he flushed at the nickname. "Can you really blame me for being concerned?"

Yes, he could. Because you knew what happened when you brought this up.

"I must always stay competitive."

You pursed your lip. That was never a good sign. It was that tic of yours that indicated you were about to say something befuddling.

"I don't like it when you say things like that," you said, continuing before he could retort. "It makes me worry for you."

You continued when he paused.

"The world within which we live is often unkind," you said. "It is not unlike my own. Those who do not meet the standards of society-"

"You're attributing this to society."

"Yes."

"As in, the entirety of society."

"That encourages perfection and shuns the rest, leading those with the wealth and power to view the rest as tools to be discarded when not efficient enough," you replied. You, so serene, so calm, so passionate all of a sudden-

And about the faults of modern society. Really now.

"I believe the way you think is exactly what those in power want," you continued. "Furiously chasing up an endless ladder, but still only a servant."

"...What are you talking about?"

"I simply believe you should stop slaving away for crumbs, darling," you said, again with the petname, even as you said ridiculous things. "If, perhaps, my company tires you, go talk to your friends."

"Business partners." Why did you call those two his friends?

"A sad product of the suppression of friendship between young boys in the modern era," you soapboxed. He considered socking you in the face. "To be sincere with friends is considered 'foolish'. Sentiment is 'illogical'."

...

"I believe that this society has-"

"You know what?" he said., throwing his hands up in the air. "You win, you sevens-damned hippie! I'm taking a break!"

You brightened, clapping your hand happily.

"Wonderful! I'll get us lunch," you said, tone leaving no room for protest. He could only sigh as you left.

SInce when was he dating a hippie?

[weebsinstash]

girllllllll no way am I logging on to tumblr dot com and you're being horny for the fucking wizard from the wizard of oz

AND I'LL FUCKING DO IT AGAIN, HAPPY NEW YEAR'S EVERYBODY

I mean, i guess spoilers if you want to see the movie, but you know the scene where Elphaba confronts the Wizard, "you have no real power!" and he just, very readily, easily, quickly, "exactly, that's why I need you". Why is there something so sexy about how he said that to me. It's like, he's being manipulative, coaxing in the way he's also not even denying the accusation and also immediately using it as a pivot to beckon for her aid. He's just a small man trying to keep everything up and running and he's jumping at the chance to have such powerful magical help to the point he'll let her be rude and openly hostile to him and still turn around and praise her

hes just this, weird combination of suave seductive piano playing adulterer who can tapdance and, he's also just, kind of awkward too? He can be your silly little birthday boy AND your fascist dictator?

I like the idea of a Sorceror Reader and the Wizard BUT, but, a Reader who is also from the same Earth as him is ALSO extremely tempting because, then you're ALSO this powerless normal human who is suddenly thrust into this, splendiferous world and not only will the Wizard be your only connection to your home, the only person who totslly understands your current situation and the only confidant you can vent about missing home to, but, you'll also be forced by your very situation to be a part of his charade. You'll be forced to take part in grand spectacles with all kinds of fireworks and fanfare and specialized machines, and your new "friendly" Wizard pal will coach you on giving all kinds of fanciful speeches to tell everyone exactly what they want to hear, because, what else are you going to do? Directly cause the collapse of an entire nation? Potential starvation, unemployment, housing crisis, complete civil upheaval?

You wind up loving and hating him because, he's basically the source of all of your pain, but it's also not his fault you're here in Oz (although being trapped in the Emerald City is another matter), and he's the only person you can talk to about past memories. He offers you food and shelter and a bed to sleep in (one you have to be careful of him trying to crawl into with you) but you're also forced to put on fake smiles and perform little parlor tricks for the occasional political embassador or adoring crowd.

You're forced to rely on him, but you also resent him, and his feelings towards you? Oh, he has zero problems being affectionate with you, whether it's leading you on his arm, or, taking you by the hand and forcing you into a little dance, or, trying to force his face and lips into the crook of your neck during said dance. He's just been SO lonely for so long, you know? And here you come, a little piece of home, and he finds you so irresistibly, indescribably charming. It makes him all the more desperate to keep control of you, and not knowing where you are to constantly double-check your safety legitimately gives him anxiety. He may even start having someone follow you around, that is if he doesn't start just keeping you with him at all times!

This mf could just legitimately have you hauled away in broad daylight and then he'd probably have the people singing some kind of bullshit song and dance, "just one day, in the Emerald City, just one day, is all it takes to be wed-"

[rklve]

SHOT GLASS OF TEARS | JEON JUNGKOOK - DRABBLE ONE

summary: when eveything falls apart

➣ pairing: jk x f!reader

➣ 1.6k words

warnings: angst.

song inspo: shot glass of tears - jk

I was cold, now I'm freezing stuck in a permanent season and we both know you're the reason I'm not the same as before I don't feel anymore

part one | part two | drabble one

He feels like his heart is being ripped outta his chest. Never thought he would feel this pain. Not this kind of pain, inflicted by you at least. Anyone but you. Feels betrayed, blindsided, backstabbed. No, he can’t even look you straight in the eyes right now. Everything he sees is blur. Confusion. Pain. Tears. “Koo..” you say softly, trying to reach out to him again. Trying to soothe him with your sweet tone. Your sweet touch. Anything. But he refuses to give in. Refuses to let you get away with this. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to us, Bee.” he chokes out, “Can’t fucking believe” “You gotta understand that—“ “I do!” he shouts out “I do understand.” he looks down to you as you shrug on his bed, big eyes glistening full of tears. His favorite eyes. Now he doesn’t seem to know them anymore. He actually feels like he doesn’t know you, the person he spent the past years with. The person he loves the most. His safety zone. His fucking soulmate. Or at least that’s what he thought you were. Before this mess. Before he found out you were planning on leaving him. “What about our dreams?” he babbles out “What about our promises, Bee?” he whispers, words waterlogged, and he feels like he’s about to cry, he really is. Feels sick to his stomach. Feels powerless and overwhelmed. Feels trapped in a nightmare that he can’t wake up for shit. He tries to look at you again, but now you’re the one refusing to keep an eye contact. You’re hurt, resentful, regretful. You didn’t want it to be this way. “It meant nothing to you, right?” he lets out a dark, sour laugh. “Jungkook! Of course they did!” you gasp out, like you’re the one hurting right now. No, you can’t be hurting more than he is. “I applied to it so long ago! It was my dream job! It is a perfect opportunity!” “And why didn’t you tell me that?” he bites back “I was your fucking boyfriend, for god’s sake!” You hold your breath, stomach dropping to your knees as you hear his words. Was. I was your boyfriend. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s breaking up with you. You’re breathless, like someone’s just jabbed right in your gut.

Frozen, you can’t answer him. The words are there, bitting at the back of your teeth, but you can’t say them. Can’t say you wanted to tell him everything. Can’t beg him to not leave you, cause you’ve already hurt him enough.

You really wanted to tell him everything. But you know Jungkook. Know he’d do anything he thought would be good to your future. You were scared he would break up with you months ago just so you could go peacefully to another country. But breaking up with you now? After all you’ve been through. No. You thought he would understand. He would accept. He would at least want to be friends. “Before anything, I was your best friend, y’know?” he whispers under his breath. Like he’s listening to your thoughts. Reading your mind, like he always seemed to do. “I just can’t accept the fact that you did all this behind my back. The search, the application. The fucking interview! Literally, what the hell? What would you do if I never found out? You’d fucking leave without saying goodbye too?” It all feels like a sick joke. You can’t formulate one right sentence in your mess of mind. The words just gather up in your throat and refuse to leave your mouth. It sticks there. It feels heavy, almost suffocating. Your belly is funky, and for the first time in the presence of your favorite boy in the world, it is not in a good way. And it’s all your fault. He just looks at you, paralyzed, in a way too. He won’t let the tears pooling up his eyes fall. He won't look at you anymore. He won’t give you a chance to win him back. He won’t give the million cracked pieces of his heart to you again. To anyone, ever again. It feels like an eternity before he’s able to finally say, “Well, if you won’t say it, I will” he shutters, “Goodbye.”

You're trembling from your head to toe. Can't remeber the last time you were this fucked up. Probably never.

Lola just keeps patting your back, kindly waiting till you calm down so you can explain everything that happened. You don't think you can, tho.

The fresh wound is still very open. Aching, burning, hurting.

Jungkook left you.

Damn, he probably hates you.

And he's so very right to do so.

Just last week, both of you were talking about moving in together.

Like everytime he talks about wanting to spend lifetime with you, you know he meant it. And you did too. You wanted to do it all with him.

But you were so frustrated.

So damn frustrated with work, with your future, with your goals.

You always wanted to fulfill your dream to be an veterinary cardiology especialist. It was your ultimate dream, your ultimate goal, but you couldn't to it here, in your city. And you always knew that.

That's why you applied just as you gratuated for a great study program, where you would work with the greatest in the area, you would learn so much and make all kinds of connections.

But there was a problem.

It was in another country. Australia to be exact. Five thousand miles away. Too far from the bubble you’ve forever been. Far from your friends, your family. Far away from Jungkook.

But still, it was just a dream.

Until it wasn't.

They actually reached out to you. They were impressed with your dedication throughout college and had good feedbacks from your professors and your boss at the clinic your currently working on. They saw the passion within you. Said you were eveything this program was about.

And that's where it led you.

You postponed the pain, and it led you to an even greater fall.

Now you are completely devastaded. Wondering if you did the right thing. Can't get your mind off Jungkook's sad, hurt eyes. You know how he felt, you know him just like the back of your hand, but you still were stupid enough to think it would be better to hide it from him till the last minute.

Exactly a week before the trip.

No, you weren’t leaving before telling him.

You were actually going to his house that day so you could get it out of your chest. Tell him everything. Every little detail. Cross your fingers and hope he'd understand and support you. Tell him you loved him and would be willing to try long distance until you could end the program, then you two would decide how you two would end up. Hopefully happy, lovely and together. Keep on planning on how many kids you'd want. If it'd be better to have a sister for Bamie first, instead.

So many options, so many thoughts. But it’s all gone down the drain.

Gone the moment he openned his computer where you forgot your e-mail logged the last time you went to his place.

Gone as soon as he saw the last e-mail from the program giving you a warm welcome.

Gone the minute he realized you've been keeping a huge ass secret from him. A secret that would ruin his trust, would shatter his heart and would make him doubt all the times you've been together.

All the promises

All the sweet touches and warm eyes

All the i love you’s

He just can’t believe in your love anymore.

He doesn’t want your love anymore.

And that’s your worst nightmare.

“Is he coming?” Lola suddenly says, holding tight on your hand like she doesn’t want you to let go.

You look at her, sad eyes averting from the car window for a second to reply but you are not able to. Your throat is filled up with a huge lump again. Actually, you think it never went away since you stepped out of Jungkook’s apartment that day.

But it’s worst today.

So much worst.

The tears bubble in your eyes again as you unlock your phone searching for an answer that never came.

You | 4:20 PM

my flight is at 7.

in case you want to say goodbye.

It’s 6:15 PM.

No reply. No sign.

You breathe out again.

Breathe in.

You can do this.

It’s your dream.

You can do this.

So you arrive at the airport, check-in, and sit with Lola to wait until you can get on that damn plane.

You’re doing this.

Until you catch sight of the boys from distance.

Your heart skips a million beats.

Did he actually come for you?

But just a second later, the same heart that was running a mile away comes to a halt, is squeezed out of life as you realize,

He’s not here.

As the group approaches, you realize he’s the only one who isn’t. Even Taehyung, who did not seem to enjoy the idea of seeing your face right now came to say goodbye.

Now all of them look at you apologetic, as if it’s their fault the one you needed the most is not there for the farewell.

But you know better.

You’re the one to blame.

So you say your goodbyes, hold back your tears and give them the tightest hugs there is, soak up all the good lucks and try to mentalize again. You want to start this new capther with good thoughts. Need to feel the happiness you are supposed to.

But you're numb.

Cause all you think about is him.

And how you wish it didn't end up like this.

YAYYY I'M FINALLY BACK WITH THE DRABBLES!!!!

i actually started writing a happy drabble, the one of when they've met BUT jungkook leaving me in here all alone took out the angst monster in me I HAD TO BE SOUR SOMEWHERE!!!!

anyways, as you know eng is not my first language so i'm sorry if there are any typos! please leave comments if you like the story, i'll accept requests too <3

taglist: @kooliv @serendipity713 @5seos @pointofviewyugyeom @glitterybreadtimemachine @olimpiiaa @kooklovee @coffeewkth @valwnn @tae-hibiscus @skzthinker @lazyyhooman @sharkipoonis @kiylasstuff @kissyfacekoo @spicxbnny @cookysstuff @somehowukook @bd123sworld @ashleylookatme @kookies-n-spice @pamzn

tysm for supporting rainy days, i hope you enjoy :) xx

[pathetic-tboy]

tw for extreme noncon, implied murder (not of the narrator) , sex slavery, kidnapping serial killer erotica

you went into the woods feeling prepared. you had a gun on you. people kept disappearing in the woods and youre sooo brave.

the dead bodies freaked you out. you decided to leave, but there she was. taller than you, with long hair and a knife. you reached for your gun as she strided towards you, you could see her clearly in the moonlight. there was blood all over her. her face, her clothes, everywhere.

you pulled the trigger. click click click. you had forgotten bullets. but she giggled, grabbing your face.

"oh, you're so cute to be out here looking for trouble, are you trans, too?" of course she had clocked you. before you could say anything, you were pushed down on your knees. you wanted to move, to scream, but you felt frozen in place. she fished her cock out from her jeans, rubbing it on your face. "be a good boy for me and take care of this, wont you?"

she talked so sweetly for a murderer. your heart was pounding out of your chest. you stared at her with a stupefied expression.

"aw, come on, sweetie, you dont want me to use this on you, do you?" she pressed the flat of the bloody blade against your face. you were shaking. everything in you told you to run, to fight back, but you took her cock into your mouth anyway, hoping that she'd let you go after.

you bobbed up and down, the woods silent besides her hums and your slurping. you looked up at her with tears in your eyes, wondering how you had gotten into this mess. but you knew, it was all your fault. you could die out here. you slowed down, lost in heart-chilling terror, but you couldnt deny the heat in your core.

"need help?" she grabbed the back of your head with one hand and shoved you down on her girlcock, fucking your face. you sputtered and choked around it, crying even more now, feeling helpless as she violated you. if only you hadnt come. if only you hadnt come. it was different when you were the one controlling the pace. she went hard and fast, you didnt even know if she cared if you could breathe. she might choke you on her dick until you drown in your own saliva, you could barely think as she used your mouth like a pussy. was this the first time she had had sex in a while? and it had to be you?

she pulled out of your mouth, leaving you gasping and panting, and threw you down onto your hands and knees. you tried to crawl away, but she dragged you back by your ankles, and flipped you over.

"you dont want me to get mean, do you?" she growled, staring you in the eyes. you avoided her gaze, shaking your head, but she grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at her.

"n-no ma'am....." you whispered defeatedly.

she didnt bother taking off your shirt, instead cutting it up and off you. she traced your scars, seemingly interested in them. "ill have to cut you up a little..... you make such pretty scars... ill need a fresh knife." she whispered morbidly. you could only choke out a sob as she unbuttoned your jeans, yanking them down and off.

"look at that pretty little cunt...." she dipped her fingers in, and you cringed at how wet you were. "youre so wet.... you must be loving the attention, dont you? youll love being my little boytoy, wont you?" you didnt answer. you were paralyzed with fear, tears streaming down your cheeks. but she touched you well, and you were moaning aloud at her expert playing of your pussy and tdick, thrusting your hips into her hands. the fear and her touching you were rocking your senses, you were terrified but you wanted more, but you didnt want more at the same time.

until she stopped, spreading your legs across her clothed thighs, brushing her girldick along the edge of your hole. you gave a couple of half hearted wriggles to get away, but you knew you were powerless. she held the knife against your throat then.

"you cut that out, slut, i know you want this. listen to your fucking moans." she rubbed her cock against your tdick. and you involuntarily moaned, thrusting your hips and proving her point. "yeah, i fucking thought so. now. take. it." she thrusted into you, drawing out a gasp, then all the way, pounding into you. she gave you no time to acclimate, raping your pussy as hard and fast as she could. you cried and screamed but kept still as she violated you, the knife scaring you into compliance.

but even still, your pussy made embarrassingly wet sounds around her thrusting, and you were moaning and whining. you felt your orgasm fast approaching, and tried to will it away. you cant cum from this. you CANT cum from this! shes KILLED people! but you let out a defeated wail as you clenched down around her thrusting cock, cumming on her despite your useless internal struggle.

"yeaaah, good fucking slut." she slapped your ass with the hand she was using to hold your hip, but she didnt stop. she didnt give you any time to breathe, or come down from your powerful orgasm, she continued to take you until you were cumming again.

"fuck- please!- uhhm- no more!" you cried out, but she either didnt hear you or didnt care. she bent down, bending your legs behind your head, and kissed you hard. she tasted like blood. she smelled like blood. all you could think about was how good it felt and how you probably shouldve been dead by now, and how you dont know if this is better.

"im gonna cum in you, you better be ready." she hissed against your mouth, bitng down on your lower lip hard. she fucked you hard and deep, making you sob despite your moans and guilty pleasures. you didnt have a uterus, but you didnt want her to cum in you. the first time was supposed to be special! but she made you cum one more time with her, spilling into you as you wailed. it felt so good.

"fuck..... good fucktoy." she sighed, twitching inside you as she dumped her load inside your aching pussy. "can you still get pregnant?" she asked, zipping up her jeans.

you didnt say anything for a second too long, she slapped you in the face. "n-no ma'am...." you whispered, holding your arms across your chest.

"so i can keep you? great."

"fuck- no- please let me go!" you cried, but she picked you up anyway, throwing you over her shoulder and carrying you deeper into the woods. you beat against her back weakly, but she didnt seem to notice. you screamed until you couldnt scream anymore, but at some point on her walk back to her isolated cabin in the woods, you quietly accepted your fate as a serial killers sex slave.