#Muddy Stilettos

[hermionerose28]

Can I ask a huge favour of everyone please?

Could you please vote Ashton Lodge Country House as the Best Wedding Venue for Warwickshire 🙏

They are currently third and voting ends on Sunday.

I would really appreciate it! ✨

Thank you 💕

[hunnylagoon]

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 3: Being So Normal

Ellie Williams x Reader

Horror pushes tears from my eyes as I uncover the corpses of your past relationships. Each of them dead and lifeless as the next. Because that is what you do, you ruin what is good and it makes me miss you less and less as everyday goes by.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends until you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find their way back to each other. On this night some questionable choices lead you to a vulnerable state where you run out of options.

Warnings: Angst / reader has religious issues / drinking / smoking / drugs

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three here!

ELLIE

It wasn't as fun as I thought to watch you fall apart.

The morning after Christmas you left before I even woke, your makeshift bed made. You gathered all of the boxes of shit I collected off your dad's lawn and took off, leaving behind nothing more than a letter thanking my dad for his hospitality. 

When I came back to Northridge a week later it was like I was looking at a new person. 

Everything that had happened was swept under the rug, you lied and told the girls that you had a great Christmas. You started picking up overtime shifts, you were out more than you were at home.

I watch you stumble through the doors at five AM, makeup smeared, hair a mess and the fakest smile I have ever borne witness to, plastered across your face. You worked the closing shift almost every night and would go partying afterwards with your shitty co-workers who enabled this type of ruination.

I saw your stories too, shot after shot, In every single picture you nurse a drink in your hand or a cigarette wedged between your fingers. When did you even start smoking?

Abby and Cat didn't know just had bad you were but Dina was catching on. I remember how she would go out with you at the beginning, in her mind it had just been harmless fun until it was a nightly occurrence she started to get concerned.

It's like you've euthanized the person you used to be.

You can't even stand to be in a quiet room so you will it with nonsense conversation, hardly even words and laugh at your own jokes.

You used to glow. Back in middle school, you glowed like a candle that smelled of pumpkins and lattes, your love felt like sinking into a warm bath, comfort and security. In high school you glowed like the moon, no one could pry their wondering eyes away from your nerve-wracking beauty, gentle and empathetic.

Though now you do not glow, you burn. You burn like the end of a cigarette, the bud fluttering to the ground just to be crushed by the heel of muddy Converse. The spark of a lighter to ignite your stale menthol cigarette, slipped from bony fingers like clumsy matchsticks to the wilderness, to set what once was beautiful aflame.

Fire is only beautiful while it burns, I knew that soon you would smother yourself out to ashes.

I've been nourishing my withering body with 50-cent packets of ramen noodles. 

I know that I'm not well, in fact, I think I've fallen off the rails.

When was the last time I got a full night of sleep? I'm not sure.

My days and nights bleed together and I can hardly differentiate the two. I hate everyone but I'm so starved for love I am searching everywhere for it, I look for it in dingy clubs and roadkill off the side of a highway, the bottom of a solo cup and the arms of one-night stands, I have even learned to lick it off silver knives. They have taken the rosery from my hand and replaced it with hard liquor.

I went out last night to forget like I do every single night. I look to the moon and pretend it is its being with thoughts and feelings, I act like I talk to it and it has said that it shines just for me.

Tonight, I will go out again. I smear glitter over my eyelids and slip into a silver sequin dress that doesn't even fall past my fingertips. I force my scabbed and bleeding feet into white stilettos that are sure to damage them even further. When I look in the mirror I feel a new sense of bitterness, like nicotine on the tip of my tongue, my face is thinning and my eyes are sunken in, dark bags hanging below the dull irisis. I cover it in concealer and bronze my face to help me look some sort of alive.

"Where are you going?" Dina asks me as I walk from my room and towards the front door, she has a tote bag packed up, her car keys in hand.

"The Monarch," I answer, it was a club on the main street, it tended to be the busiest also infamous for sketchy activity. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the tote bag in hand "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to Jesse's for the night, " She says, tonight her hair is loose and falling over her shoulders "Are you sure you wanna go out tonight?"

I nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable in my choice of clothing "Yeah," Sensing her judgement, I'm already getting defensive "I'm in college, all I do and go to work and school-

"Who's fault is that?" Dina cuts me off and my words fail me, I don't know what to say. She looks at me with disappointment glinting in her dark eyes.

My phone dings and I check the notification "My ride is here."

"Don't stay out too late."

"I won't," We both know that I am lying.

I have been many things over the years, a pirate, a cowboy, a warrior; over the past five months alone I have been a lonely girl and a saint, now I am a drunk who drowns out her worries in vodka and overly sweet cocktails.

"To being young, dumb, and broke!" Kayla raises her shot, and the rest of the group does the same. The small glasses clink together, and some of the vodka spills before we all swallow them back and slam them back onto the bar.

The central focal point was the expansive dance floor, alive with bodies moving in rhythmic unison. Multicoloured strobe lights cut through the haze, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

The bar, a gleaming expanse of polished metal, beckoned with the promise of libations. Bartenders, clad in stylish attire, skillfully craft cocktails. The mirrored backdrop reflected the kaleidoscope of lights and the animated conversations that unfolded in this hub of social convergence.

Overhead, suspended fixtures resembling metallic sculptures add to the overstimulation.

"Welcome back," The bartender, Mitch, smiles at me, I know him by name now that I've been bouncing around from club to club almost every night. "Long Island ice tea?" He asks, to which I respond with a nod. He's memorized my drink too.

Kayla is beside me while the others have dispersed to dance or converse, she sips a dirty martini. Her beautiful copper hair is styled into loose curls, she is clad in all black, a tube top, a mini skirt and tall boots as well as a slightly oversized leather jacket thrown overtop. She looks like the definition of a cool girl.

Everyone liked her. 

"So how are things with the roommates?" She asks me, her green eyes piercing mine, she has a slight smile on her perfect lips.

"It's fine," I lied, again. I knew Dina was getting tired of taking care of me when I was too drunk to make my own way home, all of the girls that Ellie brought over hated me. I haven't been seeing much of Abby but Cat and I were actually good.

I can tell that Kayla doubts my words but she carries on to another topic "Are you ready to get fucked up tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am," I giggle. Around the curved bar, I see a woman, she's in a red top and black jeans, her hair in a mousy brown shag cut. Obviously, she caught my eye. "Do you think she's gay?"

Kayla discreetly turns to look at the woman, she turns back to me grinning "No shit."

The woman catches me staring at her and smiles at me, of course, she has perfectly straight white teeth and a pretty smile. I sheepishly smile back "Hey, Mitch?" I wait for the bartender to give me his attention "Two shots of Everclear?"

That's how the majority of my night plays out; I dance for a minute, swaying to- not really swaying, I was dancing in a way that became a hazard to those around me then return to the bar to down more drinks.

"Hey," I hear a voice beside me, it isn't one I recognize, and when I face it, I feel my heartbeat pick up. It was the woman I had been eyeing, now that she's this close I can see the freckles scattered on her face. "Do you wanna dance?"

I can't help when my face splits into a smile, "For sure," I slip off the barstool and follow her onto the dancefloor, the lights are orange and hazy or maybe the haziness is caused by my drunken state. The woman says something to me but it's drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud music "What?" 

"I'm Karris," She repeats, smiling down at me.

"Cool!" I say. I followed Karris' lead with the dancing, she had a certain confidence in her. 

I swayed with each ungraceful movement. Karris, the opposite of me is attuned to the music, moved with a confident fluidity that balanced out my careless stumbles. She laughs at my dancing "Here, I'll help you out." She shouts, trying to be heard over the Rhianna song blasting in my ears.

She comes up behind me, snaking her hands down my torso until they find a resting spot on my hips. With a firm grip, she slows me down, and now I'm moving with her, as one.

My sequin dress shimmered with every twist and move, like a mirrorball, I too might hang. As the light shifts I could've sworn I saw Ellie in the face of Karris. 

I felt the liquor hit me all at once and my body became loose, melting into Karris, I'm almost limp against her touch. She's in front of me now and my arms are hooked around her neck while her slim hands lay on her midriff. 

Her eyebrows furrow as she says something to me but once again it it lost in all of the noise, I just laugh, pretending like I heard what she was saying and hoping that it wasn't something about her dog dying.

The pop song changes into some song in French, I can't make out the words. Wait, I aced every French test in high school, I step away from Karris, squinting my eyes as I stand still in the middle of the dancefloor trying to process the lyrics.

 Je veux te voir- I need you, no, that doesn't sound right. I want to see you, that's it. 

 je veux t'avoir- I want to hold you.

I want to hold you? Is that it? When did my French get so rough? I can't even think straight.

I swear on every god I was so drunk that I forgot I was in the middle of a dancefloor, it had slipped from my mind that I was dancing with someone, and all I could think about was my French classes from high school.

Age fifteen - Grade 10

The French lesson seemed to be even more boring than usual that day. Monsieur Cargin was babbling on and on about how there could be a room full of women but if there was one male rat you would refer to them using ils instead of elles. It was the same lesson I had learned every single year in French.

It took Monsieur Cargin thirty minutes to announce the project. "Pour ce devoir, vous écrirez une lettre à un camarade de classe sur vous-même, vous pourrez inclure des informations sur votre famille, vos passe-temps, vos sujets préférés et peut-être un bon souvenir. Si vous êtes ami avec votre partenaire, vous pouvez écrire avec lui sur quelque chose que vous attendez avec impatience. La lettre fera au minimum un paragraphe, je viserais plus haut si vous voulez une bonne note." Easy enough, a letter to a classmate about your self. "Avant de demander, vous pouvez choisir vos propres partenaires."

I look right over to Ellie from across the room after he mentions choosing our own partners, she doesn't meet my gaze though, she looks as lost as ever, rifling through some papers in her binder and I'm not even sure she understood a word of what the teacher said.

Monsieur Cargin lets us begin our project, everyone gets up from their seat to search for a partner; Ellie, seeing that everyone is standing up, gets up as well. I wave her down to my desk, she crouches beside it and asks "What the fuck are we supposed to be doing?"

I explain the project to her while she hangs off my desk and nods at everything I'm saying, giving me her full attention "Do you get it now?"

"Yes." 

The next day we finished writing the letters and had to give them to each other before we turned it in, I gave Ellie my letter first.

Ellie,

Je suis heureux que nous soyons amis, non seulement parce que nos parents nous ont forcés à l'être, mais parce que tu es mon âme sœur dans chaque vie. J'aimerais te parler de moi, mais tu me connais déjà mieux que moi-même, alors je vais juste dire certaines choses que je sais sur toi. Vous avez lu chaque couverture de la bande dessinée Savage Starlight, plus d'une fois. Je sais que vous aimez faire du shopping dans la section hommes des magasins parce que vous pensez que c'est plus confortable même si vous finissez par ressembler à Adam Sandler. Vous détestez les mathématiques même si vous êtes vraiment bon dans ce domaine et vous aimez l'anglais même si vous détestez les études romanesques. Vous parlez à toute vitesse parce que vous avez tellement de choses à dire et pas assez de temps pour le dire, vous chantez comme une église avec une chorale et chaque fois que je vous vois entrer dans une pièce, je ne peux m'empêcher de sourire. J'ai hâte d'entrer à l'université, nous pouvons être colocataires et décorer la maison exactement comme nous le voulons, merci de toujours me supporter.

(Translation)

Ellie,

I'm glad that we're friends, not just because our parents forced us to be but because you are my soulmate in every single life. I would like to tell you about me, but you already know me better than I know myself so instead I will just say some things I know about you. You have read every Savage Starlight comic cover to cover, more than once. I know that you like to shop in the men's section at stores because you think it's more comfortable even if you end up looking like Adam Sandler. You hate math even though you are really good at it and you love English even though you hate novel studies. You talk at a mile a minute because you have so much to say and not enough time to say it, you sing like a church with a choir in it and every time I see you walk into a room I can't help but smile. I can't wait for college, we can be roommates and decorate the house exactly how we want it, thank you for always putting up with me.

I bent the rubric a little bit, talking about Ellie rather than myself but we were really getting graded on our French comprehension, not the subject matter of the letter. Ellie read it through, over and over, nodding her head along and pretending that it made perfect sense but I can tell by the way she squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows that it doesn't make sense. She hand hers to me next, pride clear across her face.

Ton père est toujours en colère et je pense que c'est pour ça que nous sommes mariés. J'apprécie quand tu dors dans ma chambre et que nous nous battons avec des pistolets à eau. Mon film préféré à regarder est Star Wars, mais j'apprécie aussi Hunger Games parce que vous en êtes témoin. J'attends avec impatience une soirée cinéma ce vendredi avec vous. Tu es très cool, merci d'être mon ami.

(Translation)

Your dad is always mad and I think that is why we are married. I enjoy when you sleep at my room and we fight with guns of water. My favourite movie to watch is Star Wars but I also enjoy Hunger games because you witness it. I look forward to night movie this Friday because with you. You are very cool, thank for being my friend.

I can't help but giggle when I read it over, this causes panic in Ellie "Why are you laughing, what's wrong with it?"

"I love you but you are definitely failing."

I quickly helped her rewrite it before we turned it in, and she ended up getting a B with my revisions.

"Are you okay?" I hear Karris, she looks a little on edge, probably because I went nonverbal and froze for a solid minute or two.

"She's fine," Kayla puts her hands on either of my arms which are currently plastered to my side "I'm just gonna snag her for a minute if you don't mind." Kayla didn't wait for a response she was already dragging me away, guiding me through the sea of people and into the bathroom.

I always hated the bathroom here. The walls were black tile with white grout and there was graffiti all over the stalls and ceiling, apparently, it added to the effect, I just thought it was fugly; not to mention how dimly lit it was, there were red LED strips behind the mirrors but that was about the only light source. If you were trying to fix your eyeliner, you 

"What is going on with you?" Kayla leans against the counter with the sinks, I'm right in front of her with my arms crossed.

"Nothing-

"I just saw you glitch in real life," She raises her eyebrows "You literally froze, I thought you were having a stroke."

I wipe some sweat off my brow "My head hurts," I mutter, I've already had too much to drink and we really hadn't been there that long. My thoughts didn't seem to process. Now keep in mind that I was so insanely plastered that night that I don't remember everything verbatim, I had to take others' words for what happened.

"Do you want an aspirin?" Kayla asks to which I nod and she begins digging through her purse, she pulls out a little bottle and I hear the rattling of pills. It's so dark that I can only make out the vague shape of the bottle. She places a little pill into my hand and gives me a half-drunk bottle of Fiji water in my free hand.

I don't need the water though, I dry swallow it.

She tucks the bottle back into her purse and feels something, I see her eyes go wide and that alone begins to stress me out. "What?" I ask, with no answer. She dumps her purse onto the counter behind her and turns on her phone flash to look at each item, she snatches a bottle of Tylenol and takes the cap off just for her hand to fly over her mouth. "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't give you aspirin," She's fighting back laughter but her dainty features are etched with concern.

"So?" I say, "It's just Tylenol, it won't kill me," My speech is slurred from the alcohol in my system.

"Honey, it's not Tylenol," She lowers her hand from her mouth, pressing her lips together tight. "It's MDMA."

"What?"

"Ecstasy," She corrects herself, making it easier for me to understand.

"WHAT?" My eyes go wide and my jaw drops "WHAT?" I repeat, running over to one of the nasty graffiti-covered stalls and kneeling in front of it, sticking my fingers down my throat to try and throw up to get it out of my system before it sets in. "Say something gross to make me throw up!"

"Uhh," Kayla stood behind me "Think of your dad getting off with your grandma!"

"EW!" I shout, turning to look at her with disgust on my face. "Why would you say that?"

"You told me to say something gross!"

"Not that!" I cry, slouching against the stall. I wish I had a time machine, I wouldn't just go back four hours, I would go back four years and make sure I play everything right. Maybe then I wouldn't be drunk and high in the bathroom of a dingy nightclub and I would still have Ellie.

"It's okay, honey, It's clean," Kayla walks closer to me, the heels of her boots clacking on the tile "I promise," She offers me a little rub on the shoulder "I promise I'll take good care of you tonight and make sure you're safe."

She was lying through her teeth, and just an hour later I was face down on the bar, lulling in and out of consciousness. That is the exact moment I started to think it wasn't clean like Kayla had said. My high didn't feel like what I was told rolling was like.

At first, I felt fine and then everything started to feel off. You know when you spin around a bunch super fast and your world spins under your feet? It was like that. 

Before I retired to the bar, I tried to get back on the dancefloor just for my body to betray me and collapse onto the ground, people around me had stopped to watch me stagger back onto my feet and wordlessly stumble away.

After I lift my head off the spruce bartop and don't see Kayla anywhere in sight for the seventh time, I reach for my phone that I had stuffed into my bra and dial up Dina. 

I hear the hum of the tone before it clicks and I hear her static voice on the other end. "Hello?" Her voice crackles.

"Dina, I'm on drugs."

"What?" I hear some shuffling in the background then what sounds like the click of a door "What drugs? are you okay?"

"I don't know," My voice drags out "Kayla took it out of her purse, said it was MMA and I'm not-" I hiccup "I'm not doing well."

"What the hell is MMA? Isn't that mixed martial arts?"

"Dina, I'm not doing martial arts, I'm doing drugs."

She sighs and I can feel her disappointment through the phone "Are you still at Monarch?"

"Yes."

"Hang on," Something shifts in the background.

"I'm kind of scared."

"Please just stay where you are-

"I love you, Dina."

"I lo- CLICK

My phone dies, and the screen turns black. I click some buttons for a moment to ensure that it's dead before I tuck it back into my bra and let myself lull back onto the bar, I rest my head on my arms and look at the displays of liquor surrounding me.

I lose track of the time that passes, in my head I am just about the win the 72nd Hunger Games, it's down to me and another tribute. There's an intense fight, I wind up underneath her and she presses a blade to my throat, I get a good look at her face and see Ellie but her face doesn't stay the same. It morphs through every version of her I had ever known. When we were seven, her grunge phase, when she let me do her makeup. This is when I give up, I know I don't have it in me to kill her so I lay limp and await my fate-

"Hey," A man sits next to me, his presence stood out effortlessly. With a strong, chiselled jawline and well-defined features, his face carried an air of that old-money elegance. His hazel eyes were softened by something (alcohol, probably), drawing others into their captivating gaze. Dark, tousled hair framed his face, adding an intriguing touch of ruggedness. He is clad in a white button-up and dress pants, I can well he's a blue-collar man just from the way he sits.

"What?" I squint my eyes at him.

"You're really pretty, I thought I would introduce myself," He smiles "I'm Emmet."

"Okay," I answer turning my attention to look ahead at the liquor display, watching the way the lights shone through them. Right now I don't care to make conversation, even if he looks like Henry Cavell, I'm fighting to stay awake.

One of his bulky hands reaches for my necklace, four of his fingers are beneath the cross, pressed against it while his thumb rubs it "You're religious."

I look down where he cradles my cross and try to jerk away but my body feels too heavy "Not anymore," I mutter. I put one of my hands over his to move it off me, he takes this as an invitation to hold my hand.

Emmet brings his head next to mine to whisper in my ear "So does that mean you're a good girl or a bad girl-

"It means she's leaving, actually," Ellie pushes him away abruptly, he looks taken aback while she doesn't give a shit. She begins to gingerly help me off the stool "Do you have everything?"

"Why are you here?" I ask "I called Abby."

"You called Dina and she's on the other side of town with her boyfriend so she sent me." Ellie slings one arm around me and I sink into her immediately.

"I hate you so much," I murmur under my breath.

"Yeah, I bet you do," She is gentle with me, she's treating me like I'm made of porcelain and I'll shatter at the slightest bit of harm.

Emmet looks crazily offended, his hands up in defence "Hey, we were having a conversation-

"Borderline harassment doesn't constitute a conversation." Ellie looks like she rolled out of bed, she is in her grey sweatpants and field hockey hoodie, her hair in the low ponytail she always wore to sleep. "Are you okay?" She asks, her tone shifting from harsh to soft.

"Mhm," I ball my fist up and rub my eye, smearing my mascara when I do so, I look down at my hand and see the remnants of my telescopic mascara and silver glitter smudged on it. 

I am killing myself slowly and it is no crucifixion. 

As Ellie helps me into the back seat of her car I feel like mold is growing on my bones just to way me down to the concrete where I will surely rot. "I don't write enough," I mumble "And I'm so lonely I'm searching for god everywhere but I can't find him."

Ellie gives me a little hum of acknowledgment her eyes briefly shooting to me in the rearview mirror before looking back to the road. 

"Don't worry, I'm not in love with you anymore," I say nonchalantly as I'm sprawled out in her back seat, watching the light from neon signs pass us by.

"I didn't know you ever were." She says softly, hands on the steering wheel, she steals glances at me. The towering skyscrapers loomed like sentinels, their reflective glass surfaces capturing the myriad colours of neon signs that adorned the streets.

"I hate you," I add on. The mix of liquor and whatever drug Kayla gave me was doing me justice, I couldn't hold back any thought, they all fell from my lips in a jumbled mess. "I hope you die, I hope we both die." Ellie doesn't have anything to say to that. I think to myself that if I die in this moment, I would not be afraid, I would greet death like an old friend with a bright smile and warm hug. "I don't love anyone the way I love you," My head lulls against the window "And your girls, they all hate me."

"So which is it?" She asks, feeding into my tangent "Do you love me or do you hate me?"

"I-" I think about it for a brief moment "I hope if I killed myself everyone who was ever mean to me felt responsible." I look up slightly, using the car seats to help me steady myself "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home," She says, biting the inside of her cheek "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for god to call me back."

I ramble on and on, it's a miracle that she didn't stop at the side of the road and dump me onto a curb. The traffic lights painted the road in hues of red and green, and the city lights flickered like stars, helping us find our way home. 

"Ellie," I say, a building up ahead catches my eyes "Ellie, pull over!" She thinks I'm going to throw up so she pulls her gray sedan over, as swiftly as possible. I stumble out of the car, my stiletto heel catches the ground in a weird way, my ankle goes sideways and I fall with it.

"Shit," Ellie rushes from the driver's seat to help me sit up straight. I use her as support to pull myself off the concrete sidewalk completely and walk towards the church up ahead like a zombie "Where are you going?"

"To clean myself from sin," I approach the church and force the heavy doors open; I knew for a fact even in my state that this church had its chapel open twenty-four hours from all of the Google pins my mom sent me when I first moved here. 

The chapel's interior was bathed in a soft, ethereal moonlight that filtered through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colours upon the polished wooden pews below. 

Smooth, cool stone formed the foundation of the chapel. The high, arched ceilings reached towards the heavens, adorned with wooden beams that seemed to cradle the sacred space below. The acoustics, shaped by the architecture, lent an echo to the moonlight whisper as if the very walls absorbed and magnified the prayers of the faithful.

Rows of meticulously arranged pews lined either side of a central aisle, leading towards the altar bathed in a soft glow. Carved with intricate detail, the altar served as the focal point, adorned with candles, floral arrangements, and sacred symbols. The air was scented with the subtle fragrance of incense, a sensory companion to the spiritual journey within.

Throughout the chapel, unlit candles are spread throughout. Above the altar, a crucifix hung solemnly, a symbol of sacrifice and redemption. Rays of moonlight seemed to converge upon it, imbuing the sacred symbol with a profound sense of grace. 

I try to compose myself the way you would a song or a speech and fall to my knees before the altar, clasping my hands together tightly. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered and died for us. I wake young but feel as though my bones have resided on this earth for centuries."

I am at his altar but I don't feel him around me, where is his steady hand which used to guide me?

My hands grasp together even tighter "I am filthy, I'm disgusting," I choke out "I'm all used up and I need you to help me get better," I break my hands away from their position to wipe my eyes free of any oncoming tears before putting them right back "Fill me with your purity, I will be waterboarded by your sacred hand until holy water leaks from my pores."

Ellie hangs around by the entrance, sketched out by not only the creepy church but also my off-putting behaviour. She flinches at every shadow she sees, believing it to be a homeless person who was residing there for the night. I'm kneeling over in my sequin dress, one of the straps slips down my shoulder and my dress rides up, this is the most sinful I have ever been, synthetic sunshine coursing through my system.

"Make me love myself so I have room to love you," I feel so repulsive and dirty, soap and water won't make me feel clean so I'll try bleach and matches instead "I ask for Your mercy and grace to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. Create in me a clean heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me, return my family to my side."

I search for some sort of sign that he is watching over me.

Nothing.

No sign that he is here.

The priest at my old church in my hometown had said that without doubt there was no room for faith. It wasn't doubt, it was absolution, he is not here and so I unclasped my golden cross necklace and discarded it on the ground before the altar, never again will I be haunted by a man who has failed to ever show me mercy.

Ellie washes the grime off me with the detachable shower head. My hair is clipped up and I am hugging my knees, facing away from her in the bathtub. I feel a profound sense of shame and embarrassment all over again despite everything within me that is helping to take the edge off. 

She holds the shower head but looks away to give me some false sense of dignity, I cried the whole way home from the church about being filthy but with how many times I had fallen over, she didn't want me to hit my head in the shower so we settled on this.

"I'm done," I mutter and right away Ellie turns the shower off and grabs my house robe from one of the hooks on the door, she holds it up and waits for me to stand, still averting her eyes. I stand slowly, gripping onto the rim of the tub for dear life. When I slip into it, Ellie helps me move out of the bathtub and into my bedroom.

She lifts me onto the bed and tucks me in beneath my satin duvet cover. Ellie leaves for a moment but when she returns she has a bowl in case I need to vomit, a class of water, a sleeve of saltines and a bottle of actual aspirin.

"Goodnight," She begins to shut the door but I stop her.

"Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay with me?" My voice breaks as I say it "Just for tonight, I don't want to be alone." Wordlessly, she shuts the door and comes around the right side of my bed; Ellie is careful keep her distance from me but unlike Christmas, we face each other. "I don't hate you." I tell her because that is all I could recall saying in the car ride.

"I know."

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course not."

I don’t think I’m a whole person anymore, I think I’m made up from a dozen different perceptions of me. This version of me, born that night was anything but pure.

I am unlovely, so please, hold me gently and do not wreck me any further.

A/N: The drinking age in Canada is nineteen! They go to school in the true north strong and free. Also one more part left to go 👀

Tag list!

@elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell

Sorry if I missed anyone!

[chelseypprimrose]

Farmer Wants a Mistress / farmer!negan x richbrat!reader / 18+ / AU

Summary: Living the good life since you married into money, you’ve become desensitised to the more simple ‘live off the land’ lifestyle of your sister. Her husband Negan sets out to teach a harsh lesson for you not to be so judgemental.

Warnings: infidelity, brat!reader, smut, rough sex elements, use of “hayseed hick” which are derogatory terms for a farmer, degrading terms, outside/forest sex, spitting, choking, negan is a warning in its self, mean!negan, slapping, dumbification (slightly), oral (male receiving), slight hint of dacryphilia

A/N: i need sedating, this GIF, oh my good LORD. fyi, i do not condone anyone looking down on another person for their profession/how much they work or earn, this is purely fiction and the needed attitude for the brat character/reader! also i’m telling you now, reader is a BRAT, like ‘Wild Child’ Poppy Moore level of brat, if that isn’t your thing, this probably isn’t the fic for you! 🤍

“god, i don’t know why i even let you drag me here, we are in the middle of nowhere.” you huffed, using the inflight magazine you’d taken from the flight to fan yourself off, unaccustomed to the sweltering heat of texas this time of year. your sister’s grip of the steering wheel got tighter, trying to hold her tongue at your obvious annoyance.

“i’m so sorry it’s such a inconvenience for you to visit your only sister, which by the way, you only do once a year.” she sniped back, rolling her eyes. adjusting your sunglasses on your nose, you stared out at the crop farmlands as you drove past, a vast difference to the city skyscrapers you were used to back home. “look, i’m just not the biggest fan of farms, or farm animals. they smell and it’s just too much work! why you ever let yourself marry into this, i’ll never understand.” you quipped back, throwing the magazine down into your lap as it wasn’t doing anything to help your rising body temperature.

like she had said, you only ever made the journey from new york to texas once a year to visit your sisters side of the family, granted it was only the two of them. her and her farmer husband, Negan, born into a farmer family himself, he’d taken over the land once his parents had moved on, settling for a smaller place, unable to keep working due to age. him and your sister had married a year after you and your own husband had, the two men couldn’t have been more different if they tried.

your own husband was a banker, giving you a penthouse apartment, what seemed like a unlimited supply of money and multiple trips away every year to the most luxurious resorts and locations. growing up poor and then overnight having more money than you knew what to do with had changed you, you wouldn’t deny that.

you couldn’t remember the last time you had bought anything that wasn’t designer, having your hair done monthly and various spa weekends, keeping yourself in tip top condition. you and her led very separate and different lives, you couldn’t help but feel like she’d got the short end of the deal, slaving away on a godawful ranch seven days a week.

she finally pulled up to the front of the farm, the slightly open window forcing you to smell the various animals that were loitering around outside of the barn next to the rustic-styled house. the exposed white wood of the front porch, multi-coloured chicken wind chime made of bamboo hung off the plinth of the patio, making small clinking noises from the slight wind that gathered up the dust of the grain. all these elements together started to remind you that you were far from your own home comforts of proper electricity and pleasant smells.

you opened your door, being careful not to step in the mud that was right under your feet, your stiletto heel digging into the soft ground. walking around to the back of the car, you opened the trunk, taking out your louis vuitton suitcase, stopping in your tracks when you realised you didn’t want to put it on the muddy ground. “have you got something you can take these in on?” you questioned, your sister looking at you in disbelief.

“jesus christ doll, it’s goddamn mud! it’ll wash off, don’t get your panties in a twist.” you whipped your head around to the bellowing deep voice, eyes setting on him as he made his way over to the car. you moved one of your hands off the handle of the suitcase to your hip to jaunt it out at him. “oh i’m sorry! let me just put my bag, that’s probably worth more than your house, on the dirty ground. i take pride in my possessions Negan.” you retorted, your sister sighing in defeat, taking the bag from your hand and walking with it towards the house. you took your sunglasses off your face, Negan now stood right next to you, his arm leaning on the side of the car, looking at you. dressed in his usual brown cowboy hat, opened mustard yellow flannel shirt with a slightly off white tank top underneath, cargo trousers with a thick black belt to keep them up. the long, black leather pendant sitting just above his naval.

“i always love when the city mouse comes to visit, you ready for a week in hell, princess?” he laughed, rolling around a toothpick between his pearly white teeth. not that you had anything against the man before he married your sister but he absolutely revelled in mocking you whenever you came to stay, you imagined he saw you nothing more than a spoiled little girl, not understanding that you just preferred the finer things, even if you were a bit of a snob when it came to his way of life. not that you really cared for his opinion on you. you’d imagine that if circumstances had been different, you would have been attracted to such a handsome man, if only he’d change that usual cowboy get up for a nice three piece suit.

“if it isn’t the hayseed hick himself, how are you darling?” you threw your insults right back at him, this was just how you communicated with each other, both of you had tongues as sharp as swords. you grabbed your other bag from inside the trunk of the car, moving to take it to the house before his large hand grasped over yours that was on the leather handle. “let me take it, wouldn’t want you to break a nail, princess.” Negan laughed, before using his other hand to close the trunk firmly, causing you to jump slightly out of its way. you followed closely behind him, Negan taking wide strides, his hips moving slightly as his forearm muscles tensed from the weight of your bag in his hand.

“did you pack for the month or something? jesus christ.” he managed to huff out, even with how strong he was, it felt like you’d put rocks in your bag. “not all of us can just take a toothbrush and clean boxers on holiday with us, Negan. not that you’d know much about that, furthest you ever go is the farmers market, is it not?” you bit back, using your hands to push your hair back out of your face, having to put your sunglasses back over your eyes to avoid the harsh dust from getting into your retinas. you pushed past him, walking up the steps to enter the house, a small grimace on your face as you remembered how much your sisters place looked like Dorothy’s house from the Wizard of Oz.

it was honestly like you’d gone through a time machine back to the 1900’s, your sister didn’t even have a TV in the place, no wi-fi or good working signal. Negan followed up behind you, almost denting your case with how harshly he’d placed it near the staircase. “jeez, be careful with that would you!” you exclaimed, picking it back up off the ground, starting to make your way up the stairs, heels making it a difficult feat. Negan started to laugh at you struggling, causing you to turn around to give him a death glare. “i’m glad this is funny to you, most men would be gentlemanly and help a lady with her bags.”

“i would doll, but i don’t see a lady here.” he continued laughing at you, your mouth dropped wide at his rude statement, slightly growling you stomped the rest of the way up the stairs to your assigned room you always stayed in when you came here. god, you couldn’t wait for this week to be over but it was only the start.

“god honey, i know you don’t like the way they do things but this is your sister! she’s family, you have to respect their lifestyle. you are a guest in their house.” you rolled your eyes, your husband clearly wasn’t getting how annoyed and stressed out you were. “i’m honestly trying! you come here and get woken up by a damn cockerel at five am in the morning and see if your still saying the same thing then!” you crossed your arms over your chest with your phone held up to your ear, angrily pacing back and forth on the porch, the only place you could get one bar of signal. it was no use telling your husband the grievances as he’d only been here once and he always seemed to forget how hellish that week had been for him, how he sighed a breath of relief once you got on the plane home.

“you’ve only got a couple more days until you’ll be back here with me, i’ll set you up a appointment with the spa, give you some time to relax, okay?” you smiled, almost jumping with glee. “oh thank you! god knows i’ll need it after being around all these horrid animals.”

“goddamn it!” you turned your head towards a very angry Negan, the hosepipe he’d been using had sprayed all over the front of his clothes, causing the wet fabric to stick against his abdomen. he grabbed the bottom, whipping it over his head, using his strong hands to wring the water from the top. the veins in his arm were in full motion, you could see his muscles flexing, his toned abdomen now on display. the light of the sun caught his frame just right, the hot temperature making the light sheen of sweat mix with the water he’d just got all over his torso. you couldn’t take your eyes off his body, like a mirage in the desert. you’d never found yourself looking at him this way, his dirty mouth turning you off him from the very second he opened it but silent like this, he was a vision.

he could feel a pair of eyes on him, his gaze shooting up to look towards you. “honey? honey? are you still there?” you snapped back into reality, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in your throat. you turned your back to Negan with a quickness, heat reaching your cheeks as you realised you’d been caught gazing at him. “yeah, i’m here.” you answered your husband.

Negan softly chuckled to himself, already coming up with a rolodex of new material to tease you with.

two days, two days was all you had left to endure before you could take your leave and go back to new york. while you’d like to say you’d had a pleasant experience, that would be far from the truth. your sister had convinced you to do some grunt work while you’d been here and out of sheer boredom due to the lack of entertainment here, you’d begrudgingly agreed.

this had resulted in being bitten by a chicken when trying to retrieve its eggs, causing Negan to nearly die with laughter as you yelped out, a small trail of blood seeping from your finger. he’d took your delicate hand in his rough one to assess the damage, claiming you were being a big baby about it, giving a small kiss to it which made you freeze up at his inappropriate action. you felt it was more just to make you feel more embarrassed, knowing he loved to do things to antagonise you even further. you’d yanked your hand out of his, giving a small noise of disgust before stomping away from him to get a plaster.

you’d been given the more easy task of brushing the horses, claiming you didn’t want to get bitten again and your sister swore the horses were completely domesticated and not prone to acts of aggression.

you’d nearly finished when you saw Negan coming over to you, that small arrogance in the way he sauntered around this place. “any more injures happen today doll?” he asked, leaning on the barn doorway, that usual toothpick in his mouth. you sighed, dropping the brush back in the tack box and crossing your arms over your chest. “no, nothing for you to make fun of me today, i’m afraid.” he pushed himself off the doorframe, taking a couple steps towards you. “come on doll, let’s go for a ride. i need to go and get more firewood from the forest, live a little. i tell you, having the wind blowing past you when you are on the back of these magnificent animals, no feeling like it in the world.” your eyebrow raised a little, you were actually considering it for a good while.

you sighed, not like you had anything better to do. “okay fine! only if you do the actual work. i don’t feel like getting my hands dirty.” you agreed, letting him walk past you to get the riding saddles and strapping them to the horse. he did it with ease, stepping up with his large boot to get his foot into the stirrup, his long leg being thrown over the horses back. he put out his arm to help pull you up on the horse behind him, you’d hadn’t realised how close your groin would have been to his back with you sitting behind him, the feeling making your body betray you with how good it felt to be so close to him.

he started at a slow pace, guiding the horse out of the open stable door, setting off for the wood that you could see vaguely in the distance at the back of the farmland. you’d been holding onto the metal bar that was at the back of the saddle before Negan let out a laugh. “hold on doll!” your face contorted into confusion before Negan gently applied pressure into the horse with his leg causing it to accelerate into a fast gallop. you slightly squealed, taking your hands off the bar and threw your arms around his torso, nearly in death grip, scared of coming off the animal with how much bouncing around you were doing. your hands linked around the front of him, you could feel the hard abdomen muscles underneath his tank top, you knew he’d done this on purpose to either annoy you or try and get you to come off the horse.

the leather underneath you kept rubbing against your core, the bouncing causing your clit to keep hitting the seat, a small wetness gathering on the material of your panties underneath your flowy dress. well, at least horse riding was good for something, you thought to yourself.

you’d finally got into the wood, Negan bringing the horse to a stop, dismounting with you still on the back, tying the reign to a small stump of a tree. “can you help me get off please?” you asked, looking down at how far you were above the ground, getting a little nervous at getting off by yourself. “move your legs to the side and jump down, don’t worry doll, i’ll catch you.” he reassured you, his arms coming out, his fingers moving in a ‘come here’ motion, that stupid grin on his face at your obvious nervousness.

you brought your right leg to the other side of the horse, your palms digging into the saddle, you made no move to jump off, slightly worried about Negan actually catching you. he huffed, grabbing you by your thighs, causing you to let out a slight scream before he pulled you off the horse, his hands sliding from your thighs, trailing up your bodies sides as you slipped down from the height.

your legs were now wide open, your feet finally meeting the ground, Negan’s hands still placed on your waist as you looked up at him. you realised he was still touching you, before you pushed his hands off you, smoothing out your dress. “thank you but i was just about to jump down myself, i didn’t need you to manhandle me, farmer boy.” you snapped, walking away from him to pet the animal. he slightly chuckled, while moving to grab the axe from the satchel that was strapped to the horse.

“sure you were, princess.”

you’d been here for around half a hour, helping Negan by putting the chunks of firewood in the bag on the back of the horse. your hands were red from gripping the wood, trying to avoid getting any splinters, causing you to be quite slow at packing it away.

“you do know, you could go a bit faster doll, we’ll be out here until nightfall if not.” you rolled your eyes at his taunting. “i don’t want any further injuries thank you.”

he growled, obviously annoyed at how unwilling you were to pick up the pace. “look, you might be able to sit around doing absolutely nothing back in your fancy palace at home but i’d rather not get my ass chomped by whatever creature could be lurking in this place, so just pick up the pace, please.” you scoffed, turning around to face him, he had the axe in both hands, his hip slightly twisted to face you. “no, you look! i don’t know what kind of impression you’ve gathered in your head of me, but.. yes i don’t do much work, yes i’d rather play the pretty housewife than go out and bend over backwards for work. if that makes me lazy, then so be it. i can’t help i have a taste for a easier way of life.”

it was now his turn to scoff at you, he threw the axe down to the ground, taking large footsteps towards you, you back yourself up against a tall tree behind you, the sharp bark of it digging into your skin a little. he towered over you before bringing his face closer to yours, his arm just above and slightly to the side of your head, resting on the tree.

“you mean your pretty little life of faking orgasms for your dear clueless husband? faking pleasure so you can continue to use him for his precious fucking money, that the easier way of life you are talking about?” he taunted, you screwed your face up in anger, how dare he?!

“excuse me? how dare you make your false assumptions about my marriage?! who do you think you are?!” you shouted out at him, taking your hands off the bark of the tree to try and push him away from you. not even moving him a inch due to his strong frame, he grabbed your wrists, forcing your hands above your head, digging them into the rough surface.

“oh give me a fucking break sweetheart, you think i didn’t notice the way you looked at me the other day. looked like a damn fucking dog in heat, you need a proper man like me to teach you some fucking manners. the way you look down at me from your ivory tower, i’ve kept the peace for your sisters sake but now i’m getting fucking tired of it, princess.”

“i don’t know what the hell you are talking about! like i’d ever look at your hillbilly ass like that, Negan, you must be joking!” you slowly laughed, truth not really following your words and he could tell. he gave a gravely laugh back, he moved his hand off your wrist, now applying more pressure with the remaining one so you couldn’t move. he moved his other under the skirt of your dress, fingertips brushing your inner thigh.

“let’s take a wager doll, if your panties ain’t fucking soaking for me right now, i’ll let you go. if they are? well, you’re going to get a lesson in basic southern hospitality from good ol’ Negan, let’s see shall we?” you tried to come up with some sort of smart mouth retort, the pure lust in his tone had you silent. his fingertips finally moving over the lace of your panties, his mouth moving to a wide grin when he did indeed find that the material was absolutely soaking wet.

“well, well, well? would you look at that?” he moved the lace to the side, now running his fingers up and down your folds, his fingertips now slick with your juices.

“don’t fucking flatter yourself, farmer boy. i just haven’t had any in months.”

the hand he used to hold your arms quickly pulled off, a slight slap to your cheek, the skin underneath turning red at the motion before he grasped your chin roughly.

“you still never fucking learn do you, you fucking slut. wet over your sisters husband, ain’t so prim and proper now, are you? now i think the only way to finally shut you up is to stuff that pretty fucking mouth with my dick, get on your fucking knees.”

his voice dark, you swallowed hard to be rid of the lump in your throat. he whipped you around so his back was now against the tree, pushing down on your shoulders to get you to your knees, his large frame now looking even more scary looking up at him. he unbuckled his belt, undoing the button of his cargos to pull out his impressively large and already hard cock.

you cried out, small tears leaving your eyes at his size, it was bigger than you’d had before and the thought of it being inside you, scared you to death while also causing your panties to get even wetter.

he laughed, grasping your hair roughly into a painful, makeshift ponytail. “keep those tears coming princess, just makes you even sexier, down there on your knees for me, now open that fucking slutty mouth, i’ve got a present for you.” he grasped the base of his dick, his fingers pulling your hair even more as he guided his cock towards your mouth. you reluctantly opened as wide as you could, the salty precum meeting your tastebuds.

“goddamn! ain’t that the prettiest sight i’ve ever seen!” Negan grunted out, his hips rocking forward to force more of his cock down your throat, the whimpers coming from you making him hiss in pleasure. your spit gathered at the base of him, getting caught in the soft hair there. he was enjoying the sight of you softly crying on your knees for him.

he kept himself buried at the back of your throat, keeping you struggling to breathe, coughing and gagging around his length, Negan throwing his head back at how good your mouth felt wrapped around him like he was. your mouth bobbed up and down against him, you tongue tracing the underside of his length, as he rolled his hips, looking down at you, savouring seeing you completely obedient to his control.

he pulled himself out of your mouth, finally letting you breathe, your throat and jaw burning with the force he’d had held you at.

he forced you up by your hair, moving you over to a large, jagged rock, your back forced against the cold surface.

“spread those pretty legs for me, slut. i want to see how wet you are for me.”

you moved your legs open for him, your feet coming to rest on the side of the rock, knees bent. Negan pulled your dress up to bunch around your torso, he yanked the top of it down, exposing your tits to the cold forest air. he grasped one in his hand, flicking your nipple, giving it a harsh slap afterwards. you yelped at the pleasurable pain of it, your breathing becoming ragged and unsteady. moving your panties to the side again as he had before, he gathered saliva and spat right on your core, the dirtiness of the action causing you to moan. giving a slap to your pussy, you whimpered at the pain that shot through your chest, head thrown back before he threw your leg over his shoulder, pulling your head back by your hair to meet his eyes.

“none of that doll, i want you to look at me while i stretch this pretty pussy out. look at it squeezing for me, begging for me.”

Negan hardened his grasp on your leg, holding on to it, he released your hair to run a finger up your pussy, your juices collecting on them as he bought them up to his mouth, sucking on them.

“you taste fucking divine princess, i’d eat this pretty little pussy all day but you don’t deserve that do you? you need putting in your place, this ain’t meant to be enjoyable for you, now is it?”

he lined up at your opening, letting no time go to waste before he entered you, filling you up to the hilt. you softly moaned when his hips snapped against yours, tightening yourself around his length, the pleasure nearly too much for you to handle. your back scraping against the uncomfortable rock, knowing you’d have cuts afterwards but you were too focused on the situation at hand.

“goddamn princess, absolutely squeezing me, this is what you wanted isn’t it. you may not respect my lifestyle but you couldn’t wait for me to teach you a fucking lesson could you?”

you could only moan, his hand that wasn’t on your leg coming down to wrap around your throat, thumb pressing down on your windpipe, restricting your breathing. it would have scared you, but in a funny way you trusted Negan to guide you through the experiment of a intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure.

his thrusts built up in not only speed but aggression as well, your body contorted into a curve as he pulled you to meet your lips in a rough kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, biting on your lower lip as his hand still wrapped your throat. your arms gripping onto his broad shoulders, pressing down your nails into his tanned skin.

“i can feel how wet you are, you slut. come on princess, i want to feel you soak my fucking cock.”

your mind was hazy, absolutely cock-drunk from this man, never had you had such pleasure in your marriage, never realising how much the thought of being used would light such a unknown fire inside you.

“nega-negan i’m going to cum, please, can i cum?” you begged, your voice almost stopped as he rammed into you, the pressure on your throat causing your begging to come out as a broken set of words. the thought of something or someone coming along and seeing your sisters husband and you in such a precarious position made your mind run at a thousand miles a hour.

“go on you slut, come all over my cock, i wanna see those pretty eyes roll back into that empty fucking head of yours.”

that was all the permission you needed as you let yourself go, your body trembling, overwhelming pleasure as the shame of what you just allowed your sisters husband to do to you washed over your brain. it was the first time you’d ever squirted in your life, your juices dripping over Negan’s cock as he followed close behind you to his own release.

he came himself with a loud grunt, small whimper mixed in as well. “yeah, let me fill that tight pussy up, want myself dripping down your thighs for the rest of the day princess.”

he let go of your throat, you both trying to catch your breath, your task being harder than his as his choking had almost cut off your circulation. he leaned against your leg, watching as his seed started to slowly spill out of you, laughing at the sight.

“that is fucking gorgeous, look at that! have you learnt your lesson doll?” you weakly nodded, your eyes meeting his.

maybe you could stretch to a couple more visits a year.

[whore4batfam]

Bruce takes Steph to the first big Rich People Event

Bruce kept one eye on the buildings as they passed and another on the pair of stilettos she had on her lap.

“You’ll kill someone,” he told her. “Probably yourself.”

Or him, he noted, watching her grip the stilettos, straps first. 

“I will not!” she protested. The razor-like edges dangled from her fingertips. “I’m graceful, like a gazelle.”

“Which are located in?”

“Australia,” said confidently.

Alfred cleared his throat in the front seat. 

 “C’mon, Bruce,” Stephanie pleaded, “I need the extra two inches.”

He cast his eye doubtfully upon the shoes. He began, “Those are six—”

“I’ll look like a kid next to you!” she protested. “There could be super models there. Naomi could be there.” 

“Naomi is in Paris.”

“You KNOW where she is?!” Stephanie’s shriek filled the car. “She TOLD you?!”

“They’re all in Paris,” he said, irritatedly and pointedly not putting his hand to his ear. “And you are a kid.”

“I’m thirteen,” she reminded him. “I’m a teenager.” 

“That’s right,” he agreed. “A teenager in danger of a broken ankle.” 

“I’ve practiced,” she told him stubbornly. “If you don’t let me wear these, I’ll wear Doc Martens next time.”

“That’s fine.” 

“And they’ll be really muddy.”

“If that’s how you want to wear them.” 

“How about this,” she said, recognizing that she needed to switch tactics, “I wear these, OR I can wear the ruby nose ring that your great-aunt brought back from India. It’s here in my pocket right now.” She stuck her hand in her pocket, and a jangly sound came from it. She met his gaze. “I’ll ram it through my nose and get blood all over these seats. Your choice, Bruce.” 

[kayla47]

I wish I was able to go to see this but it’s just a bit too far 😢. Have to cross my fingers that it goes on tour.

[sassyfrassboss]

Yikes on the cracked heels with Meghan on those heels. Use foot file and file that away!

Yeah...

So the rumor at the time was that they were living apart and Meghan was living in the country, hence the muddy stilettos. I think this was when they/she was rumored to be living at the home in the Cotswold's. Harry was said to be living at KP most of the time. There was something about them arriving separately a few times and that they were seen leaving in opposite directions.

But they did lease the home because they sued The Sun because of photos taken. This is the home where they were said to be mad that the Wales didn't come visit but it was not child friendly I think? It was in a book I believe.

[unsanctitude]

Holy shiiiit I love Janus' concept and design!!! Do you have any silly fun facts about them? (Feel free to yap as much as you like btw !!!

YAY im glad you like JANUS !!!!!!

since he's kind of a newborn i havent had much time to accumulate fun facts about the guy, he's essentially still in his larval stage. but i do have a few!

his natural hair color is purple but is turning into a muddy greyish-green due to excessive magic exposure! he also once had a normal skin color but he is now a lovely shade of green

the rubber gloves he has on are enchanted and is what allows him to operate, its all he needs to sort of reach in there and move stuff around hehe

you can only discern this in one pic but he does wear high heels/stilettos all the time cause why not ��� he's become so good at sleepwalking in them

[alovethatkilled]

Lovely interview 🫶🏼 her meeting Helen and saying she loves CTM is incredible because I’d be awe by her too. Then again if I saw Laura I’d also be petrified. Something about pretty women make me turn into the smallest human being ever and just blush all over.

[sparklyshakespeare]

okay i have to ask you to talk about don john i’m so interested…

just ramble about him

EEE OH OH YAYYY i love to ramble and i love the most slayful shakespeare character of all time, ms. don john himself!!!

here is a real instagram DM a dear dear friend of mine received from me to preface:

OOKAY i really really love him so much i don’t know where to start! i think one of the cool things about don john is hundreds of thousands of actors have played him, and yet it seems every single actor has a different interpretation - i know because i’ve watched almost every much ado bootleg available on youtube including the shaky ones filmed at the back of a high school auditorium :-) you can play him angsty or emo or shy or really very seriously scary or slayful and sparkly (guess which one my DJ was when i played him this june)!! i think that his lack of lines (comparatively to other shakespeare villains) and somewhaaat muddy/unclear motivations gives the actor complete power to create their own don john. THAT is awesome to me and represents one of my favorite parts of acting! also love that he just shows up and causes problems, icon behavior! yes he is the drama but he looks good doing it and isn’t that what really matters? don john would eat on RPDR untucked.

i think what he lacks in literal number line wise, he makes up in POWER - some of his lines (when he’s not being the cattiest person alive and patient zero for the sassy man apocalypse) just really hit you deep! especially from a queer perspective, which is a whole other thing in it of itself that a lot of people smarter than me have written great analyses (if that’s the plural of analysis) on! but there are so many smart shakespeare hot takes its time for SPARKLY SLAYFUL shakespeare hot takes all of them are gay and should be costumes in pink and tulle and sparkles and stilettos all the time ooookayyy

alsoooooooo i admit a chunk of it is sentimental - i met a lot of my closest friends while rehearsing for much ado, and it was my first shakespeare i did! so i feel like i have to thank DJ for that 💗 i got to find myself through him! :)

to conclude (which sounds wayyy too much like what i’d say as a cop out when starting my final paragraphs in elementary school) i will quote one of my directors from much ado: “don john’s pronouns are fabu/lous”

[sorcerous-caress]

Your Tav is so pretty omfg - Shadowheart anon

AAA thank you so much <3333 i really like them and had fun making them pretty. You know those videogamea that have characters dress sexly despite how unrealistic it is? My durge saw that and thought oh makes sense and just took it as a life manual, their clothes, armour and heels are a huge problem and always gets them armour penalty and disadvantage on throws but they're so vain they refuse to fight without looking pretty.

"My magic just doesn't work otherwise," they lie, blatantly, whenever questioned on their revealing clothes. Tripping over as they try to walk through a muddy swamp in stiletto heels.

They're kinda dumb ngl, but they act so overconfident and condescending that no one questions them, making it everyone else's problem. Absolutely can't read a room, assumes different things when someone is being subtle. They're not a good person, but they are entertaining. Slapped Gale's hand during their first meeting and kissed the mindflayer in the ship crash.

Betrayed Zevlor then went back to the tieflings camp just to tell him that they bertayed them like it's the weather. Saved a guy in the grove just so they can kill him themselves, kinda murder hungry as any other durge but only doing it for "the vibes"

Surprisingly strong like they can hold someone down and overpower them. Multieclassed into fighter because they always feared losing their magic one day since anything that comes easily never lasts long. They mask their fears with arrogance and pride, never showing their weakness or emotions and instead taking this whole "barbie like" persona except it's murder and fashion.

Not smart but wise when needed.

Have these pics of their failures <3

Also Karlach being pretty

[master-john-uk]

Two restaurants that I know and love: The Old Bank, Westerham, Kent - and The Brace of Pheasants, Plush, Dorset are both in their respective regional finals for Best Restaurant category of the "Muddy Stiletto Awards".

I had never heard of Muddy Stilettos, or the Muddy Awards until a few weeks ago. When I first saw their logo, I thought it was something to do with my more "unusual" interests which I rarely write about on Tumblr these days!

Muddy Stilettos promote quality local businesses in 28 counties of England. Apparently, they have been operating for ten years. Now I have learnt more, it sounds like a wonderful idea and I wish them all the best. (Although I am still not convinced that a "Muddy Award" is good name to use for advertising two of the best restaurants that I know!)

Hever Castle and Gardens are also in the finals of the Muddy Awards for the Best Family Visitor Attraction category in Kent.

[cara-turner]

location. ⁺ - greenhouse.

“sooo - what exactly are we looking for ? chamomile, peppermint, or some good ol’ ginger?” cara drawled, her tone playful as she trailed behind shaw, the pointed heels of her red-bottom stilettos sinking slightly into the muddy ground with every step. comfort clearly wasn’t the priority; even in a place as unpolished, she clung to the remnants of the person she’d been in the outside world. silk button-ups, tailored trousers, and sharp heels were her armor - a stubborn nod to a life that now felt like a faded photograph. cara glanced down at her shoes with a faint smirk, shaking her head. "pretty sure vogue skipped the feature on red soles stomping through mud. maybe i should send them an update ? ” a wry chuckle slipped past her lips.

cara’s fingers brushed idly over the sad excuse for potted plants scattered around, her touch more curious than caring. “you know, when i mentioned nausea, it was less about a stomach bug and more about the fact that living in a hippie-dippy frat house wasn’t exactly on my bingo card.” not that any of this was what any sane person here wished for. she shot a sideways glance, her green eyes gleaming with mischief. “patchouli overload - can only take so much of that before I want to barf.” she turned then, leaning just slightly closer, a sly grin tugging at her lips. “so... got anything stronger than herbs, doc ? ” her tone lingered somewhere between teasing and genuine inquiry, the glint in her eye daring a reply.

@solidgrovnd . // closed starter.

[scott1984fp2]

The top 10 best places to live in Northamptonshire in 2025, according to Muddy Stilettos https://www.daventryexpress.co.uk/community/the-top-10-best-places-to-live-in-northamptonshire-in-2025-according-to-muddy-stilettos-4838307

[petnews2day]

Beat the ban! Cornwall's dog-friendly beaches for daytime walks - Cornwall | Muddy Stilettos - Muddy Stilettos

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/6O2Rl

Beat the ban! Cornwall's dog-friendly beaches for daytime walks - Cornwall | Muddy Stilettos - Muddy Stilettos

Beat the ban! Cornwall’s dog-friendly beaches for daytime walks – Cornwall | Muddy Stilettos  Muddy Stilettos

See full article at https://petn.ws/6O2Rl #DogNews

[belamuse]

Here’s to the gritty, truth-seeking goddesses who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty.

Here’s to the brave, bada** females who have blasted through a nightmare of shit to be standing here today.

Here’s to the earthy mamas who think stilettos are a sick f*cking joke—

The luscious ladies who love feeling the raw earth beneath their bare feet, and bow down proudly to the supple, winding curves of their thick, fleshy hips.

~

Here’s to the creative vixens who breathe their sun-soaked, moonlit, windswept, star-dusted dreams to life, every damn day—rain or shine.

Here’s to the wise women who, time and time again, have chosen their own hearts.

I applaud you, with every fiber of my being. I honor you.

I am you.

We are strong and confusing, complicated and powerful, magical and maddening—we are meant for so much more.

We will never be happy stuffed in a sparkling white kitchen with a floral apron, a sleek bun, and carefully applied pink liquid lipstick to complete the wax mask of our fake smiles, playing the role of perfect wife or perfect girlfriend or perfect mother.

Our hearts will choke. Our spirits will scream.

We will never be happy sitting in a grey office working 9 to 5, watching the clock tick slowly, while our souls shrivel to the buzzing sound of fluorescent lights, unable to breathe in the fresh, muddy scent of gusty winds and the frantic, jeweled sweetness of budding cherry blossoms.

We will never be okay sipping champagne, trying on haute couture, and talking about ways to make our asses skinny and recipes for dinner parties and how to get a man to love us.

We don’t really give a damn about any of that—

We want to talk about soul. About dripping truth. About magic. About death. About struggle. About the world’s heartbreaking pain.

We wanna stand in the billowing breeze and decipher wise whispers of the wind as it roars through each singing strand of our thirsty, messy hair.

Yes.

But, for a painfully long time, we have denied who we really are.

We have tried and tried and tried to squeeze our wild wings and paint-splattered hearts into the cramped plastic molds of what we “should” be.

How miraculously we have failed.

Why do we rip ourselves up into sad, feathery pieces, trying so hard to slide into pretty little lives that, quite frankly, don’t even appeal to us?

Normal won’t cut it— extraordinary is what we’re here for.

We are meant to merge with the moon, cry with the rain, rise with the tides, and shine with every goddamn slice of shimmering yellow sun.

We are meant to run through crowded streets, with love in our hearts and tangerine scarves streaming through our fingertips as we dance to the sobbing drum of the world’s crying tears.

We are meant to make art that grows gritty wings and inspires sad, closed hearts to break the fuck open.

We are meant to stick out our tongues in a fierce lion’s breath in the most unexpected moments—

Rawwwr!

Our dreams and visions and destinies must come first.

Always.

Because we aren’t here to play small; to be polite, people-pleasing pretty plastic barbie dolls with empty, lifeless hearts—we are here to make waves, to chase dreams, to stand in the blazing fires of truth—and we know it.

We are here to live from the harrowing depths of our souls.

Why deny it anymore?

Let’s reach inside our supple skin and taste the thick river of bubbling magic that pulses through our veins like rubies.

Let’s shed the suffocating lives that were never meant to be ours— the lives we’ve brainwashed ourselves into tolerating, but are slowing killing our souls.

It’s time to burn, baby, burn!

Let’s make a pact with our hearts—a vow to listen that inner spark of magic, of truth, of delicious fire that cannot be denied for a minute more.

Let us promise now—

To honor who we really are.

To be forces of light, of love, of sacred power.

To let our star-dust spirits rise— and soar and soar and soar!

Extraordinary flows through our veins. Normal won’t cut it.

We are meant for so much more.

Badaass, truth-lovin’, dream-weaving sisters, let’s stop smacking our spirits down and squeezing ourselves into suffocating roles that will never satisfy our thirsty, roaring souls—

We won’t fit.

We aren’t meant to.

Our wings won’t slide through small doors. We are meant for so much more—

Our dreams and visions and destinies must come first.

Always.

Please, answer the rain-drenched, whispering wolf calls of your wild soul.

Do not let your wings lie sticky and suffocated, in a sad clump on the floor.

Do not let your vibrant spirit wither into a colorless grey existence.

Do not let your jeweled destiny lie dormant and dead.

Do not live the life you think you “should.”

F*** should—

Live the life that makes your heart beat louder, the life that sets your bones sweetly on fire, the life you can’t stand not living—

Answer the blossoming calls of your wild soul!

Go, now—

Into the lush, emerald forest of who you really are.

Find yourself.

Discover your gifts.

Share your gritty magic with the world.

Follow the promising path of your courageous destiny.

Go—

Now.

Do not settle for an empty half-life.

Do not settle for good enough.

Do not settle for anything less than exquisite or extraordinary.

Oh, sweet wise, wild woman— do not settle—

At all.

[mrscoulter5ever]

Double Dog Dare You Chapter 2

Amber had never been more grateful she picked the outfit she did as she ran alongside her fellow initiates, watching the two girls from Amity and Abnegation struggling not to trip over their long skirts, while two of the girls from Erudite almost broke an ankle from wobbling as their stiletto pumps sunk into the muddy ground. She watched wide-eyed as the Dauntless born began jumping onto the still-moving train cars.

Hell, she thought drily, I always loved reading about the Boxcar Children as a kid, I guess now's my chance to be one. Hurling herself into the train, she groaned as the slammed against the opposite wall and began huffing and puffing to catch her breath, her cheeks still bright red from the exertion and the wind whipping at her face.

She watched some of the other initiates greeting each other and a pang of loneliness struck her. She wished for a brief moment that she had Lila here to talk to. Focus on getting into Dauntless, Amber. Then you can start to make friends.

She observed a few of the other initiates jumping from the train cars, the Dauntless born doing so with such a natural ease, they appeared as dark angels descending from the sky. She took a running jump herself, landing far less gracefully on the gravel-coated roof, with an audible "oof".

Amber quickly determined weakness would need to be concealed within Dauntless, so she got up and brushed herself off as quickly as she could, hoping no one had noticed her. Instead, they all seemed to be distracted, staring at the body lying on the ground just outside the roof, its young limbs contorted in sickening directions. Amber was glad she had skipped breakfast this morning.

"Listen up, initiates!" A voice bellowed. Everyone turned to look at the middle-aged, dark-skinned man standing in front of them. "My name is Max, the leader of the Dauntless faction! I want to commend you on your courage thus far, but your journey is not over yet, initiates! To enter into Dauntless, you must take one last leap of bravery - off this very roof!"

Gasps and whispers could be heard. 

"You can't be serious!" protested one of the Erudite girls, trying to conceal her swelling ankle.

"Oh but I am," Max smiled with a glint in his eye. "In fact, to show how serious I am, why don't you go first?"

The Erudite girl's eyes widened, trying to conceal her wobbling ankle as she walked toward the roof.

Slowly, hesitantly, she jumped off the ledge, her piercing screams echoing through the minds of her classmates before they eventually stopped.

Part of Amber was absolutely terrified at what mystery lay beyond the roof, but part of her was also jealous that the Erudite girl went first, thus securing more attention in the eyes of Dauntless.

Well, she sure as hell wasn't going to be shown up again. Stalking towards the roof with a facade of confidence, Amber eyed Max apprehensively before flipping herself over the edge, squeezing her eyes shut as she went down. Whatever end awaited her, she would rather find out when she got there.

Her heart skipped a beat when she bounced up and down on something. A net. Oh my god a net. Of course, she exhaled, eyes wide from the shock.

She was in for another shock, as she rolled off the net to find herself face to face with perhaps the hottest, fittest man she had ever seen. "What's your name, initiate," he barked in a bored yet deep drawl that caused her heart to skip just a tiny bit more.

Amber thought for a minute. Her parents, in true straightforward Candor fashion, had given her that name on account of her piercing amber eyes. But she wasn't in Candor anymore, and her name needed to reflect that. She recalled how Lila had once told her that her eyes were honey colored, like a lion's.

"Ariel," Amber replied, still wide-eyed. She heard somewhere it meant lion, and felt it was fitting for her newer, braver life at Dauntless. A life where she jumped onto moving trains and off of roofs. "My name is Ariel."

"That's a stupid name," the blonde man scoffed, immediately dispelling any attraction Amber had felt towards him. What a jackass.

She scoffed in return, raising an eyebrow. "Oh really? What's your name? I bet it's so much better," she snarked back, rolling her eyes. She watched curiously as the fellow Dauntless members behind him froze in shock.

He leaned in close to her with an evil glint in his eyes. "Eric. You'd better remember that name because I am going to personally ensure that your new life here is a living hell."

"Eric?" she inquired, with a seemingly innocently curious face.

"Hm?" he replied with a feigned air of nonchalance belied by the speck of intrigue in his gaze.

"You'd better remember to use some Tic-Tacs next time," she smirked, reveling in how his face burned beet red and veins started popping out of his head. Hmm, I wonder what other head has veins popping out of - where the hell did that come from, Am- I mean Ariel??

He reached his arm out towards her but before he could manage to seize her, two of the other Dauntless members held him back.

"You're going to regret ever opening your mouth, initiate," Eric said, while she grabbed the can of breath freshener she kept in her back pocket and sprayed it into his open mouth, gleefully enjoying the way his eyes bulged out of his sockets.

She decided enough was enough - for now, anyway, and backed up against the other stone wall while the rest of the initiates proceeded to fall down into the net.

Max then led them to their coed dorm rooms (with separate showers, thankfully) where they proceeded to get dressed into their assigned Dauntless uniforms. 

Ariel stared dismally at how awkward she felt in the militarized black jacket and determined that she was going to take every opportunity to resolve that problem.

Eric came storming into their room with a special glare directed just for her as he proceeded to whisk them away for training, informing them along the way that only the top 15 initiates, including the Dauntless born, would make it into the faction. Ariel wasn't exactly shocked. She figured some sort of arrangement like this must be in place in all the factions; after all, the factionless existed for a reason.

Steeling herself for a long morning of training under Eric, Ariel began to watch him closely as he demonstrated how to handle a gun, trying desperately not to let her mind wander to how the muscles in his back flexed or wondering how he would feel if she handled his...gun.

She mimicked his stance and shot a few rounds, happy that they landed in the target, but frustrated that even her closest shot was still a few rings from the center.

"Figures you wouldn't be able to get anything right starting on your first day," Eric muttered from his position at an uncomfortably close distance from her. "Here," he said brusquely, roughly moving her limbs into a better position. She shot again and managed to hit the center twice, her skin burning where he had touched her, yet stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his help.

"A thank you seems to be in order, initiate," Eric smirked. 

Ariel took a deep breath, as though she were mustering up the courage to thank him, watching as his malicious grin grew wider. "Eric," she drawled, "go to hell."

Eric snarled as he grabbed her arm with a death grip, dragging her towards the as of yet unused ring in the center of the room.

"Everyone, listen up!" Eric barked with a commanding voice that drew the attention of every ear in the room. "Since Ariel has taken it upon herself here to disrespect Dauntless authority, she is going to have to put her money where her mouth is by being the first initiate to fight today - against me."

Ariel's eyes narrowed. Unbeknowst to Eric, or anyone in Dauntless for that matter, Ariel had had an idea for a long time now which faction she was going to choose. She had snuck out a few times at night to watch the Dauntless security guards, many of whom would engage in some play fighting during slow patrols, and would mimic the moves she witnessed at home, practicing over and over until she had mastered some of even the most complex fighting techniques.

Eric was expecting her to be some fragile initiate who would cower to his every whim after a broken bone or two. He was quickly going to learn that Ariel was not someone to be trifled with. If he wanted a fight, a fight he was going to get.

Eric began circling her on the mat, a sadistic look in her eye that convinced Ariel her best tactic was to start off playing cat and mouse, and feigning the initial fragility he expected from an initiate in order to wear him out and catch him off guard.

However, when he charged towards her with a punch that would have meant at least a week in the infirmary with a concussion, Ariel decided she could no longer keep dodging his jabs, and grabbed his fist, flipping him over her head and slamming him onto the mat. She couldn't help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction as she saw Eric staring up at her in total shock, the most vulnerable emotion she had yet to see the man display. 

He grinned as he sent a kick up towards her that she easily jumped away from, allowing him an opening to get back onto his feet. From there, he tackled her to the ground faster than she was expecting, and while he jabbed an elbow into her ribs that caused her to wince with a loud exhale, she felt something long and hard brushing up against her leg, her eyes widening in realization.

"This fight isn't nearly over," he whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver. 

She smiled seductively, leaning towards his lips as if to kiss him, watching his eyes grow wider as the...thing brushing against her leg grew larger. "Eric," she breathed huskily, "go. to. hell."

And with that she stood up and walked out of the ring, leaving one of the strongest men in Chicago lying on his back still fully aroused, with the worst case of blue balls he had ever felt.

Unbeknownst to Ariel, Eric smiled a real, genuine smile. At last, he had a worthy adversary.