#and it seemed like it will work out and was a better option

[loreandletters]

The most important fact is that Jake’s is fine. He is a-okay with being left in a haunted cemetery. All alone. In the middle of the night. He’s also pretty poor, and since fear is costly, being fine and being is his only option. 

Ghosts? Psha! Try looking at his bills, those are scary. Eyeless ghouls? Good thing it doesn’t cost much to scribble out a talisman or sprinkle some salt. Some wannabe witches trying to summon the devil? Not on his fucking watch! Those candles leave a mess, don’t they know that?

People look down on cleaning, but doesn’t anyone realize that the sanitation department runs the world? Garbage men keep the streets clean, ushers man the stores, and Jake weeds and washes graves. What better honor is there than guarding the deceased from moss and mold? No better money too.

Jake’s lamp flickers as he pulls up another weed. 

“Money, money, money,” Jake sings, forcing himself not to rush, “must be funny, in a rich man’s world.”

The grave is illuminated poorly, the mossed over letters just barely spelling out ‘here lies Jasmine Helma, the sweetest wife a man could ask for.’ It’s also just barely enough to see the half-screaming ghostly face sticking out of the stone. Jake hums patiently, plucking more weeds that are growing at the foot of the grave.

80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year. Jake chants, the mantra beating religiously within his cranium. The numbers aren’t exactly accurate, but what rich man counts pennies? (he also heard somewhere that rhymes help ward off misfortune) 80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year.

Yeah, he hasn’t been here more than six months, so what? He makes it a year, that’s a six figure salary! All for picking weeds and scrubbing stone (along with the occasional security). He doesn’t need a degree or some nepotism (both of which he doesn’t have), just a spine of steel. Honestly, he doesn’t have that either, but for 160k he does. He’ll fucking sprout wings and fly if they asked him to.

….Jake’s really poor.

Not for long though, he promised himself.

“I’ll kill you!” the ghoulish face shrieked, mouth cranked inhumanly wide, unmoving yet still speaking, “you cheating manwhore! I’ll kill you!”

“I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay,” Jake sings. Ghosts like these forget they’re dead, and only repeat what the last thing they said before they died. It happens the longer they stick around. Their looks fade, their voices lose any recognizable lilt, leaving them with a dragging, wretched voice that is indistinguishable from any other ghost. 

“I’ll kill you! You cheating manwhore! I’ll kill you!”

 “Ain’t that sad?” Jake wasn’t shivering out of fear, he was just cold. Who cared if she was screaming? That wouldn't pay his rent, picking these weeds would. 

“I’ll kill you!”

“And still there never seems to be, a single penny left for me,” Jake fixed his flickering lamp, hand dipping into the bucket of soap and water to fetch the sponge.

“You cheating manwhore!”

“That’s too bad.” Jake began to scrub. He scrubbed around the headstone, around the ghost, and when he was done, everything but that one spot was sparkling clean. The night chilled his drying hands but Jake muscled on. 80 bucks an hour, 560 a night, 3,300 a week, 13,00 a month, 160,000 a year.

“Cleaning again, Jacob dear?”

“If I got me a wealthy man, I wouldn’t have to work at all,” James' voice immediately became louder, singing now ringing across the graveyard, “I’d fool around and have a ball!”

The floating annoyance chuckled, “if that’s a yes to my offer, I’m afraid you’ll have to be more clear.”

It was a month ago now that he’d chased off the amateur witches. They were ambitious kids, and like all kids, stupid. Breaking into a graveyard to play with powers beyond their control, who does that? Without Jake they likely would have died. Unfortunately, they were skilled idiots. Skilled enough to summon something, just not a demon. Jake isn’t a witch so he can’t say what exactly, only that it isn’t one of hells many soldiers. That’s why the thing calls him by a fake name. He may not know much, but he isn’t stupid enough to be giving out his real name to anyone who asks. For some reason It’s stuck in the graveyard, and because Jake’s only job is to clean the graveyard not fix the graveyard, that isn’t his problem. It’s just another thing he needs to ignore.

“Money, money, money, must be funny, in a rich man’s world!” Jake has been singing this song for the past hour, stuck on a couple verses because he doesn’t actually know the whole thing, and he’s too scared right now to think of another. He’s fine though! Don’t lose it now, Jake. Remember, 80 bucks an hour, 160,000 a year - keep your eyes on the prize!

The next grave has a ghoul hiding behind it, the monstrous thing shivering as it tries to take refuge in the shadow of the headstone. They’re relatively harmless so long as you don’t start chasing them. Just to be sure, he has a shitty talisman that he’d haggaled a priest for, though to be honest he probably shouldn’t have bothered. They tend to feed on happier victims. 

It’s their form that unnerves most people; twig like limbs, far too long for the small torso they’re connected to, with muscles all distorted and twisted. Freaks folks out. Luckily, they're more shadow than physical, so he doesn't worry about stepping on them. He begins his process again, picking weeds and trashing rubbish. Must have been the teenagers again. Don’t they have anything better to do with their time?

“Money, money, money,” Jake sings, loud as he can. The not-demon thing trails behind him. 

“Oh Jacob, I could give you money and so much more,” the being takes on a young man's form tonight, chest exposed by an open shirt, the body underneath toned, skin shining in the moonlight as It lays back in the air. Confident in the image It’s made, as if Jake will fall over at the sight alone. “All you have to do is ask.”

Thick manicured hands run across the shapeshifted body in a lustful fashion. Tonight, the face is sharp and beautiful, wet lips and curly hair, with green eyes as sparkling as gems. There’s a pout on his lips. Last shift the thing had taken on a woman, and before that a large wolf, and before that, a cripple - anything to pull his heartstrings. Friendship, romance, companionship - what will it take for Jake to say yes? There’s only one answer, of course.

Money. Money is why he’s here. Best part? This job will get him all his desires without asking him for his soul. He’ll pay off his debts, his rent, his brother's medical bills and he’ll get to be alive to enjoy it. 

So, Jake grits his teeth and bears it. The ghosts, the ghouls, the not-demon; just sings, scrubbing at a leisure pace so that maybe he can get an extra hour on his shift tonight. I mean, c’mon, it’s 80 an hour. Wouldn’t you? 

You've been hired to clean a graveyard every night for 80 bucks an hour. Its haunted. And by god you are going to make that 80 bucks an hour

[plutotheplum]

Blush Wine

zayne x fem!reader

summary: a pressing personal issue has you turning to zayne in desperation. he is a doctor, after all.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, masturbation, finger-sucking, vaginal fingering, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, confessions

wc: 5.5k

a/n: just a cutesy little idea i had ^^

also on ao3!

“There’s something wrong with me.”

Your words leave you in an exasperated sigh, head tipping back as you stare at the ceiling of Zayne’s office, feeling utterly exhausted.

Zayne hums and the creak of his chair has you looking over at him, brows furrowing when you see he’s already begun to stand, the eartips of his stethoscope in place as he moves towards you.

“Zayne?” you say, huffing out a breath when he presses the stethoscope to your chest, “Zayne, no- not like that.”

“A cold?” Zayne murmurs, gazing down at you scrutinizingly, “I told you to be careful in the rain.”

“What?” you sputter, shaking your head, “no. No, it’s nothing like that.” You squirm a little in your chair, cheeks flushing lightly with embarrassment. “It’s- It’s more personal .”

Zayne stares down at you blankly, draping his stethoscope around the back of his neck. Your fingers tap against the edge of his desk agitatedly and Zayne catches the nervous tic, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Personal?” he echoes, raising his brows.

You nod, biting your lip nervously as you sneak a glance up at him. Zayne stares back at you sternly, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I was going to see a gynecologist,” you blurt out, cheeks flushing further, “but- but you seemed like a better option.”

He tilts his head, leaning back against the edge of his desk.

“What exactly is the problem?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you mutter, casting your eyes downwards.

Zayne lets out a sigh, his finger coming out to tap against your forehead gently. “Tell me,” he coaxes, fingers brushing through your hair for a brief moment before pulling back. “It’s the only way I can help you.”

“I can’t-” you begin, nails digging into your palms. Your voice is a soft hiss when you speak again. “I can’t cum !”

Zayne’s grip on the edge of his desk falters when he hears your words, a choked sound masked as a cough leaving him. You peek up at him shyly when he clears his throat only to find that Zayne’s usual facade of cool indifference has returned.

“I see.”

The only sound for the next several minutes is the tick of the clock in Zayne’s office. You play with your fingers, already regretting your decision to come here.

“Is that it?” you ask finally, “you see ?”

“I’m thinking,” Zayne replies, his hand scrubbing over his face. “Why did I seem like the better option?”

“Because we’ve known each other for years, Zayne!” you say frustratedly, “I figured- figured you might have some valuable input, you know, as a doctor and- and a friend.”

“I see.”

You glare at him when he says those two words again.

“Have you tried clitoral stimulation?” 

You nearly choke on your spit when Zayne says that. He sounds so methodical, so disinterested that it almost annoys you again, but when Zayne stares at you expectantly you realize he’s only trying to help.

“Yes,” you mumble, picking at the loose strand of your sweater, “doesn’t work. I tried my fingers too, but I can never cum.”

Zayne hums thoughtfully, his gaze dragging over you before glancing off towards the clock.

“This Friday, I’m off.”

Your brows furrow, unsure what he meant by that.

“I don’t have work on Friday,” Zayne repeats, “neither do you. I’ll come over, examine you and see what I can do.”

“ What ?” you blurt out, “what do you mean examine me?”

“I have to see what’s wrong,” Zayne replies bluntly, shifting on his feet, “I can refer you to a gynecologist if you’d prefer that instead.”

Truthfully, you’d prefer neither. It doesn’t help that your mind conjures up the image of Zayne spreading your thighs apart, his focused gaze trained on you enough to send a rush of heat coursing through your body.

“It’s fine,” you say finally, standing up, “you can come over. I’ll- I’ll let you get back to work.”

Zayne nods, opening the door for you to leave. “Drive safe.”

You’re long gone when Zayne lets out a shaky exhale in the privacy of his office. He scrubs his hand over his face, his cheeks flushing as he remembers the way you had blurted out your problem . 

Zayne tugs at the knot of his tie, loosening it in an attempt to try and quell the sinful thoughts that were flooding his mind at that very moment.

You were going to be the death of him.

- 

You don’t know what to do with yourself when Friday rolls around.

It’s too hard to sit still, each of your actions jerky and agitated as your mind runs through the potential implications of this entire situation.

Zayne drops in around midday, the ring of your doorbell making you hesitate as your fingers curl around the doorknob. Maybe it wouldn’t be too late to lie and tell Zayne that everything was fine.

The doorbell rings again and you open the door tentatively, peering up at Zayne.

“This isn’t really necessary,” you begin but Zayne shakes his head, stepping inside your apartment before locking the door behind him.

Silence passes over you both and Zayne stares at you for a moment longer, his gaze dipping over you.

“You’ll need to show me,” he murmurs, his fingers loosening the tie around his neck.

“Show- show you?” you echo, cheeks beginning to flush with embarrassment, “Zayne, you can’t be serious.”

He hums, moving to sit down on your couch, his thighs spreading slightly as he gets comfortable. You look away, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent an indecent noise from spilling out when you see how good he looks.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” he asks bluntly.

“You’re being inconsiderate,” you retort, but his words seem to do the trick, making you move towards him.

You turn to sit down next to him, but Zayne’s fingers are curling around your hips, pulling you down onto his lap instead. A surprised squeak escapes you, body squirming as you try to move off of his lap. Zayne holds you in place, his chest pressing against your back, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Z- Zayne?” you yelp, voice pitching up.

“Show me.”

You turn your head incredulously to find that Zayne’s gaze has darkened, his eyes boring into yours intensely. 

“Do you do this with everyone?” you murmur, shaky fingers reaching down to pull your shorts down, leaving you only in a shirt and panties on Zayne’s lap.

“No,” he replies, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Only you.”

You spread your legs, your fingers slipping past the waistband of your panties to circle your clit.

“I- I feel as though you want this,” you whisper, tilting your head.

“I do,” Zayne confesses. “I have, for-” he lets out a long breath, watching the way your fingers move in your panties, “for years now.”

“Oh.” You let out a stuttery, little breath, heart soaring at his words. “So have I.”

Zayne hums, his lips brushing across your cheek fleetingly. His hand reaches out, stopping your movements, pulling your hand free from your panties.

“You should’ve said something sooner,” he says quietly, the pads of his fingers pressing against the fabric of your panties, rubbing gently. “Let me.”

You suck in a sharp breath, fingers digging into his forearm as he rubs a little more, his svelte fingers flexing against your clothed cunt. Zayne taps your hip after a moment and you lift your hips for him, letting him pull your panties down.

“You’re wet,” he murmurs, fingers gliding through your folds, “that’s good.”

“Stop talking like that,” you complain, hips tilting up into his touch.

“I’m simply examining you,” Zayne replies, but you can hear the hint of a smile in his voice, the playful brush of his nose against your cheek.

A soft gasp leaves you when his lithe fingers find your clit, circling the swollen bud.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his other hand creeping up your shirt to find your breasts, your nipples already hardened, “relax for me.”

You do as Zayne says, letting his fingers work against you, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs your clit for you. Slick has begun to leak from you rapidly, a dull ache settling in your cunt as Zayne quickens his circling, his lips pressing against your neck.

“Inside,” you whisper needily, fingers wrapping around his wrist, “Zayne, I need your fingers inside .”

“No,” Zayne says sternly, squeezing at your breast as he strokes his fingers over your clit, petting the swollen bud, making your thighs twitch. “You’ll cum like this first and then you’ll cum on my fingers.”

You let out a frustrated whine, but the kiss Zayne lands to your cheek soothes your annoyance. He manages to pull more noises free from your lips with the way he rubs your clit, the press of his fingers growing harder when he sees your mouth drop open, head falling back against his shoulder.

“That’s it,” Zayne encourages, the fingers of his other hand pinching and rolling your nipple. “Just like that, love. Fall apart for me.”

A few more strokes over your clit is all it takes, a sharp gasp sounding as your orgasm rips through you, body shuddering on top of Zayne’s lap.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers not letting up as he rubs your clit through the twitches racking through your body, “did so well, baby.”

You slump against his chest, panting softly, head lolling to the side to blink up at him dazedly.

“You fixed me,” you mumble, nose nudging against his when he lowers his head.

“Seemed a little too easy,” Zayne murmurs.

You roll your eyes and Zayne smiles, his hand turning your head to the side. His head dips and your eyes flutter shut when his lips press against yours for the first time. He kisses you softly, his fingers stroking through your folds again.

Zayne groans into your mouth, deepening the kiss, his tongue licking into your mouth. You whimper, hips rocking into his fingers, feeling the press of them against your aching cunt. He pulls back to press his lips to your jaw, trailing soft kisses along your skin, his breath hot.

He presses one finger inside of you, drawing a moan out of you. Another finger joins soon after and you’re mewling desperately, pressing his hand against your pussy, wanting to feel his fingers deeper.

“Pretty pussy’s tight, love,” Zayne whispers, pushing your shirt up to finally get a good look at your breasts. “ Fuck ,” he breathes out, groping at one your breasts greedily, “you’re beautiful.”

“Zayne,” you hiccup out his name, biting your lip when you feel how hard he is against your ass, “feels s’good.”

Your hips rock back, grinding against his clothed cock. Zayne grunts, his forehead pressing into your shoulder at the feel of you against his bulge.

You writhe when he fucks his fingers into you rapidly, back arching as you moan loudly, feeling the curl of his fingers inside of you.

“I like you,” he rasps, nosing into your cheek, unable to help himself from laying firm, hot kisses all over your cheek and jaw, nipping at your neck gently.

You open your mouth to respond, but Zayne feeds you his fingers instead, keeping you full. A drunken slur sounds from you and Zayne huffs out a low laugh, his thumb adding to the mix when he circles your clit as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt.

You suckle on his fingers, tongue swirling around them mindlessly, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“Needy,” Zayne says, slowing the pace of his fingers, drawing out the moment.

You squirm on his lap, hips rocking and rolling, trying to grind against his cock and hump his hand, desperate to cum. Zayne lets out a low moan when he feels the brush of your ass, his hand slipping from your mouth to grip your hip in an attempt to stop you.

“Please,” you gasp, “please, Zayne, wanna- ah - wanna cum!”

“Go ahead, love,” he murmurs, resuming his pace, his fingers fucking in and out of your sloppy pussy. “Cum on my fingers.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth sinking into your lower lip. The tight coil in your stomach snaps when he curls his fingers inside of you again, his lips pressing against your ear in a low groan.

Zayne captures your lips in a kiss when you cum, his hand smoothing up and down your side soothingly as you shudder again, your soft cries muffled by his lips on yours.

“That’s it,” he whispers, kissing you gently, “good girl. Came so good, baby.”

You give him a hazy smile, turning on his lap, straddling him instead. Your arms wrap around his neck and Zayne sinks into the kiss, moaning into your mouth when you roll your hips, grinding your wet cunt all over his trousers.

Zayne moves you off of his lap before long, standing up, his hand pressing against his hard, clothed cock.

“Can I watch?” you breathe out, voice airy.

Zayne flushes, his cheeks and the tips of his ears covered in a pretty pink. You lick your lips when he rubs his hand over his bulge, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Please, Zayne?” you continue, voice softening further, “it’s- it’s only fair, right? You got to touch me and- and I just want to watch.”

“You’re infuriating,” he grits out, his eyes narrowing into a half-hearted glare.

You smile up at him when he steps closer, eyes dropping down to watch his lithe fingers undo the buckle of his belt. It falls to the floor, along with his pants and boxers and you swallow harshly when you see how hard his cock is.

It’s nice, like all the parts of Zayne, the black hair at the base of his cock trimmed neatly. You bite your lip, hands grasping at the armrest of the couch when you see how thick his cock is, the tip of it flushed a few shades darker than his cheeks.

“Is that what you want?” Zayne rasps, his hand wrapping around his cock, pumping it slowly, “hm? I didn’t think you were so filthy .”

“‘s not filthy,” you mumble, inching a little closer to his cock.

Your lips part, tongue lolling out, trying to taste the glob of pre-cum beading at the tip of Zayne’s cock. He grunts when he sees what you’re trying to do, shaking his head as the tips of his fingers press into your forehead, pushing your head away.

“No,” he says breathily, “you wanted to watch, so watch .”

A soft, frustrated whimper leaves you, a pout settling on your lips. It’s impossible to sit still with the dull ache of emptiness settling in your cunt again, thighs rubbing together needily as Zayne squeezes the head of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from the tip.

“Z- Zayne,” you whine, eyes half-lidded as you watch him stroke his cock, “Zayne, you’re so big.”

Zayne groans, his head tipping back in pleasure. You take your chance, reaching out to grab at his shirt, pushing it up a little to watch the flex of the muscles in his abdomen. It’s making you wet again, the feeling almost uncomfortable as slick drips from between your thighs.

You lean forward, landing a soft kiss to his hip. Zayne’s eyes flutter open, his gaze hazy as he stares down at you. You smile up at him sweetly and Zayne huffs out a breathy laugh, hardly able to believe the sight in front of him.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, his thumb reaching out to brush over your lower lip, “you’re so pretty.”

You hum, mouth opening for his thumb when he presses it in further, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans and your eyelids droop a little further, gaze dipping to find that his grip on his cock has tightened.

“Is this how you get off when you’re alone?” you whisper, words slurring around his thumb as he strokes it over the surface of your tongue.

Zayne nods, pumping his cock faster, his thighs twitching minutely.

“Do you think about me?” you whisper again, biting the tip of his thumb gently.

“Yes,” he groans, “ fuck- yes, all the time. You’re- hah- you’re all I can think about.” Zayne leans down and you rise up on your knees to meet him, lips pressing against his in a slow kiss. “It’s always you , love.”

Your heart stutters in your chest at his words, eyes lighting up at the little confession you’ve managed to draw out from the usually stoic man. 

His brows knit together as he strokes his cock, his lips finding yours again as he kisses you desperately, his hand cupping the back of your head to hold you in place.

“I- hah- I’m close,” Zayne grits out, his hips stuttering.

“Wanna watch you cum, Zayne,” you whisper, nipping his lower lip playfully.

He groans, body hunching over as he fucks his cock into his fist, letting out rasping pants.

“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, fingers stroking across your cheek, “wanted a taste, didn’t you?”

You nod eagerly and Zayne lets out a low moan, his hips jerking as he cums. You hold your tongue out, eyes shutting when you feel his cum splatter over your cheeks and tongue, a soft mewl slipping out of you at the heady taste.

You lick your lips, leaning forward to lap at the tip of his cock. A smile spreads across your face when Zayne shudders, his fingers spreading out across your scalp as he holds you in place, letting you suckle at his spent cock. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, thumb stroking across your cheek, “cleaning me up so well, baby.”

You hum, kissing the tip of his cock, mouth opening for his thumb when he feeds you a stray drop of cum. 

Zayne dips his head soon after, kissing you feverishly. He cups your cheeks, pulling you closer. You sigh into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck, feeling his softening cock against your stomach.

“I like you,” you whisper against his lips, pecking them gently.

“I know,” Zayne murmurs, his hands petting at your sides, “I like you too.”

Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your forehead, a contented hum leaving you when he kisses your cheek after. Zayne wraps his arms around your waist and you laugh when he hoists you up, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Bedroom?” you ask, fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair.

Zayne nods, one of his hands squeezing at your ass. You don’t make it very far when his pager sounds.

You pout when Zayne sets you down onto your feet, peeking over at his pager as he reads it.

“Urgent?”

“Seems like it,” Zayne murmurs, his brows furrowing slightly, “I have to go.”

Despite the urge to protest, the urge to make Zayne stay with you for longer, you can’t find it in yourself to voice your thoughts when you see the serious look on his face. Instead, you let him get dressed, helping him redo his tie. 

Zayne lowers his head, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head up so he can kiss you again. You melt into it, arms wrapping around his neck, lips working against his lazily.

“Thank you,” you say, kissing his cheek when his hands drop away from your waist, “for helping me out.”

Zayne’s eyes glimmer with mirth, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a half-smile.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek, “just don’t go to anyone else if you have that problem again, okay?”

You pretend to consider his words, even though you know no one could ever replace the spot Zayne’s carved out in your heart.

“I mean it,” Zayne murmurs when you don’t respond. His body draws near, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. “I want you to only need me.”

His words curl around your heart, squeezing tight. Your mouth opens to respond, but your breath gets caught in your throat and Zayne lets out a soft chuckle when he sees how flustered he’s made you.

“You- you can’t just say that ,” you grumble, face pressing into his chest.

“Why not?” Zayne asks, his hand stroking your hair gently.

“Because!” you say exasperatedly, peering up at him, “you just can’t.”

Zayne smiles down at you, his lips pressing against your forehead. “Well, I did. Let me take care of you, hm? I’ve been doing it until now.”

You nod your assent, kissing his cheek before pushing him towards the door.

“Bye, Doctor Zayne.”

“Bye,” Zayne replies, his eyes roving over you, committing the image of you bare and dazed to mind. “Remember to rest. Eat when you can and drink plenty of wat-”

“Zayne!” you interrupt, pointing at his flashing pager again, “I know .”

Zayne sighs, stepping through the doorway to leave. He stares at you one more time, his voice creeping through the narrowing gap as he closes the door. “I’ll send you a text.”

-

So, Zayne solved your problem. 

But he had given you another problem in return. You couldn’t stop thinking about him or his fingers. Worst of all, the simple thought of it left you hazy, your mind fogging over whenever you remembered the feel of his fingers inside your cunt. 

The following week, you’d missed at least three good shots at the training facility leading to Jenna shooting you a strange look when she saw how off-target your shots were. A wane smile had graced your lips and you’d gone home in a daze.

It’s how you’ve ended up like this, squirming around in bed, hand shoved down into your sleep shorts, brows furrowed. All you could think about was Zayne and how much you missed him. 

A soft hiccup escapes you when you feel your impending orgasm fade, a frustrated noise leaving you. You grasp blindly for your phone, pressing it to your ear after calling him.

“Hello?” 

“Zayne,” you whine, fingers stroking over your clit, “Zayne, I need you.”

You can hear Zayne sucking in a sharp breath when he hears your whine, and the sound of his chair moving.

“I’ll be there.”

-

You’re opening the door when you hear the doorbell ring and Zayne stumbles back as you practically throw yourself at him, yanking him down by his tie to kiss him. 

It doesn’t take long for him to reciprocate, his hands sliding to the backs of your thighs as he picks you up. Zayne shuts the door with his foot, his lips working against yours eagerly.

“Again?” he asks, carrying you into your bedroom before setting you down gently.

You nod, pulling him down for another kiss, fingers working at his tie and the buttons of his shirt. “Doesn’t work if it’s not you.”

Zayne hums, pushing at your shoulders slightly to get you to lay down. You bite your lip when he sinks down onto his knees, arms pulling you towards the edge of the bed, your legs over his shoulders.

“I’ll take care of you,” Zayne affirms, pulling your shorts off.

He groans at the sight of your bare pussy, thumbs spreading apart your puffy folds. Your arousal clings to his fingers and the first brush of Zayne’s thumb against your clit has you seeing stars.

“Please,” you gasp out, moaning softly when Zayne’s hot breath hits your pussy, “want your mouth, Zayne.”

“You have it, love.”

Zayne squeezes your hand, his tongue licking a stripe up your slick folds. You whine, thighs twitching at the sensation, your other hand sinking into his soft hair. He lets out a low noise at the taste, his face pressing between your thighs.

Your toes press into shoulders, hips bucking as Zayne’s tongue swirls through your folds. He makes a few measured sounds as he laves over your clit, sucking the swollen bud into his mouth every so often.

“Taste good, baby,” Zayne murmurs, pulling back to press wet, sloppy kisses onto your inner thighs. “Such a pretty pussy,” he breathes, his cheek resting against your thigh as he stares at the pitiful clench of your cunt around nothing.

“Stop- stop teasing me,” you whimper, back arching and fingers fisting Zayne’s hair when he lands a few kisses to your clit.

Zayne grants your request, his mouth returning to your puffy pussy, lips suctioning around your clit. You mewl, eyes squeezing shut as you feel the press of his fingers inside of you, filling you up.

“Yes,” you begin to chant when he curls his fingers and begins to fuck them out of you, “ oh- yes, yes, please nghh- ”

Zayne slurps at your cunt, the lewd noise filling the air coupled with the sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy. You can hardly think straight, the pleasure so mind-numbing that your toes are curling and you’re tugging at Zayne’s hair roughly.

“W- wait,” you mumble dazedly, “Zayne- Zayne, want your cock.”

He peers up at you, his eyes never leaving yours as he laps at your pussy, drawing back before spitting on it.

“Thought you wanted my mouth?” he says, fingers still working in and out of you.

“Need you to fill me up,” you demand, trying to pull him up, “I want you inside of me.”

Zayne is stubborn like you, if not more, denying you as he buries his face back into your cunt, sucking and licking, drinking down your wetness like he’s been starved. 

“You’ve already cum on my fingers,” Zayne rasps, kissing your clit, “cum on my tongue, then you can have my cock, love.”

You glare down at him, not appreciating the subtle edging. Zayne smiles up at you, his mouth opening wider to lap at your cunt before sucking at your folds messily, his tongue swirling around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh briefly. 

A squeal leaves you when Zayne suddenly holds you in place as he roughly sucks at your clit, mouth suctioning relentlessly. Your body jerks, legs kicking out at the feeling, his fingers grazing the sensitive spot deep inside of you.

“Cum,” Zayne orders sternly, moving his fingers faster, “cum on my tongue like a good girl.”

That’s all it takes, your thighs squeezing tight around his head, back arching as you cum, shuddering gasps leaving you. Zayne hums into your cunt when your thighs loosen, licking over your sensitive cunt gently, his lips pressing against your clit in an affectionate kiss.

You lay there, limbs heavy, staring up at the ceiling hazily. The clink of Zayne’s belt draws you out of the trace post-orgasm, arms wrapping around his neck when he crawls over you, kissing you softly.

“Still want my cock?” he asks, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Mhm,” you nod, and it’s you pushing at his shoulders this time, making him lay down as you crawl up onto his lap, straddling his hips.

There’s pre-cum smeared across Zayne’s abdomen when you look down, his cock hard and thick, the tip flushed dark.

“All yours,” Zayne whispers, his thumb stroking over your lips and jaw when you begin to drag your cunt over his cock. “I’m all yours, baby.”

You smile down at him, nuzzling into his palm before turning your head to kiss his wrist.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Zayne replies, his hands grasping at your hips.

You lift them for him, rising up onto your knees. Zayne grasps the base of his cock, holding it for you, guiding you to sink down on him. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan when his cock presses into you, head falling forward when you feel how thick he is.

“Take what you want, love,” Zayne murmurs, “use me.”

A soft whine spills out of you, hands landing flat against his chest, your hips rolling. Zayne’s hand drifts, grabbing at the fat of your ass, moving you up and down on his cock.

You’re crying out his name desperately and Zayne groans, propping himself up on an elbow to pull you down, mouthing at your tits. He wraps his arms around your waist and you cup the back of his head, holding his head to your chest.

Zayne’s tongue swirls around your hardened nipple, the sensation of his teeth grazing and biting gently enough to send little twitches through your body.

“You’re- you’re so good,” you mewl, eyes fluttering shut while your nails dig into his broad shoulders. “I- fuck- I like you so much! Zayne- oh- hah- like you!”

Zayne moans in response, tongue flicking against your nipple until you tug at his head back using his hair, your lips crashing down onto his. It’s feverish and unrestrained, Zayne’s hands grasping at your waist, your hips and ass as though you might suddenly disappear.

“Ride me,” he urges, his breath fanning across your lips. “Ride me, my love.”

You nod, unable to stop yourself from kissing him again, widening the distance between your knees, setting a firmer base before you begin to rise and fall on his cock.

“ Shit- ” Zayne gasps, his head tipping back when he feels the clench of your pussy as you drag it up and down his cock.

The sounds of skin against skin fill your bedroom, both of you panting into each other’s mouths, Zayne’s brows knitting together as he stares up at you, his fingers flexing against your waist as though trying to hold back.

“I- I can’t- forgive me.”

Confusion flits across your face when you hear him. “Zayne?”

Zayne doesn’t respond, flipping you over onto your back; drawing a surprised squeak from you. You whimper when he kisses you roughly, his cock slipping out of you for a moment before Zayne pushes it back into you, his hips settling between your thighs.

Your arms wrap around his neck, Zayne’s face pressing into the crook of your neck as he ruts his hips into you with abandon. He tilts your hips up, driving his cock in with deep, rough thrusts, ripping every possible needy noise from your throat.

His back is covered in red welts with how you’ve been clawing down his skin, body writhing under his with every thrust he delivers. His balls are slapping against your ass, the sound making your cheeks flush, but you hold him closer, fingers tangled in his hair.

“Z- Zayne!” you hiccup, hardly able to form words, mouth hanging open with how he’s mouthing at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “Zayne, ‘m gonna cum!”

“You’re mine,” he hisses, shifting to peer down into your eyes, his hand coming to cup your jaw. “Only mine,” Zayne repeats, stealing a kiss from you, “all fucking mine.”

You nod rapidly in agreement, your thumb brushing over his lips before pushing into his mouth. A soft mewl leaves you when Zayne sucks, his tongue swirling around your thumb, his teeth biting gently.

“Cum,” Zayne slurs, his hips beginning to move unevenly, “cum for me, my love. Give it to me. Give everything to me.”

You seize under him, cunt clenching around Zayne’s cock and he moans deeply, trying to bury his cock as deep as possible inside of you. His cock twitches as he cums, thick ropes of his hot cum spilling into you, your cunt clenching around his cock weakly.

Zayne nuzzles into the crook of your neck and you let out a content hum, hands smoothing down over his broad back when he slumps over you.

“I can’t feel my legs,” you mumble.

Zayne lets out a hoarse laugh, kissing your cheek before moving off of you, laying down beside you instead.

He tugs you into his side, his warm palm moving down the side of your waist, caressing your hip soothingly as he kisses your temple. You sigh, moving closer to him, pressing into his side, eyes slipping shut as he squeezes your thighs slowly, relieving the dull ache that’s settled into your muscles.

“You’re beautiful,” Zayne whispers, cupping your cheek, tilting your head to look into your eyes when they blink open. 

A light flush covers your cheeks, a shy smile spreading across your face as you lean in, pecking his lips sweetly.

“You’re wonderful, Zayne.”

“Such high praise,” he murmurs, nose nuzzling against yours affectionately, “am I really so deserving?”

You roll your eyes, poking his chest in response before sitting up.

“Where are you going?” Zayne grumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you back into his chest.

“I have to clean up,” you whine, eyes slipping shut when Zayne squeezes your breast.

You bare your neck to him a little more when he begins to plant soft kisses here and there, his hands petting over your spent body. A quiet moan spills from you when he kisses the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin when he speaks.

“Not so fast, love. We have to make up for lost time.”

[jasvtsc]

good girl’s dream

“better? you’re gonna stop cryin’ now?” he asked, keeping his fingers in your mouth.

you sniffled and nodded, however a pathetic whine escaped your lips at the sudden emptiness after he pulled his fingers out.

sometimes, ben had his moments of tenderness where he wasn’t acting like a total dick. you were his little princess, so sometimes you got special treatment—well, you always got special treatment, but the options varied.

cause he would either destroy your pussy and call you a fucking slut or hold you tightly and stroke your hair as you fell asleep in his lap.

and now, you got the more tender side of him.

he sighed and wiped his fingers on his shirt, looking at you with something that resembled both exasperation and amusement. and maybe a tiny bit of concern.

you just fell and lightly scraped your knee like half an hour ago but kept wailing even after coming home. so annoyed with the sound of you crying (and not really knowing what to do to make you feel better) he stuffed his thick digits into your mouth. and that was enough to keep you quiet and calm you down as you softly suckled on them.

but when you started blinking more heavily, your body practically going numb, he quickly withdrew them. which explained the yet another pout on your face, your lower lip slightly quivering.

“come on, baby. it’s just a small bruise. it’s not that bad,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. fuck, you were making him soft. but he couldn’t be angry when you were looking so sweet, with those big puppy eyes that just yearned for his love and attention.

gosh, you were so pathetically adorable, just wanting him to take care of you.

with a sigh, he lifted you up, placing you on his lap and lifting your leg, looking at your knee. your skin was slightly scraped and reddened but it didn’t seem to be anything serious—at least not to him. he started blowing some air on your small injury, his warm breath hitting your skin and making you shiver. he smirked and then leaned forward, placing small kisses all over the spot.

when a small smile graced your face, he pulled away and started stroking your hair.

“there we go. atta girl,” he cooed lowly, cradling the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your temple. “much better when you’re not being a sniffling baby,” he scoffed and pulled your head forward, kissing your forehead and then your lips.

“i’m not a baby,” you murmured with a pout, and ben swore to himself that if you started crying again, he’d just put a muzzle on you.

“yes, you very much are. such a lil’ crybaby. always crying and sniffling for daddy, hmm?” he teased, his hands slowly going up your legs and under your miniskirt.

you gasped as his thumbs started rubbing your folds, toying with them through the thin material of the pink-ish lace. god, did he fucking love when you wore the things he bought you.

already in a daze-like state, you slumped further into the bed, basically drowning between the pillows as he kept working you up. you let out a soft whimper and he smirked, now beginning to rub your clit.

“these sounds are so much better than you sobbin’ your pretty eyes out, baby,” he drawled, applying more pressure on your sensitive bud and making you gasp, oh so sweetly. “yeah, so much better.”

slowly, he slid your now dampened panties down, but kept them on your ankles. then, he made you cum around his dick seven times, leaving you spent and filled to the brim with his creamy essence. satisfied with himself, he pulled your panties back up and patted your core, giving your messy folds a few strokes with his thumb.

“there we go. all sleepy and filled with daddy’s cum. and we’re gonna keep it there all nicely cause we don’t want it to go to waste or do we?” he cocked an eyebrow, expecting only one answer from you.

“n-no. we won’t,” you slurred, slowly shaking your head.

“good girl,” he smiled darkly, pressing his thumb on your clothed and filled hole, feeling you clench around nothing but your mixed juices.

you were such a good girl for him.

[kinardsboy]

Buddie shippers have tried to coin the moral superiority and high ground with their ship and I’m sick of it

This not only comes from a place of homophobia but also heteronormativity. Buddie is inherently better because “they’re a family” ignoring the fact that Evan and Tommy could easily build their own, they are constantly pushing buddie into heteronormative roles, ESPECIALLY Buck.

They go out of their way and try so hard to prove Tommy never changed for the better, that he is still the same person he was nearly 20 years ago. That he isn’t deserving of Buck, all to prove their claim of “your ship bad and toxic therefore mine better.” Again, putting themselves on the moral high ground so their criticisms and weird hater behavior seems more justified and acceptable than when we speak out.

When that doesnt work? No problem. They just turn to straight homophobia and conservative talking points.

“Tommy wanted Eddie first but settled for Buck” sure man, I’m surprised you could take Eddies dick out of your mouth long enough to type that sentence.

“Tommy only wants sex, like most gay men do” Yes this is an actual quote from a post criticizing Tommy! Again! Homophobia! If Tommy only wanted sex theres.. grindr.. its fucking LA?? However I do find it interesting that the idea of queer men (Gay men especially) wanting sex and not feeling bad about it is something that upsets these people so much.. i wonder why the idea of gay sex makes them uncomfortable 🤔

Which brings me to their next talking point

The daddy kink scene.

I don’t even want to go into the awful violent things that were posted in response to a gay man flirting with his boyfriend, but I’m sure most of you all have seen them already so I’ll keep it vague. We all know Buck initiated that flirting scene, we all know Buck brought up daddy kink and Tommy reciprocated.

But because they can’t possibly imagine their precious little baby Buck partaking in such heinous kinks? Well then it MUST be Tommy who started it! Therefore BuckTommy is bad because Tommy is into “gross” or “immoral” kinks and makes everything about sex and so..? Yep! Buddie better ! Buddie the safe clean option!

SPEAKING of making everything about sex lets talk about the way buddie shippers tried to say “youre a vision in a cone” was about PUPPY PLAY??

Again I find it sooo interesting that these people are trying to base morals and high ground on two men possibly engaging in kink. Isnt that interesting?

The compliment was obviously not puppy play kink but even if it was who the fuck cares? They’re grown ass men? They can partake in kink???

Why are you twice now claiming that BuckTommy , and lets be honest here, mainly Tommy is a bad person and ship because of sexual attraction? Because of kinks?

Good thing their fave is a fucking catholic cause they all sure act like one

[emmylksblog]

LOVE RECIPE // HÉCTOR FORT

summary: you and héctor make a big mess trying to bake something edible. the result is obviously awful and you have no other option than stealing his precious shirt. based on this request.

genre: blurb, fluff

warnings: none

a/n: oh to be his gf and steal his oversized shirts... 😔

The plan had been simple: a quiet afternoon at Héctor’s apartment, trying out a new dessert recipe. But, as always, with you and Héctor, things didn’t go as planned.

The kitchen was a complete disaster—flour dusted across the counter, bits of melted chocolate smeared on the tiles, and your shirt was splattered with sticky batter.

Héctor wasn’t much better off, with dough stuck in his hair and a couple of your handprints stamped across his shirt from when you’d “playfully attacked” him.

“Does this count as baking, or just demolishing the kitchen?” you joked, leaning against the counter as you tried—unsuccessfully—to clean off your shirt.

“Definitely the second one,” Héctor replied with a teasing grin, running a hand through his hair only to find the dough still clinging to it.

After a few more minutes of laughter, you both decided it was time to throw your clothes in the wash before the mess dried. A while later, you found yourself rummaging through Héctor’s small wardrobe while he was in the living room, searching for the cake mold you’d both misplaced.

Your shirts were still spinning in the washer, and wearing your sticky, stained one again wasn’t an option. Without much thought, you grabbed one of Héctor’s shirts—a simple black one that had been folded neatly on a chair. It was soft, oversized, and the best part is that it smelled like him.

When you walked back into the kitchen, Héctor was crouched on the floor, picking something up. He glanced up as you entered, and froze for a second, his eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“Is that… my shirt?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, though the grin tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t upset.

“And what if it is?” you replied with a mischievous smile, spinning slightly to show off the fit. “My clothes are still in the wash, and I wasn’t about to stay in that sticky vanilla mess.”

Héctor chuckled, leaning against the counter as he crossed his arms. “You look good in it. Too good, actually. Now I’m worried you’ll keep stealing my clothes.”

“Worried?” you teased, stepping closer to him. “I think you secretly love it.”

He let out a soft laugh, his expression shifting from teasing to something gentler as his hands found their way to your hips, pulling you a little closer. “You���re not wrong. It might even suit you better than it suits me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, smiling despite the flutter in your chest. “Then I guess I’m keeping it.”

“Fine,” Héctor murmured, leaning in just enough to brush his nose against yours. The world around you seemed to blur as his lips found yours in a slow, sweet kiss, his fingers lightly tracing your waist.

Just as you were catching your breath, Héctor smirked and grabbed a bit of melted chocolate that was still in the bowl nearby. Before you could react, he swiped his finger across it and dabbed it on your cheek.

“Perfect,” he said with a mischievous grin, admiring his work.

“Héctor!” you gasped, swatting at him as he laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

“You started it baby!” he teased, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Even as you rolled your eyes again, you couldn’t help but laugh, the warmth between you two filling the messy kitchen with something sweeter than anything you could’ve baked.

[burrowdarling]

Welcome to the Prompt List

Hey there!

Below is a list of dialog prompts that can be requested for a blurb or headcanon. I do have a few guidelines:

*please read before requesting*

➭I’ll be doing each prompt request on a first come first serve basis, as to not get too many repeats (depending on interest)

➭I’ll allow a maximum of 2-3 prompts together to ensure there are plenty of options (used prompts will be crossed off)

➭If there is anything specific you would like to be included, please mention it with your prompt request.

➭Just because a prompt is under a certain theme doesn't mean it has to be, just specify if you'd like something different

Any other questions? Feel free to reach out. Otherwise, request away!

Fluff

“You’re so cute when you blush.”

“Everything alright?” “I just missed you.”

“Rough day? Can I make it better?”

"Have I told you I love you today?" "Yes, but please say it again."

“There is no better way to start the day than seeing your face.”

Flirting + Teasing

“It’s so cold, you should hold my hand, so it doesn’t freeze.” “I’m not that cold, I can give you my gloves if you want.”

“Annoying you is what I’m best at.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes. Is it working?”

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

“Oh, you’re so jealous. This is great to watch.”

Romance

"You're so red all of a sudden. Did I say something wrong?"

"I've never seen you not happy." "Maybe I've always been in good company when you've seen me."

"I thought you didn't like the show." "Yeah, but you like watching it, and I don't exactly hate it..."

“I need just one date.” “You think you can woo me with just one date?” “Absolutely.”

“You kissed me.” “You kissed me back.” “And I’m not here to apologize.”

Angst

“Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Just close your eyes. I will still be here when you open them again.”

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

Steamy

“Don’t act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

“The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused is making me lose my mind.”

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

“Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

“Tell me what you would want to do, if you were here right now.”

credit to @creativepromptsforwriting for the dialogue starters

[lillaydee]

Delusions

Joel Miller (AU) / Reader (Narration by Unhinged, Delusional OFC)

When jealousy makes one see you through distorted, circus-mirrored glasses.

Word Count: 13,293

WARNINGS:Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Joel is in love, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Sexual Assault (On a Male Character), Drink Spiking, Delusions, Completely Unhinged (But Dumb as a Doornail) OFC, Descriptions of Bloody Attack, Mental Illness.

***

Nell had never understood the appeal of you. What did you have that she didn’t? She was so much prettier than you. Everyone said so. You didn’t even wear make up for God’s sake, and you bought clothes at discount shops. And yet people seemed drawn to you.

She loved you. She really did. You were her best friend. You had been since infancy. Your mom worked for her family. She was their housemaid. Your mom and her mom, Susan, got pregnant at around the same time. Your father was a long-haul truck driver, so he wasn’t home as often, and when she was born, her family hired a live-in nanny to help with her. Your mom had been looking for day care options for you when Susan suggested she just bring you over and the nanny could look after you both when she worked.

Her family loved you. They doted on you. When the time came for you to go to school, they offered to pay for you to get private education, same as her, so that way, the two of you wouldn’t be separated. You mom politely declined; your parents didn’t want you to be spoiled like that. They wanted you to grow up knowing where you came from, to understand the value of hard work and money. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that your family had no money. So, the two of you were separated during the school terms but spent a lot of time together during the holidays, when your mom would bring you to work with her.

You two remained close. Best friends. But Nell couldn’t help but notice that you had more friends than she did. Even her own friends from her private school ended up being more your friends than hers, and yet, your friends didn’t seem to like her so much. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that they were simple, mind-numbingly boring people. You kept getting invites to birthday parties and sleepovers, when she could only get parties and sleepovers at her place, and that too, normally ended up with her friends crowding around you, spending time and talking with you than her. They all invited you to their parties and sleepovers, but not her. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that their houses were not as well equipped as hers. She was just pointing out facts.

When the two of you turned sixteen, her parents got her a Mercedes. They wanted to get you one too, but you declined. Instead, you used your own money to buy a second-hand Mini Cooper that made so many creaks and groans when driven, you called it Creaky. Her parents reimbursed you for the money as a present instead.

Despite her having the nice car, you still had more friends cramped in your Creaky than she ever had in her Mercedes. Creaky was always full. She saw you and your friends (most of which were her friends before they were yours) laughing as it puttered along, filled tighter than a sardine can, driving down the street, off somewhere where she wasn’t invited, again. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that she had so many demands for her passengers. Did you know how much it cost to detail a car?

You made time for her, though. She would tell you her problems, and you would console her, gave her advice, and made her feel better. She really loved you. She didn’t know what she would do without you in her life.

She made it to an Ivy League university, her parents being large donors to a couple of them. You received a partial scholarship to the same university, and her parents offered to pay for the rest of your college fees, but you declined. You didn’t even want to go. You opted for the local community college, wanting to live at home and be close to your parents.

Nell, being the beautiful young woman that she was, had no problems getting the young men to fall for her. But for some reason, the young men never stuck. They would sleep with her, and more often than not, ghosted her. The few that stuck around seemed more interested in having her take them to fancy restaurants and buy them things than commit to her. And these guys didn’t like that she was sleeping with more than one guy, surprisingly. They often left her. Not her fault that she was so beautiful she needed to have more than one guy. She was just being fair.

You, on the other hand, were more reserved, and preferred to stay home and not party. You had one boyfriend throughout high school. But when his family moved across the country, the two of you broke up. And by the time you were in college, you were so content with focusing on your studies you didn’t get involved with anyone.

Every time Nell introduced you to one of her guys, they would end up asking about you often. Even when she was out clubbing, the guys she flirted with would recognize her from being your friend, and asked if they could get your number. Nell didn’t understand. You wouldn’t even sleep with anyone unless you were in love with them. And you didn’t have money. Your dates consisted of movies and tacos at the truck. And yet, all these guys were clamouring for you. You didn’t even wear sexy clothes. You stuck to your ponytail and jeans and shirts. You didn’t even get your boobs done. You didn’t even get lip injections. She couldn’t fathom it. What was your appeal?

But it’s okay. She was the one who was out there. She was the one who were getting dates every night. Not you. So, that’s something, right? But even with all the men she had slept with, there was one man she wanted so badly, but could never seem to get.

Joel Miller.

He was hot. So hot. Him and his brother Tommy did construction. They worked for their father. Nell had heard rumours about Joel. She could see it, in fact. The guys he used to share a locker room with were talking about it openly. They called him Hung Miller to distinguish between him and his brother. His ex-girlfriend was too shy and ladylike to talk about it. Nell set her eyes on him, going after him every chance she got. But he never gave her the time of day. She sampled Tommy once at the bar. He was big. But apparently Joel was bigger. And she wanted to sample Joel - badly. But he didn’t talk much. Never went to the bars as much as Tommy did. And when she tried to talk him up, he always made excuses and left.

Nell gave up in the end. She went to college and found herself a Law major who had money just like her, Tony. He got her. They have the same background. So, she decided, for now, she would stick with Tony. They went steady, and for once in her life, Nell found herself falling in love, and didn’t cheat on him at all.

When she told you about Tony, you were really excited for her. Finally, you had said, someone tamed Wild Nellie. She had giggled with you over FaceTime about it. She couldn’t wait for you to meet him, she said. How she wished you would find someone too. She wanted you to be happy. Like her. You replied with your standard you’re too busy with school to date. Nell rolled her eyes – you could graduate with your eyes closed. You were so smart.

When she finally introduced Tony to you, the two of you got along swimmingly. Nell was so happy. She was so in love with him. Tony would join the two of your when you FaceTime each other and made joking remarks at you. You only met him once, but you could tell he was a good guy. You were happy your friend found someone like him. Maybe her wild days are over.  

Susan got sick that year. She was in a car accident and suffered a stroke during recovery. Nell was too busy in college to go home and help, so you did. You came by every day to help Susan out, even though her husband had hired help to help her with her recovery. You read to her, did crochets with her to help her hands get their dexterity back, swam with her, cooked with her, and called Nell every day so she could say hi to Susan. It wasn’t Nell’s fault you always called when she was busy doing college things.

When Tony found out about her mother, he wanted to visit, but she didn’t want to. She was having fun where she was. There were people around to take care of her mother. She wasn’t needed. And Tony made a remark where she should be more like you. Caring, kind, considerate, empathetic. That stung her. It was clear to her that even he thought you were better than her. Just like her parents, her friends, her exes. But she loved him, so she let it go.   

When she went home for the summer, she discovered that her parents had hired someone to make their house more wheelchair friendly. Not just anyone, in fact, but the Miller brothers. She took this opportunity to try her luck with Joel again, just to feed her ego. But again, he rebuffed her. Seemingly uninterested in her at all. Which couldn’t be possible. Had he seen her? She was hot. How could he not want her? She divided her time spent during that summer trying to get his attention and watching you take care of her mother. She would wear the skimpiest bikini and lounged around the house in them, and Joel didn’t even look her way. She rubbed herself on him all the time, accidentally, of course, and he just moved out of the way. At one point, she even accidentally on purpose dropped her towel on him while he was working on the bathroom ramp, revealing her perfect, naked body. Still, he didn’t bat an eye at her.

And then one day she saw him looking at you longingly. You were crocheting with her mother, telling her a story, laughing merrily. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. She started noticing Joel would find reasons to work within your vicinity and tried to talk to you. Whenever you talked to him back, Joel would stand all awkwardly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly, looking flustered that you would give him the time of day.

And finally, on the last day of construction, just before he left, she saw him kiss you.

Nell slept with Tommy that night, just to get her frustrations out of the way. She told him how she couldn’t understand why Joel would choose you, and not her. Tommy told her that Joel had always had a thing for you. Since high school. But you and him both were in relationships, so he didn’t do anything about it.

Again, Nell didn’t get it. Why you?

That night, the night before she went back to college, she and Tommy fell asleep in her bed. Tony FaceTimed her, and she absentmindedly picked up. He saw that she was naked in bed with someone. And broke up with her on the spot.

Nell was broken hearted. She flew back the next day and begged him to give her another chance. He ignored her. She blamed you kissing Joel for her indiscretion. She obviously wouldn’t have slept with Tommy if she hadn’t seen you do that.

She went through the rest of her college years sleeping around and drinking her troubles away, especially since you told her you and Joel were officially dating now. You were so happy with him. She drank and slept around some more to cope with that. She failed her final year, having partied too much. It’s your fault, of course. Why couldn’t you just keep your happiness with the one man she wanted to yourself? Just before she left, she said goodbye to Tony. He had moved on, another Law major, who looked just about as boring as you were. He traded down, she thought. He politely said goodbye to her and told her he’s glad her mother was doing better. She wondered how he knew – and he told her he had called you from time to time to ask about Susan.

Oh.

When Nell got back in town, she received such a scolding and lecture from her father she couldn’t think straight. She drove to your house to vent, only to be told that you had moved out. She went to the new address and Joel answered the door.

You had moved in with Joel Miller, just last week. And the night before, he had asked you to marry him, and you had said yes, you told her excitedly.

You were sharing good news with her. But all Nell saw was red.

Why you? Why not her? What was so special about you that everyone, her own parents included, preferred you? Why did you get to be happy? Why not her?

Nell hugged you upon hearing the news. She looked at Joel, faux happiness on her face. He looked good. Mouth wateringly good.  

She decided right there and then.

You had taken everyone from her.

She was going to take Joel Miller from you if it was the last thing she did.

***

Nell could see the challenges that she was going to face. Joel didn’t want to be alone with her at all. He went into the kitchen with you when you went to get drinks. When you went to the next room to answer a phone call, he went with you. You went to the bathroom; he went outside for a smoke – he must have some hideaway because Nell tried to follow but he was nowhere to be seen. When you decided to cook lunch, he helped you, never leaving your side. And you didn’t do the classic ‘no you should stay with Nell, entertain her’ thing her mother did to her father either.

God, what a clingy couple.

It didn’t help that Joel couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you either. A hand on your back, on your thigh, around your shoulder, and you were equally bad – letting him do that with her right there. How shameless.

She needed a game plan.

So, she tried the simplest thing first. Could she perhaps stay the night? She didn’t want to go home and face her father just yet. You looked at Joel, and he shrugged, telling you it was up to you. She’s your friend.

Oh, so now he’s not even friends with her?

After dinner, you put on a movie. You gave her your sleep sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in. You cuddled up to Joel to watch the movie, Nell on his other side. She surreptitiously made her way closer to him as the movie progressed, but just as she was about to get near enough to feel the beginnings of his body heat, he got up and went to the kitchen for a drink. When he came back, he sat on your other side, putting her plan to accidentally fall asleep on him to bed.

When you started to fall asleep, Joel lifted you up and brought you into the bedroom. Nell’s heart jumped. Finally. A chance to be alone. But Joel placed you on the bed, came back and shut the door. Not even a good night her way.

She woke up early the next morning to sounds of soft moans and grunts from your bedroom. She could hear him shushing you, his low sexy voice talking to you, but she couldn’t hear what he said exactly. Who would have sex when a guest was in the next room? She knew you. You didn’t even like sex that much. You’d only slept with what, three men? You were a prude. Inexperienced. Unlike her. You would never have sex with her in the next room. It was all so out of character for you. And you could never satisfy him in bed the way she could. There was no way Joel would want you like this, though. Nell didn’t get it. Why would he find you desirable and not her? I mean, you never got your hair done. You used the 2-in-1 shampoo for God’s sake. And your nails? You clipped them down, never even got a manicure. You didn’t even bother to look good. And here she was, someone who had spent so much money to look the way she did, and he wanted you?

Seriously. It boggles the mind. The good news was, Joel Miller was just a man. So, with your lack of interest in beauty care, surely he will see what he was missing if it was shoved in his face enough, right?

So when you came out looking freshly fucked, wearing only a shirt she assumed was his, she made sure to pretend she was still asleep. When she joined you in the kitchen, she was only wearing the shirt you loaned her. Let him have a peek at what he would be enjoying soon. But it seemed like Joel didn’t even notice her. He acted as if you were the only other person in the room. She needed more time, and more tactics. Show him what she could offer that you couldn’t.

She announced that she wanted to celebrate the happy couple. Dinner tonight? At the most expensive restaurant in town. Please? You told her that you and Joel were not that kind of people. The two of you prefer to keep it simple. Nell waved her hands off at you, telling you that a special celebration was in order. Come on, please?

You finally said okay.

So, at dinner that night, Nell flexed her flirting skills with Joel. She ordered the most expensive everything. Champagne, caviar, courses and courses of the most decadent and pricey stuff she knew you could never afford to lavish him with. She bought the two of you presents, a diamond bracelet for you, and a Rolex for Joel. She needed him to understand how serious she was about wanting him, how she could give you more than you could ever imagine. He didn’t really react to the watch the way she expected him to. Just looked at it, closed the box and pushed it towards you. And you, as always, declined the gifts, saying that she didn’t have to do this. Nell insisted, saying that you would never buy stuff like this anyway, so she would do it for you. She wore the two of you down and received a quiet thank you with a polite smile from both of you.

She had planted her first seed. You could never afford to buy him gifts like this.

When the meals arrived, Joel, again, was not reacting the way she wanted him to. He only talked to you in low voices, as if Nell wasn’t even there, unenthusiastically eating the food without any comments. And you, as usual, just looked uncomfortable with all the food and the many cutleries on the table. The two of you didn’t even finish your caviar. She tried to get the two of you to talk about the wedding, but you said it was too early to plan. And a lightbulb turned on in her head.

She will pay for the wedding. She will plan it! It’s genius. She will have access to Joel, and you will be none the wiser!

She held your hand, eyes brimming with fake happy tears, telling you that you deserve everything good, that you had always made her happy, and to let her do this for you. But again, you said no. It’s alright Nellie, we will take care of everything ourselves. No need to go out of your way for us. You patted her hand with yours, and that was when Nell saw your engagement ring for the first time. She had assumed he didn’t get you one, but apparently he did.

It was nothing to shout about. The diamond was small. It didn’t even look new. You told her that it was his mother’s ring. Nell cringed internally at that – what a cheapskate. He didn’t even buy her a new ring?

Something swelled in her heart. A realisation.

He didn’t really love you. He would spend money on a new one if he did. And he didn’t bother. Instead, he slapped on his late mother’s ratty, cheap old ring on you.

So, she made a comment on what a great idea that was, saved so much money, huh Joel? You smiled politely and told her that it was the thought that counted, his mother’s ring held a high value in your eyes, that he thought you special enough to give you something that was hers – the woman who gave birth to him, someone he loved very much.

Sure, Nell thought, whatever.

But she was convinced she had planted the second seed. He wasn’t willing to spend money on you. Surely that would plant some doubt in your head.

When leaving the restaurant, Nell asked if the two of you would like to go to a bar, but the two of you declined. She asked where you were going, maybe she could join you? But Joel quickly answered that the two of you wanted to spend the rest of the night alone. Again, very politely. She was starting to lose her patience. What’s with all the politeness? And couldn’t he just let go of your hand? Shove the fact that he wanted you and not her in her face, Joel Miller. Stupid man. Blind man.

But such a sexy man. A sexy man she wanted to try. She needed to. He was the only man who had ever rejected her. And he was brought down to his knees by you. You. Of all people. The one who only had nice things out of her parents generosity, the one who wore her handouts. The one who wore a brandless pump and home-sewn summer dress to dinner at a fancy restaurant.

She needed him to see that he was settling with you. She could tell that deep down, he was not that into you. How could he be? When he wouldn’t even spend money on you when it came to what was supposed to be the symbol of his love. He could have so much more with her. Even looking at him now, in his generic brand dress shirt and jeans, she could tell that you never bothered to shower him with gifts. What respectable woman would let a man as fine as Joel Miller wear generic brands? God, you were so stupid.

As she was driving out, she saw you pressed up against the door of his truck, him kissing you passionately. She wanted him to do that with her. God! It’s so infuriating! She drove around aimlessly for a while, before deciding to head to a club. And she saw the two of you again. At your favourite Taco Truck, shoving tacos into your mouths and laughing with each other, Joel looking so happy and content she wanted to scream. She spent thousands for dinner, and didn’t get so much as a smile from him – both of you looking so uncomfortable and out of place in the restaurant, and now you’re eating tacos and elated about it? Ugh!

Maybe he’s too much of a low life for her. Who preferred cheap dollar tacos to caviar? Maybe she should give up this quest to fuck Hung Miller and let the low-class man marry the low-class you.

But no. You had always taken everything that was hers. She was going to take what was yours. For once. See if you liked it. You should know what it felt like to have people that was yours taken away from you, and how much it hurt to see them happier with her than with you.

The next day, Nell went shopping. She spared no expense, buying Joel all the branded clothes she could get her hands on. She stopped by your place and saw that Joel’s truck was there, but your Creaky was not. She almost jumped with joy when she went knocking. Joel opened the door, but the smile on his face turned off when he realized it was her. He straight up told her that you were not home. Nell tried very hard not to take his obvious lack of enthusiasm to see her to heart, but she was starting to feel like he didn’t want to see her, which was impossible, of course.

She told him that she had presents for him. Without opening the door further he asked her why? She tried to push the door open, but he wouldn’t let her. So, she pressed up to the door as close as she could and told him a fine man such as himself deserve better than generic brands. He was engaged to her best friend now, and this was her way to try and be his friend. He told her there was absolutely no reason she should be his friend too. They didn’t even know each other. She told him they could get to know each other, her eyes basically fucking him up and down. He was about to tell her to come back when you were home when Creaky’s classic sounds came around the corner.

Nell took a disappointed step back, and Joel rushed out to greet you. She saw him talk to you quietly for a bit, and you asked her what she was doing there. She showed you the bags she had with her, presents for Joel, she said. You smiled politely and told her she didn’t have to do all that. She waved it off and said anything for her best friend’s new fiancé. When she drove off, she noticed that the bags were still outside, you and Joel discussing something, you obviously not looking too happy. She smiled smugly to herself. She would’ve gone mental if she had found a beautiful, rich woman such as herself at her door with such a handsome fiancé, and had gone shopping for him, at that.

She had planted another seed. You must have been jealous to find her there with all those expensive clothes for him. All she had to do was keep planting them. And her efforts will grow and be fruitful.

That night, she went clubbing again. Her parents had been at her ears all day about getting a job. She wasn’t interested. It wasn’t like she needed the money. So, she danced the night away, looking for someone to be a distraction for the night, until she could get her hands on Joel Miller. But no one was biting. In fact, men avoided her like the plague. She couldn’t understand it. And then, from afar, she saw Tommy. Perfect.

As she got nearer, she noticed something. He was wearing the clothes she had bought for Joel. And his Rolex. The very same one she had bought for Joel. She commented on them, and he just told her that Joel gave them to him, Joel was never comfortable with expensive stuff.

What? Of all the nerve!

He pulled her outside. She tried to kiss him, but he kept her at arm’s length. Told her that she had to stop. Stop what? Tommy knew she was after Joel. Not only had she openly complained about Joel choosing you instead of her to him at the beginning, but she had also openly tried to get his attention from the start. Everyone knew she was after Joel. Everyone could see, even you, Tommy said. She made it so obvious when they were working at her house. And now, she was making it even more so damn obvious. She had done to Joel what she had always done to the men she was after, which was throw money at them. Joel will never fall for that. He had never been impressed by money. He told her that Joel was in love with you. He wanted you, and not her. Please leave him alone. He’s marrying you. He’s happy.

He hasn’t married you yet, she told him, and left.

Her frustrations were burdensome that night. She didn’t get to bring anyone home; no one wanted to entertain her. She got rejected by Tommy, of all people. Joel had rejected her gifts to him. Tommy had the audacity to suggest that Joel would never want her.

And she also found out you knew. You knew all along she had her sights on Joel back then, and still you went after him. Seduced him. Dated him. Moved in with him. Agreed to marry him. And now, she realized, it must have been you that morning she spent the night at your place - you had the gall to initiate sex with him, knowing she was right in the next room. Show off much? She knew there was no way he could initiate sex with someone like you. She just knew it.

She could not let you get away with this. She could not let you marry Joel and trap him like this. You didn’t love him, you just wanted him because she had her sights on him first. Just like you wanted her friends. And her parents. And Tony. Why else would they all prefer you to her. The only explanation was that you had manipulated them somehow, just like you were doing to Joel. She had to put a stop to this before it’s too late.

She needed to talk to you. She needed to pretend she was still on your side, she had to befriend Joel somehow and warn him. She knew if she could just get him to see her properly, he would fall for her and leave you. She spent the next week trying to reach you. You were not at home. Neither was Joel. Her calls went unanswered, and messages unsent, but you hadn’t blocked her.

Where were you?

Finally after 10 days you returned her calls. You were on your honeymoon and didn’t have cell service.

What?

You and Joel eloped.

Joel was married.

To you, of all people.

And you didn’t even have the courtesy to invite her.

Obviously her usual tactics were not working.

As she hugged you with a fake congratulations, she made a new vow.

She needed to up her game.

***

WARNING: Light descriptions of Sexual Assault (On a Male Character)

Implied Drink Spiking

Some possibly inaccurate description of being drugged

Some descriptions of smut via voyeurism

You had a small gathering at a restaurant in town for your wedding and invited everyone. Everyone was so happy for you and Joel. You two had asked that in lieu of presents; everyone should donate something to the local children’s hospital where you worked. Nell had scoffed at this news. Just your MO. Saint Aria. You just had to be the one to do good. But she had to remember her end goal. She had to save Joel from you. So she smiled and clapped, along with everyone else, who had collectively decided to not engage her for long.

Every time she caught Joel alone and tried to engage him, someone conveniently needed him elsewhere, and he willingly followed. God. This guy was like a cow on a leash. No wonder it was so easy for you to trap him.

She tried to blend in, tried to catch up with the girls, as they say. But none of them wanted to linger with her. And none introduced their significant others to her. She tried to not let the fact that she was never invited to any of their weddings bother her, but it did. You were invited. You were bridesmaid, or maid of honour to quite a few of them. And she was cast out. She should’ve gotten used to it, all her friends gravitate towards you after she introduced you to them, but it still hurt. And now you had pulled the ultimate betrayal. Stealing Joel Miller from right under her. But patience, Nell. Patience. She had to play it cool, so that ultimately, people will see you for who you really were.

Her parents gave you a cheque for the hospital, and then another, just for the bride and groom. Despite the usual push and pull, they were insistent that you two accepted it, to start your life with, please, they said. Her father hugged Joel, asking him to take care of you, telling him that you were family, and now, so was he. He even danced with you after you had your father-daughter dance with your dad, your dad proudly declaring him your second father. You and Joel shared a dance, Joel holding you close, kissing you sweetly throughout.  

Mr Miller got all choked up during his speech, talking about how much he and his wife loved you, and how his late first wife would have loved you, and that no one deserved that engagement ring of hers more than you. And if you already had two father figures, he would gladly accept being the third, and that he already loved you as the daughter he never had.

Susan talked about what a sweet one you were. Ever since you were a baby. Always giving in to Nell, never wanting a fight, never in a strop – the gentlest person, the best person they all knew, a fact which was greeted with a lot of cheers and murmured agreements from everyone. Your friends gushed about you. Joel’s friends and Tommy talked about how dreamy he got when he was crushing hard on you. How happy they all were that both of you had found each other. How perfect you were for each other.

After hearing the speeches, Nell couldn’t stand it anymore. She went outside under the guise of a smoke. Tommy was there, already halfway through his own cigarette. She complained out loud about you. Why did everyone love you so much? She had the advantage on you in every way that counted. She was better than you. Much better looking, so much richer, so much more experienced in bed, as he could testify, she’s sure. She could offer everyone more than you could. And yet people were gagging for your attention and left her out like the leper. People were so stupid. So fucking stupid.

Tommy exhaled his last puff after listening to her rants, telling her that maybe she should grow up, join the real world, look at herself and think about what really mattered to people when it came to choosing friends, found family and loved ones. And then he walked back inside, leaving her there, still stewing.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What else mattered? Stupid man. He was just bitter she was lusting after his brother instead of him. Never mind. What could she expect from a low-class man-whore like Tommy Miller?

About a week after the reception, she decided to get back into action. She had contacted a man she knew who could get her things for the right price. She went over to your place, under the guise of bringing you a wedding present, waving your concerns away with her hand as usual. Joel had gone out running, and you were mixing something in a blender, making him a protein shake for when he came back. When Joel got home, Nell excused herself.

She watched your household for several weekends, learning your routines, your ins and outs, your movements. She was discrete, making sure you couldn’t see her. She needed to be careful. She had kept up the façade of staying away from the two of you, but staying friendly and calling you as she normally did. She couldn’t afford to have you suspicious.

One Saturday, your house was a little too quiet – Joel didn’t go running that morning. She got curious and went closer to see what was going on, prepared to pretend like she had just dropped by to give you something if need be. She went snooping at the windows, and finally, when she got to the kitchen windows, she saw what was delaying his run.

You were bent over behind the kitchen island, your shirt lifted up, Joel bent over you, his sweatpants lowered to his knees, his hands on your breasts, fucking you with such fervour you were reduced to a moaning mess. He was holding you close to him, his head next to yours, telling you that you made him feel so good, that he couldn’t get enough of you, that you were the sexiest woman in the world to him, that he needed you so much, loved you so much, that he wanted to put his baby in you, his hand snaking in between your legs and you shuddered and shook so wildly, screaming his name, as he made you cum. She watched as he finished inside you, collapsing on you, before pulling you to the floor where she could no longer see you both, but she could hear you two laughing and giggling and kissing, legs entangled on the kitchen floor.

Nell couldn’t believe her eyes. How could you do that to her? How could he? She was the one who had always made the effort to get him, and there he was, fucking your brains out. Just you wait, Joel Miller, she thought, as she made her way back to her car, her heart thumping with resolve.

The next day, she waited until Joel had gone out running. She had to be precise, she had timed everything. About five minutes before he was due back, she ran to your door, screaming your name, telling you that your mom had been in an accident, but no one could reach you. You immediately panicked, grabbed your purse and left, leaving the key under the pot for Joel. He never took his keys with him when he went running. She told you she would meet you at the hospital, and pretended to get into her car, as you peeled off the drive.

She went inside with the key you left, set things up, and waited on the couch.

Joel came back shortly, walking in through the slightly opened door, calling your name, placing his phone on the mantel. He froze when he saw her, before asking her where you were. She told him you had to run out to the store really quickly, you should be back any minute. He nodded, and seeing she was just sitting there scrolling through her phone, went into the kitchen. He took the shake you had prepared and drank it thirstily in several gulps. She heard his phone vibrate; saw that it was you calling him and hid it under the cushions. He came back into the living room and told her she should go. The two of you had plans. He should probably get ready.

Nell stalled, asking him where the two of you were going, could she come along? Joel quickly said no. He made a start to walk to the front door to open it for her when he stumbled. Joel couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt weird. His eyesight got all loopy, he felt drunk, his body felt heavy, his head disorientated. Nell got up and helped him stand, he tried to push her off, but she shushed him gently, and helped him to the couch. It took a few minutes for him to still – he kept trying to stand and get away from her, but after a few minutes his breathing relaxed and he laid still on the couch, both feet splayed on the floor, his head on the backrest, his hands limp by his sides, his eyes fighting to stay open.

Nell got to work. You would be back soon, and she needed to set the scene. She took his pants off and was immediately rewarded by what she had always wanted to confirm. Hung Miller was indeed, hung. Her mouth salivated at the sight of him, even flaccid. She sat between his splayed legs and put her mouth on him. He weakly tried to push her off, but she pinned his hands to the side, cooing at him to stop fighting it. You know you want this, Joel. I know you want me. I’m going to save you from her, Joel. It’s not right. This monster cock right here shouldn’t belong to a prude like her. He kept trying to push her off, fighting the drunken feeling in his head. She continued sucking him, it took a while before he even responded, thickening slightly under her assault. There you go, she crooned at him. Just as she was about to take him in her mouth again, the door fully opened.

You were standing right there, taking in what you came home to, after successfully reaching your mom through a phone call.

You calmly told her to get off your husband and get out of your house. She stammered excuses after excuses, telling you that they hadn’t meant for you to find out like this, that she was sorry, but they were in love, and she just wanted you to be happy, so she let you have him. Please Aria, forgive me, she said through tears. Please don’t leave him. He loves you, please Aria. You asked her how long? She told you it had been going on since she came back to town, at his office while you were at work. No one else knew, she swore. Again, you calmly told her to get out, you never wanted to see her again. She nodded weakly, and left, a satisfied smile on her face.

You looked at your husband, and immediately sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t responding to you the way a husband caught with his pants down would. You slapped his face to get him to focus on you, but it didn’t work. You tried to pull him up, but he was much heavier than you, and he fell back limply onto the couch. Your wrath turned into worry in an instant.

You called 911 immediately.

***

Nell waited for the fallout. Hours, days, weeks, and then a couple months went by, but none came. She hadn’t heard anything about you and Joel divorcing. She called a few people under the pretence of catching up, but no one entertained her. Everyone claimed to be busy and had no time to catch up. Some straight up declined her calls. But she saw a bunch of them hanging out at the usual spot, and then she noticed you. You and Joel were there - his arm happily around your shoulder, the two of you merrily laughing and chatting with your friends as if nothing happened.

You two were still together? How was that possible? Why didn’t it work? What else would it take? You literally came back to her giving your husband a blowjob, and you didn’t leave him? Didn’t you have any dignity at all?

She asked her parents if they had heard anything about you and Joel, and they said no. She tried calling Tommy, but he never picked up. Your mom didn’t pick up either. She was starting to feel left out. She had to find out.

She went to the usual club to find Tommy. He was there, this time with a woman, looking all cosy and intimate. He didn’t introduce her to Nell, and when Nell introduced herself, the woman looked away and busied herself with her phone. Tommy told her he didn’t have time for her tonight, he’s with someone. Nell asked anyway, if everything was fine with you and Joel as she had ‘heard some rumours’. Tommy took the lady by the hand and left. Nell went after him, asking him questions incessantly, but he ignored her.

She chased him and the woman all the way to his car before he aggressively walked towards her and warned her to leave him and his family the fuck alone. That he was done talking to her.

She got desperate. She went over to your house the next day. She waited until Joel came back from his run. When he saw her, he warned her to stay the fuck away from him and his wife. Nell tried to tell him that she was only doing that for their benefit, that they were meant to be together, it’s not too late. When you came out, she told you that she was in love with Joel, and he with her. You should take the high road and leave, let them be happy. Joel stood in front of you and raised his voice at her.

“Leave us alone. I am not kidding Nell. I don’t have any feelings for you. You and I are not together. We have never been together. And we will never be together. You are not fooling anyone. Be thankful I don’t have enough proof to report you for what you did. Leave us the fuck alone. Or I will get the law involved.”

“Joel, I understand you need to say this in front of Aria. But Joel, you don’t understand. She’s trapping you. She manipulated you. She made you believe we were a lie. Joel, please, open your eyes. Come back to me Joel. Please.”

Joel looked at her incredulously.

“You need help, Nell. Stay away from me. Stay away from my wife. Stay away from us.”

He turned around and took you in his arms, escorting you in. She called out to him again.

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

***

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

Joel huffed a long, frustrated breath. You just looked resigned and tired.

“How is that possible? I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone fuck you. Get help Nell, seriously.”

He took you inside and shut the door.

Fuck.

Why the fuck would she say that? She had taken it too far, right? This was going to blow in her face, wasn’t it?

Shit.

Think Nell, think. Bigger game plan.

What an ass. She told him she was pregnant, and he dismissed her? What a twat. Any normal man would panic, and this dude was just looking at her like she was crazy. And you. You would think that any normal woman would freak the fuck out if some woman was blowing your husband and claimed to have an affair with him. Suspicious, at the very least. Doubtful, perhaps. Angry, even. But you just stood there and took it. Such a pushover. You were living proof that a fancy degree didn’t mean squat. Dumb bitch.

Welp. She should give up. She really should. There was no way she could get away with this.

But then she wouldn’t get him.

And she really wanted him.

Sure, at first it was just about sampling his famously monster cock, but in her quest to seduce him since the beginning, she had seen him around you. Seen your relationship as husband and wife. Even when he was just looking at you from afar as he was working back in her house all that time ago, Nell envied the way he looked at you. It was never lust. Even back then, he never looked at you like you were a piece of meat he wanted to fuck. He looked at you like there were no other women on this planet. And then there were the ways he acted around you. How he was with you. How loving. How gentle. How romantic. How passionate. How doting. Like his life revolved around you. Even drugged, he was resisting her, loyal to you.

No one had ever looked at her the way Joel looked at you. Not even Tony.

She wanted that. She wanted someone to treat her the way he treated you. But not just any man, she wanted him.

When she got home, she laid on her bed and thought hard about her life, or the lack of one. Her parents had been nagging her to get a job or go back to school. Figure out a life for herself, they said. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. Not like they were destitute. Her spending were change found at the bottom of the couch to her dad. Now they had given her a deadline. Get a job or go back to school within three months, or they will cut her off.

Great. Now she had to go back to school and learn something. Again. Realistically, what job could she get that would fit her lifestyle? She spent hundreds on manicure alone. What minimum wage job would keep that up?

Fuck.

Maybe Tommy was right. She should grow up. Think clearly. Objectively.

Why did it bother her so much that Joel was in love with you? She wondered if she would feel like this if he had married someone else. She kept fixating on you. The fact that you got him bothered her.

What was this animosity she had with you?

For years she kept blaming it on her parents. They preferred you. You were their dream daughter. They neglected her. Prioritized you. So, naturally, she held a grudge against you.

But did they?

The truth was, she couldn’t even say that they were ever neglectful of her. Sure, they had offered you a lot of things your parents couldn’t possibly afford, but it was always after her needs were taken care of first, and you never took their offer, at least not when you started having an after-school job. You had always found your own ways to get what you needed, worked hard for everything. When you were little, you wore her hand-me-downs, played with toys she no longer wanted, read books her parents bought for her that she never bothered to read, gave in to her when she didn’t get her way. She had always been their priority. You were always second.

And yet, you were the one who helped every day when Susan suffered from her stroke. She came home for one summer where she didn’t lift a finger to help her own mother and took off without looking back, spending their money on a whim until she got kicked out of the university and had nowhere else to go. Honestly, right now? Even she could see why they saw you as a daughter. And still, they prioritized her, supported her, loved her, spent money on her, and tried to help her better herself.

She realized then what her actual problem with you was. What she really couldn’t stand about you. It was the fact that you were born lesser than her - in status, looks, background, opportunities – yet you always came out on top. In everything.

She had grown up always getting what she wanted. You had to work hard for everything you wanted. And now, what she wanted was Joel, she tried so hard to capture his attention, and couldn’t even get him to glance at her. And you got him to cater to your every need without trying.

It pissed her off.

But now, she had gone too far. You had never been unkind to her. Her friends may have left her for you, but you had always stayed.

Maybe it’s time to come clean. Accept defeat.

Sigh. So far, taking Tommy’s advice, being a grown up, a good person, sucked.

There was a knock on her door. Her parents came in when she answered. They looked dead serious. Worried, too, she sensed. As soon as her mother sat on her bed, Nell felt a prickling at the back of her neck. They told her your mom had called them. Told them about the baby. Was it true? Was she pregnant? With Joel’s baby?

This was it. Just confess Nell. No going back.

Get it over with. Just confess. And it’ll all blow over soon.

Go on, just say it.

NO!

Instead, she nodded, tears falling thickly on her cheeks.

She told them ‘everything’. How she and Joel had always wanted each other, how they carried out an affair from the moment she got back, how you had caught them at your house together, how you had poisoned him against her, and now he wouldn’t admit to the affair at all. And now she was pregnant with his baby, and he wouldn’t take responsibility and it was your fault! She knew you weren’t as perfect as everyone thought you were. You were conspiring against her all along!

Her parents listened; Susan held her until she fell asleep.

When they left the room, they had a discussion on how to handle this matter delicately.

They left her to ‘mourn and be sad’ for a few days. They came in to talk to her every day. Made sure she was alright, that she ate, drank, showered, and slept. And then they told her that they had a plan. There was no way Joel was going to be able to back out of his responsibility this way. Come on, get ready. We’re going out.

They drove her to the hospital and told her she needed to get a paternity test. Joel will join them there.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

How was she going to get out of this one?

She refused, saying that she didn’t want to see you. No, dear, Aria won’t be there. He promised. So, she went, having no other option but to obey. Joel was, indeed, there. There was no sign of you anywhere. She put on a happy face, a façade for the ‘affair’ for her parents, and went to kiss him, but he took a step back. She could see her parents’ frustrations with him. But he just looked fed up with this whole arrangement.

The doctor asked her a few questions first, reminding her that the conversation may be recorded since this was contestable in court.

(Oh, shit. This had gone too far now, just stop with the whole play, Nell. Just fucking confess while you still could!)

The doctor asked her a list of questions. When was her last period. When was the last time they had sex. And more mundane, very private questions.

She answered all of them. Joel scoffing and rolling his eyes at every single one that involved his… supposed participation.

When she laid on the bed for the ultrasound, she reached out to Joel so that he could hold her hand. She had imagined Joel holding your hand if you were doing this. She wanted that. But he stayed stock still where he was, not even looking at her. Her parents were looking at her with unreadable expressions. Joel ignored her. Her parents didn’t say anything, didn’t intervene either. Her father looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided not to.

When the doctor conducted the ultrasound, of course, she found nothing.

She was not pregnant.

Was never pregnant.

Joel left the room immediately, after releasing a very long breath of annoyance.

When the doctor explained all this to her, Nell cried. She was hysterical. She cried so much her parents came over to console her.

Might as well commit to the bit now, she thought.

“Did I imagine it all? Oh God, what have I done? I have to find Aria and Joel. I have to apologize to them!”

She dramatically ran down the hall, calling for Joel. When she saw him, she told him she was sorry, she didn’t know what was happening to her. Please forgive me Joel. Please.

When Joel turned, Nell saw that you were there in his arms. You looked at her with tears in your eyes. You didn’t seem angry, but you had a look of… pity? She couldn’t stand it.

She saw red again.

You were the reason she had to stoop this low. She lunged forward to scratch your face, but security caught her by the waist and pulled her back. Joel immediately got you out of there, making sure she couldn’t get to you.

The next thing she knew, she was restrained, and then everything went black.

***

Susan and your mom went to visit Nell at the place where she was ‘resting’, at least, that was what her family told everyone. Your mom gave her flowers from you, telling her that you couldn’t make it, you were busy at work. But you did say hi and hoped that she was doing better.

Nell smiled and took the flowers from you. She was feeling much better, she told the two mothers. These past few months had helped a lot. She felt rested, clear, happy. She had worked hard at recovery. She was never diagnosed with anything, or at least she was never told that she suffered from anything, the doctors thought she just needed rest. A few months away from stress, just until her delusions went away.

The delusions, she had admitted to her therapist, that caused her to spiral and conjured an entire affair that never happened. That could not have possibly happened since Joel didn’t have an office where this affair had supposedly taken place at, since Joel was out of town the whole time the ‘pregnancy’ was supposedly conceived, working on a project in the next state over. The delusions that could have destroyed her best friend’s marriage. That could have torn families apart. She cried in therapy when she talked about it. She felt so guilty. How could she had spiralled that badly? Was she so hung up on a man who never paid her any attention? To the point of sexually assaulting him? What was wrong with her? She was so thankful that you and Joel decided not to press charges. So thankful that her parents saw through the whole thing and got her help.

She made so much progress. She slept better, ate better, took time to meditate, and really, really found herself, she told the therapist. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to rejoin society, but she felt as if she would do so much better than before. She finally saw the errors of her ways, and understood, for once in her life, why people were so drawn to you. She should be more like you. You were selfless, that’s why people loved you. You had always dedicated your life to serve others. Even chose a line of work that would make sick children feel better. What could be more noble? She was even thinking of going back to school, locally, of course, so she could be close to her parents.

She told Susan and your mom that she would be released soon, but if it’s alright with her parents, she would take it easy for a while, before looking into courses she could take at the local university. One step at a time.

Both ladies heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that she was doing better.

***

When Nell finally went home a couple of months later, she had not seen you or Joel in eight months. When she got home, she told you, via text, that she wasn’t quite ready to face you, the embarrassment was too great. You understood. The two of you spent a couple of weeks just texting, like old times, before moving on to calls, and eventually, FaceTime.

The first time you FaceTime with her, she was nervous. She didn’t know how forgiving you were, just the thought of seeing your face mortified her. But you were beyond understanding, seemingly just happy to see your friend well again. Joel never joined your sessions, though. He wasn’t ready to face her, and to be frank, he wasn’t quite as trusting as you, believing that you should be careful with her, that he had an unease at the pit of his stomach about her. That you were too nice, too gullible. He just didn’t trust her at all. You understood, you would feel like that too, if you were him, after what she had done to him. So you and Nell chatted on FaceTime alone. She said you looked different – you were glowing. You brushed it off, saying she was seeing her own reflection on the phone, the two of you giggling like schoolgirls again. It was nice to get your old friend back, newly improved, in fact. She seemed lighter, merrier. You were proud of her for getting help.

After two months of being home, Nell said she was finally ready to meet with you. In public, of course. The two of you had agreed to meet at a café you frequented. When she arrived, you were already there. You looked radiant.

And very pregnant. 

Nell hugged you, disbelief in her eyes. You were just entering your eighth month and made fun of your waddling as you sat back down. You wanted to surprise her, you said. She seemed genuinely happy for you. Was it a boy or girl? Have you picked a name? When were you due? She was excited when you referred to her as Auntie Nell, touched that you were even considering having her in your baby’s life after everything she had done to you.

After the initial glow of baby talk had passed, Nell took your hand in hers, and looked you in the eyes. She was teary, looking so apologetic, and begged you for forgiveness. She didn’t know what came over her. I am so sorry, Aria. Please, sister, forgive me. You hugged her tight, telling her it’s okay. It’s all in the past. Let’s move forward, yeah? When Nell finally let go of you, her face was wet with tears, but she felt a thousand times lighter.

The two of you chatted a bit more, catching up on gossip, and the ongoings in the town. Finally, Joel’s truck pulled up. Nell froze. Joel got out to help you up and get into the truck. Nell kept her distance after giving you one last hug and told Joel how sorry she was about everything. She would take it all back if she could. She knew he might never forgive her, ever, but hoped that one day he would find it in his heart to forgive her. Joel nodded curtly, before he helped you into the truck, gave you a quick kiss, and ran around to the driver’s side.

***

About two weeks before your due date, you were advised to stay home.  You had gotten so big everything was swollen, and moving became a challenge. You told Nell this over the phone as you sat on your couch trying to decide what movie to watch, and how bored you were just sitting at home doing nothing. You couldn’t even clean – bending over became almost impossible without the possibility of toppling over. After you hung up, you started a movie, and received a text from Nell, asking if she and her mother could come over and keep you company – maybe watch the movie with you? Bring you Chinese food? They could bring their maid over; help you clean a bit?

You immediately said yes, your hunger and exasperation at your messy house taking over.

When she knocked on the door, you answered after what felt like five minutes, getting up from the couch unassisted had become some CrossFit challenge with how big you had gotten. Nell came in, bags of Chinese take-out in her hands, marveling at how much baby stuff was in your living room. So many plushies and teddy bears and half made furniture, waiting for Joel to get home to finish assembling. You asked her where Susan was. You thought she was coming? Ah, she’s parking the car, she said.

You leaned out the door to greet her, but Nell’s car was right there in your driveway, no Susan anywhere.

Something sharp pricked you in the neck.

And a pair of hands caught you as you lost consciousness.

***

WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOODY ATTACK

Nell sat in the defendant’s chair in the large courtroom, waiting for the jury to return. It had been a long few months for her. She couldn’t believe she was here. The nerve of some people. What was so wrong with wanting something, or in her case, someone? Her dumbass of a lawyer didn’t even try. She wanted to take the deal, for crying out loud. Screw the evidence. She was going to fight this. The juries will see she was in the right.

She had waited until you were awake again. She tied you up so you wouldn’t struggle. She needed to tell you she won, after all. Nice guys finish last, all that. She needed the satisfaction. She couldn’t believe how gullible you were. To trust her again after everything. Such a stupid bitch. Who would do that? Well, you would, evidently.

You kept asking her if she had taken her medication that day. That she was not thinking straight. She laughed at the idea that you were so straightlaced that you didn’t even know about tonguing your meds. How did you ever satisfy Joel, she had asked, if you didn’t even know what a tongue could do? He doesn’t deserve you, you prude. And what made you think she needed medications in the first place? She faked the whole delusions thing, you idiot. She didn’t spend years at acting school for nothing. She may have flunked out, but she did learn some useful skills. Her parents had started threatening to cut her off if she didn’t get a job soon, and she wanted Joel. Having delusional thoughts seemed the perfect opportunity to get out of adult responsibilities, and simultaneously, break your joke of a marriage up. That place her parents had sent her to was basically a luxurious five-star spa, and she got to lounge about for eight months at the price of spouting bullshit her therapists wanted to hear every couple of days.

You asked her why. What had you ever done to her to merit this? Because you always needed to be better than her. Even in infancy, you started walking before she did, even though she was born two whole weeks before you. You started talking first. You got better grades than her. Did better at piano than her. Got the best parts in school plays than her. You were liked better than her. Even her parents thought of you as the better daughter, even though they were not your real parents. All her friends liked you better than her. Her boyfriends liked you more than her. Men in general wanted you more than her. You got into a better programme than her in college, a programme that her parents were so proud of, they kept telling everyone about it, and yet her own accomplishments went unnoticed. And your biggest mistake of all? You let Joel Miller fall in love with you. You married him. Got pregnant with his baby. It should’ve been her. She deserved it, not you. She could offer him so much more than you could.

But it had become quite clear that he was besotted with you, and as long as you were around, he was never going to get over you.

So, you needed to go.

You begged her not to harm your baby. Please, don’t do anything to my baby. Please, Nell.

Oh you silly bitch, she would never do anything to Joel Miller’s baby. She was going to be there for him and raise the baby with him. It’s you that’s in her way, not your baby.

And with that, she jabbed you with another dose of sedative. She put gloves on and began to cut your baby out of your stomach.

She didn’t anticipate the problems she would face. She had watched so many videos on YouTube, but still, it took forever to cut you open. She had to be careful. She didn’t want to hurt the baby. She needed the baby alive, sure that Joel would mourn too long if he lost you both. The baby was the excuse she needed to spend time with him, to help him. After what felt like hours, she managed to cut you open.

She didn’t anticipate how much blood would be involved. But she persevered. She cut the layers that follow, and finally, after some struggles with an obscene amount of fluid, managed to get your baby out. It’s a girl. She was so happy. She pictured herself and Joel raising this little girl together, happiness finally within reach.

But the baby wasn’t crying. Wasn’t breathing. She panicked. If this baby died, Joel would never recover from your death. She needed this baby alive. Fuck. She had to call 911. But she couldn’t risk you being rescued. It was vital that you must die. She checked where she thought your pulse would be. She couldn’t really feel anything, couldn’t hear your heartbeat either. She washed her hands and got rid of the gloves and plastic apron she was wearing. She took a deep breath and dialled 911.

She gave the performance of a lifetime. She had just walked in to find you bleeding on the floor, your baby cut out of you. Please send help. She couldn’t find a pulse. Oh my God please don’t let my sister die. Please God. Her baby is not breathing, please hurry. She sobbed her way through the call, all the way until the paramedics and the police arrived minutes later. They cut the umbilical cord and cleared your baby’s airway, and after a while, she cried. You were still breathing, albeit very slowly. You had lost a lot of blood.

Nell panicked. You couldn’t still be alive. But she couldn’t do anything. She was surrounded by the police and paramedics. As they were loading you into the ambulance, a panicked Joel and Tommy arrived. Joel said something to Tommy, and Tommy went right inside. Joel climbed into the ambulance and off it went at full speed. She was stuck there, having to give her statement to the police. She was still keeping up with her acting skills, the grieving best friend who was so traumatized she could hardly speak. Someone must have attacked you, and her arrival must have spooked them away. She pleaded with them to let her go to the hospital to be with you. They ignored her pleas. She needed to answer more questions.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Tommy speak to an officer. He brought the officer inside, and they came back out, a plastic evidence bag with a teddy bear in it in the officer’s hand.

She was brought to the station and placed in an interrogation room. She was there for hours. They kept asking her to repeat her version of events again and again. She was exhausted. She later learnt that she was there for eight hours. When she was finally let out, she saw Tommy giving his statement to an officer, along with some of your friends. But they weren’t held in an interrogation room. No one would tell her anything about you or your baby.

She rushed to the hospital, keeping up the appearance of being the worried best friend. There were police officers outside your room. They wouldn’t let her in. She saw a grief-stricken Joel sitting by your bed, his eyes red, his hair dishevelled, you unconscious still, your hand in his. He kept kissing your hand and stroking your head, worry and love written all over his very tired face. She imagined him looking at her with such love one day once you passed.

She went to the nursery and found your parents and Joel’s father and stepmother inside, holding your baby. When they left the room, they saw her, but walked away. Police officers guarded the nursery as well, and wouldn’t let her in. She followed the path your parents and Joel’s took and saw them hugging her parents. They looked at her with disappointment on their faces, and before she knew it, cuffs were slapped on her wrists, and she was arrested for attempted murder in the first degree.

The three sets of parents didn’t do anything to stop the officers, even her own. She was brought back to the interrogation room. She was protesting the whole way, saying that she needed to be with you. She didn’t understand why they arrested her. What evidence did they have to treat you this way?

An officer placed an iPad on the table, and pressed play.

It was a snippet of a video, with audio. All caught on the nanny cam that Joel had installed in a Teddy Bear and placed on the mantel. There she was, clear as day, cutting your stomach open.

The officer stopped the video, told her that she’d better pray the charges doesn’t escalate to murder in the first degree, and walked out.

The trial only took two days. Joel sat on the prosecution side, your parents, his parents, Tommy and your friends surrounding him. Even her own parents were sitting with him. They had paid for the best lawyer they could find to help the DA prosecute their own daughter. They didn’t even bother getting her one. She had to make do with the stupid lawyer that was provided by the county.

The DA offered a plea deal. Ten years in prison if she pleaded guilty. She declined. Her dumbass lawyer tried to get her to take the deal. No! Why would she? When had fighting for what’s rightfully yours a crime? And then, just her luck, the dumbass botched every single argument and defence she had.

You were a conniving bitch who stole the love of her life right from under her. You manipulated him into hating her. You turned everyone against her. She was emotionally driven to get back at you. She was a victim of your bullying. She snapped.

Everyone who was called to the stand disputed this – even Joel, even her own parents. Everyone testified that you were the sweetest person they knew. That Joel was in love with you since high school. Even his ex-girlfriend who he was dating at the time sent a statement to that fact. She only had high praise for you. They all recalled how she had shamelessly flirted with Joel since forever, only to be rebuffed by him. Even the fact that she had drugged him and assaulted him came to light. You had taken him to the hospital right after, and he tested positive for Rohypnol. The only reason they didn’t press charges was because they didn’t have proof that she was the one who laced his protein shake. And that was why Joel had installed the Nanny Cam when you started being friendly with her again.

She’s mentally unstable – she did suffer from delusions. She was delusional. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was even treated for it. It wasn’t her fault. Seeing you being pregnant with the child of the man she loved triggered her.

Except, the Nanny Cam footage caught her admitting to knowing what she was doing all along. That she was never delusional. That she knowingly did what she did to steal him from you, and to get out of having to work for a living.

And then there was all the forensic evidence – Nell realized there and then that just because one watched a lot of CSI, didn’t mean one could get away with attempted murder.

Of course, the most damning of all, was your testimony. You stared her straight in the eyes as you told the court what had happened. No love left in your eyes for her.

Guilty.

She was sentenced to 21 years in a prison at the other end of the country. Enough time for you, Joel and Sarah to disappear that she couldn’t find you when she did taste freedom again.

As they took her away, Nell got weak in the knees, begging you to forgive her. You turned around and walked out hand in hand with Joel and the rest of your family, never wanting to see her again.

***

You sat between Joel’s legs, his arms wrapped tight around you, his chin on your shoulder as the two of you watched Sarah hold Ellie’s hand while they searched for shells along the beach behind your new home. You had decided to move as far away as you can from your hometown. All three sets of parents came along with you, buying houses a couple streets over to be close to the kids, having retired and sold their businesses. Tommy met your new colleague Maria, and very quickly moved in with her. He proposed after only a few months. Joel and Tommy started their own woodworking company, not using the Miller name in case Nell got out and looked for you. You got a job at a local pharmaceutical company, doing what you did back in your hometown for better money. You couldn’t risk working at a hospital again for obvious reasons. No one wanted to stay in that town after what happened. A fresh start. For everyone.

It took a lot of therapy for you and Joel to get here. A lot of nightmares. But you got through it all. You couldn’t bring yourself to get pregnant again after what happened, so you and Joel adopted Ellie a few months ago. Sarah was flourishing and was so in love with her little sister. Joel had been your rock through all of this, despite what Nell did to him. He told you that he thanked God every day that he didn’t remember what happened, although it took a while for him to get back to his old self after. These days, he was still as protective as ever, working hard to provide for you and family, coming home to you and his girls every day with a huge smile on his face. He had become a bit grumpy around your new friends, wary of everyone now, but you loved him for it. He held you tight at night and had a hand on you at all times whenever you two would go out, even if he had one of the kids in his hands. Your nightmares were of being attacked, while his was of losing you. Those few days you were unconscious were the worst days of his life, and he was sure that he wouldn’t survive if he ever lost you.

Nell’s parents cut her off for good. They willed all their money to charity and your children, their grandchildren, as far as they were concerned. You had always been more of a daughter to them than Nell ever was, you cared for them when they needed you, while she was off galivanting in college.

She wrote to you every day for a whole year before you instructed the post office to return any letters from her address. You never read any of her letters. To your knowledge, no one had ever gone to visit her, using distance as an excuse, not that anyone would, even if she was nearby.

As far as you and Joel were concerned, you lives began after the incident. Anything before that was not worth mulling over. This, right here, the four you, and the family you have around you, were all that mattered. If the two of you could get through what Nell put you through, you could go through anything. Together.

[uniquecellest]

I like movie Moira McTaggert. I dislike how they give her so little sustance but that's also what I love?

"she's charles's love interest" In First Class she isn't given much with Charles (which yay love interest wise bc she can do better and nay in their lame attempt to make them seem romantically compatible) but she and Charles are close in like a best friends way but some other CIA agents assume it's more (they go with it bc 60s) meanwhile she's actually closer to Raven and imo it's Moira not Erik Raven goes to when she wants to know if someone can kiss her without her looking normal, Moira reassures her (Moira tells Hank off later then laughs when he comes in blue and furry before leaving for Cuba in like ironic you wouldn't kiss a naturally blue girl but now you're blue way)

where was she in DoFP which is where I imagine maybe she was there in 63 when Erik got arrested (workoholic bastard *affectionate*) and sure she doesn't remember Erik clearly but she kind of knows him so she may be sticks her neck out and gets him into the underground plastic cell (the other option was death and she just knows that that can't happen. Not only bc of the brotherhood but she vaguely remembers Charles's presence and knows Charles will not handle that shit well) and the reason why her course of action is accepted instead of dismissed or stolen by one of her male colleagues is bc Lady Kennedy spoke up for her, agreed to it, and was adamant in letting it be known that I was Moira's idea.

Then in Apocalypse she and Charles meet again (I'm re-writting the cringe ass meeting). In post DoFP with Charles and Hank re-opening the school he invites her over prior to the school opening that is when he gives her back her memories, she keeps the school quiet. Eventually she out-ranks Stryker and that pisses him off but oh well. Anyways he calls her over to Westchester because he knows something is wrong and she is the main one (aside from Lady Kennedy bc Lady Kennedy was a frequent visitor and writer to Erik) that has kept tabs on him at least where he lives and asks her to try contact him but then Apocalypse happens (Alex survives in my version) they all go and save Charles, Moira goes with Raven and Peter to knock some sense into Erik - in Moira's case literally. idk how but she does. Everything else follows in-verse minus Moira getting her memories back. Turns out Magda and Nina were alive and had been kidnapped but Magda and Erik divorce amicably as he doesn't want to put her in danger again and she has now seen first hand some shit that can happen to and around him. Nina goes to the Xavier school

(I'm making up a different movie in place of Phoenix) in the 90s they find out Banshee and Angel and some others are alive. They find out that the sentinals that killed them didn't kill them but teleported them somewhere else where Amahl Faruk finds them and brainwashes them into working for him. Hank, Raven, and Alex feel as though it is their duty - as the ones closest to them - to bring them back but Amahl is after Ororo and Charles. Hank, Raven, and Alex sneak out when the others are on a field trip overnight in like DC or something. in DC Moira is talking with Charles and Erik about a new mutant disturbance which throws them off as neither have detected any mutants in weeks which startles Moira bc how can the two strongest mutants not know. Amahl then hypnotizes Ororo and Charles - Academic he is still being up - feels that something is off and sees Storm but she doesn't feel right telepathically he calls to her to no avail, going after her Charles and Storm are kidnapped. Moira goes to the DC CIA office to gather Intel on what happened and threatens to cut everyone there a new one (Erik's with her and any beef they have, squashed. She's his bestie now) and with CIA Intel and plane they set off to save Charles and Ororo. (I can make this thing a whole post alone so I'm gonna stop here for now.)

but we still get the Paris proposal (Raven is also alive) Moira and Hank are Charles's Best Woman/Man, Raven is ordaining, with Magda and Angel as Erik's and Sean and Nina as the flower throwers (metal so Erik can reuse them later and make them last longer) and turns out Moira's son is a mutant (which for some explain her advocacy aside from her friendship with Charles) that becomes the ring bearer. And Alex is the first person to give a speech at the reception that makes everyone do a spit take

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Losing My Mind Over Veilguard 6/?? Aka the Dread Wolf Double Bind

These posts are getting up here in number (yes ma'am that is 1 2 3 4 5 instances of me not being able to get my shit together and coming back again for more)

and quite frankly there's nothing I can do about it until the "we've been treated and tormented by this game" demon has been exorcised from my body, so here we go again.

Today I give to you:

(Modeled after Inquisition Solas and his sad, bald-ass basset hound mage bum glory becuase I think it's important that newcomers know exactly who his fans fell in love with/who inspired his enemies to conduct speed-runs to punch him. Yassified Solas ran only because this mangled membranous man crawled first)

Part of what's making me lose my mind here, I've discovered, is a strange sort of survivor's guilt where everything I really like or really hate about Veilguard can be traced back to Solas and I don't know how to deal with it because we've never had such a divide before between one character getting ALL the content and everyone else from their game being left in the absolute dust.

Disclaimer: Yeah, no one from Origins has had more screen time across games than Morrigan at this point, and therefore no one has gotten more robbed of the substance of their character, but even the damage done to her wasn't the kind that warped an entire game. No, the devs saved that all for the Dread Wolf in the Room.

Even putting it down on paper and comparing the two in-game versions of him, it took me a second to work through why I'm so conflicted, but I think I've finally settled on a few key points.

Concern #1: Solas Haters Were Robbed.

Part of the allure of Solas is that if you want to punch that man in the face, you're gonna get the chance to punch him in the face. Is that my personal preference? No. But in a game where your companions are built to make you think instead of letting you turn your brain off, you're bound to have personalities that clash against yours. To have such a non-descript-looking iambic-pentameter-talking apostate be able to inspire strong emotions across the whole spectrum of players was part of his appeal. Now, as far as I understand it, you have four options at the end of Veilguard.

1. Solas lives and he might actually not hate himself some day.

2. Solas lives and he's absolutely going to write a diary entry a night about why he hates himself.

3. Solas lives and he's going to write a diary entry a night about why he hates YOU.

4. Solas lives and you better hope he never again figures out how to live in your general vicinity

Do you see my concern here? I, shamelessly, can admit that I would do unspeakable fictional things to get that man his happy ending (within reason...mostly...), but I feel like the game took the opportunity away from the players who threw that knife in their map at the end of Trespasser and vowed to take a bitch down for stealing their best armor and waxing poetic about the Grey Wardens while seemingly sitting on his ass and having no inclination to stop the blight (help). This, then, leads me into my second issue.

Concern #2: The Game Refuses to Give Solas room outside of its own agenda

In the near-decade it took for Solas to slip back into his trickster god persona, he seems to have forgotten why he began his quest to tear down the veil in the first place. I like that Rook gets to experience the version of our favorite hard boiled egg that near-singlehandedly tore down several empires by being an absolute terror to those with bigger egos. I like that new players are going to hear Solas tell them that they've earned his respect and actually believe it until they inevitably get their first taste of ancient elven betrayal. What I don't like? When a nuanced yearning for a world in which three majorly mistreated groups (spirits, elves, mages) would be free from many of the constraints that enabled their oppression suddenly becomes "I am doing this because if I don't I have betrayed my friend. Which friend you ask? Oh, the one that was on board with my plan until it no longer suited the story."

The combo of few characters from previous games and a sanitized near-blank slate for the setting of this game was deadly to one of its best-written characters. Because of it, Solas is forced to abandon his double-speak, the joy he takes in giving you scraps of an answer that, by the time you get it, you will already have missed the chance to piece it together from separate clues that he ALSO dropped. He's not going to get to show you the loyal followers the epilogue of Inquisition made clear that he has, because the game wants to usher you into the new future of the series. You're not going to get to ask him (or any NPCs for that matter) a bunch of questions so that you can form your own opinion of him, because all that matters is that he isn't Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain so let's move along, shall we?

Because the game needs exposition and a foil to its two other baddies, and needs it FAST, the mythic Dread Wolf becomes a plot device designed to get you where you need to go when you need to be there. It doesn't work purely for that reason alone, at least in my opinion, but it gets so much worse when a game that promises you that it's going to work for players new and old relies on someone experienced players want a personal reckoning with to guide every Rook through the game only to realize that those questions of morality regarding whether the veil is torturous for a subjugated few or the only thing preserving most of life as we know it are going to have to remain questions.

You don't get a choice of whether Solas is in your party or not, and you can't advance in the game without talking to him. You don't get to choose not to impress him. You don't get to choose whether you're going to work with him in the final battle, and as previously mentioned, your only real choice in how his story ends is one of four options in which he lives every time in varying states of self-loathing. You're still going to love him or hate him, but just how strongly you're able to show those feelings towards him is severely curtailed. And that's an absolute shame for a character that commanded such fierce attention.

And that's where, ultimately, I find myself with a weird amount of survivor's guilt.

When I finished my Veilguard playthrough, I had barely a moment to fully contemplate the amount of whiplash and disappointment I felt going from a Solas that I had spent almost a decade knowing to a One Dimensional Fen'Harel who threw out his core values and goals like they were chilling in a cup of tea before. Why? Because I very quickly felt guilty. And then I got angry for feeling guilty!

The game's failure to adequately represent its other characters and lore has created a world in which I don't like the Solas we've been given, but I can't live without him either. Who am I to complain that his most complex and compelling features are gone when other players are mourning the fact that the last they may ever hear of their favorite character is reduced to a scrap in the codex? How can I be frustrated at how the Lavellan reunion scene goes down when other players would kill for the chance to have their Inquisitor seemingly give any sort of shit about being in the game aside from being told it was mandatory to earn participation points? How can I lament the fact that his storyline seems to share all the wrong lessons to be learned from a toxic friendship rooted in a never-equalized power imbalance when someone else is watching Morrigan pull a complete 180 and wondering why the fuck they spent so much time researching whether or not her accepting her mother's choices as her own was what she truly wanted? At least Solas still loves Lavellan, even though we needed to ask Trick Weekes several follow up questions just to double check. At least Solas gets more in the epilogue than one empty "we remember the heroes that came before" platitude.

And to suddenly fear any appearances of past characters from a studio that used to make me stay up theorizing about how a character might grow and evolve and continue to impact the world I helped shape? It's depressing as hell, and it's why I was too scared to get attached to any of the new companions once I finally got past the writing and lack of complexity.

The people that hate Solas, deserved better.

The people that valued what he brought to their Inquisitor's small but strong group of friends deserved better.

The people that love Solas more than Sera loved pissing him off deserved better.

And new players, who had a chance to engage with one of the most powerful storylines in the game and instead got a heaping dose of Deus Ex Machina Lite, deserved better.

If taking a character that had the potential and power needed to shape an entire continent and banishing him one of four different ways to Fade jail so that the book could quickly be closed on a years-long legacy is what the studio is calling a return to their roots, I'll stick with the efforts of fans to create art and theories that aren't afraid to double down into what actually keeps people coming back for more.

[thcophagy]

laid out across the backseat of his car, caressing her curves and smiling impishly at him, lana looked just like one of the models in those old dirty magazines that sully kept hidden under his bed as a teenager. he should've known better than to fall for such overt seduction techniques but he wasn't thinking clearly, all that mattered in that moment was distracting himself from the guilt that was to inevitably come and instead touching lana like he'd been fantasying about for weeks upon weeks. there wasn't a lot of space to fit the both of them across the seats, especially not with what she seemed to have in mind but they could make it work, they had to as there wasn't any other options. with the object of his desires splayed out in front of him, sully was suddenly hit with the realisation that he didn't know what to do. he wasn't some teenage boy who had never known the touch of a woman before, he was a married man with children and a whole youth behind him filled with exploits, yet in that moment any of that experience might as well have been forgotten. he stared at her cunt with reverence, like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "christ." he muttered under his breath as he watched her spread herself open, her pretty pink folds glimmering with the evidence of her arousal and causing sully's mouth to water with the desire to lean down and taste her. he didn't though, he didn't move an inch. the hands that had helped roll up her dress rested on her waist, a touch so soft it was almost like it wasn't there at all. in response to her question, all he could do was nod, his eyes still fixated between her legs till he forced himself to look up and meet her gaze. "lana, i don't..." don't want this? don't know what to do? a million different versions of the end of that sentence flittered through his mind but he decided it was better left unfinished, allowing her to decide how to best respond. after all, she was the one who seemed to know what he needed, despite everything else about them that should've had him being the one in control, he was at the mercy of whatever she deemed was appropriate. he couldn't sit there forever, just staring at her body in awe. eventually, his hands twitched back to life and he slowly slid one down from her waist, settling on her thigh which he squeezed gently between his calloused fingers. her skin was impossibly soft, smooth as silk and like temptation itself. after a couple seconds squishing the meat of thigh, sully could no longer keep himself frozen in anticipation of what to do and relented. he hunched over her lower half and pressed his nose into that soft crease where her thigh and groin connected and took a long inhale, all while he continued to knead at her supple flesh like it were dough. it was hard to tell whether she smelt so good inherently or if it was because it'd been too long since he'd gotten to bury his face into a woman and indulge in such basic things as her scent but either way, it was bringing something feral out within him, a need to eat her whole. "you're beautiful." he mumbled once again after pulling his face back, just enough so he could turn and press a kiss to her wrist before gently moving back up. his wife was still asleep at home, completely unaware what was going on between her husband and nanny but that didn't mean sully didn't feel the pressure of the clock, they didn't have an infinite amount of time and they'd already spent a lot of it bickering over whether or not he was going to give in, he wanted to spend the rest of the night buried between her thighs till his entire face was soaked with the proof of her arousal but it wasn't possible. once he started, sully knew he wouldn't be able to stop and so he held himself back, instead choosing to replace lana's hand with his own, slipping two fingers through her glossy folds before tucking inside of her after a couple of leisurely passes.

whatever problems would arise in the morning were none of lana's concern— not as she finally had him eating out of the palm of her hand. though she may have appeared reckless and hedonistic, there was a great deal of rationality that went into the important decisions she made. unlike some people, she didn't have a safety net in the form of her family's money to fall back on, and it took a great deal of skill and planning to get by in the world on her own. because of that independence, she was forced to grow up fast, learning how to do whatever it took to make ends meet, but at the end of the day, she was still young. she didn't know it all like she thought she did, and sometimes she was wrong. while she truly believed she had thought things through and that no real harm would come from seducing sully, people were unpredictable, and there was always a chance she could be wrong and put her whole source of income and housing in jeopardy. she didn't even have the capacity to be influenced by such worries, though, far too uninhibited by her substance intake to even give voice to consequence. seeing such a formidable man— the family patriarch, respected at work, a pillar in his community—reduced to this shuddering state of speechlessness from merely a few flicks of her wrist was an instant rush of power, and it inevitably went straight to her head, making her feel as though she could get away with absolutely anything. he was so eager, so desperate for more attention, it almost made her feel guilty for withdrawing her attention, though what she had in mind for him was so much better than a handjob. if he had the balls to accept her brazen offer, of course. it was still up in the air as to how he would ultimately respond once she crawled into the backseat—receiving a coerced handjob while still all buckled up in the driver's seat was one thing, but willingly following her to a more spacious part of the car in order to properly consummate the affair was inexcusable, a damning admission of guilt mr. landry couldn't hope to hide from. finally, lana began to feel a shred of worry. the pause he took was too long for comfort, and the expression on his face when he glanced back at her was hard to read. she was about to call out for him again when he finally opened his car door, and she immediately breathed a sigh of relief instead. it only took a moment or two for him to open the door to the backseat, flashing him her pearly whites in another dazzling grin as she shifted her body into a more seductive pose, hands suggestively caressing up her body and emphasizing her subtle curves. much to her satisfaction, he wasted no time in bunching up the fabric of her dress, aiding him in pushing up from the hem until it was practically bunched up around her ribcage. his eyes went directly for her exposed cunt, and lana couldn't say she was surprised, spreading her legs and following suit by running two fingers through her folds and using them to spread herself apart to give him a better view. hopefully there was enough illumination from the street lamps for him to see the way it glistened, allowing her to confess just how badly she wanted him without having to actually say it out loud. though he hadn't touched her yet, she already felt short of breath. just looking at him while he stared straight at her pussy was akin to foreplay, her head cocked to the side curiously as she propped herself up on her elbows slightly. "it's pretty, huh?"

[chaos-coming]

I hate having to find housing every time i move like this is so stressful and eating up all my time.

I just want to find a place i dont hate living and put down some roots for once, but everywhere i liked i had to leave bc of external bullshit (like getting deported during the pandemic lockdowns bc my visa status didnt qualify to stay) and everywhere thats supposed to be nice turns out to suck majorly (austria my beloathed)

[girlivealwaysbean]

So I wrote this next song a few days before my nineteenth birthday. And, um, back then, I was so terrified of change, and I was especially afraid of growing up. And I'd, like, cry at all my birthday parties as a child. Very, very emo.

Now that I'm 21, I don't feel afraid of growing up at all. In fact, I'm really, really looking forward to it. And, um, if I could give any advice to the 18-year-old girl who wrote this song, I'd tell her not to worry so much, and that she has no idea how many magical, magical things are waiting just around the corner for her. So, uh, with that, here's "teenage dream".

- Olivia Rodrigo at the Guts World Tour before playing teenage dream

[wormchaser]

you are complaining about complaining too much while complaining about the fact that maybe people dont like you because you complain too much while complaining about being alone. just stop complaining and do something about it. talk to people. reach out. dont just wait for someone to come to you first.

i have tried reaching out to different people in the past year or so but it never works. i understand its my own fault for letting relationships decay because of my own insecurities and issues but that doesn't mean i can just will myself to think or believe different things about myself. it's a self fulfilling prophecy ; i think people don't like me so i don't reach out so people don't like me etc . i am sure you do not want to hear me list all the things i want to say in response so i will put them in the tags.

[descendintorantness]

least argumentative mal stan… (JOKE. JOKING THIS IS A JOKE I PROMISE.)

you got me!!! i’m actually an evil anti-feminist who hates women :( /sar

No defense for excusing the love spell, I see…

"it truly makes ME sick that you can be so hateful towards a teenage girl!” I’m a teenager. I spent most of my teenage years as a teenage girl, and a a victim of many of the forms of abuse that Mal employs. Hating Mal is a coping mechanism for me, and she is not real. Directing my anger onto her doesn’t harm anyone and I find it fun to critically engage with the media in this way. It’s funny to me that you’re trying to take some moral high-ground by calling me out for hating on a fictional teenage girl (Mal) when you also hate on a fictional teenage girl (Audrey).

"A teenage girl who grew up abused and was morally taught to do all the wrong things for her mother's attention and affection.” You know who’s also a teenage girl who grew up emotionally abused and taught to do morally questionable things as a way to get her caretaker (Queen Leah’s) attention and affection? Audrey.

"She didn't know any better.” Didn’t know any better is crazy because Mal's intentions were actively malicious. She was trying to hurt Ben and Auradon and take over the kingdom. “Not knowing any better” implies that the harm caused by her actions wasn’t intentional, when it explicitly was.

"Furthermore, Mal exhausted every other option before turning to the love spell.” Really? From what I saw, the love spell was not a very thought out decision. There was no real reason that Mal had to spell Ben. She tried, from your examples, three things before turning to the love spell? How does that make the love spell the last option (/gen question)? In my opinion, their attempt to break into the museum barely counted as an attempt to steal the wand given how poorly thought out it was. Her attempts to get the wand through Jane didn’t really go much farther than that one conversation in the bathroom from what I remember. While drugging Ben might be the 'easiest' option, that doesn't mean that it's not an awful thing to do. Spelling Ben was truly awful, and Mal decided to do it about two seconds after she learned that Ben's girlfriend gets to sit in the front row during the coronation (which didn't even help her much, since Jane, who wasn’t sitting next to Ben, managed to get the wand before Mal did). And to be honest, I don’t give a shit even if it was her only possible course of action. It was horrible to completely strip him of his autonomy in that way, and I can’t stand attempts to forgive or justify it. Ben deserves the truth about why she really cast the spell (to get the wand), he deserves a real apology, and he deserves to be recognized as a victim.

"What, did you think Maleficent would just take them failing in her plan lightly?” Maleficent was trapped on the Isle, with no feasible way of getting off besides the Core Four’s plan to get the wand. Her escape was purely based upon their actions.

"As well, Mal willingly and knowingly of the possible repercussions gave Ben the antidote, giving him back his choice.” Okay forgive me this is kind of off topic, but honestly, one of the things I’m most curious about is the mechanics of the love spell and its antidote within the Descendants canon. We really don’t know anything about it, and it’s kind of fascinating to me! The antidote seemed to be made with some of the same ingredients as the love spell itself in the movie (tear of human sadness), even though in Mal’s spellbook the process of the “anti-love spell” wasn’t described that way. If the spell hadn’t washed off in the Enchanted Lake and Ben just ate the brownie, would he even know he had been spelled at all? We know the spell causes emotional instability and irrational behavior, but does romantic contact with the caster negate the effects?

I really want to know how it works.

"Mal gave him that option, knowing that she'd most likely die for it, if Ben sent her back to the Isle and she didn't have the wand."

Alright, I think that “most likely die” is quite a stretch. Even though Mal gave him the brownie, she did not plan on him eating it before the Coronation (which was absolutely horrible planning on her part to give it to him before the Coronation started). She had every intention of stealing the wand with Ben still under her spell, and only after she had Maleficent taken over, reversing it. As Ben shows, he is immediately willing to forgive her for the love spell. Maybe Mal didn’t know he would do this, but she goes along with his excuse for her pretty easily. And even if she were sent back to the Isle, what would pose a threat to her? Maleficent, or the other villains, perhaps? The other villains wouldn’t pose a threat to Mal because of her status on the Isle, and given the context of their relationship, I strongly believe that Maleficent would never hurt Mal.

Despite the opinion of the majority of the fandom, I do not believe that their relationship was abusive (at least not to the extent that many people seem to think it is). Maleficent’s behavior has not affected Mal’s self-worth or emotional development in any negative way, nor did it impact her psychological capacity or emotional stability. While Maleficent was quick to criticize Mal in the beginning of the movie, she was also quick to praise her once Mal clarified the situation (“That’s my nasty little girl”). This criticism (the only criticism that we see Maleficent give), seemed to be given in a slightly teasing manner, intending to teach, not degrade. Maleficent never threatens Mal (neither with physical violence nor rejection), and shows affection/love (verbal commendation/praise). She shows her daughter support and guidance, as well as belief in her abilities. She has a whole song dedicated to giving Mal support and guidance about going to Auradon (to fulfill Maleficent’s plan of breaking the barrier, but still). Not that these are the only ways to spot abuse, but Mal also never showed the usual signs of psychological or emotional distress that come from abuse such as anxiety, depression, withdrawal, or aggression (one could argue that her “evil” exploits were signs of aggression, but those were all planned/controlled acts of “malice/evil,” and not lashing out against people she cared about or risking harm to herself). Maleficent could be considered manipulative (in the sense that she raised her daughter within her own belief system about the world) and forceful towards Mal, but there is canon evidence that their relationship wasn’t as terrible as many people would like to think. Maleficent truly believed that the best way to be successful in the world was to be “evil”. She believes she is right, and that she is teaching her daughter how to best find her way in the world. She does love Mal, and she wants her to have a good life. Not that Maleficent doesn’t have any selfish intentions with teaching her daughter evil and sending her to Auradon, but she never wanted to cause her daughter harm. She truly believed that the best thing for herself, and Mal secondarily, was to break the barrier and take over Auradon. Even if Maleficent’s moralities are not the best values to teach your child, she thought that they were. Maleficent is not a “good parent” by any means, but having her as a mother was not detrimental to Mal’s emotional well-being or development as a person in any way that could possibly excuse her actions and overall behavior.

In one of the final scenes in Descendants, where Maleficent crashes the Coronation, Mal tells Maleficent to go away and actively fights against her (throwing the wand to Fairy Godmother) with no consequences, not even a reprimand. In fact, Maleficent laughs it off and proceeds to show understanding (“You’ll get there”) and offer advice for what she believes to be Mal’s dilemma- Maleficent believes that Mal is confused about what she wants, and that she is only faltering from an “evil path” because she is unsure of herself. To be clear, I am not trying to defend Maleficent here, she is being controlling, manipulative, and a bad parent, but she never intentionally tried to harm Mal, nor did she ever threaten to. She did proceed to yell at Mal later in the scene, but she does so out of annoyance (“this is tedious and very immature”) and desire to control, not intent to harm. When Mal takes the wand from her, she just asks for it back. Forcefully, yes, but with no threats of violence or even withholding affection. She doesn’t harm or threaten to harm Mal’s friends either, she simply puts Dude back onto the floor, and when Jay tries to take her scepter she just knocks him away. And though she does turn into a dragon and breathe fire at Jay, I believe this was done as a show of power and a warning rather than actually trying to hurt him. She very easily could have killed him, Carlos, Evie, or Mal in this form, and had many opportunities, but does not make any real attempts to do so. Maleficent did not want to hurt Mal or her friends even when they actively sabotaged her. Therefore, while she would have been upset that Mal had failed, she would never have hurt her if she were sent back to the Isle, let alone have killed her. She would have protected and controlled her as she had always done. 

There is the argument that this supposed “abuse” could have happened off screen, but when examining an on-screen relationship in a movie series, it holds little to no weight. This is a movie, and the portrayal of character relationships on screen is deliberate. What we see is how the characters were written to interact, and how that relationship was meant to be perceived; the characters interacted on screen how their relationship was written within for the movie, and therefore how it is within that movie. What we can glean from Mal’s scenes with Maleficent is limited, of course, but if the writers really wanted to imply that Mal was suffering from abuse at the hands of her mother, they would have made that much clearer to us, the audience.

One again, I am not trying to excuse Maleficent’s actions or defend her as a character. I am simply trying to thoroughly explain why the Isle was never and would never be a dangerous place for Mal, especially when Maleficent was there.

Point One: "Flat out KISSING another guy not even a minute after Ben had broken up with her DOES NOT really scream genuine/deep feelings for him.” I disagree. The fact that Audrey kissed Chad does not necessarily mean that she didn’t care for Ben. As I mentioned, the situation was most definitely heartbreaking and humiliating for her, so within the context her actions make more sense as an attempt to “save face” in front of her friends and peers. Her actions of randomly grabbing a boy and kissing him in front of a crowd of people speaks to emotional instability and deep hurt.

"And please do not give me the 'but it up to Ben to talk to her!' line.” Ben has no autonomy at this point in the story. The fault is on Mal completely. I will agree that Audrey’s lack of communication was immature and indicative/causatory of problems in their relationship, but the blame cannot be placed entirely on her either. Both Ben and Audrey had poor communication and did bad things to each other throughout the movie. Audrey should have talked to Ben, and Ben should have talked to Audrey. Both are to blame, both deserved better closure when it comes to their relationship.

Point Two: I agree with your response here, well said. /gen

Point 3: If you thought I was annoying before, just wait and see what happens when you try and come for my girl Uma. /lh

I will admit that I oversimplified the “drowning” incident, but I believe you are doing the same thing.

"However, an attempt to prank the especially mean Cruella De Vil leads Mal to seemingly falling off the docks and into the water. Uma laughs at her instead of saving her, only for Mal to surprise her and dump a bucket of shrimp on Uma in return. No matter how much Uma tried to wash her hair, the disgusting smell never left her locks.”

"One day, Uma thought Mal was drowning and went in to save her, but when she realized Mal wasn't drowning, Mal dropped a bucket of shrimp on her head before calling her "Shrimpy". Mal was threatened by Uma's evilness and felt that she needed to take out the competition."

These are quotes from the Descendants wikis (I unfortunately don’t have access to the book itself to check). As I stated, Mal wasn’t actually drowning. At least with my recollection of the book, what happened is that Uma laughed at what she thought was Mal falling in the water and then went into save her once she thought Mal was actually in danger of drowning. It is hard to say whether Uma’s initial reaction was due to genuine malice and wish to see Mal harmed, if she didn’t know Mal couldn’t swim (this interpreation makes the most sense to me, as I don’t think Mal would want to share that weakness), or if she (at least at first) realized that it was a prank. However, if Uma did have truly malicious intentions, I do not believe she would have gone in to save Mal.

"Mal could not afford to be "soft.”” Neither could Uma, due to the same expectations put on her by Ursula. And yet, despite this, she showed Mal genuined kindness and put herself in harm’s way to try to save Mal, and was assaulted and harrassed for it; by Mal, her former best friend who had decided to betray her.

"Furthermore, Uma gave as good as she got in the rivalry between them.” This is just my interpretation of the canon events, but I honestly don’t think that anything Uma did had quite the emotional devastation that Mal’s actions had. Threatening to kill Ben would be the highest on the list of Uma’s “evil deeds”, in my opinion, and that was not done just to hurt Mal.

"She went after Ben and turned up to cotillion deliberately and with malice just to hurt Mal.” OOF. Tell me you missed the point of the second movie without telling me you missed the point of the second movie (/hj).

Uma’s main intentions in kidnapping Ben were not just “to get back at Mal”. That’s an insanely reductive, blatant misinterpretation of her motivations and character. She went after Ben with the expressed intention of getting the wand- the same goal that Mal had just a movie before, and the very same context you used to justify her love spell, remember?

Mal cast a love spell on Ben while he was dating someone else. Ben had explicitly told Uma that he and Mal weren't together anymore.

Uma had no illusions about what she was doing. She knew that she was doing a pretty awful thing, but she really had no other choice. Mal, however, had a bunch of other options for how to steal the wand that she never bothered to look into, as well as no real time limit to come up with a plan, but she decided to just drug someone after barely even thinking about it.

Ben knew exactly why Uma spelled him. He still believes that Mal spelled him because she liked him. He doesn't have any idea that Mal spelled him for the exact same reason Uma did: to get the wand.

Uma had reason to hate Mal, unlike Mal to Audrey. Mal bullied Uma for years in a toxic friendship and then threw her to the sharks. Audrey was a little rude to Mal and that's it. And again, Mal and Ben were not dating at the time Uma cast the spell on him. But my point is, Uma was completely justified in taking a little pleasure in the fact that Mal was upset by her showing up at Cotillion.

Although their ultimate motives for spelling Ben were the same, the way they went about it was a little different. Mal cast a spell to make herself Ben's girlfriend. Her goal was to be in a relationship with Ben. She magically forced him into being in a relationship with her, and that was her motive the entire time. Uma wanted Ben to listen to her so that he would take down the barrier. She never wanted to be in a relationship with Ben or force him to be in a relationship with her. She only wanted him to listen to her and take down the barrier. Although the end result of both Mal and Uma's spells were the same, Ben "falling in love" with each of them, their thought process about it was entirely different.

Uma didn’t catch feelings for a person she had complete control over. Mal “fell for” Ben while she believed that he was under her love spell and therefore had no emotional autonomy and no control over what he did in response to those emotions that she created for him without his consent.

And finally, both Mal and Uma spelled Ben in an attempt to get the wand, but they wanted it for different reasons. Mal wanted the wand for her mother so that she and Maleficent could take over Auradon. Uma wanted the wand to free all the kids on the Isle from poverty. Uma's goal was never selfish or with bad intentions. She genuinely wanted a better life for every kid on the Isle.

"Uma may have been the original victim of the shrimp, yes, but she quickly lost 'victim' status with her actions afterwards.” No she didn’t. No matter what she did, she remained the victim of wrongful imprisonment from Auradon and bullying from Mal.

One thing that a lot of people don't seem to get about why Uma is a much better person than Mal is that Uma isn't selfish. Sure, sometimes she has a bad attitude, yes, sometimes she is mean. But she is never selfish like Mal is. Mal couldn't care less about helping any of the other kids get off the Isle, or even getting them aid or help. Uma did. Uma truly believed that other people should have the opportunities that both people in Auradon and the Core Four got, and she was so angry because she knew that the worst kid on the Isle, Mal, got the opportunity compared to all the other kids who were actually good people. Mal just did not care about anyone on the Isle after she got to Auradon.

Uma didn't go about her goal "the right way", but since when was that ever an option to her? Kids on the Isle don't get to, say, meet with royalty and negotiate getting themselves off prison. Uma saw one chance to do something for her people, and she took it. She was skewed as the villain for thinking it was unfair that Mal, her old bully, got to be the ruler of paradise while Uma and all the other Isle kids were left to suffer.

In defence of Mal getting her 'karma' by the love spell in D2, and the people smirking, 'now she knows how it feels!'

It. Is. Different! 1 Unlike Audrey, Mal has genuine feelings for Ben at that point. (and think about the context of that. This is a girl who has never truly romantically loved someone in her life. And now that she has the person she let have her heart is getting taken away) 2. Mal has just come off months of putting herself through hell/Tartarus trying to be what she thought Ben needed. So that she wouldn't cause him issues with being a VK and on the night it was all supposed to pay off, Ben turns up with another girl. 3 Even if it's unknown to Ben and Uma Mal knows that that's not just any girl taking Ben. It's her cousin, her family that's just a deeper level of low/hurt!

So no, you cannot compare Mal and Audrey's feelings in that moment because the context of the two situations was not the same.

[icewindandboringhorror]

"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"

I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming

[carcarrot]

having another one of my job-related crises