#everything is better when there are plants

[jeongin-lvr]

Soobin whos big cock stretches you out every night because he’s so addicted to your pussy. like, genuinely can’t get enough. he’ll switch between fucking you in a mating press to eating his own cum out of your lovely, fluttering hole. all the while you mewl his name sleepily because you’ve cum more times than you can count; he doesn’t care, though. he’s enraptured by your pussy. he takes his frustrations out on your holes, he pours all his love out while fucking you, he spells his name on your clit just because he wants to taste you one last time before heading to bed. by the end of the night you’re sore, aching thighs wrapped around his as he kisses you to make it better... though, that might get him hard again

THUS END ME

I fucking love big cock Soobin 😖 it’s way too real tbh listened to sad girl by lana while making this felt whore-ish cw. heavyyyy overstim, soobin is described as bigger than reader.

You’re panting, losing focus on the man above you because he just won’t stop— won’t stop filling you up again and again. And it’s not like you even had the energy to fight back. You’re aching, leaking, sweaty, dewy-eyed. He’s relentless, making you take every stinging inch. You know it’s cliche, a whole trope, but you can feel him in your stomach. In fact, Soobin had the flattened palm of his hand pressed hard against the big tummy bulge you had. You quite literally could feel him all the way in there, thick, long cock rubbing quickly against your inner walls. The wet squelch of your full and spent hole filling the air rapidly, coinciding with your heated moans and whines.

Your hands clawed at his chest, back arching even further than it already was, begging to be brought back down to reality. You felt floaty, head full of air. “S-Soobin— Soob… too much, t-too muchhh—“

Soobin groaned, pressing your thighs up until your knees were right beside your head, shaking legs from repeated orgasm after orgasm. Every single climax ripped from your body in pure ecstasy. Filling your mind with only mumbles of words and the need for more, more, more. Even when your body was so tired, aching for less, begging for a relief, all you needed was more of him. Soobin then planted his hand right beside your head, bigger body contorting and meshing into yours, keeping you under his weight from moving at all. Any squirming you did was ignored, his hips only increasing in speed with wet, nasty slaps of skin.

“No, no, no… fuck, baby,” Soobin’s breath caught in his throat as he spoke, a choked out whine escaping as his fluffy, black hair fell in front of his eyes, then back as he tilted his head backward. His eyebrows were scrunched together, touching as his pouty lips parted, “Need you to take it… y-you gotta take it—“ He was panting like a dog, hovering over you with shaky arms. If anything, he was just as much a wreck as you were at this point. His big hand scooped up the side of your face, cooing at you as wet sounds emitted from your bodies, lips a breath away, “For me, baby, do it f-for me.”

His thumb ran over your skin, sending heat up your cheeks and a stray tear to slip out of your eye, graciously dewing his skin.

“Love your lil’ pussy, honey,” Soobin scrunched his face for the umpteenth time, “Know you can take it… s’tight.”

You mewled, though nodding. You take everything he gives you, even if it was overwhelming. If anything, that’s the best part, isn’t it? That big cock of his felt so fucking good, nearly intoxicating. You both went through this ordeal practically every night and it was pure heaven.

His thumb caressed your cheek, using that same tear you’d so graciously gifted him as a form of lube as his thumb crawled down to your swollen, fat clit. You jerked as he thumbed the lil love bud, a sputtering moan falling from your lips. Soobin’s thrusts were sloppy, each little sound he made reminding you of how good he was feeling, how not only you were feeling pleasure. Not that it wasn’t obvious with the way he spoke to you and handled you. So delicate, gentle, yet at the same time dominate and strong.

“My baby, my cute fucking girl…” Soobin moaned again, you can tell by the breathlessness of his voice that he was close again. Your pussy ached from being so full, his tip drilling endlessly against your womb, deeply pressing into that soft lil gummy spot. It had your eyes rolling into the back of your head, biting your lip to hide the stupidly loud sounds you wanted to let out, “Love you on my big cock, baby, look so p-pretty,” Confession spilled from open lips, slack jaw only widening as he tipped closer to a finish, “My baby loves when I breed her cunt, hm? One more, I promise…”

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

I'M (NOT) FINE!

a/n: requests are open!

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: fluff fluff fluff

summary: You absolutely loathe being sick—the sniffles, the coughs, the shivering... And Jude? He hates seeing you in that state even more. So, what's the solution? Simple: pretend you're fine. You put on your best “everything's okay” face, a face that could fool everyone... except Jude. Yikes. With his signature mix of teasing and tenderness, he refuses to let you suffer alone. He'll keep pushing, pestering, and caring for you until you finally admit you're not as fine as you want to be. And in the end, it’s his care and persistence that makes you feel a little less miserable.

You should’ve known better than to let Jude stay up so late watching Netflix with you the night before. Or maybe it was you who needed to rethink staying up until 2 a.m., curled under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn between you two as he whispered silly commentary into your ear.

Today was different, though. As the morning crept in through your bedroom window, an unusual weight seemed to settle behind your eyes. Your throat felt like sandpaper, and a tickling cough bubbled up every time you tried to swallow. But you refused to acknowledge it.

Outside, the wind rattled the windows, hinting at the kind of day that makes you want to burrow into blankets and disappear. Jude sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling absently on his phone, his focus darting to the ticking clock as he waited for you.

He hadnt miss that you’d been odd this morning—quiet and sluggish, the kind of quiet he noticed instantly. You weren’t the type to miss a chance to tease him over breakfast or steal sips of his coffee, so when you shuffled past him earlier, mumbling something about needing first a long shower, it planted a seed of worry.

He didn’t like when things felt off. Especially not with you.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and face freshly washed, you looked almost fine. Almost. Your usually bright eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, your cheeks were a bit pale and you were wrapped up in a hoodie far too big for you. One of his, of course.

Jude’s cheerful voice rang through the apartment as you shuffled into the kitchen, pulling your sleeves over your hands. “Babe, what do you want for breakfast?”

“Just toast,” you mumbled quickly. Your voice cracked on the last word, and you froze. Oh no. Jude turned to look at you, brow furrowing ever so slightly.

“Feeling all right, love?” he asked, his brow creased as he leaned back in his chair, studying you.

You smiled—quick, small, practiced. “Yeah. Fine.”

You walked straight for the kettle to pour yourself some tea, deliberately avoiding him. You could feel his gaze on you, like a silent interrogation. Your boyfriend lingered near the counter as you plopped two slices of bread into the toaster, biting the inside of his cheek like he always did when he didn’t believe you. He didn’t say anything, though—not yet.

Jude Bellingham was many things, you thought to yourself, but oblivious wasn’t one of them.

Unfortunately for you, that made this whole charade harder.

“Didn’t look like you slept well,” he said, pushing the conversation gently.

“I slept fine,” you replied too quickly, taking a sip of hot tea and keeping your eyes on the mug.

“Well, you look... I don’t know a bit tired.”

“I am tired. You made us stay up late.” You shot him a pointed look, hoping the deflection would work. It almost did. Almost. “But really, I slept fine.”

Liar. Liar.

He frowned, but before he could press further, you turned, flashing him a look that you hoped was convincing. “I promise, Jude. Don’t start getting all dramatic.”

“What? Dramatic?” He placed a hand to his chest, feigning offense, but his eyes never lost that sharp edge. “I’ll let it slide this time. But you’re not fooling me, you know. You’ve got that thing going on.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where you’re trying to act normal, but you’re just a little bit too normal.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You sound insane.”

He sounded just right.

“I sound attentive,” he countered, grinning, though his voice was still soft.

You turned back to your tea, gripping the handle a little harder than necessary. In truth, you could feel the early signs of sickness creeping in—your throat tickled, your head felt heavy, and warmth pulsed at your temples like a faint drumbeat. It wasn’t bad yet, but you knew it would be soon.

And that was exactly why you couldn’t let Jude in on it.

He was attentive—almost painfully so—and you knew he’d go straight into overprotective mode the moment he suspected something was wrong. He’d fuss. He’d worry. He’d probably cancel his plans and hover over you for hours like a mother hen.

You didn’t want him to cancel his plans. And you really didn’t want to be the reason he stressed.

So, when he looked away to grab his phone, you took the opportunity to stifle the cough that clawed at your throat, turning your head quickly and clearing it in a way you hoped sounded natural. A master plan.

But when you turned back, Jude was staring. Staring into you, frowning a little and questioning you with his eyes.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That sound. Did you just cough?”

You blinked, feigning innocence. “No? I don’t think so.”

His brow furrowed, lips parting slightly as if to call you out, but you were already ahead of him, changing the subject. “Are you still meeting the guys later?”

He eyed you skeptically for a beat longer, before reluctantly sighing. “Yeah. We are supposed to meet at nine.”

“Good.” You smiled sweetly, though it was mostly a distraction. “Don’t let me keep you from it.”

The shift in his expression was subtle, but you caught it anyway—something in the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes lingered a second too long on you. Jude had spent enough time with you to know your tells, and he wasn’t stupid.

He let it slide, again. For now.

The hours went on, and your act grew harder to keep up.

Jude had been in and out of the living room while you lounged on the couch, buried under a blanket and claiming you just wanted to “relax.” You were also clutching a steaming cup of tea that Jude had made for you. You hadn’t even asked for it, which was a sign he was already onto you. You scrolled your phone lazily, trying to appear normal, but you could feel him watching you.

He plopped onto the couch beside you, spreading his long and fit legs across the coffee table. “You’re acting weird.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“You’re imagining things.”

He shot you a look. “You’re wearing two hoodies, a blanket, and you’re sipping tea in 26-degree weather. It’s summer.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then came the moment you’d been dreading. You were mid-scroll when an itch seized your throat. You tried to suppress it—tried to swallow it down and breathe through your nose—but it was no use. The cough escaped, sharp and sudden, your body shaking slightly with the force of it.

Jude whipped his head toward you so fast you thought he might get whiplash.

“Got you.”

You froze. Slowly, you looked up to see Jude next to you, arms crossed and an annoyingly smug look on his face.

“I knew it,” he said, shaking his head.

You sighed, sinking lower into the couch. “It’s just a tickle. Don’t start.”

“Don’t start? No no no. Babe, you’ve been hiding that all day, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t been hiding anything,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“Alright, that’s it,” he said, scooting closer. “Let me feel your forehead.”

“No!” you blurted, immediately shrinking back into the cushions. “Don’t touch me. I—uh, I haven’t washed my face. Gross, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I care.”

“Jude, I swear—”

“Stop being stubborn and come here.”

You hugged the blanket tighter, as if it could protect you. “I’m not coming, Jude.”

“You’re so damn stubborn,” he shot back, though his voice was tinged with affection. “Let me feel your forehead.”

You recoiled slightly, eyes narrowing. “I don’t have a fever.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me feel your forehead,” he moved closer to you.

You squirmed away from him, practically sliding down the couch as he reached for you. He only managed to grab your ankle, pinning you in place.

“This isn’t fair! You’re bigger than me!” you yelped, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous the two of you must look—him holding onto your leg while you squirmed like a fish out of water.

“I don’t care. You’re not getting away from me.”

You gasped for air as you finally gave up and collapsed back onto the sofa. Jude grinned in victory, his palm landing gently on your forehead before you could protest further. His grin faded as quickly as it appeared.

For a second, you both stared each other down, and in that moment, you realized how ridiculous this little standoff had become. He looked at you like he couldn’t decide whether to be exasperated or amused, his head tilting slightly.

“Y/N, you’re burning up.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Think again then cause you are.”

“Maybe I’m just hot,” you tried to joke weakly, but he wasn’t having it. His lips set into a thin line.

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” he demanded softly. His tone wasn’t angry—just disappointed. Somehow, that was worse.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your resolve wavering. “Because I don’t want you to worry.”

His expression softened instantly, and your heart sank.

“Babe,” he said, crouching down in front of you so he could look you in the eyes. “You know that’s not possible, right? I’m always going to worry about you. You’re not invincible, no matter how much you try to act like it.”

You swallowed hard, guilt and affection swirling in your chest. You didn’t want to admit it, but part of you was relieved that he’d seen through you.

“I just didn’t want you to cancel your plans,” you muttered.

Jude rolled his eyes fondly. “You think I care about plans more than you?”

You didn’t answer, because the look in his eyes told you he already knew what you were thinking.

“Come on,” he said finally, standing up and offering you his hand. “We’re taking your temperature.”

You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically. “Jude—”

“You’re done arguing.”

“Jude, I don’t need the thermometer,” you grumbled, but he was already standing up, mumbling something about how he would decide that. You slumped back against the couch with a sigh, pulling the blanket higher around your face.

“Up.”

You shot him a glare, but took his hand anyway, letting him pull you off the couch. You knew you’d lost this round, but as you followed him into the kitchen, you caught the small smile tugging at his lips.

And you couldn’t help but smile, too.

Ten minutes after, you both stared at the thermometer, you chewing the inside of your left cheek nervously, while Jude crossed his arms over his chest, his brow furrowing deeper by the second.

“38.9,” he read aloud, his tone flat but edged with concern.

“It’s not that bad,” you muttered, trying to wave it off, but the tightness in your chest and the dizziness that followed the cough made the words feel hollow.

His eyes snapped to yours, sharp and unyielding. “Not that bad? That’s literally a high fever.”

“Barely,” you quipped, attempting a half-hearted shrug, though the effort made your head feel heavier, and your limbs suddenly felt like lead. You had no choice but to lean against the counter for support.

“Y/N…”

“Jude, I’m fine,” you argued, turning to put the thermometer back on the counter like it didn’t just confirm his worst suspicions. “I don’t need a doctor, and I definitely don’t need you hovering over me.”

His lips parted, words on the tip of his tongue clearly sharp, but he held them back. Instead, he took a deep breath, his frustration melting into something softer, his gaze still filled with concern. Jude wasn’t having it. He stood up suddenly, towering over the couch where you moved and where now curled up. “That’s it. You’re going to bed.”

Your head whipped around, eyes narrowing. “I’m not going to bed.”

“Yes, you are,” he said firmly, already reaching for your hand to pull you up. “You need to lie down properly, not camp out here on the couch like you’re hiding from something.”

“Jude, no.” You tugged your hand away, shaking your head. “I’m fine here. I like the couch. It’s cozy.”

He raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “The bed is cozier.”

“I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you said stubbornly, sinking deeper into the cushions as though you could become one with the furniture.

“You’ll feel better if you rest properly,” he argued, his tone soft but insistent. “And the sooner you rest, the sooner you’ll get better. That’s logic. You can’t fight logic.”

“I’m not fighting logic. I just don’t want to go,” you insisted, pouting slightly for effect. “The bed is boring. I’ll just lay there staring at the ceiling, and then you’ll make me drink disgusting medicine. No thanks.”

Jude exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead in that way he always did when he was losing patience. You knew exactly how far you could push him, but it didn’t feel good to see that frustrated look in his eyes. You hated making him worry, but part of you didn’t want to be stuck in bed just yet, even if you could feel the exhaustion weighing you down.

“Jude, please,” you said, your tone softening, almost pleading. “I don’t want to be stuck in bed. I’ll rest here, I promise. Let’s just watch something, yeah?”

You offered him an innocent smile, though it quickly wavered when you felt another cough building. You turned away, covering your mouth as you hacked into the blanket. Jude’s hands twitched at his sides, but he didn’t press the issue—at least, not yet.

When you finally caught your breath, you glanced up at him warily, half-expecting him to scoop you up and carry you to bed despite your protests. He looked like he wanted to, but instead, he sighed again and sat back down on the edge of the couch.

He sighed deeply, clearly torn. His jaw worked as he considered your plea, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. Finally, he relented with a short nod, though his eyes still carried a hint of warning. “Fine. But only because I know you’ll sulk if I make you move.”

You flashed him a weak smile, already pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

“But the second you look worse, you’re going to bed,” he added firmly.

You opened your mouth to say something, probably to complain, but another coughing fit cut you off—deep and rattling, like your body was staging a mutiny. Jude was on his feet in seconds, disappearing into the kitchen as you tried to catch your breath.

When he returned, he was holding a fresh glass of water and a bottle of cold medicine. “Here,” he said firmly, handing you the water first.

“Thanks,” you muttered, your voice hoarse. But when he held out the medicine, you grimaced. “Do I have to? I mean, maybe in a couple hours this will wear off...”

“Do you want to get better, or do you want to keep hacking like a 90-year-old chain smoker?”

“You’re so mean,” you groaned, narrowing your eyes at him.

“And you have high fever. Take the damn medicine.” He was loosing his patience, but it returned every time you smiled at him.

Reluctantly, you unscrewed the cap and took the tiniest possible sip, immediately pulling a face. “This is disgusting.”

Jude snorted. “Medicine’s not supposed to taste like candy.”

“It should,” you muttered with a dramatic pout, glaring at the medicine bottle like it had personally wronged you.

Jude rolled his eyes, fighting back a grin as he took the glass from your hands. “Well, when you invent miracle medicine that tastes like chocolate, let me know. Until then, take it properly.”

You groaned but relented, though your face twisted in disgust. “I swear this stuff is just punishment in a bottle.”

“You are such a dramatic,” he countered, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms with a smug expression.

“I’ll get you back for this,” you threatened weakly, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

Jude’s grin widened. “I’m counting on it.” He settled back down beside you, his hand finding its way to your back, rubbing slow circles that felt unexpectedly soothing. With a sigh, he grabbed the remote and flicked through channels, trying to find something to watch since you were clearly avoiding the idea of going to bed—much to his dismay.

The movie started playing, but you weren’t really watching it. You were fighting the drowsiness creeping in, but your body seemed to have other ideas. The fever had started to set in fully, and it made every movement feel sluggish and lethargic. You burrowed deeper into the blanket, your skin hot and clammy, and instinctively you leaned into Jude’s side, seeking the cool comfort of his presence to counter the warmth suffocating you.

He didn’t miss it. His arm immediately instinctively curled around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him, as if he could offer some comfort against the fever that seemed to consume you. You shifted, nestling your head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. His hand gently brushed against your arm, the coolness of his skin providing a brief relief from the heat radiating off yours. You closed your eyes, too tired to keep up the act, but you could still hear the sound of the movie playing softly in the background.

He could feel your body trembling, your warmth pressing against him in a way that only made his concern grow. “Baby, you're shivering,” he murmured softly, his voice low and filled with worry. His hand moved to your forehead once again, his fingers cool against your skin as he traced the lines of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You didn’t have the energy to argue, too tired to offer your usual deflections. Instead, you let out a soft sigh, closing your eyes as the weight of your body seemed to pull you deeper into the couch. Your breath was slow but labored, each inhale a bit more shallow than the last.

Jude didn’t miss the way your body seemed to sink into him, the way you let yourself fall into his arms without resistance. The quiet, unspoken admission that you needed him, even when you refused to admit it aloud.

“And you are burning up,” he said, his voice low and gentle.

“I know, it’s okay,” you mumbled, though your teeth had begun to chatter slightly, betraying your words. You buried your face against his shirt, feeling the slight chill of his body against yours.

He shook his head, tightening his arm around your shoulders. “It’s not really okay, love,” he whispered, voice full of concern. The touch of his hand against the back of your neck, cool and soothing, sent a wave of comfort through you, but it didn’t stop the shivering.

You tried to smile up at him, but it was weak. “I’m fine here, Jude. Honestly.”

He wasn’t convinced. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and the way you were leaning into him for that extra bit of coolness only confirmed what he already knew.

He stared down at you, a mixture of tenderness and frustration swirling in his gaze. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” he whispered, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. His hand lingered, fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a softness that contrasted with the firm set of his jaw.

You tried to smile, but the effort was half-hearted, your lips barely lifting.

“Right. That’s enough,” he said suddenly, untangling himself from the blanket and standing up.

“Juuude,” you protested weakly, trying to clutch at the soft fabric as if it could somehow shield you from the inevitable.

“Don’t even start,” he interrupted, shaking his head with a small but stern smile. “I let you win with the couch thing before, but now? Non-negotiable.”

You glared at him half-heartedly, the fever clouding your ability to stay upset. “You’re so smug.”

“And you’re so stubborn,” he countered with a grin, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

His hands rested gently on your knees, his gaze steady as he met your eyes. “Come on, love,” he said, his voice quiet but insistent. “Let me take you to bed. You’ll sleep better, and I’ll stay with you. Okay?”

You hesitated, staring up at him through fever-fogged eyes. There was something so comforting in his touch, in the way his thumb brushed over the inside of your knee as if he could ease the discomfort from your body with just a gesture.

“Can’t we just stay here a little longer?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, vulnerable and tired. You were falling asleep in the couch.

Jude’s heart ached at the sound of it, but his resolve didn’t falter. He reached down, gently cupping the back of your head and pulling you up to your feet. “No more fighting, baby.”

Before you could protest further, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, one arm supporting your back, the other under your legs. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning against him as if your body could draw strength from his.

“Jude!” you gasped in surprise.

“Shh,” he soothed, walking you toward the bedroom with gentle steps. “You’re not getting out of this. I’m taking care of you.”

You pressed your cheek against his shoulder as he carefully laid you down on the bed, tucking you under the covers with the same tender care he always showed. As he reached for the blanket, smoothing it over your shivering form, you closed your eyes, feeling a sense of safety that you didn’t want to admit you’d needed.

“Promise me you'll rest,” he said after a long moment, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might disturb the fragile quiet between you.

He brushed his hand across your forehead, feeling how much warmer you were now that you were lying down. His fingers lingered, caressing your skin in slow, soothing motions. He let out a quiet sigh, looking down at you with a softness in his eyes.

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you let out a quiet breath, feeling the warmth of his hand caressing you. It felt so comforting that you couldn't resist, your body finally surrendering to the heaviness of your fatigue.

“Promise me,” he repeated softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your back.

“I promise,” you mumbled, your voice thick with the weight of exhaustion.

“I’ll always take care of you,” he replied, his voice low and tender. He leaned down and kissed your forehead lightly, the feeling of his lips against your skin almost a promise.

You felt your eyelids grow heavier, and the warmth of his presence slowly lulled you into a deep, feverish sleep. Jude stayed beside you, his hand resting protectively on your back as he settled beside you, never once breaking contact.

And as you drifted off, you felt a quiet sense of gratitude wash over you. You were sick, yes, but you were also cared for in a way that made everything feel a little more bearable. With him so close, it was hard to stay awake, and soon, your breathing evened out into the deep rhythm of sleep.

[warblogs17282]

I''m busy thinking about how this part of the episode is supposed to directly mirror what's already happened in the show.

Ignoring the obvious s1 e1 reference, let's start with the backstory behind this hit.

Something that this show makes very clear is that she is supposed to represent Stella, for multiple reasons that I will point out in this post.

Instantly starts out with ex-husband, just like with Stella and Stolas.

The next line proceeds to mention daughters, which is obviously the show planting the seeds for the scene yet to come, the Stolitz family scene. The daughters are very clearly supposed to represent Octavia and Loona.

Plus, the whole 'Can't stand my ex-husband enjoying himself' thing is also supposed to mirror Stella in a way, because guess who else purposefully went out of their way to ensure that their husband/ex-husband never was able to truly enjoy himself.

"When he fucking left me for another man!", when he left me for another man who was able to show him actual, true happiness. Just like how Blitz did just that for Stolas.

I also really want to note Blitz's and Stolas' reactions to all of this, for Blitz, even though he knows almost nothing about Stella, you can already tell he's put some pieces together and realized 'oh shit, this is sounding extremely similar to what happened between me and Stolas.', especially considering the way he looked over at Stolas when she finished talking there.

Which explains why Blitz looks so nervous and trying to talk her out of carrying through with the hit, before just outright denying the request, because it hits way too close to home for him as well. With the next thing she says after this scene pictured below just nailing the similarities home to Blitz.

As for Stolas' reaction, you can tell even before this moment that he's also realized just how similar the whole situation is to his own, and that detail tells us that Stolas isn't just talking about the person the client wants dead, but also himself.

Stolas thinks he's selfish for choosing to be with Blitz, Stolas thinks that he deserves death because of his 'selfish' choice to be with Blitz. Stolas likely thinks at that moment that he deserved to be killed by Striker for his 'selfish' choice.

And well, the show definitely doubles down on showing us just how evil the client is, just like Stella.

Then we get to the moment where every single similarity undeniably falls into focus for Blitz. Blitz doesn't see a random gay couple with two daughters he's been paid double to assassinate a member of, he sees himself, he sees Stolas, and their own respective daughters all in the same room as each other, he sees his dreams for the future with Stolas, and their daughters.

He sees a future of domestic bliss with the four of them, the future he's hoping he can achieve some day.

And because of all of these similarities between the family and Blitz himself, he cannot bring himself to ruin a happy family, can't bring himself to ruin what they have, can't bring himself to ruin what Blitz dreams for, can't bring himself to kill the person he envisions as Stolas, and can't bring himself to ruin the family that he envisions as his own as well.

Plus, Blitz would never be able to truly forgive himself if he took that shot, if he killed that man and ruined the family Blitz places himself in. Blitz would see himself as being no better than Striker if he did take the killing shot.

Because, let's compare s2 e4 and this episode for a second.

"Ex-wife hires assassin to kill their ex-husband with a daughter for extremely evil and selfish reasons."

"Ex-wife hires assassin to kill their ex-husband with two daughters for extremely evil and selfish reasons."

Even if Blitz only understands the s2 e4 hit as "Unknown person hired assassin to kill father with a daughter for unknown reasons.", as I've pointed out before, everything about this assassination hits way too close to home for Blitz.

Blitz has probably already realized at that moment that if Striker had killed Stolas in s2 e4, all of his hopes and dreams of having a happy family with Stolas, Octavia and Loona would instantly go up in flames.

So, why would Blitz want to ruin a family that has what he hopes for in the future? Why would Blitz want to kill the person he envisions as Stolas? Why would Blitz want to kill the person he envisions as Stolas, especially when Striker almost very well killed Stolas, which would've ruined the dream Blitz has that we see here if Striker had succeeded?

What I'm getting that with this is simple, the client represents Stella, the ex-husband represents Stolas, the daughters represents Octavia and Loona, and Blitz represents Striker.

But Blitz isn't Striker, Blitz could've very well chosen to be play the role of Striker and kill that ex-husband, ruining the family as a result for some money, but he didn't, Blitz saw the happy gay couple and their daughters, saw himself in it, and decided the money wasn't worth it, stopping himself or anyone else in the team from taking that killing shot, because Blitz simply refused to play the role of Striker, Blitz played his own role, which is himself.

Blitz is not Striker, and I feel like this moment goes to show even further that Blitz and Striker are supposed to be narrative foils to each other.

[psychoticallykind]

Jegumas Day Twenty-One - Mistletoe Kiss

1,197 words

@noblehouseofgay

--------------------------------------------------------------

Regulus

Regulus should have known it was a useless endeavor.

Useless, no matter how much he wanted to avoid this. Because when did Regulus ever get something he wanted?

It was stupid anyway. Stupid that he cared, stupid that he’d been trying all night to avoid the enchanted plants.

And really, this was the best case scenario, right? This was what people daydreamed about. He was stuck under enchanted mistletoe with his boyfriend. The perfect excuse to kiss someone he was already attracted to and knew he was safe with.

It was the best case scenario.

“Regulus, I need you to breathe, love.”

The words were quiet, appearing with a gentle pressure around his wrist as James tried to pull him out of his head.

“We don’t have to do anything,” James whispered, dark eyes wide and earnest. “It’s okay, Regulus. We’re okay.”

Regulus blinked away tears, trying to speak over the pounding in his chest. “It’s - the - it’s enchanted.”

It was an unnecessary statement - everyone at the party knew that the mistletoe was enchanted. Everyone. Including James and - though he’d been stupid enough to walk under it - Regulus.

And it wasn’t that Regulus didn’t love kissing James. It wasn’t - he loved kissing his boyfriend. He loved everything that he did with James.

In private. He loved all of those things - adored them, really - in private.

Not in a crowded common room where everyone could see them.

Regulus was going to throw up.

James

James tried to stay calm as he watched Regulus get even paler, eyes darting around the room. Thankfully, no one had really noticed them yet.

He’d been trying so hard to avoid this tonight. He knew Regulus better than he knew anyone, and he knew from the moment Mary had announced the mistletoe that he needed to keep Regulus out of that situation.

This situation, that is.

“Regulus,” he tried again. “Reg, hey. Look at me, love.”

Blue-grey eyes flickered to his for a second or two before squeezing shut as Regulus shook his head. His breathing stuttered for a moment, lips pressed together, and James had to take a deep breath to avoid panicking with him.

He traced a heart into Regulus’s palm, glancing up at the plant and mentally running through ways to undo the charm. He wouldn’t kiss Regulus like this. Not in a room full of people while his boyfriend was on the verge of a panic attack. He could never disrespect him like that.

But there was more than one way to kiss someone.

Ways that wouldn’t trigger Regulus’s anxiety any further. Not his lips, or his cheek - really anything on his face was out, James knew that.

“Hey, Reg?” James shifted his hand so that their fingers tangled together, gently squeezing. “I want to try something.”

Regulus’s eyes flew open, wide as he shook his head. “No - no, Jamie, I can’t - please, I’m sorry, not here please, I can’t -”

“I know,” James interrupted as gently as he could. He took Regulus’s other hand, adding light pressure. “Reg. Regulus.” He waited until Regulus met his eyes, keeping his tone even. “Do you trust me?”

Regulus

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do this - this was wrong, it was wrong, people were watching, they were watching, he was wrong -

“Hey, Reg?”

Wrong, wrong, all wrong, they were watching, they could see him, they could see him.

“I want to try something.”

Terror washed through him, and suddenly the world was too bright again and Regulus said something but he wasn’t exactly sure what because he was terrified that James was going to do it anyway and everyone was going to see -

“Regulus.”

There was pressure, gentle and grounding, and a solid tone that broke through everything else for a second. Just a second, and Regulus was looking at James. His James.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Regulus replied without thinking, the word effortless and automatic. Of course he trusted James.

He blinked, the situation hitting him. “But - James, I can’t - they can -”

“They can see,” James finished for him. “I know. Do you trust me?”

Regulus nodded, not sure how that solved anything.

“Okay.” James smiled, soft and kind, and something in Regulus relaxed. He knew that smile. That smile was safe. James was safe. “I’m going to try something. I’ll go slow, okay?”

His heartbeat kicked up again, but Regulus forced himself to breathe as he nodded. This was James. James had never done anything to push his boundaries. He wasn’t going to now. “Okay.”

James lifted one of his hands, slowly, making sure Regulus understood what he was doing before he did it.

And Regulus did. Oh, he did, and he loved James so much for this.

Soft lips brushed against the back of his hand, and Regulus felt the magic holding them there dissipate.

James moved, tugging him to the side, away from the awful plant. Regulus took a deep breath. He was free. He was okay. No one was watching him.

“Want to go upstairs?” James offered.

Regulus nodded - a small, controlled thing. It had to be controlled. He was in control.

He was in control all the way until the door to the dorm room closed behind them, and then he didn’t need to be in control anymore.

James caught him as he collapsed against the other boy, humming softly. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Regulus nodded, gasping, inhaling pine and eucalyptus like it was oxygen and he’d been holding his breath. “So stupid,” he managed, curling his hands in the fabric of James’s shirt. “Sorry. Sorry. So stupid.”

“Not stupid,” James denied. “Not ever. We’ve talked about it, remember? We don’t do anything in public.”

“Because of me,” Regulus pointed out, slowly recovering and refusing to acknowledge the tears burning in his eyes. “Because I’m this stupid, broken mess who can’t handle it.”

“Because you have boundaries, just like me, and that’s one of them and that’s perfectly okay,” James reminded him, holding him tightly. “A mistletoe kiss doesn’t mean anything, Reg, it’s just a tradition. Just a thing that someone made up somewhere. It’s not important.”

Regulus just nodded, trying to breathe somewhat evenly as he came back from the heightened state he’d been in. The pressure of James’s arms and the familiar scent and warmth helped. So did the soft, even tone that James used as he continued to speak.

“I know that must have felt awful, getting stuck there and feeling trapped with all those people in the room. It’s valid, love. You’re valid and it’s okay to feel whatever you need to. I’m not upset. No one is upset with you, you did everything right. So brave for me, you know that? So perfect.”

“I’m not perfect,” Regulus mumbled.

James shook his head - Regulus could feel it. “You are. So perfect. My amazing, perfect Regulus.”

They stayed that way for a while until James urged him to lay down, and then it really wasn’t long before Regulus drifted off to sleep, surrounded by warmth and comfort and soft, earnest words.

[lillmirey]

„The Weight of the Truth“

summary: in which Emily relays on her Girlfriend

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: Season 17 plot line used. fluff

Word Count: 1,2k

The BAU was quiet that night, the kind of silence that rang louder than the chaos the team usually endured. Emily Prentiss sat at her desk, the warm glow of her desk lamp highlighting the exhaustion etched into her face. You, her long-time girlfriend, had promised to meet her at Quantico to help her unwind after a particularly grueling week. You often joked that dating the Unit Chief of the BAU meant being her second-in-command when it came to maintaining her sanity.

But tonight, you could tell something was different.

The moment you stepped into her office, Emily’s eyes lifted to meet yours, and you could see the storm brewing behind them. Her lips quirked into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, closing the door behind you. You placed the takeout bag on her desk and walked over, your hands naturally finding her shoulders to knead out the tension. “You look like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world today.”

Emily leaned into your touch but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she closed her eyes, savoring the fleeting comfort you offered.

“You always know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“Of course I know,” you replied. “I know you better than anyone, Em.”

For a while, she let you work on the knots in her shoulders, the room enveloped in a comfortable silence. But then she spoke, her tone unsteady.

“(Y/N)… there’s something I need to tell you.”

You stilled, sensing the shift in the air. You moved to sit in the chair across from her, reaching for her hands.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together,” you assured her.

She looked down at your joined hands, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “This week has been… complicated. The team found out some things about me that I’ve been keeping under wraps. Things I never wanted to come out.”

You frowned, your mind racing. “What do you mean?”

Emily’s gaze lifted, the vulnerability in her eyes cutting you to your core. “Before I joined the BAU—before I even met you—I was… recruited by an international organization. It was supposed to be temporary, just a few undercover missions. But those missions turned into something darker, something I’ve been trying to bury ever since.”

Your heart clenched at the weight of her words, but you didn’t interrupt.

“One of those missions involved planting false evidence,” she continued. “It was supposed to take down a dangerous criminal network, but the fallout… it ruined lives. And now, it’s come back to haunt me. Someone leaked my involvement, and the team—” She broke off, her voice cracking.

“They’re questioning you,” you finished for her.

She nodded, her jaw tight. “They say they understand, but I can see the doubt in their eyes. I’ve worked so hard to lead this team with integrity, and now it feels like everything I’ve built is falling apart.”

You let her words sink in, the gravity of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Emily Prentiss was the strongest person you knew, but even she had her limits.

“Emily,” you said, your voice firm. “I don’t care about your past. I care about who you are now. And the woman I see in front of me is brave, compassionate, and willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people she loves.”

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “You say that now, but what if—”

“No,” you interrupted, squeezing her hands. “I’m not going anywhere, no matter how messy things get. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Emily’s lips parted as if to argue, but the look in your eyes stopped her. For once, she allowed herself to lean on you, the walls she so carefully constructed crumbling just a little.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

You stood, pulling her into a tight embrace. She clung to you, burying her face in the crook of your neck.

“I love you, Emily,” you murmured. “And we’re going to get through this. Together.”

--------------------------------------------------------

The fallout from Emily’s past continued to loom over the team in the weeks that followed. Tension was high, and trust was strained. You could see how it weighed on her, the constant scrutiny taking its toll.

One evening, you found her sitting on the couch in your shared apartment, staring blankly at the wall. You slid in beside her, tucking yourself under her arm.

“Bad day?” you asked gently.

She let out a heavy sigh. “They caught the leak, but the damage is done. I can tell the team’s still wary. And maybe they should be. Maybe I’m not the leader they deserve.”

“Don’t say that,” you said firmly. “You’ve saved more lives than I can count, Emily. You’ve made mistakes, sure, but that doesn’t erase all the good you’ve done.”

She looked at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance. “What if I can’t fix this? What if I lose everything I’ve worked for?”

“You won’t lose me,” you said softly.

That night, as you lay in bed together, you held her close, letting her feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. It was a silent promise—a reminder that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone.

--------------------------------------------------------

Months passed, and Emily slowly began to rebuild the trust she thought she’d lost. The team rallied around her, proving that the bonds they shared were stronger than any shadow from her past.

And you were there every step of the way, reminding her of her worth, of the love that surrounded her.

One evening, as you stood in the kitchen cooking dinner, Emily walked in, a rare smile gracing her lips. She wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“What’s this for?” you asked with a laugh.

“For being you,” she replied simply. “For sticking by me when I wasn’t sure I deserved it.”

You turned in her arms, cupping her face. “You deserve the world, Emily Prentiss. Don’t ever doubt that.”

In that moment, she realized that no matter how dark her past might be, the future was brighter because you were in it.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.

[derww]

for @heartcircus.

its not like zam actually tries to talk: he stands, carefully holding his notes, just staring at spawn, noticing one familiar face after another, feeling like all thoughts in his head became too heavy, and then just. turns around. and leaves.

you know, all of the princezam nature is to oppose, is to fight. but the last seasons taught him about just how important it is to appreciate people around, to do not only for yourself but for them too. and just today he promised to not interfere with mapicc's plans.

he can't fight, but he can't support. so he leaves. first time in many days, he has no words to say anymore.

all of it is just too familiar, and memories of the past cloud his mind and make every part of his body weak and stale. story repeats itself, and hed hate to see it continue and weave hemself into it, so he does not. i need some time to be alone, he says to derapchu and goes almost to the border – to sunny hill, surrounded by snow-capped mountains.

this time something in it reminds him too heavy. he doesn't build a castle. instead, he builds a hut.

it's not so bad, he says to himself, laying firewood in the stove, it's not season 4 anymore, noone will backdoor the server and mapicc will stop. sooner or later. i cant fight him, but i dont have to. everything will end. and then ill go back.

he feels so fucking tired. only now he understands just how tired he is. so he lies down. and sleeps. and sleeps. and sleeps.

it never gets better; the tombstone of exhaustion only presses him down harder and harder. he sleeps and sees dreams. he cooks himself food and eats it, feeling no taste. he plants flowers and takes care of them. sometimes he talks to derapchu. he never tells where he is.

only in so slow time he suddenly understands just how misplaced he is. he's patch on patch, stitched over and over again with scraps of fabric, no matter how worn or unsuitable they may be, over and over and over, stitched with scars running through his spine. he is a trace of something forgotten, overlaid by images of other people and experiences, accustomed to it so much that it feels like himself. he sleeps and sees no nightmares. maybe it's for the worse.

so far from anyone, without any real goal, Immersed deep into himself, he easily starts missing hours, days, and weeks. time doesn't feel real, and he, at the end, too. people write him. sometimes he answers. he never agrees to meet.

i'll go back when the mawn thing will be over; he promises to derap but hardly believes in it himself. something makes him feel like he has nothing to come back to. this house is also not his home, but it's at least silent here.

derap persists, but in the end he gives up too. and, in the end, he is left alone. he grows dandelions in the field around. when an unfamiliar flower appears in the field, he does not prevent it from growing nearby.

he blinks and feels like he missed a whole week. sometimes he just lies there and doesn't move. he doesn't feel the softness of the pillow, the springy floor under his feet, and, after all, he doesn't feel pain either. a ringing void freezes in his head. he feels tired, but sleep doesn't help.

he missed a moment something changes.

something about how the world exists around him. something about how forest smells like. something about how the grass is rustling under his feet. something is wrong, but he barely makes himself care. it doesn't matter, not really, but time still slows down. he slowly dips his hands into the loose earth, feeling the coolness and texture. nothing here belongs to him, but that's not the point. he plants some poppy seeds. one of them ends up in a pot on his windowsill.

i'm fully okay, he says to derap while not being able to remember what he ate today, i'm just in retirement for now. i will go back to you, i promise. i just need some time.

the boards under his feet creak differently. sometimes something whistles, like an unfamiliar bird. sometimes it seems to him that the grass next to the house is crushed.

isn't this a true peaceful life, he asks himself. to run away from everything and be alone. in the end, there is no way to harm anyone if you are alone. he feels like he was running a marathon all this time and only now stopped.

he adds blue orchids, but their blue is drowning in the red. he takes the smallest orchid inside and turns it into a magnificent flower. In a moment of weakness, he takes the cornflower inside. the next one turns out to be an orange tulip. he doesn't comprehend it.

is it what i wanted in season four, he asks himself. this place strangely reminds him of it. he reminds himself of it, too, allowing himself to feel anything. he still can't decide if it's a good thing. 

the rain is pounding on his window. someone is knocking on his coffin lid. poppies fill the whole field.

i miss them, he writes on a paper. but i can't go back yet. not while spawn is someone's. not while i have to fight my best friend.

when he comes back from the forest, his house still keeps warmth. his footsteps are echoing, and his diary is open by the wind. i miss being able to decide, this page says. i was good at it once.

he doesn't feel sick. he feels dump. the green in his cape is starting to fade.

sometimes it seems to me that i won't be able to overcome this, he writes. but I know i can handle it. i always can. i will overcome anything. i just can't give up.

the forest smells of pine and fir, and it has not been lost in the trees for a long time, wandering far beyond the edge. the forest always brings him back when he wants to. it never holds him by force and generously supplies him with tree cones and wet moss. he always comes back because he has nowhere to go.

this time, when he comes home, he has a visitor. he is not surprised: he calls them by name, nods, makes tea from fir needles.

mapicc rests his head on his elbows.

– lets go home, – he says. zam shakes his head.

– to mawn? – he asks.

mapicc squints.

– yes.

– i won't.

– why.

zam looks at him almost regretfully.

– because i refuse to fight you, – he answers simply, – and i will have no choice but to.

– even fighting me is much better than- than whatever this is, – mapicc remarks irritably.

– i don't want to fight you ever again, – zam signs, – i know you like me as your enemy. i do not.

– you don't have to fight me. join me.

– i hate everything you've created, – he answers with pity, – and i can't change it. please, leave me alone. do whatever you want to do. and one day i'll be able to go back.

– i dont understand why you oppose it so much. you haven't even given it a try. is it, like, that bad? people love it; you can love it too.

zam shakes his head.

– did you really come to convince me to love what I hate?

– i came to invite you to my thing.

– not this time.

in the end, mapicc still leaves. only after that zam takes his floor apart to find a secret passage under the boards. it leads to a dug-out underground room filled with anything. there are books everywhere. an unmade bed. and a pot with a dandelion in the middle of the makeshift countertop.

mapiccs room, says the sign. he adds a glow ink to it and looks around again.

for an infinitely long moment he considers just starting to live here.

[elyxir1zz]

★ — Chubby!reader x Sevika

CW : nsfw , prositiution , sub!reader , revealing clothes , bdsm , humiliation, some dub con elements

A/N : ive been having some weird dreams recently and i wanted to write them out, reader is chubby in the fic curvy hourglass with rolls specifly also im giving reader waist length hair

you were new to the brothel and had caught the eye of an older women. You eventually found out she was asking questions about you. you were diffent from the other workers, instead of being butt ass naked you wore a double slit dress that ran up your hip made out of silk, though it was a hard cloth to find but with enough connections to topside you can pretty much find anything you want. your stop being made with the same fabric. you didnt wear undergarments according to the uniform rules, you could techincly see everything leaving nothing to the imagination

you had scene sevika out of the corner of your eye several times when flirting with clients, even seen her walk by your room when in the middle of a session, she stared for aslong as she could before it was considered weird. finally the lady had requested you for her session. you wanted to impress her since, well she was hot and you have seen her around zaun, the way she fought and laughed when she won in gambling

so you had to give her the best time of her life. fourtunently with enough puppy eyes and asking, you discovered everything she liked and disliked from past workers who had her as a client.

you walked down the hallway and into your room, a small space yet still had charater, a couch in the middle pressed agianst the wall with overgrown plants. not expecting anyone yet you were suprised to see sevika sitting and smoking on your couch. "i think your my first client who doesnt smoke shimmer" you walked over to her

"theres a first for everything, baby" she put the ciggerette out on the couch sevika smirked as you sat next to her resting your elbow on the head of the couch. "ive seen you around the brothel" the scary lady looked over at you, bringing her mech hand to caress your thigh, "ive noticed" you say looking up from her hand. sevikas face quickly turned red

you raised your eyebrow as you grabbed her shoulders and hauled yourself on her lap, straddling her thighs. "ive also noticed your a tense person, has anyone helped you with that here?" you tilt you head "no. nobody. do you want to try your luck anyway , bunny?" she couldnt stare at anything but your clevage. "what do you do for work?" you asked, lifting her head up.

"is that a joke?"

sevikas voice is annoyed, you giggled "no," you looked off to the side "i know you work for silco but, what specificly do you do?" you leaned down both of your noses touching. "i wish i could tell you baby" sevika ran her hands further and further down you back eventually squeezing your ass

you were caught off gaurd, not paying attention to what her hands were doing "i-" you stutter "ive barely touched you and yet your speechless." sevika moved her hands to your chest as you slid your fingers down to her neck. her hands begining to squeeze your tits

"these are beautiful" she looked you in the eyes, dissapointed you leant back a little to slide your top off. she smirked, picking you up from her lap and onto your back, she moved her knee between your thighs. you hitched your breath "such a dirty slut" sevika cooed

your eyes widened looking up at her. no client has ever degraded you just alot of praise, sevika could tell it excited you, chuckling "so quiet," she teased, pressing her knee further agianst your warmth, every movement sevika made, you felt intoxicated and light headed

sevika rutted her thigh agianst your clit, "oh god" you move your hand to your mouth, sevika quickly pinned your hands above your head "i want everyone to hear you. that im treating you better then any asshole who walks in here"

sevika was able to pin you down with such ease. as she looked around the room, finding a pair of hand cuffs, she looked at you with that snarky grin, cuffing you quickly so she could get back to worshiping your body, she kissed your neck but the kisses turned into biting roughly, making you cry out in pain

she moved down to your chest, twisting and pinching your nipples. looking back up at you just to see your reactions, the way you whimpered and drooled made her go crazy. "so sensitive" she purred moving down to your hips, caressing them and running her finger over your strech marks

"everytime i see you, i want these to be shown." she rested her hand on your belly, "okay" you giggled, she grabbed your ankles and rested them on her shoulders, she grabbed your face roughly leaning in

your lips were almost touching, breathing eachothers air. you felt dizzy, looking up at the celing as she shoved her tounge in your mouth. she squeezed your cheeks, pulling away with a strig of saliva connecting your lips

she lifted your hips a little, moving your skirt out of the way "oh my god." she felt your sensitive clit "you really are nothing but a dirty slut" sevika pressed her mouth agianst your cunt, licking between your folds, you moan loudly in response as you pulled on the hand cuffs

you cried out closing your eyes, sevika flicked her tounge against your clit. you whimpered and squirmed, bucking your hips into her. "stay still, or are you to much of a pathetic slut to even comprahend such a simple task"

sevika put your hips and ankles down. giving you a breather before she pressed her fingers agianst your entrance. she started off on a quick pace, watching you struggle to hold back "dont cum" she growled stopping right when you felt the orgasm creep up. you cried out as she smirked.

"sevika" you looked at her face "please" you plead. "are you begging baby?" she chuckled starting a slow pace "let me cum please" you buck your hips "yeah?" she teased picking up the pace. you went still as the wave of pleasure drowned you. twitching slighty

sevika let you sit for a second before she moving her fingers your clit, rubbing in circular motions slowly you choked on tears. "are you crying?" she teased "what a cry baby, lets see how much you can handle"

you sob as she spead up. it was so overwhelming, as everthing slowed down after you hit your second orgasam. "oh god" you huff out as she moved her hand "you cant handle anything can you? you cum so fast" she licked her fingers before holding your face

"ill make sure to handle that next time"

sevika stood up covering your bare chest with her coat but leaving the handcuffs "wh- wait" you yell out for her as she walked away, she was about to leave the room before looking over at you with a grin on her face

[misettemisette]

Starting over in Madrid

Hey, I'm back after having my account terminated. I'm starting to repost my fanfic Starting over in Madrid episode by episode. I've done minor corrections, mostly vocabulary, scenario temporality and pictures that weren't working well.

Feel free to read or reread it and gave me your feedback. We can't say it enough but we, writers, love feedback <3

Chapter 1 ➺  A harder job than I thought

Summary : After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players?  1K words TW : None

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

I was never really interested in football before being employed at Real Madrid. Of course, I used to watch a few games on TV during the main championships. But I had never intended to work for a football club, least of all in Spain. But here I was, late twenties, speaking a few words of Spanish, entering the Ciudad Real Madrid for day one of my new job as the new official photographer.

Introductions went well. Staff was nice. Work seemed interesting, with quite a lot to do on the creative side. I felt great. My office was located on the second floor on the west side of the building, a bit apart from the training grounds. I took a few minutes to settle in my chair, gazed through the window at the Alfredo di Stefano stadium and saw the tiny silhouettes of the footballers training. My manager, Ana, came to have me introduced to the girls and I quickly grabbed my camera to follow her to the pitch. 

The winter sun, cold but bright, blinded me as I came out. My eyes took a moment to adjust, shouts of trainers and players echoing all around. There were far more people than I expected, making me feel intimidated but Ana didn’t let me time to relax. She talked with some guys to interrupt training and the players slowly came toward us. They gathered around us, some of them still panting when Ana spoke again. 

"Hello everyone, let me introduce you to our new photographer Y/N. But you can call her Nicky as she likes it better." 

"Hi, I never liked my name", I said nervously. 

The girls stared at me, some of them smiling friendly. I couldn’t help but notice their muscular arms and thighs. Strength oozed from their bodies. There were pretty faces among them too. Ana told me the names of each player. The last one, a very tanned girl, was looking away, looking slightly bored. 

"And finally, this is Misa", she said pointing at her. Misa looked at me, her dark eyes resting on my face for just a moment while she quickly waved her hand in a welcoming gesture before she looked away again. She was really pretty and I felt my face grew hot. I was a professional photographer. It was explicitly written in my employment contract that dating the team members was prohibited. I shook away my inappropriate feelings as the introducing part ended.

A few days passed as I settled in my new life. I had found a tiny apartment in Lavapiés. Got everything I needed. I was rather happy to start over. I had quit my toxic ex-girlfriend a few months ago and my very boring previous job. Each day, I went to the pitch to film the team arriving and to take pictures of the footballers training in order to post on the social media. They all seemed nice, though some of them looked bothered to be photographed all the time. Linda, Naomi, Sofie and Hayley clearly enjoyed being in front of the camera while Ivana, Olga and Misa tried to avoid it most of the time. We chatted very little, everyone focused on their respective work. 

***

Then came the day of the big photoshoot for brand-new kits. It was a very busy day. Adidas had designed a specific set with a moss background and real plants around. It was a bit too much for my taste but I didn’t have my word to say as the campaign was managed by the brand. I was assisting the Adidas photographer by giving pose instructions to the girls. I took some shoots too. 

We were shooting for nearly five hours when Misa’s turn came. I couldn’t say I didn’t notice how attractive she was in her new pale purple kit. Her tan skin contrasted sharply with the fabric. She had a piercing on her left nostril I’d never seen before. Her long hair was let down, falling on her broad shoulders. She took her place, clearly used to being a model.

"Misa, face the camera", I said. Her dark eyes crossed mine before she looked straight at the camera and composed a smile. I could tell she was feeling confident, but I wasn’t sure she was really enjoying it. "Switch to profile, please". "Strike a pose". "Now put your gloves on". Misa obediently took pose after pose. 

"Are we done yet?" she asked, looking at me patiently. 

"I think we are thank you. Thanks God you’re the last one !" 

"I find it tiring already, so I can’t imagine how it must be for you." She said, her brows frowning. She walked aside from the set. I started to put away the equipment next to her. "It’s okay, I like my job. Today is just a bit repetitive"

"Are we cool models ?" I looked up at her. Her face had relaxed since the photoshoot ended. A shy smile appeared on her lips as she suddenly seemed to think her question was embarrassing. 

"In fact yes, indeed. Like, as a photographer, there is everything to adjust. When you’re training, you’re moving fast so I have to increase shutter speed. When you’re posing like today, the shutter can be slower but you need good exposure…" My voice trailed off as I took a glimpse of her perplex expression. "Sorry I have never known how to talk about my job. You see, technical aspects play a huge part in photography." 

"Don’t worry, I haven’t a clue of what you are taking about but it actually got me interested." She was smiling frankly now and that made her ever more beautiful. I tried to focus one folding the spotlights back in there bags. "Those lights make you very warm and sweaty" she said. "I’ll go change. See you Nicky." 

“Bye Misa.”

I was feeling both disappointed by her departure and relieved to be able to finish tidying things up more serenely when I heard Misa’s embarrassed voice rise from the backroom. "Hum… please can someone help me?"

I dropped the camera I was packing and went there thinking that fucking day would never end. I suppressed a laugh when I saw Misa struggling with her jersey over her head. The collar was picked up somewhere around her nose. I forced myself to look away from her well shaped abs and the low-cut of her sports bra.

"Misa, it’s Nicky, what’s happening ?" 

"The jersey… in my nose ring. I can’t take it off !"

"Hold still, I’do it."

I slowly came closer to Misa and delicately held the jersey’s collar while looking for where her piercing had gotten stuck. A fabric fiber had indeed been taken inside the small golden ring. I tried hard to concentrate. Her mouth was twitching nervously. I was so close to her face, I could feel her breath. She pursed her luscious lips as I finally removed the string, let out a sigh and took off the jersey. Her eyes met mine again while I took a step back. "Thanks, I thought I’d lose my nose on this one…" 

"You did well to ask for help, you could have hurt yourself." 

"I’m glad it was you and not some random Adidas guy. All my friends are gone by now." 

"Anytime !" I shrugged, feeling hot again. She gathered her clothes and started taking off her shorts. Footballers really weren’t modest. I turned around, ready to leave. I felt I was unable to take anymore glances at Misa’s body parts. "Bye then" I said softy.

"Bye, and Nicky, you definitely have to teach me some photo stuff! I’m serious." I slowly turned back to her. She had already put her trousers and T shirt on. "Yes, sure… after tomorrow’s training if you’d like." 

"Yeah, count on me."

She gathered her stuff, gestured goodbye, and left. 

My job was turning out to be harder than I expected.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

[transtrashpanda]

I really hate how much this fandom ignores Peter as being part of the group because he betrayed the Potters (and when they do include him he's treated like shit), so here are my favorite Peter hcs cause he's one of my fav characters and doesn't get enough attention!!

he's amazing at herbology and loves plants + him tutoring the others in it because he and James are the only ones who give a damn about it (James' mum adores gardening and he helped her a lot growing up)

he is a fiend for green clothes and wears green (sage greens particularly) c o n s t a n t l y

he had braces starting the summer after third and ending in early to mid fifth (he was lucky enough to not need headgear though)

James and Sirius affectionately called him "brace-face" and "tin-grin" during that time

he, James, and Marlene all grew up together and Euphemia's love for gardening got him started with his love of plants (he always takes time to talk to her about his new plants when they all go to the Potter's for the hols and she thinks it's just the sweetest)

probably smoked weed

ok he definitely smoked week

aroace but doesn't have the labels to properly describe it cause it's the 70s

doesn't quite understand gay people (or romance in general but he gets that slightly more) but if it makes his mates happy then it's cool by him!

he and James are the sole reasons Remus and Sirius regularly consume meals

has major anxiety but also a fuck it we ball mentality (one of my favs! it's so fun to play with how they mix for him!! highly recommend)

really fucking funny but doesn't talk much so no one outside of his friends know about his absolute wicked sense of humor

he either remembers every word of a conversation you had with six years ago or doesn't remember even talking to you two days ago. there is no in between and there is no way of telling which you'll get

he probably had a lazy, orange cat who ONLY liked him and Sirius

yum bagels

struggles with words but will randomly say the most eloquent, wise old man esque shit ever and then goes back to stuttering

reads books with Remus and Lily!!

wore green to a quiddich match against slytherin once and James and Sirius stole everything off his bed and hid it from him for a week (he just cuddled with Remus every night)

loves baking and cooking but is pants at it (he's getting better though!!)

can convincingly bark like a dog???

probably cried to Lily a couple times because 'why are his friends so fucking oblivious??'

makes fun of his friends unprovoked, constantly

literal god at chess (only time he loses is when he pretends to while teaching underclassmen)

insanely good at photography!!

asfhgfsfdaaa

I love him sm and have so many more so if you're interested don't be afraid to send an ask :)

[jenosbliss]

The One With a Special Apron ❄️🎄

pairing. gn!reader x jaemin | genre. fluff | wc. 616 | warnings. none

You had lost count of how many times you’d walked from the bedroom to the kitchen, hoping Jaemin would finally give up his takeover of your favorite Christmas tradition. Baking cookies had always been your thing, the one holiday tradition you boasted about to everyone. But this year, Jaemin decided it was his turn, leaving you feeling both annoyed and intrigued.

The whole fiasco had started earlier in the day when you walked into the kitchen, finding Jaemin cracking eggs into a bowl, his sleeves rolled up and a determined look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you asked, already suspicious.

“Baking cookies,” he replied casually, like this was a perfectly normal thing for him to do.

“Why are you baking? That’s my job!” you protested, marching over to grab the mixing bowl from his hands.

Jaemin just laughed, holding the bowl out of your reach. “Not this year. This year, it’s my turn. Now, back to the bedroom with you—go on!”

Before you could argue further, he gently pushed you out of the kitchen and closed the door behind you.

Huffing, you retreated to the bedroom, flopping onto the bed and pulling the blankets over your head. You couldn’t believe he was taking over your Christmas cookies.

Later, curiosity got the better of you, and you made your way back to the kitchen. Sitting on a stool across the counter, you leaned forward and asked, “Are you done yet?”

Jaemin didn’t even look up. “Just three more seconds… and done!”

As the microwave timer beeped, a sweet, heavenly aroma of vanilla and chocolate filled the room. Your mouth watered as he slipped on oven mitts and pulled out the tray of freshly baked cookies, each one perfectly golden and tempting.

He plated the cookies carefully, placing them right in front of you. Unable to resist, you reached for your favorite chocolate cookie, but before you could grab it, Jaemin swatted your hand away.

“Excuse me?” you said, glaring at him. “What now?”

Instead of answering, he stepped back, his grin growing mischievous. Spreading his arms wide, he gestured to the bold red apron he was wearing. In big white letters, it read: Kiss the Cook.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Seriously?”

“Rules are rules,” he teased, holding the plate of cookies just out of your reach. “No kiss, no cookies.”

Determined to win, you stood and tried to snatch the plate from him, jumping as high as you could. But Jaemin was taller—and apparently enjoying this way too much.

“Fine!” you finally huffed, giving up. Grabbing him by the apron, you pulled him down and planted a kiss on his lips.

What started as a quick peck turned into something deeper as his arms slid around your waist, holding you close. His lips were soft, warm, and utterly distracting, making you momentarily forget all about the cookies.

When he finally pulled back, he grinned down at you. “There. Was that so hard?”

“Can I eat my cookies now?” you asked, a little breathless but still stubborn.

Chuckling, Jaemin handed you the cookie you’d been eyeing. “Go ahead. You’ve earned it.”

Taking a bite, you let out a satisfied moan. “Okay, these are really good,” you admitted, though it pained you to give him the win.

Jaemin leaned against the counter, looking way too proud of himself. “Told you I could do it.”

You shot him a mock glare. “Next year, I’m getting you an apron that says Kick the Cook.”

He laughed, stealing a bite of your cookie. “I’d still look good in it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. Jaemin always had a way of making everything—cookies included—a little sweeter.

tags:: divider created by @cafekitsune 🫶🏻

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

navigation.

[crunchystarz]

haiii I love your writing and esp your self aware au!

Do you think you can do one for your au with Riddle and mc where mc basically fusses over him (trying to do all the chores before and after work so he doesn’t have to even though he has nothing better to do, double checking for his needs/wants a lot) all the time like they’re trying desperately to keep a house plant alive even though he’s more than fine?? (If that makes ANY sense 😭)

thanks a bunch, take your time!🖤

Xo, Manny

"Take a break"

Self-aware!Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader

Cw- Reader honestly just overworking the self, fluff, oneshot

Word count: 1446

A/N: HII imma be so honest I hope I did this req right if not I beg your biggest pardon 🙂‍↔️(fancy voice), also while this is technically a yandere au this one is just Riddle getting reader prioritize their needs so, either way enjoy!

Riddle Rosehearts was always your favorite twisted wonderland character. Even so you never expected or could have prepared for him to not only gain Self-awareness but also become a real person.

Since he's started living with you, you felt the need to monitor him almost like a toddler. You're always cooking and cleaning for him , despite his constant protests. Yeah he can do everything himself he's fully capable but a part of you is so afraid that he'll break or something if you don't.

You would wake up early in the morning just to make sure everything was tidy and Riddle would have breakfast when he eventually woke from his slumber. You would always clean up after him even if he told you he was going to once he was finished.

You made sure he'd get sleep or drink enough water. Which would be fine if you yourself did the same. You're always so worried about if he's getting enough of something or if there was anything he wanted, yet when it came to you, you'd completely brush them off.

You stumbled through the door late at night. Riddle watched observantly from the couch, closing the book he was reading. His gray eyes followed you as you went to set the bags you held in your hands on the island surface.

“You're home rather late [Name] “ He spoke as he stood up, slowly making his way over to you. You just yawned and stretched out your stiff body. You could just feel his gaze on you.

“Yeah sorry they had me working late— yawn , you need anything? I could make you some dinner if you hadn't already or I could run you a bath” you responded trying to stay upbeat despite your clearly tired appearance.

Riddle shook his head. “No not at all you should sleep “ he spoke sternly, crossing his arms. You let out a tired giggle.

“Yeah yeah I will, after I finish cleaning up the kitchen — speaking of did you eat and drink today?”

The red head let out a sigh. You'd constantly worry about him, he was completely capable of taking care of himself, he wasn't a small child anymore and despite not being completely familiar with this world he wasn't stupid either.

“Yes, I did but from the looks of this you clearly haven't, ” You snickered a bit before shaking your head.

“Oh you worry too much, I've just had a busy night I'm fine” You replied, walking over to the other side of the island just to be stopped. You lazily tilted your head as Riddle held your wrist firmly.

“I already cleaned the kitchen while you were away” The house warden said, before gently guiding you away with a hand on your back.

“Great, I'll make us something to eat” you said, letting out a yawn. Riddle sighed before leaning you over to the couch.

“You shall do no such thing, now sit” He commanded, his voice stern. You blinked , but continued to sit anyway, not wanting to see what would happen if you didn't. The idea of him using his signature crosses your sleep deprived mind and it makes you shiver despite him ever using it on you since he got here.

“Riddle I'm fine I promise I just need to—”

“To what Collapse of exhaustion?” Riddle cut you off, his voice was pointed and full of authority. Much more serious than before “You're overworking yourself again, I'm more than capable of taking care of everything so just relax” he continued, expression softening at your tired state.

You groaned and laid back against the couch cushions. You felt a little guilty. He was the one teleported into a different world. You should be the one taking care of him and all his needs, not the other way around.

Riddle moved around the kitchen with ease. You watched as the red head got on his tippy toes to grab one of your mugs from the cabinets. You wanted to tell him you could do it for him but you just knew he'd protest. You slumped into the couch more.

He was quick to take the kettle off the stove once it started to hiss softly. He carefully poured the hot water into the cup. Riddle was observant and made sure to add just the right amount of sweetness. It had to be perfect. Once satisfied he set the tea down to go find the cookies he had made earlier.

He had a lot of time to spend when you were gone after all. He made his way way over to you, gray eyes watched as you perked up at the sight of the sweets.

“You didn't have to rea—”

“Don't start “ The house warden cut you off. He handed you the cup, carefully so you wouldn't burn your hands. He placed the cookies on the coffee table before sighing.

“You seriously work yourself to exhaustion and still proceeded to worry about me, it's foolish if you ask me” Riddle said, placing his hands on his hips. You looked down at the warm liquid in your mug thinking for the right words.

“It's just, I'm supposed to take care of you , I owe you that at least you know… “ you mumbled before taking a sip of the tea.

“You owe me nothing, I am not a child who needs to be protected, I am not fragile and neither are you however “ He pauses for a moment looking down at you. “You can become fragile if you do not upkeep yourself “

You opened your mouth to respond;to protest, but Riddle held up a hand to stop you.

“I am not ungrateful,” he spoke out, his voice softening yet still stern.“I appreciate everything you’ve done since I arrived here.You’ve given me a home, patience, and care that I could never have expected. But…” He hesitated, his gray eyes searching your face for a moment before he continued. “...You can’t give all of that to me at the expense of yourself.”

You blinked at him, a little stunned by the depth of his words. “Listen I’m not—”

“You are,” Riddle interrupted firmly, leaning slightly closer. “You work late, come home, and immediately worry about whether I’ve eaten or rested, yet you neglect your own needs. Do you think I don’t notice? I’ve seen you skipping meals, staying up far too late cleaning, and leaving your own tasks undone to take care of mine.”

You frowned, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. If you could you'd sink into the couch cushions even more. “I know that, Riddle. I just… It feels like if I don’t do these things, I’m failing you somehow.”

His eyes widened for a second before shaking his head. “No, no how could you be failing me? If anything you're failing yourself”

You hesitated, your tongue poking at your cheek as you toyed with the mug in your hands. "I'm not failing myself," you tried weakly, though the exhaustion in your voice betrayed you. Riddle let out a long sigh, running a hand through his vibrant red hair.

“You are," he countered, his voice lowering. "And if you won't take the necessary steps to care for yourself, then I will ensure it happens."

Your breath caught in your throat "You don't have to do that, Riddle," you said, "You're supposed to be my guest, not my caretaker."

Riddle's lips twitched, his frown somehow deepened more for a split second. A look of…disappointment? "A guest? Is that how you still see me?"

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. "I mean… I guess. I don’t know how else to describe this situation. All I know is I don't want you to go back to being under that pressure like you did back at home”

His mind went blank for a second. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “[Name]” he started softly. You watched him as he looked away with red cheeks. After a moment he continued.

“Like I've stated before you've helped me in ways I couldn't imagine you don't need to push yourself just for my sake I can help I am a house warden after all, I care for you…a lot so do not tangle yourself in with my needs if you are not to take care of your own…please”

You wanted to protest but the words laid flat on your tongue. You could just nod in defeat as you rested your mug on the coffee table. Riddle smiled slightly before clearing his throat and putting back a stern face—blush still clear on his face.

“Good now I shall go run you a bath, then you shall get some much needed rest” The house warden said taking your now empty cup and plate into the kitchen.

When was the last time you felt cared for like this? All you knew was that it made your heart swell. Riddle Rosehearts was always your favorite..

MASTERLIST

[harpsinfinity]

Kisses

Leon kennedy X afab!fem!reader

Genre: smut (of course)

Ever since I came back and wrote that Carlos fic I've just been wanting to write write and write

All Leon craved was his lips on yours, the feeling was nothing short of blissful. He needed your lips like he needed oxygen, vital.

From the quick pecks he'd deliver to you before leaving you to the heavy makeout sessions you'd share. With tongues down eachothers throats that was soon followed with your brains being fucked out.

Each and every time his lips skimmed your body, it had you shivering and arching into his touch like you'd never experienced this before. You could never get used to the mind-numbing pleasure he so generously gave you, it got even better every time he had you stretched out beneath him.

He could make it slow and sensual, your lips gliding over his with a hand on his jaw. Usually paired with his fingers of cock working it's way deep inside your guts, yet gentle and slow. His fingers laced with yours and sweet nothings whispered to your ears one after the other. This type of kiss he gave you was so loving and intimate, it made your heart swell with affection and your pussy throb with anticipation.

Or Leon could be all tongue and teeth. His tongue dominating your mouth and teeth clashing together, a hand planted on the back of your head, tangled in your hair to prevent pulling away from the suffocating kiss that made your head spin.

This was when he decided (or you asked) to be rough with you. His fat, heavy cock pumping in and out of your stuffed cunt in a frenzy. His fingers meanly toying with your overworked, puffy clit. It would be after the umpteenth time you'd gushed around him that he pecks your lips before sweeping you up in his arms and away to the bathroom to clean up.

Each and every one of his kisses had the ability to leave you breathless and completely soaked and wanting.

The kisses he gave to your cunt were even more extraordinary. Never leaving your bundle of nerves unattended for too long, even if he did, how could you dare to complain when he had his tongue stuffed inside of your slick hole?

His hands clamped around your hips, preventing you from trying to run away from the bliss. Forced (not really) to take everything he gave you, he'd give and give until you couldn't take anymore.

Even through overstimulation, he wouldn't stop until every inch of your body had been marked with his lips, marked as his and rendered speechless.

"Leon- Leon please ! No more ! Can't.."

you'd whine through the pleasured haze you were encapsulated in, you had been properly fucked out from the experience he gave you.

He'd simply shush you, murmuring softly isn't your ear

"just a little more, angel. You can do that for me, yeah?"

All you can do is nod while he continued with his ministrations, tears lining your eyes and drool seeping from the corners of your lips.

[huffelpuff210]

What we need part 1

Loki x shy reader

Summary: you are a shy yet brilliant person, you don’t really talk to anyone what happens when Loki takes an interest in you

You never really interacted with anyone in the tower Tony brought you as an avenger because of your brilliant mind, and your healing abilities, you could heal most injuries but it alway came with a price, you would run extremely hot and be in bed for weeks depending on the injury, you mostly stayed in the library or in the lab working with Tony, Tony understood you silence, he understood why you never really spoke your mind, especially at you college graduation when your family never bothered showing up, digging deeper he knew exactly why you always seemed to have walls up, your family never appreciated you, they always talked down to you, your older brother was always the better chid, you were nothing compared to him.

Tony never told you that he knew but he would look at you with concern when you would arrive at the tower in the middle of the night, he offered you a place to stay, you eagerly accepted. Still you never really talked to anyone, when Loki arrived he just thought You were just like the rest of the avengers that didn’t like him, that was until he witnessed how cold you were to the others.

“She never talks…” Steve says with a sigh

“and that surprises you?” Natasha says

“Look I know she’s awkward and icy towards you, but she’s beyond brilliant get used to it.” Tony glares at everyone and leaves the room

it was then Loki realized you were like this towards everyone.

Loki started slowly to try to get to know you as a person merely out of curiosity,

You would just nod most times, it felt as if he was getting nowhere, that was until he realized you loved to read and spend time in the library he stumbled upon this by accident he found you reading in the corner of the library reading an ancient language book,

“Hmm looks like something from my plant,” he commented not expecting you to answer

“Yes… Thor lent it to me..” you said quietly

Your voice was beautiful like music to his ears. From that moment on he tried to get you to talk, every time you responded he wanted to hear more, you were like a symphony to his ears.

but for you every time you would talk to Loki you would fear he would snap at you or talk down to you like your family has, instead he would just smile at you and voice his opinion, you didn’t understand why he would go out of his way to talk to you especially for so long the others gave up after trying so many times,

but that night when Clint goth brought in severely injured and when you healed him everything between you and Loki changed….

[buff-electra-truther]

I've alluded to the concept a number of times, but here's my redesign for OLC Belle the Sleeping Car wildly roleswapped into a Momma/Poppa figure for Electra, as Belle the GG1. You could probably give her a better name, but Belle is passable enough since all locomotives in the US have bells, I mainly kept it to preserve the flow of her song (see below cut for her version!). Based on their status and appearance in their absolute final running days in 1984. They may look glossy and pretty (if a WILD time warp) but they were on their absolute last gasp physically at this point after running for nearly 50 years, due to a lack of suitable replacement. Her dress follows a similar logic to Greaseball's outfit in that it represents the streamlined cowl, which is why she's less mechanical than most.

Personality-wise, she's also oooooold and based on Ella Fitzgerald, even more heavily than OLC Belle since she's fits perfectly with the time/place/personality of the GG1s. Both started in the mid-30s in New York City, and were noted for being "effortless" and almost unparalleled in their field. I tend to imagine her playing more on the "cute, humble, and improvisational" side of Ella, entering the big race just to have one last good run before she retires, and forgetting lyrics and making up something that sounds natural. In my mind she wins because the tracks are rough and winding, which she's far more used to that the other Nationals, with how decrepit parts of her Northeast Corridor were in the 80s and still are now- experience is a quality that counts for a lot!

She toes the line between OC and AU since she's such a twist on the original but stays largely true to her general concept. I'll call her more of an AU and say anyone is free to use this interpretation if they want, I'm not possessive of it at all.

Realistically she'd be dead as a doornail after 1984 (GG1s will just never run in preservation, they were in such bad shape and would need so much work to function on modern systems you may as well build a new replica). But make a cheeky joke about Controls' mom "sticking the old shell on a new body and not telling the kid" and she can come back. I like to think she'd have a flirty, playful rivalry with Momma/Poppa, she'd make Light At The End Of The Tunnel a duet about how steam is great.... for power plants! The Pennsylvania Railroad just stopped getting more steam engines when it electrified lines vs axing them so she wouldn't have any historical antagonism with them.

Here's my rewrite of Belle's Song largely following the original format, but now about the real history of the GG1s

Speed and youth ain't everything

Experience is a quality that counts for a lot

The sad thing 'bout experience is

By the time you've got it

It's usually all you've got...

I'm Belle, Belle, Belle, the GG1

Had my fifty years of fun

My frame is cracked, I’m almost done

Though in my heart, I long to run

I hauled the folks, I hauled the freight

I made good time, no need to wait

Just couple up and ride with me

I’d get you where you want to be

Once I was the hope for the future, wires run from coast to coast

Service every hour, to everywhere, hauling the post!

Now it’s just tragic…

The war then came, it all fell down

Restriction made the new tech drown

Let autos win, pave over it all

Watched the railroads slowly fall

Still I was a real mainliner, they struggled to replace me

Ran commuter trains into the ground

Down by the sea…. At least it was scenic

Oh, Belle, Belle, Belle, the GG-LOST

I’m worn down, yet I’m still boss

I may not be first class, but I'm not yet worst class

I can still take you when the night is dark

I’m withered, but I ain’t lost my spark

[scribefindegil]

the season of plant sales is upon us and I am thriving

[bobosbillionsknives]

this kids got issues