#they deserve to be in that competition too

[l0v3r666]

YOU BACK :D!

Hopeless in love Ace and Deuce, but both are in love with MC. I can already imagine the disaster that would be.

wait isn’t this what the game is about??

Hopeless!Adeuce is insufferable with their crushes- but the thing is Ace knows Deuce likes you (and vice versa) but neither of them are aware of their OWN feelings,, they’re much too preoccupied with the icky sensation of seeing you with someone else, (100x worse if it’s not either of them) it’s excused that he’s feeling that way because he covets your friendship and doesn’t want to lose you. But when they do realize their feelings that’s when it gets real.

Hopeless!Deuce loves you loyally. He wants a life with you after he achieves his goals, and definitely thinks you’d suit a neat suburban life (maybe with a couple kids?). But he’s way too scared to admit it :( what’s he supposed to do if you reject him? All the class time he’s spent thinking about you would be wasted!!

Hopeless!Deuce thinks Ace is a total sleaze. Sure they might be friends (maybe), but that doesn’t mean he deserves to have you! Deuce would much rather protect your peace than lose to Ace, and it’s only a little awkward when Deuce shows up at your dorm even though Ace insists on hanging out alone. Deuce is only second to Grim when blocking your love life, and neither of them are very good at it <3

Hopeless!Ace doesn’t even chance thinking of life after school. Why’d he trash brain power on something that cheesey when he’s just looking for a little fun? He may want you to watch his games and give him good luck kisses, but it’s not like he LOVES you. Maybe just.. advanced liking.

Hopeless!Ace gets downright devious with how he sabotages Deuce, to the point that nothing is off the table anymore. From hiding important assignments to turning off his alarm- he’s evil about it, and so annoying. That’s what tips Deuce off that he has competition.

Hopeless!Adeuce can’t do anything right without their favourite prefect, so show them how it’s done! Alternatively, you do have pick of the litter and some of the other freshmen’ll cause less headache.. Please let them show you the “loveable scamp” is worth sticking around for!

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕲OOD LUCK, BABE (X’MAS SPECIAL)

Sophia Laforteza x fem!reader

summary: when sophia left for dream academy, she bid you a quick and gut-wrenching goodbye then disappeared from your life. now, two years later, when she’s welcomed home for the holidays, she has mixed feelings when she sees the new boyfriend you’ve brought to meet your family

warnings: nsfw, suggestive/sexual themes, harsh language, angst, mean!sophia, toxicity, jealousy, cheating, dom!sophia, sub!reader, degradation

Y/N always knew Sophia was going to a pop star. She was so passionate about singing, so passionate about performing, she knew her ambition would drive her to success.

The Laforteza’s and the L/N’s were extensions of families. They spent every big holiday together, ever since Y/N and Sophia were babies. Growing up to be best friends, then something more in high-school, it was safe to say the two were closer than they wished they were. It made falling in love easier; hence, it also made the heartbreak just a little harder.

Y/N remembered pacing around Sophia’s room, her chest tight and beads of tears spewing from her eyes as she watched the Filipina pack her suitcase.

“Sophia, please,” Y/N pleaded, “Just stay a little longer.”

Sophia shook her head, her lips pursed together. Her gaze fixed on piling her clothes neatly in the suitcase, refusing to meet the younger’s bloodshot eyes.

“My flight’s early, I don’t have time to stay.”

“I just—I just want you here with me for a little longer. Please, baby, I don’t want you to go.” Y/N begged. She lied, she did want Sophia to go, because it meant she would be taking this big step towards her dream. But the way she was acting like she didn’t mean anything really stung.

Sophia’s arms slumped, her head thrown back with a sigh.

She didn’t want to drag it out—the suffering. She wanted to rip this bandaid off as quick as possible because she knew Y/N would never recover otherwise.

“I think you need to go home,” Sophia said, “Now.”

Y/N’s lips pursed into a pout, her hands shaking and her glossed eyes glaring at Sophia. Even in her attempts to look resentful, like she absolutely hated Sophia for gutting her with such heartless comments, she couldn’t.

Sophia could still see the glaring signs of adoration. Of love.

But she wouldn’t budge, and Y/N left. Sophia would leave for two years, solidifying her place in Katseye, without saying goodbye. And after about a year, Sophia found herself thinking back on the way she’d left things whenever she was left alone wallowing in her thoughts in silence.

On Christmas Eve, Sophia’s hot breath fogged in the crisp December air as she stepped out of her car. The snow crunched beneath her boots, the familiar smell of pine and firewood kissing her senses. After two years away, everything still looked the same—her childhood home nestled at the end of cup-de-sac, the warm glow of Christmas lights and blow-up decorations twinkling in the windows and the roof.

And yet, everything felt different.

The last time Sophia stood here, her dreams had been too big for this little town. She’d rushed her best friend, her love then out the door and shut her out. She bid her a quick goodbye, but they both knew it was a goodbye that carried the weight of finality. Life at Dream Academy swallowed her whole, and she had the benefit of not having time to think about the state of heartbreak she had left Y/N in. The gruelling, seemingly endless rehearsals, competitions, and performances leaving little room for texts or calls with anybody.

Now, standing in the same driveway, she felt a pang of guilt. Y/N deserved more than the silence Sophia had given her.

The door swung open, and Sophia was greeted by her dad beaming back from the other side of the doorway. “Sophia, you made it!”

“Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.” She forced a smile, wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her into a tight hug. Inside, the chatter of familiar voices inside reached her ears, and she braced herself for the reunion she both longed for yet dreaded. “Sorry I’m late, traffic from the airport was horrible.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby, I’m just glad you made it. Come in, come in! Your mother’s just setting the table, but everybody else will be so happy to see you.”

The house was bustling, with the scent of cinnamon and roasted turkey filling the air. Sophia greeted family members, greeting the children of her aunts and uncles. Y/N’s dad was by the fireplace, sharing a laugh with her own. It was a tradition for their families to spend the holidays together, a bond forged over decades of friendship.

When he spot Sophia, he stood, his arms wide open.

“Oh, Sophia! It’s been a while. How are you, my dear?”

She was like a second daughter to him, but a huge surge of guilt swirled in her stomach when she saw just how happy he was to see her. It made her think about how heartbroken she had left Y/N. It also made her wonder if their parents knew about their relationships—how they ended things.

“I’m—I’m good. I’m glad to be back.” She smiled politely.

“It’s great to see you, Sophia. Really. Have you seen Y/N yet? She’ll absolutely go crazy when she sees you.”

Sophia pursed her lips together. “No, not yet.”

“Well, she should be just around here—!”

And then she saw her. Y/N stood near the kitchen, her smile as radiant as ever. But it wasn’t just her.

Sophia’s heart dropped.

Next to Y/N stood a guy, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. He was tall, with an easy charm and a laugh that seemed to fit perfectly into the room. He had defined features, shaggy dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. He looked like the boys Y/N used to date before Sophia, the picture perfect type of guy she knew Y/N’s parents wanted. Sophia’s chest tightened as she watched him lean in, whispering something that made Y/N’s cheeks flush.

From across the room, Y/N caught Sophia’s dumbstruck gaze. Her own eyes widened, taking in the majestic sight of the Filipina standing amidst her family again. In a way, she looked like she was back where she belonged, but somehow still managed to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Sophia,” Y/N gasped, breaking Sophia’s trance. She crossed the room with a wide smile, pulling her into a hug. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Sophia managed, her voice catching. Her arms hesitantly hooked around Y/N’s tinier frame, a hand sliding to give her a quick squeeze. She wanted to say more, to explain her silence, but the words stifled in her throat.

A cleared throat interrupted their moment.

Y/N stepped back, her hand slipping into the man’s behind her. His hand casually slid to palm her hip, tugging her towards him in a possessive manner. Sophia felt like gagging at the sight, but she somehow struggled to look away. “Sophia, this is Matt. My, uh… my boyfriend.”

Matt extended a hand, his grin warm and genuine. “Matt Sturniolo. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Sophia replied, her voice steady even as her stomach churned. All that training put into putting up an act for work seemed to be paying off.

“You’re… Godfrey’s daughter?” he asked, receiving a quick nod and tight-lipped smile from the Filipina. “How do you two know each other?”

Sophia eyed Y/N, not sure which explanation she wanted to say; “We used to date until I had to leave the country to chase my dream” or “I used to fuck your girlfriend behind the backs of guys like you.”

“Uh, well, Sophia and I grew up together. Uncle Godfrey and Dad are really close.” Y/N explained, a hand on Matt’s chest as the man nodded. “We were best friends.”

His fingers smoothed out the creases in her dress over her ass, clutching her close to him like a trophy.

Sophia wanted to punch his lights out.

“How have you been? How’s life in LA?” Y/N asked, her eyes holding Sophia’s gaze. Her face still held the same sincerity, the same kindness Sophia took advantage of two years ago.

The Filipina nodded, “Good. It’s going good so far.”

The younger smiled, her bottom lip tugging in between her teeth. “That’s nice to hear. Your folks missed you a lot. They have me over more just to have a voice around here.”

Speaking of her folks, her mother appeared in the doorway between the vast living room and the kitchen. When she spotted her daughter conversing with Y/N, she let out a loud sigh. Her arms waved above her head, jogging over to tackle the singer in a hug. Sophia laughed, hugging her mother as the older woman squealed in excitement.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, baby, you’re here! And you both are together again, ugh.” She clutched her heart, glancing between the two of them. “I’ve prayed for this day.” She kissed Sophia’s head, before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, sweetheart, will you please come help me with the cookies? I would ask Sophia, but y’know her, Ms. Clutz. I trust you around not things more than I do her.”

The Filipino clicked her tongue. “Rude.”

“And I see you’ve met Matt.” The man shot the mother a smile. She sighed, a hand squeezing Sophia’s arm. “Isn’t he just the most perfect boy you’ve ever met? I hope you find a boy just like him in the future, mahal.”

Nobody else seemed to notice, but Y/N caught the way Sophia’s guarded expression faltered just the slightest before that poker face of hers masked her true thoughts. She was never once to go against what her parents wanted, but what her parents wanted always seemed to be her getting married to a man and having grandchildren. Even then, Sophia knew the only person who truly understood her passion, the love she had for music and performing was Y/N.

But now she was too busy ogling Matt Sturniolo.

“Yes, of course, Mrs. L.” Her hand slid down from Matt’s chest, squeezing his hand briefly before she left with Sophia’s mother, arm laced around hers.

Awkward silence engulfed the two of them.

“So…” Matt began, “Heard you’re a pretty big star.”

Sophia hummed, shrugging. “Yeah, my bandmates and I work really hard. But there’s always room for improvement.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the Sturniolo nodded, “Look, I don’t want things to be weird, but I’ve heard about you and Y/N before you left and I just wanna say, she practically worships you.”

Sophia felt her heart begin racing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve only ever heard her talk about you once or twice, but… she loves you. A lot. You’re like the person she admires most.” Matt chuckled, “When we started dating, she had this notification on her phone to alert her whenever your band would put something new out. She stopped a couple months in, but she definitely still tries to keep up.”

Sophia hadn’t realized Y/N would know things about her and Katseye. It made her feel quite… exposed.

Yet, it felt freeing, to know somebody from her past cared.

And of all people, it made her feel guilty it was her.

“Really?” Sophia feigned happiness, “That’s… really sweet.”

“Anyway, you looking for a drink? There might be some beer or wine at the bar.”

Matt offered to go grab them some drinks, as if he was the host and she was the guest. It didn’t feel like her home anymore, watching the man work his way around her house, standing beside Y/N, hanging off her arm almost felt like he was replacing her in a way. Two years ago, she was in his place; she was the one pouring the greeting guests with drinks on Christmas eve, she was the one with her arm around Y/N, whispering things in her ear that made her laugh.

Now, it was all Matt Sturniolo this, Matt Sturniolo that.

Walking past the doorway to the kitchen, Sophia’s ears picked up on a familiar sound. A light, heavenly laughter that eased into the gentle crackling fire and faint Christmas jazz.

She saw her mother telling a story about some funny encounter she experienced that day, her hands focused on decorating the cookies on the tray. Beside her stood Y/N, in her element, a hand over her mouth as she tried containing that contagious laughter. One side of her hair tucked behind her ear, her eyes curved and soft and her smile grew.

She looked so beautiful. Fuck, how could somebody look so beautiful doing nothing?

Feeling her chest tighten, a tap on her shoulder shook her from her daze. Spinning on her heel, she was met with Matt holding up two bottles of beers.

“Woah, my bad. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sophia sighed, grabbing the bottle from his hand. “Hey, Matt, can I ask you a weird question?”

The man furrowed his eyebrows. “Shoot.”

“How long have you and Y/N been… dating?”

He pondered a moment. “Coming on two years, why?”

“And has Y/N ever told you about her exes or…?”

He shook his head. “Not really, no. It’s a touchy subject. I just know the last guy she dated absolutely shattered her.”

Sophia wondered if Y/N was telling people her ex was a man, or if she just never corrected what people automatically assumed of her. Whichever one, it soured her mood.

“How long has it been since you’ve talked to Y/N?”

The question caught Sophia off guard. “Hm?”

“You and Y/N. You’re supposed to be best friends, right? But you two seem a little… distant. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s not my place to say, but you guys don’t exactly give besties.”

For the rest of the evening, Sophia tried to focus on the conversations, the laughter, the shared stories of the past two years. But her eyes kept drifting to Y/N and Matt. The way he looked at her, the way she leaned into him—it was everything Sophia missed about her.

The evening wore on, and soon the house grew quieter.

It was easier to distract herself when she was bombarded with questions from relatives about her career. Eventually, Sophia stepped out onto the porch, the cold air biting her skin as she tried to clear her thoughts. She walked down the stairs to their backyard, taking a seat by their pool. She took her shoes off, dipping her feet into the lukewarm water.

“Thought you’d be out here.”

She turned to find Y/N standing behind her, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. The sheer long sleeve she was wearing definitely gave her no sense of warmth, especially not in the skirt she was wearing.

“Yeah,” Sophia mumbled, looking out at the snow-covered yard. “Just needed some air.”

Y/N reluctantly took a seat beside Sophia, who refused to look at her. She shook her Uggs off, feet sinking underwater as well.

“This is bringing me back,” Y/N chuckled, “To when we would just sit out here and we’d fall asleep after a late night dip.”

Sophia didn’t reply, just savouring the sound of her laugh. She didn’t realize just how much she missed hearing it until she heard it again. She don’t know what to say, she didn’t know if it would be appropriate for her to say anything.

“Did you miss me?” or “Do you hate me?”; no, “I’m sorry.”

Instead, Sophia opted for a passive statement. Her ego shielding her from seeing her true attitude.

“That boyfriend of yours seems nice.”

Y/N cradled herself, her hands slowing at rubbing her arms for warmth. Her gaze fixed on the Christmas lights dangling from the roof. It had been the second time tonight she’s left Matt to fend for himself in a room full of people he didn’t know. If they were anywhere else, she would feel bad; but, sitting here, just feeling Sophia’s presence after such a long time, Matt seemed to be the last place her mind was hung on.

“Yeah. He’s a sweet guy.”

Sophia rolled her eyes at the soft edge in Y/N’s voice.

The muffled sounds of the dinner party inside drowned in the sounds of their feet swishing water around.

“Hm, he looks exactly like the assholes you used to date,” the Filipina snarkily remarked, “Just your type.”

There she was, the mean Sophia that left and didn’t look back.

“He treats me well. And he loves me.”

“Yeah? Bet he loves sticking his dick in you more.”

Y/N’s shoulders stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sophia leaned back on her hands, a sardonic smile playing on her lips. “Come on, Y/N. You really don’t see it? He’s so… basic. Does he even know what you like? How to turn you on—?”

“That’s enough, Sophia.” Y/N’s voice wavered, but her eyes stayed steady.

Sophia leaned forward, her expression softening for a moment. “I’m just saying… it doesn’t seem like he’s what you need. Your taste got better, but now it just kinda plummeted again.”

Y/N stood abruptly, water flicking at Sophia as she grappled at her shoes. “Y’know what? I’m glad to see fame hasn’t changed that nasty attitude of yours. I was trying to be nice, put it all behind me because I missed you and I wanted to at least be friends again, but clearly I was wrong to think you would’ve matured at least the tiniest bit.” She shook her head, scoffing. “You don’t get to sit there and insult someone you don’t even know.” Her voice shook with anger. “Matt’s nothing like the guys I used to date, and he’s certainly nothing like you. He was the one there for me when you weren’t.”

Sophia blinked, her cool demeanor slipping. “When I wasn’t?”

“Yes, when you weren’t.” Y/N’s voice cracked as she stared down at Sophia, the memories bubbling to the surface. “When you fucking just—tossed me aside when you had a chance at your career, your dreams. And then you didn’t even have the decency to give me a reason why you were being such a jerk about it. I tried calling so many times after you left, I stay up late at night just thinking about you, crying myself to sleep. So no, you don’t get to waltz back into my life, insult Matt, and act like you know me. You don’t know me anymore.”

Sophia’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering with guilt and something deeper. Her own feet pulled out the pool as she propped herself up. “Y/N, I—”

“No.” Y/N’s stammered, still shivering from the cold. “I’ve given so much of my time and myself to you and your stupid fucking games. This—” she gestured to Sophia, her tone full of frustration— “this is exactly why I stopped trying to call you. Why I decided I needed to move on.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and unbearable.

Watching the way Y/N shook, Sophia wasn’t sure whether she was shivering from the cold or from the sheer force of finally letting her emotions loose. The younger woman had never been one to argue, never been one to confront. She was always Sophia’s obedient little plaything, just the way she liked it. But seeing her like this, standing her ground, staring the monster terrorizing her life—her every breath and thought—straight in the eye was so… comforting.

She had grown, something Sophia should have done.

Shrugging her jacket off, the Filipina draped it over Y/N’s shoulders, despite the younger’s groans of protest.

“Is that what you call this?” she asked, stepping closer. Her voice was low, almost trembling. “Being with someone so... safe, so easy? Someone your parents want as an in-law?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Sophia came closer, the familiar scent of her perfume making her heart ache.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sophia was inches away now, her gaze searching Y/N’s face. “Don’t I?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before Y/N could respond, Sophia’s hand brushed against her cheek, tentative but electrifying. “You’re lying to yourself,” she said softly. “And maybe I deserve all of this—the anger, the blame. But don’t pretend he makes you feel the way I do.”

“Don’t.” Y/N whimpered, her tone less convincing than the way her body language was giving her away.

Instinctively, she needed to draw Sophia close, her body leaning towards the magnetic pull from the Filipina’s hands.

“He’s a fucking cuck and you know it.”

“I love him.” Y/N muttered.

“And I love you,” Sophia whispered back, leaning in to gently press her lips against Y/N’s, the kiss igniting every suppressed feeling she’d buried. It was reckless, infuriating, and utterly terrifying impossible to resist.

Y/N moaned against her glossed lips. Her own hands fighting Sophia’s off before they reached any further up her skirt. “Sophia, somebody will see.”

“Meet me upstairs then.” Sophia stole a quick kiss again, “Where nobody can see.”

The Filipina securely fastened her coat over the shorter’s shoulders, her hot breath thawing Y/N’s cool cheeks. She leant down slow, torturously pecking the corner of her lips, before glancing up at the woman’s eyes, then down again.

“Don’t make me wait.”

When Y/N stepped back into the house a couple minutes after Sophia did, she was immediately approached by Matt, who had a beer bottle clutched in his hand.

“Hey, there you are. I’ve had to listen to your uncle talk about drag racing the past twenty minutes.” He snorted, “Woah, your cheeks are all pink… is that Sophia’s jacket?”

Y/N felt bad, lying to him.

Deep down, she knew she still had very intense feelings for Sophia. The same feeling she felt when Sophia left her, when Sophia told her to leave her house like she was some stranger, when Sophia was all smiles and super happy in every photo taken of her after she had successfully debuted as Katseye’s leader. Somehow, despite Matt being the safe and better option, she would rather be used, be drained dry of whatever she had to give and discarded than be with him if it meant she got to feel what it was like to be Sophia’s girl again.

“Yeah, yeah, I, uh—I’m not feeling very well.”

“Oh. Do you wanna go home? I’ll get the car.”

“No! No, it’s okay. I just need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

Y/N smiled gratefully, feeling the man’s hand rub her arm soothingly. She gently brushed him off, giving him one last look before heading towards the stairs.

There was no turning back now.

Quietly, she crept upstairs, walking past the hung portraits of Sophia and her family, some of which Y/N appeared in.

When she finally got to the door with a customized plaque with sticker letters spelling out “Sophia”, she knocked softly. Nearly immediately, the door flung open and she was yanked in. The door slammed shut behind her, and she was thrusted against the surface. The sound reverberated in the small space. It was dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner, casting shadows on the walls lined with posters and old photos of the two of them.

Y/N barely had time to take it all in before Sophia’s lips were on hers again, desperate and full of unspoken apologies. Her body pushed Y/N’s against the door, the younger’s hands threading into her hair as if she were afraid she might disappear again.

“You drive me insane,” Sophia murmured against her lips, her voice low and rough. Her hands slid down Y/N’s sides, gripping her hips like she was anchoring herself. “I’ve missed this.”

“Sophia,” Y/N interrupted, her breath hitching as Sophia’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Sophia pulled back just enough to meet Y/N’s gaze, her dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded.

“Okay,” she whispered, her eyes dark. “Let’s see if you’re saying the same thing after I fuck you senseless.”

Y/N’s felt heat pool straight down to between her legs. She couldn’t stop herself from pulling Sophia closer, her fingers tangling in the loose fabric of her shirt. “You’re such a fucking prick,” she whispered, the words a mixture of accusation and longing. “Still just as cocky.”

“You love it,” Sophia said again, her lips trailing wet kisses down her neck. “Y’know you love me.”

Something in her tone shattered Y/N’s remaining defenses. She pulled Sophia into another kiss, this one fiercer, fueled by a newfound hunger she had to engulf her senses in Sophia. They stumbled toward the bed, their limbs entangled. Sophia’s hands were everywhere, sliding under Y/N’s shirt and hiking her skirt up higher until the band of her black lace showed. Y/N gasped as Sophia’s lips found the sensitive spot below her ear, her knees buckling as they fell onto the mattress together.

Clothes were discarded in a frenzy, the space between them disappearing as if it had never existed. Sophia’s touch was both familiar and foreign, reigniting sensations Y/N had tried to forget. Every kiss, every caress, felt like a plea for forgiveness—a desperate attempt to make up for all the time they’d lost.

Y/N arched into Sophia’s touch, her breaths coming in short, shaky gasps as Sophia’s lips moved lower, exploring every inch of skin like she was memorizing it. The heat between them was almost unbearable, the air thick with the scent of desire and the faint perfume Sophia always wore.

“Sophia,” Y/N moaned, her fingers gripping the sheets as Sophia’s mouth worked its way down her body.

Sophia’s lips hovered just above Y/N’s skin. She looked up, her gaze locking with Y/N’s. “Eyes on me, baby,” she whispered, her voice sending vibrations straight through Y/N. “I wanna see that pretty face when you cum”

Y/N eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back as she breathily gasped at Sophia’s tongue hitting just the right spot. “I hate you for leaving,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Fuck, I hate you so much.”

The confession broke something in Sophia, and she surged forward, eating Y/N out with a desperation that felt like it could consume them both. Her hands locked into Y/N’s thighs with her legs thrown over her shoulders. When the younger’s breath grew erratic, she knew she was close. And with a pitched gasp, Sophia’s tongue lapped up whatever had gushed from Y/N.

For a couple minutes, they just laid side by side on Sophia’s bed, catching their breaths before Y/N propped herself up, picking up her discarded clothing off the floor.

She slipped them on, back facing a confused Sophia who watched her movements with a tilted head.

“Heading back downstairs,” Y/N stated flatly, “Matt’s probably waiting for me to head home.”

Sophia scoffed, “Are you fucking serious? I just had you cumming on my tongue and you’re going back down to him?”

“Yes, Sophia.” Y/N’s eyes shut, sighing. “Maybe now you’ll know what it feels like to watch someone leave without a goodbye.” She flung the door open to the bustling liveliness of festivities downstairs, disappearing down the hall.

Sophia lied in her bed, a hand through her hair. She scoffed.

If it’s a game Y/N wants to play, it’s a game she’ll play.

[ihfmseatsoch]

hi erm do you take requests. and if so can I pretty please get a masc reader raping Jimmy after finding out what happened to Anya fic (I want to tear this disgusting man’s ass up so bad it makes me look stupid)

OHH my gosh anon i understand you so deeply. rape that mans ass to shreds!!!!!!! i hope this is alright :3

–

Jimmy Zare x masc!reader

reader refers to themself as a guy and has a dick

genre: smut, dark fic

word count: 2.8k

warnings/content: rape, you shot jimmy in the legs lol, several mentions of anyas sexual assault, no prep, loss of virginity, (on jimmys end) (literally) hate sex, rough sex, jimmys a little crybaby, death threats

–

"Are you scared, Jim?"

You crouch to ground level with the man– no, calling him a man would imply that he has some sort of humanity left in him. The monster in front of you, both of his kneecaps wounded by the bullets you shot with your own hands, glares at you with pure vitriol.

You've actually tried pretty hard to stay in your new captains good graces these past couple months. Of course, it was only for the sake of self preservation. Who would willingly befriend such an arrogant, self-centered, pessimistic asshole like Jimmy? Besides Curly, for whatever reason.

But it wasn't until Anya, at her wits end and on the verge of yet another mental break, confided in you about her pregnancy, and her assailant; none other than Jimmy fucking Zare.

You couldn't say you were surprised that he lacked basic morality. Maybe morality can no longer apply to the situation you're all stuck in, all of you just trying to survive at whatever cost. Every man for himself, right?

Even so, monsters deserve to be punished. And luckily, Jimmy is still alive to feel whatever you force him to take. Whether it be the insults you hurl at him, or physical torture; like the bullets embedded deep in his muscles, immobilizing him, his autonomy ripped away.

"It doesn't feel good, does it? Not having the option to worm your way out of the mess you've made."

Jimmy gives you he most contemptuous, disgusted look, like you're the evil one here. He let out a frustrated growl, his voice was low and venomous. "You think you're so fuckin', righteous, huh? Acting like you're any better than me." His lips curl downwards in a sneer.

You may not be any more of a good person than he is. You've stooped to his level, after all, resorting to violence. But as the saying goes, you reap what you sow, and Jimmy has yet to pay for anything he's done. All the pain and trauma he's caused, not just to Anya, but dozens of poor women back on Earth. Men like him always get what's coming to them.

"This isn't a morality competition, Jim. We're all only human here. But you..."

Leaning in, you grip his boney jaw, forcing him to look at you, your eyes boring into his. He's terrified, you can tell.

"Honestly, you're less than dog shit."

It was clearly infuriating to him that he didn't have the ability to physically intimidate or overpower you. For once in his life, Jimmy's bravado had been shattered. He was unable to move away, to spit back his usual insults, as he was forced to stare into your cols eyes. You had the upper hand, and he hated it.

He hated being in the same position as the many others he's forced into.

His body tensed with anger as he tried to wrench his jaw out of your grasp, but your fingers dug too harshly into his skin. "Get... Get your goddamn hands off me, you... you–"

"You didn't listen to Anya when she begged you for the same thing. Isn't it ironic, the way karma works?"

The mention of Anya seemed to hit a nerve within him, his blood running cold, frigid through his veins. "I told her to keep her stupid mouth shu– fuck!–" A stabbing pain shot through his legs, causing his face to contort in agony.

Despite the pain and the fear welling up within him, he forced himself to speak through clenched teeth. "Shut... Shut the fuck up. Stop talking like you– like you know anything."

"I know enough. So does Swansea. Curly too, for what it's worth. Even if the useless fucker didn't do anything to reprimand you." You shove Jimmy onto his back, his head hitting the cold steel floor with a dull thud, hard enough to make him woozy for a moment. You can't find any empathy inside of you to care. As far as you're concerned, the creature in front of you isn't a person.

Clicking your tongue at the sight of him, you crawl over to his pathetic, writhing body, hovering above him. "Guess it's up to me to give you what's been comin' to you for a long fucking time, huh?"

Jimmy hissed in pain and tried, in vain, to scoot himself away, but his wounded legs refused to move, and he found himself trapped between you and the floor. For the first time in his life, he was in the position of a powerless victim.

His voice comes out embarrassingly strained and weak, "What're you gonna do, then? Kill me? You think that's the worst thing you could do to me? I've been ready to die. You'd be doin' me a fuckin' favor."

You dig your knee into his groin, putting a painful amount of weight onto him, a sharp cry escaping his lungs. "No. You don't deserve to die, that'd just give you a way out." Your hand reaches up to his neck, squeezing his windpipe just enough to make him struggle to breathe.

"I'm keeping you alive so you can feel every single thing I do to you."

Jimmy clawed uselessly at your hand, frantically trying to pry it away from his throat, the only thing he could manage to do with his legs unable to kick or thrash. "S– Stop–! Ghhkk– Don't–"

"You still think you deserve mercy? That's cute, Jim."

You roughly yank the buttons of his coveralls out of their loops, tearing away the first layer of protection he had between you and him. Not that the uniforms Pony Express gave you acted as a safeguard in the first place.

Jimmy feels exposed, vulnerable in a way he's never experienced before. Suddenly, he's very aware of the fact that he's at your mercy, and he can't do anything to stop you. Fear began to creep in, and he started to hyperventilate, panicked and desperate as he choked out a reply,

"I– I said s– stop, you fucking– I swear, when I can walk again, I'll–" He sputters, his sentence coming out broken and raspy from the pressure on his neck. You let go, only so you can focus on getting him undressed. He intakes a large gasp of air, coughing hoarsely.

"You'll what? What're you gonna do, Jimmy?" You mock him, keeping your tone extra condescending just to rub the humiliation in even more. "I'll tell you how this is gonna go; you're not walking for a good, long while. That's just reality, so get used to it."

You tug at his clothes until, albeit with a lot of struggle and fighting against Jimmy's flailing, his uniform is bunched around his ankles, leaving him in his grey long sleeve and underwear.

"And, while you're incapacitated– You grunt as you tug his boots off, throwing them carelessly aside to make it easier to slip the garment completely off his body.

"I think you can guess what's gonna happen to you."

Jimmy's face pales as the realization of what you plan on doing fully dawns on him. His heart drops to the pit of his stomach, dread sinking into his gut. He can't escape this. "Wait, h– hold on, you can't– We... We can talk this through, just– get off of me–"

"I'm guessing you've never been with a guy before, huh? Nah, you're too... 'macho' for that." You flip him over, a sharp, throbbing pain rushing through his knees as he's forced to put pressure on his wounds to prop himself up. "Might as well give you your first experience before we all die here, yeah?"

Jimmy tries to scramble away from you, but his wounded legs barely move an inch. He cries out in agony, his eyes welling up with tears from the excruciating pain in his joints. He looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes wide, filled with fear.

"No, Wait, stop–! Don't– You can't do this, please, I–" He tried to keep his voice hard and defiant, but terror had seeped into it, causing his words to quiver and falter.

"Oh, I can't, but you can?" You scoff at his ability to still be a raging hypocrite, even in the position he's in. "You think the world bends to your fuckin' will, don't you? Curly sure did. Maybe that's what makes you feel so entitled. You were enabled."

With a swift tug, his fabric is pulled down just enough to expose his ass to you. "Not anymore. Never again."

Jimmy's pride, the only thing he had left, had begun to crumble beneath him.

He's scared.

He prayed for someone, anyone, to intervene in the situation. But the cargo hold was empty, devoid of any soul besides you two. Jimmy choked back a sob, his vision growing blurry with tears. His voice was strained as he pleaded, "P– Please, d– don't do this. I'm... I'm sorry–"

Completely ignoring his incessant pleas at this point, you carelessly fondle his ass, roughly handling what little amount of fat his had on his bones. "Oh, I'm sure." You mumble, your sarcasm audible.

Spreading his cheeks apart, you make a 'tsk' sound at the sight of his tight, untouched virgin asshole. "Sheesh, that's gonna be a tight fit." You speak your thoughts aloud, just to make his face burn redder with utter humiliation. He could vomit right now.

"I swear, I'm gonna fucking kill you." He snarls, voice breaking with the emphasis he put on the word 'kill', his teary eyed glare full of unadulterated disdain and loathing for you. "I'll find a way. I'll find a way to blow your fucking brains out."

He can't even move, and yet he's still trying to get the upper hand, as if he's some kind of cornered dog, snarling and snapping at your heels in defiance to the very end.

"Mhm." You don't take him seriously, knowing that without serious medical attention, which Anya obviously won't be providing, he's essentially screwed, for a lack of a proper description of his situation. You palm your semi-hard dick, stroking the outline of your length through the fabric. You hate this man, you really do, but you can't deny the excitement you feel from giving someone like him a taste of his own medicine.

You can't tell yourself it won't be satisfying to make him feel everything Anya felt, because it will. It will be the most gratifying thing you ever do.

You gather up a wad of spit in your mouth before spitting on his hole, saliva being only available lubricant. It may not be the best, but he doesn't deserve the comfort a proper lube would give him anyway. He physically cringes at the feeling.

"I'm not gonna bother prepping you. That'd be too nice." You considered not even warning him of this, but you liked seeing him scared. You liked seeing the way his breathing picked up in panic, his heart rate bordering on tachycardia.

"Fuck you," he spat with the hostility of a rabid dog. "You're gonna regret this. I won't let you–"

Jimmy's empty threats are interrupted when he feels the head of your dick prodding at his hole, and you chuckle lowly at his shudder. "Shhh. All you've gotta worry about from now on is getting me off."

Before he can even think, you're already pushing yourself inside him. The sting is unlike any kind of pain he's ever felt, even compared to his current wounds, which have actually gone half numb from the sheer amount of pain they're in. Jimmy cries out a broken wail, gritting his teeth, his tears pooling onto the floor as he squeezes his eyes shut.

You groan as you struggle to fit inside him even halfway, spitting on his hole again for good measure. "Hah– holy shit, Jim. I can already tell you won't be a half bad fleshlight for me."

Jimmy trembles from the utter discomfort he feels from the unwelcome penetration. He wants to scream, but all that comes out is pathetic, choked sobs, his cheek laying in a puddle of his own tears. "Fuck you, fuck you..." He snivels, blubbering.

You hardly even acknowledge him as he weeps, managing to jam yourself halfway inside him, his walls clenching like a vice around your shaft. "God, you're probably tighter than a girl." You laugh, your palm coming down harshly on his ass, just so you can watch him jolt. You snake a hand around his torso to grab his cock, noticing it's flaccidity. "Damn, you're not even hard," You comment without much sympathy, simply verbalizing your observation, "Not that I care, but it'd be funny if you got off on this too."

Jimmy, unable to recoil out of your grasp, can only cringe harder than he ever has. "You're sick," he hissed, "I'll tell everyone, you can't get away with–"

"You really think any of them will feel bad for you?" You roll your eyes in annoyance, growing tired of how irksome he is. "Jeez, I wish I could gag you with something. You're the most concieted egomaniac–" You grunt as you snap your hips against his, your dick shoved to the hilt inside him, "–That I have ever met."

Jimmy ceases his griping for once, laying there like a defenseless ragdoll. What else can he do? He's short of options, a plan, support... he has nothing. Nothing and no one will save him this time. The inside of his hole aches excruciatingly, agony washing over his entire body, his neck is cricked to the side, irritating the muscle which is sure to be unbearably tender later. A lasting reminder of how weak he really is.

His hole loosens to take your cock as you thrust with an impetuous rhythm, hearing him whine at every brutish snap of your hips. The way his slick walls drag along your shaft makes you feel a fervid sense of carnality, knowing you've reduced him to a mere object. A receptacle. "Fuck, I didn't think you'd feel this good. That's something you've got going for you." You utter throatily, groping his hips to pull him back and forth on your dick.

He wants to die. He wishes you would've just killed him and threw his bloated corpse out of the airlock, never to be seen again in the vast outskirts of space. Shit, he would've been fine with you just abandoning him to rot in here alone. But he hasn't earned your mercy, or anyone's. Jimmy feels every inch of your cock violating and slamming carelessly deep inside him

"I hope this hurts." You confirm scornfully that yes, you're aware he's in pain, and you're very pleased with yourself. "This is exactly what she felt, and this is exactly what you deserve."

Jimmy silently prays to a god he's never believed in to make you stop, or just cum already and be done with him. "Ple–ease...–" he finds himself mewling miserably, running out of both the tears, and strength to cry. He finds himself completely detaching from reality, clinging onto the hope that this will be over soon. If he can live through this, he'll be okay. His dissociative, quiet state makes it all the more easy for you to ignore his humanity.

You feel the familiar buildup of warmth stirring in your gut, balls tightening annoyingly soon. You wanted to prolong his suffering, but you've been just as pent up as anyone else would be during an 8+ month long haul. The difference between you and Jimmy was that you could hold back and not give into your own selfish desires.

Another difference between you two is that you can get away with this, not suffering from any ramifications. But him? If you're all miraculously saved from this hell you're trapped in, he won't be exempt from the consequences of his actions. The other, less favourable outcome being the ship runs out of oxygen and food, and you're all forced to die slowly, but the one positive aspect is that Jimmy still wouldn't be getting out scott free. In every way, he lost.

With a drawn out growl, you fill him to the brim with warm, thick ropes of cum. When you catch your breath and pull out, you watch the sticky, white substance seep from his gaping hole. It drips down his shaking thighs, which collapse under him, and he falls to his side, curled up in a piteous ball, hugging himself tightly and hiding his face as he tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his ass and imagine himself somewhere else. Though, he doesn't exactly know where to escape to. He's never had a 'happy place', so to speak.

Picking yourself up off the ground and brushing yourself off, you tut at the comical display of cowardice in front of you. You kick his quivering body in the ribcage for good measure as you tuck yourself back into your uniform.

"See you next time, Captain." You sneer, speaking to him with shocking casualness, leaving the cargo hold without a second glance back at him.

The words "next time" replay tauntingly in his head as he lay there, paralyzed with terror.

–

[multifandomfix]

Rhaenys Targaryen Yandere Alphabet

A = Attachment (How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?)

Rhaenys’s love is fiery and all consuming. She showers you with affection but demands the same in return. Her intensity can border on obsession, making her feel entitled to your undivided attention and love.

B = Blood (How messy are they willing to get when it comes to you?)

Rhaenys is no stranger to bloodshed and would not hesitate to spill it if anyone dared to hurt or steal you away. She sees violence as a justified act to protect what’s hers.

C = Clingy (Do they require your attention at all times? How do they act when you ignore them?)

While Rhaenys has a commanding presence, her need for your attention is relentless. If you ignore her, expect sharp words, possessive grabs, or even physical restraint to pull you back into her orbit.

D = Dependent (Are they codependent? Do they want you to rely solely on them for your care/protection?)

She wants you to need her as much as she needs you. Rhaenys ensures you rely on her for safety, comfort, and even freedom, crafting an environment where she is your only sanctuary.

E = Excess (Would they spoil or pamper you? To what extent?)

Rhaenys spoils you with lavish gifts, extravagant feasts, and dragon rides. But this generosity has strings attached, she expects gratitude and unwavering devotion.

F = Fatal (Would they kill you? Kill for you?)

Rhaenys would kill without hesitation to keep you safe or to eliminate competition. If you ever tried to leave her, she might convince herself that no one else deserves you, even if that means ending your life.

G = Give Up (What are they willing to sacrifice for you?)

She would sacrifice her position, wealth, and even alliances to keep you by her side. However, she would never sacrifice her control over you.

H = Harsh (How do they take to you mouthing off to them or saying something they don’t want to hear?)

Rhaenys doesn’t take defiance lightly. If you mouth off, she punishes you verbally and emotionally, but she always softens afterward, offering apologies that barely mask her possessive nature.

I = Inseparable (What are they like when you’re not with them? Do they check in on you constantly, or feel lost without you?)

When you’re apart, Rhaenys is restless and constantly seeks ways to stay connected, letters, spies, or even tracking your movements with dragons. Separation leaves her anxious and volatile.

J = Jilted (How do they act when met with rejection from you?)

Rejection ignites her rage and desperation. She may initially beg and plead, but if that fails, her demeanor hardens, and she becomes ruthless in ensuring you never leave her side again.

K = Kidnap (Would they ever abduct you just to have you to themselves for a while?)

Absolutely. Rhaenys would see it as “rescuing” you from danger, even if that danger is your own desire for independence. She’ll cage you in luxury, convinced it’s for your own good.

L = Lines (Do they cross lines with you? What ones? Is it something they know they’re doing?)

Rhaenys crosses lines constantly, emotional manipulation, physical restraint, and invasion of privacy are all fair game to her. She’s aware but believes her actions are justified by her love.

M = Manipulation (Would they manipulate you? How? And would you realize that’s what was happening?)

She uses her charm, status, and intelligence to keep you compliant. From sweet words to veiled threats, Rhaenys is skilled at bending your will without you realizing it.

N = Naive (Do they like you pliant or do they prefer you to challenge them?)

Rhaenys appreciates your fire and spirit but prefers you to submit to her in the end. She enjoys the chase and challenge, but she ultimately expects obedience.

O = Ownership (Do they feel possessive of you? How do they act when you’re around others?)

Possessiveness defines Rhaenys. She despises anyone who gets too close to you, often issuing veiled threats or outright commands to keep them away.

P = Petulant (Are they moody? Easy to anger? Or are they patient and forgiving around you?)

While outwardly composed, Rhaenys has a short temper when it comes to you. She’s quick to anger but just as quick to smooth things over with grand gestures.

Q = Quit (Would they quit any of their behaviors for you if you asked?)

Rhaenys might promise to change, but it would only be a ruse to gain more control. True reform is unlikely; her obsession runs too deep.

R = Rules (Would they have rules for you? Brainwash you? Teach you the right way to be theirs?)

Yes, Rhaenys imposes strict rules. Where you go, who you see, what you wear. She rationalizes it as protecting you, but it’s about maintaining dominance.

S = Stalker (Would they stalk you? How far would it go?)

She stalks you openly, watching from afar or sending spies to monitor your movements. Privacy is a foreign concept when it comes to her love.

T = Target (What do they wish to do to you? How twisted are their ideals?)

Rhaenys’s ideal relationship is one of utter devotion. She wants you to adore her as much as she adores you, even if she has to break you to achieve it.

U = Utopia (How much effort do they put into making you happy?)

Rhaenys spares no effort in making you happy with lavish gifts, trips, and displays of power all serve to create a dreamlike existence where you feel indebted to her.

V = Violence (Would they ever be violent with you?)

Rhaenys might lash out in moments of intense passion or rage, but she’s more likely to hurt others than you. However, she isn’t above a physical show of dominance to remind you who’s in charge.

W = Will (Would they ever do anything against your will?)

She has no qualms about overriding your wishes. Rhaenys believes she knows what’s best for you and will make decisions on your behalf, no matter how much you protest.

X = Xoanon (Would they revere or worship you? To what length would they go to win you over?)

Rhaenys worships you in a way that’s both flattering and terrifying. She places you on a pedestal, but one that leaves you isolated and completely dependent on her.

Y = Yowl (Do they ever make you cry? Do they enjoy your tears?)

She may intentionally push you to tears to elicit guilt or compliance, but she’s also quick to comfort you, claiming only she can soothe your pain.

Z = Zenith (Would they ever break you just so you’d stay with them?)

Breaking you might be Rhaenys’s ultimate goal if it means ensuring you’ll never leave. She’ll destroy you emotionally if it means forging a bond that can’t be severed.

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @trexsuit, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Rhaenys Targaryen: @thekirbishow, @astrogrande

[onepiece-polls]

What if best hat Poll?

Sorry for answering so late, I had to leave for work yesterday when I read this. There are a lot of hats in One Piece, so I had to make choices. Sorry if your fave didn't make it 😅 I decided to go with hats only, not other things that might go on your head (like hoods, bandanas, helmets, etc), because there are already too many of them. (Sorry Wire, babe, your headwear is the coolest but it's not a hat)

[pastelaspirations]

Controversial opinion; Error should have lost because the bit of him coming 2nd place for three freaking years in a row would have been comedy gold.

O h w e e e l l, I love you, Error. Congrats on finally winning, ya handsome lad. I drew a crap post comic where Ink expresses the same sentiment that I do lmao

Transcript just in case my handwriting is awful to read

Error: FINALLY, people see my ✧˖°.greatness.°˖✧ Ink: Yay! I'm so happy for you! <3 Ink: Although... I was kind of hoping you'd lose- Error: WHAT?! Ink: Just- It would have been really funny if you came 2nd place 3 years in a row, wouldn't it? Error: .... Error: You're dead to me Ink: I'm sorry! I just thought it'd be funny-

[calamitoustide]

"am i too late?"

I gotta be so honest I forgot about the prompt list and was very confused for a second 😭😭 but I remembered! and had an idea so I thought I would just write it now

speak now - jegulus - microfic - 1k

Regulus wasn’t even going to go. He was invited, of course, James said he really wanted him there, but he didn’t beg when Regulus said he’d be busy. He wasn’t busy. In fact, his only plans for the day were to sit in his apartment rotting away in bed while constantly refreshing his Instagram to see all the pictures of the party streaming in. He’d see her in her perfect dress and perfect hair. He’d see James lovingly gazing into her eyes, beautiful with the ocean behind him. It had to be a beach wedding. Of course, it had to be. James always had his thing with the ocean. He’d drag Regulus there every single summer to his family's place. Well, every single year until she came along and then Regulus wasn’t as inclined to go. 

Regulus was still James’ best friend, but Lily Evans was… well his everything else. His girlfriend, his fiancé, the love of his life. Now she can  add bride and wife to that list of terms. 

Regulus isn’t at all upset over this. James chose his life. He had his choices and Regulus wasn’t even an option, and that’s fine. He’ll still be apart of his life. He’ll watch his home from the outside, peering into windows and occasionally being invited in for family dinners in a family he’ll never truly be apart of. He’ll be uncle Regulus and nothing more. The guy who comes around occasionally. So no, he wasn’t going to go to the wedding of all things. He doesn’t think he could handle it. He can’t watch the life he wanted go up in flames because he was too stupid to say something. He didn’t say a word and now James is going to be happily married, or well… he wasn’t going to go. 

That was before Sirius called him drunk the night before. It’s a destination wedding, and they all went out the night before as a pre-celebration or whatever you’d call it. It was clear that Sirius had too much to drink, especially when he kept spouting on about how this was Regulus’ last chance. Apparently he had enough of Regulus’ pining and his inability to actually talk about his feelings. He kept going on and on about how Regulus was obsessed with James since he was small. From the moment James walked up to him grabbed his hand and said they’d be best friends forever he’s had Regulus. Even if they were young. Even if Regulus knew nothing of what love meant, he was spoken for. James was it. There was no other light. No other love. He handed over his heart that day and he’s never even asked for it back. Sirius never mentioned it, or at least not since Lily came into the picture. Regulus isn’t sure what made him last night. He’s also not sure what made him buy a last minute plane ticket to Greece of all places. 

He’s late by the time he gets there, and when he’s in the first car he could get traffic is blocked up too far, like an idiot he runs all the way to the venue. He’s sweaty and out of breath by the time he makes it there. He’s definitely not dressed for a wedding he looks awful and his clothes are all wrinkled from the flight but none of it matters. He makes it to the beach. He finds the arch just in front of the beautiful waves, but there’s not a single guest to be seen. It’s vacant. Nothing but the sand and ocean water. 

“Am I too late?” He mumbles, more to himself more than to anyone. After all this time of running behind it really shouldn’t a surprise that when he finally got it together he was too late. He’s always too late but the ache in his heart is the same, like a slice through his liver, and cracks in his ribs. 

“Depends on what you’re here for.�� 

Regulus eyes widen as he turns around, to find James behind him on the stairs. Still in his suit, beautiful coated with the colors of the setting sun. “You’re still here.” 

James shrugs, “Had no where else to go,” he says, walking passed him to the sea to stand under the arch. He picks off flowers from the sides of it, watching as the petals fall to the sand, “I couldn’t go through with it.” 

“Oh?” 

James smiles sadly, looking down to the ground as he says, “I thought…” he shakes his head, “When you said you couldn’t make it for a second I was relived, you know,” he says, “I thought I could actually go through with it as long as you weren’t here too. As long as I didn’t see you.” He looks up finding Regulus�� eyes through the aisle, “Without you though it was just so much clearer what I was missing I couldn’t—I couldn’t go through with it.” 

“James…” 

“I understand,” James says quickly, “If you don’t feel the same way. If this is completely out the blue I just—I didn’t love her like I should and it has to be right. It has to be right and I tried to make myself believe that it was but I—“ 

Before James can finish rambling Regulus is already down the aisle and grabbing the front of his shirt bringing him down. Regulus really hates the cliche but deep down it feels like he’s a teenager kissing James now, back when they should’ve figured this out. They were so fucking stupid, and while kissing James, Regulus swears he can feel sparks fly against them; it’s a firework show. 

James pulls away, a smile tugging at his lips, “Oh.” 

“Oh,” Regulus giggles, he fucking giggles, like he’s thirteen or something. He’d be embarrassed if it was anyone but James. Hell, James is giggling too. 

That is until James takes a pause and questions slowly, “Wait, did you come here to break up my wedding?” 

Regulus opens his mouth but no words come out, truly there’s nothing to be said. No defense he can take. So he rolls his eyes instead, tugging James down again, “Shut up.” 

[bbcphile]

Today, I’m crying about Li Xiangyi’s childhood, the way it taught him that losing meant he didn’t deserve to exist, and how that governed his response to the East Sea battle ten years earlier and to all the revelations at the end of the show.

Li Xiangyi obviously loves his shifu and shiniang, and they definitely loved him, too, given that his shifu wanted him to focus more on enjoying life and less on changing the world and obtaining victories, and given that his shifu sacrificed himself to try to save Xiangyi and his shiniang wanted to. So, his childhood with them definitely had more love, support, stability, and learning opportunities than his earlier life, which features such traumas as seeing his mom murdered in front of him, living on the streets starting at age 4, watching his older brother die in front of him and then forgetting his older brother existed, probably from traumatic amnesia/dissociation. That being said, though, his shiniang and shifu made some truly horrific decisions that caused some epic problems for both Li Xiangyi and Shan Gudao! It’s not just that they withheld incredibly important knowledge about Xiangyi’s early life and background from him (who his parents were, why they were murdered, that he had an older brother, the secret of his heritage)--although wow, that is a terrible way to raise a traumatized child–it’s also that they fostered competition instead of caring, both with the children they raised and between each other. I’m thinking in particular of the fact that, once shiniang and shifu separated, they each took a child (based on drawing lots) and had Xiangyi and Shan Gudao fight once a month to determine not just which kid was the better martial artist, but which adult was a better teacher, and, by extension, parent and person! 

That last thing is just so infuriating and, frankly, abusive: it makes each kid think competition and winning is how affection is earned, and that any sort of mistake or loss or failure is the absolute end of the world, because you’re never just letting yourself down or not reaching your potential: you are proving that you don’t deserve their care and affection. It also taught Xiangyi that he was responsible for their caregiver’s happiness and reputation, and once you have that kind of overdeveloped sense of responsibility as a child, you carry it through into every aspect of your life, because you don’t know any other way of being. No wonder Xiangyi thought he carried the world on his shoulders: growing up, the mountain home/training center was his world–since it seems like he didn’t have interactions with anyone else until he left the mountain at age 15–so he had been carrying that belief for at least a decade without having seen any other models of ways to exist. 

Also, we know Xiangyi thinks he owes his shiniang and shifu for having brought him into their family: having that added sense of debt makes everything so much worse, because he essentially thinks he owes his entire existence to them. It seems like Xiangyi felt like he had to win the competitions to prove he deserved to be there, but also to prove he deserved to exist. 

For his early life, he only felt the positive side of this expectation, because he never lost, since his martial arts skills were so much stronger than Shan Gudao’s. He was unintentionally primed to assume the outcome was a foregone conclusion, because he didn’t have any real challengers. This also hammered home the idea that he was right about things, that he should call the shots, and that collaboration wasn’t really relevant to his life, since it wasn’t as if his shifu taught Xiangyi and Shan Gudao how to fight side by side to defeat other opponents. Losing seemed like something that happened to other people (namely, Shan Gudao), and given the emphasis his shifu and shiniang placed on the competitions, I imagine winning time after time was more than just an adrenaline rush; it was positive reinforcement that he deserved the good things that had come his way, had repaid the debt he owed his shiniang and shifu, and would continue to earn love, respect, a family, a home, and a right to exist.

But when he lost? When he had never had a model for what losing safely feels like? (When the only times he lost were when he lost deliberately to try to cheer up Shan Gudao, but was berated for it, and told it was shameful and wrong to throw a fight for any reason, so losing becomes even more associated with shame?) When losing wasn’t a way to learn, but a sign that he might lose his love, his family, his home? What happens when the scaffolding upholding his right to exist—his ability to win—comes crashing down?

Suicidal ideation. Because he lost not only the battle with Di Feisheng, but also his shixiong, his shixiong’s body, his fiancee, the lives of his men, his reputation, his new home (the Sigu sect), and being able-bodied. In short, he lost everything part of him always feared he’d lose and then some. So why would he think he still has a right to exist, after that? How could he believe someone telling him it wasn’t his fault, when all he has ever known is that the responsibility for everyone he cares for lies with him? 

(I feel like it’s really telling that he didn’t go back to his shiniang’s or shifu’s home after everything went to hell; he said it was because he had been unfilial and couldn’t bear to go back after his shifu died, but it also seems like, given that he had lost everything else, he felt like he didn’t deserve the comfort, family, and home it represented, so staying away is his punishment.)

Given all this, it makes total sense that Li Lianhua wants so desperately to think of Li Xiangyi as dead: he can’t actually reconcile being alive and having failed. So he tries to create a new persona that doesn’t want to be the best in the jianghu or thrive on praise and responsibility, while he tries to correct what he thinks of as his mistakes, before he dies of Bicha poisoning. 

He tries to live the life his shifu wanted for him, where he enjoys pleasures like wine, food, relaxation, and growing things instead of focusing on making a name for himself or winning, and he tries to stay away from people, attachments, and love, because you can’t lose them again if you don’t have them to begin with.

But of course, saying someone is a different person doesn’t make it so. He still wants to be the best–the best physician, the best at scheming, the best at detective work–because he still doesn’t actually know how to be any other way. So he still has the same problems as Li Xiangyi: he still withholds information and commands more than collaborates (it’s frankly amazing he works as well with Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng as he does), still has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility (he believes he has to be the one to save those he cares about and stop everyone else, whether Shan Gudao or the emperor), and at the end, is still suicidal (because now he thinks he’s responsible for the death of his shifu, for not seeing Shan Gudao’s plot, and probably in some warped way for the Nanyin situation once he learns the truth of his heritage, because the man has never met a situation he can’t take the blame for). 

It doesn’t surprise me at all that Li Lianhua doesn’t fully get how much he means to Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing at the end, or that he thinks they just want their version of Li Xiangyi: he can’t imagine being loved and still having made a mistake.

[ilynpilled]

i can fully understand the gripes with certain misogynistic tropes/writing issues that are present in the execution of some of cersei’s writing, but i will never understand the “she should have a redemption arc” or “she should be more likeable/less morally dark” perspective. that is not what her character is or has to be to make it great. wanting more female anti-heroes or “redemption arcs” with moral greyness and complexity of the level that asoiaf gives to primarily male characters is entirely understandable, but do some of you people even like cersei as a character, like at its core? like this is not about criticising the execution of certain things when it comes to this character, this is about taking issue with her as a villain fundamentally, which i just do not agree with at all

[shannonsketches]

I read some tags implying that my Piccolo is Gohan’s Real Dad is a hater statement but listen I never said Goku wasn’t Gohan’s real dad. Some boys have two real dads and an ex-military uncle with a shady past who lets you drink at his house as long as you don’t tell your mom, and that’s okay.

[ellearts]

My design for the Abbi Pulling Helmet contest for the Singapore GP which sadly have not won :((((

[ndostairlyrium]

D2 for the art meme thingy. For Fenris and Hawke cause I think they deserve some non angsty cuddles.

(I LOVE YOUR ART)

since you're going, bring him some veggie meatballs! Those are clearly superior u-u

(Thank you so much omg ;; you're a sweetheart!!)

The Meme

[mixtapedoh]

the amazing, showstopping, incredible @musicallisto enables me daily <3333

for your consideration <3; you may now rest soundly in the knowledge that i am, in all things, correct.

[en-chi-la-da]

Tbh I think the whole class should get to smooch hajime. It’s what he deserves

im imagining hajime sitting in a kissing booth looking like lucy from peanuts in her psychiatrist booth. kisses are 5 cents. the hajime is IN.

[good-beanswrites]

Hello hello! It's me again! (That one Anon who requested Lies with Kazui & Yuno, but I've set up my account now so no need to ask anonymously again lol) Thank you for satisfying my previous request, it was such a delight to read. I keep rereading it every now and then and I'm still always left in awe with it like jesus christ you didn't have to go all in on that im sobbing with the 0207 friendship dynamic.

I've also seen your latest post and drabble asks. I'd like to request from the Drabble List#1 - #5 “Idiots. They are all idiots.” with Es themselves!

Let the prisoners have fun and Es just stares at them nonchalantly, silently judging their idiocy from afar, hell, maybe even let Yuno/Mikoto convince them to join. You can do anything as long as you think it'll fit, they're all just a little silly (minus the fact they're in prison lol).

With all that said, take your time and no rush! I can always wait. Thanks a lot! ...now back to rereading my previous request for the nth time,, i love it so much,, thankyouagain

Ah thank you so much, that means so much!! I'm so glad you liked it, that one was really nice to write :'D And yesss thank you for the request -- this was such a blast to do as well! (though I also made myself emotional over Es' lost childhood, that was less fun ;___;) I debated on several activities within the prison but thought this was plausible and fun for some mid-T1 shenanigans

Es had a job to do. They had many eyes watching them. They had several lives in their hands. They had heavy responsibilities. They didn’t have time for something as silly as ‘video game night’, regardless of the laughter that bubbled up from the common room as they passed by. They were not way tempted to join, regardless of how much fun the group seemed to be having when they peered their head in.

Fuuta had whined that Es had replaced all his requests with completely outdated consoles and games, confirming they had been successful in choosing things without any access to the internet or outside world. Plus, they thought, this gave the older prisoners a fighting chance with some of the games.

Not that they cared whether or not the prisoners had a good time. That wasn’t any concern of theirs. Even in these long periods of rest between their more eventful duties, they must remain focused.

The laughter crescendoed into delighted screaming.

Es figured one more look inside wouldn’t hurt. They were supposed to be keeping an eye on everyone, after all. 

The prisoners had gathered various chairs and bedding material, creating makeshift couches. Some piled onto the new seating, some splayed out on the ground, others stood in excitement. The television was so small, the two players needed to lean all the way forward to see. 

Mahiru bounced in her seat as Yuno whipped around her remote. Fuuta was demanding Kazui play better, gesturing wildly at the screen. Shidou chucked to himself as the others grew more intense. Haruka kept asking questions about the game, receiving an answer only about half the time. 

As the match got closer, Yuno leapt to her feet. She tried to shimmy in front of Kazui and block his view. He stood to prod her out of the way. Muu called foul play, though she said it with a thrill rather than accusation. Fuuta repeated it -- with quite a lot of accusation -- and tried to push Yuno out of the way. Mikoto tried to hold him back, voicing his support of Yuno’s methods. 

The others got caught up in the yelling. Amane’s eyes were wide in anticipation. Kotoko pumped her fist as the battle got even closer. The room erupted in movement and shoving and tripping and remote pulling -- until they yanked the tiny television forward. 

The thick cord came free, and the screen went black just before a winner was announced. Ten voices chorused their outrage.

Es shook their head. “Idiots. They are all idiots.”

They turned away as the prisoners hurried to set everything up again. They were just about to turn the corner into the panopticon when Yuno’s voice called from behind.

“Hey!” She ran up, taking advantage of their brief pause. “I saw you passing by. Why don’t you come join us?”

Not for the first time, Es wished they had enough height to look down on all the prisoners. “I’m your warden. I’m not some child here to play games with you all.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m not a kid either. But I’m still down for a night to unwind.”

“You’re lucky to have the luxury to relax. I, on the other hand, am busy right now.”  

Yuno made a show of looking left, then right, across the empty hallway. “And what exactly are you doing right now?”

“I’m working.”

She frowned. “Uh-huh…”

“I am!” They fumbled for more, coming up blank. They should have known the moment she came skipping over to them that it would be impossible to fool her. There was no need for this routine check of the prison; everyone was gathered in the common room except them. Yuno had known this before uttering a single word.

Her hands fluttered in a dismissive gesture. “Too much work is never good for you. It doesn’t matter how mature you are -- if you get too caught up in your job it’ll drive you to some crazy things.” She smirked. “Just look at Shidou. Or Mikoto!”

“I could look at you…”

Though surprise flickered across her face, she kept grinning. “Exactly! So let’s get you in here.” She tugged on their arm. Prisoners couldn’t physically move Es against their will. 

They huffed as they found themselves inching closer and closer to the entryway.

“I suppose I can come and watch,” they muttered, “and still keep an eye on you all.”

“No! No more working!” She managed to get them into the room. “Here, you can take my spot in the next round.”

Kazui looked over. “Who said you were getting the next spot?”

“Oh come on, I was clearly going to win that one.”

“Clearly? I'm pretty sure was seconds away from beating you.”

“Well then, I guess Es can take your spot.”

“Es is playing?” Haruka looked up excitedly. 

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

It was as if they hadn’t said anything at all. The others launched into a discussion of who would give their remote to Es? Who would they’d face off against? Were they resetting the bracket they’d begun? Which game would they return to? The ten argued in circles for a while. For a group of murderers, they were insistent on a fair tournament. After breaking up some bickering that could have become physical, Es once again wondered how they ended up watching over a mess like this. 

At length the game was chosen, and a rematch was slated for Yuno and Kazui later in the night. To save themself time and sanity, Es went ahead and picked their opponent.

“I’ll play Fuuta.” 

He had been the obvious choice: he could supply enough chatter for the both of them, so Es could remain silent. Also, he was guaranteed to win and free them from an obligation to play more than one round. They flashed a look at some of the more observant prisoners, hoping they didn’t tip them off.

However, no one was really watching them too keenly. Mahiru clapped in joy. Yuno beamed. Mikoto shoved a remote into their hands. Haruka started rapidly explaining the rules to them. Shidou directed Es to their seat in the center. Kotoko gave them an encouraging nod. As expected, Fuuta was already deep into trash talk as he sat next to them.

They really were simple-minded people, more focused on this silly game than the fact their warden had just sat amongst them. It was dangerous to let one’s guard down in a place like this, Es reminded themself. 

With a little jingle, the match began. 

Their fingers flew across the controls. Though they had a rocky start, some sort of muscle memory kicked in. Surely this game had come out before they were born, and there was no way they’d played it regularly. None of that mattered much. Their little avatar was obviously gaining the lead.

Their eyes stayed fixed on the screen as they received slaps on the back and nudges. Their guard's cap was knocked off in the shuffling, but they couldn't risk picking it up. Voices called all around them.

“Aw, don’t just let the kid win!” Mikoto said.

“I’m not!” Fuuta was desperate. “They fucking tricked me! They’re a pro!”

Es felt energy run through their entire body. Their original plan already slipping away, they wondered if they could actually beat Fuuta. It would be fun to see… They leaned forward, holding their breath. The audience continued cheering the pair on. Once again, the room was swept up in shouts.

The match ended. A little banner flashed across the screen to name Es victorious. They jumped up, a small whoop escaping them. 

They would’ve melted in shame right then and there, if the sound weren’t already drowned out by the surrounding chaos. The others laughed and shook Es in amazement. Fuuta let out a string of colorful language.

“That was incredible!”

“Holy shit!”

“How’d you do that?”

Es placed the cap back on their head, pulling it over their eyes. “I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. I’m done for the night.” They tried to pass off the remote, but Mikoto pushed it back into their hands. 

“Nuh-uh. I want to see this for myself.” He grabbed the other one from a dejected Fuuta. “Same game. Same characters. Lemme see what you’ve got.”

Es wasn’t meant to play one round, much less get caught up in their ridiculous tournament.

Don’t be an idiot, they told themself.

“Bring it on,” they told Mikoto.

[goldiipond]

almost every papermario title gives you a best friend in the form of a very opinionated small woman with extensive knowledge on everything in the world. and these women are my favorite characters every time