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neetily · 3 days ago

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Kinktober 2024 — Werewolf Alex

— ✧ pairing: Alex / F!Reader — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ word count: 6,856 — ✧ warnings: noncon, werewolf, A/B/O, knotting, pet names (pup), established relationship, breeding, size difference, biting, cervix fucking — ✧ synopsis: you were never meant to and he didn't mean to. you have to understand...

— ✧ A/N: we are SO late to posting this but yknow what. it's posted. thats all that matters. thank you for waiting for me mwah mwah much appreciated please enjoy idk if its good or not i havent written in so long thank you x

— ✧ kinktober masterlist

The end of the month is always a difficult time, right? It’s hard to relax when knowing that the next working period is just right around the corner, haunted by visions of dirt and hay in the corner of his eye. Like a ghost of continuous hardship— he assumes it’s that way for everyone, though not least for him especially. Completely spent, hours toiling over ripe land—the life of a farmer, he knows, he isn’t complaining beyond reason—has left his muscles all sore and aching, straining against the skin surrounding it with bulging exhaustion. If he’s feeling this weak and tired himself, then he can’t imagine just how bad you must feel every month… A pang of guilt leaving him momentarily breathless as he considers his appreciation of you; he can do better, no doubt.

But he especially feels lacking tonight, cosied up in bed with you beneath him, moonlight pouring in from the forgotten about blinds in the dead of night with stark remembrance. It’s a little cold, he thinks. A shivering running up his spine at the chill that envelops him whole, one that he tries to spare you from lest you’re forced to endure the unkind nature of the night with him.

Well, any more than you’ve already had to, anyway.

He’s sure that the nights are long for someone like you, manual labour wearing you down day in and day out… Perhaps the number one thing you look forward to is those comfy bed sheets you currently lay upon at the end of every night. Soft and sleek, slinking over your body with only the utmost of care— it sounds nice! Real nice. He’s aware of how hard you work and, subsequently, how hard you must rest. But selfishly, he thinks that nights like these might just be a little more difficult for someone like him, for someone undergoing his predicament.

Farm work is hard, but have you ever experienced complete and utter transformation in the light of the night? A horror in its own right, from scraggly fur to his shortened temper… It’s scary for him too, y’know? Exhausting, actually, to go through such change in such a short amount of time. Just a little window of moonlight, that’s all it takes for him to forget about his humanity, even in the face of your utter innocence. Have you ever felt the hardship of turning into that which you hate at the end of every month? Regardless of your own wants or wishes?

No, he didn’t think so.

He’d warned you beforehand at the very least. Given the state of things, he felt he owed you the bare minimum of that. He wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if he hadn’t, right? Now, he knows that he’s not responsible for his actions after the fact! He did his due diligence and you decided to ignore him. It’s not his fault. He did his best.

Oh, but as he stares down at you through hazy eyes, taking in the sight of your big wet puppy stare back up at him, he can feel the remainder of his humanity beg for a much needed break. Fluffy wolf ears twitching in contradictory excitement when you whine up at him in assumed confusion, long well groomed tail swishing from side to side eagerly behind him when you avoid his half-lidded gaze. He fucking warned you, little pup. Fucking knew that this would happen at some point, though he thought he’d have taught you better by now. Advising you against his pearly white fangs that shine in the moonlight swimming in from your bedroom window, urging you to leave him and his sharp claws all alone tonight like every end of the month, but oh, they look so nice when digging gently into your soft skin, right?

And, more than anything, he warned you of his inability.

He’s always prided himself on his ability, first and foremost. Strong, well cared for muscles bulging under the weight of the moon tonight, his efforts to be reliably strong for you have paid off in the worst ways possible, right? Knees firmly planted by either side of your hips, half his weight keeping you pinned atop the soft bed sheets he’d helped you pick out one day in town. You were right, they are pretty, and they do compliment you well… particularly when you’re wriggling around on them, attempting to worm your way out of the sticky situation you’ve now found yourself in. Because don’t be mistaken, this is your own fucking fault, pup.

And yet still, here he is, utterly incapable. The complete opposite of everything he’s ever wanted and strived for, an ache clawing at his chest far deeper than he claws at your waist at the realisation that he’s failing you right now. He wants to be better for you, chewing on his bottom lip enough to taste just a sting of metallic as his brows furrow in sheer concentration of the taste, veins popping in his arms in a subconscious attempt to hold back in spite of your stupidity tonight.

“… Warned ya.” He eventually mutters mid leering, huffing to exhale a stagnant sigh he hadn’t meant to hold. As if doing so would somehow temper him, keep you safe on the pretty bed sheets in his strong arms like you were earlier, back when he was frantically warning you to get away— “Sorry— I jus’, fuck, would ya quit fuckin’ squirmin at least—”

Cause you’re making it worse. Not just for him, though his fat cock throbs with barely restrained want at all the wiggling around you’re doing; even if it’s useless. You haven’t a hope in fucking hell of escaping him, not with how hard he trains his muscles just for you. But also, you’re making the situation worse for yourself… You really should have left him when he’d given you the choice, escaped somewhere, fuck, anywhere but right next to him, let alone in your own fucking bed. All you’re really doing is riling him up further simply by existing, pushing him closer to the edge he’s so dangerously perched upon, pleading for him to take that final plunge. And like the loyal little mutt he’s always been for you, he wants for nothing more than to please you. Give you exactly what you’re asking for, panting and pleading for the opportunity to, really.

Which is unfortunate, because he really can’t help himself when it comes to you. Never has been able to, and he bets he never will be able to. That is, providing you stick around him after tonight… Of which he’d never blame you for rejecting the offer, given how mean he’s been to you thus far— and that’s while trying to stay composed, too. You’ve got no fucking idea what the night has in store for you, and the thought alone has excitement welling up in his already racing heart. God he loves you. Fuck he wants to ruin you.

Don’t ever fucking leave me. I need you, you don’t understand—

“Mate—” he growls at you, chest rumbling with obvious affection, throat tight with choked up lust. “My mate.”

“Alex— W-wait, please—!”

You sound so soft right now. Scared, like a little animal. A mere pup to his much larger wolf stature, shivering with inherent submission as he paws and plays at every inch of skin he can reach. The moon hangs high in the sky for him, whispering sweet nothings down his ear with promises of forever— all it takes is one night to secure his place by your side forever. Forever and ever, his half lidded gaze stuck on your tummy as you attempt once more to flee his bruising grip, though the attempt is pitiful. He could fill you up so well y’know? Give you so many cute little pups— oh, and he just knows with a twitch of his cock that you’d be the best mama in the world. His perfect little mate; don’t you want that as badly as he does? Don’t you wanna be his pretty princess pup forever? He always imagines it, yknow. Thinks about it every time he fucks his fist silly, especially during his red hot heats when he’s left to fend for himself. Always thinking about you. Always wanting you. Just you. And the way you’re gasping and shaking from under him tells him that you like the lewd idea just as much as he does, right?

Because where you might babble for a break, your body is at least being more honest with him in place of your verbal lies. And he forgives you for that, for letting your inherently needy nature communicate with his own whether intentional or not. You can’t hide from him, he’s your mate, remember?

But to shut you up for a moment, he pinches at your waist a little harder than necessary. He doesn’t mean to, baby, but you have to understand his position here…

Cock rock hard before you, standing tall and proud as it bobs with precum adorning his red hot tip, arms tense and muscles taut under the amount of restraint he has to exude in order not to split you in half right this very second. You have to understand, that as the moon shines upon his back and his wolfish tail wags happily from side to side, that he’s no better than a mere predator animal right now. The man you’ve come to love and adore is there, distantly, behind the wolf mask smirking down at you.

You’re lucky he even gave you a warning at all, y’know? Not many of his kind would offer you the same sanctuaries.

He’s not sure where your sudden bravery has came from tonight, but he’s not one for complaining. You’ve left him to deal with his heat all alone on many occasions as per his wanting, and things have been just fine, right? You’re still with him for the time being, still consider him your boyfriend, right? He doesn’t understand why you’d ruin it all tonight, everything he’s worked so hard for previously. Doesn’t get why you’d prompt him into pinning you onto the bed with teeth bared and cock out; he can never stand the feeling of fabric rubbing against his heated skin every time his heat comes along. All scratchy and wrong, and besides— doesn’t it feel better to be bare? To be in your most natural state possible? It makes sense, given his animalistic nature.

And it’s only a once a month annoyance anyway. Trivial in the grand scheme of things, no? You really should have been a good girl like how you usually are and stayed the fuck away from him given his genuine pleading, but alas, here he tugs on your pretty skin just for idle fun until you settle down a bit. He can only hold off his instincts for so long, y’know?

And never long enough for you to go back on your stupid decision, that’s for sure.

Y’know, it was just so easy for him to undress you too, like you secretly wanted this to happen deep down. Hell, he has half a mind to actually believe that despite your thrashing around as he pulls and tears items of clothing from your heated body, that you do want this. Maybe you’re just playing hard to get, offering him a little fight to help kick start his prey drive— nothing but the best for you. And well, he can hardly blame you if that’s the case, given how hard his heart thumps with sheer awe upon gazing at your shivering naked frame, gaze glued to your perfect tits that his paws automatically grope at as if magnetic. As if home; he’s only doing what comes natural to him. And he could never be blamed for that, right? What’s natural is never wrong, surely.

“Sorry,” he’s not really, it’s just the he doesn’t know what else to say in the moment. Doesn’t understand how he could possibly bite back the moons influence on his hormones, a shiver running up his spine at the way you inadvertently rub your exposed tummy against his hot cock. Tip just drooling all over your front, a copious amount of precum to help aid in his sole goal tonight. “Don’t mean t’make ya wait.”

You just look so pretty when struggling for him like this, writhing around on the sheets with a wobble on your lips, you wear fear so well, such a little fucking tease aren’t you? The way your brows furrow before him in concentration—or is it upset? He doesn’t care much either way, really—is so fucking hot to him, has his cock twitching and trembling against your soft, breedable body with insatiable need.

“Alex, I— I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t— Didn’t mean to, I didn’t know—”

Bullshit, he seethes to himself upon hearing your lies, huffing with an air of arrogance while rolling his eyes at your misfortune. You fucking knew. Knew exactly what you were getting into tonight, and he’d even go so far as to claim that you want it too. After all, after tonight, you’ll be his pretty puppy mate. And nobody knows his mate better than he does, right?

Which is why he takes to cooing down at you gently. A sickly sweet attempt to warm you up— though he’s sure his excess pheromones will do much of the heavy lifting for him. Exuding his scent all over you, wrapping his tail around one of your legs to softly soothe and relax you into compliance. “Shh,” he whispers down at you, though he can feel the way his expression tugs into one of pain and suffering. Because it hurts to hold himself back for you, physically fucking pains him to keep himself in check for your own safety. If he had it his way you’d be face down ass up on the bed at this point already, but he’s not so far gone as to act the simple animal just yet. There’s still time. “S’okay, lemme take care of ya…”

The weight he pushes down on you from sitting on your lap is enough to keep you in one place for his affections, letting his cock rub along your tummy and pelvis, smearing precum all over your front as if claiming you in the meantime. His claws, once digging into your hips, take to travelling lightly up and down your sides to lull you into a false sense of security. Opening you up to what will come whether you like it or not, simply because it’s in your best interests to lay there and fucking take it— God, fuck… he’s already so hard for you, dripping his stink all over your pretty body to assert his dominance over such a lowly pup such as yourself.

Though what’s important is that you’re his lowly pup. All mine, mine, mine.

And the little squeals and kicks you let out only serve to turn him on further, cock pulsing and fucking begging for more, to feel the too tight squeeze of your cunt as a promise of shared devotion so late at night. It’s almost romantic, he muses to himself, if not for the brutal aspect of his transformation. His ears instinctively turn downwards at the thought, an unspoken apology— though he doesn’t stop. Can’t, really.

All hunched back and muted growls, he simply towers over you. There’s no chance of escape, no way you could ever get out from under him. And that, the complete and utter lack of control you currently have in the situation, turns him on more than anything else. Having you rely on him for anything and everything, just fucking gets to him, y’know? Tail travelling over your legs to leave your knees all wobbly before wagging eagerly behind himself.

You’re lucky he’s been able to hold back till now.

Heat overtakes him at the sight of your attitude, warmth swallowing his lungs whole with a mere gasp escaping him. Its like a light switch goes off in his mind, spurred on by your petulant demeanour— a deep rooted need to prove himself to you, to have you submit, preferably willingly, under his rough touch and leering eyes. The moon commands it, he simply perks his ears up to listen to her call.

“Sit still a minute,” he hums at you, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek to puff it out a little, a subconscious display of dominance as he manhandles you into proper mounting position with such ease even he’s a little surprised at himself. Causing you to squeak as he flips you over so that your face is squished into the soft pillows below, and his bulging arm can hook under your tummy to hoist your ass up in the air for his own selfish enjoyment. The heat, no doubt, has increased his strength. Always does, which is in part why he’d rather you’d leave him alone when the full moon comes. Your pretty little human body is no match for his fur coat.

Little lamb just wanted to offer herself up for the slaughter, didn’t you?

“Alex,” you cut him off with such a scathing tone, the tasty fear dripping your words as he shifts himself to be in a better position to give you exactly what you want in spite of your bodily actions has his heart skipping a loving beat. Like yeah, you should be scared of me. “I—” you attempt to follow up with something less important than his growls, but his harsh hand shoves your face further into the pillow below to shut you up once and for all, to teach you not to interrupt his concentration, or his begging cock that pushes and rubs pre all over your ass cheeks now that he’s primed and ready to mount.

Though he can still feel the twinge of sorry caught in the back of his throat, the way his cock twitches against your shivering frame when he dips the tip down automatically—instinct imploring him to go on, take what’s rightfully yours—the more beastly side of his existence easily convinces him to continue. Pointing his ears in your direction to hear those yummy muted sobs as the tip of his cock grazes against your soaked little slit and— oh, his pheromones are working, right? Either that, or, like he thinks, you fucking want this. Somewhere, deep down in that sexy little wiggling about body of yours, you crave his pups, don’t you?

And, well… Even if you don’t, you’re gonna get em anyway. Because your body is at least asking for it, and he promised to look after you. Every part of you, regardless of whether you ask for it or not— it’s the job of the alpha, right?

Poor little pup, he sighs to himself, one hand keeping your face smooshed against the pillows, while the other automatically takes to wagging his cock between your legs, teasing that puffy little cunt with his sheer weight and size. Everything about him increases during his heat; an attempt to secure a good mate, he thinks. Certainly not to attract a human such as yourself, but alas, he’s hoping that the meagre teasing he provides to your swollen cunt will be enough to help you take him somewhat at least. He’d ordinarily want to, and does, offer you far more in the way of warming you up to his sheer size, but the night wont last forever. And he can feel the ache of need well up in his tummy the longer he stares down at your slit with lust filled hearts in his eyes. Ogling at the tiny little peek of cunt your arched back position offers him, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress a lewd groan from escaping at the shiny slick that coats his cock all sticky with the shaking he does— tail and all.

He’s got alpha appearances to keep up with after all.

Precum oozes from his tip as he idly wags it against you to tempt your submission, humming groans and growls down at you in the meantime. “Behave,” he huffs when you still yet attempt to escape his grip, only prompting him into adding more pressure to your head to help pin you in place. “You’ll get it, fuck— wan’ it so bad, dont’cha?” he lulls, mind fogged with lust as the ache in his balls grows bigger and bigger and—

Ah, he’s rutting against you now. It’s hardly surprising given how hard you tug around his cock, writhing around like a little slut just for him. It’s nice, that despite how much your lips lie against the sheets, your pretty puppy pussy drools honesty all over him. And he wants so badly to lap it all up for you, clean you up empty with flat tongued sucks and greedy gulps, but his cock fucking hurts when pulsing against you. An insatiable need to breed buried deep down in his soul, a tutting scold escaping him when he realises just how long he’s made you wait. That’s not very nice of him, is it?

“S’okay,” he reassures you with a full fanged smile on his lips. It’s short lived, wiped from his expression the moment he leans into the slow thrusts against your slit and fuuuuck— he’s so fucking sensitive, shit. Got the heat to thank for that, pleasure shivers running along his spine to leave him gasping for air simply from a little petting. Like he’s the pup, and not the wolf his appearance dictates otherwise. “Gonna— fuck me—” he can’t fucking focus, cutting himself off as his eyes roll to the back of his skull as if to signal that the transformation is complete, that he is now the wolf in sheeps clothing. Dragging his hips back to let his cock run along the line of your slit, pushing it upwards so that your folds wrap around his girth and— yeah, yeah, “That’s it,” he huffs from behind you, tip pressed dangerously close to your twitchy hole. This is it, God, he can’t wait to fucking take what belongs to him. “Atta girl—! You got it, promise t’take it real nice an’ slow fr’ya.”

He’s smiling wide and toothy to try and hide his lie, because he knows that he wont be able to last like that. Not with his favoured mate bent over before him like a bitch in heat.

He supposes you are now, at least in theory. Soon to be practice.

And it’s so easy for him to let go in the end. Disregard those well intentions he’s spent so long building up for you, casting your wellbeing aside in the selfish pursuit to do only what comes natural to him, which is to say… It’s so easy for him to tilt his hips at the right angle so that his tip catches on your hole, and the resulting squeal you sound from your pillow muffler has a fat bead of milky pre rolling out to leave you stickier than before.

Remember: he gave you his warning. Whatever happens tonight, it’s your fault.

But he doesn’t blame you too much, not when he starts to push his soaked with pre tip inside of sopping cunt, letting it dip into your hole enough to hear you gasp at the unnatural stretch already. Poor babe, he’s struggling too! Holding his breath as a means to concentrate on just how unreal you feel right now, immediately squeezing down on his throbbing cock, choking every slow inch he manages to shove inside of you with impatient minuscule humps. He even whines in sheer sexual frustration over just how much he wants it, how badly he needs to split you in two on his cock, desperately in puppy love with how good you’re making him feel. Got the big bad wolf keening for more, like he was a filthy fucking virgin all over again—

Ah, but you’re just so tiny, and he’s just so big. Comparatively, at least. Little puppy cunt doing her best to accommodate his girth, but no amount of lube could ever hope to have him squeeze in his full size any time soon. And though he may be lost in your tight heat, hazy eyes struggling to take in the sight of your sobbing frame, he’s not evil. Not even as he forces you to endure the burn of his cock humping into you bit by bit, the veins running along it throbbing with every squeal and mewl you let out in response to his bullying, he doesn’t want to hurt you. Not intentionally.

Then he’d have no mate to play with, y’know?

Selfishly, he hunches over you, ‘accidentally’ fucking more of his cock inside of you until you sob in too much pain. Mumbled sorries drip from his puffy lips, bitten bloody from how downright difficult it is for him to treat you with any ounce of respect, especially when his body is practically screaming at him to rail your shape into the mattress under you right this second, to fuck you straight into next week with wobbly legs. But the new angle he provides is a deeper one, greedily so. Instincts kicking in full swing when you wiggle around to attempt getting comfortable on the end of his fat cock— he’s barely even fucked any of it inside of you yet, puppy…

And yet, he finds himself gasping for air alongside you. Forcing his way inside of your too tight little cunt with eager huffs and knowing growls. You’re just so soft and squishy, like what a good little pup should be, gushing around his cock as he pours precum against your hot insides. His tail straightens in his efforts, as if to help him worm his way inside of your tight cunt just a little more, fully gasping for air as the tightness and wetness of your creamy cunt has knocked the wind out of him.

For such a big alpha wolf, all it takes is one little pretty princess pussy to render him stupid, huh? Truly fucking dumb, tongue lolling out from his open maw as he moans openly in enjoyment, pleasure prompting his toes to curl as you attempt to claw away from his unfair little humps, but he’s far too strong for you, isn’t he? Got you pinned pretty in place, hovering over you to completely encase your meagre frame under his much larger stature— he can see the swish of his tail from side to side cast in the shadow he causes above you.

He shifts his weight around a little, letting his sweaty front rest heavily upon your sweaty back while he pins your wrists above your head. Surely causing you to fall off balance and fold into the sheets a little more in the process, but it’s this action that finally allows his sopping tip to kiss against your cervix, and a low howl to escape his dry throat in utter enjoyment. All scratchy and rough, crawled up to his lips automatically as his grip on you tightens, claws digging into your soft skin for better leverage.

“Fuck—” escapes him, hushed and whined with a droop of his ears. Maybe you were right, maybe he should be fucking you for every rut, right? The sobs of pleasure you let out upon the pop of his cock filling your poor little angel cunt right up convinces him to continue, humming to himself as he pats your ass once or twice as encouragement. You’ve got him feeling better than he’s ever felt before, stark hot stimulation coursing through his veins as your tiny hole squeezes the life out of him so well— “Feels good, right?” he huffs just as much for himself as he’s trying to rile you up some more too, taking in the sounds of your gratification before matching you with his own happy sounds. Smiled moans pressed right against the shell of your ear— of course you’re enjoying being filled to the brim with his fat cock, yeah? You wouldn’t be shivering otherwise, he thinks to himself. Wouldn’t be mewling his name over and over again all pretty like that, high pitched and broken, vibrating with excitement as he lets his fat wolf cock rest heavily inside of your hole for a moment or two. Not for your own benefit or anything, but because he’s sure that if he were to move immediately, he’s bust a load before even getting to fully enjoy himself.

And he wants to fuck you into submission too, remember? He cant rightly do that if he cums within seconds like some sort of loser. No, he’s your alpha wolf mate. And he intends on taking care of you, because it’s whats best for you, especially given the way your cunt leaks all over his cock all pretty and sticky like that, dripping down the length of it and onto his balls, and—

Oh. He’s only managed to fuck half his cock inside before you’re fit to burst. The remaining half still pulses outside, jealous no doubt of the warmth his tip his currently experiencing. It’s a shame, of course, that this is all you can manage at the moment, but he’s willing to wait for you. Willing to fuck you again and again during this heat, and for the future heats he’s sure to experience. There’s no escaping them really, so you should be happy to deal with that which you’ve caused. Willing to fuck you until your meek little body learns to accept his full fat cock.

He’s happy enough to fuck you wide open eventually, internally promising to himself to train your cunt to accept his affections sooner rather than later. But it’s difficult to deny just how good it feels to know that he’s so much physically bigger and stronger than you are, as well as the obvious ego stroking your cunts doing to him right now. Stroking him almost as well as she does his cock, squirming around him so well that he has to hang his head lower against you in sheer enjoyment, a greedy curse escaping him in the motion, prompting a small huff to escape your squished lips.

He can’t help himself any longer.

“Gonna ruin you,” he starts, voice low and tense, just like his muscles as he tugs on your body to get you situated perfectly on his cock. Still his hands remain on your wrists, keeping you sufficiently pinned in place, but his other hand spreads your ass cheeks apart so that he can enjoy the sight of your hole twitching around his assaulting cock. “An’ don’t be shy,” he teases, flashing his fangs as a display of dominance even if you can’t see him right now. Surely you can hear his taunts loud and clear through your babbles and bubbles of sobs, picking up on the dominance of his pheromones, right?

“Wanna hear jus’ how much y’enjoy it, kay?”

And he doesn’t give you much of a chance to respond before taking what he wants from you, well past his limits of holding back by now, all thanks to how inherently lewd you’re being for him tonight. Ignoring his well meaning warnings, wiggling your ass impatiently on his cock, and sobbing for more— it’s obvious that he couldn’t refrain from indulging in your sweet scented cunt; he can practically taste the want dripping from your twitchy hole.

Relenting to his natural wolfish instincts, he gives you exactly what you need.

A good dicking down, yeah? A nice, breeding, fuck.

There’s no tenderness to his actions as he pulls his hips back once more, letting just his tip remain inside for you to cry about so sweetly that his cock trembles against you, and there’s similarly no love to be found in his full force slam back inside— unfair in his affections, selfishly seeking to fulfil his sole reason for existing through your tiny little body; God, he could fucking eat you right up if you’d only let him. He just might anyway, regardless of your consent.

Because that’s how fucking feral he feels right now. Unable to listen to reason, or even his own humanity for that matter. Turned into a useless fucking dog at the whim and mercy of his precum coated cock. For all you probably care, he’s a mere tail wagging, drool spilling, hips swinging, fucking dog right now. Fucking into you at such a brutal pace— you aren’t so used to the strength he gains from heats, he’s made sure of that, though he normally has a decent weight behind his thrusts when fucking into you like an animal, there's just something more about him when he inhabits his instincts, right? Complete brutality, an utter disregard for anything other than how good he feels. The bed immediately creaking under your shaking body to match your girlish squeaks thanks to his rash thrusts, fucking as much of his cock inside of you as he can; which is merely half, still, despite the endless supply of lube he offers you. Tiny little puppy, you’re sooooo fucking cute, it’s unfair!

And for a moment he’s choked. Cock and throat, really. In awe at the way you do your best to take him in spite of the stupid size difference, his knees digging into the sheets below to keep himself stable enough to fuck you raw and heavy. Fuck you like you deserve to be, ruin that pretty little pussy, yeah? He’s only returning the favour considering the sheer amount of overstimulation your tight cunt is sucking him into right now has truly ruined him from spending his heats alone. This is what you deserve, yeah? For not leaving him alone like he’d asked.

Oh, but he forgives you for it. Truly, he does. For if not for your stubborn nature, he wouldn’t get to experience the sight of your cream frothing a ring around the mid of his cock like you’re doing right now, body jerking up the bed from how heavy his frantic thrusts are inside of your tight hole. He’d be disallowed from listening to your cute cries for more if you hadn’t been so adamant on sticking around, the mix of no and stop sound so pretty and broken when falling from your lips, got his hips pumping in and out faster out of pure need to hear you make more of those pitiful sounds alone.

You truly are the perfect mate for him.

Nobody else would have him acting this unruly, fucking into your tight little cunt like a man starved, unable to keep up with the brutal pace he’s set for himself as he humps your hole raw. And God, he’s never felt so fucking good before, completely giving in to his selfish desires as he lets go of your wrists now that you’re sufficiently fucked out on half his cock, only to immediately paw and grab at your pretty hanging tits as they bounce in his clawed hands and fuck, he can feel the tacky sheen of sweat line his forehead as he gulps for air and—

You sound so pretty too. All high pitched and cracked, voice barely able to escape the stupid bout of whines and gasps his girth fucks out of you, but pretty all the same. Like you can’t handle his cock, struggling to take his utter adoration of you as he forces his cock shape against your insides, throbbing inside of your hole with seedy intent. Feels good, too fucking good, so unfair in the tight suck of your cunt, he’s got no choice but to give you his all, right? Growling down at you when you yelp at his rough tugs and pulls on your tits, prompting his hips to stutter just a little against your ass as he huffs with feigned annoyance.

“Be a good girl,” he almosts warns you, though he doesn’t intend on it. It’s just that your cunt has him so riled up, heat radiating from him to meld where his cock pounds into you, a rough tone to his voice as if communicating just how downright fucking desperate he is for you tonight. Like he always is, of course, but this time is different. It’s more feral, isn’t it? All teeth and claws and disregard for human nature. Fucked like a filthy animal, so fucking hot, right?

“Be a good girl an’ cum fr’me, yeah? Wanna— shit, wanna feel ya so bad babe—“ he punctuates his begs with greedy fucks forward, incidentally knocking you a little off balance to fall further into him. A welcome mistaken, given that it allows him further leverage to fuck you open, the feeling of your insides squirming around his fat cock is enough to have him on the edge already— which reminds him. “Gotta feel ya cum around me, kay? Jus’ once, promise, I— oh fuck, that’s it— I, I promise, jus’ once baby, c’mon—”

To be honest, he’d say just about anything to you right now if it meant you’d cream his cock, any sordid lie or exaggeration, fucking anything to feel the way your walls choke his cock off so well like that, fuck.

And he’s close too, can feel the way his thighs start to shake and his tummy tightens under the strain of your submission. So cute when you’re being so obedient for him, laying there without a care in the world, just so that he can use you to his hearts content. It’s what he deserves, he thinks, for being suck a good alpha for you, right? Leaning over you just that little bit further so as to clamp his teeth down on your neck— not too hard! He doesn’t intend on harming you from biting, but his fangs are deep enough to promote your compliance, to keep you in place long enough for one of his hands to sneak between your thighs to rub at your clit. All messy and sloppy, barely coordinated from how lightheaded and dizzy he feels thanks to your tight hole sucking him off so well, but he nonetheless urgently attempts to get you off before he busts himself.

He slurps and sucks around your neck wound, making sure to clean it all up for you before you have a chance to cry about the mess, cooing sweet dirty words down your ear and huffing moans for you to hear just how good you’re making him feel, how thankful he is to finally have a mate to spend his heat with. Flicking at your clit the way he knows you enjoy, incidentally fucking into you a little deeper given the way your cunt pulses harsher around his cock— “That’s it, m’so close too, c’mon—” he urges you, listening intently to the loud wet slap of his balls against your slit; he can only imagine the puddle of slick gathering under your creamy cunt. And suddenly his throat is dry with want to suck it up from the sheets immediately following— “Give it t’me, feel s’fuckin’ good, holy shit babe—”

It’s a good thing that you cum almost as soon as he’s finished provoking you, and the confirmation of your returned affections is enough to trigger his own orgasm. Pumping you full of his fat wolf load as deep as he can; it’s an attempt to mark his territory. To claim you as his own pretty pup, his cute little mate that’s currently creaming his cock, gushing around his girth as he offers you meagre little thrusts to make sure as much of his seed stays inside with breeding intent.

His tail wags the whole time, clearly happy with his work as his cock swells and he’s forced to wince at the displeased sounds you let out in response. He’s barely caught his breath enough to reassure you with “I know, I know babe, jus’— fuck, jus’ hold on a minute—” all breathless and moaned, still yet painting your insides white as you come down from your high and come back to your senses. “Know it hurts, God—” he sighs, blissfully unaware of just how much he must be stretching you out on his knot, because he’s too busy feeling the gratification of successfully breeding his perfect pet. “Jus’ wait, you’ll get used to it, promise.”

Keeping you locked under his weight, it doesn’t really matter whether or not you want to get used to the feeling of his knot. All swollen and locked inside of your cunt— you can’t get away from it. Forced to lay there like the breeding bitch you are to him right now until he’s fully empty, letting his seed pump copiously into your already full little hole until it inevitably dribbles out and down his balls, the feeling of which causes him to whine with frustration.

What a waste, he thinks to himself.

“Will give y’more, don’t worry…” he whispers down your ear, humming gently to the sound of your weary weeping.

#alex🏈#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #kinktober #sdv alex smut #stardew valley alex smut #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #kinktober2024 #kinktober 2024 #i think thats all the tags idr lmao

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 days ago

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Mockingjay - Part 10

Hello :)

Once again sorry for the delay, but here is the next chapter for Mockingjay!

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Death or mention of death, blood, injury, suggestive, fight

Chapter before

After their mutual declaration and several (a lot of) kisses exchanged, Lucy finally falls asleep, exhausted by her fight and her injuries. Ona didn’t ask Lucy what happened exactly during the fight, she keeps her questions for later.

Ona was awake all night, looking at Lucy. Just in case she wakes up with pain or something bad happens. But Lucy’s sleep seems peaceful, she only winces from time to time, while changing position. We must say that maybe the ground of a cave isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world.

Being in that position is strange for Ona, she’s not used to being the strong one. It’s usually Lucy who took care of her during their moments together, not the other way. She likes the idea of Lucy being at ease enough with her for it, but of course Ona hates the fact that Lucy is hurt.

They never heard the cannon, so Ona assumed that Tony must be alive somewhere. He doesn’t seem to have any allies, unless they’re all dead already. But the weapon he had was probably from a sponsor. Ona doesn’t know if she will receive more things after the attack she did against her compatriot.

But she stands her ground. Between Lucy and Tony, there she has not a single hesitation.

While Lucy sleeps, Ona lights the fire again and puts some wet tissues on Lucy’s forehead to ease her fever. It seems to work; Lucy’s forehead seems less hot with time.

Ona makes herself more arrows too, she used almost all of them during their fight with Tony. She wonders briefly where the man is, before deciding that she doesn’t care. He might be Joan’s friend; she still has to fight for herself. And the girl she’s in love with.

Talking about Lucy, the girls finally stir for good, but groan in pain while turning on her back. Her face is clenched and Ona hurries to come closer to her.

“Where are you hurt?” she asks softly, removing some hair from her face.

“My head”

“Your head? You didn’t say anything about your head yesterday!”

Ona tries to make Lucy move a little to see which part of her head is hurting. The latter tries to fight against Ona at first, but it was before seeing how determined Ona was. Lucy sighs softly, finally turning on her side.

“Lucy what the fuck”

Lucy doesn’t answer anything and it’s maybe better like this. Ona is mixed between worry and anger against Lucy. There is a wound here too, one that Ona didn’t clean yesterday because Lucy didn’t say anything.

“You couldn’t have done anything anyway” Lucy finally mumbles.

“I still could have cleaned it” Ona answer, her gaze burning.

Lucy chooses widely not to answer anything and crosses her arms when Ona starts to look at the injury. It seems less important than the one on her stomach, but still less superficial than the ones she has on her arms.

Ona cleans Lucy’s head, wondering how she missed the dry blood in Lucy’s hair, before making the girl roll on her back to clean the injury on her stomach.

“How did he manage to attack you by the way?”

Lucy raises her eyes on Ona’s face. The brunette isn’t looking at her, concentrating on her work in Lucy’s body. Lucy sighs softly before answering.

“He took me by surprise. I was looking for food when he jumped on me from behind. He hit me with his weapon. I didn’t hear him coming. He smashed me on my head and from then it was hard to fight back.”

Ona nods softly, wondering if the noises she heard while she was alone in the forest was actually Tony. She hasn’t mentioned it to Lucy until now.

“I think I heard footsteps when I was waiting for you. At that point I was thinking it was you, but when I turned around there was no one. I wonder if it was him.”

“Maybe” Lucy answers after several seconds of thinking. “If it’s him, it means that he chose not to kill you.”

“Yeah…” Ona says slowly. “Or that I could have save you earlier”

Ona was finished with Lucy’s tape since several minutes, so Lucy takes her by her arm to take her closer.

“Don’t reflect like this. You saved me. If you came earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have been able to shoot him like you did. Great aim, by the way.”

Ona rolls her eyes and smiles, snuggling against Lucy as much as she can while being careful not to hurt her more. She smiles when she feels Lucy sighing from well-being, softly kissing her jaw.

“All of those trainings’ session are finally paying off. Looks like training his force wasn’t as useful as he thought.”

“Looks like listening to your mentor was a great idea” Lucy teases.

“It was. It’s because of her advice that I’m still alive”

“I’m glad Alexia Putellas is a genius then.”

Ona hums, stroking Lucy’s neck with her nose. She doesn’t know how much time they will have for themselves, she’s decided to enjoy it as much as she can. She loves Lucy’s scent and how hot and soft her skin is here.

“You know that he’s in love with you right? Tony?”

“I don’t care” Ona answers, kissing Lucy’s neck between her two sentences. “I’m in love with someone else.”

Lucy smiles at this, grabbing softly Ona’s chin between one of her hands.

“Look at you, you little flirt” she says with a smile, before taking Ona’s face against her to kiss her.

Ona smiles against Lucy’s lips, deepening the kiss quickly. Lucy lets her access to her mouth and Ona kind of forgets where they are. All she can think of is Lucy, Lucy’s hand, Lucy’s skin against her, Lucy’s touch. She still remembers not to hurt her, but when Lucy gently tilts them so that Ona is on her back, Ona can’t help but break the kiss.

“Your stomach…” Ona begins.

But Lucy smiles again, putting a finger on her lips.

“I’m fine” she whispers.

She looks in Ona’s eyes again before leaning in for another kiss. After two seconds of hesitation, Ona kisses her back, passing her arms around her neck. Ona is pretty sure that she could kiss Lucy all day long without being used to it. Or tired.

She shivers when Lucy’s fingers slide under the tissues of her clothes, stroking her skin with her fingertips. The sensations are even better than what she remembered or imagined, but when Lucy starts to suck her neck, she feels heat waves in her body and especially between her legs. Under the pleasure, Ona’s fingers (who were under Lucy’s clothes too) sink into the skin of Lucy’s back.

Lucy is very respectful about what Ona told her while still in the Capitol. Ona is sure that Lucy remembers that she never has been intimate with someone else like this. When Lucy is satisfied with her work on Ona’s neck, she kisses the skin lovingly here.

But Lucy seems to come back to reality for real when Ona tries to remove Lucy’s shirt.

“Ona, we don’t have to – “

“No. I want it”

Lucy hesitates for several seconds, looking deep in Ona’s eyes. But Ona only smiles at her, letting her hands run on her back and on her hips.

“I’m sure” she adds, seeing hesitation in Lucy’s eyes.

“Just… Tell me when you want to stop, please”

“I will.”

Ona wanted to answer that she won’t have to say it, because she was certain of what she wants. But she doesn’t have time, Lucy leaning another time for another kiss. Ona doesn’t wait any second to kiss Lucy back. She wants it, she’s sure about it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they might be dead in several hours, but there isn’t another person in the world she would do it with.

Ona’s clothes are suddenly too much on her skin, but Lucy’s hands manage to smooth her skin with their strokes.

There is no rush between them; they both take their time to discover each other and to remember each other at their fingertips.

And some time later, Ona is pretty sure that she never felt so blissful than now. When she looks up at Lucy who is holding her close against her body, she thinks that Lucy feels the same way.

Lucy feels Ona’s gaze on her because she looks at Ona back, offering her one of her perfect smiles.

“How are you?”

“Pretty great” Lucy smirks at Ona over the fire.

“I was talking about your head” Ona chuckles.

She’s still a little mad at Lucy for having kept that injury away from her. But Lucy shrugs, still adding another branch of wood into the fire. The night is here now, and they had to leave the cave for several hours during the day. It has been their refuge and Lucy is a little scared that the leaders of the Games will try to make them get out of it.

“Can I see it?”

“Will you take no as an answer?” Lucy arches an eyebrow.

“No” Ona smirks.

Lucy rolls her eyes but turns around to let Ona have a look. The younger girl doesn’t wait a second and kneels behind Lucy, gently looking at Lucy’s wound. She hums when she sees it. It doesn’t look very good, but it seems to heal as best as possible.

“It looks okay” Ona whispers. “Are you still in pain? Honestly.”

“It’s okay. Pounding sometimes but I will survive.”

Ona bites her bottom lip, preferring not to remember that they are in a Game fighting for their life. She stays silent and Lucy doesn’t seem to catch what she is thinking about. She starts to talk anyway, taking Ona’s mind away from there.

“We need a plan now. To know how to fight against the others.”

“What do you have in mind?” Ona asks, going to sit in front of the other girl.

“First, we have Camden and Kayla. Camden is hardly injured, but Kayla doesn’t have any injury as long as I’m aware. It would be a hard fight if we were crossing their path. The best thing would be to have them separated. They were near the starting point until now, but they might have changed now.”

Ona nods. It would make sense; Lucy is now with her, and she knows where they were staying. Plus, one of them is hurt and they would probably want to hide him as long as possible.

“Then we have Tony. You hurt him pretty badly.”

Ona nods once again. She doesn’t know if it’s pretty bad, but he wasn’t able to stand up for several minutes at least. It’s still something.

“How would you feel about fighting against him again?” Lucy asks. “I know he’s a friend of your brother but…”

“I’ll do it as many times as I need if it means you will be safe” Ona doesn’t hesitate to answer.

There is a moment of silence, during which they share a look. Ona is determined and very certain of what she just said. She would give her life for Lucy, so she doesn’t mind a single second fighting against her district’s partner.

Lucy, on the other hand, gives the impression to Ona that she’s looking for something special in her eyes. But Ona let her look, not having anything to hide from her. After a moment, Lucy finally talks again.

“And then the two girls. We don’t know if they are together, but we can guess they are.”

“Haven’t you seen them at one point?”

Lucy shakes her head to answer no.

“They might be hidden somewhere. They haven’t killed anyone for now.”

“Could they be in the desert? That’s what we wanted to do with Teagan, we were almost sure that no one will come for us there”

“Maybe…” Lucy answers slowly, looking by the entrance of the cave. “I know there is an oasis somewhere, if they found it it’s probably the safest place in the arena.”

“How do you know that?” Ona frowns.

“I went to it at the beginning”

Lucy shrugs and Ona frowns. Lucy asked her a lot of questions about her adventure until they met again, but Ona sometimes feels like she doesn’t want to talk about hers. Which is a little strange in Ona’s eyes.

Ona stands, pretending to be looking for something in their bags. She doesn’t like that feeling in the bottom of her stomach. And it has nothing to do with the kick she received during her fight.

“You never told me”

Lucy shrugs one more time before answering, still sitting on the ground.

“I went with Declan. We just wanted to see what was there.”

Ona hums only, her back turned to Lucy. The brunette catches easily that something is disturbing Ona, only by the other girl’s behavior. Ona usually never hides her eyes to her, or even her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lucy asks.

“Nothing.”

But Lucy knows better. Rather than letting it go and talking about something else, she gets up to press her front against Ona’s back, passing her arms around Ona’s waist. Her chin is on Ona’s shoulder when she talks again.

“Ona, what’s wrong?”

Ona sighs softly. She knows she’s probably stupid about her reaction and she’s a little bit ashamed, to be honest. But Lucy is waiting patiently for her answer, and she finally opens her mouth again.

“It’s just… Sometimes I feel like you are hiding something from me. I don’t like it.”

She knows she’s right when Lucy bites her bottom lip before answering. Ona turns her head as good as she can given their position, looking for Lucy’s green eyes. When Lucy stays silent, Ona talks again, whispering this time.

“What happened?”

Lucy sighs at her turn, letting Ona go. The younger girl doesn’t like the way her body suddenly seems very cold without Lucy’s embrace. She squeezes her arms around her body, looking at Lucy.

“It’s just that I have to do some things. And I’m scared that if you know them it will change how you see me.”

Ona tilts her head, searching for Lucy’s eyes. Lucy seems so tense that it scared her. Suddenly she’s not a tribute at the Hunger Games, she’s just a girl waiting for the love of her life to admit what fault she did when they weren’t together.

“Like I told you, I had to do things and play a role at the beginning. I needed people to think that I just wanted to win and that we weren’t even friends you and me”

Ona nods, waiting more or less patiently about the end of Lucy’s confession.

“To show people that I was really into it, I had to kill. A lot of people. In fact, after killing Seth, I’m the one with the higher number of murders.”

“Oh…” Ona breaths.

She wasn’t expecting this to be honest. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, to be honest. But Lucy is still looking at her feet, not able to look up at Ona. So, the younger girl approaches her, kneeling a little bit to have their eyes at the same level.

“Lucy, it’s okay. You did it for us. You didn’t have the choice”

“I didn’t” she repeats. “If I had… I just needed to be with you again.”

“We are now”

“Yeah”

Ona smiles softly at Lucy, who smiles almost shyly back. She doesn’t like to be seen as weak or something, but the way Ona cups her face to kiss her makes her feel lighter than ever. She still doesn’t understand what she did to find a girl as sweet and kind as Ona.

The morning after, they decided to sort out their things to know what to take with them in their backpack and what to leave in the cave. They let some food they know would be damaged in their bag during the day, for example. Ona is never leaving her hoodie under her jacket, loving the soft feeling against her skin.

They take their weapons of course, the medical kits and the most important things to survive.

“Okay, let’s go” Lucy says, looking at the fire behind them.

Ona is looking at the cave with a little pout. She feels like they won’t come back, and it makes her a little sad. It’s once again a memory of her history with Lucy where she probably won’t be able to come again.

Easily understanding what Ona is feeling, Lucy smiles softly and passes her arm around Ona’s shoulders.

“Come on, Love. It will be okay”

She kisses Ona temple before taking her to go down the mountain again. Ona let her do, blushing softly at Lucy’s surname. It’s the first time she calls her something like that. Of course, she loves it.

They decided to go to the desert, Ona hoping not to cross someone else’s path during this. Or at least someone they can kill easily. They walk silently, just in case. Ona asked Lucy if she saw the wolves too, but the older woman answered negatively. But it seems to her that one of the tributes died because of the wolves. The idea made Ona shivers.

Lucy is walking first; Ona really closes behind her. She has to fight against Lucy to prevent her not from carrying all the heavy things. Ona is really scared that Lucy’s stomach will start bleeding again. She changed Lucy’s bandage before leaving, putting the old one in the fire.

The walk is pretty long, it seems that there is only one bridge to cross the breach. And that it is far away from where they are.

“It’s weird that we haven’t crossed anyone’s path” Ona mumbles at some point.

“Yeah” Lucy answers. “I think they used the fog to make people come closer to each other, I wouldn’t be surprised if they do something similar soon.”

Ona hums. She doesn’t really like the idea. The last time she had time with Teagan to leave, but it wasn’t the case for Lilith. Her death might have been harsh If Ona remembered correctly the screams of pain that she lets go before dying.

When they finally reach the bridge, Ona takes a last look behind her before crossing it, still behind Lucy. As soon as they arrive on the other side, the heath strikes them hard.

“What the fuck” Ona says, instinctively tying her hair.

Lucy smiles when she hears and sees Ona. Then she looks around, trying to remember where she went with Tony.

“I’m pretty sure the Oasis isn’t that way” she says, pointing somewhere right in front of them. “That’s where we went with Declan. Maybe we should go there?”

Ona nods, not having anything to say. She never came here before. The heath and the sand everywhere are very impressive, to be honest. But if they find the oasis, they could have something very interesting to have.

Still walking, Ona looks at Lucy’s neck and the drop of sweat running slowly on her skin. The sun is still high in the sky, which is a good thing because it means they still have a lot of time before the night. But they are still very hot because of the sun too.

“Are you okay?” Ona asks Lucy for the thousand times since they left.

“I am” Lucy answers patiently. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

They walk for some time more, seeing nothing around them other than sand and blue sky, until…

“This is the end of the arena”

Ona raises her head to look where Lucy is pointing. She doesn’t see anything at first, until she finally sees something looking like mini light blue lightning running in front of her eyes.

“We turn around?” Ona proposes.

Lucy bites her lips, thinking for several seconds before answering.

“I don’t know. If we do that, we will lose time and maybe we won’t find the oasis. But at least we know where we are exactly.”

“We were coming from the east to west. We just had to look at the sun to know where to go back” Ona shrugs.

There is a moment of silence, Lucy looking at Ona blankly for some long seconds, before answering.

“You know how to find your way with the sky?”

Lucy’s amazement is easily audible in her voice when she asks that question. But Ona just shrugs before smirking.

“I thought you would be able to do it too, aren’t you the one coming from the best fisherman’s family of Panem?”

Lucy rolls her eyes and smiles.

“I have nothing from the Bronze. And we have a compass and that kind of thing.”

They are walking next to each other now, softly bumping into each other from time to time while talking. There is nothing around them and they would easily see if someone else was here.

But they have to admit at some point that finding the oasis is harder than they thought. The sun is now hiding behind the horizon, gradually plunging them into the night.

“Do you want to take the torch?” Lucy asks Ona.

“I don’t know. Is this not going to draw attention to us?”

Ona looks at Lucy for several seconds before answering, not wanting to scare the girl.

“Are there not scorpions that come out of the sand at night?”

Lucy froze and looks at Ona, her eyebrows softly frowned. It’s something they learned during the survival courses, but to be honest, Lucy completely forgot about it.

“You are right…” Lucy answers slowly, before opening her eyes wide. “Wait, what is on your arm?”

Frowning at turn, Ona looks at her arm. A scorpion. There is a scorpion on her arm.

Next chapter (Coming soon...)

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy and ona #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy bronze imagine #woso x hunger games

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eastwindmlk · 2 days ago

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This month's @jilychallenge took a while to get started but when I had the idea this morning it came through!

Prompt: “everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” “isn’t it for you, too?” & the trope Fake dating I only really focused on the second one. Partner: @annabtg AO3

She could have picked any time to ask him a favour, honestly, there would have been plenty of times better than rushing this between classes. But her Intro to Alchemy class was right next to his Ancient Runes and it made sense to walk together. It made sense to fill the silence with idle chatter, the weather, their class and inevitably the Hogsmeade trip that weekend.

Lily sternly reminded herself that there was no time like the present. Especially because it was already damn near impossible for her to catch a moment without Sirius in earshot. So, she sucked in a deep breath through her teeth, which faltered their steps. “You alright, Evans?” James asked at the sound and presented her with the opportunity.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice flipping unconvincingly, and an awkward smile made the corners of her lip jump up. “Yes,” she said again, this time more firmly, before rushing into her next words before James could get a remark in. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for advice, rather an insight.”

James’ eyebrows slid up towards his hairline and he nodded slowly. “An insight? Into what?” he replied, his curiosity carefully measured, as if she had not learned to read him like her favourite book over the past few months.

Lily wrung the strap of her bag, hoping to dispel some of the nervous energy that settled in her fingers. “Well, I was thinking of asking Sirius to go to Hogsmeade with me. Think he’d be keen?” The words stumbled out of her mouth clumsily, an uneven rhythm that betrayed her uncertainty. Still, her gaze did not waver from his face.

So, she saw his eyes narrow and the smile on his lips grow tight while he processed her words. She watched James run his tongue over his teeth under his lips before nodding curtly. “I reckon he’d be keen, you two are mates,” he answered after, what she assumed was him assessing her intention behind her question.

“I wasn’t going to ask as mates, though,” she pointed out and watched the mildly amused mask slip for a moment.

His jaw tight, teeth clenched as James smiled back at him. “Didn’t know you fancied him like that,” he remarked, his tone flat.

“What’s not like?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know if he’s keen but…”

“But what?”

They paused at the door of his classroom and they peered inside to see Sirius already in his seat. “But nothing,” James muttered, his shoulders slumping as he deflated. “I’ll check with him, alright? See you for rounds.”

“Not if I see you first,” Lily shot back with a bright smile, her fingers brushing along his sleeve before grabbing his hand and giving it a brief squeeze. Only to turn away before he could react.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Come evening, Lily stood waiting for rounds when around the corner came, not her Head Boy. She tried to not be disappointed at the sight of Remus, she liked him, and it would hurt him to see her be less than glad to see him. But she was disappointed. “He wasn’t feeling up for it?” she asked when she fell into step with him.

“He’s been…”

“Moping?”

“You could say that,” Remus said with a scoff and an affectionate smile on his face. “Care to tell me why James is being a miserable sod, or should I guess?” He gave her a side-eyed glance and a bump with his hip, trying to encourage her to say something.

Lily just hummed and shrugged while pulling a face. “Nothing that didn’t need to be done,” she answered, a smug smile playing around her lips. “So, neither of them said anything to you then?”

Remus stopped and grabbed her hand when Lily didn’t to tug her around. “Neither?”

Well, shit. “Freudian slip,” Lily said, her lips pressed into a thin line. She made an attempt to pull him along to continue their rounds. Remus wouldn’t budge. He just dug in his heels and let her attempt to move his dead weight. “Oh come off it!” she complained, trying to put all of her weight into pulling.

“Tell me,” Remus said calmly, letting his hand go slack, and she could feel her fingers slip. Lily was forced to put her efforts to move him on pause. “How bad can it really be?” At that, Lily clicked her tongue and decided to completely give up on making him move; Releasing Remus’ hand to tuck hers under her armpit, hugging her own chest with a sour expression on her face.

Lily jutted her head towards the empty hallway, her eyes darting around the collection of paintings—One more willing to wag their tongue than the next—and hoped that Remus would understand.

Reluctantly, Remus followed and walked beside her in companionable silence while they rounded off the first floor.

They were stuck on a staircase that decided to move while they were on it when she spoke. “I asked James to ask Sirius to come to Hogsmeade,” she explained, her head moving from side to side as she made her confession.

“Is that it?” Remus chuckled and she didn’t need to look to know he was wrinkling his nose in amusement.

The laugh died when she added: “As my date.” The silence that followed was heavy, filled with shock and confusion. It lasted long enough that Lily was irked by the way it made her nervous and decided to shoot Remus a glare.

He was clearly trying to work out what to say, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. So, she gave him a moment to recover and climb to the top step, waiting for the stair to connect once more.

“Well,” Remus eventually started, his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth while he, again, mulled over his words. “That is not something I expected to hear.”

Lily deadpanned and breezed out through her nose. “If Potter wanted me to go with him, he should have asked,” she said casually, a knowing smile spreading across her lips. Which did not go unnoticed by Remus who only had to raise a brow to entice the words out of her. “I’ve asked him out at least five times now and he somehow always misconstrues my intentions. So, I decided to give him a little nudge.”

“By asking out his best mate?”

“By having his best mate stand me up and be forced to finally take me on that bloody date himself,” she corrected and watched as Remus’ attitude pivoted from shocked to impressed.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

The morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Lily’d made sure that she was early just in case James decided to head out before everyone else. She was standing reading as she leaned against a pillar in the courtyard, huddled in her cloak against the morning chill when he passed her by.

“Big plans?” Lily asked from the shadows and watched James jolt in surprise, turning to look where her voice had come from. She flashed him a smile and stepped into the early afternoon light.

James offered her only a polite smile, eyes making a quick sweep from crown to sole, no doubt taking in her date outfit. A dress she knew he liked, she’d caught him staring at her in it several times. It had been a deliberate choice, and she was glad she made it when she watched him gulp. “No, just a quick trip. Nothing special,” he said with a shrug.

Lily smiled softly and hummed. “Picking up some supplies?”

“That’s the plan.” He nodded and he jumped up to his hair to smooth it back. “What about you? Have anything special planned for your date?” It was clear that he was uncomfortable asking this, but he really was doing his best to be a good friend.

This realisation almost made Lily cave and confess the plan to him, but they were so close. All she had to do now was deliver the hook. “Oh just, you know, date things. That is if Sirius hasn’t overslept too much. Was he on his way when you headed out?”

James’ expression shifted the instant she asked her question. “No? Was he supposed to be?”

Lily just nodded and hummed innocently, like she didn’t know this was going to happen. “We were supposed to meet fifteen minutes ago.”

He blinked a couple of times, turned to the castle and then back at Lily before petting his pocket, presumably for the super secret mirror only everyone knew about.”Are you sure? Cause he was still in bed when I left.”

“Yeah, pretty sure we said ten,” she told him, forcing the corners of her lips downward, making a real attempt to look disappointed. “I’m sure he’s just forgotten the time and is rushing now,” she said optimistically, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be there for at least another forty-five minutes to check if things worked out.

James’ brows knit together while his focus shifted between her and the bridge leading to town, his teeth massaging his bottom lip. “You know what? How about we wait for him to show over a butterbeer?”

“I thought you wanted to be quick?”

“Well, I also want my best mate to not be an arse but seems like I won’t be getting my way today regardless. So, I’d rather spend it with good company.”

“You don’t have to chaperone me, I’ll be fine,” Lily protested, mostly for posterity.

James laughed at this and offered her his arm. “It’s no bother, I hate seeing you disappointed.”

She gladly hooked his arm through his, letting herself be pulled closer, leaning into him as they started down the path to the village. “So, you’re my substitute date then?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I could be if you’d want me to be.”

Lily fell silent for a moment, letting the words hang between them as she worked up the courage to say the words. “I’d love a real date with you.”

They stopped suddenly, James pulling her to a halt so abruptly she nearly pulled out of his grip. “Do you mean that?” His voice was smaller than she’d ever heard it before, uncharacteristically uncertain.

“Yes.” was all the answers she could give him, all the answers he should need.

The crease between James’ brow deepened, the look in his eyes intense. “Then why didn’t you just ask me?”

A pained smile painted across Lily’s lip, recognizing the pain behind the words. “I did. I have. You just…”

“All those times? The last trip? The lake? The library?”

Lily nodded as he listed several of her attempts to do something romantic with him, and he’d assumed it had been just her being friendly. “All those times,” she confirmed, her shoe scuffing the cobbles.

James raked a hand over his face and groaned. “So, then, why ask Sirius?”

“To get your attention,” she replied simply, matter-of-factly. “If you’d think we’re dating, if you’d think that he stood me up you’d do… Well, this.” Lily motioned vaguely between them and the world around them.

James sucked his teeth and looked away, clearly frustrated. “It worked,” he muttered, clearly irritated.

She stepped forward, closing the space between them, and lifted her hand to cradle his cheek. A rush of warmth crashed over her when he immediately leaned into her palm, his eyes closed. “You are both the worst,” he complained as he turned his head to kiss her palm.

“Bad enough to not want that date?” she questioned, her heart hammering against her ribs, fast and painful.

“No, I, shamefully, have to admit that you need to do a lot more and a lot worse than this to make me turn down a proper date with you,” he told her earnestly, his eyes soft as he looked at her again, this time feeling different.

“Then let’s go.”

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jple #jily fic #jilychallenge #november jilychallenge

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an-obligatory-blog · 3 days ago

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Thinking about this post I made again because the more I think about it, the more I am glad that Infinite was not in Shadow Generations and the more anxious I am when he finally does.

Because I have like, conjured this idea in my head of how I want Infinite to return-- something that retains what was established in Forces (including his "unlikable" aspects) while progressing his character in a way that is one 1) meaningful, 2) not a complete joke, and 3) gives incentive to use him again and not shelf him forever after one more appearance. But the more I'm convinced of my vision, the more I think "there's no way this is happening" because very often, attempts to "fix" the character comes with an inherent lack of respect to a character's current traits-- erasing instead of working with what they have. Think of past (and I guess current) sentiments of "fixing" Amy and all the discourse that was spawned from it. I feel like I have tunneled myself into future disappointment as an Infinite fan and the fandom would be less resistant to it than Amy because I feel like people are more likely to accept whatever as long it isn't carbon copy of Forces.

Which is a shame because the main flaw of Infinite in Forces, imo, isn't that he's a "fraud", but that his backstory is empty. If your definition of "fixing" Infinite is to establish an understandable reason for his breakdown and flesh out his relationship with his squad without changing any of the story beats, you did not write an AU where "Infinite but what if he's a good character". What you wrote is a legitimate interpretation of Infinite because Forces said nothing about why he had that reaction Shadow or really anything about his squad. Sonic Team could legitimately take that and not have to call it a retcon because of how little it contradicts anything since, again, the issue was that it's "empty" not "rotten". To begin with, assuming that "Infinite's motive is nothing more than a tantrum" is just as much of a presumption as someone's fic coming up the most tragic sob story for Infinite to justify the events of Forces; it just that the former is the simplest explanation to fill the holes that Forces' less than stellar writing left behind and thus, the impression he leaves on the public.

If what I described is enough to "fix" Infinite in your eyes, then you may not hate Infinite as a character as much as you may think you do. It's not like it contradicts hating Forces' writing.

And I know that's not everyone-- there are plenty of people who rather have literally anyone else as the villain, someone who isn't a "fraud" or someone who is more "badass/cool" or even someone that embraces "lameness" as a primary trait aka a joke character. The most common sentiment I find on Infinite is "he is a character with a lot of potential, so I would like to see him back with better execution", but what do you mean by "potential"? What does this "better execution" look like? It seems like an opinion that the Sonic fandom can unite under on the surface, but I think that the moment Infinite were to hypothetically return, the division between who is satisfied and who isn't will surface.

Or maybe it won't. Maybe Infinite isn't important enough worry about how much of his original self is preserved or what a natural progression with him looks like as long as its paired with writing that's more palatable to the audience. If people were to go online and fight for something more in-line with his characterization in Forces, would anyone care? Wouldn't be more likely that such sentiments are deemed stupid?

I am glad that Infinite didn't show up in Shadow Generations because he doesn't belong there. Mephiles, Black Doom, even Metal Madness-- you can argue that they represent something to Shadow, but not Infinite. It's /Shadow/ who represents something to Infinite the same way Sonic represents something to the Avatar but not the other way around. It's possible to progress Infinite in a way that changes that, but that's not happening in a story that centers Shadow and his past because Infinite has nothing to do with that. All people expected from a possible Infinite appearance is the "I don't remember you" treatment (which again, already happened in Forces) that Mephiles ended up getting-- he doesn't represent anything that Mephiles, a character who is meant to reflect Shadow down to his appearance, doesn't already.

But Infinite could always appear when SEGA feels like it-- frankly, it was harder to bring back Mephiles given that he was wiped from the timeline but look at him here now. If he comes back and his character is taken in a direction that I don't like, is that me being close-minded? His backstory is empty so his "potential" is "infinite", but is anyone, including myself, willing to accept what's outside of what we consider ideal? I'd like to imagine that my ideas for him would be something that would make us all happy, but is that even possible, much less true? Maybe those are useless questions. We can only evaluate things that exists.

Infinite isn't a character that belong to me nor do I have any semblance of authority over him but falling in love left me feeling possessive. I feel arrogant and hypocritical-- thinking that canonical material that wouldn't meet my standards is better off not existing while trying to appreciate controversial material that many would not miss. I keep doing it because if not me, who else is going to think the way I do-- hating the exact things I hate and liking the exact things I like? A lot of Sonic fans do this, I think, so at least I'm not special. It makes you feel based as hell.

late night infinite thoughts/hc/analysis

despite being clowned on for his Ls and "i'm not weak" scene, i don't think infinite particularly childish? or more specifically not in the specific brand of "pathetic sore loser" that's been memed on. like he doesn't feel like the type of character who would throw a tantrum/be visibly upset if he can help it (particularly in front of shadow since that's the guy he's pitted against).

it's not that i don't understand why he left that impression-- the way shadow dlc told his background would ofc lead ppl to feel that it was an overreaction for being kicked a couple of times, but the thing is, we saw how he reacted when he met shadow again and what he said after being told that the hedgehog didn't remember him.

(using screencaps of the jp script, but i'm p sure en is the same jist)

sure, infinite is gassing himself up in this scene because of his shiny new rock, but when i saw this scene, my immediate thought was "so you think you aren't someone worth remembering"? (which can also be extended to his squad mates who were also defeated and thus "weak", regardless if you think they are dead or not) he's not particularly angry in this scene-- if anything, he admits that shadow's words of him being a loser (and thus weak) is /fact/.

hence why i think that infinite hates himself more than he could ever hate shadow. he can hide it by saying "well that's just the old me, i've changed. look at my virtual reality of green hill" but that mask isn't just for show. past or present, he is still himself even if he pretends otherwise. he is insecure, that's true. it's also true that his ego is fragile and that it hangs on his ability to suppress others.

however, his ego isn't unshakable at the face of failure or incapable of self-reflection, even if he wishes it was. the denial phase doesn't last forever.

to put it in another way, he's not the type of sore loser who will go "the other guy must've cheated" or "it's not fair" and deny the other person of their achievement. he's the type of sore loser who becomes frustrated with himself, trains himself to exhaustion, maybe cheat himself if tempted (you'll have to convince him that it would be a meaningful victory if he does though, (re. his logic on relying on magic rock ok, but relying on friends is bad and fake, apparently)), and fall into despair if his efforts don't pay off. that's really what his "i'm not weak" breakdown really is to me-- falling into despair and eventually accepting that he is powerless.

with high ego, he may dismiss losses as a fluke, but that requires plausible deniability to be present to fall back on. my point is that his arrogance doesn't come across as stable, it's just that conquering 99% of the world would convince anyone that they are hot shit.

also, he's not bad at /hiding/ his insecurity. insecurity isn't an aspect that was just added to him in the dlc and thus "ruining" him-- he just hides it well when he started wearing the mask. he only showed a mote of desperation by the end of his final boss fight. before that, we had sonic and the avatar breaking out from null space in record time and while eggman was in shock, infinite just stared silently-- he retained a "mysterious" aura for most of the game despite multiple setbacks. his ability to hide his emotions without his mask is up to you, but at the very least, he would at least /try/ to cover up anything he deems "unsightly".

what i'm trying to say is, i think he'd be upset being called weak, but i don't think that specific "overreaction" he had in shadow dlc is just something that happens every time he's insulted, esp when his ego is in a more stable state.

why he's so fixated about strength and weakness is pure hc territory bc forces writing sure as hell didn't explain it, but i think it's safe to say that he wasn't stable before his encounter with shadow and no matter how many ppl think that his motives are "stupid", this was something that meant a great deal to infinite. why it took until shadow for the camel's back to be snapped, idk maybe something happened to him earlier or maybe not, but regardless, infinite appears to be someone who is very desperate to be proud of himself and he measures how much he is worthy of pride through "strength". those who are strong don't think of those weaker than them, to him. (re. him saying that it's fine that shadow didn't remember his past self, and following up with "you're nothing to me now" bc he believes that he is now stronger than him. also note his quirk in jp where he calls ppl "gomi" (in katakana)/trash, idk jp well i just think it's neat)

this "fraud" quality of infinite's is something i find appealing as his fan, and not in the "i think it's brilliant to have a joke character that parodies edgelords" kind of way (infinite isn't purposefully meant to be joke and i don't think he has to be in order to be "good" with his current backstory). to segway into a different conversation, i don't care of the take that "infinite should've been an artificial lifeform like shadow created by eggman" bc to be frank (and i apologize if this is too spicy of a take), i don't see the benefit to that other than to give infinite more "aura points" by erasing his backstory as a "fraud". (bc a villain that doesn't meet the "aura" threshold is bad, i guess.)

bc here's the thing, right-- there are a lot of things you can compare and contrast between shadow and infinite and create a meaningful analysis out of it, but remember that infinite is the main villain of sonic forces and that sonic forces... is not about shadow.

sonic forces, if anything, is the avatar's story. the avatar is infinite's primary foil.

shadow defeating infinite parallels infinite defeating the avatar (at the start of the game). infinite gains help from eggman and the phantom ruby while the avatar finds the Power of Friendship, Love, and Courage (tm) through sonic. infinite finding solace in "fake" power while the avatar finds "true" strength. infinite believing that he is the one who sees the reality as it is (re. his theme song lyrics), when it was the avatar who sees through his illusions.

and i really like that. idk if these are the right words, but i feel like they stand out because of how "human-like" and "relatable" compared to everyone else (esp the avatar bc they are literally an OC). with the exception of tails (who is instead offset by being a kid genius), the sonic cast is filled with characters that have stronger than average willpower, leaving the "outsiders", infinite and avatar, to play catch up in their quest to find strength. they are not unshakably confident like sonic or endlessly persistent like eggman-- they are, at their core, embody the insecurity and lack of confidence that the ordinary person is more likely to succumb to. infinite is like a bandit boss in a jrpg: has a reputation of being feared, has followers/lackeys, villain vibes, but at the end of the day, they are just the first boss the protagonist wipes at the tutorial. the avatar would be a background character in literally any story except forces. they both "extras" trying to take the spotlight that was meant for the leads.

that is why i genuinely think that his current backstory has more value narrative-wise than that hypothetical one and it's not just preference. i don't care if forces has bad writing-- infinite and the avatar starting off as "ordinary people" as a parallel is neat and i will die on that hill. (and imo this attribute makes infinite a unique villain in the sonic verse. like he's not explicitly sympathetic like merlina was or even overtly tragic like gerald, but he manages to have that pitiable, human-like quality, you know?)

but yeah this is really about him not showing up in sonadow gens. like don't get me wrong, i would've been very happy if had shown up and i did lowkey expect it when i saw sunset heights in the trailer, but i'm not mad that he didn't ngl. for the reasons listed above, i don't see infinite as a "shadow villain" like mephiles and black doom are.

#rant post #adding this tag bc i feel this is more rant-y than the og post #infinite the jackal #sonic forces #if it wasn't obvious I have strong feelings about this jackal ommmm #he's still my wet dog woof woof chew toy lolololol

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starry-carrousel · 10 months ago

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Utsushikome and the demon

#the flower that bloomed nowhere #the flower that bloomed nowhere spoilers #tftbn spoilers #utsushikome of fusai #kuroka #shiko #kuroshiko #i guess???#i hope this won’t spoil anyone but it’s pretty vague anyway #anyway the flower over kurokas face is a black lily #which can mean love or curse in hanakotoba #also yuri obviously #I don’t know if that’s how her name is written but you could write Kuroka as ‘black flower’ btw #which is what I assumed was the meaning behind it #combined with the fact that su describes herself as a ghost with no place in the world #it would add a fun new meaning to the title :)#my art

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icewindandboringhorror · 2 years ago

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Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

#which I know this could be context dependent like.. maybe you'd normally dress up but on a week that #you feel sick you wouldn't or etc. etc. - but I mean.. GENERALLY. in the most general average scenario #where you have the average amount of health and free time that you always do. etc. just based on your personality #and level of investment in these things - what on AVERAGE are you most inclined to do #also of course assume they communicate with you ahead of time and are not like planning a part last minute #like 'throw together costume in 5 hours and show up tonight randomly' or etc. I would hope that if we're going with the #AVERAGE of things - most people's friends have better communication skills than springing entire parties #on people last minute lol #assume you have like.. a few days-a week or so to prepare. however ealrly people usually start talking about #birthdays. In my experience it's usually one or two weeks ahead of time. Like 'oh next weekend' or 'oh two weeks from now' etc.#ANYWAY.. feeling a little Sick again of course but still trying to get some photos or something posted #AGAIN i promise I am not going to exlcusively post polls and ntohing else forever hgkjgnekj #I just really really love the ability to post polls and have always my whole life been obsessed with surveying people #I used to think I wanted to do that as a career somehow like.. be one of the people that does psychological interviews #or produce interview asessments for a company or etc. etc. I am always the one friend in the group thats giving out custom made #surveys or asking for other simialr stuff (did you ever take an mbti quiz? how about enneagra #m?? oh yeah I know they're not really scientifically valid or antyhing but like... DID you take them?? huh?? did you??please?? ghjj)#I simply cannot resist.. posting a little poll every once in a while.. as a treat #whilst I still fall behind on like actual content and costumes and stuff gbjhbjh #New poll adventure should be not as much of a wait as the last one was though since I already have the writing #for it really. I just have to do the ms paint sketch. hopefully no unexpected other health issues will get in the way #*** *** ***#< (anytime I do these three star patterns it is an ocd compulsion not me bleeping out words or something just ignore it lol)#(it means something secret in my evil brain just pretend you do not see it. significant only to me)#BUT YEAH.. ... poll... what type of costume party atendee are you?#:0c

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silverwhittlingknife · 2 years ago

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i have a special place in my heart for "show don't tell" storytelling, especially in comic books. comics are a visual medium!

#tim drake #jack drake #comic ref in description #this is the last panel of the comic #and something i really like about it is that i feel like... it has a certain amount of respect for the reader?#you might not notice/get the irony of the batsignal showing up behind them #and the way the batsignal foreshadows that actually this /isn't/ a resolved happy ending #because the conflict between bruce and jack - and more directly between tim's values/priorities vs. his dad's -#hasn't actually been resolved even though they're both sorry and hugging #which means the conflict will inevitably occur again and again and again #which is a very clever grace note here #but if you don't notice that's okay! the comic isn't panicking trying to spell it out for you #if you catch it it's fine and if you don't catch it that's also fine #it has something that i really like about a lot of older comics and sometimes find missing in new ones (at least the ones abt the blorbos)#which is that it assumes that the /readers/ can realize things abt the situation that the /characters/ don't #i read both tim and his dad as both perfectly sincere in this reconciliation - they're caught up in the moment #and physically neither of them can see the batsignal #but we-the-readers can see both the batsignal and the looming future conflicts it implies even though they don't #the narrative isn't telling you what to think! no character emerged to announce 'But In Fact Tim You Still Have A Problem!'#instead the artist has just left the batsignal there and let you make the obvious inferences ON YOUR OWN #similarly in nightwing 110 (another one of my favorites) there's a conversation between dick and tim where they're both lying #if you're only a nightwing reader you know dick is lying but you probably won't figure out that tim is lying (or at least not the extent)#but if you /do/ read tim's comics then you understand what's going on in a way that neither of the characters do #there's just a general understanding that the characters are not fully self-aware nor do they perfectly understand each other #plus the gradual / slow-build / layered conflict #tim's mixed loyalties between bruce and his dad are a constant background slow burn tension #dick's complicated feelings about loving tim but also feeling a little threatened by him are also a low-key thread in the nightwing comics #the writers don't need to have a surprise! sudden! fight! nor do they need all-fluff-all-the-time #instead these tensions are mostly dormant except when they get exacerbated by extreme situations #there are plenty of things that 90s comics do *not* handle well but the character voices and longform style always draw me back <3

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soracities · 1 year ago

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Hi! So I tried not to say anything about some anti makeup posts I saw on your blog but I need to say this. I think you're very wise and I agree it's very important for us to love ourselves as we are. But some people like myself doesn't care about 'empowering' of makeup or whatever but we just have fun with it and we just love it. I say we because I know there is a lot of people like me. Yeah, we are feeding capitalism or whatever, but world is beautiful and it's also terrible so people trying make themselves feel good, have fun, ect. I see a lot of people who don't wear makeup and i'm happy for them! I didn't wear makeup until i turned 20 i think and felt good.

One thing I wanted to add is in response of post about feminine girls. I think everything needs balance and sometimes people tend to overreact in their opinion and divide everything in black and white. Personally I never cared how women around me looked and what they were wearing. But I would like to have same treatment, and not to feel silly for wearing pink or feminine clothes.

Sorry, I don't know English very well so maybe I can't translate my idea entirely. What I'm trying to say i think everyone should do what they like and leave each other in peace.

Sorry for this essay, just wanted to share my point of view.

Hi, anon! I'm sorry for the delay in getting to this, but I appreciate you writing this (and your English was fine, don't worry)

I think the main argument of those posts (and my own feelings about this) is not about makeup on its own, or even judgement about who does and doesn't choose to wear it--what they are criticizing is a particular part of the society we live in which puts a huge emphasis on women's beauty and appearance in order to fulfill an idea of what a woman "should" be, and the role that makeup plays in that as a result. Because whether we like it or not, whether we believe in them or not, whether we feel pressured by them or not, these expectations do exist. How we personally respond to them does not change that.

I personally don't have an issue with makeup or the concept of it (in almost every culture on earth, humans have been using makeup of some kind for literally thousands of years)--but what I do have a problem with is when we treat makeup, or other traditionally "feminine" forms of expression as neutral things when they are not. A comb or a hair tie is neutral--it's just a thing. Lipstick and eyeliner are also just things, but only when they exist by themselves--and in reality they don't exist by themselves: they exist in a world where we value women on their physical appearance before we value them for anything else--lipstick and eyeliner exist to emphasise parts of your appearance, to make you look a certain way--and in a society where we put so much importance on women looking a certain way, they aren't just ordinary things you toy around with for fun. You can have fun with them, but it doesn't change their role. They can't be treated as exceptions from the world they are used in.

I think sometimes people assume that being anti-makeup is the same as being anti-women-who-wear-makeup, which misses the point (and also suggests a very dangerous idea which I think, sometimes, is why people respond so angrily to these criticisms: because if we believe that being anti-makeup = being anti-women, then therefore makeup = womanhood, and this is simply not true). Whether you wear these things just for fun and to enjoy yourself isn't what is being talked about because these criticisms are not about you on a personal level: they are about looking at a society that is as image-obsessed as ours, and asking why makeup has the role that it has when 1) it is almost exclusively aimed at women--women who, as a group, have been historically marginalised, and whose value, historically, has almost always been measured in terms of their beauty before anything else and 2) the makeup that is emphasized, the trends and styles that come and go, are often not so much about self-expression (if they were, people would be freely wearing all sorts of wild colours and styles: when we talk about "makeup culture" it's not the same kind of makeup used in the goth, punk, or alt scenes for example where makeup plays a very different role) but almost always about achieving or aspiring towards a type of beauty that is valued or expected: to make you look younger, to make your eyes brighter or larger, to make your lips bigger or sexier, your cheekbones more prominent etc--again, on their own, these things may not be a big deal, but they exist in a world where having these looks means you are valued in a certain way as a woman. And when this exists in our kind of world, where the power dynamics we have automatically mean women's perceived power is through beauty, and where we insist so much on women being a particular kind of beautiful (and this starts in childhood) we have to ask and investigate WHY that is--why this type of beauty and not another? why (almost only) women? who benefits from this? who suffers as a result?

The argument of "not all women" wear makeup for empowerment misses the point of these criticism, because it is focusing on a person's individual choices in a way that suggests our choices can define the world we live in, and they can't. We are deeply social animals. Therefore, how we appear to each other and to ourselves is a socially influenced phenomenon. This applies for race, for sexuality, and for gender. How women are perceived at large, in different social structures, is a social phenomenon influenced by the societies we exist in and the values of those societies. These criticisms are about the society we make those choices in and how that can affect us. For you, makeup may be something fun and enjoyable and that's fine. I'm not saying that's untrue or that people don't feel this way or that you are wrong for feeling this way. It's also not saying that you are brain-washed or oppressing yourself for it. But it doesn't change the world we live in. Someone feeling perfectly happy to go out with makeup or without makeup, and feeling no pressure to do either, is great--but it doesn't mean there aren't a lot of women who do feel pressured into wearing it, and that pressure is a social one. It doesn't change the inequality that exists between how women's physical appearances are judged compared to men's. It doesn't change the fact that almost every childhood story most kids hear (that aren't about animals) have a "beautiful princess" (and very little else is said about her except that she is beautiful) and a "brave" knight/prince/king/whichever: the princess (or maiden or whatever young woman) is defined by how she looks; the male in the story by how he acts.

It also doesn't change the fact that so many young girls grow up hearing the women around them criticize various parts of their bodies and that they carry this into their lives. It doesn't change the fact that we expect (in Western countries at least) for women to have criticisms about their appearance and they are "stuck-up" or "full of themselves" if they don't. It doesn't change the fact that magazines photos, red carpet photos, films, tv shows etc., feature actresses who are beautiful in a way that is absolutely above and beyond exceptional (and who either have had work done cosmetically, or are wealthy enough to be able to afford to look the way they do through top-class makeup artists, personal trainers etc) but who we think are within the "normal" range of beauty because faces like theirs are all that we see--how many famous actors / entertainers can you name who look like they could be someone's random uncle, or "just some guy" (writing this, I can think of 5). Now how many actresses, equally famous, can you think of that are the same? Very, very, very few.

The point of those posts, and why I feel so strongly about this, is that we have a deeply skewed view of beauty when it comes to women, because, as a society, we place so much on how they look in such a way that it is not, and was never meant to be, achievable: therefore anything that contributes to how women look, that markets itself in the way that the makeup industry does in this day and age, needs to be questioned and looked at in relation to that. No one is saying don't wear eyeliner or blush--what they are trying to say is that we need to be aware of the kind of world eyeliner and blush exists in, what their particular functions as eyeliner and blush do in the world that they exist in, that we exist in, and how this does impact the view we have on makeup as a result. Your personal enjoyment may be true to you and others, but this doesn't change the role of female beauty in the world because, again, our personal choices don't define the world in this way. Often, it's the other way around. And we cannot deny this fact because, while it may not affect you negatively, it does affect others.

I absolutely agree with you because I don't care how other women around me choose to dress or express themselves, either--that's their freedom to wear what they want and enjoy themselves and I want them to have that freedom. But my view is not the world's view, and it's certainly not the view of a lot of other people, either. I don't care if another woman loves pink and wearing skirts and dresses--but, like makeup, pink, skirts, and dresses, are not neutral things either. They're tied to a particular image of 'femininity' which means they are tied to a particular way of "being a woman" in this world. I'm not saying, at all, that it's wrong to wear these things. But I'm saying we can't treat them as though these are choices as simple as choosing what kind of socks to wear, because they aren't. They are choices that have baggage. If a woman is seen as being silly, childish, or treated unequally because she enjoys cute tops and ribbons and sundresses, that's not because we are demonizing her choices, or because being anti-makeup is being anti-woman (again, it is absolutely not): it's because we as a society demonize women for any choice. That isn't because of anti-makeup stances--that's because of sexism.

You mentioned that you want to be treated the same as anyone else for wearing feminine clothes--but the fear that you wouldn't be isn't because of the discussions critiquing makeup and other traditionally "feminine" things--it's because we live in a society where women are constantly defined by how they appear on the outside, and no amount of our personal choices will make this untrue. Whether you are a girly-girl or a tomboy, you'll always be judged. And, in reality, when women follow certain beauty standards they do get treated better--but this doesn't mean much in a society where the standards are so high you can never reach them, and where the basic regard for women is so low to begin with (not to mention the hypocrisy that exists within those standards). This is what all those criticisms towards makeup and "empowerment" are about: it's about interrogating a society that is built on this kind of logic and asking why we should insist on leaving it as it is when it does so much damage. It's saying that that if we want everyone to truly feel free in how they choose to present themselves we have to go deeper than just defining freedom by these choices on their own, and look at the environment those choices are made in. And that involves some deeply uncomfortable but necessary conversations.

Also, and I think this important to remember, views on makeup and the social place of makeup will also depend on culture and where you are, and the beauty expectations you grew up with. And when it comes to the internet, and given American dominance online, a lot of these posts criticizing makeup and the way makeup is being used to sell an idea that wearing it is "empowering" to the woman (which is basically saying: you are MORE of a woman when you wear it; you are stronger and more powerful because, in our society, beauty is portrayed as a form of power: it tells you, you can battle the inequality women face by embracing the role beauty plays in our lives but it doesn't tell you this emphasis on beauty is part of that inequality), are based on the way makeup is portrayed in mostly English-speaking Western countries. My views are shaped by what I grew up seeing, and while a full face of makeup (concealer, primer, foundation, mascara, highlighter, contour, blush, brow tint, brow gel etc) may not be daily practice or even embraced in a place like France or maybe other places in mainland Europe (but that doesn't mean they don't have their own expectations of feminine beauty), they are daily practice in places like the US and Britain, and this is what most of those posts and criticisms are responding to.

We can argue as much as we want about makeup, but when you grow up in a society where women feel the need to put on makeup before going to the gym there is something seriously wrong. Embracing makeup and enjoying makeup is one thing, but it cannot be a neutral thing when so much of it is about looking like you're not wearing makeup at all, or when we assume a woman is better qualified for a job or more professional when she wears it. It cannot be a neutral thing when a singer like Alicia Keys goes makeup-free for a red carpet event and it causes a stir online because people think she looks sick (what she looks like is normal--I would argue above normal--but wearing makeup to cover up "flaws" is so normal now that we genuinely don't know what normal skin is supposed to look like because the beauty of these celebrities is part of their appeal: they are something to aspire to). It is absolutely very normal for me, where I am, to see young girls with fake lashes and filled in brows: it's not every girl I pass, but it is enough. I'm not saying they are miserable, or brain-washed, or should be judged. I can believe that for them it's something enjoyable--but how am I supposed to see something like that and not be aware of the kind of celebrities and makeup tutorials that are everywhere on TikTok and YouTube, and that they are seeing everyday? How am I not supposed to have doubts when people tell me "it's their choice!" when the choices being offered are so limited and focused on one thing?

I never wore makeup as a teenager and I still don't, but a lot of that is because I grew up surrounded by people who just didn't. Makeup was never portrayed as anything bad or forbidden (and I don't see it like that either)--it was just this thing that, for me growing up, was never made to be a necessity not even for special occasions. I saw airbrushed photos and magazines all around me, for sure, and I definitely felt the beauty pressure and the body pressure (for example, I definitely felt my confidence would be better if I wore concealer to deal with my uneven skintone, and I felt this for years). But I also know that, growing up, I saw both sides. No makeup was the default I saw at home, while makeup was the default I saw outside. And that does play a part, not just in the choices you make, but in the choices that you feel you are allowed to make. No makeup was an option for me because it was what I saw everyday, even with my own insecurities; but if you do not see that as an option around you (and I know for most girls my age, where I grew up, it probably wasn't) then how can we fully argue that the decision you make is a real choice?

If I wanted to wear a cute skirt outside, for example, and decided to shave my legs--that isn't a real choice. And it cannot ever be a real choice, no matter how much I say "this is for me" or "I prefer it like this" because going out in public with hairy legs and going out in public with shaved legs will cause two completely different reactions. How can I separate what I think is "my choice" from a choice I make because I want to avoid the negative looks and comments? And how can I argue that choosing to shave is a freely made choice when the alternative has such negativity? If you feel pressured into choosing one thing over another, that's not a choice. Does this make sense?

This is how I feel about makeup most of the time, and what I want more than anything else is for us to be able to have a conversation about why we make the choices we do beyond saying "it makes me feel good" and ending the conversation there. Again, I'm not saying people need to stop wearing makeup or stop finding enjoyment in wearing it, but I think we tend to get so focused on our own feelings about this and forget that there is a bigger picture and this picture is a deeply unequal one. That is what this conversation is about. I hope this explains some things, anon, and if I misinterpreted anything please feel free to message me again. x

#i think in essence what i'm trying to say is that #some things are true in a microcosm but you cannot make a universal application for them bc the microcosm isn't representative of the whole #and it is dangerous to assume that it is or that it can be bc you're erasing the bigger picture when you do that #it would be like a poc saying they never felt the pressure of skin-lightening creams which is amazing but it doesnt change the fact that a #whole industry exists selling skin-lightening products BECAUSE there is a demand for them and that demand exists BECAUSE there is an #expectation that they SHOULD be used and this is because there is a belief that lighter skin = more beautiful. regardless of how messed up #and damaging that logic is that doesn't mean it doesn't exist in the world #and therefore those industries exist to maintain that belief because that belief is what drives their purpose and their profits #and we are doing no favours to the countless poc who DO feel pressured to subject their skins to these products or who come away with #a deeply damaged sense of self-worth (not to mention the internalised racism that's behind these beliefs) bc of constantly being told they #are less than for being darker than a paper bag which is RIDICULOUS #saying its all down to choice is not far off from saying you can CHOOSE to not be affected by the pressure but like....that's just not true #you can't choose to not be the recipient of colorism any more than you can choose to not be the recipient of sexism. and its putting a huge #amount of pressure and responsibility for an individual to just not be affected by deeply ingrained societal pressures and expectations whe #what we SHOULD be doing is actually tackling those expectations and pressures instead #they are leaving these systems intact to continue the damage that they do by making everything about what you as an individual think and #believe but while we all ARE individuals we dont live in separate bubbles. we are part of and IN this world together. and it acts on us as #much as we act on it. but like.....i think i've gone on enough already #ask #anonymous

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