#why does nobody talk about the consequences of this???
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mintedwitcher · 1 year ago
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The more I think about the whole Tentoo/Rose thing the more annoyed I get so I'm putting y'all through it too.
Rose didn't want to go back to Earth 2. She didn't. She spent all that time (we don't know exactly how long, but if we base it on real world timing of the seasons, at least 2 years) trying to get back to her Earth, back to her Doctor. She didn't want to go back, but the Doctor didn't even consult her about that. She was unceremoniously booted out back to the parallel Earth and told to babysit the Metacrisis Doctor, who was for all intents and purposes, essentially a biological mistake. And a genocidal one at that.
The Doctor tries to dress it up prettily for Rose, saying that "Oh well this one can be in love with you and live a human life with you, etc etc" but really, it wasn't about giving Rose a happy ending. He doesn't even say goodbye, he just leaves while she's too distracted snogging the new guy to notice (which, by the way, what the fuck?).
He also tries to guilt her into staying on Earth 2 with the Metacrisis by invoking nostalgia. "That's me, when we first met." Basically, "Get on with it, fix him like you fixed me."
It's not sweet, it's not romantic, it's not sacrificial. It's insulting.
And that's not even getting into the complexities of the metacrisis itself as a biological fact. Donna's mind started to burn almost as soon as they left the parallel earth. Human with a Time Lord consciousness. Gee, who else fits that bill I fucking wonder? So how can we actually know that Rose and Tentoo actually lived happily together? How can we know that his mind didn't start burning out as well? He's human. He's got one heart, no regenerative abilities, a human lifespan, and a Time Lord consciousness. He didn't have another Time Lord around who could block/erase the memories.
So, not only did the Doctor lock Rose away on a parallel Earth with no way back, against her wishes and with no thought whatsoever to the consequences, but he also locked her away with a version of himself that most likely died horribly and painfully very shortly afterwards.
And all of that, just to avoid guilt. To avoid accountability for what he had created.
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powdermelonkeg · 1 year ago
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Important rules/tips I've learned as an adult that helped with anxiety
If people are mad at you, it's their responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess
If they're mad at you in secret anyways, they're the ones in the wrong, not you
If people don't like what you're doing, it's their responsibility to tell you
If they say it's fine when it's really not, they're the ones in the wrong, not you
People are allowed to be wrong about you
If they are wrong about you, wait for them to bring it up, because if you try to, you will inevitably overcorrect
Some people are committed to misunderstanding you. You will not win arguments against them. Yes, even if you explain your point of view. They do not care. Drop it
The worst thing that will happen from a first-time offense is being told not to do it again. Maybe with a replacement if you broke something
You can improve relationships and gauge willingness to talk to you by giving compliments. It's like a daily log-in bonus and nobody thinks twice about it
Most things are better after you sleep on them
Most things are better after you have a meal
Most things are better after you shower
Your brain makes up consequences that are irrational. If the worst DOES come to pass and someone acts like they do in your head, they are overreacting, and you are entitled to say "what the fuck"
If your chest hurts after you feel like you've made a social error, that's called rejection-sensitive dysphoria. It means your anxiety is so bad that it's causing you physical pain, which is a good indicator that you're overreacting. Tense yourself, hold it for 20 seconds, let it go, then find a distraction
If you're suddenly angry at someone after you feel like you made a social error, that's also rejection-sensitive dysphoria. You are going to feel annoyed about it for awhile, but being genuinely pissed off is your anxiety trying to find something to blame to take the responsibility off your shoulders, and getting scared because it can't justify itself. Deep breaths, ask yourself how much you ACTUALLY want to be angry at that person, then find a distraction
"Sour grapes" is more healthy for you than stewing. Deciding you don't like someone who's perpetually annoyed with you, won't talk to you, etc. makes letting go of anxiety over them easier
If people don't like you, they will find reasons to be annoyed with you when they otherwise wouldn't. If people do like you, they will find reasons NOT to be annoyed with you when they otherwise would. People do not ping-pong between the two
You DO have to make a conscious choice not to think about something. If you're having trouble circling back to it, say out loud that you're done thinking about it and why. Then find a distraction
When you're upset, part of you is going to want to make false bids for attention (suddenly texting differently, heavy sighs, etc. but when someone asks you about it, you tell them it's nothing). Do not listen to it. You gain nothing from it except more misery
People like to help people they care about. It makes them feel good about themselves
If you think you're insufferable for needing help, see above. Yes, really. They get a serotonin kick from it
If you think you're insufferable for mannerisms you have, you either have to consciously choose not to do them, or accept that they're part of the package that comes with you. Being apologetic about existing does nothing except make you more miserable
If you do things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it makes it easier to do them when you hate it
If you avoid things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it reinforces and magnifies how bad it feels when you hate it
Seriously. Read those last two points again. If you can make yourself make a phone call when you've got nothing to lose, you will slowly lose that panic you get when you have to make a phone call you haven't prepared for. You do have to CONSCIOUSLY take that step
Hobbies that make you care for something get rid of that nagging feeling that you're not doing enough. Go grow some rosemary
If you don't engage with your hobbies regularly, you will feel miserable, and anxiety will spike
Hobbies are things that give you a bit of happiness. They do not have to be organized or named to do that. Go be creative in something. Play with coins. Make up lists. Start a new WIP
No one cares what you look like
If people point out things they don't like about how you look unprompted, they are being rude. You are entitled to say "what the fuck"
People who like you will find you pretty to some degree. Minor things about your appearance go completely unnoticed. Literally, scars and dots and blemishes do not register to someone who likes your company
You looking at yourself in the mirror is 10x more closely than anyone is going to look at you
If you're anxious about your body type, and you're creatively inclined, make/write an oc with that same shape. Give them nice things and make other characters love them. Put them on adventures. You'll start to see yourself in the mirror more kindly
You care about wording and perfect lines/colors way more than anyone who views your work ever will
Sometimes when you're upset, you're going to feel like not eating. Do not do that. Not eating makes you more miserable
Same with things you normally enjoy. Denying yourself helps no one. You are punishing yourself for being sad. Stop it
Both of these will take conscious decision to break the habit of. Make yourself do it anyways, and it will slowly get easier
And again, to reiterate: If someone is mad at you, it is THEIR responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess
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go-fornicate-yourself · 3 months ago
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Every day I am in the trenches fighting for my life defending this poor man. He was going through so much and people online demonize him and say he's as bad as his abuser
(I've got a lot of thoughts about this so I'll make sure to separate things to make it easier to look at lol)
Curly is a victim of abuse. Jimmy is his abuser. This is something that I feel a lot of people tend to brush over or don't acknowledge it often.
And I'm not just talking about post-crash. Jimmy's abuse of Curly is there pre-crash too. The party scene where the crew learns about the company going under is a huge example of this. Jimmy verbally abuses him, he gaslights him, he blames him for their (his) misfortune. Jimmy accuses Curly of thinking he's better than everyone (better than him), that he doesn't care about them (about him). That he's going leave them (leave him). Which is not true. Curly tries to explain himself but Jimmy shuts him down and he just takes it.
The fact that he just allows this to happen makes it seem like he's used to this... That this kind of behavior is a recurring thing with Jimmy. And the fact that nobody else tries to defend him or stands up to Jimmy just normalizes it for him. When Anya tells Curly what Jimmy did it catches him off guard. Bc he genuinely didn't think that his friend was capable of that. It wasn't something that was obvious to him. There were absolutely many red flags in the past but they were subtle enough for him to not see them bc he cares for Jimmy, he trusts him. Jimmy's the only one he feels he can open up to, who he can let his guard down with. Jimmy's his home. That's how close they are.
Because of this deep love for his friend and the subtlety of Jimmy's cruelty, he doesn't see the constant verbal and emotional abuse as what it is: abuse. Which is why he finds Jimmy's abuse towards Anya so shocking and jarring.
He isn't a man covering for his rapist friend bc of the 'bro code'. It does look like that from a certain angle and it's understandable why people see it that way but that's not what his character is really about as much as it makes sense otherwise.
He's essentially a battered housewife who's still in love with her husband but is realizing for the first time that the man she loves is a monster. That the man she loves and devoted her life to has been hurting her this whole time and she didn't even realize it. That the man she loves and spent so much of her life caring for has gone and hurt someone else. That he's most likely hurt others before and she's been utterly unaware of it the entire time she defended him and made excuses for him when he wasn't the best or the fairest or the most responsible or when he screwed up yet again solely bc of how much she loved and cared for him.
And Curly barely had any time to process ANY of that before Jimmy decided to try and kill them all to avoid the consequences of his actions. It was ultimately a selfish act even if he thought he wasn't just doing it for himself. Jimmy is selfish and needs to be in control or he loses it. He cares for Curly. He loves him. Curly's done so much for him. Curly's the only one who understands him, who doesn't hate him. Curly's his home. He resents how 'successful' he is but that's only bc he thinks so highly of him. He constantly puts himself down and put Curly on a pedestal and worships him while simultaneously mistreating him.
He treats his best friend like shit, he's awful to him. But he's not aware that this is the case or maybe he's in denial about it. He can't or just refuses to see how he's doing all of what he does for himself in the end. He justifies his attempt to kill them all (to himself and to Curly) by claiming he's doing this for them both. That if they were to get back to earth it would all be Curly's fault, that it'll ruin his life and career... despite the fact he had basically nothing to do with Anya's abuse. Jimmy's shifting the blame on him while acting like he cares for him. Well, he does genuinely care for him but clearly not nearly enough to not mistreat him or use him as a scapegoat for his own guilt.
Jimmy is the rapist, Jimmy is the one who does all of these horrible things. And yet it's highly likely that Curly would just blame all of it on himself bc that's exactly what Jimmy did to him. He's in so deep he can't see the facts of the situation.
It takes abuse victims so long to come to terms with their abuse. It takes time and reflection to see things with an unbiased and healthy perspective. Abuse (especially years of it) isn't just something you can just escape. It consumes you and can twist your reality. Curly had about a week or less to process all of it and then take action in a way that protected his crew and abided by Pony Express' guidelines. Dealing with something this serious in a setting that makes resolving it extremely difficult in a practical sense is already hard.
There were no locks on any of the doors except for medical and the cockpit. They couldn't just kill him. There was nowhere they could detain Jimmy that wouldn't involve corporate potentially penalizing the entire group. They could have used the cryopods but then there'd only be three available for any actual emergency and there were already five crew members and four pods in total. Also, I doubt corporate would be 'okay' with them using the cryopods for anything other than their intended purpose. Hell, even if they were able to make it back to earth without any incidents there's a good chance that corporate would consider the situation 'poor team synergy' and collectively punish the entire crew for Jimmy's actions.
So on top of having to deal with an already difficult situation, Curly has to grapple with the realization that Jimmy a: abused Anya, b: has been abusing him as well (for a very long time too), and c: has probably abused others before Anya and he had no idea about it. He needed to act but he didn't and it doomed all of them.
But it's so unrealistic (maybe even cruel) to put that much pressure on someone, force them through an utterly earth-shattering realization, and then expect them to do the correct/right/responsible thing in that moment. It's a little ironic how people vilify him for that when other characters do the same thing that nobody blames for it.
Anya is the ship's nurse. Curly is the ship's captain. They both have duties and responsibilities on board the Tulpar. She has to keep the crew healthy and safe and is the only one with enough medical knowledge to do so. He has to make sure that everything goes well and goes according to procedure. He's responsible for the crew, the cargo, and even the ship itself. Both positions are integral and require a lot of responsibility to do properly
They're both put through distressing and traumatic situations where due to them being human people with emotions and fears that make them essentially avoid their responsibility/doing what's required of them.
Curly has a freeze response and doesn't act when he should have when it was crucial to have done so. Anya has a fawn response and essentially puts her patient in danger and harm's way. She knew full well what Jimmy was capable of. She experienced it herself and she witnessed it happening to Curly as well. And yet she allows Jimmy to be alone with Curly while being fully aware of how dangerous he is. Which she shouldn't have, that wasn't the 'right' thing to do. Keeping him safe was her responsibility.
But Anya's human. She's going through a lot at the moment. She's terrified of Jimmy and she's trying to appease him so he doesn't hurt her again. It's a natural very understandable thing to do even if it's not the 'right' or 'responsible' thing. They failed each other when they needed each other most and I think that's the most tragic part of it. If anything, all of them failed each other in some way, shape, or form.
So it's incredibly frustrating to see people give Anya so much sympathy and grace for doing something so human yet still 'wrong' but then turn around and give Curly none of that for doing essentially the same thing she does.
I don't know for sure if it's actually because Curly is a man or if it's only part of it or maybe some people just lack that sense of awareness but it's depressing and frustrating as fuck as a male victim of sexual violence and abuse to see this kind of behavior and this much victim blaming towards a character who is undeniably a victim of abuse like I am.
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child-of-the-danube · 4 months ago
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The more I think about Lilia, the more I want to just give her a hug, wrap her in a warm blanket and take care of her.
She's a woman that comes from medieval royalty. We're well aware that that means she wasn't viewed as anything more than a piece of nice furniture. If she acted any way out of the limit that the customs allowed her to as a woman, there would be consequences. And she for sure did cause, turns out, she's a witch that can see the future. Present day Lilia is being called weird by people who share her craft and understand her abilities, imagine what 16th century folks thought of a girl spouting seemingly nonsense and getting lost in her own head all the time. And then the nonsense the girl was spouting actually happens?? They must have thought of her as the devil. And since we're mentioning the Devil, who has royalty notoriously been besties with for centuries? The church. Who has the church never liked? Witches.
Then came the plague, then the witch hunts, her coven(s) gone, her abilities waining with her sisters gone, the world around her changing in every possible way except when it came to the reality of being a woman and a witch, and finally came modern age where her abilities don't leave her many options other than to turn them into a job that is widely considered a scam. She was truly fucked from the start.
And I think that's why she probably understands Agatha the best out the coven (aside from Rio) and has softened up to her, even if some doubts still linger. She knows what having those you once deemed closest to you become your enemies feels like. And she knows what it means to have nobody believe you even after you proved you were telling the truth time and time again.
Sometimes baby girl is just a 450+ year Sicilian weirdo. Lilia, my beloved, I would burn whole cities if it meant keeping you warm 💛
Edit: I noticed that the only person who's name Rio uttered in the show, other than Agatha, is Lilia. Which, yeah, she might have picked up with time, but I'm more inclined to believe that Rio knows Lilia well, given how often Lilia talks about death. How many times did Rio come and expect to take Lilia, just for her to make it out alive?? Does she find her a bit formidable for having escaped her grasp so many times? *explodes due to the amount of ideas circulating in my head rn*
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sosomonimagines · 6 months ago
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House's girl, part one — House x Daughter! Reader
Summary: House learns to love his daughter.
Warnings: diet talk and harassment, but nothing too in-depth
Author's note: English is not my native language. I have an idea for a saga about this, but I want to see if anyone likes it first 😭😭
Part two:
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SUNDAY
You rarely saw your father. 
By the time you were born, your parents had already divorced, and he chose to remain largely uninvolved in your life. You knew your grandparents and received some Christmas and birthday presents, but nothing that made a lasting impact. Most of the time, he lived as though he weren’t a father at all.
Yet here you were, standing in front of his apartment, holding a suitcase with a few changes of clothes. Your mother had become involved with a man of questionable character — a manipulator with a minor criminal record that included harassment. You had reported him for making comments that made you uncomfortable, but your mother, who was deeply entangled with him, dismissed your concerns as lies. Consequently, the women's police station decided to send you to live with your father, as you had no other close relatives.
You knocked on door 221B and waited for about five minutes. “He must be trying to escape through the window, but luckily he’s limping,” you thought with a hint of irony.
“You actually came,” your father said as he opened the door.
“Sorry I didn’t choose to become a homeless person,” you replied.
He stepped aside to let you in. The apartment was surprisingly tidy, which took you aback; your mother had often complained about his disorganization. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had made an effort to clean up for your arrival.
“You’ll stay in the guest room; it’s the second door on the right.”
“Why do you have a guest room if you never have guests?”
“Sometimes, the prostitutes prefer not to sleep in the same room as me, especially when I hire many.”
“Did you know I’m only fourteen and that sexual jokes and exposure to excessive affection can damage my mind, like abuse?”
“Good thing it wasn’t a joke.”
You sighed deeply and walked to the guest room. It was a sparse space with just a bed and a dresser. As you quickly unpacked your clothes, you realized there was no suitable place to study— something you would need to address soon, especially with a math exam approaching.
“Where am I going to study?” you asked your father, who was sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey. “You’re drinking at eight-thirty in the morning?” you added, somewhat perplexed.
“Are you studying at eight-thirty in the morning?” he retorted with irony. “Study in the kitchen; there’s a table there.”
“But there’s no door between the living room and the kitchen.”
“That’s really a shame.”
“If you watch TV, the noise will distract me. I have Sensory Processing Disorder and need a quiet environment.”
“I’ll buy a desk for your room tomorrow,” he said.
“But I need to study today.”
“One day won’t make a difference.”
“It does when you want to get into Harvard.”
“You’re in middle school; nobody studies in middle school.”
“Actually, I’m in high school. I’m three years ahead.”
“Oh my God, you’re so annoying,” he exclaimed, getting up and heading to his room. “Study in the kitchen in peace. I’ll stay in my room.”
“Don’t you have to go to the hospital?” you asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” he replied, slamming the door behind him. You didn’t mind the harsh tone; you had come for a place to stay, not for a father.
•••
MONDAY
You woke up at six-thirty, the same time as your father. With two bathrooms in the house, you both managed to get ready without crossing paths.
When you met in the kitchen for breakfast, a heavy silence lingered. He served himself without offering you anything, but you had learned the previous day that if you didn’t help yourself, you’d end up going hungry.
You helped yourself to Pop Tarts and a cup of black coffee.
“Aren’t you a bit young for coffee?” your father asked.
“It’s a legal drug, and there are no age restrictions,” you replied.
He didn’t respond, and silence settled between you again. The next sound was the doorbell, followed by the creak of the door opening.
“Hey, House,” a man said as he entered. Seeing you, he paused, visibly shocked. “Is this your daughter?”
“Touché,” your father replied, his tone a blend of sarcasm and resignation.
James Wilson knew that House had a daughter and understood that, despite his reluctance, he cared about her. However, seeing you there was still a surprise.
“My name is James Wilson. I’m a friend of your father’s,” James said, extending his hand for a handshake.
“My dad has friends?” you asked, surprised, making James laugh.
“Alright, alright, that was a really funny joke,” House interrupted. “Let’s head to the hospital; I don’t want to be late.”
“You’re always late, House,” James retorted. “We’ll drop your daughter off at school first.”
“Seriously? Thank you so much!” you said, thrilled, and dashed to grab your backpack.
As you left, James turned to House. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you care about her.”
You arrived home at four in the afternoon, utterly exhausted. After studying late into the night and barely catching glimpses of your father throughout the day, you felt the weight of the long hours. Whenever he did venture into the kitchen, it was in silence, leaving you to wonder whether he was avoiding conversation or simply giving you space.
Heading straight to the kitchen, you rummaged through the sparse offerings. With little more than cereal and Pop Tarts available, you poured yourself some cereal — without milk, as there was none. As you were eating, the doorbell rang.
“Yes?” you called out, opening the door to find a tall, burly man holding a clipboard.
“Gregory House?” he asked.
“This is his house. I’m his daughter.”
“He requested that a study desk be delivered here.”
You smiled to yourself as you let the man in. He proceeded to set up the desk in your room, a small but meaningful gesture from your father.
•••
TUESDAY
You hadn’t seen your father the day before. When he came home, you were already asleep. Besides setting up the study desk, he called later to let you order some food, a small sign that he was making an effort, however minimal.
The next morning, as you both sat down for breakfast, you decided to strike up a conversation, unsure of how receptive he would be.
“How was the hospital yesterday?” you asked.
“Hmm?” he responded, looking up, surprised by the question.
“Any interesting cases?” you pressed.
“A girl with cancer having hallucinations.”
“Was the tumor pressing on the brain?” you inquired.
“No, the tumor was in the heart.”
“…A clot?” you guessed.
“Exactly.” House paused, impressed by your accuracy. He knew you were intelligent, having skipped grades and attended a prestigious school on a scholarship. However, he hadn’t realized your aptitude for medicine. “Do you like medicine?”
“A lot,” you replied. “My dream has been to become a doctor since I was nine. I attend pre-med camps, study whenever I can, read extensively about it, and watch medical shows to guess the diagnoses.”
“I enjoy doing that too,” he said, taking a sip of coffee.
“I was wondering if I could read your medical books.”
“If you can.”
“My reading level is quite advanced. I might not understand everything right away, but I’ll research what I don’t get. And my dad’s a doctor, so I can ask him about it,” you said with a sideways smile, almost catching a glimpse of a smile on his lips.
Moments later, Wilson arrived to take them out. As he dropped you off at school, House mentioned to him that you were aspiring to a medical career and were very intelligent. It was the first time Wilson saw House display genuine pride.
When you arrived home that day, it was the first time in days you could truly relax, free from looming exams or relentless homework. You took a shower and settled into the living room, turning on a cartoon — your favorite way to unwind.
As you were engrossed in an episode of The Flintstones, your father came in.
“Aren’t you studying?” he asked, surprised. It was the first time he’d seen you doing anything other than studying since you arrived. To him, it seemed you were engaged in it constantly.
“My exams are over for now. When I finish a round of exams, I take a day off. And you, why are you home early?”
“There was nothing to do.”
“Did the patient die?”
“No, he recovered.”
“Congratulations.”
“Why?”
“For not having killed him.” House wasn’t sure if you were being serious or sarcastic, but he didn’t care.
He limped over to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, and sat down next to you. This surprised you; you had expected him to retreat to his room.
“That cartoon isn’t from your era,” he remarked.
“Yes, but I prefer the old ones. Do you want to change the channel?”
“Don’t be overly nice; it’s annoying. You want to watch the cartoon and you got here first, so go ahead.”
You nodded and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Occasionally, you glanced at your father, noticing him getting caught up in the cartoon, even suppressing laughter at some scenes.
After a while, he asked, “Want to order a pizza?”
“I ate out yesterday.”
“So what?”
“My mom only lets me eat out once a week at most. She says it’s unhealthy and makes you fat.”
“Good to know your mother’s paranoias haven’t changed. I’m a doctor, and you know what’s worse than eating out? Not eating at all. Do you want pizza?”
“I guess so.”
“Then call and order it.”
You followed his instructions, ordering your favorite pizza. When it arrived, you ate it in the living room—another thing your mother would never allow. After the cartoon ended, your father switched to a medical drama. You watched in silence until, midway through an episode, he paused and looked at you.
“So, what do you think?” he asked.
“Pardon?” you replied, confused.
“Sudden and inexplicable nail disintegration, colorful and shiny mucous lesions in the mouth, temporary and recurrent inability to recognize faces, rapid and unpredictable changes in blood pressure, and intense heat sensation without fever. What is it?”
“Are you serious?"
“You said you’re good at this, right?”
You paused, considering.
“Stiff-Person Syndrome?”
“I need you to be sure.”
“Stiff-Person Syndrome. It’s a rare autoimmune condition that can lead to progressive muscle rigidity and pain, along with various neurological symptoms like motor difficulties and changes in sensory perception.”
“Great. You’re better than my team,” he said.
You watched two more episodes before falling asleep. In the middle of the night, you woke to find yourself covered and with your foot adjusted for comfort. You smiled, knowing that your father had made sure you were tucked in for a good night’s rest.
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magnecalliope · 17 days ago
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Something that I think is frequently lost in character analysis of Clown is that in spite of the popular idea that he is some sort of agent of chaos, he actually has a very rigid code of ethics that he adheres to that informs his actions and interactions with others.
First, consider that Clown held no feelings of animosity towards Pangi for eating the Kingdom's honey. He laughed about it and called Pangi a rascal for it, but he wasn't angry. To him, punishing Pangi was nothing personal, it was just a necessary consequence for his actions against the Kingdom. Consider his warning to Foolish about Owen when Owen killed Tommy. Consider his execution of Slimecicle. Owen killed Tommy out of turn, without orders from his king. But Clown executed Slime because he broke a decree by the king. This, more than his rivalry with Owen, is why he was so angry when Tubbo wanted to punish him but not Owen. They both broke Tubbo's rules, but Owen broke Clown's rules too.
Clown does not hate Pili. He told Pili that he was proud of him, that he missed him while he was gone. They weren't friends, but they weren't enemies, either. The only thing that could actually provoke Clown into fighting Pili was threats against Ros. Harming Ros requires punishment. An eye for an eye. Notice how many times during their duel that Clown stopped attacking Pili because it appeared he was having tech issues. He stopped attacking when Pili started to monologue. He did this because a fair fight is part of his ethics, but also because killing Pili was a duty that must be performed to achieve justice for his wrong. Just as any satisfaction Pangi got for his actions was irrelevant, just as Owen being an ally was irrelevant, whatever Pili got out of it was irrelevant to him. If Pili wants to have last words uninterrupted, let him. He didn't want to kill Pili, he had to.
Pili saw Clown's acknowledgement as his ticket to being respected, to being cared about, even if it's because he's a villain. And sure, people showed up, but just look at how they engaged with the fight. They made jokes. They were dismissive. Sneeg played a game of Balatro instead of paying attention. Scott changed his music away from epic battle themes to his regular music. People contemplated leaving and coming back later. It was a spectacle to gawk at for a few minutes and forget about later. They picked at his corpse for loot the second he dropped, even his own teammates. Nobody respects Pili any more for picking a fight with Clown. He died for nothing. It's almost symbolic that Pili deafened during the fight and didn't hear any of this occurring. He was so deeply entrenched in his beliefs that he was in denial of the truth even as it unfolded around him.
The things Pili wanted from Clown he already got from Pangi, and I think Clown saw that. Pangi loved and respected Pili, he was Pangi's entire world. He was the most important person on the server, his top priority. He was hurt when Pili talked about how badly he wanted to get Clown's attention. Pili's singleminded focus on Clown made him blind to that, but Clown wasn't. Clown understands intimately what a precarious position he occupies as "deadliest player" and that's not something he wishes on anyone. Being on top makes you a target not just of your enemies, but your allies too (just listen to the way Sneeg boasts that he can kill Clown if he really wanted to). He's got plenty of experience with that from Lifesteal. Pili doesn't. Clown didn't want to entertain Pili's flight of fancy that fighting him would solve all his problems. Clown's victory was hollow, but not because Pili got what he wanted. 
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alonetimelover · 1 year ago
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pairing: Ginger Spice daughter!reader x Max Verstappen (ex!Harry Styles
fc: Sabrina Carpenter
summary: YN and Max can't catch a break from her past, can they? So when the song is "leaked" another one can be as well. There won't be any consequences. Unless that past will text the unexpected person.
warnings: swearing, probably just that
a/n: Took me some time, but it is here!!!!
masterlist part 1 part 2
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yourinstagram
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yourinstagram oops! just an inchident on the race (in the studio) nonsense christmas remix somehow available right now???
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maxverstappen1 I've already bought the Santa Claus costume
⤷ yourinstagram i'll take you for a ride?
⤷ maxverstappen1 I'm available right now.
⤷ landonorris not in the public comments, GUYS
⤷ yourinstagram go away, lala
landonorris thank you for traumatising me once again... WHY DID YOU DO A REMIX?????
⤷ yourinstagram CAUSE MY MAN KEEPS ON GIVING
⤷ landonorris I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT
⤷ maxverstappen1 You asked, you got an answer.
⤷ landonorris go away, charles dickens
⤷ yourinstagram you know it's-
⤷ landonorris I DON'T WANT TO KNOW
daniericciardo Christmas dinner without Max then?
⤷ yourinstagram dad won't hear this one :))
⤷ christianhorner Too late, young lady.
charles_leclerc wasn't it supposed to be an album release?
⤷ yourinstagram too little of an inchident to somehow release a whole album, wasn't it?
⤷ yourinstagram also, can't you keep some secrets, you know, SECRET?
⤷ charles_leclerc Oh!
ynupdates WHAAATT????
ynsmybestie what in the hell is this??????
ynsmymama not yn 'leaking' a song just like harry to take the spotlight. QUEEN BEHAVIOUR.
ynshands no tthe inchident
formula1wags someone's coming for that no.1 spot
maxandyn WHY IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT THE LAST SLIDE????
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maxverstappen1
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liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1 864 320 others
maxverstappen1 Snowflakes in my stomach... Congratulations, shatje
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yourinstagram wouldn't happen without you, my love
⤷ maxverstappen1 Glad to be of help.
landonorris your welcome for taking yet another sickening photo of you two
⤷ yourinstagram sickening?
⤷ maxverstappen1 You were just scrubbed from the New Years' party list. Good job!
⤷ landonorris you wouldn't
⤷ yourinstagram but i would
danielricciardo how does it feel to be the no.1?
⤷ maxverstappen1 The usual.
⤷ yourinstagram you're so hot
⤷ maxverstappen1 Well, thank you.
⤷ yourinstagram bed.
⤷ danielricciardo NOT UNDER MY COMMENT. COME ONE GUYS
charles_leclerc when are you singing on a track?
carlossainz55 congratulations yn!
ynupdates how i love them
maxnadyn they are the best couple
ynsmybestie second photo taken after yn got that charles dickens
formula1fan94 not max posting his girl on ig???? who are you?
ynfan49 this is the support a girl needs!
ynfan299 not the stop in responses after yn called max to bed
⤷ landonorris and why would you pu those words from your brain, through your fingertips and post here?
⤷ danielricciardo are you still in love with yn?
⤷ landonorris not that again
⤷ ynfan94 LANDO IN LOVE WITH YN????? NO WAY
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redbullracing
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liked by yourinstagram, gerihalliwellhorner and 583 100 others
redbullracing This is a public announcement stating that Max Verstappen is very suitable for Christmas dinner at Horner's. Big boss please say yes
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yourinstagram i love you admin
⤷ redbullracing I love you, YN YSN
gerihalliwellhorner That was a very good try, Max!
landonorris someone's desperate!
danielricciardo i thought you swore to max to never post it??
⤷ redbullracing challenging times call for desperate measures
danielricciardo btw! it was filmed month and months ago. mx was learning all the lyrics to impress geri
⤷ yourinstagram no way!!!!! maxie
ynupdates THIS MAN JUST KEEPS ON GIVING
formula1fan85 26th day without Max win be like:
charles_leclerc when are you releasing an album?
⤷ yourinstagram next album: i sing, you play piano, max is background singer and dancer. deal?
⤷ charles_leclerc deal.
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yourinstagram christmas at horners were a blast 🎄💫
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maxverstappen1 I liked the host's daughter.
⤷ yourinstagram scandalous.
maxverstappen1 You are so beautiful.
⤷ yourinstagram falling deeper in love with you with each day
landonorris I made it not only to horner's christmas party but to yn's instagram feed????
danielricciardo jpeg account when?
gerihalliwellhorner I love a full house but never thought that they can cause that much trouble.
⤷ landonorris that broken lamp wasn't my fault, ms Geri
⤷ charles_leclerc that red stain on the couch isn't from my wine
⤷ carlossainz55 i did eat the whole cake
⤷ yourinstagram and I frank that 1952 wine
lewishamilton Thank you for inviting me and Roscoe!
sebastianvettel It was a pleasure spending Christmas with you all!
georgerussell63 I've never eaten so good in my life
ynupdates not the whole f1 grid having a Christmas together??? at horner's house???
ynsmybestie oh she looked so beautiful
comment liked by maxverstappen1
maxandyn iiiii lllloooooovvvvvveeeeee tttttthhhhhhheeeeeemmm
formula1fan93 Lewis at horner's??? wtf
ynsfan943 not yn just bringing whole grid home and destroying the house on chritians expense
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a/n: little bit of fluff with some drama and some secrets being kept. do we like it so far??
1K notes · View notes
sleepyangelkami · 1 year ago
Note
hey, I want to request a long one shot about ellie x cheerleader!reader, but ellie is like a type of emo? idk, she just use very dark clothes, accessories and she's grumpy, meanwhile the reader is the opposite, she is popular and social (she's not mean). strangers to very close friends (also about the social rejection that Ellie had). and it ends with rough smut (lmao sorry, I'm begging)
FUCK THE CHEERLEADERS e.williams
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 ☆ WORD COUNT - 7.8K
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ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER
 ☆ SUMMARY - for as long as ellie's known she's hated just about everything and everyone. she hated the school she went to and the people in it. and she hated those prissy cheerleaders. what happens when one of them starts changing her mind?
 ☆ WARNINGS - slight abby anderson x reader (briefly mentioned), smut, slowburn, dom!ellie, sub!reader, mean!ellie, manhandling, fingering (r. receiving), oral (e. receiving), scissoring, squirting, rough sex, slight loser!ellie, praise kink, overstimulation, dirty talk (mmm), jealousy sex, slight innocent!reader?, swearing, smoking, getting high, lowk bullying, ellie is an abby!hater (i'm sorry.), homophobia, petnames, use of y/n, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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ellie williams hated just about everything in the world, it seemed. it was as if a scowl had been engraved on her brows as she walked through the halls of the school. she hated a lot of things, she hated this school. but more importantly, those damn cliches. those jocks and their stupid cheerleaders hanging underneath their arms, it made ellie sick, it made her scowl deepen.
it wasn't unusual for ellie to be clad in her black beanie, black hoodie and black ripped jeans. what could she say? she liked black. with her sketchbook sitting underneath her arm and her backpack hanging from one shoulder, she managed to make her way towards the east end of the school, where her ugly red locker lay. "why the long face?"
the voice had belonged to dina woodward who stood next to jesse (does this man have a last name?) they were both hand in hand next to ellie's locker. the three had lockers next to one another, had since freshman year. the two may have been the only two people ellie tolerated at all. they were her best friends. even so, she found herself scowling at the way their hands were intertwined.
"stupid fucking cheerleaders." already, jesse was rolling his eyes while the girl forced her locker open, this wasn't the first time he's heard that. "thinkin' they run the school, give me a break with their fucking pom poms and the skirts up their asses―"
"we get it ellie." jesse rolled his eyes, shutting his locker door. "what'd they do this time?"
ellie hated the jocks enough but she knew that at least they took pride in being assholes. but the cheerleaders? they walked around school with no consequences, wearing a sugar coated smile that made them look like nothing short of angels. they hid behind the facade of being good people. at least the jocks could admit they were dickheads. the cheerleaders pretended to be something they weren't. and for some reason, it made ellie hate them even more. "what do they ever do." she mumbled. "'here's lessie williams on!' 'draw anything new today williams!' 'let us see inside your sketchbook williams!'" she fawned a high pitch voice. "Like god! it was freshman year can't anyone get over it!"
dina and jesse were conscious of the couple people that had turned their heads to look at them but they knew that one sharp glare from ellie and they'd turn away again.
you see, in freshman year nobody really knew ellie. sure, they knew her but they didn't know her. she was quiet, always sat in the back of the classroom, always scribbling something down on a piece of paper or in her sketchbook. the one thing that brought her joy, the one thing she actually enjoyed doing was drawing.
and they ripped it away from her.
stupid stephanie meadows, who, in all her glory, decided to rip the sketchbook out of her hands and show the rest of the cheerleaders what the girl had been drawing. she had meant it as harmless teasing, ellie was sure. but the girl just so happened to be drawing some... female anatomy.
then birthed the name lessie williams.
she hated those damned cheerleaders ever since.
"i'm really sorry, ellie." jesse wore a sympathetic look as his brows furrowed lightly. there really wasn't anything they could do. they would stand up for her but that'd only drag them down. ellie understood this, she didn't expect anything from them. "that sucks."
but ellie didn't respond to his sympathy or his pity, merely slamming the locker door shut. "man, fuck the cheerleaders." her infamous catchphrase. she wore it out, used it every single time those damned cheerleaders were around. every time, there was venom laced in her voice. she didn't just hate them, she loathed them entirely.
but as soon as the venomous words slipped from her mouth, there was a sound of honey laughter that invaded her ears. "hi, dina!" there you stood, a sweet smile attached to your lips as you passed the three. you had two maybe three folders tucked in your arms, light purples and pinks with your name in big writing. y/n l/n.
"hi, y/n." it was merely a greeting in passing but ellie's blood boiled. her eyes fell on your outfit. your cheerleader outfit. the outfit was black and white, long sleeved but tight, showing off all of your curves and giving you all the attention that you didn't want. your skirt was short, too short, flimsy material showing ellie all that she shouldn't see. you had a light pink bow sitting at the top of your half up half down ponytail, curled hair falling behind your back. the colour of the bow matched your cheer leading shoes which were white but had pink stripes through them along with your baby pink leg warmers. you were the only cheerleader with a bit of colour.
you left ellie's sight as soon as you came, she turned to dina with a look of poison in her eye. "what? are you guys friends now? you gonna join the cheer squad?"
jesse took a step back, muttering something about not getting involved. he was well aware of what happened last time. ellie's wrath was not something you wanted to get involved with. "no, ellie, i'm not going to join the cheer squad." dina was rolling her eyes over the stupid encounter. "she happens to sit next to me in biology and i was saying hello."
"yeah, to y/n fucking l/n." everyone knew who you were, the prissy cheerleader who always wore smiles for everyone she met. often times being tucked under the arm of the captain of the girl's soccer team, abby anderson.
dina wasn't having it. "she's never actually said anything to you, ellie, she's never even been there when it happened and i'm sure if she was, she'd say something about it. she's really nice once you give her a shot."
ellie could have laughed in dina's face. "you're kidding." she was a cheerleader. "they're the same, every single one of them." and could you blame the girl for being so defensive? after all, it was her that got the horrid bullying and harrasment for so many years, not dina, not jesse, ellie. they didn't know what it was like to be in that ring of fire, they hadn't the slightest idea. "you know what, fuck this, i'm going to class."
dina was rolling her eyes. "ellie!" but the girl didn't turn around, holding her bag and her sketchbook close. "ellie, c'mon, don't be like this!" but she never spared her a glance.
jesse puffed out a breath. "just leave her." he mumbled to the girl next to him. "she'll be back."
and she was back. she was back before lunchtime. you see, that was the thing about having little to no friends. for ellie, dina and jesse, it didn't matter what was going on. whether dina was arguing with ellie, whether jesse and ellie were in a scuffle, whether dina and jesse were on their hundredth break. truth was, they only really had eachother. so, no matter what was happening, their lunch times were spent together at their separate round table in the cafeteria.
ellie was picking at her food when she saw her again. when she saw you.
you were walking up to their table sort of nervously, toying with your sleeves. ellie's expression immediately faltered. "is she walking over here?" dina and jesse looked up, glancing to you who had so many eyes on you. ellie could see the table of jocks and cheerleaders all staring at you, they simply couldn't take their eyes away. "she better not be fucking walking over here, she's not sitting―"
"ellie." dina whispered harshly as she shoved her foot forward, hitting ellie square in the calf. she winced, holding in the pained cringe.
"uhm, hi." you glanced back to the group of cheerleaders that were all staring. sometimes, you wished to be invisible, it was like there were always people watching. you felt like an actor on a stage and constantly having an audience. "dina, i was wondering if i could talk to you."
when you'd uttered the words, you sort of assumed dina would get up and walk with you. at least you hoped she would. you got the feeling that her friend didn't like you, the death stares she was throwing you, the glares that were burning into your head. not that you understood, though, you didn't even know her name.
"yeah, sure." she shoved to the side, allowing room for you to sit down. you awkwardly looked at the spot between her and her brunette friend wearing a black hat. the girl had looked away since you brought yourself over to the table. "guys this is y/n." she introduced as if they hadn't known who you were anyway. "y/n, this is jesse." he gave a smile to you to which you couldn't help but smile back softly. "and... ellie." she didn't lift her head. "ellie." she kicked her underneath the table once more.
ellie lifted her eyes, sending a glare your way before turning her head back down. you frowned but kept quiet. you didn't understand why the girl didn't like you but who were you to judge, you can't change how someone feels about you. besides, she didn't know you, you still had time to get her to warm up to you. perhaps she was like that with everyone.
in a way, she was.
"I was wondering if i could borrow your biology notes again over the weekend?" you had hopeful eyes, a little sympathy in them. "i'm sorry, i know i've asked like three weeks in a row now, i just really need to get this done." you had been attempting to rewrite all of your notes since the start of the year, you had realised how much you'd fallen behind in biology after you took cheerleading a bit too seriously.
dina waved you off, a big smile stretched on her lips. "yeah, no worries, you can drop by saturday?"
you grinned up at the girl. "yeah, i'll swing by after practice." practice. ellie could feel another eye roll coming on. "thank you so much." you began getting up from your seat next to the girls.
there wasn't much room, your leg brushed against ellie. you expected her to retract with a hiss as if you'd burned her, as if you were carrying a plague. instead, she froze. she didn't look disgusted, nor did she look happy, she didn't look much of... anything. she just froze.
in ellie's mind, she was cursing herself. if another pretty girl had brushed up against her, she would have smirked and leaned into it. she was cursing herself because she almost had. for a second, she forgot who you were. she forgot that the only reason she could feel the smooth skin of your leg was because of that stupid uniform.
"it was nice meeting you both." you smiled, mostly to ellie. you thought if you showed off your pearly whites she may see that you mean no harm.
when she didn't look up again, you sighed before leaving. what was so wrong with you that the girl hated you so much?
𝜗𝜚
ellie didn't need a fucking math tutor.
that's what she'd been telling herself for the past thirty minutes. she had been in her car, a rusted up van given to her by joel, passed down onto her. mr. gray had told her that she was flunking math and with the grades she was getting, if she kept them up he'd have to choice but to hold her back.
she couldn't risk that. so, he got her a tutor. at first, she got angry, stating that there was no need, she didn't need a tutor. she'd figure something out by herself. maybe jesse or dina could help her? but the man assured her that even they were only a mere average. he'd arranged a date for the first tutoring session at the local coffee shop, he stated that the tutor was the smartest kid he had ever taught. at least in math.
when she heard that you were her tutor, she downright flipped out.
yet, here she was in her van, stuffing the text books that lay on the seat back into the bag and opening the door. she couldn't afford to stay back, she'd have to make it work.
even if that meant you becoming her tutor.
she could imagine it now. you'd run thirty minutes late and be sat in the front of a fancy car, a porsche or something and you'd sit her in the darkest corner of the coffee shop.
yet, as she walked in, ten minutes early, you were already sat there. you were clad in a light jeans and a large woollen sweater, an off white, kind of brown. it was odd not seeing you in that uniform of yours. ellie awkwardly found herself ordering a coffee, her eyes drifting off to you. you had a couple text books open, notebooks too with a glass sitting next to you, pink straw peeking out.
"uh, hi." the sound of her voice caused you to jump before turning around to see her, smiling softly. she did not return the smile, sitting herself down at the booth you were in. right next to the window, the place that received the most light in the entire coffee shop. "you're early." she commented, mumbling beneath her breath a "probably cause of the porsche."
at the sound of your honey laugh, she looked up. your smile was wide and you shook your head. "no, i took my bike." you nodded outside the window to the little turquoise bike that sat in front of the cafe, little basket sitting in the front. "left the porsche in my garage." the sound of the joke nearly had ellie's lips curling upwards. nearly. she stopped herself. "uhm, we don't have to start just yet, you know, cause we're both early."
ellie barely muttered out an "alright." before setting her books on the table.
"what're you drinking?" you questioned quizzically.
"huh?" she glanced to the coffee cup next to her.
you shrugged your shoulders. "I think you can tell a lot from a person by what they drink. mine's a frappe, no coffee." your smile was a little lopsided. "makes me too hyper. what about you?"
"coffee." she deadpanned. "black."
"that's nice." you shuffled around awkwardly at a failed attempt of soothing down your own embarrassment. "you come here often?"
"look." ellie wasn't in the mood for your chit-chat, or anyone's for that matter. but you just so happened to be the one sitting in front of her at that given moment. "we don't need to do this whole small talk thing, i'm here 'cause i'm flunking math not because i'm trying to have it on with abby anderson's little girlfriend."
your brows furrowed, a little taken aback. "I'm not her girlfriend." you mumbled. "let's just get started, then." and so you pushed the chunky text book her way.
a couple moments passed you by. it was almost complete silence as you looked over the sums ellie had done. she was strumming the pencil against the table and waiting for you to finish. when you did, you wore a sloppy grin. "you got 'em all right." you spoke, pride in your voice. "well done, they were really hard." they weren't hard, ellie knew that. they were the basic sums, the easy ones that would soon lead into all the algebra she could never understand. but you were trying. really trying.
you gave her a couple more on the next chapter, awaiting her finish as you read through your own notes. she noted the fact that you didn't take out your phone to flick through your messages, or sigh loudly looking at the clock. there wasn't any rush or pressure.
she felt her insides twist a little. perhaps she was being a bit harsh earlier. "every saturday." she mumbled catching your attention, you hummed in question. "every saturday at one o clock, i come here... to draw."
your eyes lit up a little. "you draw?" ellie's heart stuttered. you didn't know? if you didn't know she drew then could it be possible that you hadn't heard the stephanie meadows situation at all? could dina have been right when she said that you truly were different?
"uh, yeah." she murmured, too busy thinking over the situation. what was happening? "yeah, i draw."
by the end of the session, you'd learned not much more about ellie other than the fact that she really did need this tutoring. perhaps it was a good thing she had been paired with you and not someone else. you knew that if you were working with ellie, patience was required.
you were walking out the door together when the bell dinged slightly, you had to go one way to get to your bike, she had to go the other to get to her car. "ellie?" she turned, hands in her pockets and satchel sitting on her shoulder. "could i get your number?" her brows pinched together and you almost slapped yourself for the way her face scrunched up. "don't look too excited, i mean for the next tutoring session, mr. gray isn't gonna set up any more for us."
"uh, yeah." she fished into her back pocket, grabbing out a pen. "do you have a piece of paper?" You merely shoved your sleeve up, handing her your arm. she looked at you quizzingly before scribbling down the digits onto your arm. "Just... delete it after."
you pressed your lips into a thin line. "wasn't planning on keeping it."
𝜗𝜚
ellie was fucking furious.
her feet were practically stomping up the driveway of dina woodwards house as she shoved her fist against the door, harshly pounding on it.
a confused and concerned dina met her eyes soon after, she opened the door and the girl allowed herself in. "them fucking cheerleaders, dina! i'm gonna kill them! i'm gonna fucking kill them!"
"wha― ellie-" dina had seen ellie angry like this countless times, always mouthing on about those cheerleaders and how they're dead if they do something again. she never did stand up for herself.
"you know and you're the one who told me she was different!" dina looked at her with confusion laced in her eyes. "she's just another one of those fucking cunts! fuck the cheerleaders, they're all the fucking same! she's nothing but a bitch―"
"ellie!" dina had cut the girl off. ellie turned around to see you. you were standing with the biology notebook in hand while a gear bag was slung across your shoulder, dressed in your cheerleaders outfit from head to toe. the mere sight of you, of the clothes reminded ellie exactly why she hated you. all of you.
"you." she gave a sneer to the girl. "you told them where i was, didn't you?" you backed up, giving dina a confused and scared look. what was she talking about? "you told them i'd be at the fucking coffee shop and did you see what they did to my fucking car?!" outside the living room window you could see ellie's van pulled up, covered in some kind of a liquid. milk? yoghurt? coffee?
"I d-didn't―" you were backing away from ellie, confused and hurt. had she really thought you'd be behind something like that. "who―"
"who is it ever? stephanie fucking meadows, you're just like her. you know, i actually thought you might have some human decency but i was right, behind all that fucking prissiness, all the smiles and high fucking ponytails, you're all just a carbon copy of each other." you were staring at her in disbelief. "I told you i go there every saturday at one o clock, who shows up? i know you fucking told her!"
"I didn't!" was your feeble argument.
"yes you fucking did!" ellie's hands had come to the top of your arms, shoving you slightly. but she was much stronger than you were, you stumbled back lightly.
"ellie!" dina was grabbing ellie's own upper arm, dragging her away from you. "are you fucking insane?" ellie's pupils were blown wide. "if she said she didn't do it, then she didn't fucking do it, okay?"
"I'm, uhm―" your eyes looked elsewhere. "I'm gonna go, thanks dina." and you were fleeing the scene.
not seconds later did the front door burst open again, jesse running in panting. "ellie, i am so sorry." ellie and dina looked at him in confusion. "stephanie told me that if i didn't tell her where you were, she was gonna revoke my place on the soccer team and you know the coach is her dad. I didn't have any other choice."
dina was glaring at ellie, a sick look in her face. "looks like you owe someone an apology, doesn't it."
ellie was breathing through her nose.
shit.
𝜗𝜚
ellie was standing at your front door, wrapping her knuckles against it. she had this look on her face making it plain obvious that this was not something she wanted to be doing. you had your location on your phone which is the only reason ellie was able to see where you lived. and how were you going to feel when the girl that just laid hands on you showed up at your front door?
the door opened to reveal you, now dressed in a shorts and tank top. you looked at her expectingly. "uhm, yes?" she didn't miss the way you practically hid yourself behind the door.
she glanced at her own dirtied converse trying to piece together what she was going to say. "i know you didn't tell stephanie where i was." and then there was the mumble of, "I'm sorry."
you blinked at her. "you are?" you got the feeling that sorry wasn't something ellie williams said a lot. and it wasn't, the words were barely even in her vocabulary. yet here she was, apologising on your doorstep, to a cheerleader. you had the effect of making her do a lot of things she couldn't see herself doing.
"yeah." kicking one of the pebbles on the ground. "I am. i shouldn't have yelled at you and i especially shouldn't have laid hands on you." god, what had she been thinking? it was as if she was looking to start a fight with you. with you. ellie had been in a multitude of fights before. but you? nothing but a sunflower.
"It's okay." you pressed your lips into a thin line. you watched as ellie's head snapped upward. it was? "they shouldn't have done what they did to you. you were upset, i get it." you knew stephanie could be a lot of work, you were shocked when ellie had told you but at the same time, you weren't necessarily surprised.
"yeah but i took it out on you." and she shouldn't have, she really shouldn't have.
you shrugged your shoulders, a small smile stretched to your cheeks. "happens to the best of us." but ellie was sure, cheerleader or not, you were an angel in disguise.
she could have walked away then and there, she could have told you that she was thankful for your forgiveness and left. that was the plan, anyway. to leave, she didn't think she'd end up sticking around much longer. she didn't think you'd forgive her in the first place. but then she saw that pretty smile on your face, the way you didn't look at her all disgusted and scared, the look everyone else had been giving her her entire life. it was almost like you looked at her and she meant something. this is what urged the next words to leave her mouth.
"do you wanna go get ice cream?"
sitting in the back of an ice cream parlor with ellie williams was not on your saturday to do list and yet here you were, licking your vanilla ice cream. "i can't go back." the girl uttered. she'd gotten chocolate ice cream and given you a weird look, stating that you were nothing short of 'basic'. "that coffee shop was my place." she groaned, putting her head in her hands. "this is shit." the situation, she meant, the icecream was amazing.
you were squirming on your chair, wondering if you should speak your mind or keep it contained. fuck it. "you know, if you wanted..." her head looked up at you, all nervous and shy. "we could maybe come here on saturdays, you could draw, if you wanted and i could do like homework or something." you blew the air from your cheeks. "that way if someone comes in they won't give you a hard time 'cause you're with me. not that i'll tell anyone we're here."
ellie couldn't help the way her lips tugged upwards. she was staring.
"what?" you let out a breathy laugh.
she shook her head. "you're just not at all what i thought you were."
and that was how it began.
every saturday ended in you and ellie sitting in that ice cream parlor. usually, it began after practice so you were still dressed in your cheer uniform, it ended when the sky was dark and the ice cream place was closing.
you began spending an awful lot of time with ellie. sitting with her and her friends at lunch or even inviting her over some days that it was too cold or too rainy for the ice cream parlor. in doing this, you sort of pulled away from that whole 'clique' that you were in. you couldn't of been happier.
that led to now.
it was one of the days in the summer that was sort of cold so you and ellie decided against ice cream. she was sat across your bed on her stomach, doodling little things into that sketchbook of hers. "els?" she hummed, not looking up. you had called her the nickname accidentally one day but it sort of just stuck after that. "can i ask you something?"
she groaned slightly as she closed her book. "you know i hate it when you start all vague like that." you had been skipping your way over to the bed seeing as you were sitting at your desk beforehand, trying to focus on biology. oh, how you hated the subject.
you sat yourself down next to her, giving her those doey eyes. this couldn't be anything good. "I know, i'm sorry." you mumbled sheepishly. "and i know it's not exactly your thing but i was wondering if maybe you'd... you don't have to i just― if you'd like― would you want to maybe..."
ellie had to chuckle at your nervousness. you were so squeamish and shy at times. she wondered what other times you acted like this. squirmy and struggling for words. "spit it out, angel." those silly names had started a couple weeks ago when ellie 'accidently' said one just to see your reaction. but when your face turned beat red, she couldn't help but continue.
you sighed, placing your hands in your lap. "so, the last game is on saturday and you know, i'm kinda required to go and i obviously wanna spend time with you to so i was wondering if you maybe wanted to go?" scratching the back of your neck. "if they win, abby's hosting some after party at hers and you could bring dina and jesse? not that i'd leave you alone―"
ellie cut you off. "y/n." you were looking at her with those saucer eyes. "if you want me to go, i'm already there."
your lips curved up and a huge grin fell on your face. "oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!!" you slung your arms around her neck, hugging her close.
you were too close. she could feel all of you, the parts she wanted to the most. she ignored it, squeezing her eyes shut as she melted into the hug. if she had it her way, she'd be doing whatever she pleased with you. but the situation was delicate right now, she needed you to warm up to her completely. then, she'd make her move.
𝜗𝜚
ellie regretted saying yes to your offer. she hadn't regretted watching you jump around in that cheerleading outfit, giving her almost a full display of your ass. she hadn't regretted the way you looked at her every time the cheering slowed or you lost focus. there wasn't an inch of regret in her bones when you threw your arms around her at the end when the women's soccer team won their game, your body squishing against her own so she could feel everything. what she did regret though, was coming to this stupid party.
ellie was no stranger to parties, in fact she sort of liked them at times. she always found herself strung across a couch, joint sitting between her fingers.
parties usually relaxed her, allowed her to live on the edge a little.
but right now? her glare was enough to send someone six feet under.
it started out okay, with dina and jesse by her side, you excitedly clinging to her like a puppy. she liked that, the fact that you were so attached. then, as always, dina and jesse go find themselves a room. you stayed with ellie, sitting up on the couch with your knees bent, still in your little cheer costume. she'd offered you the joint to which your face scrunched up, declining the offer politely.
then abby anderson called you up.
now, ellie had sort of anticipated this. captain of the football team, captain of the cheer squad. it made sense. abby was doing her stupid speech that had ellie rolling her eyes, and smoking the joint. leave it to abby to make a party boring.
suddenly, you were under her arm.
you hadn't even been paying attention when abby grabbed you, holding your shoulder close. your eyes instantly flickered to ellie who didn't look nearly as happy as she had with you by her side. her jaw was clenched, hand fisted and eyes narrowed in on you. she brought the joint to her lips again, eyes never leaving yours as she blew the smoke out. she caught on to the way you gulped and looked away.
dare she say, she saw your thighs squeeze together.
when you returned to your seat, ellie wouldn't so much as look at you. you took this as it being time for you both to head home. ellie stated that she would drive you, as she had been the one driving here. you told her you didn't think it was so much of a good idea, she was definitely high.
but the look she turned to give you was enough to have you shrinking back, shutting your mouth.
when you got into the car, sitting in the passenger seat with your hands sitting in your lap, you couldn't help but turn your own eyes towards ellie's whose knuckles were turning white due to how hard she was holding onto the steering wheel. "els?" she didn't so much as hum your way. "are you okay?"
"'m fine." was her deadpanned response.
had you made her mad? was this all over abby? why would it be? could she be... jealous? there was no way in hell. you knew you liked ellie, that much for sure but there was no possibility of her liking you back, you knew this. you'd been so wrapped up in your own thinking that you almost missed the way she had missed the turn off to your house. "els, you missed the turn." craining your head to look at the turn as if it was going to come back.
"I know." she stated, voice still icy cold. "i'm bringing you to mine." joel was out tonight, ellie knew this meaning there was no way in hell this man would be home before two pm the following day.
when ellie opened up the big brown door for you, it occurred to you that you'd never actually been in the house. you glanced around as you felt a cold hand on the small of your back. ellie lead you towards what you assumed was her bedroom. you glanced up, she still hadn't looked at you, her eyes strained straight forward. you stopped walking causing the girl to finally snap her eyes down towards you. you moved to step in front of her. "ellie, are you sure you're okay, i―"
ellie cut you off by her lips crashing into your own.
you didn't have time to think, melting into the kiss. the girl shoved the door behind you open, keeping you in her arms as she led you inside, leaving her foot kick the door closed. she made sure you didn't fall over until your foot hit the edge of your bed where she guided your back onto her sheets.
your head was spinning, the feeling of her rough lips on yours was enough to have you weak at the knees, a feeling pooling in your panties. but you were also confused. when ellie pulled away for air, eyes viewing you and your puffy lips, you took this as your chance. "ellie, wha―"
but she cut you off with a low groan. "just stop talking." and suddenly her lips were on yours again. her hand travelled down underneath you, hands coming up to squeeze at your ass. you whimpered into her mouth, the noise going straight down to her cunt. she held back a grunt as her hand moved to your stomach, flipping up your skirt and letting her fingers travel down further. they trailed up your thighs until they found your clothed cunt, sopping and wet. "f-fuck." ellie stuttered out, she'd expected it to be a little wet, sure, but she had this kind of an effect on you? "you're ruining your cheerleaders outfit, angel." you couldn't contain yourself, hips bucking and a whine falling from your lips. holy shit. ellie wasn't going to be able to contain herself, she'd end up creaming in her pants. "get on your knees."
your big blown out eyes found her own lowly red ones. "what?" nervousness eating at your stomach.
ellie took note of the little worry laced in your eye, she knew you better than you knew yourself. "get on your knees f'me, baby." pressing a little kiss against your neck. but she realised she had been just a little too soft. "now." she spoke, sternly.
you did as you were told, eyes never leaving ellie's as you positoned yourself on the ground underneath her, slight confusion lacing your eyes, mostly excitement. your knees scratched against her old carpet, eyes doey and looking up with enlarged pupils.
ellie bent down, her legs spread in front of you as she tilted your chin up, kissing you roughly. you could feel the hunger in the kiss. "don't like abby looking at you, touching you." you could hear the venom in her voice, her tone changing as if poison had been sat underneath her tongue. "touching what's mine."
you shook your head, eyes wide. "ellie it wasn't like that, she was told to―"
"shh." ellie didn't want to hear it, she especially didn't want to keep talking about abby, not when she had a pretty cheerleader sitting on her knees for her. "jus' say you're sorry 'n put your mouth where it's useful, yeah?"
ellie grabbed your hands, guiding them up to her hips so she could stick your two thumbs down the waistband of both her jeans and her boxers. "'m sorry, els, 'm really sorry." eyes almost watery. ellie helped you pull her jeans and boxers down her legs, letting them pile around her ankles, not caring enough to take them off completely.
"then show me." she spoke, voice a mere mumble, she was trying to stay in control but it was so hard when you were so close to her core. "c'mon, you know what to do."
your hands had sat at her thighs, keeping you propped up as you mouth came close to where she needed you. you looked up at her, then back down to her sopping cunt. breathing out lowly, your breath fell onto her causing her hips to buck. your tongue peeked out of your mouth before you leaned forward, pressing a kitten lick to her cunt. she let out a grunt letting you know that she liked it, with a little confidence you did it again, and again, and again.
you heard a low chuckle through her grunts from above you. "y'so cute." she mumbled, her hand falling into your hair as she tugged it closer. you moaned against her causing vibrations throughout her body. "s-shit." she found herself bucking her hips into your mouth.
you found your tongue moving against her quickly, practically making out with her cunt as your tongue dipped itself into her hole. you didn't really know what you were doing, you were doing what you hoped was right and by the grunts and curses that were falling from her lips, something had to be good. tongue dancing in circles around her clit making her chant your name as she held onto your roots, tugging you impossibly closer.
you sucked at her clit, it caused her entire body to move. "fuck, baby, jus' like that." she bucked her hips into your face, grinding down on it. it was as if she were face fucking you, the thought didn't seem so bad. "shit, don't stop." mumbling things you weren't even paying attention to. your hips were grinding against nothing, searching for release as your tongue worked against the girl.
ellie felt euphoric. she'd dreamt of this very moment a thousand times over, you with your mouth on her. she couldn't contain herself any longer, she knew that if you kept your pace up she was going to cum.
she couldn't. not yet. not before you.
she had so much more planned.
she hadn't even registered the fact that she was pulling you up before she was practically throwing you onto the bed. her big hands messed with the plush of your hips, squishing the fat of your ass as she turned you over so your face was buried in the sheets. "did i do something wrong?" you mumbled with fear in your tone, practically muffled into her sheets.
"no, bunny, you did so well." her mouth pressed kisses against the back of your thighs. she held your ass in the air while your face was practically squished against the pillows. "too well." wet hot and sloppy kisses all against your skin. "wanna have my fun with you now." her fingers moved to your covered cunt, rubbing up and down gently, a moan fell from your lips. "feel good, hm?" she moved to sit up on her knees, towering over you as she played with your pussy from over the cloth. she leaned over you. "tell me what you want." but you merely bucked your hips back. she stopped you by pressing her hands firmly on your waist. "tell me what you want or you wont get anything."
you whimpered desperately. "ellie." the sound of her voice on your lips was enough to have her going completely mad. "need your fingers." the mumble was low and pathetic, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.
she didn't move from her position. slowly, she trailed her hand back down to where your sopping cunt lay. she pulled the fabric of your cheerleaders outfit and your panties away from your pussy, sliding them across your ass as her fingers gently rubbed at your now bare cunt. "this what you want?" your hips were rolling against her fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head and incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. you didn't answer, too caught up in your own euphoria. "god, you're fucking pathetic." and nodded your head too, agreeing with her as she drew tight little circles around your clit.
you could have came by the mere stimulation of her fingers against your clit but you wanted all of her. "inside." you mumbled through your whining. "please, els."
she was rather enjoying herself too, pressing kisses on the back of your neck. "you can beg better than that." she had full faith that you could. your whining never stopped as you threw your head into the pillows, much too embarrassed. "listen to me." her mouth falling near your ear. "be a good slut and beg for my fingers or you're not getting anything."
and the way her voice sounded and the way her fingers felt never stopping their attack on your clit. how could you not? “please els, please need it so bad.” grinding your hips down on her moving fingers. “please, i’ll be good, promise i’ll be good, please ellie.”
“good girl.” ellie cooed into your ear, a smirk on her lips. she stuck two fingers inside you without warning, pumping them in and out of your dripping hole. “see? wasn’t so hard was it? ‘n now you got what you wanted.” pressing kisses against your shoulders as she continued her assault on your dripping pussy.
you babbled and whined, whimpered and begged as you felt her fingers completely undo you. they were pumping in and out of you consistently as she soaked in your every whimper, your every noise as you babbled into the sheets. even you were unaware of what you were trying to say, all you knew was that noises fell from your lips and they seemed like good ones. “ellie!” you were almost screaming her name in a chant. “‘m gonna, i can’t―”
“i know, sweetgirl.” cooing at you again. “can’t hold it?” you shook your head over and over, your hole tightening around her two fingers that plunged right back into you. “mm, let go, pretty. be a good girl ‘n cum all over my fingers.” and that was exactly what you did. 
she felt you tighten around her, completely sucking in her two fingers as you gushed around her, wet and sloppily as you came undone. she kept moving her fingers, allowing you to ride it out as she pumped in and out of you, gently now that she knew you were sensitive. when you collapsed onto the bed, fucked out and tired, she finally let her fingers exit your little hole.
her eyes couldn’t help but be strained to your face, cheeks pink and eyes slightly droopy. you looked completely fucked out and she was the cause of it. pride melted inside her as she grabbed your knee, flipping you around to look up at her with those doey eyes again, pupils wide.
she wasn’t entirely done with you yet.
“can you give me another?” you weren’t responding, babbling something as she reached down to untie your little costume. she slipped it off you with ease, smirking at the fact that you hadn’t been wearing a bra. “yeah?” to your constant babbling, not a clue in her head of what you were trying to say. “know you can, pretty girl.” reaching up to grab the top of her jumper, sliding it off and tossing it somewhere across the room.
you were gawking at her, not a drip of shame inside you. eyes wide as you stared. she understood for she had been staring just as much as you had. eyes drawn to your chest as her hands came down to kneed your tits, fingers slipping over your nipple causing a moan to fall from you, arching your back up on the bed.
she just had to have her cunt on yours. 
she quickly climbed atop you, watching your face that never moved, you were waiting in anticipation for what she was going to do next. when she lowered herself onto your cunt, you couldn’t help but whimper out. even when your pussy was all sensitive, you couldn’t help but grind your hips upwards. the best part? she hadn’t even started moving yet.
“fuck.” she breathed out, feeling your clit rub against hers. “jus’ slow down, alright?” chuckling at your nodding. “gonna give you what you wan’t. jus’ gotta… jus’ need to…” but she cut herself off, unable to keep talking as her eyes rolled, a moan falling from her lips. the way you rolled your hips against hers, the way her clit bumped off your own, she couldn’t keep up.
her hands moved to sit up against you, she needed to take some sort of control. she moved upright, grinding her hips down to meet yours. her movements were much quicker than yours, a little desperate as she felt your clit constantly on hers. she couldn’t help the low groan that fell from her lips. “els!” you were a moaning, blabbering mess, back arched against the bed and eyes screwed shut. “feels so good, els, feels―” cutting yourself off with yet another whine.
ellie’s eyes were on yours, watching as your face twisted and contorted in pleasure. It drove her to hump her hips quicker, bouncing and bumping clit to clit. “good girl.” her own breath shaking. “takin’ it so well, my good girl.” 
the way the words fell from your lips had your stomach twisting in knots for the second time that evening. this time, you could barely hold yourself. “ellie!” you couldn’t even get the words out, all you could feel and see was pleasure, all you could think was ellie.
ellie knew what you were trying to say, merely grunting as she found her own stomach pooling with that feeling. “yeah?” her head in your neck as she moved her hips against you so quickly, grinding down so fast, you could see stars. “you gonna cum all over me?” there was a higher pitch to her tone, you could tell she was so close, as close as you were. “gonna cum all over me like the little slut you are, hm? my slut.” 
that was all you needed.
when ellie felt it, she found her hips stuttering against you. the sputtering of liquid against her, coming from your pussy. her eyes glanced down to see you squirting all over her cunt, hips chasing you as the liquid spurted, hitting her and travelling down to your stomach. the whining and the whimpering in her ear didn’t stop.
watching you squirt all over her could only make her come as close as you had. her stomach knots unravelled as she came, her hands holding your own tightly. you both grinded against each other as you came down from your highs.  
when ellie finished, watching as your legs shook, she collapsed to the other side of you, chest heaving up and down, her eyes glancing to you who was looking at the ceiling in pure shock. she couldn’t help the way her lips curved completely upwards, the biggest shit eating grin on her face.
she had fucked the cheerleader.
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main masterlist/ellie's masterlist
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stillaclownlol · 1 year ago
Text
Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-
Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)
The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.
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Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)
He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.
The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-
It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?
He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀
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And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.
And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-
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He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.
I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.
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That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.
It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.
And what makes you feel more alive than love?
Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.
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He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.
He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.
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Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.
Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.
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He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-
Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠
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The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.
I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.
Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.
Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher
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periprose · 1 year ago
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Hi! :)
I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.
Thank you! 🩷 :)
Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.
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/
"Out with it."
Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.
Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.
Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.
"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.
"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."
"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"
"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."
Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."
"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."
There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.
"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.
/
All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?
Should you even be here?
You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.
It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.
Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.
"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.
You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-
It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.
/
Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.
Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.
With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.
He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.
"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.
His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.
/
"Logan. Logan!"
You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.
How out of touch could you have been today?
You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.
It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.
You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.
"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"
"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.
And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.
Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.
He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.
"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.
"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"
"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."
You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.
"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."
"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.
"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.
"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."
He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."
"Scared?"
"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."
"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.
He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.
The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.
It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.
Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:
"Hey!...?"
He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"
"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."
"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.
Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.
"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.
"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"
"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."
You can't help but agree.
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tokoyamisstuff · 6 months ago
Text
Delicate
Homelander x F! Reader
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Summary: You and Homelander have been official for a while now, but you have yet to understand why things never went beyond a certain line.
Warnings: slight angst, slight manhandling, somnophilia, masturbation, explicit smut, praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex
A/N: not proofread as always bc I cringe at my own writing. take it or leave it
Homelander had never learned how to be gentle.
Of course he knew how to touch someone without breaking them if necessary, but there's limits to his self-restraint. Especially when it came to the intimate kind of encounter.
This sadistic side of his was an expression of his desperate need for control, an inability to truly let himself fall and be vulnerable with another person.
For decades his mantra was that normal humans only exist for supes' - and mostly his - entertainment. Your weakness was his thrill, the sheer difference in power so ridiculously high that you might as well be filthy bugs - and Homelander was like a cruel child with a magnifying glass.
Usually his mates were supes themselves and even they could barely handle his violent urges, but you are a mere human. So fragile and precious that it terrified him at times.
What if he loses control in the heat of the moment? What if he breaks you? Or even worse: What if you see him for the monster he really is and run away like everyone eventually does?
A while ago Homelander heard the story about Ice Princess' fling, some Vought employee nobody. She accidentally froze his penis off during climax. Hilarious, honestly. The first time he heard this story he had a very good laugh, and he still can't look that guy in the eye without cackling when he passes him in the hallways.
But now, being romantically involved with one of those weaklings himself, the possibility of something similar happening to you made his stomach turn...
...but of course, as Homelander always does, he chose to ignore the problem at hand instead of addressing it.
Why bother with an unpleasant conversation if he can just prolong this innocent, chaste bond for as long as possible? He'd rather have you like this than unnecessarily putting you into harm's way.
You on the other hand slowly but steadily grew impatient with your boyfriend.
At first you thought he was merely being chivalrous, but it's been three months and still nothing. He's famous, so you had involuntarily learned about his past affairs - and he's definetly not old-fashioned.
Then why is he hesitating so much?
Most of the time you don't dare talking about what's bothering you, simply because any issue of yours seemed so insignificant compared to the horrible things John's been through.
Admittedly, he once literally lasered a guy's head into mush just for throwing a can to his son's head. So while his reactions can be a bit unpredictable, John cares so deeply about the few people he loves that you want to spare him any more trouble.
Unhealthy way of handling things, admittedly.
Last week you had planned it all out: What you could only describe as the perfect date was supposed to continue in his apartment, and you could literally see all blood flow from his brain to nether regions as you entered the bedroom in finest lingerie.
Anyways, you had initiated several times up until now, and initially he'd always go along with it. However as soon as your make-out-sessions turn more heated, he'd abruptly end them and practically storm off.
Everything went so well at first, with you straddling his waist and tentatively grinding against his lap. His hands moved against his will as his resolve crumbled, finding the curves of your body and relishing in the feeling of your exposed skin under his gloves. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to go all out, fearing dangerous consequences.
A proper dosage of pain can function as aphrodisiac, at least in your opinion. So you didn't tell him to stop, in fact your senses were too clouded by desire to even notice the way his fingers dug into the cushion of your hips.
Yet there was just the tiniest microexpression, just the fraction of a second where your heart sped up and your face contorted in pain...
...and Homelander, shocked with himself, threw you so frantically off of his lap, you landed face firsr on the floor instead of the bed.
Against all reasoning, you laughed hysterically at his not-so-subtle rejection, and god knows you'll tease him about it until forever. But also, understandably, on the inside you were as hurt and confused as never before.
Doesn't make it any better that your boyfriend had been avoiding you like you were the goddamn pest ever since.
Just like today, when Homelander comes home to you way past midnight, double checking with his x-ray-vision whether you were already fast asleep.
John was aware that this topic has been tormenting you for a while now, and while he never intended to hurt you - quite the opposite, really - he also clung to this pleasant illusion he had created with you.
Lucky at cards, unlucky in love, or so they say.
The course of his life had convinced him that all remotely good things happening to him will be taken away again. A farce prepared by destiny itself just to mock him, maybe evening out the scales since he had been blessed with too much power.
On days as shitty as this one however, nothing compares to having someone to come home to - even when he made sure that you weren't awake to confront him. He tosses his boots aside, grateful for you to be a sound sleeper as they fell to the floor with a loud thump.
Your boyfriend's heart sinks as he pulls up the blanket, being greeted by a handprint-shaped bruise on the side of your hip. Seems like it still hurts too much to sleep on that side. His fingertips run over the dark purple-ish mark, a pained groan escaping your throat when he gives in to the temptation to squeeze your ass.
He really is the worst.
Homelander freezes until he's certain you continue sleeping undisturbed, the sound of his own heart hammering against his chest drowning out all other noise. His palm is still lingering on your body, running up and down your sides and earning relieved sighs in return.
Before you'd feel his excitement too much, he manages to tear his body away from you, his erection twitching painfully as he rolled onto his back.
John really had pure intentions when he embraced you from behind, simply wanting to distract himself and fall asleep while cradling you in his arms - yet instead his already hard cock buries itself neatly between your thighs, the friction making him utter vile things.
Damn it Y/N, why the fuck do you always sleep in underwear only?! Is it to taunt him or to test his limits? Because it's working.
A breathy moan escapes his lips as he spread his legs wide, cock already leaking precum when he ran his thumb across the slid. He grabs it fiercely, pumping hard to make quick work of it, while roaming every inch of your skin he can get his other free hand on.
"Need some help with that?"
Shit.
ShitshitshitshitSHIT!
Seems like he was a little too busy with getting off - so much that even his heightened senses didn't catch you waking up to this scene. Your boyfriend had a habit of sleeping naked, so right now there was none of what he did left to the imagination.
"Heyyy sweetheart..." John tried to put on his trusty showman attitude, an awkward grin stretched across his face while trying to cover himself with the next best pillow. "Sorry babe, didn't wanna wake you up. Just go back to slee-"
"And miss out on the show?" you chuckle half-sleepily and he wants to die. He's done worse things in his life, way worse to be precize - so why is he fucking shy nowy just because you caught him? "Aww, you're blushing." He contemplates lasering your lips together to make you shut up.
"C'mon, John, I know you're holding back for some reason, but we don't have to go all out." Shuffling closer to your boyfriend, you give him those damn doe-eyes he can never say no to. "And I'd love to lend you a hand, if you know what I mean."
John instinctively closes his eyes as your face moves closer, lips eagerly awaiting yours...
...but just when you were about to touch him, he takes a hold of your wrist. "Y/N, I-" he shakes his head, trying to regain his composure. "Just- just let me go to the bathroom, okay?"
You frown. Worse, the humiliation makes tears dwell in your eyes. Pushing your partner is wrong, but without context you really start doubting yourself here.
Suddenly the stench of fear was lingering in the air, and your heart starts racing like a hummingbird. Trying to calm yourself was a fruitless attempt in front of a man that could perceive almost anything, even your pathetic strangled sobs.
So he was right: You're afraid and maybe even disgusted by his behavior, and just offered yourself to placate him.
Maybe he should just snap your neck to escape the inevitable heartbreak.
"A-Are you cheating on me?"
"Huh?" That question caught him off guard. He was prepared to hear anything, seriously all kinds of insults or accusations, but that? "Are you dense? Why the fuck would I cheat on you?"
And that's when it dawns on him: You are scared - but not of him.
To your defense, he did have a reputation of not being able to keep it in his pants. Maeve had remarked that fact more than once so you wouldn't forget. And him constantly being swarmed by the prettiest celebrities didn't do any good to your self-esteem either.
You're scared of him leaving you.
"Then what is it?" you sniveled, shrinking into yourself as you hugged your own legs. Seeing you like this and knowing he's responsible was somehow even worse than his earlier apprehensions. "You always react as if you got burned whenever we touch. Did I do something wrong, or- or am I not attractive enough?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" John scoffs in an almost irritated tone, unable to refrain from rolling his eyes. Comforting people didn't really come easy to him, even if he hated himself for not being able to let the shielding facade drop just this once. "You're gorgeous and you know that! C'mon, you women are always causing arguments out of thin air. Stop making this about yourself, would y-"
Seeing your glossy eyes turn into a glare at his ramblings made him shut up immediately, but the damage has already been done. "You know what, I'll-" For a while, you sit on the edge of the bed thinking and with every passing second of silence, Homelander's anxiety skyrockets. "I think it's better if I sleep at my own place for a while."
That's exactly what he's talking about, damn it! The line between control and insanity is a thin thread, and he is not willing to take any chances - when it comes to you at least.
"No!" he almost screams at you, jumping up from the bed and pointing a warning finger at you. "You're not going fucking anywhere!" When he sees your wary expression John's eyes soften, instantly regretting his outburst.
Why does he always fuck up? Why can he never seem to keep what makes him happy? Why can't he be what you need?
Homelander buries his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself just like you taught him. "Look, I-" He reluctantly put his hands on each of your shoulders and when you don't flinch away, he starts rubbing circles on your back. You always do it for him when he's upset, so he figures maybe it can help you too. "Please...I'll tell you the truth, okay? Just...don't leave."
You turn around to face him, nodding mutely as he wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. Seeing you cry was gutwrenching, moreso when he was the reason. "I..." he helplessly gestures around, wishing there was a script to this like he was usually provided. "I tend to become...rough."
"So?" The initial hurt now turned into confusion, suspicion even about whether he was telling the truth. You defendingly cross your arms, like a barrier so you wouldn't falter before you got answers.
"I'm not made out of glass." Compared to his strenght, you might as well be. "And I can talk. If you become too wild I'll let you know."
Stubborn as always. But he loved that about you, too. "It's not that easy, Y/N." His head falls in defeat and exasperation. John's about to cry himself, and he hates you seeing him anything less than perfect. "I'll hurt you, and then you'll hate me. Or worse..."
Consciously ignoring the worse part, you cup both sides of his face, making him look up to meet your eyes. "John..."
You straddle his waist again, feeling relief now that you finally understood. Peppering kisses across his face and neck you whisper "I was so, so worried you had grown tired of me..."
"Never." Homelander wasn't someone to apologize often, let alone sincerely. The times he did ever since leaving the lab he can count on one hand.
But despite him being...well, him, John knows best what it's like to be plaqued by insecurities. He hugs you tight enough to make you feel the sincerity of his words. "I only wanted to protect you. I never wanted to make you feel this way."
"Next time talk to me from the start, okay?" You smile softly as he aggrees, and he doubts to be deserving of all your sympathy.
Your hands never leave his body, featherlight touch reassuringly calming his nerves. And yet together with the fact that the only thing currently separating your bodies was your thin panty, it was no wonder that his body reacted the way it did.
A moan disrups your conversation when his cock stiffens again, and you can't help but buck your hips against him in response. Your panties were already soaking anyway, due to the friction and his dirty little deed earlier.
The scent of your lust wipe all negative emotions from your boyfriend's mind, replacing them with something else.
"I want you, John" you breathe against his ear and he whines. "We could just take it slowly..."
"I don't know how" he admits, and you smile at his reluctant aggreement. Gently being shoved down on his back again, it feels like he melts beneathe your fingertips. "Then I'll teach you."
Goosebumps rise on his skin as your fingertips ghost over his body, and you lean over for a longdue kiss, so tender and affectionate John thinks he will fall apart.
Homelander's groan gets swallowed by your lips as you pull your panties aside, slick folds now grinding against his cock. Your name falls from his lips in meek whimpers and you refuse to believe this wonderful man could ever harm you.
"Let me take care of you." Shit, how do you always know exactly what to say?
Raking your hands through your hair as you sit up, air gets stuck in Homelander's throat at the sight, making him choke.
You look fucking magnificent.
Hell, he'd pay an artist to paint you like this so he could look at it forever. If only it didn't require another person seeing you naked...
"You know, I thought it was just my imagination..." A mischievous smile plays on your lips now that you think of it. "But my panties have been disappearing a lot lately."
Your boyfriend didn't respond anything else but a whimmer, shame washing over him at being caught. Not that he was really subtle to begin with.
"Speak up" you tease, giving his shaft a soft squeeze and he instinctively thrusts into your hand like a dog in heat. "Did you use them to get yourself off to your fantasies, huh? Naughty boy." His cock twitches in your palm at the words. "From now on, I want you to come to me for release. Always."
"I trust you" you add as doubt is clearly written on his face, voice firm and as unwavering as your loving eyes, driving tears into his own. You lower yourself on his cock, savouring the feeling of being filled out like this. "Mhh...you feel so good inside of me. Will you behave, John?"
"Y-Yes..." was all he managed to wring out, since it takes every ounce of strenght inside of him to not cum to your sweet affirmations right away. John clutches the bedframe so hard that it crumbles under his grip, but to his surprise you don't wince at the sound - quite the opposite, it shot a wave of heat right through your core.
"John...look at me." You guide his hands away from his eyes to cup your breasts instead, looking at him like he's the best fucking thing in the world. The intensity of your gaze causes him to shiver, makes him wanna hide.
Yes, this is too good to be true.
Whatever you see in him right now he will taint with his own hands given time.
And yet he can't stop anymore, now that he's aware of the depht your love helds for him.
You read him like a damn book, noticing his internal struggle so you silence the voices in his head with a passionate kiss. "So good for me, John" you cheer him on, moving your hips at a low pace.
Tension finally leaves his body and he dives his tongue into your mouth, groaning deeply as he moves his body alongside yours. His touch was careful yet bruising, sending pleasant tingles down your spine.
"I love you, John" you cry out as your foreheads touch, eyes never leaving his. "I love you so damn much!"
That declaration was enough to drive him over the edge.
Homelander pulls you as close as close as humanly possible when he stills momentarily, jackknive-like thrusts chasing after his high. The sounds he made as you got filled up bordered on obscene, as did the amount of cum spilling out of you.
"Shit" he speaks breathlessly against your skin, covering a bitemark he had just caused with kisses. "M'sorry..."
And yet he wasn't willing to let go off of you just yet, this amazing orgasm unable to ward off the embarassment of his poor performance.
"Never apologize for having a good time, silly" you chuckle, brushing your nose against his. "I'm flattered, if anything."
John never knew that sex could be so...satisfying, more than just physically. Filled with carefree laughter instead of expectations.
After all, he was conditioned to never wanna disappoint.
"Nah-a-ah." You yelped as he spun you around effortlessly, now him being the one howering over you, bearing his canines like a starved predator. "I refuse to let my goddess go unworshipped."
"John...I'm okay, really. Sex between lovers is not just about that..." And yet when he opens your legs, you don't resist.
He bets you taste just as fucking good as you smell, feisty little thing. Driving him crazy all those weeks. Do you have any idea how hard it was to endure this sweet torture for your sake?!
A shiver runs down your spine when he licks his lips at the sight of your leaking entrance, taking a deep inhale. There's a hunger in his eyes that no sane person could ever comprehend - but you indulged in it, craved in his twisted kind of love.
Heh, you were a goddamn freak just like him all along, isn't that right?
Homelander takes his time kissing a path down to your navel, admiring the marks he left on your body he was now able to see as the lovebites they are. He briefly looks up to assure himself of your consent, an answering smile all he needs to continue.
"Myyyy tuuuurn" he chants so cheerful, you almost thought he had put on his formal persona.
A relieving finger finally has mercy and slides into your already overstimulated sex, making you arch your back when he curls it inside. Pleads and curses falling from your lips as he enters a second one and then another, and you desperately try to move yourself deeper onto him.
"Attagirl!" Seems like his confidence has returned, at least judging by that damn smug smile his tone indicated. The frustrated pout you wore right now was so adorable, he decided to end your misery and bury his head between your legs as well.
You were still fucking yourself on his fingers while he relished the taste of himself on your pussy, before enveloping your clit with his tongue. "That's my fucking girl right there" he mouths as he ate you out, pumping his fingers keenly on your weak spot he so easily found. "Come on, I want to hear you."
When you came it felt like you were ascending to the afterlife, screaming his name at the top of your lungs before collapsing into the sheets.
Your legs had long since gave out but John put them over his shoulders, humping the mattress while his tongue still ran over your nerve endings, shooting jolts of overwhelming pleasure through your system.
"Oopsie" he coos, a predatory glint in his eyes as he crawled on top of you again, his kiss giving you a taste of your own spent. "Made me hard again."
You eyes flutter open after the last bit of your climax had ebbed out, exhausted yet invitingly batting your lashes as your limbs entangled once again.
"Seems like I found the Homelander's weakness."
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fireater · 2 months ago
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sweetpea… please write jimmy leaving his girlfriend to overdose at curly’s place like you said 😭
tw for overdose, cocaine, drug use, shitty bf jimmy, blood, death and shitty writing
“Hiii, Curly.” You’re clutching onto his doorframe, blinking at him rapidly, one of your false lashes is MIA.
Jimmy is close behind, smiling too hard for it to actually be Jimmy. Jesus. It’s a little scary. Like he’s wearing someone else’s face, the skin stretched thinly over his bones is looking worn. He shoulders past Curly and makes himself comfortable on the couch he has called home so many times.
“Woah, okay—Hey, hey, Jim.” Curly catches you when you stumble, clammy hands on his chest to steady yourself. “What’s all this about?” He’s too old for this. Too old to think Jimmy is cool for snorting crack off public bathroom counters, too old to be anything but worried.
“Nothin’, man.” Jimmy waves a dismissive hand his way. “She just overdid it, your place is closer than mine.”
You blink up at Curly with a dopey smile as he sets you down beside your boyfriend. “You’re sooo nice, Curly,” you slur, tucking your legs beneath you, it takes a few attempts but you make it there. “Just the best, like, so nice, you know any girl would be lucky to have you.”
Good ol’ reliable Curly. Got a big ol’ shoulder to lean on. Big ass back to stab. Curly who cannot keep him at arms length.
So he sits down like a dumbass and chaperones the two of you as Jimmy, loyalty card in hand, cuts up another few lines on the coffee table. Curly opts out, mumbling about blocked sinuses and a short nasal passage. He takes a dollar bill from your purse and rolls it up, dexterous fingers that only get put to use for one thing in particular. Jimmy snorts it, tips his head back, thumbing the edge of his nose, his smile crooked and lazy when he passes the bill over to you.
You do the same.
Snort it, tip your head back, sniffle, wipe your nose.
Your head doesn’t fall back into place. You stay like that for one second, two seconds, three seconds, four, five—
Foam dribbles down your chin, and your body jerks backwards until you are sprawled on the floor lifelessly like a discarded mannequin.
“Holy shit.” Curly jumps to his feet, floundering, breathing just as hard as you are trying to breathe. “Holy shit, Jim. Holy shit, she’s fucking—Jesus Christ.”
“Fuck, shut up, Curly, I know, I know—I’ve got this,” says Jimmy, who has not got this, who has not got fucking anything at all, like, ever. So why would he have this? “C’mon, baby.” He smacks you hard, somehow managing to look unfazed and completely unhinged. “Don’t die on me, I’ll fucking kill you, you… Fucking shit, shit, shit.”
There is so much blood seeping into Curly’s new shag rug. He is going to pass it off as wine when his mother visits. You’re twisting and choking and kicking your legs, putting up a nasty fight and nobody has bothered to call a fucking ambulance, nobody wants to deal with the fucking consequences. There is a girl overdosing in his lounge and Jimmy is going to go back to jail and—
“Where are you going?” Curly asks, horrified as you fit on the ground while your boyfriend pulls on his jacket. “Jim, where are you going, are you fucking serious?”
“I can’t—“ Jimmy motions with his hand at you, at himself. “I can’t fucking go back there, man, shit, not for this, not for her.”
You’re not worth it, not worth hospital bills and phone calls and court dates.
So they let it happen.
Jimmy helps you ride it out, kissing your face and cupping your tit like it is going to do anything at all.
And when you go cold, he rolls you up in Curly’s shag rug to keep you warm, it’s a two-man job, lifting all this dead weight, but Jimmy does it all on his own while Curly sits there jittering.
“There’s a creek nearby,” Curly tells him, white-knuckling the arm of the sofa.
“How about that job you were talking about?” Jimmy murmurs soberly.
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wisegirl25 · 3 months ago
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Arcane High School AU Headcannons-Ship Edition!!
Timebomb
-Jinx drags Ekko out of the school to skip class with her
-Jinx will randomly jump onto his back in the hallways when he’s talking to other people and just expects him to carry her around like that (he does because he’s down bad)
-Jinx almost never brings a bag to school so Ekko will go out of his way to carry things he knows she’ll need in his bag (such as hair ties, little contraptions for her to play with, extra pens and pencils, etc.
-When they’re bored they draw on each other, more so Jinx than Ekko, but he walks around with little monkeys and her name drawn on him in bright pink paint marker half the time with no complaints
-They got together in their freshman year but hid their relationship until they got caught
-Ekko liked her since they were kids but was too afraid to say anything, Jinx started liking him around middle school and had to make the first move
-One time they pulled the fire alarm and got the whole school evacuated but somehow never got caught
-When they’re not around each other their teachers will ask “where’s the other one”
-Whenever Ekko accidentally blows something up in chemistry he blames it on Jinx and everyone believes him because she always does stuff like that
-Silco absolutely HATES Ekko and likewise so whenever Jinx invites him over they just glare at each other but don’t say anything for her sake
-Vander however LOVES that Ekko and Jinx are dating and always claims he knew it would happen eventually (also I hc that Silco is Jinx’s full time guardian but she also stays with Vi and Vander a lot since he raised her)
Violyn/Caitvi
-When Caitlyn and Vi first met, Vi was so nervous to talk to her that she accidentally insulted her
-Consequently, Caitlyn hated her for a full year until Vi found out why and apologized
-They started to get closer because Vi would make excuses to talk to Caitlyn
-Their first date was at an amusement park and Vi pretended to be tough but she and Caitlyn were both screaming on the biggest ride and ended up holding hands, they just didn’t let go afterwards
-Before they dated, nobody knew Caitlyn was even into girls (or anyone at all)
-Vi constantly copies off of Caitlyn’s work when she isn’t looking and thinks she doesn’t know about it (she does)
-Vi started calling Caitlyn cupcake because she sold cupcakes at their schools bake sale to raise money for student activities as part of the school council
-Vi bought ten of said cupcakes claiming it was for her family
-The one time Vi convinced Caitlyn to skip class with her they ran into Ekko and Jinx and they all ended up getting caught because Jinx tried to fight Caitlyn
-Vi spams Caitlyn with messages and memes 24/7 but Caitlyn texts like a grandma and replies every 3 hours
Jayvik
-They met in elementary and have been inseparable ever since
-Viktor was INSANELY jealous when Jayce and Mel were dating but didn’t let it effect his relationship with her
-These idiots didn’t start dating until the end of high school because it took Jayce that long to get his head out of his ass and realize Viktor was his soulmate
-Jayce constantly worries about Viktor and asks him if he needs help which Viktor always denies but is secretly giddy about it
-Viktor has to get Jayce out of trouble all the time and it only works because the teachers love him
-It’s Viktor who gets them into those situations in the first place but he doesn’t get caught
-For their first official date they went back to the playground near their old elementary school after getting ice cream
-Viktor is a Mastermind ™ and Jayce is a Mastermind but Stupider ™
-Viktor became really close with Jayce’s mom through the years and she was always gunning for their relationship
Bonus: Jaymel (is that what they’re called?)
-That one cringe ass couple you see in the halls
-Mel would ignore anyone who brought up Jayce around her when he wasn’t around
-Had insta story highlights of each other
-Mel dumped Jayce because he “didn’t spend enough time with her” (guess who he was spending that time with)
-Power couple
-They had everyone drooling over them
-They would fight over the stupidest things and then get over it five minutes later
-When they broke up like 10 different guys tried to get w/ Mel
If you liked this, check out my original post->
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signanothername · 4 months ago
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What's a HC or an analysing or a lore in general that you have for the twins but you never talked about bc nobody asked yet or just didn't get a chance to do so?
Dream’s anger issues >:)
While Dream tends to try his best to be kind, patient, understanding and respectful, it doesn’t mean he’s an absolute angel who does no wrong or who doesn’t make mistakes (in fact he does so many mistakes throughout his journey, some of which cannot be reversed)
One of the biggest things in my writing for Dream as a character (that I’m working on a comic for to showcase) is that Dream can get frustrated really easily sometimes, but there are certain moments in which he just blows up
This is due to the bullshit Dream has to endure every day that he has little to no healthy outlet for, simply internalizing what hurts him, then redirecting it towards the wrong place/person, and so when he blows up, he usually says/ does something he regrets deeply afterwards
Sometimes he blows up for no clear reason (something that induces a lot of anxiety in him) other times, his anger is justified and he blows up for very understandable reasons, it still does not mean that his actions were right or that the damage caused by him is insignificant or has no consequences
His anger usually blows up around Nightmare the most, considering Nightmare’s usual behaviors, it’s very understandable why Dream blows up around his twin
The thing is, Dream still can go for low blows in his anger, not taking in how unfair his words/actions were at that vulnerable angry moment, and that only serves to raise the tension in the twins’ relationship (that’s why whenever Dream tries to simply talk to Nightmare, their talks sometimes escalate to a fight or simply end on a bad note, it’s not always Nightmare in the wrong, sometimes it’s Dream blowing up and saying/doing something that ends up with Nightmare getting defensive or shutting down), and that anger even affects Dream’s relationship with his friends (wink wink Dream and Ink fallout wink wink) >:)
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endearing-dalliance · 2 months ago
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the way the Arcane team romanticize the undercity disgusts me
Especially in the new art book, they talk about how Zaun and Piltover really aren’t as different as they first seem, as they are both heavily invested in technology. Zaun is a bastion of flamboyant body modification and innovative technology. They describe it as a refuge for outcasts who are looking for a home, where people are free from Piltover’s rigid rules and politics. A communal place with a thrilling sense that anything is possible. The Firelights are described as a group uses the freedom granted by Piltover not caring about them to find beauty and innovation. People are particularly interested in recycling technology and resources because "nothing is precious and everything can always be made better". Bc obviously that's why poor people fix stuff. They are definitely able to easily replace stuff at any time, but they want to strive for perfection...
In the same breath, they describe Zaun as being oppressed, crushed by Piltover, addicted to Shimmer, having “some issues with the mob”, dangerous, volatile. They talk about how if it was better, people like Jinx and Ekko could use their skills for good. This is the same place that’s a refuge for innovative, flamboyantly augmented outcasts to be able to make wonderful technology?
Notable mention: "we had to design a prison, and that was tricky because Piltover is supposed to be a city of progress - do they really put people in prisons? Maybe only people from the Undercity, and maybe they put them really far away" like seriously does nobody realize how fucked up that is? Your issue with it is the difficulty in designing the prison?
Like have any of these people ever actually met someone who lives in an irl place like Zaun? Heard of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? Opened any book or video on heavily polluted urban areas?
On top of that, the undercity is filled with negative stereotypes. Many of the characters are “bad” in some way, whether that be missing body parts, mentally damaged, filthy, an addict. Their food is tentacles, a drooling animal head, and a dish that looks very much like slugs in mud sauce (vs Piltover’s “normal” sandwich). Many of the people are all dressed punk/goth/sexy and look “dangerous”. This season, I expected them to address those stereotypes and show how Zaun has equal value to Piltover. That those differences don’t make people hateable or disgusting or deserving of their misery. Instead, we got “actions have consequences” theme and a dying man who suffered from chronic pain and mobility issues his entire life being told that his imperfections make him beautiful. (She-Ra did that line already and did it much better.) Because using tech/magic to fix his leg and spine strip him of his humanity.
The team have said they were specifically inspired by the current political climate in the US, specifically the two-party system within one nation divided and unable to reason with each other. But that is an entirely different and incompatible concept. Zaun literally doesn’t get a vote, and that kind of lack of political representation is literally why America rebelled against England. Its not as simple as them just talking it out or getting a single vote. And for me it explains why the conflict fizzled out in season 2 and felt so unresolved. I was expecting independence, which is the only solution to colonial oppression, but the creators gave us a fix for the political party problem they thought they were showing. We only got to see the Piltie’s viewpoint of Zaun, and it was unflattering specifically in the ways that are in real life associated classism, body shaming, and cultural shaming. They were never redeemed or validated, and almost everyone repeatedly proved the Pilties were right about them all along. In season 2, all the bad guys were Zaunites (Jinx, Viktor, Skye, Vanwick, Singed kind of) aided by a foreign power also trying to use them, and the solution was for them not to be part of their world anymore. They were too broken, too evil, too violent to remain. And for the rest, their only use was to die protecting the Pilties from one of their own people (whose autonomy wasn't even respected by his own partner and became his own worst nightmare). Instead of it being this glorious, Marvelesque fight where everyone bands together against one common enemy, it’s just another situation in which they are brutally exploited.
And I would genuinely be OK with all of this as some sort of tragic story that ended terribly for everyone and there was no real solution or progress, just more bloodshed. A tale of caution.
But the creators have been very clear that they feel that this is an appropriate ending to the story and the individual characters’ stories. Specifically, they are pushing this idea that the finale was to show the characters facing the consequences of their actions. But the characters themselves aren’t the problem, it’s the society that they are living in that basically corrupted everything it touched. Mel and the council manipulated and pressured Jayce and Viktor into making weapons instead of technology that was designed to help people, while also ignoring Viktor’s steadily worsening health problems that *they caused*. Vi and Jinx were repeatedly traumatized, orphaned, and weaponized. Cait literally got away with being a dictator, but even she was manipulated by someone who was only ever able to establish power by taking advantage of the situation. Singed (OG Piltie) literally committed war crimes and got everything he wanted. And according to the creators, everyone got what they deserved. Piltover received no punishment or retribution for their oppression. The undercity got no apology or redemption/validation. Piltover got no significant consequences. They’re still in power, still rich, still have Hextech, still oppressing the undercity. And I guess that's what they deserve.
What a load of absolute horseshit. I had a lot of expectations for season 2, but "the arcane team are actually Pilties in the worst way possible" was absolutely not one of them. I'm genuinely devastated.
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forthegothicheroine · 3 months ago
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I don't know if you do requests for the Great Detectives, but I'd love to see how you think the Great Detectives would handle the murder of King Hamlet of Denmark.
This is a GREAT one! The big question is whether they all talk to the ghost of the dead king; I think I'm going to have to take that on a case-by-case basis, with whatever feels right for any specific detective.
So, in a series I do sometimes, how would various great detectives solve the murder of King Hamlet...
Sherlock Holmes: Well, obviously ghosts don't exist, so jot that down. But in Holmes's experience, living humans often pretend to be ghosts (or even make dogs pretend to be ghosts!) so who could this be? The young prince Hamlet, who everybody says has gone mad? Holmes deduces that he isn't mad at all, and is in fact conducting psychological warfare against his hated uncle; while Holmes disapproves, he concludes that the boy is completely right about Claudius due to his knowledge of the play The Murder of Gonzago, as seen when he's upset about changes in a production. The Murder of Gonzago is a play which premiered in a town in Denmark known for its manufacturing of poisons for pest control!
Hercule Poirot: Poirot is quite sad to hear that the monarch who invited him as a celebrity guest has died; why does this always have to happen when he goes on vacation? Polonius spies on the guy to see what he's up to, but Poirot is much better at snooping on people than he is, and nobody can keep anything hidden for very long. He gives a summation where he reveals Claudius killed his brother. Prince Hamlet immediately goes to attack his uncle and they struggle over a sword. King Claudius falls dead and Poirot bows out, because determining whether Hamlet should suffer consequences or just become king is not his department.
Sam and Peter: Hear me out- if we bump Hamlet down from ambiguously college-aged to ambiguously high school aged, we can replace Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. These two nerdy kids are shipped in to cheer their friend (more like acquaintance) Hamlet up, and to his surprise, they respond to his depressing monologues by taking notes and asking for further details on why the world is so corrupt. Hamlet isn't so happy about them doing an investigation into "What is up with Hamlet's super hot mom?" but when they suggest interviewing Claudius to see if he has the face of a liar, he enlists them to help out with putting on The Murder of Gonzago. The rest of the play mostly goes the same, but they find the letter Claudius planted on them and show it to Hamlet. One of the last lines of the play is when Fortinbras is looking at everyone lying dead, but then Osric points out "Sam and Peter are alive!"
Phryne Fisher: Phryne is a dubious (if genteel) woman Laertes has taken up with, whom Polonius is doing everything in his power to drive away. Phryne doesn't care, but it does bring her attention to the fact that the man is apparently constantly spying on everyone in the castle. On whose behalf is he doing this? King Claudius? Is he afraid someone may assassinate him because of his brother's suspicious death? What was the official story about that, anyway? She exchanges sexy insults with Prince Hamlet, refusing to be cowed, and ultimately agrees to play the queen in his production of The Murder of Gonzago (where she gets a little too into the love scene.) When she turns and looks directly in Claudius's eye in the audience during a crucial line, she can see the answer to everything. Claudius tries to convince Laertes to kill her, saying she corrupted Ophelia into being a whore for a mad prince, but Laertes can't go through with it and kills Claudius instead.
Dale Cooper: King Hamlet's ghost tells him who killed him in a dream, but Cooper doesn't remember. He befriends Horatio and tells him that in order to understand the death of the king, it is crucial for them to study an old Icelanic poem about a man who feigns madness, because the answer to the mystery lies somewhere within. Horatio doesn't totally get it, but he figures Cooper must know what he's doing and goes along with it. When everyone is gathered to watch a production of The Murder of Gonzago, Cooper first steps up onto the stage, guided by a spirit in the form of a snake wearing a crown, to announce that King Claudius killed his brother. Prince Hamlet immediately stabs his uncle. Determining whether Hamlet should suffer consequences or just become king is not Cooper's department.
Philip Marlowe: All I know is, most of this mystery involves him getting thrown off the palace grounds repeatedly and being told that a bum like him better keep away from King Claudius if he knows what's good for him. If he ever gets out of Denmark alive, Marlowe thinks to himself, he's never leaving LA during the winter ever again.
Sam Vimes: Vimes can actually interview the ghost, but that doesn't mean the case is closed. He's not worried about the ghost actually being a deceitful fiend, he just thinks there's a possibility he's wrong. After all, if Vimes was poisoned and his ghost found out some creepy relative immediately married his wife and took his job, he would also jump to conclusions! He spends a lot of time yelling at royal people and getting threatened with execution (Vimes doesn't know how his job ended up involving so many clashes with royalty, but so it goes), and is disrespectful of religion enough to spy on Claudius while he's having his remorseful confession. He can't arrest him, but he spreads the word around, and as the royal court dissolves into backstabbing and finger-pointing, Vetinari walks in with a full retinue (and more importantly, a list of all the debts Denmark owes to Ankh-Morpork) to evaluate the situation and congratulate Claudius on his "excellent decision" to abdicate. Claudius later dies of a totally natural snake bite in his ear.
Columbo:
Your Majesty, King Claudius, forgive My clumsy common nature. I am not A noble gentleman, nor do I live With such great honor as yourself- a thought, However, troubles me this night. For how Should some strange serpent come to bite a king? And why within his ear? It puzzles! Now, I beg that I may ask just one more thing…
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