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#it isn't toxic and it wasn't meant to be
karmaphone · 1 year
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dude as someone who understands the nuances of enmeshment + the varying degrees of abuse-versus-codependency I'm really more of a Beveryly-Did-Nothing-Wrong-er than the show, which is a Beverly-Is-Equally-At-Fault-er
#am I saying she did nothing wrong? no she did a bunch of stuff that was wrong#mostly lying to Genevieve when she asked her outright if it was her the whole time#but all the stuff that Elliot was doing on her own that she had no idea about? all the intrusions into her life and relationship that#Beverly didn't know how to stop? that doesn't seem like HER FAULT like it seems more like Elliot doing whatever the fuck she wants and#justifying it to them both retroactively by saying that it was all for beverly#like. the misusing her eggs to do something very very illegal and possibly unethical WITHOUT HER KNOWLEDGE OR PERMISSION the second that she#sets a boundary is um. like a big red flag to me about the nature of their relationship#I'm not saying they're not codependent or anything but like. holy shit how do you get off blaming Beverly for any of this#the end was very much Her Choice (kinda? hormones + trauma + cycling back into toxic patterns is uh. something really hard to break out of)#but like. holy god do you not see how Elliot was the bigger influence on this outcome#most of Beverly's unhappiness was due to the certainty of it making Elliot UNhappy#THATS what was killing her not that she wasn't meant to be happy. we need to compare this to the scenes of women feeling deformed for#uterine Abnormalities or for having miscarriages#like the. my body isn't meant to have babies my body kills babies directly translates over to the lines about not being meant to be happy#like. that's not the case it makes sense for you to feel that way but I promise that's not the case! fuck! this was such a compelling show#I'm mad that it ended on such a shitty note!! I can't say I didn't see it coming but like. fuck!!! what was any of it For!!!!!
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scoliosisgoblin · 1 year
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Rip Beth
She doesn't exist in my book :)
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katsukikitten · 4 months
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A rambling that adds more detail to this post about hockey players Izuku and Katsuki.
It doesn't help that you're the coach's pretty little daughter of one of the best hockey teams. At every home game and nearly every away game, you're there behind the plexiglass, insisting you buy your own tickets even when your dad can get you in for free. But occasionally you'll take his offer of a free game although it usually comes with the stipulation of being shoved into one of the manager's polo's, given a clipboard, and since this happened to be an away game you'd be forced to sit on the rowdy bus for the three hour drive.
But you really wanted to watch the championship and your paycheck came in too late when the rival match finals were FINALLY announced, it didn't help that the tickets were sold out in seconds!
So you'll stand by Daddy dearest trying to look important just behind the bench inside the cramped box the team will sit in while they wait to come on and off the ice. The team of course had to arrive early and since this was an away game, you had to look every bit the part of staff as everyone else. Which meant you too had to be in the locker room while the men stripped themselves with ease. Snarling and shoving playfully in the pre game excitement, arguing over who moved who's helmet and “where the fuck are we gonna eat after we win tonight?!”
Some of them speaking lewdly off their latest piece of ass and how Bakugou “had her barkin like a bitch in heat.” Before a chorus of laughs is shared sided from a hissed “Kacchan!” followed by a rough shove into metal lockers.
It isn't until they're all pulling on their jerseys on does your dad clear his throat. Giving the speech of the century but it half falls on deaf ears. Your cheeks burn as you feel every eye on you as if they only just now realized you'd been there the whole time but two men in partial catch your eye.
Izuku, beat red under his freckles, brows furrowed as if he's embarrassed he had such a dirty mouth in front of a lady. Embarrassed of the ‘locker room talk’ and how your tight pair of jeans has his cock twitching at the thought of you barking like a bitch in heat. His gloved hand comes to grip at the nape of his neck but it does little to quell the drunken gaze he gives you, his heated cheeks morphing into pure lust. Emerald eyes slipping around the room and when he sees Todoroki staring too intently at you his glare becomes deadly. Shouto looks away and then Izuku finds another poor soul to glare at, already possessive over something that wasn't even his.
The other being a toxic bromine, smiling wolfishly palming himself roughly as he keeps eye contact with you. Strong grip with his other hand on his hockey stick as he daydreams about you. He wants you in doggy first then missionary because you're so fuckin pretty and he's dying to know what you look like when you cum. Especially when you're creaming on his cock. He's dreamt about you before, he's fucked his fist to you before and he sure as hell has knocked some asshole’s teeth out over you before. It didn't matter if it was his own teammates or the opposing team with the exception that Izuku was allowed to make an occasional comment but no more than three before the childhood rivals would be at each other's throats.
Their gaze are always a little unnerving with their intensity, almost predatory and yet it never makes you feel uncomfortable. They'd proven before that they'd protect you when push came to shove, they did four seasons ago when you first moved to the city and before anyone on the team even knew the coach had kids, let alone a daughter. The bar was crowded, it was a rival team against some other team the city happened to give less of a shit about. The players were on an off day enjoying their few hours off the ice and of course the rough men chose a bar where they could watch a fucking hockey game and shoot shit.
You'd finally found a table with a decent view of one of the many TVs and the bar so you could easily get up and get yourself a drink. But your new male coworker offered to bully his way through the players for you, ending up at the end of the bar by a bulky curly haired man and loud ass ash blonde. Getting caught up in the game and taking your eyes off your coworker but only for a moment.
“Are you trying to spike her drink?” A thick scarred hand is over one of the glasses on the bar top, your coworker flushed red.
“Huh?”
“Ya fuckin dumb?” The ash blonde reaches over the curly haired man, yanking your coworker’s tie harshly, effectively smashing the man's face into the polished wood.
“He said were ya tryin to date rape that pretty woman over there?” The blonde cocks his head in your direction, a group of eight eyes turn to look over their shoulder and then back at your shitty coworker. Who stammers, tried to get himself out of the lie before the sweetest, deadliest voice comes from the freckled sunshine boy of the team.
“Smile.” But there's nothing but malice in his eyes as he snaps the photo, immediately texting it to every bar owner he knows. (Half the city!) Your coworker fled and they offered up a seat at the bar for you but you politely declined after that they periodically glanced back to see if you left yet and if you were still okay.
So it wasn't like the only thing they wanted was to get their dick wet right?
Bedsides what probably made you super hot to them was the fact that you were the coach’s daughter, aka off limits.
Sighing as you watch them skate around the rink gracefully despite their size, Izuku and Katsuki passing to one another before taking shots at Kirishima in his full gear as they all warm up. Soon the stadium will be packed with throngs of people pressing into the glass behind you. Most of them rival fans banging on the plexi in hopes to distract or rile up the team, not realizing you'd be distraction enough.
Because all night a pair of emerald and bromine eyes will be glued to you. One giving his killer smile and the other smirking as he delivers a deadly wink.
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bunnyhugs77 · 4 months
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Daddy Daycare
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Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader
Word Count: 6.7k
Part: 1, 2, 3
Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.
Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.
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"And the kiss. Oh, Vanessa, the kiss was something else!" You exclaim, helping to set up the Christmas decorations around the class.
It was only the day after Thanksgiving which means the Christmas season was now in full swing. Stepping up on the small stepping stool to hang the green tinsel over the whiteboard.
"It sounds like you had a good night. What's the problem then?" Vanessa sets up the miniature Christmas tree in the corner.
"I did. Everything was going so well. Dare I say perfectly, until his phone was going off non stop from someone named Hanna saying things like 'when am I gonna see you again' and 'I can't stop thinking about our night together'"
Vanessa gasps. "So what did Jungkook say?" You chew on our bottom lip, "He was putting Ryan to bed in the other room, so he wasn't there when I saw those messages pop up." She tsks.
"I tried to tell you. Nothing good comes from dealing with a parent." You sighed heavily, looking out the window at the playground that was covered in a thick white blanket of snow.
"I know, but I couldn't help it. Him and his stupid smile and his pretty eyes." Vanessa hums smugly. "I'm sure Hanna thinks the same thing." You groan. She's right.
"You're right, I shouldn't get involved. She could be the mother of his child for all I know."
"For your own sake. You better pray she's not. Ex's are a royal pain in the-"
"Good Morning." Vanessa interrupts her own words as she greets the parents that walked in.
Crouching near the bookshelf while you organized the fallen books, from the corner of your eye you were able to pick up on the entrance of your minor headache. Not Ryan, of course, his father.
Ryan was just a sweetheart who greeted you with a hug so tight that he'd knocked you out of your crouched position onto your bum. "Ryan! Be careful." You'd never heard Jungkook's voice so stern. You make sure the boy is okay and help him back to his feet before moving your hair back to where it should be.
"Sorry, Ms. Hill." He apologizes with those big brown eyes that he clearly gets from his dad. "It's okay, I'm fine." You reassure with a smile and he runs off.
Jungkook offers you his hand to help you up but you stand on your own, dusting off your jeans with a clearing of your throat. "Are you okay?" He asks.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I promise. I landed on the carpet."
"That's not what I meant." He says.
Taking a quick glance around the classroom, noticing some parents still making their way in and out of the classroom and the kids making their way to their seats. "You know, now really isn't a good time-" About to move out of his way, he steps in front of you.
Instinctively your eyes rolled, trying to remember what Vanessa told you. Not to get involved. "I know you saw the texts. Let me explain." You shake your head, "It's none of my business, there's nothing to explain. You should get going. I wouldn't want you to be late for work."
With that said, you walk away, heading towards the desks where your students waited patiently for instruction.
Jungkook walked out of the daycare that day deflated and unable to think about anything aside from you, and that look in your eyes. Like you were disappointed, as if you had high hopes for him and he let you down.
He thought he could just move past it, maybe even accept that things wouldn't work out between the two of you, but seeing you everyday, smiling with all the other parents and giving him nothing more than a simple head acknowledgement was killing him.
As much as he wanted to explain himself, he didn't want to force himself into your life. He wanted you to want to hear him out, even if that meant the two of you not talking much or at all for a few weeks then he was going to have to be okay with that.
But there were some days he had to physically restrain himself from breaking the no-contact. He remembers the day vividly. It was the first week back from winter break, maybe he was so pent up because he hadn't been able to see you for two weeks or if it was how good you looked in your leggings.
All he knows is that somewhere between that mix and you squatting to pick something from off the ground, for the briefest of seconds he'd caught sight of the strappy black thong that rose over your hips before they were hidden once again under your bottoms.
No one would've noticed it. No one that wasn't mildly obsessed with you that is. He quickly sent Ryan off and left for work. Managing to somehow squeeze in 13 hours of work into an 8 hour shift, he'd overcompensated as a means to distract himself.
"So you guys just haven't talked since you shooed him?" Vanessa asks for clarification, wrapping her scarf securely around her neck, getting ready to head out after offering you a ride which you couldn't object to, weather conditions were worsening as you were entering the heart of winter in the middle of January.
"I didn't shoo him, but I definitely would've handled things differently if I knew he would start avoiding me. I didn't want things to end like this." You explain, digging your hands deep into your pockets the moment the two of you stepped outside. The chilling air blew in your hair and around your earmuffs with determination.
You strapped yourself in passenger seat, "So you didn't actually want things to end?" With your head laying back on the headrest you puffed out a stressed breath, unintentionally making a small circle of condensation on your window. Like a child you drew a little heart in the middle.
"I thought I did, y'know? Wanted to do what you said and stay away, but maybe I got hasty." She hums oddly, making a ominous "Mhm" sound. "What does that mean?" She pulls out of the parking lot slowly, the snow was really falling tonight, laying on the ground in thick increments.
"Nothing." Turning to face her with your body, "No, no. Say it."
"I've been here. You know I've been here, I've been in a very similar position, but I did somehow manage to get a decent outcome, but things could've gotten much worse, not just for the relationship but for his kid at the time. So, I guess what I'm saying is, take this little break to really think about if this is the kind of thing you want to get yourself involved in."
You nodded, sitting with your hands in your lap like an obedient child. Really taking what Vanessa was saying into deep consideration. Deciding to reflect on it for the rest of the car ride to your building.
"What a day." You sigh, as you drop your keys onto the small counter you kept near the door.
The first thing you noticed was how cold it was inside your apartment, as if trying to compete with the flurrying outdoors. "Why is it so cold in here?" You whisper to yourself.
Flicking on the lights, or at least that's what you wanted. "What the--" the switch flies up then down then up again with the tip of your finger as you restlessly try to turn the lights on. "You've got to be joking."
Wrapping yourself tighter into your jacket as you walk through your dark apartment, relying on the sheer memorization of the layout to get you to the bathroom where you tried turning on the tap. Nothing.
The pipes must've frozen. and the snowstorm blew out your power.
This was great news for you, you'd always loved the movie Frozen and now you get to experience it first hand!!
"You've reached the voicemail box of--"
"Fuck you!" You shout at your phone after 5 hours and the twelfth attempt you'd made at calling your landlord. He's always been an asshole but ignoring his tenants when they were freezing to death is an all new low even for him.
You'd managed to wrap yourself in a blanket burrito surrounded by the 4 candles you were able to light before your hands began to freeze. Your body was barely managing to keep warm until you remembered the small cheap space heater you'd bought from a thrift store a few years back.
But it was buried deep in your closet. However, it took you no time to find it as you dug through the mountains of miscellaneous objects and finally pulled it out from the bottom.
Rushing to plug it in with desperation. Then you remembered. There was no power. As badly as you wanted to scream and toss the heater across your dimly lit room, you didn't. Instead you sat quietly in your burrito and began to cry.
What if this was it?
Tomorrow your students would find out their teacher had frozen to death. Were you being dramatic? You weren't even sure. You're not even sure how they would react, but you're sure the parents would be shocked- and Jungkook.
Jungkook.
"Jungkook!" You gasp. Your freezing hands reaching for your phone, trying to type in his number as fast as you could but your joints felt like they were dead locked in place and moved 1 key per minute.
The phone began to ring, and ring,,,
On the other end of the line, Jungkook was also having a pretty rough night. Laying on his bed with his bare stomach facing the ceiling eyes wide open and his brain a never ending circus.
He tried to focus on his breathing, but he couldn't sleep.
He hasn't been able to get a good sleep for a few months now.
Turning on his side he looked at the picture of him and Ryan at his third birthday party. He was so much smaller then. 'I looked so happy' he thinks to himself with a sad smile on his face.
Beginning to wish that Ryan was with him in that moment but he knew it was for the best that he'd dropped him at his parents' for the weekend. He was beginning to enter one of those episodes and he couldn't stop it, no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how hard he tries to.
Ryan deserved a father who could be happy all the time-- He sits up. Holding his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. Erasing those thoughts- trying to. Slowly letting his vision roam back to his night stand drawer where he kept his pills.
God, was it always going to be like this?
Lifelessly he reached for the handle and pulled it open, his hands blindly reaching for the cylindrical bottle and unscrewing the cap taking the recommended dose before putting it away.
He lays back down with a soft grunt, staring up at the ceiling tumultuously. Resting his hands on his firm core, focusing on the way it rises and falls with every breath, thinking about the day it stops. The day he's no longer sentenced to the time he's currently serving in his own mind-
"I should try to get some sleep" He mumbles to no one in particular.
His eyes shoot open after a mere 3 seconds of being closed. He listens to it ring, ring and ring, not sure he's in the mood to be taking any calls right now.
Though, it may be his parents with an emergency. He finds himself rolling onto his stomach, more than shocked to see your name pop up on his phone.
"Hello?"
"H-Hi! It's me. I'm sorry if I woke you up," Your voice was refreshing, like the first ray of sunshine after a dark and stormy night or the smell of fresh coffee in the morning.
"No, you didn't wake me. What's up?" You weren't sure if you were looking too deep into things but he sounded different. His voice was flatter, none of that familiar bubbly hint to be found in it, then again, It was nearly one in the morning.
"You probably don't remember but you gave me your card, and said if I ever had any technical issues I could give you a call," your teeth were chattering, prompting you to wrap yourself even tighter.
"I remember." How could he forget.
"Yea! Well, my apartment has no power or running water, so its pretty cold over here, and I was wondering if you had any tips or tricks on how to get something to work."
He sits up abruptly. "What?"
"Yeah, my landlord is pretty shitty and hasn't answered my calls, I'm not even sure if maintenance is available or even knows about the situation themselves." You hear some muffling on the other end assuming he'd dropped his phone but it was actually Jungkook rushing to put on a shirt.
"Hello?" you say blankly, wondering if you'd lost connection.
"It's a fucking snowstorm outside. You'll freeze." You laugh, and that stops him in his tracks for a moment, "Oh I know, I'm getting a little taste of that right now actually. Do you by any chance know what the first signs of frostbite are?"
"Send me your address, I'm coming to get you."
"No, Jungkook. I wont let you do that, the roads are terrible." He doesn't respond, or maybe he does, you couldn't hear over the sound of keys jingling.
Clearly it was useless trying to change his mind, and the last thing you'd want is for him to go out of his way for nothing so you sent him your address.
What would usually be 15 minute drive had turned into 40 with the poor weather conditions but it wasn't any more than an hour before you heard knocking on your door.
Still wrapped in your thick blankets you opened it.
"Are you alright? How do you feel?" Jungkook inspects you, taking your hands in his, "You're ice cold." He says, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing his hand warmers in yours. "Keep those, they'll help you warm up." He insists.
"Do you have everything?" You nod while briefly raising your overnight bag. "Okay, let's go."
The drive over was silent, you somehow managed to fit your seatbelt over your jacket and blanket that you couldn't part with. Jungkook periodically looked over to se if you were okay, never actually saying anything but the concern in his eyes was evident with every glance.
The first step inside his place gave you chills, the good kind, finally. Not the ones that left you shaking for warmth. It was so warm, Jungkook took your bag while walking you towards the living room as he turned on the fireplace, suggesting you warm up before doing anything else.
"Here," He hands you a warm mug of hot chamomile with a bit of honey for sweetness. "Thank you, Jungkook. For everything." You say sincerely, afraid you'd be repaying him for all the times he'd saved your ass in this life and the next.
"Don't mention it." Unwilling to accept such a humble response, "No. I'm serious. I disturbed your night, and you dropped everything to help me." He smiles for the first time all night, it was a small one but it was still a smile.
"I told you, already. I wasn't doing anything. I'm actually glad you called, it was nice to get out of my head for a bit." your head tilts unconsciously at that last part. "Nevermind." Checking his watch, it was nearly three in the morning.
"I set up your stuff in my room. It's getting pretty late, you should get some rest." Your eyes were feeling pretty heavy now that he mentioned it, you didn't fight it. Slowly standing from the pile of throw overs you'd buried yourself underneath making your way upstairs.
"Wait." You pause at the first step.
"Where's Ryan?" You should've realized sooner, but what could you say, you were a bit wrapped up earlier. Literally. "He's at his grandparents, probably snoring right now as we speak." You smile.
You'd gotten ready, taking a much needed shower and tying your hair back into two braids so that they would have some soft waves for tomorrow.
You sat cross legged on Jungkook's bed with your MacBook on your lap as you went through some of the classroom picture's you were yet to send to parents from the Winter Wonderland Concert the daycare had put on last week.
"Hey," Your head snaps up to see Jungkook peeking his head through the door, "I just wanted to say Goodnight." He says and you smile, but you'd just come across something you're sure he would love to see.
"Come look at this video of Ryan singing his interpretation of the opera singer we had perform last week." Jungkook sits beside you on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him.
He paused when he turned to look at you, "What?" Your face is puzzled at his concentrated expression. "I didn't know you wore glasses?" He says and it reminds you that this was the first time he'd seen you with lenses on, or anyone for that matter.
"Yeah, I usually wear contacts-- Look! This is the part," You get distracted as the video begins to play. And somehow one video turns into five and the computer slides off your lap into the gap between the both of you as your head laid against his padded shoulder.
You'd fallen asleep. Slowly Jungkook closes the laptop and places it on the nightstand, even more carefully removing your glasses and placing them on top of the stowed away device.
Letting you down gently until your head hits the pillow, he sneakily begins to slip out of your grasp. "Stay." You say, your eyes closed and body still. Maybe he was hearing things. He shakes it off and begins to step away.
"Please, m'Cold." You mumble into the pillow with your eyes still shut.
"Do you want me to turn up the heat?" He offers like the gentleman he is, for the first time he saw a sign of consciousness as you slightly shake your head. "I want you to stay, please?"
He was nervous. Settling himself under the convers with you, remaining as far as possible and turning off the bedside lamp. Within two minutes his body froze as you'd rolled over from your side until your head was on his chest.
He wonders if you could feel the way his heart was racing.
you could.
"Relax," you quip, half-awake. Oddly enough, that actually does help him to relax, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist for comfort. Feeling your body against his didn't trigger his perversions as he once thought it would.
It felt so much better than that. He felt, comfortable. The way your body radiated a calming heat onto him and reassured him that someone was both physically and emotionally present was just enough to lull him to sleep.
As the night morphed into a radiant sunrise you began to stir in your sleep. Your limbs stretching across the the grey sheets and soft blankets while the tips of your fingers roamed the surface.
Slowly remembering where you were and realizing you were in the bed alone. Though you specifically remember going to sleep with him. When did he get up?
Tugging down the leg of your sweatpants that had rolled up at the ankle at some point during your blissful sleep. Rubbing your eyes as you stepped into the bathroom to brush your teeth before finally following that pleasant scent that was wafting around the house.
"Still avoiding me?" You joke as you laid your eyes on Jungkook's broad back that was facing you as he flipped pancakes. He turns to you with a lopsided smile.
"Avoiding you?" Nodding, letting your hands trace the back of the chair before taking a seat at the island, watching him.
"Yeah, you've been avoiding me since thanksgiving." His brows furrow then raise in a mix of confusion and astonishment. "Me? I have not been avoiding you. I was giving you space."
Bracing your hands down on the countertop you shake your head. "Yes you have. Every day you see me and just leave, not a good morning or anything."
Jungkook flips this battered treat a little harder than he should. "Yeah, because the last time I had tried to talk to you, you made it pretty clear you didn't want to talk, so why would I force it?"
You sigh. Vanessa was right, maybe you did shoo him. "I didn't mean to disregard you so inconsiderately, I was just-- I don't know what I was feeling in that moment, honestly." He turns to face you once again, leaning back on the counter.
"I know, that's why I wanted to explain myself." Your eyes watch his buff chest raise and fall as he takes a deep breath, "My eyes are up here." He points between the two of you, and you felt like you could just fall over and die.
You clear your throat, deciding that you simply couldn't make eye contact with him at all after that!
He notices your embarrassed body language, "Hey, I was just joking, I don't mind your eyes wandering a little." He teases and it somehow made your face even hotter, you were afraid you would burst into flames.
"Just-Just go back to what you were saying." You almost plead as you run a hand through your wavy hair.
Jungkook plates the last pancake on to your elegantly presented plate, before sliding it in front of you. Making a plate for himself he decides to eat standing up in front of you with his plate on the counter you could maintain direct eye contact.
"I met Hana about a year ago at Ryan's old school before we switched here. She's another parent I'd met at one of their events. I was going through a lot of shit back then, so relationships were the furthest thing from my mind but one night about 6 months ago, our kids were away at a summer camp for 2 days; and after a few play dates over the prior months, she'd called me to let me know that Ryan had left one of his toys at her place. So I went to pick it up, but we ended up talking, had a few drinks and one thing led to another and then shit hit the roof." He sighs before taking a bite of his breakfast, which is delicious by the way.
Your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, subconsciously of course but Jungkook took it as an indication to explain. "I made sure it was clear to her it was just a one time thing and she agreed. For the first few weeks I thought we were on the same page, but then she started calling me and leaving these... desperate voicemails. After that I already knew I wouldn't be be bringing Ryan back to that preschool, besides their teachers were terrible." You nod, no longer eating as the story kept you fed and engaged.
"At first I thought she would stop over time, but she didn't. It only got worse, so I finally called her back to let her know she needed to stop but she wanted to have the conversation in person, which sounded reasonable to me at the time, but I should've seen right through it because low and behold, the same mistake was made, once again."
"Wait," You pause him, "So when did you guys hook up the second time?" His eyes look up to the ceiling as though the answer was written on it, "Sometime around the end of August, just a few weeks before school started." The twinge of jealousy that bubbled in your stomach was undeniable but you had no right to be jealous. He literally had no idea you existed at the time.
"And she kept calling your phone all the way until Thanksgiving?" you say with a weird tone, unsure how Jungkook would've let her continue to bother him for so long. Almost with shame he nods,
"I kept saying I would get around to cutting her off once and for all, but I went to a pretty dark place, y'know how life can get sometimes. I didn't care much for anything at all, but when I saw what it had done to us," he gestures between the two of you, "I realized my negligence was driving away people that were important to me, and I didn't want to lose you. So I had ended things with her once and for all shortly after new years. Y'know, wanting to start off the year fresh and shit like that."
You swallow, "I had no idea, you were going through such a hard time." You say almost sadly but maintain the soft smile on your face. A similar one creeping onto his face, "Well then that's good. Means the antidepressants are doing their job." He chuckles and you didn't know whether to laugh along or be concerned.
"It's okay Y/n, you can laugh." You smile, "I-I just don't know what to say. All this time I was thinking I was some kind of home-wrecker or that you were seeing someone else, but to hear you explain what was actually going on makes me feel like such an idiot."
Jungkook scoffs jokingly, "Homewrecker? If Ryan's mother was still in the picture, a 'homewrecker' would be exactly what I would need, and a bullet to the head if I'm being honest." he shakes his head, remembering what he describes as the worst time in his life. Your hand boldly clasps over your mouth stifling a laugh at his dramatic expression.
He laughs, "I'm serious, though." His smile fades, "Those are seven years I can never get back." You flinch at the number, that's almost a decade. Calculations begin to roll around your head autonomously. "So-" You begin to say but he already knew where you were going with this.
"We met at 15, had Ryan at 21 unexpectedly, but no regrets of course, and broke up at 22, thank god." Releasing a calming breath of air as he says that last part, clearly they didn't end on good terms if he feels so at peace every time he mentions her absence.
"But that's enough about me for the day. How's your apartment? Any updates on the power?" You shake your head, digging back into your food, "Hopefully it should be fixed by tonight, I'd hate to over stay my welcome." Jungkook rolls his eyes, "You know I want you here more than anything, and I'm not letting you go back to your place until things are up and running again."
You didn't bother fighting him on it, you knew it would be you fighting a losing battle so you let him have it.
It would be a lie to say that you didn't enjoy your lazy Saturday with Jungkook, the two of you lounged around the house talking the day away. You watched breaking bad and kept saying that you had to stop to do some schedule planning for the kids but you couldn't seem to leave the couch, or his arms. "Just one more episode" becoming a meaningless statement.
He was seriously invested in your stories from your travels in Europe over the summer, expressing how he dreams to visit one day.
Time seemed to have zoomed for the next 3 hours, now bringing you to a dark sky and the crackling fireplace keeping you warm as you played a childish round of truth or drink.
The two of you sat comfortably on the carpet with the game cards stacked neatly on the coffee table which was also responsible for holding your shot glasses.
Your chest was already warm from the consequences of three passed questions while Jungkook only had passed two.
"Your turn," your voice bubbly and excited as you pick up the card for Jungkook, flipping it over to ask him. "What's something you've never told anyone?" He sits there, and you can see he really thinks about it. Glancing back and forth between the shot glass and the card in your hand.
"I'm a millionaire." He says it so casually, with a bit of booze in your brain you begin to die of laughter. "Yeah, me too." You snicker, slwoly beginning to quiet down as you realize he wasn't laughing with you.
"Oh my god, are you being serious?" He shrugs, "I guess so. Remember when I said I was going through a lot of shit a year ago? Well part of that stems from me getting some cryptic ass letter that basically announced the death of some rich guy who claimed to be my biological father and left me his inheritance."
You sit there quietly, "I showed my parents the letter as a gag, expecting to get a good laugh out of it and that turned out to be one of the most depressing conversations I'd ever endured." Jungkook honestly wasn't sure why he was telling you all this, he'd told you things today he never thought he'd share with anyone but there was something that let him feel like he could be open with you.
"So you're telling me, you found out you were adopted and suddenly a millionaire on the same day." A slow nodding of his head was all it took for you to see he clearly wasn't thrilled about it. "I still haven't touched the money, really. Although I did use it to cover my parents' mortgage for the next few years. I don't really know what to do with the rest of it."
A small hum escapes your throat as you ponder, "If you ever feel like it's a burden to you, don't hesitate to just pass it on to me. It'll be hard but I'm sure I could think of something to do with it." His head falls back as his body shakes slightly with his laughter, "I'll keep that in mind."
"Your turn," He says, hands reaching to flip over a card as he reads it out to you. "How many people have you slept with?" He makes a certain face at the card as if he was displeased. "This is a bit invasive, do you want me to pick up another one?" You shrug, "I don't mind answering. It's one."
"Like one this year?" It slips out before he can catch it, and he regrets it, you can tell. "No. Just one person, ever. My ex. I'm not really one to have any sexcapades. I have a rule." You're sure if he had bunny ears, one would flop up in curiosity. "Oh?"
"I never go all the way with someone until at least six months of dating them so I can see that they're all in for the right reasons. hence why only one has made it so far. Everyone else usually thinks they can like persuade me three months in." Suddenly your throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. "Is that a deal breaker for you?" Intently you watched the way he played with the ring hooped in his bottom lip with a serious expression.
"Are you saying we're dating, Y/n?" A teasing smirk spreads across his lips. You look away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze on your from a mere foot away. "If that's okay with you-" A gentle hand cups your jaw as he turns you to face him, taking your breath away with a sweet kiss. His lips were as soft as you remembered them to be.
You could feel a certain shift in the kiss, turning from gentle and sweet to something a little deeper. It were as though there were magnets between your bodies, you found yourselves impossibly close to the point Jungkook forced himself to pull away from you, only to welcome you to straddle his hips.
"I'm okay with that." he grins before resuming his passionate attack on your lips.
2:04am
Your glasses were on and your hair was up, that was a sign that it was time for you to finally go to sleep yet here you were. Sitting up at the table with a stack of files you'd brought from your place that you needed to go through.
The border around your eyes were tinted red as you strained to stay up and finish, but you weren't even close.
"You're still up?" Jungkook says softly as he comes down in nothing but his black sweatpants. "I could ask you the same thing." Hardly sparing him a glance as you write down numbers onto the papers.
"You know I don't sleep much ever since I got my prescription. I can get 3-4 hours at night if I'm lucky." You frown, finally looking up at him, proud of yourself for not letting your jaw hit the floor as you patrolled him as he went to fill a glass of water from the fridge.
You knew he had a sleeve of tattoos, it was one of the first things you'd noticed about him, but you had no idea his back had its own art as well. The sleeve of tattoos that creeped over the back of his shoulder as it morphed into the most beautiful pair of inked angel wings that spread out across the expanse of his upper back.
You swallowed, shaking away your filthy thoughts. "What's got you up so late?" He leans over you to get a glimpse at the papers. "Regulatory compliances." It was so cute when he was confused. "Basically I have to cross reference the curriculum with our lesson plans and report that everything we're doing is aligned with the boards' outline." It dawns on him in the form of a soft 'ah'.
"When does this have to be done by?"
"Wednesday," It comes out with a rough tone and exhausted groan, you were clearly stressed. "Okay, Y/n, it's only Sunday. How about you put a pin in it and get some rest, hm?" Warm hands are placed on your shoulders and you nearly fall asleep right there but you shake your head, "I'm fine, I can keep going-" You yawn for what must be the 4th time since Jungkook came down.
"Okay, That's it. Come on, we're going to bed." He closes your files and takes your hand, letting you hop out of the chair and follow him up the steps debatably against your will as you're sure you would've given up no longer than 15 minutes later.
The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light. Jungkook chuckles to himself softly at the thought that you truly tried to argue that you weren't tired.
He slips in beside you, loving the way your body naturally detected him and began to roll over towards him just like you did the night before, slotting yourself into his side. Once again, your warmth and the soft feeling of your heartbeat on his ribcage mixing together, prompting his brain to release enough melatonin until his eyes closed.
-
"Good news." Is the first thing you say as you walk into the living room at 2pm after your well needed shower. "The power is working again at my place," Jungkook pouts at what he took as bad news, he was not-so-secretly hoping you would be staying a little longer.
"Don't look so sad, you see me literally every day." the dimple in your right cheek making a brief appearance as you smiled, making your way over to him on the couch.
"I know, but I really like having you here." You poke his cheeks that puffed up with his sad expression. "If you want to see me a little longer, then would you be okay with giving me a ride back to my place?"
He scoffs, "It's funny you thought I wasn't going to drop you off in the first place." he leans forward to drop a quick peck to your lips catching you off guard before bouncing up out of his spot, hardly giving you a chance to process.
The two of you making comfortable conversation with small giggles as you begin to put your jackets on, preparing to return you back to your apartment. Tugging your hat on with a firm pull before you picked up your bag and declared that you were ready to go.
Jungkook opened the door, stepping out with you closely behind him. Not sure if your eyes were blinded by the gleaming light that was reflected off the snow or the bright flashes of light emitted from the dozens of paparazzi camped outside the driveway.
Jungkook's name was shouted from various different people as they waved to get his attention as if being outside his front door wasn't alarming enough. Jungkook's face had been covered in disbelief just like yours, but differently he was able to shake it off and maintain his composure.
Taking your hand in a reassuring manner, he continued his path down the steps, whispering to you to keep your head down as you followed behind him. "Is it true that you're the secret son of the late business tycoon Jeon Jaehoon?" The woman holds a microphone to Jungkook, looking for an answer, and she most certainly got one.
"How about you ask me again when I make sure you're all behind bars for trespassing and harassment hm? How does that sound?" The flashes finally stop and some photographers begin to leave, Jungkook doesn't even wait for them all to leave, trusting that he got his point across clearly and makes his way to the drivers seat.
Once the doors closed it was as though you'd trapped in a foot deep layer or tension within it. Jungkook's chest rises slowly, flared nostrils and tensed brows before a slow and agitated exhaled. "It wasn't you right?" He asks.
Your posture straightens as you face him.
"What?"
"Tell me that it's all just a coincidence, Y/n. I tell you about the inheritance last night and suddenly there's paparazzi buzzing outside my house today?" Your head juts back, offended. "Are you implying that I told someone what you told me in confidence last night? Are you being serious right now?"
"I'm paranoid, okay? I'm sorry."
You sigh. As pissed as you wanted to be, you had to see it from his perspective. A swarm of paparazzi showing up less than than 24 hours after he shares the information with the first person outside his family doesn't exactly work in your favour.
"It's fine, I get it. I'd be paranoid too." He starts the car, leaving his now vacated lot behind. "Then who would do this?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
-
The following day was as hectic as any other day but you loved your job. Working with such big personalities that were bursting out their small bodies.
But you did love the end of the day too, sayin goodbye and mentally preparing for some relaxation when you finally got home. All day you'd be fantasizing about drawing a nice warm bath with eucalyptus and lavender oils.
You thought of it as the perfect way to wind down after a long day. Although seeing Jungkook's face for a few minutes while he picked up Ryan.
"I'm here to pick up my son." You turn around with a smile, to the new and unfamiliar face. She was tall with dark long locks that were curled at the ends, her heels were high and her face was looked like it belonged billboards and magazines.
You were a bit confused, you'd never seen her before, and you're sure you'd remember someone that brought in such a domineering aura the way she did.
"Sure, if you don't mind me asking who you are." You wanted to remain as polite as possible not wanting to offend her.
"I'm Ryan's mother."
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lovelettersfromluna · 6 months
Text
Supercut
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Summary: “In my head, I play a supercut of us.”
an: halfway through writing this I decided that this isn't technically the finale hehe, more of cam girl!Ellie come, this is just the end of them being stupid. mwah mwah love you all more than you know.
Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, angst, cam girl!ellie, Ellie is a real idiot in this one tbh, arguing, hurt/eventual comfort, toxic!Ellie, tribbing, making out, pet names, this one is a little short im sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!!
Read part 1 here, and part 2 here!
You know that gross feeling you get whenever you look back at old pictures or videos? You know, the one that you feel at the pit of your stomach, and it makes you really happy but also really sad? What's that called again?
Oh, right. Its melancholy
It's that feeling where you have a specific memory, and you know that no matter what, that time is gone. You can't replicate it, and the only place that it will live is in the confides of your own mind
And it sucks, because you don't even know when those moments are going to be made. There's no warning in your brain that the day you have planned is going to be so impactful to your life, that you will constantly chase that feeling, trying to replicate what it was that made that time so blissful so that you can feel that same warmth again.
You don't even get the chance to savor it while it lasts.
It almost makes you feel like you never wanted those times to happen to begin with, because you would have been fine without them. Sacrifice one of the times of your life so that you wouldn't have to spend countless nights laying in bed, only hoping that you will experience something that can even come close to how it all felt in the past.
Most of the time, it's easy to simply look back at those memories, feel that disgusting mixture of happiness and sadness, and then move on.
But for some god awful reason, you can't seem to do that this time.
This time, it lingers. It sits there, knocking at your chest, demanding to be acknowledged, to have all of your undivided attention, giving you no choice but to think about how fucked up this all is, how all of this was a complete and utter mistake, and how you have no way in taking it back.
It makes you wish time travel was real, yearning for some mad scientist to come out and say 'look everyone! you can reverse the mistakes you've made in the past!'.
But that doesn't happen, and you have no choice but to live with the icky feeling that settles at the pit of your stomach, and refuses to go away.
You weren't entirely sure what would happen after that night with Ellie, the night that she laid her weight on top of you, fucking you into her mattress over and over again, whispering the sweetest words into the nape of your neck, holding you the entire night through once you were finished, silence overcoming the space as you both fell into a blissful sleep.
It was hard to really tell where you both stood, but you weren't an idiot.
You knew, that you and Ellie had made love that night.
It was truly like nothing you had ever experienced. It was like you were constantly in that delicious state before sleep, where the world is soft, and everything is so comfortable right before you reach the point of unconsciousness, and everything feels so utterly perfect.
That's what it felt like, and you knew that from the moment Ellie had pulled you against her chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your head before you both fell asleep.
It happened, but God....you really wished it hadn't.
Because now? Things were so much fucking worse.
The feeling Ellie gave you scared you, and it made the ugliest thoughts fill your head when you woke up. You felt wrong, the skin on your body feeling filthy for doing something so intimate with her, with your roommate. You felt like you were taking something that wasn't yours, something that was never meant for you in that way.
So you ran.
Not far, of course. You were lucky enough to wake up before Ellie, gently peeling yourself from her body, your stomach sinking whenever she mumbled something gently in her sleep, her hands mindlessly reaching for your body before she fell back into her deep slumber.
You stood over her for a moment, watching as her eyes flickered in her sleep, lips parted as she snored gently. The feeling you had when you watched her sleep scared you, because you felt...like you wanted to stay with her, protect her, hold her in your arms and ignore the reality of how much this was fucking with your head, ignore the fact that she had simply wanted help with her work.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
You inhaled deeply before you left her room, closing her door gently before you quickly went to your bedroom, tugged on a t shirt and jeans before you grabbed your jacket and left the apartment.
You stayed out in the city all day, that day. You were like a ghost, trying to sort out the feelings that were settling in your chest, opting to simply ignore them instead. You made sure to leave your phone at home, knowing any texts from Ellie wouldn't do you any good with how you were feeling.
You didn't return home until later that afternoon, the sun setting, slowly casting the familiar darkness of night onto the city that you had come to know. You wished you could stay out longer, avoid the situation more, but it was only gettin colder, and you knew you had to go back to your apartment sooner or later.
When you got there, you were greeted by silence. You don't even hear Ellie's usual music playing from inside her room. You frowned softly, looking around a bit for any signs of the girl there. You looked down, finding that her leather jacket and helmet weren't where they usually were.
Ellie had left too.
You should've been happy at that, giving you even more time away from the girl than planned, yet you can't ignore the ugly tinge of sadness and annoyance that lingers at the back of your throat at the thought of here simply...leaving.
When you got to your room, you quickly grabbed your phone, wishfully thinking that there would be a string of messages from your roommate, asking you where you've gone, and if everything is okay between you both.
But when you unlock your phone, there's nothing there.
Not a single call, or a single text.
And you suddenly realized, that great minds think alike.
So, that's how things go with you and Ellie after that. There isn't a grand scene of love, where you both confess that you had both felt that way from the moment you set eyes on each other, there isn't a happily ever after where you become her girl, and she becomes yours. There isn't any of that, you two simply go from being friends, to barely being roommates.
You guys never speak about it. There's never a conversation that happens to even clear the air, pretending as though that night in her bedroom never happened.
There's a sense of hostility that follows after all of it happens, because Ellie won't even fucking look at you now, let alone stand in the same room as you. If you're in the living room, she's in her bedroom, and if you're in the kitchen, she leaves the apartment to go eat somewhere else.
It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, because you can practically feel the hatred she has for you radiating off of her body whenever she's around, and it's a shock to you that you two are still even living together. The Ellie that would once sit in the living room with you, practically tugging your body to sit on her lap, has succumb to someone who barely even exists to you anymore.
And it doesn't even end there.
Ellie never really had girls in and out of the apartment before, even before you and her started filming and having sex. She was pretty strict about letting others into her space, only ever bringing around girls she was dating long term, or her designated filming partner. You never had a problem with it, letting Ellie know time and time again that the place was half hers, and she could bring whoever she wanted.
But that seemingly changed after you and her happened.
Because suddenly, there's a different girl at your apartment every night, and Ellie is fucking them ten different ways into the next month.
And it always happens to be on the nights before you have to wake up early to go in and open the record store.
She becomes relentless.
You first noticed it happening when she breezed past you on a Friday night, clearly dressed up for a night out. You couldn't really ignore the way your core tightened at how fucking good she looked, the feeling quickly overshadowed by the way she yet again left the house as if you weren't sitting right there.
After getting yourself to bed for some much needed shut eye, you were rudely awakened by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the sound of tumbling and soft giggles..
Which then slowly turned into the sounds of Ellie fucking a girl in her bedroom that was directly across from yours.
And it kept going, night after night, the sound of Ellie pleasuring another woman was all that you were left with. Not even your headphones on full volume could drown out the banging of Ellies headboard against the wall.
You have never been a jealous person, especially when it came to Ellie and her sex life. However, after what happened between the both of you, and the very clear fact that Ellie was indeed doing it out of spite..
You really couldn't ignore the fire you felt at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard some random girl moaning out Ellie's name to the top of her fucking lungs.
It was then that you came to terms with the fact that enough was enough.
And you had to move out.
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It wasn't long until you wouldn't leave your room.
You seriously couldn't stomach the way it felt, being ignored by Ellie, her constant avoidance a reminder of how much of a bad idea it was to agree to filming with her in the first place. If that wasn't enough, constantly seeing her leave the apartment to go meet up with another girl started to hurt even more.
And you really didn't want to face the truth behind that.
There was something unsettling that came with the feeling it gave you, because how could you go from not even batting an eyelash at Ellie walking out of her bedroom with Julia, to feeling tears prickle at the edge of your eyes every time you heard her fucking someone else across from your room.
Because it's cruel, and you know you were wrong to leave her the way you did, but she left too. You knew that what you did was wrong, but surely you didn't deserve all of this? And why would she even want to hurt you like this in the first place? Surely you were the only one that felt this ridiculous conflicting feeling that only brought you stress.
And yet, you only found new ways to torture yourself.
It happens one night after work, you're tired and all you want to do is peel off your clothes and hop into bed.
Opting to grab your laptop, wanting to watch some mindless video on the internet to lull you to sleep, you are suddenly faced with something that had been waiting to haunt you.
A link to one of your videos with Ellie was still on your browser.
She had sent it to you a while ago, wanting to show you how well it was doing, and all the positive feedback that it was receiving, you meant to watch it at the time, but never got around to it. Now, it was sitting there, collecting dust until you decided to open it.
And you knew you shouldn't have, because that chapter of your life has closed, and you intended to keep it fully closed.
But curiosity did kill the cat, didn't it?
You didn't think twice before opening it, the link quickly flashing across your screen and taking you to Ellie's page. The thumbnail is of the two of you, the last video you guys had filmed. Its you, straddling Ellie on her bed, her strong hands gripping your hips, probably forcing you to grind down on her lap.
You feel your core tighten at the sight of it.
You don't look at it much longer, or read the comments either, because you know they will all be asking where you've gone, and whether or not you were coming back.
Instead of closing your laptop and going to sleep like you should have, you kept scrolling through Ellies page. You come to find the usual, seeing that she had been live the past few nights, as well as posted a few videos for her viewers to catch up on, none of it out of the ordinary.
Something does catch your eye however.
Its a video that was posted a few nights ago, and you can barely make it out, but you can see a thumbnail of Ellies tattooed hand pushed between a girls thighs, doing what you can only assume to be fingering her.
And that girl is definitely not you.
She had found herself a new partner.
It’s no shock that she did. She’d been actively fucking other girls, someone in and out of your apartment almost every night, something that she had made sure to make very clear to you…
But there was just something about actually seeing it that hurt like hell
You slammed your laptop shut, a bit too hard, but you were suddenly filled with something foreign to you, something that you hardly felt for anyone.
Quickly grabbing you blankets and tugging them over your body, you squeezed your eyes shut to try and erase the image of Ellie with another girl from your brain, the image slowly tainting the deepest corners of your mind so that you won't ever be able to do just that.
You couldn't do this anymore.
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Ellie was just as bad at talking about her feelings as you were.
Because the morning after you and her had sex, she wanted nothing more than to wake up with you, kiss you, hold you, move on from this agonizingly slow phase that you two were in, where she was allowed to do the things that she always wanted to do, just conditionally.
She wanted to wake up, and move forward whatever the fuck you and her were stuck in.
But you didn’t. You simply woke up before her, and left, leaving Ellie to feel like a fucking idiot.
Because maybe she read into the entire thing wrong, maybe you didn’t feel anything for her, maybe you really did only see her as your roommate and nothing more than that….
Maybe that look in your eye that she was sure she saw when she was fucking you, was all in her head.
So when you ran, she did too.
And soon, Ellie’s sadness turned into anger, and all she wanted to do, was hurt you the same way that you hurt her.
She wanted you to hear her with other girls, she wanted you to see her with other women on her streams, she wanted you to see what it was that you’d lost, what you’d stupidly lost when you decided to run away from her the morning after it all.
But maybe she’d taken it too far.
Because Ellie’s anger turned into something that she didn’t want, because no matter how much noise she made, how good she tried to look whenever she was getting ready to go out with some random girl, no matter what she did to make you jealous, you never batted an eyelash her way, you never once reacted to anything that she did that was directed at you for the sole purpose of getting your attention.
And not only did it further prove to Ellie that you didn’t give a fuck about her, but it also made her so much more frustrated with you.
Did you seriously not have a fucking soul? Could you not even acknowledge her? Hurt for her? Feel hurt by her? Why wasn’t it working? Why weren’t you…..why couldn’t you just…..
Why couldn’t you just fucking want her.
Ellie was truly at her last straw, because being with other women was something she already didn’t like doing, but it was slowly eating away at her, picking away at her insides and making her feel hollow inside, a shell of who she used to be when she was with you.
And when she didn’t think things could get any worse, she found you doing something she only saw in her nightmares.
She hadn’t really noticed it at first, but slowly, your belongings began to disappear from the apartment. Particularly in the living room.
Your stack of blankets would get smaller and smaller as the week went by, the dorky little figures you had littered around different shelves and the tv stand started to disappear too, little parts of you started leaving, one by one, and Ellie was too far up her own ass to even notice.
Maybe if she had, she could’ve convinced you to stay.
In all honesty? Ellie probably wouldn’t even have realized you were leaving until it was too late, the girl far too consumed in her little revenge streak to notice the slow but sure disappearance of you, the way the remnants of you slowly began to leave one by one.
It just so happened that on a day that you were packing up some of your boxes, you had left your door cracked open, thinking that Ellie wasn’t home.
She was passing by your room when she heard a soft huff, the sound quickly catching her attention as she slowly walked towards your door, catching sight of the various opened boxes scattered around your room that was already looking sparse due to packing it all the way.
That. That was the straw the broke the camels fucking back.
Because suddenly, Ellie is pushing your door open, the force from her hand making it slam against your wall, the loud sound making you flinch to look over in her direction with wide eyes.
“Ellie?” You question softly.
The sound of her name rolling off your tongue makes a shiver run down her spine, because god….had she missed the way you said it.
Her eyes are angry, eyebrows furrows together as her eyes scan your room, looking at the boxes, your half empty closet, your empty book shelf.
“What the fuck is going on here?” She spits out, her tone making you wince slightly. It’s the first time you’ve heard her speak to you in almost an entire month and it’s so fucking hostile, so pointed.
This really wasn’t how you wanted this to go.
You let out a soft sigh, bringing your palm up to ran along your face as you look down at the boxes as well, heart sinking at the thought of going.
“Look…Ellie…I was planning on telling you…I just-“ she’s quick to cut you off, walking further into your bedroom as her eyes scan the walls, watching as they began to grow emptier and emptier the further in she looked. She scoffs, her green eyes finally landing on yours, her smoldering grip enough to take your breath away.
“Bull-fucking-shit. You weren’t going to tell me anything, and you know that” she argues, nostrils flared as she stares at you with eyes filled with that same glare of hate that you saw every time she’d glaze over you within recent weeks.
And she was right. You had no intention of telling her anything. She would learn that you were gone once you were gone, because that’s what you did.
You always ran.
You let out a sigh of defeat before you step away from her, fully intending on continuing packing. You didn’t want this to stop you, or put anymore obstacles in your way of leaving. This was what you had to do, and you knew that.
“I can’t stay here anymore, Ellie…things are fucked up between us and I just…I won’t deal with it anymore” you mumble out, your voice tired, weak. A clear indication of how you felt towards the entire situation. It was draining you, and you knew that for your own well being, you had to get out.
The sight of you packing as if she wasn’t in your room, trying to figure out why you were leaving, makes her even more upset. It blinds her from your words, from the weakness in your voice, in your appearance. She ignores it because the anger she feels is much easier to indulge in.
"So that's it? You're just gonna leave? Without saying anything to me?" she barks out, her tone making you feel worse than you already do.
And then it all stops, because why the hell are you feeling bad when this isn't even your fault.
You slowly turn to Ellie, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her in disbelief, cocking your head to the side slowly before you start to speak.
"Are you listening to yourself right now, Ellie? Do you ever stop to think for one second that not everything is about you?" The tone of your voice is so calm, words so slow and articulated, it barely even sounds like you're mad.
And it scares you, and it scares her.
You don't stop there, you couldn't even if you wanted to.
"This wasn't my idea, none of it was. I agreed to help you because you asked it of me, and I clearly have no fucking sense of boundaries. I get that what I did was wrong, and I shouldn't have left you that morning, but no one is fucking perfect" You defend, your own breath become more shallow the more you speak, your anger and frustration finally rising to the surface.
"This isn't good for me. You aren't good for me, you've been fucking different girls every goddamn night just to hurt me, and you're a fucking liar if you deny it." you spit out, making Ellie wince slightly, yet her eyebrows never unravel from how furrowed they are, and the frown on her lips is still there.
When you said it out loud though, she realized just how bad it was.
"I did it to get your fucking attention...not to hurt you" She barely whispers, staring down at you. You can't help but laugh softly, scoffing at her words before you give her a gentle sigh.
"Oh it got my attention, Ellie. It got it so much, that I can't bare for you to have it anymore..." you mumble out softly before you turn away from her, unable to stare into her eyes for any longer.
"I don't know what happened between us that morning...but I want nothing more than to just..forget about it all" You let out meekly, feeling yourself reduce to that small ball of insecurities once again.
And Ellie finally softens when she sees it, because you never let your guard down this much.
She inhales deeply, taking a step towards you, trying to get closer to you. You don't step back, or flinch, you simply ignore her, carrying on to pack your things as if she wasn't there, standing above you.
"You hurt me too...you know" she mumbled out, her voice finally dropping that hostile tone that she had when she first walked in. You're quick to turn towards her, spinning around to set your eyes that were quickly growing redder by the second.
"And Im sorry!" you shout, your voice going the loudest it had yet, it makes Ellie flinch.
You sigh out tiredly before you bring your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "If I could go back and do it differently..I would..but too much has happened, Ellie...I don't..." you trail off, struggling to find the proper words before you sigh softly, finally speaking again.
"I don't see you the same way, anymore" you mumble out.
This makes Ellies heart seize up, because what do you mean by that? What are you trying to tell her?
You move to sit on your knees, you bare legs coming in contact with the cold, wooden floor as you begin packing more things in a different box. There's no more fighting, there isn't anymore arguing, or anger, it's just silent, the occasional sound of your clothes hitting each other when they hit you settle them in the box. You don't even bother to turn around and yell at Ellie, or even tell her to get out.
And maybe thats what's hurting her the most. You never yelled, you didn't cry or beg, you didn't do anything when she knew you heard her, saw her with those other girls. All of them were nothing to her, sorry attempts at trying to grab hold of your attention again, get you to show just a little bit of fucking anger, so that she knew you still felt something for her, so that she knew she still had you.
But it was clear to her with the way that you disregarded her after it all, as if she didn't even matter, that she didn't have you anymore.
Did she ever? Did she ever have a chance with you? Was she all in her head? Were you simply just a good friend? A decent roommate who promised to help her out when she needed help? Was all of it just....
Pretend?
She feels like she's running out of options, because she assumed that if anything, you two would fight and end up in a heated, passionate love making session where you two would admit what you had felt all along.
But Ellie was slowly coming to the conclusion that she was being fucking delusional.
Her decisions didn't let up thought, because soon, she's on her knees next to you, grabbing your wrists gently in her hands and pulling you to face her. She feels her heart break when you refuse, trying to pull away from her grasp, mumbling soft complaints of how you needed to finish packing.
When she finally tugs you a bit harder, forcing you to look at her, she feels the weight of her mistakes finally settle on her chest, because you're crying. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are stained, and it's all her fucking fault.
She bites back a whimper, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth as she feel her own throat burn with tears.
"Hey...look at me...come on...where's my pretty girl...come on.." She tries over and over again, voice breaking, making you whimper as you try tugging your arms from her grasp.
"Don't you see how fucked up this is, Ellie? We were just screaming at each other and now...now you're calling me your girl" you plead with her, the words bubbling past your lips as the mere sight of here forces more tears from your eyes, making it harder and harder to talk.
Ellie can't talk her way out of this one, not with you. She knows there isn't much she can do, or say, and she feels like she's all out of options, because you're right. All of this is so fucked up, and it makes her insides burn because she's hurt, and you're hurt, and it feels like there's nothing she can do to fix it.
She does the only thing she feels will work. She kisses you.
It's filled with everything. Passion, longing, happiness, sadness, anger, everything that had been pent up between the both of you is poured into the kiss, and it's enough to make you feel dizzy.
But you don't pull away, you melt into her, just like you always do. She feels it too, feels the way you let you defenses down, taking it as a chance to tug your wrists up and around her neck, her own arms resting on your hips as she pulls you closer, her lips working against yours.
"Im....fuck...im so sorry, baby....never meant to hurt you" She mumbles against you, her words coming out as a breathy sigh against your lips, making you moan softly against her. She pushes her tongue into your mouth, giving your waist a soft squeeze.
"M'sorry too..Ellie....shouldn't have left..." You whine against her, and she's quickly shaking her head, gently tugging you up to stand with her before she's pulling you too your bed.
"Just...lemme take care of you..alright" She hums against your lips before she gently pushes you back to lay on your bed, her own body crawling over yours, resting her weight on your body as she goes back to kissing you.
It's so slow, and sensual, and it feels like the entire world is quiet, like you're fading into her, and she's fading into you, and you both are becoming one. It feels so fucking right, and the hole that had been growing in your chest is finally filling up, the essence that is Ellie slowly acting as the medicine that you needed all along.
Ellie rolls over, gripping your hips and tugging you to straddle her waist as she lays back against your bed. Her green eyes eat you up, strong hands already running along your hips and thighs, giving you a squeeze before her hand creeps up your t shirt, pushing it up a bit before it slips under, grasping your boob and massaging it in her hands.
"Fuck...look at you...missed you so much, pretty girl....you can't even imagine.." She sighs softly under her breath, eager hands roaming your body hungrily, as if they've deprived of you for so long, missing the way your skin spilled out from under her hands, always so responsive for her.
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch her practically worshiping your body with her hands, a soft whine leaving your lips as you rest your hands on her hips, pushing up her t shirt a bit as your thumbs rub small circle into her pale hips.
Her hands rest on your hips, forcing you to grind down onto her lap, making you whine softly, the feeling her her sweats bunching up right at your core, your cotton pajama shorts leaving much too room to be exposed by her touch.
She sits up, grabbing the hem of your shirt before she tugs it off your body, groaning softly as her lips immediately latch onto your nipple, biting and sucking. You moan softly, arching your back a bit and forcing more of you to her mouth, hands wrapped around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck.
Ellie pushes you back, resting you to lay down before she tugs your pajama shorts and panties off in one go. You promptly spread your legs for her, letting her settle between them, the small gesture making her groan, her strong hands gripping your thighs, grinding against your bare pussy.
"Fuck...such a good girl for me..." she sighs softly against your lips.
You whine, reaching down and tugging at her own pants, fumbling with the waistband of her shorts that hung oh so fucking low.
"Off..wanna feel you.." You moan softly against her, resulting in a soft chuckle from her. She presses one last kiss to your lips before she nods.
"Whatever you want baby...fuck" she mumbles softly under her breath when she pulls back to start tugging her own clothes off, catching a glimpse of your soaking wet pussy and naked body in the dim light of your room.
She looks so fucking desperate, nearly tripping over her sweats as she tugs them off, tossing them somewhere else in your room. It's like she can't get the clothes off quick enough, immediately settling between your legs again once she's naked, groaning softly a the feeling of your pussy against her body.
Her eagerness makes you giggle, and Ellie feels like she's on cloud fucking nine when she hears it, so soft and gentle. She pouts softly, staring down at you while she's already moving to position her pussy over yours, tossing your leg over her shoulder.
"What are you laughing at...hm?" She questions softly, her hips slowly moving against yours as she lets out a soft moan, eyes never leaving yours.
You can barely get the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her slick pussy against yours, clits bumping together in a way that has you nearly salivating.
She chuckles above you, a soft groan following the noise as her lips graze along your calf.
"Thats what I thought...fuck....your pussy is too fuckin good, princess' She moans out softly, her hips moving slowly against yours.
You moan loudly, your hand coming to grip her thigh as you move your hips in tow with hers.
"F-fuck, Ellie....you...that feels so good" you babble out, your other hand gripping the sheets beneath you as she fucks her pussy down onto yours.
Ellie smirks softly as she watches you, watches the way you fall apart beneath her.
"Thats my fuckin girl....you're the only fucking one I need...fuck...." She groans, turning her head a bit to kiss your calf again before her teeth sink into you, biting and sucking your skin, making you moan loudly.
You feel her speed up, hips growing desperate as she chases both hers and your orgasm, making your head spin as your nails dig into her thigh, sure to leave marks in the morning.
"Im....god...Im close Ellie.....fuuuckkkk....dont stop" you gasp out, low, lust filled eyes staring up at her as she continues bullying your pussy with hers, both of your arousal squelching together, making the most explicit noise you've ever fucking heard.
"Come on baby...want you to cum for me...can you do that? Fuck...I feel it too....that's it, pretty girl.." Ellie is babbling too, her lust clouded braun barely uttering words that are comprehensible.
You see her eyes squeeze shut, her moans getting louder and more high pithed, sounding so fucking pretty above you.
You feel like you'll explode, your back arching as the familiar feeling settles in your core, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as you feel your orgasm grow closer.
"A-ah! Ellie!" You scream out as you come undone beneath her.
And she isn't far behind, leaning down and crashing her lips against yours, forcing you to swallow her moans as she cums hard against your pussy, the both of you breathing hard as her hips sputter, pussy sliding around sloppily against yours as she becomes so fucked out, that she loses her rhythm completely.
And just like before, she lays there, on top of you, trying to catch her breath, face tucked against your neck, hands keeping you close, as if you'll disappear in thin air at any given moment.
There's so much going through your head, trying to figure out what it is that happens from here, where you and here go, what steps to take after, all of which come up with blank answers whenever you try to figure out what to do.
You assume she will fall asleep on you as she did before, knock out immediately and leave you to lay there with your plaguing thoughts.
She doesn't, though. You hear a soft hum from her lips, her hands squeeze your waist gently, before she speaks against your neck.
"I love you...so much.." she sighs out, her voice breaking a bit as if shed break down at any given moment.
You aren't sure what you'll do from this point on, but you do know one thing.
You won't run away from Ellie, ever again.
2K notes · View notes
bi-writes · 2 months
Text
you get into big trouble, and you must pay the price. but bunnies should be terrified, and you are not.
mercenary!ghost x fem!reader (part 3/?)
notes about reader: she's curvy !!!! and she knows it.
cw: this is not a healthy relationship (you're both fucking insane), mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mean!ghost, toxic!ghost, possessive + protective!ghost, kissing through the mask, mentions/depictions of violence + gore, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than ghost, can be easily manhandled by him), ghost is bIG, mentions of ghost's canon trauma, mw3 spoilers, fem!receiving touching + a little oral (18+), unprotected piv
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his phone pings. he turns it over, narrowing his eyes at the text on the screen.
🐰: made some cookies. come over?
he runs his tongue over his teeth, clicking it lowly before leaning back in his chair. his ass hurts; he's been sitting here for hours, watching a dark window do nothing for hours.
💀: Working.
🐰: i have a surprise for you !!!
💀: Later.
for a moment, he thinks he should be nicer. give his puppy a bone. tell her he misses the taste of her pretty pussy, that he can still smell her on the mask he hasn't washed. and this is true, he knows it; he aches to go back to where she lives. he wants to see her again. put his dirty, gloved fingers into her mouth and watch her cry, soak her soft panties again, steal them, watch her cry harder when he finally gives her what she wants.
the most horrifying part is that he wants it. he wants to feel the warmth of her body. he wants to see her wide hips stutter, her pretty thighs open. he thinks about bending her over and kneeling down behind her, spreading the meat of her ass so he can watch her come undone against the velvet cushions of her couch.
you're so fucking pretty. and you're everywhere. when he grips the metal of his rifle, he thinks about how hard he was when he ate your cunt--fucking solid, balls so heavy and tight that he thinks he came for a full minute when he finally touched himself that night. when the sight of that rifle finds its target, he thinks about the way your pupils dilated when you came, the way your eyes rolled back into your head and the little sounds you made when he drank up the essence of you. when he swings his knife and plunges it into a soft neck, he thinks about your smile, the teeth you bared, the ones he wants to slide his tongue over when he kisses you again.
he had kissed you. kissed someone. the thought alone would normally make him vomit. to think of another person seeing his face, it bothered him, would usually make him feel sick--disgusted. his face wasn't meant for anyone to see, not even just half of it, and yet--he let you touch him.
and it didn't burn.
he remembers when he had taken a hand once for it. feeling someone's touch on his face, feeling scarred all over again by it, and taking flesh as their penance.
it was only fair.
there is something wrong with him. he should've killed you for it. your hand on his jaw, your lips on his, he should've killed you for touching him--and yet here he is, in another lonely room, staring at his target, thinking about how he can get your hands on him again. how he might coax you into kissing him just one more time.
he doesn't want to make it a habit. but he does want it to happen again. and it is enough that he knows he shouldn't see you again, but he will, because he's selfish. because he's hungry. because there is place inside of him, one that he thought was hollow and untreatable, that is just that much satiated whenever he is with you.
when he closes his eyes, he sees what haunts him. it isn't the memories of torture. he doesn't feel the wood of a coffin he once laid in. he doesn't feel the sting of pain when they carved layers into his face, he doesn't feel the holes they left along his chest when they rooted out pieces of him. he doesn't feel what he felt when they popped his fingernails off one by one.
no, he feels the ghost of someone's touch. he feels the rough callouses of skilled hands. he thinks of the bruised knuckles that used to scrape over the ridges of his uneven skin, and he thinks of the eyes that used to look at him as if he wasn't this mangled, forgotten thing.
he thinks of those eyes, and how blue they used to be. he thinks of what they looked like with that brightness in them, how they used to move, so fluid and easy. and he thinks of what they looked like with nothing in them. he thinks of them when they reflected nothing but the dull light over his head, and he thinks of the scream he let out when he was alone, when he still had his blood on his gloves.
ghost never begs. he doesn't beg, he never has, but he thinks he did that night. he thinks he begged, to who, to no one maybe, but he begged anyway, but it doesn't matter.
no one answered, and he knows there is a place inside of him so fucking hollow, that nothing will fill it again. a hole that only seems to be dug deeper and deeper with each thing he loses.
he never looked back when he left. he didn't say a word. he didn't even take his belongings, he just left. and the only thing he still carries with him from his past life is how good he is at killing and the extra dog tags that hang around his neck.
ghost isn't real. there is nothing about him that is redeemable, nothing about him that is good enough to love, and that is why he just doesn't care. and when he stopped caring, the nightmares went away. when he stopped wondering where they were, what they were seeing, if they would be disappointed in him, he no longer saw their faces in his dreams, watching them fade to black as the soft images turned into violent ones.
when he stopped being human, they left him, and he is so grateful for it. and that is why you were going to be a problem.
because he wants. he desires. he tastes, and he hungers, and you are sweet, and he wants to have you, and it isn't right. he knows this. he knows what it is he needs to do, but he won't do it--and there is a voice in his head that begs, from a far away place, for him to let you go.
but while he might not be human any longer, he is still a man, and men are weak.
as a man, he cannot close his eyes and forget your pretty face. he cannot stop thinking about your warm thighs, the softness of you, the unscarred skin that you wear. you wear your body as it is yours, and not like it holds you back, not like his does. your belly is full, and your heart is good, and you are warm. you aren't made of something else, you are real, and his blood runs so cold, he can't help but itch to feel you again.
there is something about you that makes that place inside of him feel like it isn't there, even for just a moment. and those moments remind him of someone else, of something else, something he once had that made him sick to think about having again.
the last time he had this, it killed him. the last time he found himself here, he didn't realize it had happened until it was too late--he was buried, deep, and there was no escaping a shallow grave this time because he thinks he loved the one that put him there. the last time he thought this way, he felt not himself, not enough, but it had been everything his life had been without, so he stayed, and he let it happen, and he didn't push him away, and now look at me--look at what I've done, look at what I've become--
men are weak. and men are lonely. and it was only a matter of time before ghost found himself there again, on his knees for something else. something soft and sweet and real, something that loves unconditionally and begs for attention and is never satiated until he looks at them and gives them what they need.
he doesn't know what he will become after you. he doesn't know what it will make of him. he knows you will go before him--he knows you will die before he does, because he isn't capable of dying, and even though he knows this as a fact, he wants to die again. but he won't try, because it won't work, even if he takes the blade strapped to his side and shoves it right through his heart.
he doesn't have one. he doesn't know what such a wound would even do. and he doesn't wish to see what color his blood will run if he does it, anyways.
you don't like the distance he keeps you at. it isn't fair. you do everything he asks--you go where he goes, you let him come and go whenever he wants, you spread your legs for him and let him have his fill, and you don't complain when he leaves even though your mouth waters thinking about getting your mouth on him and hearing him bask in his own pleasure for even a moment.
he gives and he takes, but he lets you do neither, and you want more. you know he isn't capable of more, you know he doesn't want more, but you want it, and he needs it. he needs you, despite what he says, despite how he acts, and you will give him what he needs.
you see it in his eyes. the things that aren't there, the things you think he once had but doesn't have anymore. sometimes he talks like you aren't there, and he mentions someone else.
another person. someone he used to know. someone he used to love, you think, but he isn't capable of love anymore, so you often wonder what they did to him to make him this way.
aloof. detached. so entirely fucked, he cannot make connections or hold the ones he has or let himself have what he needs. they have done something to him, and he wears the aftermath of it so clearly.
"he woulda liked you," he says sometimes.
"woulda loved the taste of y'r cunt," he murmurs once.
but they are gone. and you are not. and you know that there is something here. otherwise, he would never come back. he would not want to see you again. maybe he would have even killed you, but he hasn't, and he eats pussy like he loves you, so you decide you won't leave him alone. you won't let him go. this isn't fair, and you will get what it is you want--and give him what it is he needs.
you see him in the pub that you met in. he sits at the far corner of the bar, tucked in the dark against the wall, and he swirls a glass of bourbon in front of him. he wears a rain jacket over his dark hoodie, and you light up when you catch sight of him.
you wear something nice for him. a short skirt, a cotton shirt tucked into it, a cropped jacket over top, and your boots make you feel tall, but you know it won't matter--you'll never be taller or bigger than that large, hulking man you have your eyes fixated on.
but when he sees you, he doesn't react the way you expect. he doesn't sit up, doesn't get off his seat to come get you, he doesn't move at all. his eyes run over you, and then they move back down to his drink.
like he doesn't know what you taste like between your legs. like he doesn't know you at all.
your smile fades. you clutch your purse now in clammy hands, and you walk shakily to the bar and sit, swallowing hard as you try and hold in the shaky breath in your throat. your chest hurts a little; your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you shift on the bar stool, fidgety and uncertain.
you had been so happy to see him. you had been so excited to come here. you hadn't seen him in weeks--but the sparse texts he had sent you were enough to keep you hanging onto your phone whenever it made a sound, as if one of those notifications might be him, throwing you just enough attention to keep you on your toes, desperate.
your lip trembles a little as the bartender comes to take your order. you ask for a shot and a chaser, and you tell him to make it a double. you want to be drunk, and you want to be drunk quickly.
you tip the drink back, swallowing it down. it burns, holds a fire in your chest, and you chase it with a seltzer, swallowing down the contents of both until you slam the can back on the counter, hiccuping.
you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and when you realize ghost is still not looking at you, you're drunk enough to test his limits.
there's a group of boys down on the other side of the counter. they're playing darts, and they're drinking, and you slip off the barstool with a little step before making your way over cautiously. you pull your shirt down, show off the swell of your tits, and you ask them if they'll teach you to throw darts.
they practically cheer with delight. you hear one of them drool over your ass in that skirt, you hear another whine about looking down your shirt and at the peek of the lace bra you wear, and you shiver when you realize all you ever wanted was attention.
someone to tell you that you're pretty. that you make them hungry. but it isn't all you want, and they can't give you what you want.
they won't die for you. they won't live for you. and certainly, you know, they won't kill for you. but there's a man on the other side of the room that you want doing those things for you, that has the fucking balls to do those things for you, that possesses no good bone in his body that would do those things easily for you.
you see him in your dreams, breaking necks and popping kneecaps and slicing soft skin just to please you, and it makes you ache inside. you know what he does. he's never lied to you, but he doesn't always tell you the whole truth, but you fill in the blanks of the spaces he leaves behind, and you know what it is he does.
there's blood on his boots and money in his pocket, and you should be so afraid, but you never could be. not with the way he touches you. not with the way he talks to you. not with the way he puts his tongue inside of you and holds your thighs apart, and not with the way he grunts when he disappears into your bathroom to fuck himself to the image of you on your couch, half-naked as you wait for a fucking that never comes.
why won't he touch me? why won't he fuck me? why doesn't he rip the rest of my clothes off and have his way with me? he doesn't seem like the kind of man to ask for permission, but he eats me, and then he leaves me, and i can't take it anymore, please, please, please--
you're dizzy. the room spins, and the boys laugh, and your darts are hitting the wall now, clattering to the floor as they all boo and snicker at the way you're stumbling in your heels.
they're too close. you can smell the vodka and beer too much, and it's too warm because they're too close to you. someone's hand is on your thigh, another holds you upright with a grabby grip on your back, and there's someone else playing with your hair. they hum and they talk, and when they say they want to take you home, all you can do is hiccup and smile.
but as soon as you turn and leave, there's a large shadow waiting outside the door, leaning against the wall. you giggle knowingly, because you knew he would be here, and when the boys notice him, they try to take you in the other direction.
"if y'blokes knew wot was good for ya, y'd let 'er go and be on y'r way." he isn't in a good mood. he clicks his teeth as he comes off the wall, stepping under the streetlight. it makes the shadows of his hoodie darker, but his eyes are clearer now, bright under the mask as he breathes hard. he's angry, and he doesn't seem like his patience will linger tonight.
"oi, mate, relax," one of them laughs, and you giggle again when you see ghost tilt his head to the side. fuck, he's deadly, and you're wet. you squeeze your legs together looking at him, and you want him to put one big hand on your waist and tilt your head back--you want him to push his mask up and kiss you, all sloppy and soft like he did all those weeks ago. you want him to put his hands up your skirt and fuck you with his fingers right in the street, the same hands he squeezed the life out of someone with, the same hands he was going to kill these boys with.
ghost steps closer, and he goes for the nearest. brings a hand up, smacking one big hand against their cheek until their head hit the side of the building, and he crumpled to the floor in a pool of his own blood.
they scatter like bugs. stumbling drunk over their feet, tripping, and they disappear into the dark as ghost tilts his head to the other side now, looking at you.
you smile. giddy, hitting your toes together, and when you step to the side, you don't notice you've stepped in that man's blood.
"y'think this is fuckin' funny, eh? hangin' about with lot like that, y'think it's fuckin' funny?" he spits, and you put your hands behind your back, biting your lip.
"you...you ignored me," you hiccup. "why did you ignore me?"
"that wot this is about?" ghost snarls. "me not givin' you a proper look?"
you bite your lip harder, nearly drawing blood.
"i missed you," you whisper, your lip trembling slightly. "m-missed you so much..."
"fuck off with that," he mutters, but you step closer anyways. when he doesn't step back, you step forward again, until you're flush against his chest, tilting your head back to look up at him. you go languid when his arm falls, slipping up the back of your skirt just like you imagined. he squeezes the flesh of your ass before he leans down, and you whine when he presses the front of his mask against your lips. you kiss, your soft mouth kissing him through the fabric.
"is he dead?" you ask when he pulls away. ghost says nothing at first, just smooths his hand over the lace of your panties. he grunts when he slides his fingers between the seam, satisfied when he hears the squelch of your wet pussy as he pets you there. you squirm a little.
"dunno," ghost murmurs, and you get wetter you think, at how nonchalant he behaves as he touches you shamelessly where anyone might see. "fuck, bunny, y'r soakin' my fuckin' gloves."
"why don't you like me?" you whimper. you reach up and put both hands on his chest, and you dig your nails there, but you meet resistance. the muscle and fat there barely give way, and he hums when you drag your nails down, anchoring yourself to him. when you meet his eyes, they are dull, and you know he doesn't care. "i-i like you...i-i like you so much..." he huffs in annoyance, but you keep going, "you like someone else," you whisper. "there's someone else..."
someone else. as if there is some kind of competition, and maybe there is, but it isn't what you think. there is someone in his head, someone that screams for him to leave, someone that begs him--simon, please, yer goin' to hurt 'er, please, she's so pretty, please--but it isn't because he loves someone else, it's because he did love someone else, and he doesn't think there's room for more.
but he also cannot explain what swelled in his chest when he watched you with those boys. the searing heat of emotion that bubbled in his throat, and how the only relief he feels is the satisfaction that the boy at your feet bleeds because he put his hands on you, that is good, make them suffer, touching what fuckin' belongs to me.
there's a breaking point. it's the law of physics. something as rigid as ghost could only bend so far back before it reaches the elastic limit, and then it is deformed, and then it snaps, and then it is two pieces instead of one that cannot be put back together--and he feels it. he knows this is it. the fine line between what was and what is, this is it, it's too late--shut the fuck up, johnny, it's too late, i have her, she's mine, get out of my head, get out of my fucking head, i'm going to have her, have her, have her sweet fucking cunt--
you are bliss. you are the air that allows him to breathe. you are the threads in the fabric, the water in the soil, the heat that warms the house and breaks the soul and drives the machine.
you are in his bed, on your back, and when he slides your skirt off, there it is. the soft place between your pretty thighs, glistening and so wet, puckering and pulsing as you spread your knees for him and slip your shirt off.
he doesn't remember taking his mask off. he doesn't know where it went, but it is gone, and your lips are on his, and your tits are bouncing as he grinds his cock into your soft, squishy folds. the tip catches sometimes, and it makes you cry, and you whine when he breaks the kiss to lick your tears and taste the salt of your pleasure. the tears are heady and desperate, and he knows this flavor, and he wants more of it.
he commits this to memory. when he sits up and feeds you his cock, he memorizes the way you moan. the twitch of your pussy, the leaking of your wetness, the way you clench and tighten and grip so he cannot do anything but force himself deeper inside of you.
what is it that he loves? what is it that he loves so much that he cannot look you right in the eyes? whose body did he have underneath him all that time ago that steals him away so much he cannot fuck you the way you deserve? the way you need, the way he wants?
you reach up and grip his dog tags. they jangle against his chest as he grips your hips and fucks you, and you use them to anchor yourself, tugging on the metal necklace as you focus on the way he thrusts. powerful, smooth, with ease--he's so big, but he fills you so well, and you can't help but wonder if he's losing himself because it's so familiar. to be inside. to be gripped and squeezed and milked for all that you are, the brute of a man so misunderstood that fucks like a goddamn pornstar.
he's so good at this. when he finds the gooey spot in your cunt, he knows how to get you there. hitting it just enough to bring you to the edge, and then slowing down to savor the wet mess your cunt has become, and then doing it again. he listens to the cries you make, the crescendo of moans that you sob out that come back down when he goes softer. he thinks about this, and he makes music out of you. the pretty bunny, so fucking dumb inside, but the thing he cannot be without.
when he fucks you, he sees in blue, and he knows this isn't a coincidence. the blue in your eyes, it doens't lie--he knows what this feeling is, and he prays to no one that he can fuck this feeling right out of himself.
you come so messy. you soak his thighs, creaming on his cock as you beg him to fill you, and he cages you between his arms as he fucks harder, faster, losing momentum as he nears the same glorious high. he's been so good, but this he cannot help--not the way this feels, so familiar, so easy, so freeing.
there are no thoughts when he is inside of you, and this is bliss.
he kisses you when he comes. cups both puffy cheeks of yours as he spurts hot cum inside of you, sliding his big hands down to grip your thighs as he nestles his hips against yours. you reach down with two hands and squeeze his lower back, keeping him inside. this feeling, the feeling of being so full and warm and enjoyed, it isn't natural to you, and it isn't one you feel often, and you chase after it. you lick into his mouth and whine, and he hushes you.
"easy, rabbit," he pants, licking over your jaw, and you close your eyes. if he is predator and you are prey, then so be it. you want him to have his fill--you want him to trap you, steal you away, tuck you into this den he keeps and never let you leave.
you don't mind the blood on his boots, stained on his clothes, under his fingernails. in fact, you think about it often. you think about taking a rag and cleaning the leather of his shoes. you think about teaching him the cold water and peroxide trick to getting the blood out of fabric. you think about taking the gloves off, letting his fingers wander into the warmth of your mouth so you can suck his skin clean, all while your eyes never left his.
you think about the thing that you are. the bunny you are, the prey you've manifested yourself into, and you think about the thing that he is. you think about the dark, dense places that must exist inside of his head, and you think about how you can't see them in his eyes.
you think about being the bunny in a cage and how he holds the key. and you wonder if you would even leave if he ever let you go.
ghost loves someone else. you don't know who they are or where they've gone, but he loves someone else. but that's okay. that's temporary. that's just for now. they didn't love him enough to stay.
they didn't love him enough not to die. you don't intend to die. you're going to carve him up, right along the scars that he wears, and you're going to slip inside of him and live there forever, nestled between the organs and the black of his blood and the heart you know he doesn't have.
ghost is a thing. but he's still a man.
and men are fucking weak.
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hecateslore · 1 month
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💋☆
baddie!reader and biker!simon.. they're kind of toxic so if you're not into people bickering and breaking up and then getting back together this may not be for you.
"So you're not going to talk to me?" Simon's voice rung through the speaker of your phone. "I'm getting my nails done," You popped your gum, phone resting between your shoulder and ear.
"And plus, You said I wasn't what you wanted anymore." You nodded at the woman doing your nails, pointing to the bright red shade. "Just because I said it, doesn't mean I meant it." Simon said. "You said it anyways, so it doesn't matter." You huffed, "Look you're gonna have to hang up, Im kind of busy."
"Busy enough to keep avoiding me?" Simon smirked, his arrogance bleeding through the speakers making you want to throw your phone. You sighed, "I'll call you later." You mumbled into your screen, "I'll be up."
-
"I don't like it when you come over this late," You let him in. "Leaving isn't problem." Simon grumbled and you rolled your eyes. "I'll get you some covers." You walked to your storage closet pulling out a fitted sheet and some throw blankets. You placed the sheets on the couch, "Are you hungry?" You asked, "I'm fine." He yawned, "Why can't you go home?" You crossed your arms, "It's long." He rubbed his hand over his face. You only nodded, "I'll be in my room, holler if you need anything."
"Hey," Simon said from the crack of your door, his voice hoarse. "What?" You look up from your phone screen, hiding the videos of people building terrariums. "Can't sleep." He makes himself comfortable on your bed, fluffing your pillows and wrapping his arm around your waist. "I'm tired," He complained, voice muffled. "How long are you staying?" You asked, pushing his head away from your chest. "I don't know, until it's clear to go back to my flat."
"So when will that be?" You asked annoyed with his uncertainty. "Well aren't you welcoming." He chuckled sarcastically, "Well when I'm told I'm not a factor in your life, i'm a little upset." You push his forehead, making him jerk away from you. "Go back to the couch." Simon gets up begrudgingly stealing one of your pillows.
-
"Don't touch these," Simon slipped the duffle bag under your bed. "Why?" You slide your skirt on, flattening the back. "Because don't. Price's coming over later to get it, I'll give you some money go out and buy stuff." Simon dismissed your confusion, placing a stack in your hands, You didn't complain taking the money gladly.
"Can I get a little bit more?" You pinched air, Simon sighed and reached for his clothes bag and pulled another wad of cash out, "Buy something useful." He took the rubber band off giving it to you, "I will." You peck his lips, Leaving some of your lipgloss on his.
-
"You like these?" You hold the two colorful thongs in front of his face, "They're cute." He said not looking up from his phone screen. "do you know what they are?" You cocked a brow, "Blouses." he mumbled, "It's underwear." You rolled your eyes, "And I bought them with you in mind." tossing them at him. You plopped next to him on the couch.
"You're annoying." You mumbled, pushing his thigh, "Stop," he muttered still distracted by his phone, "So what's happening," You ask, fixing his chain. "Stuff."
"Stuff," You mocked, "Did you have drugs in the duffel bag?" You chuckled attempting to coax the answers out-mostly to piss him off,
"Guns."
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yellowocaballero · 1 year
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Miguel is Fine, Actually (Being Spider-Man's Just Toxic As Hell)
Before I watched ATSV I said that I would defend my man Miguel O'Hara's actions no matter what, because he's always valid and I support women's wrongs. I was joking, and I did not actually expect to start defending him on Tumblr.edu. But I'm seeing a lot of commentary that's super reductive, so I do want to bring up another perspective on his character.
Miguel wasn't acting against the spirit of Spider-Man, or what being Spider-Man means. Miguel isn't meant to represent the antithesis of Spider-Man. Miles is the antithesis of Spider-Man. Miguel represents Spider-Man taken to its extreme.
Think about Miguel's actions from his perspective. If you were a hero who genuinely, legitimately, 100%, no doubt about it, believed that somebody is going to make a selfish decision that will destroy an entire universe and put the entire multiverse at severe risk - if you had an over-burdened sense of responsibility and believed in doing the right thing no matter what - you would also chase down the kid and put him in baby jail to try and prevent it. He believed that he was saving the multiverse, and that Miles was putting it in danger for selfish reasons. Which is completely unforgivable to him, because selfishness is what he hates the most. And then he goes completely out of pocket and starts beefing with a 15yo lmfaooo he's such a dick.
But why did Miguel believe that? Why did he believe that Miles choosing himself and his own happiness over the well-being of others was the worst possible thing? Why did he believe that tragedy was inevitable in their lives, and that without tragedy Spider-Man can't exist?
Because he's Spider-Man.
Peter Parker was once a fifteen year old who chose his own happiness over protecting others. It was the greatest regret of his life and he never forgave himself. Peter's ethos means that he will put himself last every time, and that he will sacrifice anything and everything in his life - his relationships, his health, his future - to protecting and helping others. Peter dropped out of college because it interfered with Spider-Man. He destroyed his own future for Spider-Man. He ruins friendships and romantic relationships because Spider-Man was more important. If Peter ever tries to protect himself and his own happiness, then he's a bad person.
That is intrinsic to Peter. Peter would not be Peter without it. A story that is not defined by Peter's unhappiness is not a Spider-Man story. If Peter doesn't make himself miserable, then he's just not Peter.
That is a Spider-Man story: that not only is tragedy inevitable, that if you don't allow yourself to be defined by your tragedy then you're a bad person. If you don't suffer, then you're a bad person. If you ever put anything above Spider-Man, then you're killing Uncle Ben all over again. Miguel isn't the only one that believes this - as we saw, every Spider-Man buys into what he's saying. There's no Spider-Man without these beliefs.
Miguel attempted to find his own happiness, and he was punished in the most extreme way. He got Uncle Ben'd x10000. He tried to be happy, and it literally destroyed his entire universe. It's the Spider-narrative taken to the extreme. Of course Miguel believes all of this. Of course he believes this so firmly. He's Spider-Man. That's his story. And the one time Miguel tried to fight against that story, he was punished. And like any Spider-Man, he'll slavishly obey that narrative no matter the evil it creates and perpetuates. Because if he doesn't, the narrative will punish him. The narrative will always punish him. It's a Spider-Man story.
I don't think the universal constant between Spider-Mans, the thing that makes them Spider-Man, is tragedy. I think it's the fact that they never forgive themselves. And Miguel is what that viewpoint creates. He doesn't believe this things because he's an awful, mean person. He believes them because he's a hero. He's a good person who hates himself.
Across the Spider-verse isn't really a Spider-Man story. It's a story about Spider-Man stories. Miguel's right: if this was a Spider-Man story, then Miles acting selfishly really would destroy the universe. But Miles' story isn't interested in punishing him. It pushes back against Peter's narrative that unhappiness is inevitable and that you have to suffer to be a good person. It says that sometimes we do the right thing from love and not fear, and that Peter's way of thinking is ultimately super toxic and unhappy. ITSV was about Miles deciding that he didn't need to be Peter Parker, that all he needed to be was Miles, and ATSV is about how being Peter Parker isn't such a good thing. Miguel shows that. Whatever toxic and unhealthy beliefs he holds - they're the exact same beliefs that any Spider-Man holds. He's a dick, but I don't think he's any more awful a person than Peter is.
TL;DR: Miguel isn't a bad person, he just has Spider-Man brainrot.
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luveline · 5 months
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hi jade i’m going through a breakup right now and my ex was really toxic so i was wondering if you could write something with Steve, where reader is dating him after and thinks that everytime he does something nice for her she has to repay him with sex. like even after a date or when he buys her something. that’s literally how my ex made me feel
if not it’s totally cool and thank you💕
hi my love, I'm really sorry that that was happening to you, it isn't okay! you're much more than your intimacy with someone and you deserve to be given good things without expectations. I hope this is what you wanted to read <3
tw past implied coerced sex /sexual assault
“Up you go.” 
You shriek, clawing at the hands on your hips as Steve lifts you up a step. “Don't!” you laugh, failing to get out of his grips. 
“M'just helping you, babe, alright? Don't be so ungrateful.” 
He's joking, but the air feels like it's been knocked our of you. Steve continues to heave you up the steps to the house, sandwiching you between his front and the door as he unlocks it. 
“Come on, beautiful,” he says, practically dragging you inside, “what happened? Your legs stopped working.” 
It goes without saying that Steve is really nice. Eddie told you he's always like this when he's in love, but you're reluctant to call it love just yet. Dating is difficult for you sometimes —you overthink when you should be kissing, and flinch sometimes when he's kind. But you're having a really, really nice time with Steve and you want to keep trying to be with him. 
He knows you've gone somewhere else, his hand coming up around your chest to rest on yout sternum. “Hey, you okay?” 
“I'm fine.” 
“Yeah?” He walks you to the living room. “It was a good day, right?” he asks into your cheek, propping a soft kiss there. “God, you make me so happy.” 
Your face and neck flush with heat. Steve gives you a squeeze of a hug and encourages you to sit on the couch, where he immediately kneels at your feet. What he's saying is lovely, but when he starts to untie your shoe laces, you realise it had been a prompt. To be grateful, to show him it was a good day. He slides your shoes off with a grin, and your hands go to your button. You unzip your jeans, and Steve's smile stutters. 
“Do you want to?” you ask, paused. 
“Want to what?” 
“Take them off for me?” 
“Are they hurting you?” 
You realise different things at the same time. Steve your intentions, and you his lack thereof. “Shit, I'm sorry,” you say, as he says, “Oh, oh, um?” 
“I thought you wanted–” 
“You're perfect, and I want to if you want to, but I wasn't trying to come on to you,” he says, holding your ankle. “I'm sorry, I'm embarrassing you. Don't be embarrassed, please, I'm such an idiot–” He puts his face against your knees.
You pull your shirt down over pants to hide their open state. “You… we had such a nice day. Don't you want…” You cross your arms over your stomach. “I wanted to. I mean, you should get something back.” 
“I should get what back? Why would you think that?” he asks. Steve gets quiet when things are serious. He has a mixture of shock and hurt in his eyes looking up at you, but his hands stay gentle as they climb your legs.
You can't admit it. The weight of it stays on your tongue. 
Steve thinks about it, and maybe he sees it in your face, but eventually he says, “With him?” 
You look away. 
Steve climbs onto the couch beside you with a quiet huff. “When I said we had a good day, that's all I meant. That's…” He takes one of your hands, pulling it toward him, his gaze insistent on your face until you meet his eyes. “I really, really like you. Like–” He puts your hand on his chest and holds it there. “You don't have to do anything for it.” His lips pout gently. “Am I saying the wrong thing?” 
“No.” 
He leans in to kiss your cheek. “Good,” he says, and kisses it again. 
You smile, tilting your head to your shoulder, tickled at his breath as it fans out by your ear. 
“Baby,” he murmurs, “are you okay?” 
You nod, worried about how you might sound if you speak. 
“You never have to do that.” 
“I didn't mean to make it seem like you thought that I did,” you mumble. 
“I know. It's confusing, right? Being with someone new after a long time with someone else. But I want to be with you, and I'm sorry that you– that he made you feel that way, that he could treat you like that. I'm sorry.” 
“It's okay, Steve. I'm sorry too.” 
“Well don't be.” He works his arms around you in a hug, a careful hand behind your neck. “I don't want you to be sorry. You didn't do a thing wrong.” 
He sounds angry for a split second, and you know undeniably that he isn't angry with you. You hug him back with much more gusto, so tight he actually groans. He doesn't make you stop, though. Just hugs you closer in response.  
“You want me to get you some sweatpants or something?” he asks. 
You nod into his neck, slinking down further into his embrace. Neither of you make any efforts to actually pull away. 
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discopaddock · 5 months
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LIAR - FELIX CATTON
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PAIRING: felix catton x fem!reader
GENRE: angst, pure angst
WORDS: 1,3k
WARNINGS: death (only mentioned), heartbroken reader, abuse, alcoholism, lies, felix is stupid, toxic relationship, ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO SORRY FOR ABY MISTAKES.
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Felix never understood why she never said anything about her father. He asked about him many times, but she always found a way to change a topic or acted like she didn't hear his question.
“I just don't wanna talk about it, Felix” she said as they were driving to her family house.
The girl saw that something was odd with her best friend, since he came back with Oliver from Liverpool the previous day.
“Why?” he pushed, but didn't answer for a longer moment.
“Ask my mum about it” she said finally, when he parked at the driveway. The girl didn't wait for him and left the car to open the door and step in. Felix locked the car and ran after her to see her hugging a woman, whom she looked alike.
“Hello” he said awkwardly standing in front of them.
“Ah, mama! This is Felix, been telling you about him” she announced and grabbed him by hand, so he stepped close to them.
“Nice to meet you, young man, I've heard plenty of stories about you” the woman said, smiling at him.
“Nice to meet you too” he replied and grabbed her for a hug.
“Go to the living room, kids, I'll make the tea” her mother announced and the girl took Felix to the room.
“Is that you?” he asked, pointing at the photo on the shelf, next to the books.
“Oh, yeah, it's little her” the woman said, as she entered the room. “This was taken at her first music competition” she added, making her daughter red. “She won it, I'm still so proud of her.”
“You didn't tell me you were taking part in competitions?” Felix turned around to his friend.
“You never asked,” she answered and stood up from the couch. “Then we were karting with girls” she said, while showing the photo of her at the karting track next to a kart.
“Oh, and this one is from the Grand Prix two years ago, when you were a marshall,” her mother cooed, pointing at another photo.
“I told you about that,” the girl reminded Felix, making him laugh. Yes, she had told him about it one time. “Come on, I'll show you around” she said and grabbed him by hand and took him upstairs.
“Your room?” he asked, watching her open the door.
“Yeah, welcome to my kingdom” she said and let him in.
“Yeah, it's definitely your room,” Felix laughed. He could see that she was the owner of it. The books that she's been telling him about, the film posters she told him she had watched, the Formula 1 related things - everything that was in that room was her.
“What happened yesterday?” the girl asked, when they were lying on her bed for a while. The bed was small, 90x200 centimeters and his legs were sticking out of it. He found this funny and was laughing until she asked.
“He's a, um” he started, not sure if he wanted her to know that. But she never lied to him, right? She wouldn't do that like Oliver did. She would never. “He lied to me. To all of us” he said finally.
The girl looked at Felix, not understanding what he meant. She saw how they were treating each other the previous day, but she didn't ask since he came to her room and started kissing her, banning her and himself from talking till breakfast.
“What has he done?” she asked and raised her head. She was worried about him. He was her best friend, her other half and she was really jealous of Oliver for the whole time, which Farleigh found hilarious and was making jokes about it to Felix when she wasn't around. And Farleigh liked her more, if he had to choose between her and Oliver who was better for his cousin, he would choose her without hesitation. She was normal in his opinion, not a liar like Oliver.
The girl loved Felix. She gave him her whole heart. But he didn't see it. His heart didn't belong to her, but her heart belonged to him. And it hurt her a lot.
She tried to leave him, for her own good, but she couldn't. He was so magnetic, so majestic that she just couldn't leave him.
Farleigh and her own friends saw how she felt and how Felix was blind about it. Farleigh tried, he really tried to do something but his cousin was as if he didn't have eyes and couldn't see anything about her.
Farleigh told her he felt sorry for her and that she should really leave him for her own good and that he knew it was hard, but she still couldn't. And Farleigh saw it.
Gosh, she spent the whole vacation with him and Venetia because Felix was always with Oliver and he seemed like she wasn't there until yesterday. She was his second choice and she knew it.
So she decided that it would be her last try to cut contact with him. For her own good.
“Felix, I'm not coming back to Saltburn with you” she announced, when he stopped talking about that liar.
He was shocked. Why would she say that? What has gone wrong?
“What? No, no, no, you're coming back” he replied, feeling betrayed.
“Mama said that the great-grandma is feeling worse and worse, Felix, I can't be not around her” she said the half of the truth. This was one of the two reasons she wanted to stay at home. “I can't do that to her,” she mumbled, tears forming in her eyes.
He would understand, right?
“I can drive you at any time here, I promise, just come back with me” he assured her and grabbed her face in his hands gently. “You can just leave me,” he said, looking into her eyes.
“Felix, you don't understand” she shook her head, as he made everything about himself. “I can't leave her now, I don't know how much time she has left,” she added. “You should stay for tonight and go back home tomorrow, it's getting dark” she said and he only agreed.
He didn't want to leave her, especially now.
During the night, Felix was walking through the house and looking for the water. He stood in the kitchen and saw his friend’s mother looking for something in the cabinet.
“Good evening” he mumbled and she answered. He got the water and stood for a moment. He had a battle inside if he should ask about that. And his curiosity won, so he asked: “I'm sorry for being rude, but anytime I asked your daughter about the father she never answered and recently she told me to ask you about him, so could you tell me something?”
“Oh, he was, let's say, not a good person” the woman started and sat on the chair. “I completely understand why she doesn't want to talk about him. She has some kind of trauma and she used to go to therapy, when she was younger” at these words he furrowed his brow. “He was an alcoholic and violent towards us, so you know” she stopped talking, not knowing what to add more. “Oh, and when he died it really hit her, even though she didn't talk with him for years.”
“I'm so sorry you had to go through this,” he said and wanted to hug the woman. He would never have thought that something like this happened to his best friend.
“It's okay now, young man, don't worry” she said and hugged him. “She's doing great,” she assured him.
He felt so stupid. He was such a dick for her sometimes.
Now he wanted only to make it up to her.
So when he was leaving he promised the girl that he was going to do everything for her, because she deserved it.
But he broke the promise. He never had done that, because he died and left her alone, without making anything up to her.
He was such a liar.
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genericnam · 8 months
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Why, out of GF, Amphibia, and TOH, only Luz didn't have to leave her new world behind:
I've seen people complain about Amphibia and to a lesser extent, Gravity Falls, for having their series end with a goodbye; the main characters having to leave their found families and this world they've grown to love and return to regular life. But the thing is, the three shows all have MASSIVELY different morals, that each fit in with how the goodbyes (or lack thereof) work into the finales.
Gravity Falls has a large theme of temporary goodbyes and reconciling. Stan and Ford being the primary example. But there are others: Soos and Melony, Wendy and Robbie, even Dipper and Mabel to an extent. The show builds upon this with Gravity Falls being a VACATION, they aren't trapped there, they could theoretically go home at any time. Episodes such as Summerween and Dipper and Mabel Vs. The Future also build on the tone, telling that it's okay to both grow up and move on, but you don't have to leave behind what you once loved in doing so.
The final conflicts (Wierdmaggedon) are caused because of characters not being able to let go. Stan couldn't let go of Ford, Mabel couldn't let go of Gravity Falls, Gideon couldn't let go of Mabel.
Gravity Falls teaches the viewer that even if you love something, you have to let it go, and eventually it will return. In the words of Bill Cipher: "We'l meet again. Don't know where, don't know when. I just knew we'll meet again, some sunny day."
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Amphibia has a similar theme of Gravity Falls, but it takes it further. Amphibia tells you that if you don't let go, sometimes things will only get worse. The primary example for this is the show's catalyst event: Marcy getting Anne to steal the Music Box. Marcy chose to go to Amphibia, rather than move away, and she dragged her friends into it with her. Instead of having a long distance friendship with Sasha and Anne, she took them to an alternate dimension in order to spend eternity on a massive adventure, and it got her killed. Marcy and Anne died and Sasha tried to kill herself.
And that's only Marcy. Sasha was a control freak that bordered on yandere at the height of her villain arc. Sasha couldn't accept that Anne was beginning to move on from the toxic friendship that the Calamity Trio had locked themselves into.
The trio were horrible to eachother, pre-character arcs, and they needed to focus on self improvement before they could even hope to be good friends. In the time between 'All In' and the epilog, the Calamity Trio would not have actually been able to be good for eachtoher. They say they forgive eachother, but that was forgiveness given during a WAR. Post show, the real feelings would start to bubble up. Anne's resentment for the betrayals, Marcy’s abandonment issues, Sasha's definite self hatred. The trio HAD to split up to have any semblance of a friendship.
Amphibia tells its audience that not all good things can last, and if you obsess and force it to stay, it can destroy you.
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The Owl House has a completely opposite moral. It tells you to find your people, and fight for them.
Luz lived in the Human Realm, but it was never her home. Her home was with Camila and Manny, but when Manny died, Camila and Luz's relationship began to falter. That world wasn't her home. When Luz found the Boiling Isles, she was always supposed to be able to leave. This wasn't a summer trip she didn't want at first, or a one way portal. The Boiling Isles was HER choice.
Luz picked Bonesburrow. Luz picked Hexside. Luz picked The Owl House. Her home was always meant to be The Boiling Isles. She only started trying to find a way back to Earth because the choice was taken from her. Luz no longer had the choice to go back to the Human Realm. In fact, the only time Luz chose Humans over Isles was when she was PUNISHING herself for helping Belos.
Luz got to stay in the Boiling Isles because TOH tells its audience that where you start isn't where you should always stay. Find your place and find your people. And when you do, hold it dear and never let go. "Us weirdos have to stick together."
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countessklair · 1 year
Text
you know what, no, i'm not done talking about this. jamie isn't 'dealing with the fact hes not number one anymore/hes not the star'. he literally already dealt with that in SEASON TWO!!!! sure he was still his arrogant prick self but it was in a fun, teasing way meant to make the team and the audience laugh, that was the whole point of The Signal, so Jamie would know he could turn up being a prick!! because he already KNEW he wasn't the star on the team, Roy's whole problem with Jamie when he became a coach was that JAMIE WAS TOO MUCH OF A TEAM PLAYER.
i swear i'm so sick of seeing people act like jamie is just throwing a fit over nothing, he's not worried from a selfish concern (although he has every right to be pissed about Zava stealing his goal, i saw someone else say that Roy would have headbutted the FUCK out of someone for that and they're right and they should say it), but the point is that jamie's biggest concern is that the team, HIS team, the goofy touchy feely himbo team that's anti-toxic masculinity THAT TEAM is regressing. they're not listening to Ted or Beard or Roy, they're just getting on the field and giving Zava the ball and that's not what team sports are about. especially not with a self-centered borderline narcissist like Zava.
also jamie's looking at this from the other side now. he used to be a bully/asshole star player. he was sent back to man city, did some soul searching and growing as a person and as a player and PROVED himself to have changed for the better. he didn't just apologize and go back to acting like a dick, no, he woke up and realized it wasn't ok for him to act like that. so now he's fucking BAFFLED why it's ok for Zava to act like this. Zava isn't an aggressive bully the way Jamie was, but Zava's tell is in his body language. he shakes off Dani and the teams congratulations, stepping infront of and above all of the rest of the team to take all of the crowds cheering for himself and to block the view of the team, he steps in front of ted to block the teams view of their fucking coach, because to Zava, *he* is the only thing that matters. to zava, he is nothing short of the sun and/or god, and jamie is the only one wearing sunglasses and not being blinded by it, and is the only one looking around like 'wtf why is everyone drinking this dickheads kool-aid please get a grip'
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thesoftboiledegg · 6 months
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"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.
To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.
It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.
Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.
I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.
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However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"
I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.
Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.
Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.
I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.
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I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.
On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:
C-137 killed him.
Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.
C-137's keeping him alive for later use.
Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.
And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.
Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?
In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.
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What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.
Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.
Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?
But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.
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totheblood · 1 year
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Helloo :D
Can you do hcs of what it would be like to be friends w benefits with ellie 🫣
a/n: i been waiting on this one ngl... fwb is like the best and worst trope to me... IM SORRY IM SO SICK IN THE HEAD I LOVE U TOXIC ELLIE... also this is modern!ellie.. if this isn't what u meant then im so sorry and i will rewrite it.. not smut but smutty? AI AUDIOS AT THE END
p,s. i lost this when i finished it cause tumblr is the worst and i had to rewrite it so this is a testament of how much i love you guys and i am so sorry if u hate it
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fwb!ellie headcanons
it kind of just happened one night after your friends abandoned you at a party and ellie offered to walk you home
you were always close friends with ellie but had gone to the party with a different friend group
...your straight friend group
and you were touch-starved
and ellie was TOUCH-STARVED
so when your tipsy ass asked ellie if she wanted to come inside with you she couldn't say yes fast enough
if she was being honest she was tipsy too
and high
and the alcohol coursing through both of your systems just amplified every touch
it would start gentle with soft kisses
but quickly pick up pace as you moan into her mouth
she wouldn't even make it to your bedroom, pushing you up against the wall and kneeing you
your moans only cause her to want to feel you, her asking for permission before ever touching you
her hands eagerly undo your belt before snapping the waistband of your panties with her fingers
she dips her fingers into your underwear, quickly rubbing circles into your clit
"shit... i'm barely touching you and you're already soaking wet."
"fuck, ellie."
"fuck, you feel so good... this all for me?"
but promptly after fucking you ellie feels sick to her stomach
it's like the reality that she has now fucked her very close friend, who she has always thought was pretty, hits her all at once
so she's quickly throwing her t-shirt on and frantically looking around your place for her flannel
"you're leaving?"
you break her out of her trance and as she looks at your swollen lips and worried eyes her brain is telling her: run, run, run
if it wasn't clear before ellie has no idea how to deal with her feelings
like at all
all she really knows how to feel is guilt & horniness
"yeah well, this wasn't anything serious... we're just friends, right?"
"right, yeah, i know that. it's just really late and cold. you can take the couch.
"right... thanks."
yes, ellie is disappointed that you weren't disappointed and yes, that's toxic
but you were disappointed and there is no way in hell you would be caught dead admitting that
ellie is gone by the morning
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it continues every night for about a month straight
one of you is either calling or texting and ending up in the other's bed night after night
ellie will occasionally spend the night (on your couch) and wake you up for your morning classes
or wake up early and buy you breakfast
she tells herself that since she's not cooking the breakfast it doesn't make it coupley
sometimes you two will go out for dinner beforehand... it's not a date it's what ellie likes to call a 'pre-workout snack'
you two will study together and celebrate your grades on tests by trying new things out with each other
"you got an A-? so i'm getting fucking lucky tonight… hell yea"
soon enough she's leaving every party with you
and waiting by the phone for you to call
and thinking about what you are doing
or what you are wearing
and it's all really nice
until it begins to overwhelm her and suddenly she feels like she can't breathe
she didn't like how everyone began to call you a "couple" or how much it bothered her when you would talk about people you were attracted to
or how she wanted to punch their faces in
so she begins to avoid all your texts and calls and avoids going to every party she's invited to
she doesn't even check your social media anymore
it all comes to a head when she's walking on campus and spots you coming from the opposite direction causing her to immediately turn around
"hey, ellie! what the fuck?"
she turns around, an awkward look on her face and all she manages to say is: "what's up?"
"what's up? what's up is that you've been avoiding me. all my texts and calls. what gives?"
"i'm just over it. it got too... close.. for me. you're not my girlfriend so stop acting like you are!"
the minute it leaves her mouth and she watches your face shift from anger to sadness she feels sick to her stomach
"wait, i didn't mean it l-"
"fuck you, ellie."
she goes home and has to stop herself from throwing up
she has no one to talk to about this because she knows she's being an asshole
to make matters worse all she really wants to do is talk to you about it
and she can't
so she just wallows in her apartment and avoids you as much as she can
until she can't
her heart nearly stops when she receives a call from you in the middle of the night and you're crying on the other end asking her to pick you up
"ellie, i'm so so sorry... i wouldn't do this to you if i didn't have a choice but they all left me and i didn't know who else to call and... i need you."
"sh, it's okay... hold on, baby. i will be right there. everything will be okay."
she blows through a couple of stop signs on the way to get you and her heart breaks at the sight of your tear-stained face
"hey, are you o-"
"please just drive, ellie."
ellie takes you back to your place and you fully expect her to leave but she helps you upstairs, takes off your makeup, and tucks you in
you fully expected her to leave but when you wake up she's there in your kitchen
and she made you breakfast
"ellie, what are you d-"
"hey, you're up. do you think you could sit down, have some eggs, and just listen to what i have to say? can you do that?"
"um, sure?"
she takes a deep breath before starting and you make note of how she avoids eye contact with you
"i'm not good at this… or i thought i wasn't good at it and it scared the shit out of me. my whole world became you and i was looking forward to seeing you, and talking to you, and touching you, and i got so scared that it could all get taken away at any moment. so scared that i just sabotaged the one good thing in my life. i'm so sorry, is there anyway you could forgive me?"
"of course i can, you freak"
ai audios:
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So I've been seeing a lot of will solace hate, and I'm here to defend my son.
First of all, he's not a toxic person at all he's a human who can mess up at times and be unintentionally rude, like in that one scene boo where he says
‘Oh, please.’ Will sounded unusually angry. ‘Nobody at Camp Half-Blood ever pushed you away. You have friends – or at least people who would like to be your friend. You pushed yourself away. If you’d get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once –
^ that is rude but he didn't have bad intentions because according to him nico wasn't scary and the people that he hung out with - Lou Ellen and Cecil- didn't think that nico was scary either as they were both friendly towards him when they met him at the Roman camping area outside chb so while his delivery wasn't good he meant no harm and he also helped nico realize that not everyone hates him and then there are a few jokes that he made that people consider toxic or offensive but nico was never offended or sad about these jokes he only rolled his eyes and acted exasperated so he knew will meant no harm .
Will is canonically described as a laid-back and calm person, but he is also stubborn when it comes to certain things like medical related things which is understandable since he can feel everything physically wrong with a person by just touching them and is persistent that they don't die and Take care of themselves which is understandable since he saw majority of his siblings die and doesn't want more ppl to die .
Will is actually quite a complex character he's calm and laid back but he's stubborn and strict when he needs to be he's supportive and loving to nico but since he's a kid he struggles with being understanding sometimes hence why he asks persephone for advice on how to be there for nico properly showing that he's mature enough to ask for help . He's also someone represses his emotions because he thinks that as head counselor, he has to be a perfect example, and he told this apollo in the 1st toa book. He's also pretty insecure about his abilities, as shown in boo
Evidence:
You did,’ confirmed Nico. ‘But it was the way you did it. You made it clear that you wanted me around. You said you wanted me to come to the infirmary and help, because … because you could use a “friendly face”.’
‘It was true. And you did help.’
‘You brought me closer instead of rejecting me,’ Nico said, his voice cracking. ‘I’d never been called a friendly face. Ever. You made me rethink everything – my place in camp, my crush on Percy, my future. It took you scolding me like you were the camp director to make me realize that I was … wanted.
___
But with Nico … It’s hard, Persephone. I want the best for him, and he seems to disappear into his darkness, like he’s hiding in a place where he doesn’t want my light.’
‘Then why not offer him your darkness
_____
Nico sighed in exasperation. He hated working with other people. They were always cramping his style, making him uncomfortable. And Will Solace … Nico revised his impression of the son of Apollo. He’d always thought of Will as easygoing and laid back. Apparently, he could also be stubborn and aggravating
_______________________________________
In conclusion will isn't toxic and he isn't perfect and if I'm wrong about something please point it out cause I haven't read the books in a while and if I missed something please point it out and I'm sorry for the typos I wrote this without wearing my glasses as 3 am after studying for a test
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why i love aziraphale and why i find his character so heartbreaking
So I made a post on why I relate to Crowley and I adore him, obviously. I think a few you misunderstood what I meant there, though (which is understandable, I was a bit incoherent but that is inevitable on this blog). I wasn't saying Aziraphale didn't care about Crowley or was horrible to him, rather the opposite.
What I was saying was maybe Crowley felt unloved against his better judgement, because he knows he is loved by Aziraphale, but maybe everything he has been through has started to chip away at that knowledge. It's happened to me, I'm sure it's happened to a few of you. You are assured that you are loved, you can see them doing things for you, but you feel unloved. Maybe because of the other people who don't love you. Maybe because... you don't love yourself.
But I definitely wasn't putting down Aziraphale, who is a beautiful character. I adore him. I love how every single second, all his emotions are on his face. That's actually how I realised they'd switched bodies--in heaven, 'Aziraphale' had a cool, dismissive look on his face. That could only be Crowley, I knew, because Crowley is a bit better (not a lot, not around Azi of course) at masking his emotions.
That's what's so beautiful about Azi, we can just see how much he feels, how much he adores Crowley, how much hope he had, how much faith in Heaven, how much determination to do the right thing. How determined he is to keep Crowley safe, to make Crowley smile and laugh, and how much it kills him every time he has to push Crowley away for both of their sakes, or he thinks he has to. You both want to protect that optimism and faith, and also shake him and tell him the truth. But how do we know better than him, a 6000 year old angel? There's so much that we don't know, that may have happened behind the scenes, that's orchestrating his decisions.
Some of you are certain that there is more, that he doesn't still believe that what Heaven offers is genuine, because how could he? I'm also sure that there is more, but can I also offer an alternate idea? Even if there wasn't more, maybe he isn't to blame if he did continue to believe in Heaven's goodness.
We've been in toxic relationships. With friends, partners, family. I know how hard it is to accept that something you love is not worthy of that love. Something you admired is something flawed. Something you would do anything to keep is something you need to push away.
The worst of all, of course, is that time, somewhere in our childhood or teens or adulthood, when a lot of us realise our parent or parents are not heroes. That we don't agree with them. That they were wrong about a lot of things. Because they taught us everything, they were our guides, how could they be wrong? And if we can't believe in them, then what are we supposed to believe in?
Maybe Aziraphale is going through that journey, over all those millennia. Some of us are forced to realise it before we even turn ten, some of us haven't realised it yet, some of us may not ever or may not need to.
Maybe Aziraphale is just a child of God, realising that Heaven, his technical family, is not the Good that not only they but the entire world believes them to be. Everyone says Heaven is good, including a lot of Hell, including a lot of humankind, it's just given. What is Heavenly is good. And Aziraphale wants to be good.
But he's going through that painful journey of realising that good may not be what he was taught, that good comes in many shades and tints and hues. And we can see him do it, we can see him defy Heaven and God, for Crowley or for humans or for himself. He's doing it, and we need to see how it isn't easy for him. Having your entire system of belief deconstructed is painful and awful. And if you were wrong once, how do you know you won't be the next time?
It's hard enough for Crowley, torn between whether he was unworthy or whether Heaven was wrong. Imagine the tumult that Aziraphale goes through, because if Heaven accepts him and Heaven isn't always good, does that mean Aziraphale has been doing it all wrong all his life?
He's going through something that we all go through, and is every bit as relatable as Crowley is. I love them both so much. I'm so glad that there's a third season, to see how that arc closes, to see if maybe they find the answers we're all looking for.
@adverbian and @howmanyholesinswisscheese, I hope this helps? Again, I haven't watched season 2 yet and have a horrible memory since I've been watching season 1 heavily medicated, so this is just from what I know and can tell and headcanon, perhaps.
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