#It sucks so bad being so volatile

[ranvwoop]

i am going to be so vulnerable in public for just a second. literally just for lack of therapy and for the love of psuedoanonymity except. it isn't really

[teethburger]

i think we don’t talk enough about how terrible puberty must have been for peri. can you imagine being thirteen years old in a world with no other thirteen year olds. and also you’re a magical creature capable of destroying the universe when you get too angry. I would start killing

[tchotchkez]

😮‍💨

[sorry for the hardcore tag rants, y'all]

[ronkeyroo]

How do you call it when you want to sigh deeply but in a pleasant way but also scream and slam the wall at the same time but also you generally feel good but like STUFF STILL BUGS YOU and there are alot of intrusive memories and bad people you want to literally turn into paste but also you already came to terms that they’re nobodies and my life looks so much better now without their garbage presence and i’ve been super productive too??? finishing two wonderful sculptures and commission work and had a gorgeous meal with my wonderful partner AND THE DAY WAS WONDERFUL BUT IT STILL FEELS BITTERSWEET AND I STILL WANT TO AHGHFGGGHHHHHH

[evanpetersmybf]

Be mine?

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.

Genre: Smut.

Word count: 3,172

Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.

A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.

He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.

He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.

Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.

“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”

“Huh, excuse me?”

“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.

You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.

“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”

He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.

“Have you listened to Nirvana?”

“Just like… Two songs?”

“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”

“Guilty.”

Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?

After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.

For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.

“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.

Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.

After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.

In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.

“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.

He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.

“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.

“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”

‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.

He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.

Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.

That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.

“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”

Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.

“I’m sorry, what did you?—”

“Did you like the song?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She’s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”

He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.

The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.

With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.

He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.

Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.

Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.

The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.

He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.

Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.

That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.

One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.

“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.

“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,

You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”

Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.

“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.

“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”

“No.”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.

Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.

His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.

His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.

“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Hahah, you funny.”

He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.

“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”

“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.

“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”

This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.

Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.

After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.

His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.

The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.

He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.

“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.

Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”

“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.

Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.

“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.

This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.

Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.

He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.

“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.

His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.

Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”

“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.

Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.

She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”

He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.

You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.

Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.

He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.

He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.

The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.

His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.

Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.

He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.

“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.

“Tate, I feel like I’m—”

“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.

All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.

“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”

You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”

Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.

“Y/N…?”

“Mh, what is it, Tate?”

“I love you… Please be mine?”

[helluvapoison]

Make Me Weak

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you

• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more

• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead

• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“But I didn’t do anything?”

“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”

Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head

“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”

Your light laugh makes her smile again

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world

• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray

• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body

• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”

A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you

“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”

“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?

• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up

• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer

• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.

“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”

Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”

“Exactly why I need you there.”

“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”

A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.

“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.

He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

How murderous is Karkat and Eridan?

Eridan: "killin is all i evver done practically the ocean wwas my killing cauldron"

Karkat: loves his friends so much that it hurts

They're both really blasé about killing things like imps or game enemies, and neither of them WANT to hurt their friends. Eridan's just more used to it because it was his whole job, and he's a lot better at fighting than Karkat is.

Vriska at one point says to John that her bodycount is probably "many thousands," so we can probably use that as a reference and assume Eridan's in that same bracket, because he and Vriska have a lot of parallels. In fact, I'd go so far as to call Vriska and Eridan a literary device called "parallel characters" - by listening to Vriska tell John about her feelings about her bodycount and of her place in society, we get to learn about how Eridan's feeling, too.

If we set the bar at 3000 (the low end of "many thousands") and Vriska and Eridan are both the equivalent of 13 years old, or a little less than 700 weeks, that meant he and Vriska were averaging out to multiple kills a week (and given they probably didn't start when they were newhatches and 3000 is a low estimate, like... it was probably an insane number like 5-7 kills/week). But never anyone they "cared about," in Vriska's words, until the Team Charge debacle, or Eridan went berserk on Feferi and Sollux (we should also keep in mind that Eridan outright says to Kanaya that he doesn't want to kill people he considers his friends).

But Eridan is significantly less emotionally intelligent than Vriska (a fucking feat), has less of a support system, and has a lot of Duty and Responsibility and Fate of the Species on his shoulders, so he copes a lot worse (again, a fucking feat). For Eridan, it's less about "being murderous," and more about "society demands that I be murderous" + "if I am not murderous, everybody dies" + "when I grow up, murder is my only viable career path".

He's ANXIOUS AS FUCK at his core. Via their parallel character status, we know from Vriska that they're both actually really nervous about growing up and taking their place in a society that demands bloodshed from them. When Eridan obsesses over genocide, it's a byproduct of Literally Being The Guy That Is Preventing Genocide (to the point of not really having other hobbies). We also know that he feels guilt towards his victims (or at least more than Feferi), which we know from Vriska is societally unacceptible. And if it's unacceptible for her to feel bad, then imagine how much less okay it is for the sea dweller.

So I wouldn't necessarily call Eridan murderous - like with most things regarding Eridan, it's more complicated than that - but I would call him "on a hair trigger", "conditioned to reach towards murder as an early solution," and "obsessively/anxiously trying to live up to how murderous society demands he be," all while not at all wanting to kill people he cares about. I think it's really important to note that, even though the higher the blood the more volatile the troll, and despite being unauspiced and unmoirailled, and without relying on sopor, Eridan did not start shooting to kill until Sollux and Feferi escalated the situation.

And before anyone mentions that Feferi's in the same boat, she spends practically the whole time with Sollux, who is foreshadowed to be her moirail.

Like, the tragedy of Eridan's character is that he's lonely and terrified, but does such a good job at putting up an obnoxious front that even a lot of the audience became convinced that he basically sucked and his problems didn't matter. His dumbass plan to go to Jack was a genuine attempt to save Feferi, the person he cared most about.

If you go back and look at that conversation, Eridan's casual casteist threats aren't genuine (see my pinned Eridan essay for details) - and SOLLUX is the one who says "I should have killed you when I had the chance". And Eridan DOESN'T KILL SOLLUX, because this whole time, Eridan has not wanted to kill his friends. It's not until Feferi - the person he cares most about, the one whom he concocted that suicidal mission in order to save - turns on him in agreement that Sollux should've killed him - that makes Eridan finally lose it.

Meanwhile, Karkat just loves his friends. He loves them so fucking much. I think this is pretty well-documented about him? He's got no qualms about murdering game constructs like imps and the black king, but he feels deeply fucking hurt and betrayed by Bec Noir since he bonded with Jack/Spades Slick. I don't think Karkat ever makes a genuine death threat against anybody but past!Eridan, but he and Eridan are heavily foreshadowed to be moirails, and that conversation has a hilarious bit in the middle where Karkat seemingly forgets that he's mad at the guy and just starts telling him he's a dumbass. Later on, he expresses missing his dead friends, including/especially the assholes, in the same segment as the meteor runs into dead Feferi and Eridan, so I think that that was more an angry outburst than a genuine desire to see Eridan dead.

In fact, even though he's basically shown nothing but scorn for Gamzee and Gamzee's religious beliefs and clown-ness, and even after Gamzee murders two people and seems to be trying to murder them all, Karkat can't bring himself to kill or even fight the guy, just shooshpap him down, later ranting that Gamzee was a lovable bullshit clown that he liked a lot, and (one of) his best friend(s).

So they're both in this boat of not wanting to kill their friends, but feeling societally pressured into grandstanding that they're TOTALLY murderous assholes just trust me - but Eridan was in a position where he was forced to do it at the detriment of any other hobbies, or else everybody died, and is also one of the best fighters on the team, if not THE best. Thus, the fact that it's a viable option is not only near the forefront of his mind at all times, but he has the skills to resort to it. I guess technically, that does make him more murderous, but it's also, like... any normal person in his situation would wind up the same way, honestly.

[alexvolleyball]

His friends saw your quarrel

characters: Paul Lahote; Seth Clearwater; Sam Uley; Leah Clearwater; Embry Call; Quil Ateara; Jacob Black.

warring: fluff; angst; hurt/comfort; dirty talk; Paul Lahote; profanity; lgbt with Leah; 18+ content; rude characters.

a/n: English is not my first language, so apologise for mistakes and other errors. If you don’t like my content, please pass me by. Be kinder and nose reading. Dividers are mine.

w: 5,3k

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Paul Lahote ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

You are once again taking a walk with your best friend, Jasper. To be honest, you haven’t been in the mood since morning because your period started. You knew the nature of your friend, so you were surprised by his composure. But it was precisely next to him that you felt much better. After all, the ability to manage other people's emotions isn't such a bad thing.

But going for a walk with someone your boyfriend can't stand is a terrible idea. Paul is a rock-solid and caring man, always ready to stand by you through thick and thin. However, his short temper is like a ticking time bomb. Even if you merely trip over a tree root, he would likely go on a tirade, ready to unleash havoc in the name of your safety. On one hand, it's sweet that he would move mountains for you, but on the other... being around him can be downright terrifying at times. It's like walking on eggshells, never quite knowing what might set him off.

Taking a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, you smiled brightly. Jasper settled onto a nearby rock, his gaze drifting deep into the woods. Vibrant yellow and red leaves danced down from the trees, gathering in delicate heaps on the ground. A mischievous idea sparked in your mind. You dashed over to a towering pile of leaves and leapt into it, sending a cascade of colorful foliage flying in every direction. Jasper chuckled, walking up to you. “Feeling any better?” he asked, extending his hand to help you up. But instead of taking his hand, you grasped his arm and pulled him down beside you. Now, both of you were sprawled in the leaves, laughter bubbling up like a mountain spring.

“Oh my goodness, what a child you are,” Jasper remarked, shaking his head in playful disbelief. He noticed a small twig lodged in your hair and leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours. He gently extricated the branch and tossed it aside. Before he could utter a word, someone's fist flew into his jaw.

“Don’t you dare touch her, you bloodsucker!” That gruff voice was one you could recognize in a crowd of thousands. Paul. Jasper was trying to dodge the wolfman's blows, not yet retaliating against Paul. But your boyfriend seemed to have lost his mind: his eyes were bloodshot, nostrils flaring as he greedily sucked in air, his body trembling with rage. “You’d better back off, sweetheart!” Jared shouted, a cocky grin plastered across his face. “This is going to be one hell of a show!”

“Jared, stop him!” you yelled desperately at the guy who seemed in no rush to rein in his friend’s fury. “Jared, please!” After yet another one of your pleas, the Indian boy sighed and stepped in to separate the two before things spiraled out of control. “Easy, girls, easy. I've got the lipstick!,” Jared quipped, hoping his silly remark would lighten the mood, but instead, a fist landed solidly in his gut. “Shut up, Jared!” Paul barked, still glaring menacingly at Jasper.

Tension hung thick in the air, like a storm cloud ready to burst. You felt your heart race as you watched the chaos unfold, praying that tempers wouldn’t flare any further. The atmosphere crackled with a raw energy, a powder keg ready to explode, and you knew all too well how dangerous such a volatile situation could be.

You stepped between the guys, tears welling in your eyes as you looked at Paul, who finally shifted his gaze to you, lost in the depths of your eyes. Gradually, he came back to reality. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were going out with that… that idiot?” he asked, fists clenched like iron. “Because I knew you’d be angry,” you confessed, your words sending shockwaves through him. “Are you trying to spite me or what?!” He slammed his fist against a nearby tree, splintering it to pieces. You flinched, instinctively shrinking back. “Paul, calm down, you’re scaring her,” Jared intervened, grabbing his friend by the shoulder, trying to pull him away from you to a safe distance. “Go to hell, Jared,” Paul snapped, spinning around and delivering a punch to Jared’s gut. Jared doubled over in pain, falling to his knees. “Paul! Please, come to your senses!” You placed a hand on his cheek, turning him toward you, but he struck you across the face, sending you flying back a few meters. An oppressive silence descended, hanging in the air like a heavy fog.

“[Y/N], forgive me, darling!” Paul immediately jumped up from his spot, trying to help you, but Jasper dismissed him with a flicker of irritation, his patience clearly at its breaking point. “What the hell, you damn vampire?!” But Cullen ignored the werewolf's outburst and focused on assisting you to your feet. He gently grasped your chin between his fingers, his brow furrowing in concern as he took in the bruise marring your face, the result of the blow.

Jared, seated on his knees, stared in disbelief at his friend, who had sworn to him that he would never let his aggression touch his betrothed. It seemed Paul had failed to keep his promise. “I think it's better if we stay away from each other for a while,” you murmured, refusing to meet Paul’s gaze as Jasper effortlessly lifted you into his arms.

“Go to hell, you slut! I don’t want a fiancée like you, anyway!” Paul shouted in sheer desperation, turning into a wolf and bolting into the depths of the forest. You stifled a sob, burying your face in Jasper's shoulder. Meanwhile, Jared was torn, caught in a tug-of-war between going after Paul or offering solace to Paul’s heartbroken girl.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Seth Clearwater ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Seth had always been an open and spirited guy, that is until a certain moment. For some reason, he started ignoring your phone calls, stopped inviting you out, and simply didn’t want to spend time with you for the past two weeks. You tried to reassure yourself, thinking he was likely busy preparing for his upcoming exams. But your surprise turned to concern when his classmates mentioned that Seth hadn’t shown up at school for over a week. That set off alarm bells in your mind.

Now, you're making your way to the Clearwater house, determined to clear the air and get to the bottom of this mystery.

As you navigate the muddy path, slipping a couple of times due to the incessant rain, you can’t help but mutter under your breath. Of all places, why did Seth have to live out here in the middle of nowhere?

“Seth!” the girl banged aggressively on the door. “Open up, you scoundrel!”

“What on earth are you shouting about?”Seth's older sister appeared at the door, her beautiful face framed by the entrance. “He’s not home; he’s at school.” she paused for a moment, thinking. “Why aren’t you there? I thought school in Forks finished later.”

“That's not important! I want to see my boyfriend!” you stomped your foot and crossed your arms defiantly. “I’m not leaving until I know he’s okay.”

“He’s fine.” Leah replied tersely before slamming the door right in your face. You huffed in frustration and plopped down on the porch steps.

As evening fell, the chill in the air became palpable. The wind whistled through the trees, and the buzzing of nocturnal insects filled the silence. The branches swayed, casting eerie shadows that danced in the darkness, sending shivers down your spine. You were afraid of the dark, but more than anything, you worried about your boyfriend. Leaning against the railing, you succumbed to sleep, your thoughts drifting softly to Seth.

In the midst of a dream, you felt gentle caresses through your hair and the sensation of being carefully lifted into someone’s arms. You lingered in slumber, savoring the warmth enveloping you as you nuzzled against a collarbone, inhaling a familiar scent. Suddenly, you were laid down on a soft mattress, and smiling, you nestled closer to the body beside you.

Morning light poured through the windows, pulling you from your dreams with tender strokes brushing against your hair. Blinking into the brightness, your eyes widened in shock as you took in the sight of Seth lying next to you. He wore an apologetic smile, but before he could utter a word, “I’m sorry, [Y/N], I didn’t mean to—" you were already bolting from his bed, racing down the hallway. Disappearing from your life only to draw you back in like this? How could he dare to touch you?

“Don’t come near me, you traitor!” you shouted, trying to wrench your arm free from Seth's grasp. “I've been on edge for two weeks!” Finally breaking free, you slapped him hard across the face and then gasped in shock. “Oh God! Seth! I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry!” You reacted in a whirlwind of emotions, hitting your boyfriend just like those drama queens you used to roll your eyes at. Tears started to well up in your eyes, and you didn’t even give him a chance to explain.

“Wow,” Leah exclaimed from the kitchen, stirring her tea. “I never thought I'd witness a classic American soap opera come to life right in front of me.”

“Screw this!” Seth snapped, his expression serious. “[Y/N], please, just give me some time, and I swear I’ll explain everything. Not now, but someday—I promise.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, forcing a chuckle. “Can I at least give you a hug?”

“Don't tell me you're actually asking if you can start a family with her?” the girl scowled, glancing from you to your brother. “That’s just disgusting.”

“Leah!”

“Since the day I was born, it’s been Leah.” She rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her cookie. “I don’t need you to remind me of my name.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Sam Uley ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

You were tired of the ridiculous rumors about Sam. Your boyfriend, the founder of some gang? Nonsense! He is a decent and educated man—there’s no way he’s the head of a gang. But the problem is… your father believed those rumors and forbade you from seeing Sam. Instead of standing up for your relationship, he went along with your dad. Does he really not care about you? Was he just playing with your feelings like he did with Leah?

Determined to get to the bottom of things, you decided to follow him after spotting him outside a store. Throwing on a long black coat, a large black hat, and some ridiculous fake mustache, you waited until he was safely out of sight before you began to tail him, hiding behind lampposts and trees whenever he glanced back. Silly? Yes. Effective? You bet!

Eventually, you found yourself at his house, where a couple of guys had gathered. They were all shirtless, and as you hid behind a tree, you couldn’t help but admire the sight of the muscular guys, feeling both intrigued and a bit flustered.

“Sam, who is that?” one of the Indian asked, pointing towards the tree where you stood. “Do you have secret admirers?” After his friend's words, Sam shot him an annoyed glance before heading in your direction. Grabbing you by the elbow, he brought you to the center of the clearing, and all eyes were suddenly on you. Swallowing hard, you nervously waved your arms, desperately searching for an explanation. In an instant, Sam yanked off your hat and those ridiculous fake mustaches, staring at you in shock. “[Y/N]? What are you doing here?”

“Exactly, [Y/N]!” a girl stomped her foot. “I have the same question for you!” She poked Sam in the chest with her finger, her expression fierce.

“This is my home. I live here.” The man looked at you in confusion, crossing his arms over his chest. You mirrored his action, narrowing your eyes at him, your cheeks puffed up. Honestly, he didn’t want to argue with you, especially not now, when you looked so cute. His cute girlfriend. “Listen, I don’t want to fight with you, especially in front of others, and—” He didn’t get to finish, as his friend interrupted him.

“Nothing! We don’t mind watching a family squabble! Hey, Paul, do we have any beer left?”

“Jared, shut up and don’t interfere in other people’s conversations,” Sam said firmly, while Paul gave Jared a light smack on the back of the head and, putting an arm around his friend's shoulders, walked away, leaving you two alone. “Honey, this is a tough time for me, and I just want you to be safe.”

“Don’t you want to ask me what I want?” You stepped toward him impulsively. “I don’t care if it’s dangerous to be around you or not. I want answers, Sam Uley! Just tell me what the problem is! Maybe I can help?” You lowered your head, feeling defeated, and sank to your knees, covering your eyes with your hands as you tried to calm your racing heart and sort through your tangled thoughts.

The man crouched down beside you, gently stroking your hair. He always did this when you felt low. “[Y/N], I love you so much, and I want to make sure you’re safe.” Sam pulled you close, enveloping you in his strong arms—his broad frame almost shielding you from view. As you melted into his embrace, a sense of calm washed over you.

“Sam, I love you too, but if you keep pushing me away, you’re only going to hurt us both.” You pressed a soft kiss on his neck, your hands gliding over his bare back. “If you don’t want to explain, that’s fine. Just please don’t leave me; don’t abandon me. I can’t live without you!” You trembled at the thought.

He tilted your chin up gently, offering a weary smile. “I too can't imagine living without you,” he gently kissed you on the lips, as if trying to convey what he couldn't say. “I'm sorry; someday you'll understand everything.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Leah Clearwater ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Your girlfriend was so rude to your best friend. Could it be that she's jealous?

Leah had always been hot-tempered and abrasive, but with you, she turned sweet and gentle. However, she could hardly tolerate your friends. They drew too much attention away from her. When she found out you were going to the beach with Bella, it was like a storm had hit her home. Anyone but Bella—the vampire’s girlfriend! There was just something about her that drove Lea up the wall. She acted as if the world owed her something, strutting around like a self-appointed princess.

You and your best friend Bella were sitting on the sand, engaged in a lively discussion while gazing out at the beautiful sea. Suddenly, Bella placed her hand on your shoulder, about to say something, when a jolt of pain shot through her arm, making her cry out. Stunned, you turned to see an angry Leah, her fists clenched tight, glaring fiercely at Bella. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Leah! What are you doing?!” you shot up to your feet, scolding your girlfriend. Leah's posture shifted, her arms drawing in close as though she were a scolded puppy, looking back at you with an expression of guilt. “What’s gotten into you?” you exclaimed, rushing to help Bella while dodging Leah’s snarls.

“And why does she think it’s okay to lay her hands on my girlfriend?” Leah retorted, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. “Right now, you’re the one laying your hands on someone,” you shot back, casting a stern glance at her before turning your attention to Bella’s injury. “Oh crap, Swan, you’ve broken something!” you said, gently helping her to her feet, determined to escort her home.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Leah asked, concern thick in her voice.

“Anywhere but here!” you replied without looking back, the weight of the tension still heavy in the air.

All this time, a shocked Seth stood nearby, wanting to invite everyone over to Emily's house, but it seemed he had arrived at the wrong moment. “What happened?” he asked, approaching his sister. But she just gave him a worried glance and, without saying a word, went inside her home.

Once she reached her room, she lay down on her bed, pulling the blanket over herself. Seth remembered this scene vividly and felt a wave of dread. She had looked just the same after her breakup with Sam. He didn't want his sister to sink back into such a state again. “Leah, is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just go away, Seth. It's my fault,” she muttered, burying herself deeper in the blanket, trembling slightly. “It's all over now.”

“Nothing is over! I'm going to talk to her!” But the girl didn’t respond to his words. Leah knew she had made a mistake and she accepted her error, but there was no way to fix it.

Seth was persistently knocking at your door, and as soon as you opened it, he barged into the house. “Alright, let's measure up!” he said, grabbing you by the elbow and pulling you outside.

“Seth! Let go of me! At least give me a chance to change!” You stood in the middle of the street in your short pajamas, which barely covered your exposed skin. Covering your chest with one hand, you glanced around, hoping no one would see you. “I don't care,” Seth replied, scooping you up in his arms. His body provided some cover from prying eyes. “I'll get you to my place in no time!”

Well, he wasn't lying when he said he'd get home quickly. Just five minutes later, you found yourself standing at the entrance to the Clearwater house. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, you stepped inside, feeling a shiver run down your spine from the contrast of the warm interior and the chilly weather outside. As you climbed the stairs, you winced at the creaking of the wooden steps. Upon reaching your girlfriend’s room, you knocked a couple of times before entering.

Leah's room was dimly lit, almost gloomy. You struggled to find the light switch in the dense darkness, and once you flipped it on, you approached her bed and sat down. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight. Leah abruptly threw off her blanket, ready to unleash her frustration at Seth, but froze when she saw you before her.

“Hello, Leah.”

“[Y/N]?” The girl looked at you in shock, first glancing at you, then over your shoulder at Seth, who was leaning casually against the doorframe. “What nonsense has he been feeding you?” Leah snapped, her eyes narrowing as she took in your appearance from head to toe. “And why are you dressed like that?” After her question, Seth bolted out of the room.

“He said what he needed to say!” you huffed, curling up under the blanket beside her. “Come on, move over—I’m freezing.” You wrapped your arms around her waist and nestled your face against her warm shoulder. “You have no idea how hot are you,” you confessed, and then immediately clapped a hand over your mouth. “Not in the way you’re thinking, though that too. I mean—ugh! Forget it! I’m going to sleep.” In response to your jumbled words, you heard a sweet laugh, feeling her embrace you in return.

“I'll show Seth how to steal you away from home tomorrow! And…” She paused for a moment. “I'm sorry, please forgive me. I don't know what came over me.”

“It's okay, I forgive you. But please, don't do that again.”

“I'll try.”

“Lea!”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Embry Call ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

You like your boyfriend’s friend Jacob is loyal and kind, but Embry has been sneaking away to spend time with him way too often. Today is no exception. You were heading over to your boyfriend’s place to enjoy your usual Friday movie night, where it was your turn to pick the film. Last time, Embry chose ‘Attack of the Killer Tomatoes,’ and to be honest, you were left in shock by his choice. It made him seem a bit silly, and the thought of him picking the next film sent shivers down your spine.

You had decided on a horror movie for tonight: ‘Smile 2.’ You couldn't help but smile at the anticipation of being scared, imagining how Embry would wrap his arms around you, kiss you, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear to comfort you. Giggling and spinning in excitement, you knocked on the door, but only silence greeted you. Feeling annoyed, you circled the house, only to realize that no one was home. Anger surged within you at the thought of where he might be, and with a determined turn, you headed towards Jacob’s house. “I’m going to show that little pup how to keep his hands off my boyfriend!”

“Embry, toss me the seventeen,” Jacob shouted, inspecting the car's wheel. “Just a little more and this baby will be as good as new!”

“I think [Y/N] is upset with me…” Embry approached the toolbox, grabbed the required wrench, and went over to help his friend with the car.

“Girls are just… well, girls,” Black chimed in with a chuckle. “Listen, you’d better apologize properly…” Jacob raised his eyebrows, giving him a knowing look. “You know, like really lay it on thick.” He stuck out his tongue and pointed at him playfully.

“What?!” Embry pulled back in shock. “Dude, we’re not even eighteen yet!”

“Yeah, but that didn’t stop our classmate Betty.”

“Because our classmate Betty is just... just…” Embry paused, searching for a more tactful way to say it. “She's just a bad girl! And [Y/N] and I are not like that!”

“Maybe... damn it!” Jacob shouted as the tire slipped off, pinning him under the car while he was still lying underneath it. “Embry, get me out of here! I should have bought a new jack!”

Sitting on the floor next to Jacob, Embry couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't every day that your best friend had a car fall on him. Jacob didn't appreciate his buddy's good mood and shoved him playfully in the shoulder. They started to mock-fight after that. “Listen, about [Y/N]...” Embry paused for a moment, tuning into his friend's words. “Girls don’t just turn on ‘Sex and the City’ for nothing. Use your noggin, bro! Even Seth isn't as innocent as you think!”

“Well, at least you've got yourself a catch!” Your voice rang out like thunder in the serene garage, and suddenly, silence fell like a heavy shroud. “You’ve already stolen my guy! Are there no other options?” You strode up to Embry and passionately kissed him right in front of Jacob. He grimaced and rolled his eyes, while your guy, flustered, turned you both so that his back was facing Jacob. “He's mine!” you declared after the kiss. “And I'm taking him with me!” You grabbed Embry’s hand, intertwining your fingers, and led him toward the garage exit.

“Go ahead and take him, I've got plenty more like him!” Jacob chuckled, genuinely happy for his friend. “Just make sure to name your kid after me!”

“We’ll think about it!” you replied, wrapping your arms around Embry as you strolled casually to his house. You couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the boys’ conversation and realized that, with someone like Embry, you definitely wanted children. He took such good care of you and would never do anything to disrupt your comfort. Thus, you firmly decided that after you turned eighteen, you would gift him your heart and soul for his birthday. Although he was younger than you by just a few months, he certainly looked older and possessed a maturity that surpassed that of typical teenagers.

Lost in admiration as you gazed at his profile, you didn’t even notice that you had arrived at his home. Well, the evening promised to be enchanting.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Quil Ateara ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Quil was always a kind and calm guy. He had never raised his voice at you, and there was always a sense of peace in your relationship. But something had changed; he had grown sharper and more cautious, as if he were searching for someone in the darkness during your walks. He stopped spending the night at home, and you increasingly noticed him without a shirt. You knew the legend of the Quileutes. But surely, that was just a legend, right?

While wandering through the forest, you didn’t expect to encounter anyone else, let alone here, in your favorite spot where you and Quil used to have your dates. But there, sitting alone, was a pale-faced young man. As you accidentally stepped on a twig, the sharp crack echoed through the stillness, and he turned toward you abruptly. Your heart seemed to stop. His red eyes filled you with a primal fear, and you instinctively took a step back.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” the guy smirked as he slid down from a large log, slowly approaching you like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. “What are you doing all alone out here, gorgeous?” He laughed in a way that sent chills down your spine, and in the blink of an eye, he was right next to you, revealing his white, sharp teeth. “Didn't your parents teach you that wandering through the woods alone can be dangerous?” He leaned in closer to your neck, inhaling your scent and rolling his eyes in delight. “Mmm, I can just tell you’re going to be quite a treat…” His tongue traced along your collarbone as he gripped the fabric of your light summer dress, which seemed like it might tear under the pressure. “I’ll show you how…”

“Didn’t your parents teach you that you shouldn’t come on to other guys’ girls?” Quil’s broad back appeared, shielding you from the unknown guy who had been tossed aside by Quil with a considerable force. “I’ll wipe the floor with you, you disgusting bloodsucker.” Your boyfriend’s eyes turned crimson as he bent down and began to shake with rage. You heard the tearing of fabric, and in the place where your boyfriend stood, an enormous wolf emerged—one that was unmistakably different from the ordinary. You noticed another wolf leap out from the bushes, lunging at the pale-faced guy.

They tore him apart together. And then the wolf, which had taken Quill's place, ripped off the guy's head and spat it out.

You watched in horror as everything unfolded. First, some pervert, and then Quill appeared, transformed into that huge wolf; then another one joined, and they tore the guy's head off and... Wait, where did they go? Before you could collect your thoughts, the wolves vanished into the bushes, and then instead of them, Quill and Embry emerged. An angry Quill and a worried Embry.

“[Y/N]! What the hell are you doing wandering around by yourself like this?” he roughly grabbed your shoulders, lifting you off the cold ground.

“Quil, she's in shock, maybe…”

“Don't interfere, Embry!” After he shouted at his friend, Quil turned back to you, ready to say something more, but when he saw your tears, he stopped. “Sweetheart…” As an empath, he seemed to sense everything you were feeling. It pained him deeply, and he felt like tearing his own throat out. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” He pulled you into his gentle embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. “God, you smell like that corpse…” But he quickly added a smirk. “We’ll definitely need to get rid of that stench, huh?” Quil traced a line of soft kisses from your shoulder to your ear. “Tonight, we’re going to relax properly,” he whispered, his warm breath enveloping your ear. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you, now that you… well, you’ve seen it all.”

“Alright…” you whispered, sniffing back your tears. “I trust you.”

“How sweet,” Embry said, wiping away his accumulated tears as he sniffled. “You two are just perfect together.”

“Oh come on, Embry, get a grip, man.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ Jacob Black ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

You’re happy that your boyfriend has such wonderful friends. But he talks about Bella too often. Are you having breakfast together? He starts saying how he’s eating Bella. Are you out for a walk? He tells you where he went with Bella. Are you working out together? He mentions Bella's body and how fragile she is compared to you. That was the last straw.

You’re sitting with the guys at Emily’s, ordering pizza. Somehow, the conversation shifts from Seth wetting his pants as a kid to "Bella’s relationships with a vampire." Jacob, of course, chimes in, passionately defending Bella and blaming everything on Edward. Then, out of the blue, Jared makes a slip about the recent kiss between Jake and Bella, and suddenly the room falls silent, all eyes on you.

You bite your lip and bolt out of the house. Jacob barely catches up to you, grabbing your arm. You yell at him in response. Those who were inside the house rush out to see what’s happening. “Don’t you dare touch me!” you scream, shoving him away. “I've had enough! I’m tired of putting up with this kind of treatment! I like Bella and I'm fine with your communication with her, but you've crossed the line!”

“[Y/N], let me explain…”

“No, Jacob. It's over.” You tried to pull your hand free from his strong grip, but it was no use. “Let me go!” You couldn't hold back any longer and slapped him across the face. Everyone who was laughing fell silent at the sound of the pained cry that escaped your lips. “Damn it! Damn it!” You pressed your injured hand against yourself and dropped to your knees. The guy tried to approach you, but you pushed him away with your healthy hand. Then Embry and Quil rushed over, helping you to your feet and guiding you into the car to take you to the Cullens.

“Now that’s a solid punch,” Jared chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, puppies need to be trained.” Almost immediately, he received a punch to the stomach from Jacob.

Jacob paced back and forth, reflecting on his behavior. Had he really messed up? Undoubtedly. He had kissed someone else's girlfriend while he already had one of his own. Slapping himself on the cheek, Jacob sank down onto his bed, pulling his knees to his chest. Just then, he heard his father opening the front door and conversing with someone. Straining to listen, he quickly recognized your voice and bolted out of his room, knocking things over in his haste.

The moment he caught sight of you, he rushed forward, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a joyful spin. With a health hand, you playfully tapped his shoulder, signaling him to set you down.

“Forgive me! I'm so messed up!” He finally set you down on the floor. “I swear I’ll never do anything like that again. You’re my one and only! I didn’t realize how much you were hurting.” He let go of your head but immediately lifted it again. “Go on, hit me as hard as you can so that I feel the pain!” He spread his arms wide, exposing his chest and waiting for you to strike.

“Oh, no! I’m not going to hit you!” You waved your casted arm in front of him, chuckling.

“I think I'm going to hit him!” Jared's voice echoed who had brought you here, as he approached Jacob, and without a second thought, he shoved his friend outside and landed a solid punch to his gut, sending Jacob flying several meters and crashing through a couple of trees. You stood there in shock, mouth agape, watching Jacob laugh as he dusted himself off, shaking off the dirt and debris.

“Well, now he definitely won’t be bothering you anymore,” Jared winked at you, then took off running as Jacob playfully tried to retaliate with a mock punch. You let out a deep sigh, and suddenly heard a matching weighty sigh beside you. Billy shook his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes, and invited you to join him for a cup of tea, sensing that the boys would keep up their antics for quite some time.

© 2024 do not reblog, copy or publish my work on other platforms, or translate (without my permission) into other languages.

[ijustthinkhesneat]

I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

[maxwell-grant]

Only one of his at least 5 identities was a straight-up FF villain, but that story was iconic and also he's tied to them by blood, so. Thoughts on Kang? Please don't just talk about how the MCU handled him.

I'm not gonna talk about the MCU at all actually, but Kang was a colossally stupid idea for a next big bad/Thanos from the get-go, he is just not great villain material. The issue with Kang, besides the time travel variant bullshit complications that have their uses but are clearly a major factor against his viability as a villain (and besides him being overwhelmingly a classic Avengers villain and classic Avengers being overwhelmingly boring), is that everything is too utilitarian with him. His core concept makes it so that either he wins too easily, because he has literally all the time and resources he could possibly need to win, or he loses despite having all the time and resources he could possibly need to win, which makes him a colossal loser. He has all-powerful resources and is kinda inevitably fated to win, and is still a chump loser who is also inevitably fated to lose and become an even more boring person at the end.

Nothing Kang does matters, because all of his victories are cheating, and everything he does can be erased and retconned away with another time jump, and so he's forever stuck between anti-climactic boring victories in a vacuum, because he can bend time, and being a chump, because that's what you are if you're bending time and still losing. I heard Kang described as the cosmic equivalent of a bored rich white hunter who goes to hunt animals in nature preserves just because he can, except the animals are constantly kicking his ass, and that's really fun, that's a good character to have around, but that's not really thrilling big bad material.

I think Kang works fine in his current role as someone who will never materially be a big deal supervillain, in a world where Doctor Doom exists, but is powerful and far-reaching and full of enough potentially interesting bullshit that you can pin stuff on him. Not at all an exciting villain to put big stuff in, but as some horrible guy everyone has to deal with, Father Time as a pompous punchable and horribly petty supervillain who can always make a situation cosmically volatile by showing up, is a thing you can bounce good stuff out of in 1-to-1 character interactions, even with himself.

The very things he has going for him as a character make him suck if you try and make him the main threat to take down, but he's good connective tissue and a decent interim villain and a nice fixed quantity to pin dynamics around, and every direction you can take his character is covered by an alternate identity he has, which are essentially different characters, and that can be interesting too, having a time traveling villain fragmented enough that he can sit on a circle with versions of himself at potentially different points of his life and they will be essentially different characters, that kind of stuff is pretty interesting to me.

To me he's like Apocalypse, in the sense that he's really only interesting to me as a character who exists in this world and not so much as a villain, but at least as a villain Apocalypse says and does cool sick shit on occasion, where as Kang, despite some efforts (I did like his solo mini), ultimately only interesting for what he brings out of others. Which can be good, again I do like him somewhat, I think his existence as a major player/threat the Avengers have to deal with is perfectly justified, but he is an Avengers problem largely because he's not good enough to be a Fantastic Four problem, hence why, as Kang the Conqueror, he is consigned to a suitably mediocre existence, as the number two time-traveling supervillain of the world.

[indelen]

This is my reread of the Lockwood and Co. Books, organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea , I'll make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me.

Part IV: Chapters 19-21

There is something to be said about how effectively the book builds tension. We spend so much time before the night actually starts and the trio gets to the actual haunting. The time on the train. The time walking around the grounds. The time listening to Fairfax bloviate. And the entire time the sun is going down and the tension builds and builds. You hate Fairfax more and more. You hate the house and its ugly tapestries and fancy uncomfortable furniture. You understand how dangerous this job is and how little the person who hired these kids values life. It’s very effective. By the time we get to the actual Red Room we’re already on edge. And this is something that’s kind of hard to build in a TV show. You’ll lose momentum if it’s stretched over a period of several episodes and what’s effective on the page is harder to translate on screen. But if you cram everything into one episode the tension never builds in a satisfying way. I personally would have loved to see a two parter with one episode before going into the Red Room, one after and one additional lighthearted intermission one where the fallout is discussed and the audience gets a breather before heading into Whispering Skull. But that’s just not the way TV is made these days.

Bits and pieces:

I love how subtly the books reveal more and more about The Problem. The Screaming Staircase is very much an introduction but even here we see the beginning of the overarching plot. Not only are there ghosts and the world sucks because of them, but in really bad hauntings you get a sort of psychic cascade where the Visitors feed off each other’s power and create one psychically volatile place. We will later learn that Lucy is, in a way, more right than she realizes when she says “The house was just a gate”. From here every book builds on this idea. The Whispering Skull shows us humans have been trying to manufacture this kind of effect on purpose since way before The Problem. The Hollow Boy shows us it’s being done still. Creeping Shadow shows to what end. Final book pulls all these threads together. As much as I would have loved more books with more adventures and pining, thematically the five books complete the story in a very satisfying way. The overall plot is revealed gradually but effectively to its natural resolution.

Truly art worth preserving at the cost of multiple human lives. Trio should have definitely set this one on fire. As a treat.

Fairfax is the most “peaked in highschool” man ever. This is an 80 year old man, one of the richest and most powerful people in the country, he lived a whole life in the best and most privileged possible way. And yet he still returns to and mythologizes and obsesses over his past. He devises this whole plan when in all likelihood it’s not necessary. Even if some kids do have some necklace that has some initials in it, DEPRAC jumps when he claps! You can’t tell me he doesn't have enough money and influence to make all this go away! But he pulls this overcomplicated plan anyway because he just can’t bear the romantic image of his youthful self being diminished. I mentioned before that Lockwood’s love of disguises and theatrical accents is a bit much because it’s a childlike quality, an endearing one in a kid but one he learns to temper with age. He grows up. Fairfax never does and it ruins him. This is a recurring theme in these books - powerful adults addicted to the image they built for themselves in their youth so much they throw a tantrum when it’s threatened and this undoes them.

There is a great irony in Fairfax saying this to Lockwood who is actually a hero suspended between life and death due to actual tragedies in his life. Fairfax cosplayed being an actor, he partied, had illicit affairs, committed crimes and then when he had his fun he put on a suit and went to run a multimillion corporation. He had the biggest, widest, sturdiest safety net imaginable. I wonder if he was even any good or if his position, money and influence in some ways paid for the recognition he received?

Love the double meaning here. Did Lucy mean “shut his trap” as in “shut his mouth” or did she, like Lockwood, already knew that this whole thing was a trap Fairfax lured them in from the beginning?

The redemption arc of The Coat!!!!!

I really do like how the book stresses the fact that Lockwood never really trusted Fairfax and seems to have a very low opinion of him but masked it well. Lockwood is extremely impassive but later when he meets other influential people who very much try to flatter him he’s just as cordial but emotionally closed off with them and it makes you think he probably doesn't like them or trust them either.

Love when Lockwood is being an absolute teenage bastard when some tries to corner him, it’s always so funny. Him casually stuffing toilet water covered plastic garbage into Fairfax’s priceless vase is up there.

The books very well sets up the levels of education the trio has. George is the most conventionally educated out of the three. Generally, when it comes to any kind of general information, there is very little he doesn't know. Lockwood seems to have a more haphazard piecemeal education, he’s aware of topics like history and anthropology, has a broad vocabulary, but there are gaps. Maybe at the start he went to a good school or had a tutor given the socioeconomic class he was born into (we know he had a nanny!), but he probably stopped his education when he started training as an agent although he kept reading his parents papers and other similar information to be close to them. Lucy meanwhile is shown to have the most gaps - she doesn't know what “ululation” means, in later books she mixes up “compliment” and “complement” and makes other mistakes like this as well. What I like is that the narrative never shames or punishes her for her lack of education (in-universe George does mock her in passing for it at the start of SS but never again even when they are at their most hostile and it’s certainly not a turn off for Lockwood at any point). Education is a basic necessity and it was adults who robbed her of it, failing her at every turn. (that she’s a girl matters here too, education for women is often more restricted). The books warn kids how easy it can be to strip away their basic human rights.

Why Lucy, that sounds dangerously like a compliment! I love the idea of George as an inverse sort of Clark Kent where his superhero mode comes when he puts on his glasses. George’s glasses are like Lockwood’s coat, a part of him, his weakness and his strength in equal measure.

Lucy describes Lockwood’s smile count: 9

[just-antithings]

honestly sucks how volatile fandom spaces have become, or more specifically that of popular ones. For example, hoyo games have a TERRIBLE fanbase, the reputation is so bad that people are advised to enjoy the games at their own leisure without paying too much attention to the community

Unfortunately content creators can’t do that

I like this one YouTuber who is an ex opera singer, who was sponsored by MiHoYo occasionally and even had a small voice role in Genshin. He analyzes various video game music, and one of his latest videos features the newly released HoYo game “zenless zone zero”

Unfortunately he got attacked by the community and was being made fun of for… sharing genuine excitement for the music in the game, or they made mean comments when he was singing along, they made fun of his hairline and accused him of mooching off Hoyoverse with the sponsorships

and this isn’t the first time I’m hearing bad things about the games community, it sucks. It drives people away from enjoying the games

though fortunately for this YouTuber, he’s met with more support than hate, I just wish people would stop being so negative and hateful

ugh yeah seriously

[ladyluscinia]

I'm already so sick of how the fallout of ofmd season 2 has snowballed into people on here going "fandom these days just can't handle Bad Things happening in media-- newsflash, characters have to get hurt and die, grow up!" all condescending like. First of all, in the context of Izzy, most people I've seen discuss his death agree that they would've accepted and enjoyed his death if it had just been handled appropriately, and also. "You just can't handle bad things happening to your fave!" Bruh. We were all partying it up when Izzy lost his fucking leg and was suffering physically and mentally. It can be FUN to see your blorbo suffer!

And that is just one example of a larger trend on this site-- people are really gonna come onto the "we love putting our blorbos in the blender and watching them struggle and suffer" site and say "kids these days can't handle Bad Things happening to their blorbos." Sorry, but that's just nonsense. Fandom loves their fix-its, but they also love shattering their faves. The problem has never been Bad Things happening in general, but HOW those things are framed within the narrative and how that narrative is told. The problem is when something is out of place in its genre, or when it goes against a promise the show has made, or when suffering is used flippantly and uncaringly, or when a character suffers and suffers and then just when they've finally caught a break, they're kicked down again, just for a cheap tug at your heartstrings.

Both within the context of ofmd AND in a wider fandom context, fandoms LOVE when our blorbos are hurt, as long as our blorbos are hurt RIGHT.

... And I think it sure is Something that a fandom can have a rampant issue with fans of a character being harassed and sent death threats and that's just "normal fandom being fandom" but god forbid people feel Emotions. About a Character and a Show. And dare to react by... just Offering Criticism! No, death threats are "fandom culture that comes with the territory," but if you vent post or criticize a writing decision in media, THAT'S being "hysterical" and "overly emotional" and "truly frightening behavior!" I just LOVE (big sarcasm) how back when people were getting doxxed and threatened for liking a guy, the fandom was all *cricket noises,* but NOW suddenly everyone is "terrified and exhausted by fandom's volatility" and "concerned about the fragile mental health of fans" when you simply say "damn that episode sucked and I sure am sad about it."

The OFMD fandom was toxic as fuck for a year and a half and continued to be toxic as fuck for all the airing of S2, so hardly surprising that the aftermath of S2 appears to be... toxic as fuck.

Least surprising thing in the world is that the people who hated Izzy and passively or actively supported driving his fans out of the fandom for "ruining it for everyone else" now think his fans should leave the fandom if they are so upset and stop leveraging "baseless criticism" at the show that is "ruining it for everyone else." They have normal not-at-all-parasocial relationships leading them to directly @ David Jenkins and thank him for a season that somehow managed to be both flawless and have all its flaws blamed on MAX, but those wretched Izzy stans have horrible-evil-parasocial relationships making them harass the crew by *footage not found*

If Mr. Jenkins decides to go scroll the #ofmd s2 tag on tumblr and stumbles across me - a random blog and icon - outlining how I think he fucked his show up, that's pretty clearly on him? This is tumblr. I have no relationship with this man or obligation to tailor every word I say as if he's bound to see it and going to take it personally???

I'm actually a big proponent of "Don't @ the cast and crew about pretty much anything" because the same fandom mentality that makes you think you can randomly ask him about your headcanon like you're chatting is what all these people are melting down about if someone directly goes "hey you killed my favorite character and that makes me mad!" - same fucking people, same fucking parasocial relationship. The standard of "only @ them for good things" is the flimsiest fucking line, as any ao3 writer who has received unsolicited "constructive criticism" or "advice" can tell you.

If we want to snidely get into "what this is really about" well it's the same fucking thing it was before:

People substituting subjective opinion as objective fact with zero self-awareness of doing so. "I liked this so it's good." "I didn't like this so it's bad." "I got bad vibes from that character so he was clearly written to be horrendous and unlikable." "I sympathized with this character so anyone suggesting he has flaws is demonizing him."

Or the deepest circle of fandom hell: "I think [insert identity] rep is so important and this piece of media fits into however I personally define 'good rep', therefore it is flawless and/or morally significant enough to be above criticism."

...which, yeah, leads to temper tantrum levels of fandom infighting, especially since people online express, fairly frequently, "I didn't like it because it was bad" and then present evidence for their point. And also a lot of fandom likes bad TV. Or even just mediocre TV that's entertaining.

I personally was not going to be happy about any person beyond one-offs, blatant villains, and background randoms dying because "they had to" (for their own arc or someone else's) because I fundamentally think if you believe you've written yourself into that corner in a workplace comedy that's built around a main romance arc... you're kinda stupid. Yes, even if it's pirate themed. Enough injuries have been walked off and lampshaded to confirm that part is aesthetic.

The fandom wiki for The Office lists 11 deceased characters. Three of them are fictional characters who die in an action-movie episode. Two are one-offs that get named dropped seasons later as having died offscreen. One of them is an offscreen cat, who appears to have had a more significant death plotwise and emotionally than any of the humans, and another is a woman who literally exists as a picture someone makes up a personality for and then discovers the real woman died. The most significant character on the list is a temp boss that got a four episode story arc about being a useless idiot who died in the hospital after a basketball dunking accident.

That is a show that ran for 9 seasons and over 200 episodes. It's pretty universally regarded as good, and the cringe asshole boss getting genuinely moving emotional beats is a big part of that. I think we can maybe pretty confidently say that reflecting the random realities of death is not essential to every story.

If OFMD wants to be evaluated as a hard-hitting drama or a queer story about the struggle of piracy against the Evil Empire, I will compare it to Black Sails instead of The Office. I just don't think David Jenkins is going to enjoy that comparison.

I'm not going to lower my standards because [insert rep reason the show must absolutely be a wild success here].

[sunstream7]

Cringe is dead. Xoxo droplets oc.

Real Chiara Hours (loredump under the cut)

Growing up in New York with her younger sister, Delilah, Chiara had a relatively stable life, if without much supervision. Her mother worked a lot, so she had Del attached to her hip. Due to this lack of supervision, she developed bad habits and poor outlets, often getting into fights.

Following the loss of their mother, Chiara (16), and Del (8) ended up in Cali with their estranged father and his wife and kids. Chiara, with no respect for authority, became the problem child, and it was a mutual decision that boarding school would be a better option. They both prefer that. Delilah is absolutely delighted to follow wherever her big sister is going.

This abrasive attitude and propensity for violence didn't fly at SSB, and with a more established presence of adults in her life, and per a teacher's suggestion, she took up boxing. This was a good and bad thing. She chills out a little bit and has a proper anger outlet, but she is frequently in the office because now she knows how to hit someone well. She's not so much a loose cannon as she is constantly trying to reign in her volatility, but lacking the real coping skills to do so, because she knows if she gets expelled, she has to go back to her father's house.

It takes Del getting into a fight with someone for Chiara to really make an effort to better herself. At the start of her junior year she really tries to embrace being kind to everyone even if it's hard.

This goes about as well as one would expect.

The game events are two years worth of Chiara gritting her teeth and making an effort, except she is trying to make an effort with the worst people in the school. She knows of the jerks for the most part, but getting forced into school-mandated group time puts her back at square one- a volatile situation with volatile people, settling her firmly in her niche of a loose cannon who gets aggressive when backed into a corner.

She respects everyone as people and (initially and foolishly) thinks that being somewhat friendly will make the world's worst group a little less terrible but it's hard when she sucks at knowing how to socialize in a way that won't set someone else off.

She only starts hanging out with the guys independently because her sister is bullying her into making more friends outside of her D&D group. She doesn't like it. Nobody involved likes it. she is gritting her teeth going to the zoo with people because she promised she'd try to be a better influence but she's. the way she is. and the way she is isnt really conducive to being a functioning member of society.

JB (and a different OC, Ayla, who doesn't have a sheet yet, smh) is also present and very true to her canon self. Chiara is initially very suspicious of her, but oddly enough, their personalities mesh remarkably well. Chiara is fine with JB calling the shots because JB doesn't try to order her around. They get slushies on Thursdays and gossip. 

ANYWAYS. That is one of the two menaces. I will yap about her if asked (please)

[anthurak]

So I was thinking more about my post earlier today analyzing why Blitzo's breakup with Stolas, or rather Stolas' breakup with Blitzo is so different from Blitzo's other destroyed relationships.

And I'm now thinking that Blitzo apparently having dozens of ex's at the 'Blitzo Sucks' party isn't quite an overblown, ridiculous number as some people have commented on.

Specifically, when we consider just how volatile and VIOLENT Blitzo's self-loathing and ingrained belief that no one cares about him can really get.

I don't think many of the people at Verosika's party represent full blown relationships Blitzo had. Instead, I imagine most only knew Blitzo for a few days or even just for some one night stand.

Now you might be wondering just how Blitzo could leave THAT bad of an impression in such a short time.

To which I say; I don't think you're given Blitzo enough credit.

Specifically, when we consider how many of those people decided they actually liked Blitzo, and even cared about him. And then decided to let Blitzo know that.

And as should be pretty clear by now, telling Blitzo that you genuinely CARE about him is like playing with a live bomb.

Imagine someone meets Blitzo at a party, thinks he's a pretty cool, fun guy and ends up having a bit of fling with him, perhaps just a single one night stand. And then decides they like this guy and let him know that they like him. Maybe they even pick up on the fact that he's got some issues he's hiding and try to reach out to help. Let Blitzo know that someone cares.

And ends up getting their attempts at sincerity mocked and thrown back in their face.

The one's who just write Blitzo off as an asshole at that point and leave? They're the smart ones, or really just the lucky ones.

Then we have the one's who try to press the issue. Try to convince Blitzo that no, they are being serious. They really do care about him.

And Blitzo, who is both terrified of genuine sincerity and utterly CONVINCED that no one could possibly care for him... probably skips past 'doubling' and goes right for tripling or QUADRUPLING down and does everything he can to DESTROY this relationship on his terms before it can possibly hurt him on anyone else's, and utterly heedless of how many he's hurting the other person.

Shouting, screaming, insults, mocking, trashing a hotel room (or even a home), stealing a car, maxing credit cards, etc, etc.

It's not so much that everyone at Verosika's parties was in a relationship with Blitzo.

It's simply everyone who made the mistake of trying to convince Blitzo that they cared about him.

[velvetvexations]

Something that frustrates me about the ptmyg situation is that like, it's so hard to counteract someone being lovebombed by transfem separatists. I wish I could send in enough supportive messages to counteract it but I'm only one person and I've got shit to do! And I don't even send messages much at all because I feel like nobody cares what I have to say anyway! But these people are so confident and send loads of messages and have the free time to do so. What on earth are we supposed to do.

You're better than me because I just deleted a post blaming her for it more than I think was warranted in retrospect. Like idk, I guess it's easy for me to say as someone who thrives on all kinds of attention to brush that kinna thing off but it just bothers me a lot. I don't like it when people give in to assholes. I don't know how to be nice about it. I literally don't know. It sucks to be such an aggressive, angry person, but it's so hard to look at the situation and not just be like, can you just do better? Even though that's probably not fair. It's a lot of pressure, I know, but it really seems so easy to me and I have a very hard time getting out of the headspace of "just do what I would do?????".

I feel bad for how volatile I am, mostly because I'm worried of how that'll affect people's perception of me. Sometimes I get anxious about when people will start to realize I'm just a dog without a leash. Genuinely wish I had the capacity to be less aggro by default without needing to be checked.

Ughhhhh. Sorry. I'm making this all about me.

But, listen, you can't let "nobody cares what I have to say" stop you from saying things. People DO care! I care! It MATTERS! Even if it's just one or two messages, it can make a difference. It won't always, but sometimes. I would encourage you to just...do what you can, when you can. That's all that can be done. We all have each other, at least, and every now and then we get a solid W. Like I said, I have pleasant conversations with people who I disagree with about on these things on a regular basis! Just today I got someone to realize how their post came off as exorsexist. That may be small, but it counts.

Just do what you can, anon. <3

Or whatever you think i would do.