#and an inability to be truly vulnerable with anyone else

[more-glitter-more-pizzazz]

I remember, I remember certain things What I was wearing, the yellow dashes in the street I prayed those lights would take me home Then I heard, "Hey, kid, get out of the road!"

Can't change what you've done Start fresh next semester

[lifeisbutadream444]

Playing Games

Aaron Pierre x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: A passionate yet complicated friends-with-benefits arrangement unravels as you finally confront Aaron about his inability to commit.

Warnings: 18+, smut, edging, overstimulation, p in v, bdsm themes

A/N: First thing I've ever posted, mostly porn with a crumb of plot.

The hotel suite is dimly lit, city lights flickering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your skin is still warm, the sheets tangled around your legs, the scent of him lingering in the air. Aaron lies beside you, bare-chested, arm draped lazily across his forehead, his breathing steady but not quite asleep.

"You good?" His voice is rough, sleep-laced, breaking the silence.

You hesitate. "Yeah."

He turns his head, studying you. "Liar."

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you're about to say. " I don't think we should do this anymore."

Aaron's brow furrows slightly at your words, his striking blue-grey eyes searching your face. He props himself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping dangerously low on his hips.

"Hey now, what's all this about?" His deep voice is soft, almost concerned, but there's an undercurrent of tension. 

"Talk to me, sweetheart." He reaches out, fingers brushing along your arm, touch feather-light. It's a gesture meant to soothe, but you sense the calculation behind it. Aaron is always aware, always assessing.

"I thought we had something good going here. No strings, no bullshit." A slow smirk curves his full lips. "Or am I mistaken?"

You sigh. "I need to focus on finding someone to build an actual future with Aaron. We’ve been doing this for over a year. I obviously love fucking you, but watching you constantly flirt with other women at every event, seeing them leave your apartment at 3:00 am on TMZ, it gets old after a while."

Aaron's hand stills on your arm, his expression shifting - surprise, then a flash of something harder to read. He sits up fully, running a hand over his face. "Shit..." He sighs, the sound heavy in the quiet room. "I didn't realize it was bothering you that much. I've always been straight up about... my preferences."

His gaze finds yours, intense and searching. "But I get it. You're looking for more than just a good time these days." There's a note of understanding in his tone, but also regret.

He reaches for you, cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. "I care about you, you know. More than just as a friend with benefits or whatever we are. But I'm not sure I'm built for that whole 'forever' thing yet."

"I understand Aaron, I really do." I sit up too, pulling the sheet around myself like armor. My heart aches but I force myself to hold his gaze steadily. This is important. I need him to truly hear me.

"I want to respect your boundaries and your current lifestyle. But I also need to respect my own needs and desires. And right now, those are leading me in a different direction. I hope we can still be friends though."

Aaron's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he listens to your words. When you finish speaking, he's silent for a long moment, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, slowly, he shakes his head.

"You say you need to find someone to build a future with, but baby, look at what we have." His other hand slides from your cheek to tangle in your hair, tilting your face up towards his. "The chemistry between us is off the charts. I make you feel things no one else ever could."

“How would I know if I don’t even try?” you say, voice steady. “I haven’t been with anyone else since we started whatever this is.”

Aaron's eyes flash with anger and hurt at your flippant words. His grip on your hip tightens, fingers digging into soft flesh. "Don't fucking joke about that," he snarls, voice rough with emotion. “You're not like me. You're better than that shallow shit."

He looms over you, naked and powerful, muscles coiled with tension. But there's a vulnerability in his gaze, a crack in his usual confident facade. "Is that what you really want? To be just another notch in someone's bedpost? Because I can tell you from experience, it's a lonely fucking road."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, touch almost tender despite the intensity smoldering in his eyes. "We can’t end things like this. Let me show you how good we can be together, outside the bedroom too."

You pull back slightly, meeting his intense gaze steadily, your own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Aaron, please... don't make this harder than it already is.” Your voice wavers slightly but you push on. "I appreciate everything you're saying, I do. But I can't keep settling for less than what I truly want and need."

I place my hand over his on my hip, squeezing gently. "We have an incredible physical connection, yes. But I need more. I need a partner, someone to build a life with. Someone who chooses me completely and exclusively."

A single tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you continue. "As much as it hurts, I have to accept that person isn't you. We’ve been doing this for over a year now, and that would definitely be enough time to know if I’m worth that commitment. In your eyes, I’m obviously not considering you’re still fucking other women every week."

Aaron's eyes blaze with a storm of emotions - fear, anger, desperation, and beneath it all, a flicker of something deeper, more vulnerable. As the tear traces down your cheek, his expression crumples.

"Fuck, baby, don't cry," he rasps, voice thick with feeling. His hands move to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the moisture. "You are worth it. You're worth everything." He takes a shuddering breath, clearly struggling with his next words. 

"I know I haven't shown it well, but fuck, you mean more to me than anyone else. Than all the other women combined." Aaron's forehead comes to rest against yours. "I'm scared, okay? Scared of fucking this up, of losing you completely."

You sigh, "I think that if you were really scared of losing me we would’ve progressed into something more by now. Surely you didn't think I was just gonna be your fuck buddy forever, right?"

Aaron pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that steals your breath. "You're right. I should have done something sooner." He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. 

"But I'm done being afraid. Done letting my own bullshit fears push away the person who matters most. Losing you is a lot scarier." One hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb stroking softly as he continues.

"Baby, I... I love you. Have for a while now. And I know I don't deserve you, but I'm asking anyway - give me a chance to be the man you need."

You stare at him in shock, hardly daring to breathe. Those three little words hang in the air between us, heavy with promise and possibility.

"You... you love me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, trembling with a fragile hope. "Really?"

Tears well up again, but this time they're tinged with joy rather than sorrow.

 "I love you too, Aaron. So much it scares me sometimes. But I know you too well. You love women. You love attention. You hate commitment. I feel like you’re only saying this as a last resort because you think it’s what I want to hear.”

You start removing the sheets from your body, moving to get up from the bed. Aaron's eyes widen in panic as you start to rise, his grip on your shoulders tightening. 

"No, wait! Don't go, please." Desperation colors his deep voice. He shifts, using his body weight to gently but firmly press you back onto the mattress. His gaze bores into yours, blue-grey eyes blazing with sincerity and barely restrained emotion. 

"I'm saying this because it's true, because I can't bear the thought of you walking out that door and out of my life." One hand moves to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds you close. 

"I know I have a reputation, and I can't change my past. But I want to change my future. With you."

Aaron's heart clenches painfully as he sees the tears streaming down your face, hears the hitch in your breath as you try to pull away. He knows he's caused this pain, this doubt, and the realization guts him.

"Shh, baby, please don't cry," he murmurs, voice raw with emotion. Gently but insistently, he keeps you in place, one strong arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand cups your face, thumbs wiping away the tears.

"I know I have to prove myself to you. And I will, every fucking day if that's what it takes." His eyes search yours, pleading and determined. 

"Give me a chance to show you how serious I am. Stay with me tonight, talk to me in the morning. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust, your heart."

"It's just too late Aaron,” you reply through your tears. “It kills me, but I have to go."

Aaron's expression darkens, a flash of possessiveness and desperation in his eyes as he tightens his arms around you, holding you in place on the bed. 

"No, you don't have to go anywhere," he says, his voice low and insistent. “Not like this, not when we're finally being honest with each other. He shifts, hovering over you, using his larger frame to pin you gently but firmly to the mattress. One hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck.

"I know I've fucked up, that I've made mistakes. But I'm trying to make this right, baby. Can't you see that?" His eyes bore into yours, blue-grey irises swirling with emotion. "Don’t leave me, please."

Inside, your heart pounds—he’s finally refusing to let you go. But you keep up the act, teasing the edge of goodbye, waiting to see if he’ll chase you, if he’ll prove just how much he cares.

"Sweetheart, stop fighting this," he growls, the words rumbling through his chest and into yours. 

"I'm not letting you leave until you understand how much you mean to me." One large hand splays across your lower back, holding you flush against him while the other tangles in your hair, tugging your head back slightly to expose the column of your throat. Aaron dips his head, lips brushing the sensitive skin there as he speaks.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep you here, to show you that you're the only woman I want, the only one I need." His lips graze your pulse point. "Tell me you'll stay."

You whimper softly, your body betraying you as it melts into his touch despite my resolve to leave. The heat of his skin, the strength of his embrace, the desperate need in his voice - it's all so overwhelmingly tempting.

"A-Aaron... you breathe, voice shaky. I want to believe you, I do. But I'm scared. Scared that this is just an empty promise, that you'll go back to your old ways as soon as I give in." Even as you speak, your hands come up to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat.

"How do I know this is real? That you're not just saying these things to get me to stay the night?"

Aaron's eyes flash with determination and raw, unfiltered emotion. He leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours as he speaks, voice low and fervent.

"It's real, baby. Every word, every feeling. I may not have said it before, but I've loved you for so long." His hand in your hair gentles, fingers combing through the strands almost reverently. 

"I know I have a lot to prove, that actions will always speak louder than words. But I'm ready to put in the work, to be the man you deserve." He pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze head-on.

Your voice shakes, a mix of anger and something more painful. “How can you say you love me while you’ve been out fucking other women constantly? I haven’t even been able to think about anyone else since I’ve met you. I know we're not in a committee relationship and you have every right to sleep with whoever you want. I do appreciate you always being honest about it, but that definitely doesn't feel like love to me. ”

Aaron's expression contorts with guilt and frustration at your accusation. He shakes his head vehemently, dark hair falling into his eyes. 

"No, baby, it's not like that at all." His grip on you loosens slightly, but he doesn't release you entirely, as if afraid you'll slip away. 

"Those other women, they meant nothing. They were a distraction, a way to avoid facing my feelings for you.” He takes a shuddering breath, eyes pleading. “Please give me a chance to make this right. "

You wipe tears from your face. "Let me go, Aaron."

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he slowly releases his grip on you. His hands fall away from your body as he sits back on his heels, giving you space even as his eyes remain fixed on your face, drinking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

"If that's truly what you want, then... I won't stop you," he says quietly, voice rough with emotion. "But please know that I meant every word I said. I love you, and I'm going to spend every day proving it to you, whether you're here with me or not."

You tell yourself you have to leave. That if you don’t walk away now, he’ll never take you seriously, never realize what he stands to lose. You want him to fight for you, to prove that this is more than just convenience, more than just a game he always wins.

As you move to leave, Aaron leaps up from the bed, his tall, muscular form blocking your path to the door.

"Baby, wait!" he calls out, voice cracking with urgency. In two quick strides, he's in front of you, one hand coming up to grasp your wrist gently but imploringly. 

His grip on your wrist tightens fractionally as he pulls you a step closer, using his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing away the remnants of your tears.

Aaron captures your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his pent-up passion and desperation into the heated caress. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you, as his strong arms wrap around your waist to lift you effortlessly as you wrap your legs around his waist instinctually. In a few swift strides, he carries you back to the bed, laying you down on the rumpled sheets.

He looms over you, eyes dark with lust and determination. "I'm gonna remind you exactly why you belong with me." His hands make quick work of your clothes, tossing them aside carelessly as he exposes your skin to his hungry gaze. Calloused fingertips trace the curves of your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Aaron settles between your thighs, pushing them apart to grant himself unrestricted access to your most intimate area. He inhales deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent before diving in, his skilled tongue delving between your folds to lap at your essence.

"Mmm, you taste divine," he rumbles against your flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. He focuses his attention on your sensitive clit, circling and flicking the bundle of nerves with practiced precision.

As your moans fill the room, he reaches for the vibrator you kept in his nightstand, turning it on to a low hum. "Let's see how many times I can make you come undone," he purrs wickedly, dragging the toy along your slit teasingly before pressing it firmly against your aching clit.

Aaron works you relentlessly with his mouth and the vibrator, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy. Just as you teeter on the cusp of climax, he pulls back, denying you that final push.

"Not yet, baby," he murmurs, voice husky with desire. "You don't get to come until you say you’re mine. Until you promise to give us a real chance."

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts, suckling and teasing your nipples until you're writhing beneath him. His hard length throbs against your thigh, a testament to his own arousal, but he ignores it in favor of focusing solely on your pleasure... and your compliance.

"I can do this all night, sweetheart," he warns playfully, nipping at your earlobe.

You’re trembling, your body wound tighter than a bowstring, desperate for release. I look up at Aaron, his handsome face blurry through the haze of lust.

"P-please, Aaron," I whimper brokenly, hips bucking futilely against the cool air. "I can't... I need... Fuck!"

He grins wickedly, clearly reveling in the power he holds over you. "What was that, baby? I didn't quite catch what you said." He circles your clit with the vibrator, applying just enough pressure to keep you teetering on the knife's edge of orgasm.

Aaron drinks in the sight of you, sprawled out beneath him, trembling and desperate, your tear-streaked face a beautiful portrait of need. He feels a surge of masculine pride, mixed with genuine tenderness, at the effect he has on you.

"That's it, sweetheart," he croons, voice a low, seductive rumble. "Just say the words. Tell me you'll stay, that you're mine, and I'll give you everything you crave."

He increases the pressure of the vibrator, holding it steady against your throbbing clit as his free hand slides down to tease your entrance. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust and challenge. "I can feel how badly you need this, how much you need me. Don't fight it anymore, baby. I’m tired of arguing with you.”

Aaron’s frustration mounts as you continue to resist despite your obvious desperation.

"You're so stubborn, baby girl," he growls, equal parts exasperated and aroused. "But I'm more determined than you are. I'll keep you right on this edge until you surrender to me completely."

To emphasize his point, he suddenly plunges two fingers knuckle-deep into your soaked channel, curling them just right to stroke that special spot inside you.

At the same time, he sucks hard on your clit, the dual stimulation threatening to overwhelm you. "Last chance, sweetheart," he pants against your flesh, eyes glinting with challenge and dark promise.

"Or what?" you challenge. Your body is on fire, but you’re not giving him what he wants so quickly.

Aaron's eyes flash dangerously at your defiant question, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He withdraws his fingers from your aching core, ignoring your whimper of protest, and flips you onto your stomach with ease.

"Oh, baby girl," he purrs darkly, draping his larger frame over your back, caging you in with his arms. "If you keep testing me like this, I might just have to punish that sweet little ass of yours."

One large hand slides down to grope your rear roughly, kneading the supple flesh. The other tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his.

You gasp and moan as he manhandles you, your body responding eagerly to his dominant touch despite your lingering resistance. The threat of punishment sends a forbidden thrill racing down your spine, even as a part of me rebels against being so thoroughly conquered.

"P-punish me?" You manage to stammer out between shaky breaths, trying to inject bravado into your voice that you don't quite feel. 

"And what exactly did you have in mind, big boy?" You arch your back slightly, pressing your ass more firmly into his groping hand, torn between the desire to submit and the need to maintain some semblance of control. Your inner walls flutter weakly, still aching for the fulfillment only he can provide.

"Mmm, such a naughty girl, taunting me like this," he murmurs approvingly. "I think I'll start by turning this pretty pink ass a nice, deep red. Maybe that will get your attention..."

To punctuate his words, he delivers a firm spank to your right cheek, the sting quickly melting into warmth. His palm rubs the abused skin soothingly before repeating the action on the left side. All the while, he rocks his clothed erection against the cleft of your ass, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal. "And if that doesn't convince you to behave..."

Aaron leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "Then I might have to tie you up, spread you wide open, and tease this needy little body of yours for hours. Keep you right on the razor's edge, begging so sweetly for release, until you're ready to agree to anything just to cum."

His hand snakes around to your front, fingers dipping teasingly through your slick folds. "Would you like that, baby girl? Being completely at my mercy, helpless to do anything but feel?"

You shudder and moan, your body following your true desires even as your mind struggles to hold onto its reservations. The spanks send jolts of painful pleasure radiating through you, stoking the flames of your arousal.

"Ahh...f-fuck, Aaron..." you pant, your voice thick with need. "You can't...can't just...ah!" Another spank cuts off your weak protests, the sensation making your toes curl. The image he paints - of being tied up, spread out, and teased mercilessly - sends a bolt of liquid heat straight to your core. "Yes I want that." you admit.

Aaron smiles triumphantly as he hears the breathy admission fall from your lips, your body's reactions telling him everything he needs to know.

"That's my good girl," he praises huskily, rubbing your ass. "Admitting what you really want. And we both know what that is, don't we, sweetheart?"

True to his word, Aaron secures your wrists above your head with soft ropes, the silky material a delicious contrast to your sensitized skin. He takes a moment to admire the view - you, splayed out and vulnerable, flushed with arousal and anticipation. His eyes rake over your body hungrily, drinking in every dip and curve.

Aaron starts with feather-light touches, tracing the delicate folds of your labia with the tip of his tongue. He laves at your slit, savoring your unique flavor, before zeroing in on your aching clit. A single, purposeful flick of his tongue against the sensitive bud has you keening, your back arching off the bed.

"Mmm, so sensitive," he murmurs appreciatively, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. "I could make you cum just like this, couldn't I? With barely any effort at all."

To prove his point, he seals his lips around your clit and suckles gently, alternating with quick, pointed flicks of his tongue. Two fingers plunge deep into your weeping channel, curling to stroke that special spot inside you.

Aaron works you over with single-minded focus, determined to push you to the brink of ecstasy again and again. He varies his technique, switching between broad licks and targeted flicks, alternating suction and pressure on your clit. His fingers pump steadily, twisting and curling, finding new angles to stimulate your innermost depths.

Your thighs tremble and quake around his head as he feasts on you, the obscene sounds of your arousal filling the room. He can feel you tightening around his invading digits, your body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

Just as you teeter on the very edge, he pulls back, denying you that final push. "Not yet, baby, he admonishes playfully, blowing cool air over your drenched folds. You haven't agreed yet."

You writhe and moan, tears of frustration leaking from the corners of your eyes as Aaron edges you relentlessly once again. Your body is wound so tightly, every nerve ending screaming for release, but he denies you again and again, keeping you balanced precariously on the knife's edge of climax.

"Please, Aaron!" you beg, voice raw with need. "I can't.... Ahhh!" Your words dissolve into incoherent cries as he suckles particularly hard on your clit, the pleasure bordering on pain. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" You tug desperately at her bonds, craving something, anything to ground yourself. But there's no escape from the exquisite torture he's inflicting.

Aaron notices your continued resistance, even as your body screams for release. A wicked gleam enters his eye as an idea takes shape. He reaches into the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a sleek black anal plug and a small, soft-bristled brush.

"Let's see how long this stubborn streak of yours lasts, baby girl," he purrs, voice dripping with dark promise. Without warning, he presses the tapered tip of the small plug against your tightly furled rosebud, applying gentle but insistent pressure.

The cool metal contrasts deliciously with the scorching heat of your skin as he slowly works the toy deeper, pausing to let you adjust. Once seated fully, he gives a subtle wiggle, sending sparks of new sensation radiating through your core.

You gasp as the foreign object invades your ass, the stretch and fullness sending shockwaves of sensation through her body. You feel impossibly empty and aching, yet stuffed so deliciously full at the same time. The anal plug shifts with every movement, keeping you hyperaware and on edge.

"Aaahh! Aaron!" you cry out, back arching off the bed as he wiggles the toy teasingly. Tears of overwhelming stimulation prick at the corners of her eyes. "It's too much, I can't-" But your protests are cut short as he dives back between your thighs, that wicked tongue of his lashing at your swollen, throbbing clit again.

He laps at your clit with broad, flat strokes of his tongue, reveling in how sensitive and responsive you've become. The addition of the anal plug seems to heighten every touch exponentially.

He picks up the small, soft-bristled brush, the fluffy head barely an inch wide. Teasingly, he runs the delicate bristles along your slit, catching on your engorged clit with each pass. The light, tickling sensation is maddening, keeping you poised on the knife's edge of orgasm without allowing you to topple over.

You're practically sobbing with need now. Every brush of the soft bristles against your aching clit sends lightning bolts of pleasure zinging up your spine. Combined with the constant pressure and stretch of the anal plug, you feel like you might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

"P-please, Aaron," you whimper brokenly, voice hoarse from crying out. "I can't... I need... Fuck, I need to cum so badly!" Tears stream freely down your face now, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations consuming her.

Aaron pauses his torment, lifting his head to take in the sight of you - tear-streaked face contorted in agonized bliss, chest heaving with ragged breaths, muscles pulled taut as a bowstring. He drinks in your desperation like fine wine, relishing the power he holds over you.

"Shhh, I know, sweetheart," he croons, voice low and soothing despite the wicked glint in his eyes. "I can see how much you need it. How close you are. But you know what you have to do to earn that release."

He leans in, hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "Tell me you're mine, baby. Give yourself to me completely, and I'll let you cum harder than you ever have before. Keep fighting it, and I'll leave you like this, aching and unfulfilled."

Aaron watches your anguished pleas with a mixture of dark satisfaction and growing impatience, shocked that you haven’t used your safe word yet. He can see the war raging within you - the desperate need for completion battling against your stubborn refusal to surrender completely. It's a delicious sight, but he's tired of these games.

"Enough," he says sharply, voice brooking no argument. In one swift motion, he flips you onto your stomach, the sudden change in position making the plug shift inside you deliciously. He drapes himself over your back, one large hand splaying across your shoulder blades to pin you down. His other hand snakes around to your front, fingers delving between your legs to circle your clit with ruthless precision.

"Listen closely, baby," he growls in your ear, hips grinding against your ass. "This is your last chance."

Your body suddenly seizes with the force of a life changing orgasm, Aaron curses under his breath, equal parts frustrated and impressed by your lack of control. He doesn't let up his ministrations, fingers continuing their merciless assault on your clit as you thrash beneath him, lost to the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Didn't I tell you not to cum without permission?" he growls, voice thick with disapproval even as he grinds against your spasming body, prolonging your peak.

"Such a naughty girl, disobeying me like that." Despite his stern words, there's a note of dark satisfaction in his tone. Your loss of control is a testament to how thoroughly he's unraveled you, brought you to the brink of madness with desire.

Your body trembles and jerks as the aftershocks of her climax roll through you, leaving you boneless and spent. You've never felt so utterly owned, so completely at someone else's mercy.

"I'm sorry," you whimper. "I couldn't help it." Even in the aftermath of your orgasm, your body aches for more, craving his touch like a drug. The anal plug shifts inside you with every shuddering breath, keeping you acutely aware of your own arousal. You've never felt so desperate, so willing to submit to another person's every whim.

Aaron's expression softens slightly at the genuine remorse in your voice, though the hunger in his eyes remains undiminished. He gentles his touch, fingers slowing their frenzied pace to languid circles around your still-throbbing clit. His other hand slides up to cup your cheek and tilt your face towards his.

"Shh, it's alright, baby," he murmurs, voice a low, soothing rumble. "I know it was too much to resist. You did so well holding on for as long as you did." He captures your lips in a deep, claiming kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans. He flips you on your back again, his gaze is intense, boring into yours with smoldering intent.

Aaron's eyes flash with sadistic glee as he reaches for the vibrator, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He knows exactly how to push you to your limits, to make you scream and beg and plead for mercy. And he intends to do just that.

"Since you seem to enjoy cumming without permission so much," he purrs, turning the toy to its highest setting, "I think it's time for round two of your punishment."

Without further preamble, he presses the buzzing head directly against your throbbing clit, holding it steady despite your bucking hips. The intense vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure-pain ricocheting through your oversensitized body, forcing a strangled moan from your throat.

Aaron watches with dark satisfaction as you writhe and convulse beneath the relentless assault of the vibrator, your body no longer your own. He can feel the tension building in your core, the way your walls flutter and clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill them.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, voice a low, seductive rumble. "Cum for me again. Show me how much you love being punished, how much you need my touch."

“I can’t, Aaron!” your scream. Aaron ignores your anguished pleas, keeping the vibrator pressed firmly against your abused clit. He revels in the sight of you, so beautifully broken, tears and sweat mingling on your flushed skin as you fall apart in his arms once again.

Even after another orgasm, he doesn’t relent, keeping the vibratior on your swollen clit no matter how hard you buck your hips to avoid it.

"Shh, just breathe through it, baby," he croons, voice deceptively gentle even as he continues the torturous stimulation. "You're doing so well, taking your punishment like a good girl."

His free hand strokes down your trembling thigh, almost tenderly, a stark contrast to the brutal pleasure he's inflicting. Suddenly, he stops the vibrator.

"Ready for more, sweetheart?" he purrs dangerously, eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

“No, I can’t take anymore, please.” you reply, your voice raspy from screaming.

Aaron hilts himself inside you with one powerful thrust, groaning at the exquisite tightness enveloping him. He sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours as he pounds into your sensitive flesh. Each drag of his cock against your inner walls sends sparks of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine.

"Is this what you wanted, baby?" he growls, leaning down to nip at your earlobe." To have Daddy's big, fat cock all to yourself? To be the only one I fuck, the only one I give attention to?"

One hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the column of your throat. He latches onto the delicate skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, to brand you as his. The other hand grips your hip bruisingly tight, holding you in place as he rails into you.

You whimper and moan, overwhelmed by the intense sensations "Y-yes, yes, I want you all to myself!" your nails dig into his back, clinging to him desperately as he claims you thoroughly, chasing his own release.

"Okay baby," he whispers, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts. "I'm not gonna fuck anyone else again. Only you, okay?" He grinds against your cervix with each snap of his hips, determined to stake his claim on your very soul. His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he pants harshly.

"I’m serious Aaron... I can't take anymore!" Your hands fist in the sheets, knuckles white with the force of her grip. The anal plug shifts with each movement, adding to the cacophony of sensations assaulting your nerves.

"That's it, baby," he encourages darkly as he pounds into you relentlessly. "Let me hear those pretty sounds. Cry for me, beg for me. Show me how much you need me."

"Please," you rasp, voice little more than a broken whisper. "Please, Aaron. I... I won't leave you. I'm yours, okay?" The words fall from your lips like a prayer, a desperate supplication.

In that moment, you know you'd agree to anything, give him anything, if only he'd put an end to this sweet torture. Your pride, your stubbornness, all the walls you've built around her heart - they crumble to dust in the face of her all-consuming desire.

Aaron slows his thrusts, grinding deep inside you as he gazes down at your face intently. His eyes bore into yours, dark with possession and barely restrained lust.

"If you want to come one last time," he says, voice a low, dangerous purr, "tell me you love me. Tell me you'll never even think about leaving me again." He rolls his hips deliberately, stirring up your insides. "Tell me."

Shaking, you finally say, "I-I love you, Aaron. God, I love you so much. I'll never leave you, never threaten to go. Please, please let me come!"

"Those are the magic words, baby," he growls in satisfaction, eyes flashing with triumph and dark desire. "Come for me then. Now." With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, grinding against your cervix as his fingers attack your clit.

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your screams of ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. He follows you over the edge moments later, flooding your spasming pussy with his hot seed, marking you as his inside and out.

Collapsing against the sheets, utterly spent and satisfied, "Wow, I think that was your best work yet. I need time to recover." you say, panting between words.

He chuckles lowly, nuzzling into your neck as he pulls you close, still buried deep inside you. "Mmm, I aim to please, sweetheart.”

He presses soft kisses along your jaw, your cheek, finally capturing your lips in a tender, loving kiss unlike any before. He unties your hands gently.

When he pulls back, his eyes are warm with genuine affection. "I meant what I said, you know. About not seeing other women anymore. I can't believe you thought I was just gonna let you walk away."

Aaron’s forehead rests against yours, his breath unsteady, his grip unrelenting—like if he lets go, you’ll disappear. His hands tremble slightly where they hold you, his fingers pressing into your skin as if to memorize the shape of you.

He leans in, his voice a hushed whisper against your lips. “Go to sleep, baby.”

And just like that, the fight is over.

Because you were never going anywhere.

[deathbxnny]

Hi I just wanted to say I loved the arcane adhd headcannons u wrote, the viktor one made me cry bc I want to be seen like that sooo bad. Do u think u could do some more characters? No pressure tho ur an amazing writer

Arcane characters with an S/o who has ADHD. | Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Aww, I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the last part, anon! I hope this is to your liking as well!<33

Content: Fluff, ADHD, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAITLYN

She noticed from the start that you were a little different from everyone else. Not that she necessarily cared much about it. You were still you after all, and your diagnosis is just a part of you she considers endearing.

With that said, Caitlyn always listens to your needs very closely and does everything in her power to help you out with them. She'll get you anything you ask for in hopes of making life easier for you. Whether it's medical help or just something to help with your fidgeting in general, you'll have it in no time with her.

Cait can, therefore, come off as kind of overbearing or overprotective at first. She wants you to lead a smooth and successful life, so she'll always be around to make any task doable for you. Procrastination does not exist when she's there, to say the least.

Her patience is an important part of your relationship that's practically invaluable. Your fidgety and unfocused nature took a moment for her to get used to, but she never makes a big deal out of it. Instead, she simply adapts to your needs and learns to cherish them as well.

》JINX

Probably the most understanding out of everyone, albeit in the most chaotic way possible. You two are a rather troubling duo, as she herself isn't in the best position to help you out properly. Her ideas are always outlandish yet somehow still work out in the end anyways, which is rather impressive.

You're both very fidgety, but she makes up for it with her hyper awareness. Procrastination is never a thing with her, considering how focused she always is on every project she has and so it becomes somewhat of a normal thing for you to simply work in the same space together, even if it's with just music playing in the background in-between you two.

She's the last person to ever treat you any differently for your diagnosis and doesn't ever let you feel bad for it either. You accept her, and she accepts you. Anyone that tries shaming you for it is as good as dead anyway.

You two learn how to take care of each other better than anyone else ever could. Jinx may not be able to help you out like a professional doctor could, but she'll do anything to help you out no matter what forever.

》EKKO

He doesn't entirely get it at first, mainly as he was always surrounded by people who were rather unique in their own way. But as always with anything, he still does his best to learn everything he needs to about your diagnosis and how he can help you with the resources he has. Which aren't many, but his creativity truly shines at times when it comes to you.

You're not treated any differently from everyone else, and he sure as hell doesn't allow anyone to do that either. You are normal, just with more needs that he tends to carefully. So whether it's your inability to focus well or stay still for a long time, he'll find a way to make things easier. He understands your procrastination and doesn't really push you to do things unless it's very important. But he'll work with you on any projects or missions you may have.

His patience is endless for you and his kindness even more so. He understands if you feel frustrated sometimes and tries his best to soothe you when your emotions are a little harder to process. He'll let you fidget and be yourself as much as you want to, never the type to stop you. You should be yourself around him, and he appreciates how vulnerable you are with that.

Ekko loves you no matter how hard things can get with your diagnosis. He takes every challenge on with ease and never judges you for it either.

[randobsdanalyst]

What makes Soukoku Soukoku? A long analysis

Thread on Twitter: https://x.com/RandoBSDAnalyst/status/1770598183132967067

There have been many ways the word Soukoku (双黒) has been translated from the Japanese, such as "Double Black," "Twin Dark," and "Twin Darkness." As the translations imply, all the generations of Soukoku are very heavily tied together by a certain darkness they share. Soukoku, especially, have a very fascinating yin-yang relationship that is crucial to understanding how they work together so perfectly despite their differences.

In the pop-culture sense of yin-yang very simply being opposites but similar, Soukoku fits the idea perfectly. Dazai and Chuuya experienced so much of the same things as teenagers but in slightly different ways: having their childhoods robbed from them and growing up way too fast in an environment unsuitable for their age, struggling with humanity, feeling alienated and lonely, being betrayed and losing the people they cared about, and just simply not ever being able to be like anyone else do to the pain they went through and their inability to be truly vulnerable in the normal sense anymore. Their shared experiences and desire for humanity connect them.

They are thus both isolated in different ways, and it is this that allows them to reflect and complete each other. Even their responses to the deaths of those they cared about (and the resulting heartbreaking realization that these people had been their friends the entire time) in Stormbringer and Dark Era are meant to emphasize their similar but contradictory natures. Chuuya, who is generally so emotional, hid his emotional reactions and lied during the death of the Flags so that Albatross would die in peace and only showed emotion afterwards, while Dazai, who is generally calm and driven by logic, acted rather emotionally during Oda’s death and visibly showed his distress. There’s also many other ways in which they are shown to mirror each other that lie more in their mentalities.

They both are also described as feeling undeserving of goodness in their lives, and they believe themselves to be unworthy of their hearts. This was a result of their views towards their own humanity and their alienation from others, which mirror each other in that they are extrinsically driven for Chuuya (due to his ability and strength) and intrinsically driven for Dazai (due to his emptiness and coping mechanisms), and it quickly led them to become self-sacrificial in ways that are similar yet different, with Dazai doing so as a form of self-harm and out of necessity (as he believed that things didn’t affect him), while Chuuya does so out of his need to always protect others using his ability and his self-deprecation. Dazai thus never even considered that he had the possibility of leaving until Oda died and still shuts down when someone compliments or points out any good in something he did, while Chuuya similarly had fought against Detective Murase’s wishes to save himself from the mafia. Neither of them believed that they were human enough to be meant for the light. Even the way they both do physics problems in their heads and have a habit of humming when happy can be thought of as small ways in which they are similar and in sync with one another.

In the more traditional sense of yin and yang, Dazai is very clearly yin: dark, calm, soft, passive, wavering, cold, death, winter, the Moon. Chuuya, on the other hand, is yang: bright, active, loud, direct, warm, life, summer, the Sun. However, just as Daoism states that there will always be yang found in yin and yin found in yang, Dazai and Chuuya have some traits of yang and yin, respectively. Dazai’s logical way of thinking, the harshness of how cold he can be at times, and the loudness of the way he pretends to feel is more yang (even though his true emotions are deeper and softer and more vulnerable), and between the two, Dazai is the one that found himself in the light. Chuuya still lives —and found a home — in the side of the dark, and his tendency to introspect and the certain depth and sentiment to the emotions Chuuya feels is more yin. Dazai could be thought of as the Moon attempting to be the Sun, and Chuuya could be thought of as the Sun eclipsed by the darkness of the Mafia. There is a bit of light that lies within Dazai’s darkness, and a darkness that lies within Chuuya’s light. Thus their partnership lies not in their opposite personalities, but the threads that tie them together as a result of their views regarding humanity and themselves.

This is made incredibly clear in Stormbringer, where several scenes are designed to show their compatibility as partners, to the point where Chuuya even hallucinated Dazai taunting him about their similarities when he was drugged in Stormbringer.

But as Chuuya slowly began to see the human inside the Demon Prodigy and gradually became the one person who could predict Dazai’s motives (while Dazai, a brilliant strategist, could never predict Chuuya), he also began to understand that these similarities are what allow Dazai to understand him more than anyone ever had. The similarities were never a burden, but instead boons that allowed them to find humanity in each other and learn to read each other’s souls.

We don’t know much about their bond after Stormbringer and the Dragon’s Head conflict, but we do know these two moments were not the true beginnings of their partnership as Soukoku, indicating that their partnership grew even further with time and was made official afterwards.

There is so much lore and history to unpack between the two of them despite all that we know about their partnership. Remember that they still have three year's worth of history we have no idea about, history that is undeniably rich and eventful.

What we do know is that after all they have experienced together and learned from each other because of the ties they share, their bond and trust are simply more than anything that could be described using labels and norms (they are the perfect example of relationship anarchy). After so many years, they truly know each other by heart and by soul despite their constant disagreements, something that Dazai so often proudly proclaims, and they are both exactly what the other needs. They are always there to affirm each other’s humanity, and their words and actions always provide what the other requires in ways that may not make sense to the typical person but makes perfect sense in the context of their relationship and personalities.

They have never needed to explicitly express the way they care and feel vulnerable around each other and to put words to the feelings they share, instead showing each other implicitly through the arcade games, the childish arguments, and the many times they protected each other. Instead of forcing themselves into a normalcy they know they wouldn’t ever fit into or be allowed to fit into because of their natures, they manage to reach each other through various means that resonate with and can be understood by just the two of them. They built their own kind of normalcy, their own messy language composed of the pain they share and the words that go unsaid during their childish bickering.

The scene where Chuuya punched Dazai and harshly told him off during the Dragon’s Head Conflict is a perfect example of that, reminding Dazai of his humanity in a way that Dazai could process instead of ignore or push away. Chuuya had learned to care deeply about Dazai, but he never let go of his detestation of the masks Dazai wore. He knew from what Dazai has done for him in Stormbringer that Dazai has the potential to be good and do good if only he lets himself accept he is a human with feelings that are affected by others and his own actions. So the anger and the harsh response to Dazai’s nonchalance in the scene, then, was less about Dazai acting like an asshole and more about Dazai acting like an asshole and not even seeming to understand that there was more to him behind the masks he constantly wore.

Another earlier example is Dazai carrying Chuuya to where the Flag member’s bodies were before leaving him alone to mourn their loss, and then allowing Chuuya to struggle on his own for a while (though part of it was not intentional and was him again pretending to be douchey). As much as Dazai tried to pass their intentions off as another twisted method of annoying Chuuya, even going so far as to claim that he was “intentionally late” to save Chuuya, it is clear that his basic, overarching plan was purely for Chuuya’s sake.

He wanted Chuuya to at least partially face his humanity and internalize the fact that he was indeed in charge of his own behavior, emotions, and outlook. Therefore, to show all this in a way Dazai knew Chuuya would accept instead of deny, as Chuuya has such horrible survivor’s guilt and used his near invulnerability in battle to force himself to continue fighting so that he could protect others and somehow prove to himself that he is human, he allowed Chuuya to fight and handle things on his own terms in the way he knew Chuuya could before saving him and giving him the ultimate choice in the end. And it was not that all of it was intentional (he surely felt some guilt regarding the torture, based on the fact that he let Chuuya punish him afterward) or that it was even the biggest reason why Chuuya changed his perspective over the course of Stormbringer, since it was mainly Adam and Verlaine that showed him that humanity wasn't just one's origins, but it's clear how much thought Dazai put into Chuuya's humanity.

It’s as if the two were practically born to read each other’s hearts and souls in certain aspects, even though they may not have a word-for-word understanding of the other’s specific thoughts and emotions. And as their bond deepened over time, so did their ability to connect. Chuuya is able to easily sense Dazai’s presence no matter where Dazai hides, and even when using Corruption, Chuuya is able to scream Dazai’s name and regains some of his humanity when close to Dazai or when Dazai calls out to him.

Dazai, in turn, is able to tell when Chuuya’s at his limit, and promptly finds ways to end the mission so that Chuuya can recover. So, when all is said and done, they don’t always need to say everything out loud, and words can be limiting anyway depending on the circumstances.

Sure so much is left murky in the pain they live in since their verbal communication is imperfect (especially outside of missions, as they both struggle so much with their more vulnerable emotions), and sure the arguments get notoriously painful, but they can trust that they will always be able to still find each other and understand one another despite the flaws and roughness. They don’t need perfection and labels, they just need them. In a world where attachments and the usual displays of vulnerability get you and others killed or worse, something which both Dazai and Chuuya experienced so painfully from very young ages and were shaped by, it is more than they could ask for from one another. They feel that they weren’t meant for anything too soft in the normal sense, anyway, and in either case, such affection would only make both of them less them.

That’s what makes their bond so powerful: it is built off an intrinsic and deep understanding between them that formed from the messiest parts of themselves that reflect each other — their twin darkness.

In one of the creator’s words, they are one soul in two bodies, the perfect twin flames. They may exchange harsh truths instead of soft love confessions, and they tend to focus more on their work and survival in order to keep each other and Yokohama safe, but it doesn’t mean that their feelings aren’t any less obvious and meaningful to one another. It’s the much smaller things, all these acts of service and their own forms of affection, that allow the absolutely incredible depth of their bond to best come through and make it possible for them to each come to terms with being so intimately connected to another person after everything they’ve already lost. They’re the one constant, the one bit of surprising stability, in each other’s lives in every possible universe, something that is so invaluable for two individuals who have lost so much. They not only have stood the test of time despite everything thrown at them, but also still allow themselves to share the same childish arguments and small moments of tenderness even after so many years.

Now, I feel that I must add that yes, Soukoku isn’t perfectly healthy in the way we would usually judge a relationship. But that is the point. It would be far unhealthier for them to be in normal relationships where things are more gentle and loving in the usual sense, because it’s not in either of their natures and would be ignoring the parts of themselves that are darker and make them themselves. They’d both be putting on masks for such a relationship to work, since they’d have to act like they can accept and reciprocate such gentleness and vulnerability, as while they can be gentle and vulnerable, it is never in the way it usually works. Dazai and Chuuya, on the other hand, actually acknowledge those parts in each other without encouraging those bad traits, and instead of forcing them to hide those parts or think of them as nothing but monstrous, they find humanity in the death, destruction, and all their flaws that resulted from the things they needed to do to survive. They give each other true, genuine acceptance and humanity where they would otherwise pretty much never have.

They also know very well that neither of them have any blueprint for what love and true belonging is supposed to be like, Dazai especially since Chuuya at least was able to find a "family" in the mafia and grew up under Kouyou where he was cared about and seen as human and approachable despite his moments of temper (but even then it’s not like Chuuya still felt completely understood). One of them uses the other as their will to live because that’s the best he can do in that regard (as in he would pretty much lose any will to live as soon as the other genuinely leaves and is why he’s possessive and why he so constantly thinks of Chuuya), somehow has MORE masks than people he’s lost and never felt as if he had his own genuine identity, doesn’t even process that he ought to have boundaries (forget about what those boundaries ought to be), is unable to process his emotions and feel vulnerable in the normal sense due to problems with trust and emotions, can’t handle being treated as an actual person, and desperately holds on to whatever allows him to feel human and partially treats him as such without going too far. The other also greatly struggles with his emotions, vulnerability, trust, and loss, and he also feels obligated to always protect others to his detriment because he can’t live with himself otherwise (which is why he can be possessive and overprotective — in the sense of “You are a part of me and I feel obligated to look after you and make sure I don’t end up seeing you hurt like everyone else I’ve cared about before you” — of those who show him care and/or humanity in some way, which is mostly just Dazai at this point, but also includes to a lesser extent the many people who work with him and under him in the Mafia, which is why they are so fond of him and greatly respect him as an Executive and why he had eight boxes of oracles requesting him to temporarily lead the Port Mafia during the Cannibalism arc) and has a lot of guilt and self-blame. Of course they are going to be messy.

But acknowledgment of that messiness is what matters and gives them that bit of humanity they don’t get to have otherwise, and they give each other what they need. They fight for each other’s humanity and let each other be themselves and not the people they’re expected to be, and Chuuya gives Dazai meaning to his life and makes him actually feel different emotions, while Dazai gives Chuuya a break from being obligated to protect others using his ability and strength, and having to always worry about not being able to protect someone in the first place. It’s always been Chuuya’s choice to protect Dazai and use Corruption, and even though he has to always save Dazai and while Dazai may certainly give him some grief from how dangerously self-destructive Dazai is and how little Dazai values his own life, he knows Dazai can handle himself during missions until he gets there and will then be able to pull through the rest with his constantly-evolving plans.

Related Songs: "A Little Death" and "Flawless" by the Neighborhood, "I'm Your Man" by Mitski, "Daylight" by David Kushner, "Rock Bottom" by Hailee Steinfeld, "In the Name of Love" by Bebe Rexa and Martin Garrix, "Young God" by Halsey, and "The Archer" by Taylor Swift

[sozzledjuja]

Mephisto & Praxina - A Relationship Analysis

Because part of me wishes that the twins' dynamic had been more explored in the show, while Mephisto was still "alive".

There are honestly so many scenes, especially in season 2, where you could feel the main underlying issues between them, but they were never actually adressed or explored.

Also, feel free to add your own thoughts, maybe stuff that I missed, or things you disagree with as well.

Let's start with this scene, from Cute As A Doll, which I'm surprised not more people are talking about:

So, Praxina gets hurt by Auriana's blast, and Mephisto immediately stops his chase for Iris to teleport next to his sister, to make sure she's alright.

Aaaaanddd- she yells at him for caring/worrying, telling him to just go after Iris.

LOOK AT HIS FACE BRO. Homeboy was truly worried, but then immediately gets back in the game.

It's easy to just look at the dismissive and "careless" way in which Praxina treats Mephisto most of the time, and rule her off as "heartless". However, this sentiment seems to also be present when HE tries to "connect" or worries about her.

We see this again in Forget You:

She sees attachments and emotions as a sign of weakness and vulnerability, and clearly doesn't allow herself to feel it and lashes out whenever her brother does.

This refusal to accept love and affection is usually born out of an inherent lack of trust in people. It comes from a place of fear. She seems to prefer to remain impartial and formal as much as possible, regardless of how much her brother (or anyone else, for the matter) wishes to get close to her.

When it comes to other people, I believe she simply doesn't trust that the gestures of affection are real/genuine.

Good!Praxina, in Forget You I believe, was less of a "possibly redeemed" Praxina and more of a "blank page" Praxina, as in, what she would've been like had none of the Gramorr or the other bad stuff happened.

Still, let's not forget that Good!Praxina still clearly had some concerning instincts, so some of her less pleasant characteristics like her destructive behavior, lack of empathy, difficulty accepting affection and praise, and connecting with people, were probably already there since the beggining.

Iris said it herself:

Remember, Good!Praxina still didn't like the idea of helping people when the girls first tried to teach her how to be a good person; Only AFTER being exposed to good influences did she actually begin to redirect her energy torwards "good" goals, and I think this proves that, in a different, more positive enviromnent, she would've definetly turned out differently.

But, alas- she didn't, so here I am, writing this big ass psychological assessment. Which is mostly her fault.

Also Mephisto clearly has some issues of his own when it comes to how his sister treats him (which, let's be honest, while I wouldn't call it abusive, she definetly isn't an easy person to care about).

Also the fact that she seems to think he's incapable of doing anything right definetly bothers him more than he lets on.

It's easy to laugh these moments off but there's definetly something much deeper going on.

Again

And again

And again. and this one was fucked up

And in many other times.

Oh- and the fact that she always blames him for everything. Which is another one of Praxina's biggest flaws: an inability to admit fault or take any sort of accountibility. Aaand shifting the blame.

Which he knows, and this is clearly something that he takes and takes, until he snaps.

This moment in If You Can't Beat Them was also really telling on how he actually feels about how his sister never actually shows any appreciation for his contributions, and seems to think he's weaker and less capable of reason as she is.

I genuinely do not know what goes through Praxina's brain to make her do this. I don't know wether she actually genuinely believes he's stupid and fucks everything up or not.

And Gramorr, although he doesn't outright show much preference for Praxina in spite of Mephisto, seems to share the sentiment, given that he appears to be slightly less patient/harsher towards him than his sister.

What I can say is that Praxina definetly believes that he is the weakest link between them (which might seem like it's true at first glance, but I wouldn't be so sure as to state it), which, given the previous statement, might also be a result of Gramorr himself thinking/saying it, since they've probably been training under his wing for quite a long time, which would make her (and Mephisto) easily influenced by his opinion, as an authority figure.

And he might pretend it doesn't effect him, but we all know that deep down it does, and that he's kinda insecure despite all his bravado.

I think Mephisto's always been more sensitive and more "emotionally-inclined" than his sister, even before Gramorr. I believe that both twins have the potential to be good, but Mephisto is definetly more "hardwired" for it than Praxina.

And we already know what she thinks about that: emotion=weakness.

And part of her wants to keep reminding him she's better too. The girl's got a big ego to stroke.

Mephisto also seems to have more morals than his sister.

We can see that throughout the show he's helped the princesses sometimes: Iris, with whom he teamed up with to save his sister in If You Can't Beat Them, in which he even told her he'd be honored to serve her as queen of Ephidea, had circunstances been different, which I truly believe he meant;

And Carissa, in Statue Game, who he ALSO teamed up with to save his sister, and who, let's not forget, he gave the other evil amulet back to, so that the princesses could reverse the spell that turned that human girl into stone.

And when Gramorr got the last gem, Mephisto seemed to actually be horrified by what was happenning.

He clearly wasn't totally fine with enslaving the entire planet.

Praxina, on the other hand, seemed pretty okay with it.

Ecstatic even.

She's relishing in what's happening, that's what she wants. To bend other to her will, to be feared rather than loved, to have power over others.

Maybe not what she needs, but what she WANTS.

Mephisto realizing that is GOLD from a storytelling prespective.

I feel like he looked at her in hopes she'd be as concerned as he was, that they were on the same page about the situation, only to find her- well, laughing. I joked about this being his "oh shit, these people are actually evil" moment, but I think part of him was only surprised with Praxina. Maybe he hadn't realized just how far this "lifestyle" had actually shaped his sister.

We know for sure that Mephisto has higher levels of empathy than Praxina. And common sense. This is why I always disagree when people say that Praxina is smarter than Mephisto. She might be more "logical" and "rational", but neither of those things equate to cleverness. Mephisto seems to be more astute and more intuitive.

Him starting to realize Gramorr was probably not gonna give them shit is a great example of this.

Which Praxina did NOT even think about. She was on a high, thinking about all the power they were gonna have now that Gramorr was free and back in action. Miss girl, you are delusional.

Honestly Praxina's fatal flaws deserve their own separate post.

Because let's be clear: I'm trying to debunk all of the twin's relationship issues, and everytime, it's clear who's actually responsible for everything going badly in the emotional realm.

I love her but she IS the problem. Not saying Mephisto is a poor innocent baby who never did anything wrong his whole life (I'm looking at you, lolirock fandom). He definetly has a lot of flaws and bad traits himself, but he's not the one to blame for anything regarding his and his sister's relationship.

To conclude,

THIS is normal sibling behaviour.

All the rest I showed above this SHOULD. NOT. BE.

This is not me saying they have a bad relationship, but I am saying that they don't have a fantastic one either.

Also, I blame dark magic too. The Team has confirmed it makes them more irritable, so there's that too.

They really care about each other, and I don't doubt that BOTH of them would do anything to keep the other safe. But they got lots of unspoken stuff to talk about.

And are both in desperate need of therapy

[xomaleyaxo]

Stolen Hearts → Blackpink 5th Member

Synopsis: As time passes and their hearts are forever stolen, they’re drawn deeper into an unbreakable love.

Part 2 to Stolen Glances

Wc: 2.3k

They say you have three loves in your life: the first love, which is intense and exciting, full of passion and youthful energy; the second love, which teaches you about heartbreak and the complexities of relationships; and the third love, which arrives unexpectedly, steady and enduring, and is said to be your true, lasting love. For Mirae, Mingyu was her third love, and everything she had heard about this kind of love was starting to ring true.

With Mingyu around, life seemed brighter, as if she had spent years in the shadows and now the sun had finally broken through. He was the kind of man she had been waiting for her entire life, someone she felt her father, if he were still here, would have loved for her. Deep down, she believed he was watching over her and had sent Mingyu her way. He was almost too good to be true, yet here he was, making her world feel complete.

Mirae had always longed for someone like her father, a kind soul, a musician, someone who gave everything for the people he loved. In Mingyu, she saw all those traits. She admired how he could connect with anyone instantly, forming a sense of comfort effortlessly. He was the kind of person who made everything better just by being there.

Initially, Mirae felt so different from him, her introverted nature clashing with his extroverted energy. However, over time, Mingyu’s openness began to rub off on her. He helped her break out of her shell and see life in a new light, while she grounded him, showing him the beauty of quiet, intimate moments. It felt as though they were puzzle pieces finally coming together, perfectly fitting for the first time.

Despite their differences, their similarities deepened their understanding of each other. Both had spent their youth chasing dreams, and now they were living them. They understood the devotion required to achieve their goals and how to support each other through their demanding careers. They knew when to prioritize their groups and fans but also when to remind each other to take a break and relax, finding balance in both their work and relationship.

As they spent more time together, Mirae realized she had never felt such ease before. It was as if they had been together for years, even though it had only been a short time. Mingyu saw her, truly saw her. Normally, this might have frightened her, but instead, he embraced every flaw and imperfection. He never made her feel like there was anything wrong with her, which made her feel validated.

Despite her efforts to seek help, Mirae carried a lot of baggage. These issues affected her daily life, accompanied by a nagging voice that told her no one deserved to deal with her struggles. She preferred to write out her feelings and leave them behind, a habit that negatively impacted her relationships since she struggled to express her emotions directly. Though she was working on it, Mingyu’s open expression of his feelings made her worry about her own inability to do the same.

Being an idol, she had an unrelenting drive for perfection. She pushed herself hard, always striving to meet impossible standards, as if achieving excellence could somehow make up for the absence of her father. The immense pressure she placed on herself stemmed from a desire to make him proud and live up to an ideal she had constructed.

She hated being vulnerable and crying in front of others, yet she was someone who cried easily, whether it was from seeing someone else in distress, frustration, or being yelled at. Her mind urged her to maintain a tough exterior, but her heart remained vulnerable, causing her eyes to betray her emotions.

One night after a cozy café date, she opened up to Mingyu about her fears and insecurities. He listened silently, deeply understanding the weight of what she was revealing. It was clear that opening up was a challenge for her, but he felt a profound sense of gratitude that she was willing to be vulnerable with him.

Mingyu didn’t care about her flaws; in fact, her imperfections only made him like her more. To him, her struggles were not obstacles but parts of her that he wanted to embrace completely. He was determined to support her through them, and when he conveyed this to her, it brought her a deep sense of safety and the realization that he was the one who could truly make her feel safe.

As summer was ending, their relationship grew serious very rapidly. Mirae, usually cautious about moving too quickly, felt herself drawing closer to the idea of love with Mingyu.

Their first kiss happened after their fourth date, inside his car as he dropped her off. The dim lighting, soft music from the radio, and the lingering warmth of their date created the perfect setting. As they sat there, sad their evening was ending, Mingyu leaned in slowly, his gaze locked with hers, asking a silent question. Mirae gave a gentle nod, and they shared a soft, sweet kiss.

When they pulled away, both were blushing, their smiles widening as they made eye contact and said goodbye. Mirae hadn’t expected to feel like a blushing teenager again, but the kiss with Mingyu reminded her of the excitement and giddiness of kissing someone for the first time. It was a small kiss, yet it left her yearning for more. As the days passed, they grew more comfortable with each other, and soon, they were in a committed relationship.

The changes in Mirae were noticeable to those closest to her. She seemed happier and brighter, a stark contrast to her past relationships where she kept everything private. Mingyu was different. She couldn’t stop talking about him, whether it was a sweet gesture he made or a funny moment they shared. He was a constant presence in her mind and conversations. Her friends and family often teased her about it, but they were genuinely happy for her. It was clear to everyone that she was smitten, and it was a rare and wonderful sight.

Mingyu was equally smitten, and his members playfully teased him about it. They’d play Blackpink songs, dance along, and sing her parts, which always made him blush and smile. He was thrilled to be with her after admiring her from afar for so long. Now that she was his, he took every opportunity to brag about her and praise her. While his members sometimes found his constant adoration a bit much, they were mainly just happy to see him so content.

Mirae wasn’t sure when she realized she loved Mingyu; it just happened naturally. She never pinpointed the exact moment, but somehow, she was the first to say “I love you.” One cozy night, she invited him over for dinner. As they sat quietly watching a movie, she felt an overwhelming sense of contentment and looked over at him.

He was gently petting her dog Luna, who had adored him from their very first meeting. Luna rested comfortably in his lap, while Mingyu’s arm stroked the dog, and his other arm was wrapped around Mirae’s waist, giving her soft circles.

Noticing her gaze, Mingyu looked back and smiled, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She returned his smile and leaned in to kiss him softly, making him giggle.

“What's up?” he asked.

“Mhmmm, nothing,” she replied softly, leaning her head into his neck and letting it rest there.

“Now you have to tell me,” he said, giggling as he gently pulled her away so he could see her face.

“Mhm,” she whined, trying to nestle back into his neck to feel his warmth.

“Stoppp,” he said, softly grabbing her face with his hands. “Tell me.”

She looked up at him, and he leaned closer to her lips. “I love you,” she whispered.

Mingyu paused for a moment, his eyes widening before breaking into a grin. Luna, sensing the shift, hopped off his lap as he moved.

“You love me?” Mingyu asked, still holding her face with one hand and giggling.

She nodded, her cheeks puffing out as she waited for him to say it back.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Uh!” she said, playfully pushing his arm away and giggling as he grabbed her back, laughing.

“You didn’t say it back, wowww,” she said sarcastically, pretending to move his arms away and leave.

“I’m kidding,” he joked, pulling her close again.

As they settled down, she looked at him once more. He pushed her hair behind her ears and said, “I love you too,” before kissing her deeply.

After their first “I love you,” their lives sped up. Weeks turned into months, and despite their busy schedules, they made time for each other. Mingyu flew out to see her during her tour and supported her at Coachella. Mirae used her limited free days to visit him. Their efforts to stay connected despite their hectic lives demonstrated their commitment and reassured them both that their relationship was serious and worth every effort.

Their first anniversary fell on one of her concert days in Australia, and Mirae was saddened by their inability to celebrate together. Both were very busy, but Mingyu reassured her that they could celebrate another day. True to his word, they found a weekend when they were both free and spent it away in Paris, the city of love.

Their first actual vacation together was both extravagant and wonderful. Mingyu, being the romantic he is, ensured every detail was perfect, and his efforts made Mirae swoon. She didn’t care about the expense; she just wanted to be with him and relax. Yet, seeing him put in so much effort to make everything special made her feel truly loved.

The trip felt like a scene from a movie, a story she would one day share with her future children. They went sightseeing, explored various bars, and connected with locals. They slow-danced to street musicians at night, spent their days wrapped up in bed, and cherished every moment together.

As her tour came to an end and she returned to Korea, Mirae found herself increasingly immersed in Mingyu’s world. His members became her friends, and she enjoyed joining in on the playful teasing of Mingyu. Wonwoo, who lived with him, became a big brother figure to her. She often saw him during her visits, often cooking for him, and would invite him to join them for shows and games.

Mingyu also became more involved in Mirae’s life, growing close to her siblings and mother, as well as their significant others. She loved watching him laugh with her brother and sister and help her mother with cooking. His presence was refreshing, and her mother often praised him to Mirae, appreciating how he seamlessly fit into their family.

Their circles began to intertwine effortlessly, and both of them loved how seamless the transition had been. Her friends adored him, and his friends embraced her, all recognizing how well they complemented each other. It was clear to everyone around them that they were truly good for one another.

However, their growing closeness did not go unnoticed online. Observant fans and followers began to remark on how Mirae seemed particularly close with some of Mingyu's band members at various events. Speculation and curiosity about their interactions sparked discussions, with many wondering about the nature of their relationship.

Additionally, fans noticed how Mirae and Mingyu often wore similar clothing and posted similar styles, which fueled more speculation about their connection. While she tried not to let it bother her, the constant scrutiny and unfounded rumors occasionally made her resent her life as an idol.

At times, She longed for the freedom to stroll down the street with Mingyu without worrying about paparazzi. The only moments they could truly roam freely were when they were out of the country.

Though they loved each other deeply, the fear of their relationship being discovered loomed over them. She wished it didn’t have to be this way, but the reality was harsh, male idols who sought happiness and the women they chose to be with often faced judgment and scrutiny.

It wasn’t everyone, but even small rumors and fan ships had brought unwarranted hate her way in the past, simply for being close to someone. Despite her efforts to stay unaffected, seeing such negativity was disheartening. While she was content within her private bubble with Mingyu, the constant fear of their relationship being exposed weighed heavily on her.

Both of them worried about the potential exposure of their relationship, but they knew that if it ever came to that, they would never let others’ opinions force them to break up. They were deeply happy and in love, and they both had a strong sense that this was it, that they had found their forever person. Their hearts were irrevocably intertwined, and they knew they would never let go.

This was the love she had waited for, a love that had not only lifted her off her feet but had also left her heart soaring in a way she had never imagined. It was the kind of love that felt both exhilarating and comforting, the kind that made every moment with him feel like a dream come true. He was her forever boy, the one who had come into her life and made her believe in the magic of true love. With him, every day felt brighter, every challenge seemed manageable, and every moment was filled with a sense of deep, unshakeable happiness. This was the love she had always yearned for, and now that she had found it, she knew it was worth every wait, every tear, and every heartache she had ever experienced.

Mingyu was hers, and she was his. This was it. And she couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them together.

[wyfy-meltdown]

It is literally foreshadowed in her name Kyoko is bound to suicide with Sayaka as sakura's are heavily associated with kamikazes. Besides aforementioned timeline; In Portable, during the scheduled downfall of Sayaka, and eventual death at Homura's hands, Kyoko has a breakdown switching between laughing, crying, until eventually screaming in pain as she turns to Ophelia, saying she was stupid to think she could save Sayaka. Ophelia's labyrinth literally has little fish floating around, it's so clearly underwater, it's so clearly tied to Sayaka, there are staves with musical notes coming out of the ground of the labyrinth. And as if that isn't enough, the music playing is relatively similar to Symposium Magarum, at the very least a part of it, altered, slower, on a different instrument - it's there however if you listen close. Kyoko is so tied to Sayaka in her mind that even if in series they weren't on the best of terms, it affects her in death. Her feelings are obvious once stirred through enough, it's Sayaka that refuses any aid, or a chance at another way. There IS, another way, that through Kyoko, however Sayaka's ideation of a magical girl is heavily tied to Mami's image (not Mami herself, but how she presented, lacking the vulnerability she shared with Madoka) who is in complete contrast to Kyoko. The full "you die a hero or live long enough become a villain". No matter how much she runs away from it however, I feel that in Rebellion Sayaka embraces both sides (and creating the doppel system by proxy). On another note, and parallel, Sayaka chose to "give her life away", becoming a magical girl meant suicide to her in the end and, the argument with Madoka in the rain may had still lingered in the back of her mind, so Kyoko choosing suicide to keep her company mirrored that and maybe, just maybe, she felt understood through it. It was the ultimate sacrifice Sayaka made for love and association could be made to believe that Kyoko's suicide is also her confession. The magnet metaphor is due the blue/red but also you need to hold them in a certain way for them stick (as the same ends will push one another away, the same they did under the same condition) and when they do, they're insepparable.

Thank you for the opportunity to ramble ^^

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!!!

I've never been able to play/watch play throughs of the portable games, so I lack a lot of context when it comes to events and information presented in it.

Kyoko has a strange mild obsession with Sayaka and saving Sayaka, which almost reminds me of Homura and Madoka's relationship.

I feel the warped (not in the toxic sense, just unconventional sense) ideas that Kyoko has about expressing her love to Sayaka reflects her past and the wish she made for her father. To Kyoko, love means absolute devotion and sacrifice. In Japan, there's a myth that two lovers who commit suicide together are reborn as twins and/or reborn as the same person. Kyoko truly does see kamikazeing herself into Oktavia as a way for her to fully express the feeling of "I love you and I swear I won't leave you alone or abandon you for someone else".

While I believe Kyoko originally intended to warn Sayaka about wishing for others (sorta how Mami did), and pitied her because the circumstances of Sayaka's wish were so similar to her own, she fell fast and hard.

They're both so similar and yet oppositionally different. They're both so, so, deeply and desperately lonely and Kyoko sees this and sees a way for the two of them to overcome their loneliness together. But Sayaka has such a strong idea of "a good magical girl" and "a good person" she won't allow herself to connect with anyone else, especially not Kyoko, who she views as "evil" (I believe Mami played a part in this view).

They could've had a happy ending and saved eachother if only Sayaka wasn't so stubborn and Kyoko could take a gentler approach. The very direct "full-force love" style they both have, with the added "inability to properly confess without use of secretive acts of devotion" is why we got the ending we did.

I know you're asking anonymously, but I'm pretty sure I know who you are based off the expansion from a previous reblog/post lol. Thank you so much for ranting like this!!! I'm so happy you expanded on the previous ideas!!!

[reobabesstuff]

chapter 6

It had been a long, draining week for Y/n. Everything felt off, like the world was slipping through her fingers, and she couldn’t keep up. The small things had begun to pile up—failed assignments, unfinished projects, misunderstandings with friends—and with each passing day, her sense of isolation grew. It wasn’t that she was truly alone, but it felt like everyone was moving on without her. Her friends had their own lives, and their own problems, and the distance between them seemed to grow no matter how hard she tried to bridge the gap.

She sat at her kitchen table, the room dimly lit by the fading afternoon light. Her phone lay in front of her, the screen cracked from an earlier accident. It had been hours since anyone had reached out, and the emptiness around her was almost suffocating.

The weight of everything pressed down on her—her inability to connect with those around her, the anxiety gnawing at her from every direction. She wanted to scream, to vent the frustration that had built up inside her. But there was no one to listen. There never was.

Her thoughts drifted to Jun-yeong.

She hated herself for it, but in the deepest part of her mind, she couldn’t deny that she thought about him more often than she should. The way he always seemed to know what to say, the way his words made her feel like he understood her in a way no one else could. Even if his presence made her uneasy, she couldn’t shake the pull he had on her.

She had pushed him away countless times. Told herself that he was toxic, that his manipulations were dangerous, that she didn’t need him. But right now, at this moment of weakness, she was struggling to convince herself that it was true.

Her phone buzzed, and Y/n glanced at the screen. It was a message from him.

"You seem off. Want to talk?"

The words were simple, but they hit her harder than she expected. He knew. He always seemed to know when she was struggling. He was always there, lurking in the shadows of her thoughts, offering a hand when she was most vulnerable.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she debated whether to respond. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear what he would say, but the isolation, the frustration, the crushing loneliness inside her pushed her to reply.

"I’m not okay."

There was no immediate response. Y/n’s heart raced, the silence stretching longer than she expected. Just when she thought he had ignored her, her phone buzzed again.

"I’ll be there in a few."

Y/n stared at the screen, her pulse quickening. She didn’t know what she expected from him, but the fact that he was coming—no questions asked, no judgment—felt like a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty.

She stood up, pacing around her small apartment, trying to calm herself. Her mind raced with doubts. Was this a good idea? Should she reach out to him? He wasn’t someone she should rely on, not when she was already feeling this fragile. But as the seconds ticked by, she couldn’t help the growing desperation. She needed someone. Anyone.

The knock at her door made her jump. It was him.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she opened the door. When she did, Jun-yeong stood there, leaning against the frame with his usual half-smirk, but his eyes—his eyes were different. They were softer, more knowing.

“I thought you might need me,” he said quietly, stepping inside when she didn’t say anything.

For a moment, they stood there, the weight of the unspoken tension hanging in the air. She couldn’t find the words to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside her, so she didn’t try. Instead, she just closed the door behind him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself be vulnerable.

She leaned against the door, her eyes focused on the floor. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just… I feel so alone, like nothing is going right.”

Jun-yeong didn’t say anything at first. He watched her carefully, his gaze unreadable, before walking closer. His presence, though unsettling at times, felt oddly comforting now. He was the only one who had ever been so persistent, so unwilling to let her slip away.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his voice low, almost gentle. “I’m here.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “But you don’t understand. No one does. Everyone around me seems so caught up in their own lives. They don’t care.”

Jun-yeong’s expression shifted, something darker flickering in his eyes. “That’s because they’re not the ones who see you for who you really are. They don’t know you like I do.”

She shook her head, trying to push the feeling away, but it kept creeping in, this dangerous belief that maybe he was right. Maybe she didn’t have anyone else. Perhaps no one else cared in the way he did.

The thought made her stomach churn, but she couldn’t push it aside.

“I don’t want to need you,” she admitted quietly, almost as if to herself.

Jun-yeong stepped closer, his gaze softening just slightly. “You don’t have to want it. You just do. And that’s okay.”

The words hit her harder than she expected. She wanted to fight against it, to deny it, but there was an undeniable pull to him, a familiarity that made her feel understood in a way she had never felt before. He wasn’t here to fix her or save her. He was just… here. And that was enough for her at this moment.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she said, the vulnerability in her voice thick. “Please.”

Jun-yeong didn’t need to ask who she meant. He simply nodded, his expression unreadable but somehow reassuring. “I won’t. But you don’t have to carry this on your own. Not anymore.”

In that moment, despite everything she had told herself about him, despite the manipulations she knew he was capable of, she felt a strange comfort in his presence. She didn’t want to admit it, but she couldn’t deny that she needed him—just like he had said.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel completely alone.

The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She sat on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, staring out the window. The streetlights outside cast a faint, warm glow through the curtains, but her mind was elsewhere.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, and without looking, she knew who it was. Jun-yeong. She had been trying to avoid him, trying to convince herself that she didn’t need him, but when she glanced down at the screen and saw his name, her heart skipped.

“I’m outside. Let me in.”

Y/n's breath caught in her throat. He knew things, and found ways into her life without her even realizing it. He always seemed to know when she was at her breaking point.

With a mixture of hesitation and something else—something she couldn’t name—she stood up and walked to the door. When she opened it, he was standing there, leaning against the frame, his dark eyes locking with hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The tension between them was thick, charged with unspoken words and emotions that neither wanted to acknowledge. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she stepped aside to let him in.

“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice a mix of frustration and curiosity, her arms crossed over her chest.

Jun-yeong didn’t respond right away. He simply closed the door behind him and looked at her with that same unreadable expression he always wore, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Because you need me,” he said softly, his voice low, almost soothing in its certainty.

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need you. I didn’t ask for your help.”

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “No, you didn’t. But I know you. You don’t need to say it. I can see it in your eyes.”

Before she could protest, he closed the distance between them, his hand reaching out to gently brush her hair behind her ear, the touch surprisingly tender.

Her breath caught at the sudden intimacy. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the warmth of someone else’s presence, the feeling of being cared for—cared about—despite the way he had manipulated her in the past. Despite everything, she felt herself drawn to him, unable to look away.

“You’ve been pushing people away,” Jun-yeong said softly, his voice almost a whisper as his thumb gently traced the curve of her cheek. “But you don’t have to do that with me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/n felt her heart beat faster as his hand lingered on her face. There was something in his gaze, something raw and vulnerable that made her want to lean into him, to allow herself to feel what she had been trying so desperately to deny.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes searching his for some sign of sincerity.

Jun-yeong’s hand slid down to her neck, his fingers tracing lightly over her skin. “You don’t have to trust me. But I’m here, aren’t I?”

She closed her eyes, the gentle pressure of his touch sending shivers down her spine. There was something about him, something magnetic, that made it hard to resist. The walls she had built up so carefully started to crumble, piece by piece.

Without thinking, her hand reached up to touch his, fingers brushing against his as if testing the reality of his presence.

“You can’t just walk into my life and expect me to fall for this,” she whispered, but her words were lacking the usual conviction.

Jun-yeong smiled, his eyes dark with something that made Y/n’s pulse quicken. “But you already have. Haven’t you?”

Before she could respond, he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against her forehead. It was gentle, almost too soft, but it sent a rush of warmth through her that made her feel both grounded and out of control at the same time.

“Just let me in,” he murmured, his voice low and insistent. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

The sincerity in his voice, the warmth of his touch, and the way he seemed to understand her better than anyone else made her heart ache. She didn’t know how to respond, but all of a sudden, the weight of her loneliness, her isolation, became too much to bear.

She closed the small distance between them, her lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow, uncertain at first. But as the kiss deepened, all the doubts and fears she had been holding onto melted away. She didn’t know where this was going, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care.

In that moment, it was just the two of them—no expectations, no manipulations. Just the feeling of connection, the overwhelming sense that, for once, she wasn’t alone.

[kakerutori]

HEYY YOUR SO PRETTY BTW AND I LOVE YOUR BLOG

the ask :

so, i wanted to get ur opinion on s3 mike. such as, what he was going through and his internalized homophobia. things like that!

maybe some things w/ him and his relationship w/ el too!

THANKS FOR ANSWERING IF U DO ANSWER :D

I’m gonna pretend that I’m fine after weeks of getting flustered just staring at this in my inbox! Thank you, anon!!! 🥺🥺 You’re making me blush! But, uh, anyways! Let’s talk about Mike Wheeler! 💙

I think that Mike in season 3 is the most interesting version of himself in the entire show because of how hidden his story becomes. In all other seasons, Mike cries openly with other people and expresses his sadness and fears over Will and El.

In season 3, though? Besides the finale, the tearful goodbyes narrated by Hopper, we never see Mike truly cry and explicitly talk through why. Sure, it can be pretty readily implied that it’s because of the Byers leaving, but we don’t hear that aloud. We don’t see exactly who’s on Mike’s mind as those cars pull away. We're left with silent and unsure stares, looks of seeming regret or something else unknown.

Season 3 is truly a huge turning point for Mike, he’s losing his girlfriend and arguably his closest friend in the Party, and it's so easily overlooked because it all happens at the very end of the final episode. Whereas El goes through hell and fights to connect to Billy and save her friends, where Max also feels the weight of his loss, where Will gets his heartbreaking scene at Castle Byers - all the Party members who are very linked to Mike get their emotional moments that season, and we know exactly why they cry.

But Mike dances around his emotions all season long. In consulting Lucas to deal with breaking up and making up with El, in trying to tell El that he loves her without ever saying it, in fighting with Will because "it's not [his] fault [Will doesn't] like girls."

Oh, Mike. I really don't think that Mike was out to hurt Will when he said that. Rather, it's a culmination of heteronormativity and the poor relationship that he has with El and trying to compensate for it. I interpret the outburst as him saying, 'it's not my fault that I'm in a relationship and you're not, so you wouldn't get it.' And by extension, Will being in a relationship would require, normatively, being with a girl.

But at the same time, for a jab that deep - I can't help but question more.

Mike could have said, "it's not my fault you don't like anyone!" or "don't bring her into this!" or even as simple as, "you wouldn't understand!" But no. Mike takes the direct train to sexuality station and brings up the fact that El is a girl. So it seems to me that Mike is very likely harboring something in his heart about why El being a girl is important for him to argue.

But we never know for sure. This moment is never addressed again due to the Mind Flayer’s sudden return. And so it’s up to us as the audience to decide what we think of Mike’s statement. And personally, as I’m sure many of you believe, too, I think that Mike is projecting and trying to hide the fact that he doesn’t like girls onto Will, pushing away his problems to someone he trusts who’s more similar to himself than he realizes.

Tied to his inability to say to El’s face that he loves her, to the fact that they've - reportedly from Hopper - kissed all Summer long with no mention of meaningful conversation, to the very surface-level relational mending his makes by calling El’s outfit “cool” and giving her candy, to the very end of the season where Mike once again denies saying that he loved El just before an open-eyed kiss and a face like this:

Mike doesn’t need to say anything about that kiss for me to know that that’s not the reaction of someone who’s perfectly happy to be back together with his ex-girlfriend. So do I wish that we had a moment of vulnerability for Mike where he expressed his heart in season 3? Yes, but his nonverbals spoke volumes.

So, yeah, I think that in season 3, Mike is very much gay, but he he acts cautiously and self-preservingly because trauma is drowning everything out.

And what is this trauma? I know that I’m working backwards, but I need to bring up that Mike was separated from El for so long in the time of season 2, and I think that that makes him so attached to her in season 3. Think about what else he says in that scene when he admits his love: “I love her and I can’t lose her again.”

As sweet as it is to be reunited to El by the end of season 2, it’s not a clean reunion for Mike. He’s in shambles when he learns that Hopper was lying to him and not letting El even tell Mike that she’s okay.

Not to mention that this isn’t his first but second time almost losing her to the monster that season.

Because of this unstable connection, I think that Mike has built a protective relationship with El, one that focuses on keeping her rather than knowing her, and we see how that all unfolds with his superficial “superhero” complex he has of her in season 4. Season 3 was just the beginning.

And so I think that Mike in season 3 stands as a version of himself that’s confused protectiveness with love. Even though he arguably behaves with that same mindset all the time, it’s at its highest during season 3 because of his never-ending insistence to help El even if she’s capable to do things by herself. Mike isn’t just clingy, he’s worried. Worried for her life. There’s no time to worry about where the problems in their relationship arise, there’s only time to fix them and go back to how they were at equilibrium - when things were normal.

Thus, Mike behaves rather stubbornly. He’s insistent and defensive, not letting a single thing slip through the cracks and risk any more hurt. In doing so, his personality is left far under the surface and unexplored. He only acts to stir up emotions rather than reflect on them, because any pausing to think will only confuse him more. He’s looking ahead, looking at the light, holding onto everything good he has with all the propriety of a 13/14-year-old who has a heart bigger than his head.

Simply put, Mike is a bit of an anti-hero this season. And I think that it's because of this that he starts to get most controversial for the audience.

I’m clearly a Mike apologist, but I genuinely don’t think that he’s out to hurt anyone when he argues with others this season. He’s just stubborn and loud about it, which can definitely be to his fault at times. But in the end, when it comes down to who he loves, I think that season 3 is the era of change, and that ending scene with Hopper’s letter paints the perfect setup for the next seasons to reveal that Mike has a lot more going on under the surface that’s causing all of this. Maybe some regrets, things he wishes he could “turn back the clock” on, regarding, say, Will and El and how he treats them platonically and romantically? Just a thought.

The question of the day for Mike in season 3 stands: is he being selfish or selfless? And I think that it’s a mix of both, blended in with some heavy confusion due to role changing (not needing to protect El) and uncertain affections (not knowing how to figure out what he has with Will).

So, yeah. All in all, I think that Mike is really closeted in season 3 and doesn’t realize it until the final episode, and I honestly love him for it. As someone who’s gone through similar hurdles of internalized homophobia as a teen, it’s really heartwarming to see him grow and figure things out, even if the journey is far from perfect. It’s a humble origin story. And if he somehow ends up being straight and Byler isn’t endgame, well. I’ll be upset at the writers, but the impact still stands.

[assmaster-8000]

OKAY NOW THAT IM FINALLY FREE PREPARE FOR MY ASKS TO STEADILY FLOW IN BECAUSE YOU GET ME™️ was having thoughts about waking up to cécile thanks to your artwork (other things were going on that didn’t involve sleeping anndkss) but idk something about the softness of that vs him is just…it does something to me okay

also having thoughts about him fighting the urge to look at you in a certain way while you interact with gael

also having thoughts about taking advantage of him being off duty

and your tags on my fic meant sooo much to me, thank you again I’m so happy you liked it, talking to you about him made me think how important picking up on his body language would be for your mental sanity, and you’d have to be damn good at it too

no literally!!!! waking to cécile KILLS ME BECAUSE OF THAT ONE ASKKKK 😭😭😭👊👊👊👊

nsfw mention in the last paragraph

WHAT DO YOU MEAN CÉCILE DOESN'T SLEEP THE WHOLE NIGHT BECAUSE HE'S TOO ENAMOURED BY THE VULNERABILITY YOU'VE SHOWN HIM BY FALLING ASLEEP IN HIS BED AND THE VULNERABILITY YOU'VE PRIED OUT OF HIM FOR EVEN LETTING YOU BETWEEN THE SHEETS?????? OR MAYBE HE'S SCARED AS IN SO VERY SCARED OF THE WAY YOU'VE DESTROYED HIM BEYOND REPAIR BECAUSE NOW THAT HE'S HAD YOU HE'S GONNA KEEP WANTING YOU TILL HE HAS ALL OF YOU AND THAT THOUGHT IS MORTIFYING TO THE CLOSED, HOLLOW HEART OF HIS??? OR MAYBE HE HASN'T SLEPT NEXT TO SOMEONE IN SO LONG THAT THE FEELING OF YOUR BODY IS TRULY FOREIGN TO HIM AND HE CAN'T HELP BUT LEARN ALL OF YOU EVEN WHEN, OR ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE ASLEEP????????????? WHAT THA FARRKKKKK i think the first night with cécile is gonna be 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 because he's denied you for so long that he just... snaps. he snaps and he'll have you no natter what. but after the sex, after the passion? he's angry, shocked— scared. what have you done to him? and he has to get up early in the morning because he can't stand the thought of you seeing him like this past the lust BUT HE STAYS ANYWAYS UNTIL YOU WAKE UP. IM SICK. IM FUCKING SICK. RAVENSTAR DEVS ARE YOU HAPPY TO SEE ME CRY?? CÉCILE IS ALL DRESSED AND CLEANED UNTIL YOU WAKE UP AND KNOWING ACTS OF SERVICE IS SEWN INTO HIM, HE MIGHT HELP YOU FRESHEN UP BEFORE HE GOES OFF TO WORK. HE'LL SAY IT'S BECAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT ANYONE TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN YOU TWO WITH YOUR ' GRAVE INABILITY FOR DECORUM' AND MAYBE SO BUT CÉCILE, FOR ALL HIS CUTTING FORTHRIGHTNESS, HAS THINGS HE CAN NEVER ADMIT. SO HE'LL ALLOW HIS GAZE TO LINGER ON YOU BEFORE HE GOES BACK TO FIGHTING OFF AN UNBIDDEN DESIRE (DESIRE? LUST? NEED? HE DAREN'T THINK OF THE OTHER DIRTIER WORD BEGINNING WITH 'L')

ahem. pardon my french i got a little carried away! also a certain way goes so many ways here LOL i think for the most part he'd just be looking at you like you're a roach buzzing around gael. his master is a respectable and noble man and you're... you 🤨🤨🤨 unfortunately he can't let his face do all the talking because believe it or not, gael doesn't want his bodyguard to stare murderously at his guest.

the other way is the one that screams with conflict. again i really have to know what cécile thinks of his love for mc in relation to his love for gael because i have no doubt that even when you reach the end goal and become cécile's world, gael is still gonna mean so so much to him. at that point, would he sacrifice everything else for you? yes. but he knows the world includes gael too and it's a part of him nothing, and i mean nothing can heal. what im trying to say is; does cécile feel even more pained, looking at you when you're standing right next to his master only in name, now? can he stand to look honestly at gael when the bane of existence and the recipient of all his need makes things so fucking difficult? he has never been on gael's level, and for good reason.

he has no right to ask for gael's forgiveness nor understanding - even though gael would forgive him in every life time like jesus willingly kissed judas - but he can't help but... need to know. just this once, the loyal hound strays and he's sorry. he's so, so sorry. please know (yes, i know) that he did not go willingly (of course you did, and it's okay), that he will always love gael (i have no doubts about that, but it's about time you have a love to call your own, now - a master and a pet only for you).

and he can't help it, the smaller feeling crawling underneath his skin. that the exact same master he loves so dearly could treat you better than cécile could by miles— gael could sweep you off your feet, and cécile wouldn't even be angry.

also sorry but 'taking advantage of him' while he's off duty snapped me out of my angsty mindset and immediately got me huffing like a dog. heartbreak time over, we're pulling cécile into a bathroom stall to suck that dick till it's blue and black before sending him off again 🤷

[tapwater118]

gonna take you up on that whole “i give you: ramblings - you give me: approval/a number from 1-10” thing, liy related since i know shes on the mind. this wouldve been what that liy&one fic i vagueposted about in tapcord focuses on btw, chances of me finishing that are slim so i’m just gonna talk about it here!

liy’s been shown to be very inquisitive and focused on her adventures, see how throughout bfb + tpot 1 with how she reacts to the exit backdoor. and so a new mystery afoot? contestants disappearing left and right only to return with their limbs back? hesitant to discuss the things they did? thats prime for liy’s next adventure!

i always imagine her with one of those big investigation boards tying things together with pins and string, shes tying points together late at night but things just won’t make sense! atleast not until someone decides to make a special visit…

bam! shes in one’s lair, after some sort of frantic failed escape attempt, panic sets in due to the fact that she was caught by yet another blue number, cue angst thanks to exit ptsd, but worry not! one is here. she tells liy how theyve been watching eachother for a while, in a way, and how she’d like to make a deal!

liy’s an outcast - likely feeling some sort of inability to truly connect to people after debutting into tpot, even if she had made great friends with everyone on her team (bottle and pen atleast), the exit almost certainly took its toll, as represented through pencil. theres also her killing past, something which definitely still is present in her in some way. those who know her the best? foldy and stapy? they know about it! she cant escape it anyway. not to mention the looming threat of being eliminated again, who knows what’ll happen there! it definitely is something weighing on her mind constantly after the exit

all that to say she’s very vulnerable to a deal being made in ‘her favor’. unlike all the other contestants, she also doesn’t have the same loyalty to two that everyone else does, making her the prime candidate by one as her proxy in the game. she couldn’t do this with anyone else previously, but she could play, and win tpot through liy, getting two’s powers not through force but instead by pulling the strings from the shadows. she’d probably offer liy a fraction of the powers of two - heck maybe even some of one’s power upfront!

so yeah! liy signs the deal admitidly hesitantly, but it’ll bring her what she wants, she believes. whether or not this comes true? who knows! i havent thought about things more but thats where you could throw in your own thoughts if you like i’ve exerted enough brainpower here. liyone toxic yuri is real btw

9/10 the one point docked because you forgot the sloppy make out

[writing-in-verse]

So I Finally Read A Restless Truth by Freya Marske

I've been debating what to say about this book since I finished it late last week. Not because I didn't enjoy it - on the contrary, I loved it possibly more than the first - but rather because I have so much I could say.

A friend of mine recently mentioned, in a poorly-phrased statement out of context, that he didn't really know me. In context he's referring to how little I talk about myself, the self behind the ADHD masque and trauma and deflection.

It's hard to write a character that who's entirely public persona is a facade without making them seem either two dimensional or just two separate characters in one body. Sarah J. Maas is a great example of how to do this terribly with her main character of Throne of Glass, Celaena.

Anyone who knows me knows I have contempt for these books in a way I rarely do for any other. There's so much wrong with them but that's not the point, the point is Celaena is a terrible character who feels like a separate person depending on what the author needs her to be. She's either a snarky, sexy assassin who has no real moral compass or a fashion-loving, sexy princess who finds being an assassin horrifying. The two sides of her talk and act entirely differently with very little crossover to the point where they have different names by the latter half of the series.

Violet, and by extension Freya Marske, shows how someone who has a lot of ptsd tends to deal with their trauma. Of course, everyone is different and hiding behind a sharp wit and rebellious distraction isn't the healthy solution but it is relatable to me. Violet's background on the New York underground stage scene (a part of performance history I'm not well educated on so it was fun to see in historical fiction) gave her the knowledge needed to play a part, whatever part the audience expects of her without ever revealing who she truly is.

I'd be loathe to suggest Violet's public persona is fake as that's simply not true: my own outward way of being is still me even if I keep much of my life away from scrutiny. Violet is sharp and quick witted and rebellious but she uses her stage skills to leave people with a simplified impression, without any of her fears or anxieties mixed in. It's not inauthentic but rather safe and controlled. It's why everyone but Maud Blyth accepts what they're given.

What's more insightful is Violet's inability to see the way she is limiting herself out fear for survival. It isn't until Maud gives her the perspective to see the cage she has constructed for herself that she starts to realise the walls keep you in as much as they keep others out. Of course, Violet can see it on some level but that lack of true introspection is as much a trauma response as everything else. The walls are built around the most vulnerable parts as much to protect as to ignore the damage that's already been done.

I've never seen a character manage to portray the complex realities of living with trauma quite like Violet does, not in the immediate aftermath but in the long periods living with part of yourself you think need to be hidden lest they be taken advantage of or are seen as flaws which makes you less worthy of love rather than a tapestry of someone who deserves more love than was ever afforded.

Violet is fascinating from a character design perspective but she's also incredibly well written, she feels like a person who contains multitudes, who is not 'fixed' by the end of the book but she is willing to let Maud in little by little. Step by step.

Okay this was a long one, turns out I had a lot to say (and honestly still do (I haven't even gushed about Maud!!!)) but I hope you enjoyed reading it.

[phoebe1013]

the Twelfth Doctor from Doctor Who being extremely obsessed with you Headcanons

🧠 Hyperfixation on You

Mentally Consumed by You: The Twelfth Doctor, known for his sharp intellect and restless mind, would find himself constantly thinking about you. He can’t concentrate on his usual Time Lord duties because his thoughts always drift back to you. You become the focus of his endless curiosity and fascination, a puzzle that he can never stop trying to solve.

Studying You: The Doctor would pay attention to every little thing about you—your habits, your likes and dislikes, the way you speak. He'd analyze everything, from your body language to the way you smile, storing it in his Time Lord brain like vital information. He knows your routines better than you do, and he makes sure to always be one step ahead of your needs.

🌌 Possessive Protector

Overbearing Protectiveness: The Doctor would feel an overwhelming need to protect you, not only from external threats like Daleks or Cybermen but even from everyday dangers in your own life. His obsession manifests in his constant hovering, even when there’s no real threat. If you so much as stubbed your toe, he'd rush in with his sonic screwdriver, determined to fix it.

Isolation for Safety: Believing no one else can truly protect you like he can, the Doctor would subtly push others away from you. "They don't understand the danger like I do," he’d tell you in his gruff voice, his intense stare unwavering. He’d justify it as keeping you safe, but in truth, it's because he can't bear the thought of you being too close to anyone else.

⏳ Time Manipulation for Control

Master of Time, Master of You: The Twelfth Doctor might use his control over time to keep you close. If you ever tried to leave, or if something didn’t go the way he wanted, he’d quietly manipulate time so that events always led back to him. He wouldn’t be open about it, but you’d notice strange things happening—time loops or déjà vu, all with the purpose of keeping you at his side.

Keeping You by His Side Across Time and Space: The Doctor would always offer to take you anywhere in the universe, but every trip subtly revolves around him, trapping you within his world. Even though he offers you freedom, it’s only the illusion of it, because wherever you go, he’s always there, ensuring you stay within his orbit.

🌀 Emotional Control

Emotional Whirlwind: The Twelfth Doctor isn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but for you, his emotions would be a whirlwind. He swings between gruff, distant affection and intense, raw emotion that he struggles to contain. He often says things like, "I'm not good at this sort of thing," but his actions scream obsession—his inability to leave you alone, the way he watches you with those sharp, ancient eyes.

Emotional Manipulation: While the Doctor cares deeply for you, he may use emotional manipulation to ensure you stay with him. He’s a master at playing on your fears or emotions, using guilt or his own vulnerability to make you feel like leaving him would be catastrophic for both of you. “I don’t do well alone,” he’d say, eyes soft but intense. “Don’t make me go back to that.”

🔮 Dangerous Attachment

Fiercely Jealous: The Twelfth Doctor’s jealousy would be simmering and dangerous, though not always obvious. He wouldn’t confront others directly, but you'd sense a coldness in him whenever anyone else got too close to you. His sarcastic remarks might have a sharper edge when directed at people he perceives as threats. He may not say it out loud, but you can feel his territorial nature growing stronger.

Unspoken Possession: The Doctor would never say that he owns you, but in his mind, you're his. He sees your relationship as something beyond the ordinary bounds of time and space—infinite. Anyone else who tries to get close to you is just an obstacle, and he would make sure those obstacles are quietly removed, sometimes without you even knowing.

🛠 Constant Presence

Always There: You'd notice that the Doctor always seems to be around, even when you didn't expect him to be. He'd show up at your door, "just checking in" or “passing by,” though it’s clear he’s been keeping tabs on you. There’s an unsettling sense that he’s always watching over you, either in person or through the TARDIS’s surveillance capabilities.

Monitoring Everything: The Doctor would use the TARDIS’s advanced technology to monitor your every move, not in an overtly creepy way, but always under the guise of protecting you. He’d know where you are, what you’re doing, and even how you’re feeling, often before you do. You’d find it both comforting and suffocating to realize how closely he’s watching over you.

⚔️ Tactical Genius in Love

Strategic Planning: The Twelfth Doctor's mind works like a chess master, and his obsession with you is no different. He’d meticulously plan out every interaction, making sure every moment you spend together strengthens your bond. Even when it seems like he’s being spontaneous, everything is calculated to keep you close and invested in him.

Outwitting Rivals: If anyone shows romantic interest in you, the Doctor would subtly and effectively outwit them. He wouldn’t confront them outright—he’s too clever for that. Instead, he’d manipulate events or conversations to highlight their flaws, making it clear that no one can measure up to him. “Oh, they seem nice,” he’d say with a sarcastic smirk, before quickly pointing out their failings.

💀 Dark, Unspoken Desperation

Fear of Losing You: The Twelfth Doctor’s greatest fear would be losing you. It’s this fear that drives his obsession, the gnawing dread that if he loses you, he’ll fall into the loneliness and darkness that he’s spent lifetimes running from. This fear would manifest in controlling behavior—he’d always know where you are, always have a plan to keep you by his side.

Unstable Underneath: Though the Doctor keeps a tight lid on his emotions, his obsession with you brings out a more unstable side of him. His outbursts of anger, though rare, are terrifying—sharp, quick, and followed by an apology. His love for you is like a storm he can’t control, and when he feels you slipping away, the cracks in his calm façade begin to show.

🌠 Infinite Love, Infinite Loneliness

He Can Never Let You Go: The Doctor’s love for you is infinite, like the stars, but that love is also deeply selfish. He wants to be the only one in your universe, the one you rely on for everything. Though he knows it’s unfair, he just can’t bring himself to give you the freedom you might need. You are his—and he’s not willing to lose you to anyone, or anything.

Bound by Time: His obsession with you would make him willing to bend or break the rules of time to keep you. If it came to it, he would rewrite history to keep you safe—or keep you with him. Time doesn’t matter when it comes to his love for you. He would burn whole timelines to ash if it meant keeping you in his world.

[sophiasharp]

I apparently won’t be able to sleep till I put this idea out there so here’s a new fic idea idk if I’ll ever get around to. A warning, this whole thing is dealing with sex, dom/sub dynamics, and is supposed to be a look into how Dew tends to be portrayed in popular fanon. This is also not proofread in the slightest cause it’s 4 am as of writing and I need to be up in roughly 4 hours:

After a scene with Swiss involving forced fem and some quintosis, something goes wrong and Dew becomes seemingly stuck in Princess mode. At first the change isn’t noticed, even praised by those who do, but it soon becomes clear that this sudden shift in demeanor isn’t all fun and games and that something is truly, deeply wrong with Dew. And it’s all hands on deck to fix it.

They sit “Princess” down and each take turns trying to talk to her about why she’s still here and where Dewdrop is, THEIR Dewdrop. Princess doesn’t seem to like her more lucid counterpart all that much for some reason, calls him a “grumpy meanie who only cares about himself and is good for nothing.” The rest of the group is horrified by this outlook but have no idea where it’s come from. Sure, Dew hasn’t always had the best self image, but would he really go that far? Does his subconscious really hate himself that badly?

With every person that comes up to talk to her, Princess mentions a past scene they and Dew were in together, and how he “wasn’t very good then, but I can be very good now, I promise!” They think they’ve found a pattern at first: it’s all scenes where Dew was a brat and was punished for it. However, as more people talk to Princess, more discrepancies show up, with the only thing tying the events together being her insistence that she’ll be good for them, that’s she’ll be better for them than Dew was.

She explains that all she wants, more than anything else in the world, is to be good for them- to please her packmates the way she thinks Dew can’t- but the more the band ask for Dew, the more despondent Princess becomes. Eventually, she breaks down crying, sobbing even over her inability to make her pack happy, much to the horror and confusion of the rest of the group; Dew has never shown his emotions so openly to his pack before. At least, not since his elemental change.

It’s at this point that the group put together a few things: 1.) the reason Mountain and Aether weren’t immediately clued in that something was wrong was because Princess acts a lot like how Dew used to before the elemental transition; 2.) nowadays, the only times Dew ever gets this vulnerable is if he’s scared or if he’s in subspace; 3.) the reason Swiss and Aether can’t undo the quintosis is because some part of Dew is holding onto it, refusing to let it go.

The band is able to put together that this Princess they’re talking to isn’t some other entity made up by the quintosis- it’s still Dew, just deep in character and deep in subspace. The fem bend to it is just a side effect of the initial scene that got Dew stuck.

So, after everyone else has had a go, initially too scared to make it worse but needing to try since no one is left, Swiss comforts Princess and gets them to open up about their worries, revealing what caused the problem and what the root of it is.

The scenes Princess mentioned were each scenes from the past week or two where Dew was left feeling like he hadn’t satisfied his partner. It didn’t matter whether that was true or not, it was a growing concern due to the way the scenes played out: the degradation landing a bit too close to home, the feigned boredom to his efforts to please, his small size compared to the rest of the ghouls, the physical denial of a satisfying end because he hadn’t been “a good boy.” The shame that normally turned him on even more instead sat heavy in his head and built up more and more. He didn’t tell anyone about his mounting insecurities, however, because it’s what he’s used to, what was supposed to be comfortable. He asked for it, so why can’t he deal with it? He’s never had to make a fuss about it before, so he wouldn’t then, even as the gnawing anxieties began to spread outside the bedroom and into every-day tasks, like messing up a run during practice or getting overwhelmed enough to snap at his bandmates.

The scene with Swiss finally made him feel like he was worth something again, only with the added quintosis, the satisfaction didn’t sink all the way through to Dew. Instead, it gave him to idea that he was ONLY worth anything to his pack when he was being the good girl he thought they wanted.

But if now Princess’s pack is saying that they don’t want her anymore, then she’s failed; she wasn’t good enough for them. She tried so hard to be what they wanted but still she fell short. It must be something wrong with both her AND Dew, then, something utterly unfixable that made them undeserving of their pack’s affection. After all, bad girls don’t deserve love. They don’t deserve anything. They’re just a waste of space.

Naturally, this train of thought WILL not stand with the rest of the pack any longer, the bulk of which are mortified that they let this go on for so long and that they had any hand in the downward spiral their favorite fire ghoul took. They all assure Dew/Princess that he doesn’t need to do anything to earn their love; he always had it to start with, and that that love extended to all parts of him, even the parts that he’s self conscious of. Sex isn’t a trial to prove worthiness, not to the partner or even to yourself. Sex us just one of many ways people can connect with one another, and it has no baring on their every-day life any more than they granted it.

Crying again, this time from love more than fear, Dew finally finds it in him to let go of the quintessence and come back to those he love.

[paperstorm]

See I feel like Carlos's not good enough complex is fueled by him feeling like his parents didn't accept him. And I'll bet it didn't just start when he came out. Chances are he grew up hearing that people like him were unnatural even if it wasn't actually from his parents (I honestly can't imagine Gabriel or Andrea ever saying or truly believing that) and like so many other kids he internalized it. And chances are that even if his parents didn't believe that being gay was wrong, we know for a fact that they did struggle with understanding it. And for Carlos, it would've hurt him deeply bc he was brave enough to be honest with his parents only to feel like they rejected him. And then because he never dealt with it, it just got worse. And because he takes such pride in being the person that takes care of TK and keeps him safe, it would've been so hard to see him needing someone else. And again, because he didn't talk to TK about it properly, it just festered. Really that's always been the big issue for him. He starts off with the idea that in order to be good enough, he has to be everything a person could ever need or want and that's just not ever going to happen. And when it doesn't happen, it is in your words a self-fulfilling prophecy where he takes his inability to be a person's everything as proof that he isn't good enough. This would be made worse by the fact that the reason it happened at all is because of someone they let into their home and Carlos would feel like he once again failed to protect TK. I also think him reading up on addiction affected it too. While he obviously can't understand what it's really like for TK and reading a few articles doesn't make anyone an expert, he probably read enough to understand that its an extremely difficult and painful thing to deal with and of course he would hate to think of TK hurting like that. But then he sees how broken TK is later and truly realizes that just because he can't make his pain go away doesn't mean that there aren't other ways to take care of him. I do think though that everything that happened this season has shown Carlos that he doesn't need to be perfect. He can be flawed and vulnerable and he will still be good enough for those that love him

Yes I agree with all of this! I don't have anything to add I just co-sign <3

[scoriol]

chloe and i hung out for 12 hours today, we spoke of nothing and everything. we talked about our current relationships and we picked apart the remnants of old ones. my inability to be vulnerable precedes me. i lie in bed, head spinning, consumed with the need to spit out everything left unsaid. so that’s what this is.

i spoke about brendan (first one) and said he’ll always hold a special place in my heart. what i wanted to say was that he reminds me that sometimes time doesn’t mean shit because despite all that’s passed between us, it feels like nothing’s changed. some people can bring us back to the best parts of what we used to be.

i spoke about rhys- how he showed me what hard work truly meant. i wanted to say his determination and work ethic is one i’ll always admire and i’m fortunate to have witnessed it because i don’t think i would have been inspired otherwise. being completely honest i don’t think he ever understood me, and quite frankly i don’t blame him. but i appreciate how he was generally kind to me. a part of me will never know what he truly felt because he was a very good liar; i.e the time i asked him if i was the best he’s had (in bed) and he said yes. massive lie and i never called him out on it, but only because i know he said it to protect my feelings. he did shitty things but years later i can cop to the fact that he never meant to hurt me (like he claimed). he had, in fact has, a good heart and i will always want the best for him.

i spoke about brendan (second one) and how he could die and i wouldn’t give a shit. i stand by that- some people are truly horrible. i never loved him, but to have this much hatred for someone somehow feels stronger than love. i said all of this out loud, i just wanted to say it again.

i spoke about ritik and how he’s the best. chloe says she adores him and she tears up when i speak about him. i don’t tell anyone (including him) this but i’d hate to have to go through life without him. he is the first stretch of golden light that peaks between the blinds on a sunday morning- how lucky am i?

i spoke about paul. i spoke about how angry i am at him and how he really, i mean REALLY, frustrates me. i didn’t tell her that he’s my best friend and i will always be grateful to him for supporting me during the whole “thing”- it’s hard to forget the one person who had your back when no one else did. i know he loves me (probably more than he should) and it’s reciprocated for the most part, but i wish things were different. i wish we were different. sometimes i dislike the person in front of me- i wish i didn’t feel that way. how can you love someone but not like them?

12 hours with chloe, and i am left with the ghosts of my musings— some welcomed, some better left buried. brendan is a whisper from the past reminding me that love, real love, is neither fleeting nor time bound. rhys is a lesson in effort, proof that admiration doesn’t compensate for a lack of understanding. other brendan is a void, a name i speak only to remember what i will never forgive. ritik is warmth, the kind that lingers even when we’re worlds apart. and paul- paul is love measured in tolerance.