#and tons of bullshit to spew

[noomaserio]

Hi, so I've actually taken some time to think about this because I love character analysis and psychiatry used to be a major interest of mine a few years ago, so feel free to skip this but ty for giving me a reason to yap!

Disclaimer to anyone who's reading: I hope I used all of the correct terminology and nothing I wrote came off as stigmatizing, I'm absolutely open to being corrected or having people add their own opinions on the matter.

Some of the conditions I mentioned I actually have first-hand experience with, so there is zero ill intent.

Gale - I've seen theories about him suffering from NPD, but I personally don't buy it.

He may have narcissistic traits, especially the "communal" subtype (e.g the grandiose sense of self is directly tied to being some kind of martyr or saviour of the people), but honestly? That fits Wyll best.

And I'm absolutely NOT claming Wyll has NPD, just to be clear.

As someone else mentioned, Gale grew up as a gifted kid and later had a major burn out phase after his break up with Mystra, so having an inflated ego is nothing too absurd.

We also know he has a shit ton of insecurities, and some of them are a direct result of his past relationship, especially in the social sense: some mild social anxiety sounds like a reasonable guess.

Some people also HC him as autistic, which is often misdiagnosed as social anxiety and might tie nicely into the whole headcanon.

I'm aware neurodivergence is a different can of worms and it might not be the kind analysis we're talking about, but wasn't Gale canonically a child prodigy who could handle magic from a very young age? "Wizarding" includes TONS of reading, so hyperlexia (which is a common autism comorbidity) could also be worth looking into.

While mental health and neurodivergence are two distinct topics, being neurodivergent has a major impact on your self esteem and how you relate to the world.

Especially if it's undiagnosed, and of course it is, because there are no words in this setting to express the concept.

Gale being a brilliant, gifted kid and an exceptionally smart scholar while also feeling inadequate, awkward and out of place sounds like the average neurodivergent experience.

Some people argue he's suffering from depression, which is understandable given how brooding he seems to be through the game, but his ex literally put a bomb in his chest and doomed him to die.

I wouldn't judge his mood stability by the events of the game, rather on how he does when he doesn't have a bomb in his chest, which would get quite a few people down even in our world.

Most people experience depressive episodes due to environmental circumstances (e.g losing a job, the end of a relationship, grief) despite not suffering from a mood disorder, which might be his case.

Having said that, I encourage any Galemancer to add their two cents.

Astarion - He's an interesting one, and we have many different fanon theories.

I absolutely agree with anyone who says he's suffering from C-PTSD.

C-PSTD develops after long time and/or repeated trauma, and textbook examples fit his experience to a T (e.g the inability to escape, living in an abusive environment, the traumatic event lasting literal centuries)

C-PTSD has a lot of symptoms and presentations, so we could leave it at that, but it also has a lot of comorbidities.

This goes without saying, but he's obviously suffering from hypersexuality as a result of sexual trauma, which is a symptom in many traumagenic disorders.

Some people hypothize BPD, which is possible and I won't deny he does have some BPD traits (e.g black and white thinking, impulsive behaviour, paranoia, volatile mood, unstable relationships) but I feel like these are heavily tied to his current circumstances and are too vague to qualify for a diagnosis.

These symptoms are also common in every other Cluster B disorder.

I find NPD much more likely, especially the somatic subtype, which has the "subject" (for a lack of a better term) be obsessed with their own physical appearance ��� which we know Astarion is, especially since he stopped being able to see his reflection.

Let's take a look at textbook NPD symptoms:

• Sense of self importance and entitlement

• Preoccupation with beauty, power and success

• Interpersonally exploitative behaviour for their own gain

• Arrogance

• Lack of empathy OR highly selective empathy

• Compulsive need to be complimented/admired/positively validated

• Deep seated, internalized feelings of shame and paranoia

• Envy towards others and/or a firm belief in being envied by others

Now, that sounds much more Astarion to me, while also retaining the previous symptoms.

I would personally write off ASPD too, as ASPD's sense of grandiosity typically doesn't need constant validation, if a comorbidity with NPD isn't present.

And now, let's look at an interesting one! HPD:

• Constant attention seeking

• Feeling uncomfortable in situations where they aren't the center of attention

• Overly seductive, theatrical or provocative behaviour

• Showing emotions that appear to be shallow and/or change rapidly

• Speaking in hyperboles

• Being easily influenced by others

HPD and NPD are believed to be opposites, since NPD constantly seeks positive attention and HPD will gladly accept any kind of attention, but they're actually a common comorbidity.

One often presents itself as the "main" disorder, iirc, but they can coexist and they probably do in Astarion, at least imo.

There's also a theory about him suffering from the vampiric variant of an eating disorder: a mixture of anorexic behaviour (e.g starving himself in the shadow cursed lands due to the scarcity of living creatures to drink from) and binge eating (e.g draining the MC if they don't stop him during the bite scene, drinking an entire bear in the underdark).

EDs are common in both people with NPD, HPD and C-PTSD – which makes a lot of sense.

I wouldn't consider it a big part of my headcanon for him, but I do think it's plausible.

Durge - I'm honestly afraid of what could come out of this analysis.

First of all, let's look at common theories: I've seen someone mention schizo-affective disorder, DID and psychopathy in the comments.

Which are all very interesting and I'm glad they brought them up, because it helped me develop my own theories.

Schizo-affective disorder and DID are directly related to the urge, which I consider somewhat of an external force.

It influences him, but it's more of an environmental factor imo, so I don't really take it into account.

Though I'm not going to lie, given his age when Bhaal first took over and the amount of trauma he's been through, he was a perfect candidate for developing DID as a kid.

Psychopathy, on the other hand, is worth looking into.

It's technically labeled under "ASPD", which is short for Antisocial Personality Disorder and can be loosely split into sociopathy and psychopathy.

As far as I know, sociopathy is traumagenic and psychopathy is genetic, though these definitions change as psychiatry progresses.

Now, can Durge be considered psychopathic from a genetic point of view, since he's literally made of Bhaal's blood?

If the lore doesn't fail me, Durge starts off as a regular child in spite of his bloodline, and only started manifesting murderous behaviour after getting roped in the cult via the Urge pushing him to slaughter his foster family.

There have been many (futile) attempts at resisting, such as the whole paladin thing you discover when playing an Oathbreaker!Durge, and stuff like the "giving gold to the homeless" episode Sceleritas Fel mentions.

It seems like it took quite a bit of convincing and "forcibly shoving [Durge] into religious submission" to get him to comply with the Urge, so I wouldn't say antisocial behaviour is innate to him.

ASPD is basically a given at this point, but I lean more towards sociopathy (a "learned" trauma response) rather than psychopathy.

Weirdly enough, I've never seen anyone mention NPD given he does have a God complex, but is it really a God complex if you are an actual demigod?

However I had to scrap this theory myself, because grandiosity is not exclusive to NPD (it is quite common in ASPD), and there isn't a lot of "admiration seeking" behaviour on his part given the little canon info we have.

Except towards his Father.

So we do see a desperate struggle for validation, but it's not a "worship me" issue, rather a "forgive/accept me" one.

The constant search for confirmation of someone's love, longing for the absolute certainty they're not going to "abandon" you or reject you, and frequent feelings of dread over the smallest doubt – are closer to BPD than any other disorder we previously mentioned.

Now, we're talking about an evil cult, so this kind of relationship between a faithful and their God isn't unheard of.

What makes it so different? The fact that the God I mentioned is actually his father.

And not only that, but a father who literally abandoned him at birth and later slaughtered his adoptive family, while justifying it as a demonstration of love and a test of faith.

I find it horrifying how, throught the game, Sceleritas Fel reminds you of how much Bhaal "loves" Durge as an excuse for the acts he forces him to commit.

Kill Isobel? Well done, Father loves you and got you a gift!

Reject Bhaal? Bhaal guilt trips you, accuses you of being ungrateful and reminds you of "everything he's done for [Durge]".

This kind of twisted, parasocial relationship is exclusive to Bhaal and his literal son.

He wouldn't do this for any other faithful, and Orin is living proof of that.

Speaking of Orin, we can clearly see how much she despises Durge and openly threatens him in her letters, compared to the oddly paternal way he addresses her.

The way Durge refers to her as a "little sister" in his letters, then proceeds to harshly criticize her and tear apart her entire worldview, is VERY telling and also deeply disturbing.

At the same time, the narrator implies Orin was able to attack Durge because he didn't believe she would ever do such a thing, and the whole thing is canonically referred to as a "betrayal".

My brother in Christ, take off the idealization glasses, she literally TOLD you she wanted to kill you.

Not to mention the ambivalence in his how he describes Gortash in his letters, switching between admiring his genius and referring to him as a "supposed chosen", highlighting how laughable and squalid Gortash looks in Durge's eyes.

I won't go in depth about the textbook symptoms of ASPD because it's pretty self explanatory in his case, however I will go in depth about textbook BPD:

• Feelings of emptiness (the narrator puts major emphasis on this during his Origin run)

• Emotional instability

• Paranoia and disturbed patterns of thinking

• Impulsivity

• Difficulty controlling anger

• Intense but unstable relationships (Orin, Gortash, Bhaal himself, the fact Ketheric Thorm dislikes Durge and no actual reason is given for this in-game)

• Frantic idealization and demonization of loved ones and people in general, also known as "splitting" ^

• Desperate attempts to prevent real or imagined abandonment

• Subconsciously choosing a specific person to latch onto and direct the majority of symptoms towards, also known as "favourite person" – usually a romantic partner, close friendship or a family member. One can latch onto more than one FP, though it's less common ^

• Unstable self image (ranges from self idealization to violent self hatred) and internalized feelings of shame/failure – which the narrator, his character intro AND the letters clearly show.

Needless to say, ASPD and BPD are an extremely common comorbidity.

The amnesia MIGHT be enough to spare him C-PTSD, at the very least.

But that's it.

I'm done yapping.

I would love to see a psychiatrist or something do a psychoanalysis on Gale, Astarion, and Durge. What disorders burden thee?

[amphibifish]

sorry to my friends who just got a fuckin essay on rod from avenue q that i don't think says anything

[angelpuns]

50au Part 22

“Sooooooooo, Raphael,  right? Where'd you all get your names, anyway?” Leo asked, leaning a little too far into Raph’s space. 

Once Mikey and Donnie had set out on their ingredient-hunt, Raph had helped Leo to the TV room to watch a movie. And instead of watching Leo was asking him questions. 

“ cause they're a little too matchy-matchy to mine, ya know? Makes this whole thing seem like total bullshit,” 

Raph sighed, not daring to look at Leo right now. He was still working on…on being present when it came to hanging out with Leo. It wasn't that he didn't want to hang around his little brother, just sometimes if he looked at him too long he started thinking about…the krang. And nearly killing him. 

And now he got to add the ‘ watch him almost bleed out’ and ‘remember holding him down and tranquilizing him’ to the mix, which was making it really, really hard to not let his mind drift off. 

Because he really, really needed to keep an eye on Leo. Donnie had mentioned that even he didn't know if Leo was faking or not, and that he could try and make a run for it. 

Fucked up leg or not. 

Just when things were getting better for them. For him. Just when Raph and Leo were starting to be normal around each other again, everything seemed to blow up.

“ Pops named us, that's why they match. He was goin' through a super weird art history phase back then, had a buncha random books about it,” He answered, sighing. Raph knew he shouldn't ask at the risk of it making him upset, but he needed to know, “if Pops wasn't there, how'd you get your name?”

Leo leaned out of his space with a laugh, “I was watchin' Romeo and Juliet and thought he was pretty. But Romeo didn't fit me, so I took the actor's name instead,” 

Raph couldn't help but laugh, that sounded like something Leo would do. It was kind of a relief to know that even though his memories didn't have any family, he was the same old Leo. 

“ Sounds like somethin' you'd do, yeah,” He snorted, “once a middle child, always a middle child,” 

“ Yeah, well, I was actually an only child, soooo” Leo shrugged. 

Raph didn't day anything about that. He didn't know what to say. Obviously Leo didn't really believe them, and Raph sure as hell wasn’t gonna be able to convince him. Even Mikey couldn't convince him. 

They were quiet for a while, before Raph finally spared a glance at his brother. 

Leo looked tired. He was watching the movie, but his eyes kept fluttering closed before opening again with a start. Even when he was relaxing against the arm of the couch, Raph could see the tension in his arms and legs. Like he might need to run at any second. It made Raph's chest ache and that persistent fog on the edge of his brain start Creeping in. His little brother was scared  of him. 

As he should be, though. Raph seemed unable to do anything but hurt him, after all. 

“ Didn't sleep well?” He rumbled, instead of spewing all the bullshit that was building up in his head. This wasn't a good idea either, he knew that, but it was better than sitting in silence watching Leo be scared of him. 

Leo glanced over, shrugging a little and fixing his expression into something less exhausted and more neutral. 

“ Eh, but I don't sleep well normally anyway,” He started, opening his mouth to say more and then shutting it again. 

“ yeah, I know. You didn't sleep a ton right after the- “ Raph cut himself off. It was probably not a good idea to bring that up. He didn't want to make Leo even more scared or panic by talking about it. 

He'd gotten better about it in the last couple of months. They all had. But it felt like all progress was out the door on the face of this curse. 

Leo sighed, “...yeah. Had a lot of… a lot of nightmares..” 

Raph swallowed. He really, really didn't want to talk about this. But maybe this would help Leo feel…safe. He didn't know. It felt like the wrong choice to make,but Raph had never been known for making the best choices, even before the invasion. 

“You had one last night?” he murmured, “ That why you were watchin’ the camera light?”

Leo pulled his legs up to his chest, wincing a little when he pulled the injured one up, “ ….yeah. I guess it looked kinda like..when I was stuck in the…well, I guess you know,” 

“ Yeah. I know,” Raph murmured. 

It was quiet again for a moment, the sound of a Lou Jitsu fight playing on the screen, cheesy sound effects and all. 

He cleared his throat. He was going to regret this, but Leo didn't seem anymore tense than before. 

“ You had a nightmare the second day, too,” He murmured, “ that's why Donnie's set up all these crazy precautions and stuff. We didn't want you gettin' scared and runnin' away again…gettin’ hurt bad again,” 

Leo was looking at him. He wasn't looking st his brother, but he could see Leo's gaze on him in his peripherals. Raph couldn’t tell what expression he was making, but he hoped it wasn't scared. He didn't want to see Leo scared anymore. 

“ …oh. Right. That makes sense..” Leo murmured, “ you guys didn't mention that in the video, I- I didn't know that happened….”

“ um…” 

Raph didn't move. Leo put a hand on his arm, “ Look, I'm real sorry about running before…i mean, I really wanted to rjn in this morning, don't get me wrong, but…maybe…i mean this makes some sense, ya know?”

Raph blinked. It was one of the only genuine apologues he'd heard coming from Leo. And he was totally lucid, unlike after the invasion when he'd- 

Don't think about that, Raph. Don't thjk about that right noe. 

“ H-hey, that's okay. I mean, I'da been scared and run off, too,” Raph chuckled, “  a big guy like me comin' in and wakin' you up after a nightmare, I mean, it'd scare anyone”

Leo chuckled and gave him a little pat, “You’re not scary, Raph. From what I can tell, you're just a big ole softie,” 

Leo yawned, stretching his arms up and relaxing back into the cushions, “ I'll bet you wouldn't hurt a fly” 

Raph had been so happy and relieved to hear the first statement that the second one hit like a ton of bricks. He was going to be sick. 

If only Leo knew. If only he knew what Raph had done. Both when he was under the influence of the krang and when he wasn't. Leo would be so scared of him. He should be so scared of him. 

Raph felt like he couldn't move. Not a muscle. He couldn't move or else he'd break whatever trust Leo had in him because if he moved, Leo would know. He'd know to be afraid of Raph. He'd know he wasn't safe like this, not with Raph. 

So he didn't. He sat there and stared through the projector screen, afraid to move or think or breathe. Afraid to even look at Leo again. 

And eventually, Leo scooted closer and closer, sleepily burying his face in his arm and murmuring that he trusted him. He trusted Raph. And that he was just going to take a little nap if that was okay.

Raph didn't move a muscle.

---

I feel like I'm maybe not as good at writing Raph POV so this was interesting to do. I just find his POV difficult cause I having practiced it as much is all.

Anyway he's got a lot of conflicted feelings cause on one hand he wants Leo to trust him more than anything but on the other all he's done lately is hurt Leo and Leo doesn't even KNOW.

Anyway enjoy, I'm queuing this and I will add links later cause I'm sleepy

Part 1 | Part 21 | Part 23

[cyfics]

——-

Title: Izuku’s Bravery! (Bunny Hybrid)

Warning(s): NSFW!, Aged up!, Hybrid, Bunny Izuku, pussy drunk Izuku

Pairing: Bunny Hybrid! Izuku x fem reader

Pronouns: she/her AFAB

Synopsis: A chapter from my story “Day Job” on AO3

Word count: 1.6K !!

Note: Everyone is aged up!

On aO3 as Cyfics btw

————-

You had a whole day of sleeping soundly until you were woken up by the sounds of people shouting. You covered your ears and rolled over trying to get a few more minutes of sleep but were unable, they were just too noisy for you.

You stamped down the stairs looking for what the problem was, eyeing Katsuki who was seemingly screaming at everyone for no good reason “What’s going on here?” You asked the boys. “Nothing! Don’t worry about it Y/n!” Denki waved you off, “I agree! Nothing to worry about!” Eijiro agreed.

“You!- come here.” Katsuki grabbed Denki and slammed him into a wall, causing Denki to become dizzy and fall on his butt. “You’ve done enough Katsuki, don’t you see how our disagreement has disturbed lady Y/n?” Shoto asked him.

“Disturbed? She’s disturbed? I’m disturbed! Disturbed at the amount of bullshit you three have been spewing at me!” Katsuki shouted “what’s wrong, Katsuki?” You asked him directly “really it’s nothing! Don’t even worry your pretty head Y/n!” Eijiro begged of you.

Katsuki continued to shout at the others, the noise starting to get to you a little. Izuku’s ears perked up as he turned towards you, jumping over the couch to come up and comfort you.

All noises were drowned out as Izuku approached you and covered your ears, taking you back upstairs.

Izuku took you to his burrow, which was practically his room but filled with tons of comfort items like pillows and fuzzy blankets. Izuku guided you to sit on his bed, his hands coming off of your ears. You could still faintly hear the disturbance happening downstairs but it wasn’t as bad as before now.

“Izuku, you saved me.. eh?” You asked the smaller boy “why wouldn’t I? You’ve been nothing but good to us.. and I’ve promised your dad that I’d take care of you!” Izuku straightened his back and looked up to the sky with a brooding look on his face.

You smiled softly at him, admiring his bravery. The Izuku you first met surely wouldn’t have done this for you, you thought to yourself. You felt a light blush rush to your cheeks “Thank you Izuku, you were very brave doing that.” You smiled to yourself.

“Me? Brave? S-Surely not..” Izuku bashfully looked away, trying to hide his red cheeks with his bunny ears. “You can’t shy away from me Izuku! Am I flustering you?” You teased him “yes! A lot actually!” Izuku whined.

“You’ve grown since the time I first saw you at my house, and I’m so proud of you..” you spoke up “you are?” Izuku’s voice became slightly shaken. You could tell he had some sort of effect on him from your words.

“I admire you Izuku, out of everyone you’ve changed the most.” You grabbed his face and kissed his cheek “G-Gah!” Izuku yelped and bounced back “I’m so sorry Izuku- I wasn’t thinking!” You defended yourself.

“Y-You kissed my cheek! Why?” Izuku’s entire face was tomato red, his soft hands grabbing and pulling at his fuzzy ears. “To show affection- What you did for me was very kind.” You stepped off the bed to reach for his face again, this time he leaned into it.

“Y/n- I like you!” Izuku perked up suddenly, clenching his tiny fists “You do?” You questioned “Yes! Like a lot! Everyday I’m plagued with thoughts by you and not the normal kind that a friend has!” Izuku admits quite suddenly.

“What kind of thoughts do you have?” Your thumb brushes his cheek “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to say!!” Izuku refused profusely “I-it was a bad idea to even confess to you! I’m so sorry-“ you interrupted him with a hug.

“You’re not the first out of the boys to confess to me, but I love everyone just the same.. including you, I love you Izuku.” You moved your head to give his soft lips a quick smooch.

“I- I love you more.” Izuku stammered.

Izuku took charge and leaned in once more, lips capturing yours in a tight yet passionate kiss. You were slightly shocked, not expecting the small bunny to have such passionate kissing skills. But I guess that rabbits have their own saying for a reason.

You kissed him back , trying to match his amount of passion he shared with you. Izuku’s arms lowered to be around your waist, squeezing your body with his arms. “I-Izuku!” You gasped, “I want you.. more than everyone else does!” Izuku proclaimed out loud.

“I want you too!” You admitted, allowing the shorter boy to toss you back onto his bed. The soft blankets cushioning your fall, the bed itself making you feel like you were in some doughy heaven. Izuku pounced on top of you, his hips slightly swaying as he was eyeing you down.

“Izuku, my gorgeous boy..” you couldn’t help complimenting him with the way he looked, his cute face looking down at you like that. From this angle you could see the amount of freckles that covered his face, you could see the slight eye-bags the boy was getting, you could even notice the slight hair growing around his face.

“Please.. let me admire you better than everyone else, let me show you how better I am..” Izuku pleaded as he began to straddle your body with his hips, his arms either side of your shoulders. Your arms were up against the bed, you felt in the moment like you were some kind of prey!

“Of course Izuku, please take me..” you whimpered. Izuku’s ears twitched, taking in the sound of your slight whines, the noises making a very obvious tent in his pants. Izuku lowered his hips down so you could feel his bulge up against you, rubbing up against you quite slowly.

You couldn’t help letting a gasp out “I-Izuku! You feel-“ you couldn’t allow yourself to finish that dirty sentence. “Y/n, love, have you ever heard of the saying?” Izuku asked you “what saying?” You asked him. Not too sure what he was even talking about.

“The saying, to fuck like rabbits. Now- I’m not a rabbit, but I can for sure fuck like one.” You watched as his bright green eyes darkened a significant amount, the shyness he had before leaving him in the moment.

You couldn’t get a word in as Izuku immediately stripped you, his eyes gazing upon you for moments before he continued to discard more and more of your clothing. In the end you were left in just your underwear.

“For me.” Izuku lowered himself between your legs, kissing your thighs gently before giving the skin a slight nibble. Your legs moved on their own, parting themselves to give Izuku access to your core.

Izuku leaned in, his little nose sniffling at the fabric before giving a satisfied hum “smells so good.. you smell so good..” Izuku’s tail began to wag intensely. Izuku’s hands immediately looped under the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down excitedly.

Izuku was eager to please but also eager to breed, he got off of you and hurriedly took off his own clothes; his shirt falling to the floor and his pants following with. The two of you were naked, both breathless with the sight of each other.

Izuku bounced back onto you, spreading your legs and rubbing his cock up against your folds. “Ready?” He asked you “J-Just make sure to pull out- none of that breeding stuff!” You explained hastily.

Izuku wasted no more time, slipping inside of you and rocking him hips eagerly. His dick curved in the right places, brushing up against your most sensitive spots “h-Hah..” you moaned out.

“You feel so good, so tight..” Izuku commented as his hips snapped up against yours. Izuku hummed to himself before quickly grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over, moving you into his own wanted position.

He moved your ass up, pressing your back down against the bed to force you into an arch. “Izuku! What’re you doing?” You were slightly confused on the way he was just manhandling you, none of the other hybrids was like this at all!

Izuku’s dick slid deeper inside of you, the feeling making an aching in your stomach. You were suddenly very aware on just how big he was, his cock now edging against the deepest part of you. His dick was causing a pain in your stomach, but you couldn’t help but admit just how good it felt too.

Your legs were shaking, slightly kicking every time Izuku thrusted deeper and deeper “Fuck- excuse my language Y/n, I’m sorry love.. I think I’m gonna cum..” Izuku rolled his head back and groaned. He began to go faster, thrusting into you at a high speed pace.

“Feels so good! Ma-Make sure to pull out!” You warned him, Izuku listened and quickly removed his cock. He jerked his dick for a moment or two before spilling cum onto your back. The feeling was very warm, and you knew you had to wipe it off before it dried and left a horrible feeling on your skin.

Izuku took liberty for you, using one of his many fluffy blankets to wipe the cum up. “I noticed you haven’t came, would you like me to go again?” Izuku asked happily with a slight excitement. Your legs gave out on the bed and you rolled to your side “I-I’m so tired.. been fucked..” you couldn’t even finish your words properly.

At the end of this you hadn’t even realised that the fight had ended, it had ended a while ago actually. Now would be a good time to possibly go back downstairs and talk to Katsuki?

But then again you’re not even sure if you’re mentally alright right now, you’re pretty sure Izuku’s dicking had fucked you silly.

[carlsangel]

BACK OFF

carl grimes x fem!reader

(ron makes you uncomfortable, carl comes to your rescue.)

tags: i really don’t know o-o

masterlist here!

“Seriously I don’t get why we have to come to this, what’re we even gonna do here?” You complain, walking beside Rick and Carl on your way to Deanna’s house. Carl looks at you, unsure of what to say as he adjusts Judith in his arms. “Well, they’re tryna be nice…and welcoming I suppose. We’re gonna be polite and say thank you. We’re lucky to be here.” Rick responds.

All of this seriously confused you. I mean, a couple of days ago, you guys were all on the road and sleeping on the floor of a barn that smelt like horse shit. How were you meant to go from that, to going to a house party in a normal house, with normal people, in a normal community? It’s just simply not possible. Not in the world you live in.

You accept what Rick says and just leave it at that. You enter Deanna’s home to the intimidating sound of loud chatter. You were expecting people to harass you with tons of questions about your past and how you wound up here with the group. Things about your family you wished to forget.

Deanna walks over to greet you guys and she grabs Judith from Carl’s arms, freeing his hand to hold yours. He gives a gentle squeeze as Deanna makes pointless small talk that’ll later be forgotten. You notice that Maggie and Glenn are already there which makes you feel somewhat better. You’re pulled from your thoughts when Carl begins to walk further into the house, to the kitchen.

“C’mon I saw someone with lemonade.” He says with a smile. You smile too at how sweet he was, how excited he got over something as simple as lemonade. You follow him through the crowded home and stop at the island with pitchers of random beverages. He grabs you both a cup and pours the lemonade into them. You stare around the room, studying everything you see. Every exit, every person, everything.

“Here.” He hands you the glass and notices how intently you’re looking at everything. “Are you okay?” He asks, pushing the cup closer to you. You snap out of whatever trance you were in and grab the glass. “Yeah I’m fine.” You give him a small smile. He could tell you were spewing bullshit. He knew you well, I mean you’re best friends. You wished you were more than that; he did too.

“Look this place is real. I know it’s hard to accept…I barely have myself.” He explains. “But everything is finally gonna be okay.” You nod, taking in his advice when you hear someone arrive to the house. You and Carl walk into the hallway and look towards the end of it, noticing Jessie and her family had arrived. You’d met Ron earlier and he seemed relatively normal. Minus his odd remarks.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a girl show up at the gates. We’re glad you’re here.” He told you. Who says that? You saw him as he entered and your nose sort of wrinkles. Rick walks over to the both of you and instructs Carl to find Judith and to pry her from whatever strangers arms she was in. You watch as he walks away and your heart immediately sinks. You walk back into the kitchen to hide and you stand by the island sort of just looking around.

“There you are.” You turn to be met by Ron. Great.

“Oh…hi?” You respond as he walks over to grab a glass. “Is that lemonade?” He asks pointing at your cup. Your eyebrows knit together in annoyance; it’s the only yellow beverage on the counter. “Yes.” You respond shortly. He notices how short you’re being but doesn’t really take it as a hint to leave you the fuck alone, but rather a sign to keep going. “Sooo you didn’t talk much back at my house. I was hopin to get to know you more.” He explains. You turn to look at him and drink from your cup, not exactly sure what he wants to hear from you.

“Well what about your family?” He scoots a little closer to you. “M-my family?” You mutter. “Yeah your family. I assume they’re no longer with us…I mean that’s how it is now, right?” He states, you begin to slowly inch away from him. How is this any of his business? You begin to feel increasingly uncomfortable. “I’m just saying, I know how you feel. Before all this, I lost an uncle of mine. So if you need to chat at all, I’m here.” He places his hand on the small of your back, causing you to pull away from him completely. He puts his hand up in the air defensively. Before you know it, his shoulder is pushed back a little, and Carl now has his attention.

“C’mon man just back off her a little okay?” He says relatively politely. Ron laughs a little and shrugs. “I was just tryna help.” Carl scoffs. “I think she’s fine without your help.” He replies. Ron looks between the both of you for a moment and sort of laughs to himself. “You’re together aren’t you?” A smug grin forms on his face. Like he knows anything. “No, but that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re clearly weirding her out.” You place your cup down on the counter, getting ready to head out as soon as possible.

“How am I making her uncomfortable? All I’m doing is trying to help her. That’s all.” Carl rolls his eyes. You could sense that this wouldn’t end well. “Help her? That involves touching?” He remarks. He pushes past him and grabs your hand, leading you out of the kitchen and the situation. He leads out outside to the empty porch. You shiver a little at the sudden breeze of cold air that passed through. Carl noticed of course, he notices everything about you. He takes his flannel off and hands it to you.

“What about you?” You ask, taking it from his hands. He shrugs. “You matter more.” He gives you a small smile. You put the flannel on and you both lean against the railings of the house silently. He’s the first to speak up. “Sorry I wish there for you earlier.” You can see him overthink. You shake your head in response, “No don’t apologize. He didn’t get very far thanks to you.” You giggle. He smiles at that and nods.

You look off into the distance for a moment silently, your hands gently resting on the rails. After a moment you can feel his hand over yours. You’re glad to have someone like him. Someone who actually cares.

You can tell you’ll be more than friends very soon.

a/n: erm this was ass and i’m sorry about it :/ yall idk how to write endings and i know that’s prevalent IM SORRY rhrjrbtjfbfngn anyway i actually like ron and really think he’s a misunderstood character butttt THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE :>

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 2.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I'm so glad the first one was well received! I'm pretty self-concious about my writing, but seeing everyone's hearts and reblogs has made me so happy! There's also been a ton of new people following this page, and I'm so appreciative you guys are liking my stuff enough to keep up to date with my writing <3.

Word Count is 5,427. Hope you enjoy!

"What the hell was that?" You knew that this made you look like a crazy girlfriend, dragging your significant other into the cold room and locking the door behind you. You'd gotten a few curious and slightly concerned glances from other staff, but by this point they knew better than to intervene. White fog spewed from your mouth as you spoke, giving you the appearance of a mighty dragon ready to burn down anyone who stood in her way.

Sanji, who hadn't fought you the entire way here, rubbed his face with his hand and shoved the other into his pocket. "I was just trying to be friendly." He shrugged.

A cold breeze caused you to flinch, but you refused to show any weakness. "Bullshit." You hissed and gritted your teeth, unable to fathom this man's arrogance. "I'm not dumb, Sanji-"

"And I never said you were." Both hands were now in his pockets and he finally met your gaze. He looked tired and you could tell he was chewing on the inside of his cheek - a habit you knew stemmed from his nicotine addiction. But his forced eye contact didn't last long and his gaze soon drifted to the corner of the cold room. He let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry. I can't help what I say to women-"

You held up a hand. "I don't care about you miserably failing at flirting. Well, I do care, but that's beside the point." You took a breath, counted to five and stared at your boyfriend's beautiful blue eyes. "I know that you're upset, and though I am very annoyed at you, I will say that I appreciate you telling me you're sorry."

"So it is about the-"

"Sanji." He slowly closed his mouth and subtly nodded. He was listening. "I know that you like women, and that you'll move heaven and earth for one to glance your way. I know that. I knew that when I started going out with you." You licked your suddenly dry lips. "What I get upset about, is that you went over my head and spoke to my customers in a rather vulgar way. I know you think it's beneath you, but I take a lot of pride in what I do. I'm good at it. And when-" God, your lips were so dry. "And when you go over my head, take over my table, insult the place that took me in when I had nowhere else to go-when we had nowhere else to go, and then ignore my discomfort and make a joke of it?" You met his eyes. "I am your girlfriend, Sanji. Something that you're meant to love and cherish- like how- I can't-"

Before you realised it, you found yourself slowly enveloped by the love of your life. "Hey," He shushed you gently as he cradled you against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way." He murmured and placed a kiss against your temple. "My love, you're shaking. I didn't realise I made you this upset. Please, forgive me."

You couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just cold, dumbass. And still pissed at you." Despite what you said, you still buried your head in his chest and soaked up his warmth. It was then you realised how long it'd been since the two of you had been alone like this. Just soaking up each other's warmth and committing the other's smell, touch and the feel of their skin to memory. You're embarrassed to admit you forgot just how much you love his cologne. "Guess this is what happens when we don't have sex for a while."

He gave a breathy chuckle and leaned back enough just to press his lips against your forehead and stare into your eyes. "Well, I'd offer to remedy that, but I'm afraid the cold will affect my performance."

"Like you need an excuse for a bad performance."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

His usual, charming smile stretched across his face and he licked his lips, before hungrily diving in and punishing you with a particularly brutal kiss. He softly moaned into the kiss, and pulled back enough for you to see the devilish look in his eye as he bent down to press a kiss to your neck.

The door suddenly flung open and Pattie groaned. "I should've known." He exclaimed and threw his towel at the both of you. "Move. I'm trying to get some stuff for dessert."

Sanji grew a wicked grin. "What a coincidence. I'm trying to get me some dessert too." He chuckled and moved in to continue his assault, but was thwarted by an incoming barrage of hits from the disgruntled chef.

Backed by the sound of Pattie yelling in disgust, you laughed and shook your head, worming out of Sanji's hold and skipping out of the cold room with said blond on your heels. You both quickly ducked out of the kitchen and into a small hallway where you turned around to look at him once more. "Thank you for listening to me, Sanji. I may have blown my lid a bit too much back there." You fished around in your pocket and pulled out your lighter. "Go take a smoke break."

"Darling-"

You pushed it into his hand. "Take a break, and have a smoke. If not for you, for me. Because I honestly can't handle you when you're being all bitchy."

His shoulders dropped and a tired smile replaced his worried expression. He wrapped his hands around your own and placed a kiss against your knuckles. "Thank you, my love." He exclaimed and you waved him off with a smile.

"Whatever, you wallowing wag. While you're walking, watch the weather and water, and warn the workers if we're wayward. We don't want any wild winds, or another wreck this week."

He smiled. "You still don't realise you do that, do you?"

You blinked. "Do what?"

A hearty chuckle escapes him and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it." That damn smile of his made your heart flutter and while you were confused, you returned his kiss with a quick peak of his lips and watched as he walked off. You didn't understand why he was so weird, but you guess it's just part of dating someone.

Before you could go back to serving, a faintly familiar face poked his head around the corner. You squinted your eyes and watched as he walked around aimlessly. "Excuse me, are you lost?"

The boy in the straw hat turned his head in your direction and smiled when he noticed you. "Oh! You're (Y/N), our waitress!" He spun himself around and hastily walked up to you, almost tripping on the aging floorboards. "I didn't get to introduce myself," He tipped his hat. "My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I'm going to be King of the Pirates!"

That made you pause. "Oh." You dumbly said, not really sure how to respond. "That's... nice. But this is a staff only area-"

"You're a good fighter." The boy- Luffy you corrected yourself, interrupted and leaned in uncomfortably close. "Well, Sanji's a really good fighter, but you're pretty good too!" He made a pistol with his fingers and pretended to shoot. "You seem good with a gun. And the way you backed up Sanji and knocked that guy out? So good!"

Again, you weren't really sure how to respond. "I was only helping out, but thanks, I guess." You put your hands on your hips. "Is there something I can help you with?"

He tilted his head in confusion. "No, I'm fine."

You blinked. "But you're in a staff only area."

He nodded. "I am."

"...And you know you're not a staff member?"

He shook his head. "I'm not."

You sighed and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "I mean, why are you here?"

A smile returned to his face. "Oh, why didn't you just say so!" He waved his hand around as if announcing something great. His eyes wandered around the room, as if searching for something in the distance. You were intrigued. "I'm trying to find..."

You leaned in. "You're trying to find...?"

"Yes, I am trying to find..." His eyes slowly drifted downward until they met yours. They sparkled with great mysteries waiting to be unveiled, a sense of adventure and bravery and fearlessness that you couldn't help but admire. He smiled. "A toilet!"

Before you could stop yourself, you smacked him upside the head. "Don't pretend like it's some big, life-altering explanation, you dumbass!" With each word, you brought your hand down to slap him on any part of his body you could touch. "Besides, there's three signs for the bathroom on the way here!"

He held up his hands, trying to block your attacks. "Ow! I'm sorry! Stop hitting me!"

You rolled your eyes and stepped back, crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You're such an idiot. Fine, come with me. You can use the staff bathroom, it's right down this hall."

Luffy slowly uncurled himself and nodded. "Thanks a lot! I was sure I was going to crap my pants, you're a life saver!"

"I didn't need to know that." You sighed and beckoned him to follow with a finger. "So, King of the Pirates, huh?"

He nodded, his straw hat bobbing with him as you both walked. "Yep! We have a map to the Grand Line, and we're going to find the One Piece."

You laughed. "Only idiots with a death wish go after that thing."

"Hm, not really. I don't have a death wish." He replied with a shrug.

With a dramatic sigh, you playfully shove him. "Sure you don't, straw boy. What's next? You're gonna tell me you don't plunder and raid villages wherever you go?"

He shook his head. "We don't."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Don't yet?"

He shook his head again. "No."

"Fine then, where are you going to get money?"

"Finding the One Piece will give us all the money we'll ever need."

"And until then?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure something out."

You scoffed. "They always say that."

He tilted his head. "Do you know?"

"I do. You can kidnap a princess and random her, rob an orphanage, maybe even take a business hostage and demand money or you'll start executing patrons."

Luffy stopped and stared at you. "That's really dark."

You shrugged and continued walking. "That's what you have to do if you want to find a crazy man's last fuck-you to the government."

His smile turned into a frown. "You don't think it's real?"

"I think that Gold Rodger wanted to bring about the age of pirates, and he did." You explained. "Doesn't matter if it's real or not. Its impact on the world is more valuable than any treasure he ever got his hands on."

Within a second, he was in front of you with a cheeky grin. "Ah ha! So you do think it's real!"

A sigh escaped you. "I honestly don't care enough to believe if it's real or not. What is real is the pain, and death it's caused. Nations tearing each other and themselves apart just to find a glimpse of a shred of evidence that horrid thing is real. And men setting sail and abandoning everything just because they think finding a gold chest is worth losing their family over. Then those same men kill other men with families just like theirs, spreading their filth and disease to every home, town and village just because they can't stand the thought of a man doing the right thing by taking care of his family."

Luffy tilted his head. "You sound like you care a lot."

A tense silence filled the air and you stared at this strange, but oddly charming character. So innocent, so naive. He had no idea of the world you knew, the one that you grew up in. It's rare to find someone this optimistic, or sheltered. You pointed behind him. "Bathroom's there. Leave when you're done."

To say that you were affected by his words would've been both an understatement, and a poor choice of phrasing. You weren't affected, per say. They rubbed you the wrong way, and brought up memories you would rather just forget. It didn't help that they ordered one of everything on the menu, and you were constantly bringing out dishes to a smiling, unbothered Luffy who just shoveled food into his mouth. It was actually really impressive, and you were glad that they didn't come last week when the Baratie did that eating competition. You're pretty sure you probably would've gone out of business.

With a perfectly manufactured smile, you set down the plate of ribs on the only available space between piles of plates and stacked glasses. "And this is the final dish - our limited-time French-Style Ribs braised in red wine and cranberry." You straightened up and the plate was instantly pulled towards the centre of the table. The man in the pirate attire groaned, but he shoved a rib in his mouth and moaned. "I hope everything's been to your satisfaction. Can I get anything else for you tonight? A refill perhaps?"

The orange-haired woman smiled. "We're fine for now, thanks." With a nod, you turned to leave. "When does the bar close?"

"It's open all night, but we do a deep clean around three to four in the morning. So you may not be able to get anything on tap, but prepackaged drinks are always available." The words flowed off your tongue like a rehearsed speech, probably because it was. She smiled and nodded her thanks, before turning back to the conversation they were in. As you walked away, you spotted a certain red-haired pig-tail wearing waitress near the till. "Macy."

Said waitress flinched and slowly turned to you. "Yes, Ma'am?"

More than a little annoyed, you walked up to her and lent against the counter. "Why are you at the till?" She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying and failing to start a proper sentence until you stopped her with a hand. "Macy, there was one rule; don't touch the till. What are you doing right now?"

She paused. "Touching the till?"

You nodded. "Good job, you got something right." With a small glare, you pushed past her and looked at the total that she was charging, then compared it to the bill laying on the countertop. "Unless they've agreed to add a ฿65 tip on top of your 10%, I guess we've just found out who's been messing with the till."

"I-"

"You're done for the night." Her shocked expression turned into a bitter snarl and she began to tug at her apron. "Macy, you've got the body of a used fucking tube of toothpaste. No one wants to see you undress here, get the fuck out. You'll make the customers sick." She gasped, but you dismissed her with a wave and she stormed out of the restaurant. You sighed and opened the drawer beneath the counter, pulling out the book of paid receipts and bookings. Both luckily and unluckily, it was getting close to end-of-shift which meant that you had time to fix Macy's mess, but that the mess was probably smeared dog shit on a window at this point.

Grabbing out your pen and a calculator, you mentally prepared yourself for the long night ahead, when you felt something touch your back. "Hello, my darling." Sanji greeted with a kiss to the back of your neck, then rested his chin on your shoulder to watch what you were doing while his hand lazily stroked your side.

With a sigh, you turned your head to kiss him. "Hey, jerkface. Glad to see someone with a shred of intelligence." You greeted, then scribbled down some notes. "Someone's fucked the till again, and screwed the customers' out of at least three-hundred berri from what I can see."

His smile dropped and he reached for the book, tilting it so that he can see it. "Closer to five-hundred than anything. This table didn't even order the Lobster Thermidor, what the hell's going on."

You slammed your pen down in frustration and leaned back against him. "No idea, but I'm going to have to make some calls and refund tables." He wrapped his arm around your stomach and kissed the back of your ear which made you sigh and rub your face. "I need to make a list and figure out how much we fucked people out of money." You happened to look over at Luffy's table. They looked like they were toasting. "Can you bill them? It'd help a lot."

He smiled and took the piece of paper you had offered him. "Of course, my love. And give me a list of the rich pricks you want me to call. We'll divide and conquer."

"What did I do to deserve you?" You asked as he picked up the golden dish used to store cash.

"You, my love, didn't need to do anything." He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your lips, before turning around and walking over to do as you asked.

Turning back to your mammoth task, now with a smile, you picked up your pen again and started to scribble down the sum total of every receipt that was put in by Macy. It was a good call by Zeff to bar everyone else but yourself from accessing the till. It was pretty easy to differentiate your neat and straightforward ones from Macy's abominations, but it still didn't make it any less painful. The Baratie didn't even serve quiches, so why would she even put that in there?

The telltale sound of Sanji's shoes smacking against the floorboards broke your concentration, and you looked up confused. "That was fast-" You were interrupted by him flashing you what was on the bill. You frowned at his abrupt interruption, but then squinted and jolted back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "What the shit is a 'treasure tab'?"

"We're going to find out." He said with a smile and walked past you to the kitchen. This was going to be interesting.

Just as you thought, the kitchen door slammed open and Zeff's wide, intimating frame appeared in the doorway. "Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Luffy, sweet and innocent Luffy, popped his head out of his booth and waved his milkshake. "Here!" Zeff locked onto him and marched toward the young boy.

"You seem to be confused about the rules of the house," You and Sanji, who had just come out of the kitchen, exchanged knowing glances and you placed down your pen. Led by your boyfriend, you grabbed a jug of water while he grabbed a tray of complimentary scones and he slowly walked around the scene that was unfolding. "But Baratie doesn't offer credit. You eat, you pay." You both stopped at a nearby empty table. You started to examine the glasses in detail, admiring the way the light hit the material, while Sanji wiped the table with a piece of lettuce someone forgot to clean up.

Setting down his glass, Luffy looked up at Zeff. "I think you're confused." Sanji and you shared a look. "The meal has already been paid for. I just haven't given you the money yet."

Pretending to look around the room, you caught the stern, no-shits-given look Zeff was offering the kid. "Yeah, and how's that?"

Luffy smiled. "You can add it to my treasure tab."

You and Sanji snickered at the tone in Zeff's voice. "And what, pray tell, is that?"

"A way to get your ass beat." You mumbled and Sanji quietly shushed you with a smile, trying to hear the rest of what was being said.

Still not realising what's happening, Luffy kept talking. "I may not look like a big deal yet, but you're talking with the future King of the Pirates. And as soon as I find the One Piece, I'm gonna come back here, pay this bill in full, and with interest."

Zeff chuckled. "I got a better idea." And yanked Luffy out of his booth, dragging the confused pirate to the kitchen.

A sigh escaped you. "That certainly didn't disappoint." You commented and picked up Sanji's makeshift lettuce-rag, pocketing it to throw out later. "Guess we have a new busboy."

Sanji shook his head, but kept his eyes on the door. "Wouldn't be good at anything besides dishes." He said and paused for a second. You could see the metaphorical gears in his head turning, before he nodded toward the kitchen. "Hold on."

"Sanji, don't-" But it was too late, the love of your life had walked off, probably to rejoin the line. Your fists balled up and you let out a frustrated groan, your heels clicking as you followed after him. "Sanji! Don't piss him off. Sanji-"

The doors swung open as the blond barged in the kitchen with you on his heels. Your words fell on deaf ears and you rolled your eyes at Zeff who looked between you two confused. "Oy, oy. What do you think you're doing?"

You threw up your hands, but helped Sanji shrug off his coat. "I tried to stop him." You said as you wrapped his jacket around your arm and lent against the wall behind you.

The blond scoffed and held up a hand. "Com on, old man. Enough's enough-"

"Put the jacket back on, little Eggplant. You're not done with your shift yet." Zeff's face was tired and stern as always, and all you wanted to do was pull Sanji back and apologise for the extra stress. However, you knew that the two were stubborn and that would only cause more trouble than it's worth.

Sanji's tone suddenly sharpened. "Let me back on the line, or I walk." You almost said something, but considering you said something similar this afternoon, you settled for a glare.

"You can walk right back into the ocean for all I care. You cook another meal like that in my kitchen, it's going right where the last one did."

"You can kick me out of the kitchen all you like. I'll never be a waiter."

"Well that's fine by me, because you sure as hell are never gonna be a cook in my restaurant. Have you got that?"

Your heart broke seeing your boyfriend's face when he glanced over at you. He was so angry, and hurt, and upset. His hands were balled into fists, but you just shook your head. It wasn't worth it. His gaze shifted back to the man who had taken the both of you in, and then he turned heel, storming out of the kitchen via the hallway.

"So it was Macy, then?" When you nodded, Zeff sighed and held his face in his palm. The two of you were alone on the balcony overlooking the ocean. You were all on a thirty minute break before the next service, and you'd stumbled across the old man while trying to get some peace and quiet. The man you both admired and respected more than anyone was sat beside you tiredly rubbing his face. "And where is she now?"

You fought back what you really wanted to say, and simply shrugged, picking up your glass and taking a sip. "I sent her home for the night. Didn't want to see her fucking face, the red-haired bitch."

He shifted in his chair and leaned forward toward you, pointing a finger in your direction. "There is no talk like that in the Baratie."

You rolled your eyes and put your glass down. "It's not a big deal. Everyone here curses-"

"But you never use such vulgar language when talking about a woman." He said, his tone firm and leaving no room for arguing. "I always taught both you and that boyfriend of yours to never speak badly about, or to, a woman. Just because you're twenty-one now, doesn't mean a thing. Get that?" Ever since you were fifteen, he's drilled his way of life into your head. From scrubbing the decks every time you dropped food, to spending late nights learning the difference between the various cutlery the Baratie offered, it was almost like his life's mission to turn you into a mini-him. To this day, you couldn't eat salad with a table fork, even though the minute difference between a salad fork and a table fork were so inconsequential they were practically the same fucking thing.

You bit the inside of your lip. "Well that bitch-"

"Macy."

The condensation floating slowly down your glass seemed to be more interesting than his face. "Macy has ruined all the work I've done to make the Baratie a place where you can just sit down and enjoy a good meal with the best service around. You know, I've had to deal with so much shit. More than anyone in this goddamn place. All the harassment explained away as jokes and if I'm uncomfortable with it, I'm just 'not getting the joke'. And then having to spend hours listening to the most intolerable stories about slick, rich pricks with small dicks bitching about their toxic chicks with plastic tits. And expecting me to not spit or get sick when they talk about me like I'm some quick flick." You took a breath, counted to five, and licked your lips. "But it's not enough that she'll get away with it. You also won't let me complain about her."

He sighed. "She isn't going to get away with it." You scoffed and raised your glass to take another sip, but a hand under your chin guided your gaze to him. "Look at me." Hesitantly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. "She," He spoke slowly, his intense blue eyes piercing into mine in a way that made you feel small. "Is going to be dealt with." His hand released your chin and migrated upwards to rest atop your head, softly patting your head like he used to when you were younger. "You've done well, little Sprout." You sucked in a breath and nodded, but your pseudo-confidence wasn't fooling the old man. "And if any of these 'rich pricks with small dicks' ever bothers you again, tell me. Nothing is worth you being treated like a sack of shit over. Not the Baratie, not anything."

A fake chuckle wormed its way out of you, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Thanks, Dad."

A smile spread across his face and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in and pressing his lips to your forehead. Zeff smelled like a thousand scents, oregano, paprika, and a dash of vanilla extract, but his warm touch and the feeling of his scruffy beard against your scalp only felt like one thing: safe. You hadn't realised you closed your eyes until you felt him pull away. "Now then, I've got some calls to make."

With a groan, he got up to his feet. "Are you sure? My waitress, my mistake."

He shook his head. "My Baratie, my mistake." He walked past, patting you on the head as he left the balcony.

It was time to face your boyfriend, and you were dreading it. With his coat jacket wrapped over your arm, you slowly made your way down the hall to the kitchen. The doors were swinging slightly, so you knew that someone had just walked in, and you took a deep breath, walking over to the entrance - ready to go in.

"...banned from the line." You paused when you heard Sanji's voice float through the air.

"But that meal you cooked was incredible!"

A smile graced your face and you lent against the wall just beside the doors. "The True Bluefin Sauté?"

"Yeah!"

"You tried it?"

"Yeah, of course I did! I couldn't help myself. I didn't think the food here could get any better. You know, you're a really good cook. Why is Zeff making you wait tables?"

"'Cause he's jealous. I should be running this place, but the old man's so stubborn it'll never happen."

"So, that's your dream. To be head chef of the Baratie."

A pause. "I guess-"

"No, it's not." Both men looked up at you when you entered the double doors.

The other voice who you now realised was Luffy looked at you confused. "It's not?"

Sanji laughed breathlessly and looked at the table he was sitting at, flicking open his lighter and closing it again. "It's not." He confirmed. You smiled and walked over to where your boyfriend sat, draping his coat over an empty chair.

"So you love to cook. You just don't want to cook here?"

The blond grabbed out a cigarette and looked to you where you had taken up residence next to him. When you nodded, he ignited the lighter you gave him earlier and lit the end of his cigarette. He took a drag and hummed. "There's... this place," He started and his eyes drifted to yours. You both shared a small smile. "Where you can find ingredients from all four seas. East Blue, West Blue, North and South - they call it the All Blue. Nobody knows where it is, but..." His gaze lifts heavenward. "There's fish there that have never been seen. You know, rare seaweeds, spices that have never been tasted. It's a cook's paradise, and I'm gonna find it one day." He looked back at you and placed his hand over yours. "That's my dream."

Luffy's gaze was soft, but also intense. "If you want to cook, you should cook. Don't let some stubborn old man stand in the way of your dream." He smiled. "Stand up to him! Tell him what you want."

"It's more..." Sanji looked over at you. "Complicated, than that."

The young boy shrugged. "I don't really do complicated either."

You scoffed. "For someone who claims to be a pirate, you don't like a lot of things that pirates are known for."

Luffy looked at you. "For someone who doesn't like pirates, you sure do act like one."

Before you could say anything, frantic banging on the staff exit caught you all off guard. Begging for help, a man tumbled in and fell to the floor, barely having the strength to cling onto the countertop. On instinct, you went to pull out your gun but stopped when your boyfriend raised a hand to you and marched toward the man. Being the good Samaritan you certainly weren't, Sanji and Luffy helped him up onto a chair. "Are you okay?"

The man's voice sounded croaky and scratchy. "I'm so hungry, please."

Sanji nodded and moved to the stove. "Okay, you got it, man. How does some corned-beef fried rice sound?"

Pattie, appearing from his break, quickly stood up and followed after him. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded.

The blond didn't bother to look at him and you gave the pirate a warning look before moving to the fridge. "At Baratie, everyone eats." The love of your life explained as you rifled through the fridge for the ingredients he would need.

"And who's gonna pay for that? This is a business, we can't be giving handouts to every down-on-his-luck pirate that washes up."

"If a man is hungry, I feed him. Thank you, darling." He said when you handed him the beef.

Pattie looked at you for help, then back at him when you just shrugged. "Zeff kicked you off the line."

"Yeah, well, I don't see the old man here. Do you?"

The other chef looked at you once more, and you shrugged at him again. You both knew it was a losing battle, and so he waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, your funeral."

You couldn't keep your eyes off the strange pirate while he sat and ate, and explained what had happened to him. Sanji was way too nice a person for people like him to deserve. You knew pirates, and a part of you was tempted to hide the silverware.

"He's a good guy." Luffy, who was slowly becoming less and less of a pirate in your eyes, said and you nodded.

"Sanji's brilliant." The words came easily. "He's the kind of guy that only comes once a generation. He's a dumbass, sure, but he's a good dumbass."

He thought for a second, before turning to Sanji. "You know, if Zeff doesn't appreciate you, you should join my crew."

Your chair scraped as you stood and left the room.

A/N: I am genuinely loving writing this! As said above, I normally tend to leave the reader's backstory and personality ambiguous, but this character has just taken on a personality of her own! This one is a bit longer because I felt like there wasn't enough content in this upload to justify it. I wouldn't want to waste everyone's time with like, two conversations. I'm kinda happier with the longer/more in-depth parts because I get to spend more time building up characters and relationships, and I'm less tempted to accidentally write and spoil things that the OPLA fans haven't seen yet.

Also, I've grappled with the ages for a while now, and I've officially decided that this AU will have Sanji and (Y/N) be 21. Normally I'd leave the reader's age ambiguous, but since age is important to this story, it's needed to be put in there.

[pianocat939]

Ok this isn't my usual content, but like hear me out. And no, this isn't like anything character related-

Just think of it...as like a scenario to fill in ig Girlie I don't fucking know, I'm just spewing words

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of violence

Ok so imagine.

There's like this drive. We'll call it Chestnut drive.

Just a typical neighbourhood street.

And on the last house, there's a married couple.

The husband, is like some super scary, really cold guy. He hates the world except for maybe his own wife. And he's a monster too- *ahem he was a thug back in his school days* But he is a handsome fucker.

And then you got the wife. Who's really nice, and never has any problems. Honestly, she's the one usually having to hide her husband's crimes.

Enter MC, who's a single person, getting the first ever house. Which ended up being right next to theirs. Everybody else doesn't go near their house, because of the husband. And yet, MC is totally clueless and ends up watching their feral dog in their yard.

The wife notices first, and strikes up conversation. She's eager to have someone new to talk to. She bakes desserts sometimes, and constantly tries to offer them to MC.

Guess who she gushes all about MC to? That's right- her husband. At first he's like creeped out and even a little jealous. But after watching you through your living room window a few nights a week, he’s realized why she’s so intrigued.

He finds MC so cute, all alone in their house. With no one but themselves really. Maybe the occasional friend over. In a way, he starts to grow protective of them, just like how he is with his wife.

Meanwhile, the wife is just obsessed to have someone to talk to who isn’t terrified of her husband. She’s constantly giving affection she tries to pass it off as platonic when honestly it’s borderline romantic

Their conversations at dinner went from a bit mundane to just simply rambling about you. Wondering which bedroom you should take, or if they should expand theirs completely.

Soon they invite you over to their house often. Just for the occasional meal or tea. Even showcasing their feral dog. (Tiny dog may I add)

MC doesn’t notice, but soon the couple’s house has little things that they like. If they like art? A few paint tubes or high-end coloured are thrown around the house. If they like music? Wow- they suddenly got a Steinway grand piano for them to play around with.

The husband is constantly checking if MC’s ok. Making sure they dress properly for the weather before they go back to their house. In any extreme weather conditions (blizzard, hurricane, rain- a shit ton of rain) he’ll just show up to their house with groceries.

The wife seems to love giving little cheek kisses and hugs. Always finding ways to present her cooking. She likes buying the occasional clothing item for them. Just something she thought would look quite fitting on them.

It’s all too late at some point, because the husband will haul them over his shoulder if they try to run away. He’ll carry them to their now big bedroom, enough for 3 people to share.

He’ll beat up anyone that tries looking for them. He doesn’t have those muscles for nothing.

The wife is just so happy to have MC in their bedroom. Giving snuggles and lots of coos of affection.

And with a kiss goodnight from both of them, MC finds themselves sandwiched between the two. Unable to move from the husband’s arms, or push off the wife who’s laying on top of them.

MC should just consider themselves as newly-wedded to this strange but surprisingly…functional couple.

(HELP- I JUST FELL DOWN A PIT OF SELF-INDULGENCE)

(I have so many ideas for this bullshit but I also have never written anything non-fandom related on this blog before…Other than my shitposts)

(Assuming I’ll probably make more, I’ll put the tag ‘Husband Wife Trio’ lmao)

- Celina

[chaifootsteps]

Sarcastic chorus has been pissing me off in these last few days. Since the new episode recently came out he's been kissing Viv's shoes HARD. I didn't watch his review of the episode cuz the title and thumbnail made me stay away, but I watched his newest video about FizzxOxzzie and in that video alone he called Striker a racist, talked about Stolas like he's a poor innocent baby to victim blame Blitz by saying that he's the real problem in the relationship. As of me typing this he just released a video about HH and I couldn't even make it 5 minutes in as he kept spewing tons of red flags. Calling HH the "crown jewel on indie animation". "People are mad their headcanons are bullshit" "the hatedom around this franchise is insane" "the haters need to shut the fuck up". Yeah I think it's pretty safe to say we lost him. It's a shame cuz his videos on HB actually started off being pretty balanced as far as I remember, but now he's either on Viv's payroll or has fully been brainwashed by her cult fandom.

[weemietime]

I just lost a close friend to antisemitism and I’m not even Jewish myself, I just shared a shit ton of posts informing about the whole Amsterdam pogrom on my IG story and then all of a sudden my so called “friend” started spewing racist (I’m black) and antisemitic rhetoric towards me in my dms and we had an argument. Another friend unfollowed me after I did posted on my story. I’m literally still reeling from the argument lol, I’m shocked. I sort of expected my friends to be relatively levelheaded about Jews, I wasn’t expecting that.

I am super sorry this happened to you dude, sadly this shit is only too common as so many Jews that I know have lost pretty much their whole entire friend groups overnight.

I can only speak for myself, but I'm grateful that you did speak up even if it cost you a friendship. Judging by them being racist, it's very clear this person was never really your friend, but I'm glad that you stood up for what is right. It's only too important in this crazy ass atmosphere that we not allow antisemitism to flourish in our communities whether you're Jewish or not. The fact that they added a bunch of racist bullshit in there just proves that this is ideology that can only exist within a xenophobic framework.

Last but not least, I'll leave you with this: Yad Vashem doesn't showcase Righteous Jews, it showcases Righteous Among the Nations (aka, goyim who helped us) -- we never, ever forget the people who stand up for us, even if it's an anon on Tumblr or an IG story.

If there are Jews in your immediate vicinity, they will take notice of this and appreciate it, I guarantee it. You might wind up with an even better friendship than the one you lost! Who knows!

[spyskater]

I've seen a lot of people posting that clickbait headline quote from the casting director of The Witcher around without actually reading the full quote or looking for context. So...

So, we're just not gonna read the full quote? We're gonna pretend people's bias toward beauty isn't white? We're gonna pretend Anya Chalotra didn't/doesn't receive a shit ton of racist backlash, because she's not white? We're gonna pretend that the casting director is wrong?

I get that the haters really wanna be mad at the production team, but this ain't it, bruh. It's really not. Her point is that she wanted to cast a beautiful Indian woman to show that western beauty standards are bullshit. So, all of you out there using the headline to spew hatred, please shut the fuck up.

[everydayzeus]

"It's all Shit, Ted" - Chapter 1

Authors note: This will be up on my ao3 once i have my account set up and a few chapters ready to go but for now enjoy <3

Word count: 434

Chapters: 0, 1

______________________________________________________________

“...I don't think it's a good idea.” 

That’s it then, his agent was right, no one wants him. It’s over. Staring at the front door of his old flat, Jamie wondered what the point of any of it was anymore. Why did he even bother talking to Ted, he's the one who sent his ass back to Man City in the first place. There's no way he can even go back to Manchester anyway, not with his dear old dad probably sat on his front porch waiting for him. 

When Jamie had awoken the morning after breaking the curse, he hadn't been expecting a call from Higgens. He thought after opening up to the team about his dad, even though he hadn't given all the details, that maybe it would be the start of a new chapter. Instead, it would seem that Lasso was done with him. So much for helping him become the best version of himself. The news that he was being sent back to Manchester broke him. He hung up the phone before Higgens could spew out some bullshit explanation, packed his bag, and skipped town without so much as a glance over his shoulder. 

At least he could blame the state of his home on having left in such a rush and being in the process of moving it all out, instead of the sad truth. It was the same as it had been the entire time he had lived there. No personal touches, just a plain old flat that could've been anyone's. It looked more staged than lived in. There was a reason he would always be at Keeley's place rather than his own, her place felt homey, it screamed Keeley. Fairy lights and picture frames, a ton of plants that he was convinced were fake because there was no way she could keep them all alive. She always had candles lit or incense burning and music playing faintly in the background, and when he was there… so was she. He never felt alone with Keeley, even if they were simply sitting across from each other on the couch scrolling on their phones. Of course, he had to go and fuck that up too, now here he was all alone, with no career, no friends, no home. 

Grabbing the half-empty bottle of Vanilla Vodka he had left in the freezer, Jamie sighed and dropped down onto the couch. Staring at the ceiling as he sipped Jamie didn't even notice when tears began to slip down his cheeks.

[memobread]

ALRIGHT FOLKS HERE IT IS

Jonathan Davis x transmasc! reader

TW: mentions of transphobia, mommy issues, etc. Contains heavy gore and r*pe using an electrode. Please proceed with caution

CONTAINS: Tons of fluff, smutty smut, and it takes place in the movie Goregasm

CONTEXT FOR PPL WHO HAVENT WATCHED GOREGASM:

the C.L.A.M. is a group of radical feminist bitches who go around killing men for no reason and Cockface is literally a guy who beats people to death with a giant dildo.

Aaaaanyway...ENJOY!!

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"I don't care what you'll do to the body I created, you're still my daughter."

You slumped over your mother's dining table, gripping the back of a chair in a fit of silent rage. You hated that word, "daughter" with all your being. You wished coming out as transmasculine didn't trigger your family as needlessly as it did.

"What happened to loving me unconditionally?" You spat, twenty-three years old with a mother who still picked fights with him.

"This isn't you. This isn't the 'way you are,'…you're just a tomboy."

Your mind seethed at the word. Your mother had angered you to the point where you were trembling, trying to hold yourself back. Attempting to control yourself, you decided to get up and get a beer from the fridge.

"Y/N, please take off your binder. It makes me uncomfortable."

It took a few moments to process the absolute bullshit spewing from your mother's mouth. She would talk to you like that all the time, but this time, you had enough of it.

"…the fuck did you just say?..."

"Don't swear at me, young lady!"

You violently slammed the fridge door shut, tears blurring your vision and streaming down your face. Your mother always made you feel stupid when you were upset, so the only way you could process anger was by holding it in until you cried. You felt so powerless with your mother; like you had no agency over your adult life. Even though you moved out, you felt like she still controlled you.

"…I needa go to work…" You choked out through tears.

"With a beer in your hand? Let's face it, Y/DN, you're pathetic. You insult ME by doing all this harm to the body I created, and now you're an alcoholic?"

You lost any means of control you had before.

"Oh, poor you! You make FUCKING EVERYTHING about yourself! When I tried FUCKING KILLING myself, you blamed me and said I 'hurt the body you created'! You didn't even ask if I was okay, let alone question why I did what I did!"

In an uncontrollable rage, you launched a powerful, adrenaline-filled punch at the drywall, your tough fist cracking through the hard material and leaving a crumbling crater in the infrastructure.

"…And now you're making yourself the victim AGAIN! Have you ever considered HOW I FUCKING FELT?! HAVE YOU EVEN FUCKING THOUGHT ABOUT WHO THAT 'BODY YOU CREATED' BELONGS TO, HUH?! AM I JUST A FUCKING BODY TO YOU?! WHY DOES IT MATTER WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE?!"

Your mother was in complete shock. You never spoke to her like that before until then. You finally let her know who she was.

…a cunt…

Sparing yourself the pain of listening to your mother retaliate, you grabbed your backpack and rushed out the door, slamming it behind you. Still crying, you ran to your car and hurriedly shut yourself inside, starting it up and leaving your mother's house for good.

"FUCK!"

You slammed your fist against the dashboard, tears sliding from your jaw down your neck and staining the hem of your X-large t-shirt. Various negative thoughts swarmed your head, nearly impairing your ability to drive.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I need to go back…

Should I apologize?

No! She doesn't deserve an apology!

You talk to your mother like that, you piece of shit?

Your mother completely ignored your feelings and brushed them off as natural reactions, never apologized, cheated on your dad, and made sure he rarely got to see you, let your stepdad treat you like shit, and had no reaction when she saw you cutting yourself.

…the list goes on forever and ever…

Once you arrived at Filthy Frank's Fuck Flicks and Fake Dicks, you wiped your face with your sleeve and left the car, slamming the door behind you.

…pamela anderson, here I come…

You stepped inside, looking down to avoid any suspicion of you crying. Unfortunately, your coworker Mark caught sight of you.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You looked up and waved, trying to still yourself as much as possible.

"Hey, Mark. How's it goin'?"

You slid behind the counter after clocking in.

"I, uh…I'm good, you doin' alright?" Mark asked, concerned.

…fuck…

You broke down sobbing, Mark instantly coming to hug you.

"Dude, whaddid that fuckin' hag do now?" He asked, already knowing who made you cry.

You chuckled to yourself at how Mark already knew why you were crying.

"She said some stupid shit to me again and I just-…I fuckin' lost it, dude. I punched a hole in her wall and everything…"

Mark rubbed your back and pursed his lips.

"It was only a matter of time before one of that floppy-pussied fishy slut's kids stood up to her bullshit…" Mark snickered.

You laughed, slipping away to tend to a horny customer.

"The bitch got like, fuckin'-… seven kids, for chrissake!"

You chuckled while scanning a vcr of Jenna Jameson having sex with a goat and handing it to its rightful customer. He had a long, dark goatee and a shirt with a pentagram on it.

"I *sniff*…I like your shirt…" You sniffled.

"Thanks, man. Your slut mom gave it to me."

You, Mark, and the guy cracked up.

"Hey, uh…is the gloryhole open?"

You glanced over to the eerie curtain across the room.

"Uh…yeah! Have fun!"

You swear you could hear a guy crying and whimpering from behind the hole barrier, but you were too busy to investigate.

I'll check it out later…

You went through your shift as usual, selling obscenity, helping horny customers, and getting help kicking out the ones that were too horny. When your shift was almost over, you heard the bell at the door ring again, but it was different; it came with a comforting presence that you loved so much. Sure enough, it was your cute little love interest, Jonathan Davis.

           “Hey, Y/N!” He called in his cute voice.

You waved to him, completely intoxicated. His loose t-shirt sleeves hung loosely just above his toned, pale forearms, his burnt umber dreadlocks draping over different planes of his lean shoulders and back. Your eyes lazily swung in every direction he went, secretly raving over his toothy smile below a tiny two-piece mustache. Even his long, model-worthy legs caught your eye. Of course, you did not only value his looks. You cared about him so much and would do anything to protect him. He was so kind to you, more so than almost anyone else. But you were conflicted about how he would feel if he knew you liked men.

"'Scuse me?"

You snapped awake from your state of deep thought, meeting the face of another customer with frizzy hair and a chinstrap.

"Oh, sorry. What can I help you with?" You asked in your best porn-marketing tone.

"Yeah, hi. Uh…I'm just checking these out."

You took the tapes he gave you. They had weird age play shit in them. You made a mental note to steer clear of him.

"Take care, uh…enjoy the diaper sluts."

"Oh, I will…" The man smirked, taking the tapes and leaving.

Once the man left, you could clearly see Jon, who eyed the bondage section. You avoided contact with his sparkling inky eyes so he wouldn't notice you staring at him. He fished out his final tape and approached you. With all the composure you could muster up, you said,

"Hey, Jon, how you been?"

           “Oh, uh…I’m okay…You good?”

Jon had noticed your red, glossy eyes.

           “Oh yeah, it’s uh… just family stuff.”

Remembering who your mother was, Jon laughed.

           “Oh god, what’d that bitch do this time?”

You chuckled weakly, scanning the erotic tapes on the shelf behind you.

            “She said I ruined her life or some shit like that, so I got really mad and kinda lashed out at her.”

Jon nodded, familiar with this type of abuse.

"She does stuff, and gets mad at the consequences, so she blames them on me and tries to make herself seem like she's in the right."

You turned back to him with a few delivery tapes and a box.

"All and all, she's a cunt."

"Yeah, seems like it," Jon said, pursing his lips.

You and Jon chatted for a bit during the last moments of your shift. After the final customer left, Jon asked,

"Wanna go get a beer with me and Mark?"

You felt your heart race and your chest pound as soon as those words left Jon's mouth.

"Uh…yeah, sure!"

The three of you left the store after clocking out and locking up, heading towards the gas station next door. As you walked in, you heard a slight rustling in the bushes.

…shit…

It could have been either of the two killers on the loose: the Cockface Killer or the C.L.A.M., and you weren't going to stand by and let your best friend and your love interest get killed.

"Um…hey Jon?"

You spoke quietly, afraid of being heard.

"Hm?" Jon turned around.

You awkwardly stood on your toes to reach his ear as he bent down.

"Um…I think I heard someone in the bushes outside. I'm not sayin' it's the C.L.A.M or Cockface, but um…the three of us should just go back to…to my…or your or Mark's place and lock the doors and windows while we hang out…"

Jon's expression suddenly changed from content to frightened once he realized what was happening.

"We need to leave. Now."

Before you could say anything, the front door slammed open, a gust of fishy wind flooding the tiny store.

"There you are, fucker!"

When you wheeled around to look, you saw Mil Dread, a tall, bearded brunette lady wearing a white leather V-neck crop top and booty shorts, donning another white leather captain cap. Next to her were her little hench-bitches wearing black fishnets and smeared makeup.

 …the C.L.A.M…

 Before you could get the guys and run, the blonde girl made a beeline for Jon, to which you responded by jumping in front of him and tackling her before she could reach him. In a fit of rage, you ripped violent blows to the blonde's stupid face, leaving not a second for her to breathe, let alone blink. While you beat her screaming face in, Jon grabbed the other girl and slammed her face into the wall repeatedly before throwing her on the ground and jumping elbow-first onto her stomach. Retching and shouting filled the room as Mark ran from Mil, throwing glass bottles of vinegar at her to slow her down.

“You little shit-munching whores…”

The blonde tried to throw you off, but you yanked her up by her hair and slammed her bloody face into the wall.

"YOU FUCKING CUNT!" You screamed, slamming her again twice as hard.

She cried out, trying to wrench out of your strong grip, but you slammed her down WWE-style onto a pile of broken glass, lacerating her bloody face tissue. You jerked her head up and rammed your fingers down her throat, holding a piece of glass between them.

"VOMIT, PIG!!" You barked, smacking her bruised face.

She sobbed loudly on your fingers and squirmed, trying to break free again, but you slammed her down harder, tightening your grip as you jerked your fingers in and out, blood oozing from the back of her raspy throat. She heaved up a thick pile of red vomit onto the dirty floor.

“YEAH, THAT’S FUCKING RIGHT, BITCH!”

You couldn’t help but feel maniacal pleasure like everything horrible that ever happened to you shot right out of your fingers and out the girl’s throat.

“L-*cough* Let me go!!” The blonde cried, limply hitting you with flimsy fists.

You grabbed her wrists with one hand and snapped out your switchblade.

“Not until you stop working for that fucking hag.”

As soon as she opened her mouth, you drew your blade and swooped down upon her throat, slicing her white skin and bones like butter. You felt a wave of relief when her voice died down, and all you could hear from her was gasping and choking. You reveled in her blood, unaware of the tall bearded lady leering behind you.  

“She was my favorite…”

You swiveled around to meet the eyes of fury itself. Wide, furious, twitching eyeballs shoved between smoky flaps; thin, trembling red lips holding back all sorts of profanities. Even Mil’s breasts were flushed with anger, down to her bulging leg muscles, to her veiny feet tucked into white platform heels. While she was in shock, you tried to run away but she flung bulging arms around you and slammed you to the ground, ass up, face squished into the concrete.

“You will pay for this…”

“No!” Jon screamed, gripping the nearly-dead hooker by her bloody throat.

 You tried scrambling away, but she flung her legs over you to clamp your hand down, the hard material of her heels nearly breaking every bone in your hands. Before you could try to escape again, she undid your belt and yanked down your pants, bearing the phallic electrode strapped to her crotch. This was what she did to every man she could catch; pin them down and rape them with her stupid fucking electrode, then kill them in the most painful way she can think of, all for no real reason except their gender identity.

“Y…you fucking nazi…” you managed to choke out against the floor.

Mil ignored you, too busy studying your boxers.

“You must have a tiny dick, eh?”

She yanked down your boxers, and her eyes slightly widened.

“You…you don’t-…you’re not a man?…”

Annoyed, you spat,

“Yeah, I am. Ever heard of being trans, you fucking bimbo?”

She grabbed your hair and slammed your face to the ground, your skull bursting with stinging pain.

“You betrayed the female race…”

She slammed into you, shooting excruciatingly painful jolts of electricity throughout your nether regions and up to your stomach, a rough scream belting from your bloody lips. Your hip bones stung the muscle clinging to them, sparking and trembling rapidly as a huge bolt blew straight through your bladder, shooting up every single nerve, and reaching your lungs.

“This is what you fucking get, traitor!”

Your vision clouded and your throat closed. You were gasping for air, blood peeking from your bottom eyelids and between your lips. In a white flash, you saw your life playing back and forth in intervals of seconds. You could faintly hear several more girls laughing maniacally while Mark and Jon struggled against their restraints. You were breaking out into a cold sweat and you were spitting up your lunch. Before you knew it, your body went limp, all you could hear was ringing and blurry screams, your vision blurred to the point of severe disorientation.

 …this is it…

Before you could accept your impending death, you heard a loud, guttural grunt and a blunt object knocking Mil off of you. Your thoughts incoherent, you lay motionless on the filthy aluminum floor, remnants of stinging vibrations jabbing your insides.

“Cockface?!”

With all the strength you could muster, you heaved your weight into your elbows to get a better look at the two infamous serial killers. Mil lassoed her whip around Cockface’s giant dildo and yanked it down, sending him face-first onto the floor. Before she could follow up, he slid in between her legs and tried to jab the dildo up her saggy ass, but he severed her butt cheek instead, causing her to scream as the ugly piece of flesh splattered down to the floor. Cockface tackled Mil to the floor while her guard was down and flung dildo blows at her bitchy face, clipping her cheekbone and slicing it like salami.  

 …that thing must have some sort of acid on it…

Mil cracked her flogger hard on Cockface’s chest, drawing huge beads of deep red and making him cry out in pain. She then straddled him, clasping her hands around his thick neck and wringing hard.

“So long, scum…”

Suddenly, Cockface launched a brutal heave of his dildo up between her tits, completely lacerating the tissue, snapping her sternum, and impaling through her. Her grip on his neck instantly went limp, and saliva started dripping from her mouth onto Cockface’s dildo mask. Suddenly, you heard clapping coming from the front door.

“Goddamn, that was hot…”

You looked towards the source of the clapping, and there you found a short, stubby man with a short beard, receding hairline, and a detective badge hanging loosely from his belt.

“Detective Douglass Depschette, FPD, here to investigate whatever the fuck this is.”

Beside him stood a taller brunette woman donning a pair of round glasses and a typical office worker outfit. She looked like she would rather get a sulfuric acid enema than work with Depschette, understandably.

“You see, Depschette? The fetish killer and Cockface are the same!” She exclaimed, indicating the bloody scene with her arms.

Depschette groaned in frustration.

“Here we go again…”

He approached Mil’s mutilated corpse.

“You see…”

Your vagus nerve sparing you the ramble, you blacked out. Blurs and whisps of Jonathan appeared before you in your dream, and you could hear occasional bits of his pretty voice as he and Mark eventually hauled you out of the store, carrying you to your car.

“Gah, shit…”

“C’mon, lift his legs…”

When the two men finally crammed you in, Jon sat in the back with you, laying your head on his lap. When Mark hit a speed bump, your body jolted to the side, your face meeting Jon’s crotch. His eyes widened, and he blushed, squeezing his legs together. Mark snickered.

“You two queers doin’ alright back there?”

Jon let out an awkward chuckle.

“Shut up, man…”

When the three of you finally arrived at your trailer, you were carried inside and laid on your comfy mattress. Jon laid your head on his lap again, making sure you were in an elevated position.

"Oh shit, I gotta go," Mark said, scrambling to his feet.

"Lemme know how he's doing, okay?"

Jon nodded, smiling as he waved him goodbye. Just as he left, you started to wake up. Jon inadvertently ran his fingers through your soft, fluffy hair. When he heard you grunt, he snatched his fingers away and grabbed his water bottle.

"Shhh, shhh…it's okay, Y/N…Cockface killed Mil and you're back home."

You were confused, your head was pounding, and you were breaking out into a cold sweat. You were dizzy while trying to scramble to your feet and recognize your surroundings. Jon instantly went to calm you down, putting your head back on his lap and stroking your hair.

"Just take some deep breaths with me…deep breaths…"

Trembling and confused, you followed his slow, deep breaths nonetheless.

"Th….Thanks for taking care of me, Jon…"

He smiled his pretty smile and said,

"Sure, no biggie."

The realization that you were lying in your crush's lap was starting to show up, which gave you butterflies in your nauseous tummy.

"I-…Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You asked, pushing yourself up on your elbows.

Jon nodded, settling you back down to his lap with his soft hands.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. I was able to knock out the bitch who attacked me."

Jon laughed a little awkwardly, stroking your hair.

"Th-Those fucking whores killed my friend Max…All because he was a guy…"

Jon's breath became shaky, and his grip on your hair tightened.

"You…You're the only person I can tell because now I know you're trans…"

Your eyes widened.

…he saw…

He saw your reaction and immediately started backpedaling.

"Listen, Y/N, I'm sorry…I dunno why I said that or why I'm bringing up random shit in the first place…"

You were quick to comfort him.

"Oh no, no, no you're fine. I just…I'm glad you don't hate me because I'm trans."

Jon chuckled halfheartedly.

"I actually had no idea you were born female…You pass so well, with flying colors…"

He ran his pointer finger along your upper lip.

"That's a nice 'stache you got there too…"

You chuckled.

"You too, man."

His two-piece mustache curled with his lips into another pretty smile. Soon, you two delved into another deep conversation. It was so easy to talk to him like you could chat with him about mothballs for ten years and never get bored. The conversation gradually went deeper, turning into Jon's sexual identity crisis.

"Yeah, I think I might like men a little…but I can't publicly say it…I can only talk about this to you."

You and Jon talked more, then the topic transitioned to your gender identity.

"Yeah, I've been feeling like I'm not masculine enough, like I'm just never gonna really be a guy, and it's fucked me up big time."

Your head hung down as you pursed your lips and sighed.

"My mom keeps guilt tripping me for this shit and I don't wanna believe it, but she tells me it so much that-…

You were suddenly overcome with violent guilt and tears started to prick at your eyes. Jon noticed and immediately came to comfort you.

"Hey, hey, c'mere…"

Jon wrapped you in a warm bear hug, massaging your scalp and rubbing your back.

…his hugs feel like heaven…

Jon hugged you as if you were the most precious thing to him. He was warm and soft, fitting your body into his perfectly, like a therapeutic body pillow. You relaxed into his embrace, hugging him back tightly. He reached behind you with one arm and grabbed your fluffy blanket, wrapping it around the both of you as if you weren't relaxed enough already. The security and saturated warmth of the blanket and Jon nearly made you drift off to sleep like a baby. You took your time to enjoy the overwhelmingly comforting feeling, both of you staying in that position for a few minutes before Jon dragged one arm away and left the other draping over your shoulder.

"Yeah, I've been feeling the same way. Societal norms and shit…"

"Those rules are fucking stupid, but I can't help but to try to fit them."

You blushed when Jon put his arm around you.

"Listen, anyone who doesn't see you or me as men is a fucking idiot. You and I are both men, and we know it, that's all that matters." He said, looking into your glossy eyes.

"Shit, you even passed as a guy to Mil." Jon followed up, squeezing your shoulder.

You chuckled and smiled, your heartwarming with reassurance. As the conversation progressed, Jon became more comfortable, considering you two had known each other for a few years and were good friends. But you and Jon wanted something more.

"Hey Y/N…can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Jon cleared his throat.

"When you attacked that blonde girl when she attacked me…All that rage you let out on her…where did that come from?"

You froze. He was giving an obvious hint that he suspected you liked him.

"I…uh…."

Jon stared, waiting for a response.

"I just…"

You couldn't lie to him. You knew Jon possibly had feelings for you, and he knew you did too, and you couldn't deny it any longer.

"It’s because I love you."

He froze, completely taken aback by how direct you were. You started to panic, regretting everything you said to him. The possibility he might not like you hit you that moment, plaguing your mind with horrible predictions.

"I….I'm sorry….I'll leave…"

You offered to leave even though it was your trailer, but Jon pulled you right back.

"I….I love you too…so much…"

This was your breaking point. All the awkward interactions and conversations that were more cringe-worthy than what happens in an episode of The Office didn't matter anymore.

"I just…I-…I-"

You had enough of the awkward stammering, and you took his face in both your hands. You looked deeply into his pretty eyes before connecting your lips to his, kissing him sweetly. He took the hint and let go of his stress, holding you around your upper torso and kissing you back. It didn't take long for the kiss to escalate. Jon straddling your lap and caressing your face, you wrapped your arms tightly around his skinny waist.

"I want this so bad, Y/N…"

Things were escalating quickly since you both acknowledged the constant romantic and sexual tension throughout your friendship, and this was the moment it would all be let go.

"I love you, Jon…"

Both of you were in disbelief, thinking what was happening was too good to be true, all while making out sweetly on your dirty mattress. Jon's kisses were soft and loving as if he was kissing your wounds better. His lips and hands were gentle as they touched you ever so gently. You felt all over his body, your hands sliding gracefully across the dips and mounds of his ethereal figure. The painfully awkward moments you had earlier melted away as your hands settled on Jon's slender waist, holding it and caressing it sweetly, feeling his warmth. It didn't take long for the kiss to escalate; Jon gripped your face tighter and began to eat at your lips, reveling in how you fell apart for him. It didn't take long for Jon to topple over on top of you, trapping you between his arms on the bed. You wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him closer, and he pressed down onto you harder, grunting into your mouth. Your hands raked up and down all over his body, making him moan at the mercy of your fingernails. You kissed him hard, pushing yourself up into him as much as possible as if to fuse your bodies. You could feel his erection pressed against your crotch, desperate for any friction. Biting Jon's bottom lip, you ground your crotch into his cock, a small whimper escaping your lips, and Jon gasping with a loud moan followed by his signature chuckle.

"Oh yeah?"

He slammed himself down between your legs, gasping and whining pathetically at the well-earned friction. Ducking his head under your jaw to plaster sloppy kisses and harsh bites all over your neck, he stayed between your legs and started to rock back and forth on your throbbing heat.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good…" Jon growled into your neck.

When his teeth bared into you, you bit your lip and arched your back, keening desperately for him. Your noises sent him into a horny frenzy, causing him to rip off his jeans, along with yours, and press against you again. With the most ruthless of intentions, you grabbed his dick, making him freeze.

"Ahhh…"

Once you started squeezing a bit on his tip, rubbing slightly up and down, he leaned his head back and let out a breathy moan.

…he's so sensitive…

The friction of the fabric rutting so deliciously against Jon's needy tip made his eyes roll back and caused tremors to wrack throughout his entire beautiful body, leaving you room to bite at his neck a bit.

"Oh my god, Y/N….Jesus Christ….you-oh fuck!!"

Before he could finish his sentence, you slid your hand under his boxers, gripping his cock firmly. His pleasure face gazing down into your soul flashed a hint of a smirk before he slid his hand under your boxers.

"…oh god….jon…."

Jon started cupping your heat and rubbing it gently while you jerked him harder. His long, soft fingers caressing you down there sent tiny waves of pleasure racking your lower body as slick arousal coated his fingers. Breathing heavily and trying not to buck your hips up, you spat on your hand, squeezing it tighter around his girthy cock, stroking the shaft with your fingers as you rubbed him up to the tip at a medium pace, the new lubrication making his eyes roll back in his head and shaky whimpers fall from his lips. You used your other hand to reach down and cup his nuts, fondling them sweetly while his fingers made their way to your little nub, rubbing it in moderate circles with your slick on his fingers. Your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth as you picked up your pace, you and Jon whimpering to each other. Your two hands were making sweet love to Jon's member, one rubbing up and down and squeezing on the wet shaft, and the other smothering the tip with wet caresses and jerks. Jon's face was buried in your neck, moaning pathetically into your ear while rubbing your clit a little faster, your legs opening up, and your moans getting louder at the feeling.

"G-oh…God, Y/N you feel so good on my fingers…" Jon groaned, his voice two octaves lower than usual.

The sight of Jon's hand under your boxers drove you insane with arousal; Seeing his fingers work your sweet little nub so well and hearing your slick sliding his fingers around on it made you wetter than ever before. You rubbed and caressed him faster, reaching a swift pace as he trembled above you, crying and whimpering while you pumped away.

"Oh fuuuuuck, please, please Y/N-oh god, that feels so-oh god…." Jon babbled into your ear, his hand trembling as it started to flick across your clit, sliding down to tease your hole too.

Your back arched when he sped up, breathy moans escaping you as you felt a knot start to form in your stomach. Jon attempted to stifle his moans with your neck as you squeezed your thighs around his, whimpering pleads that could make even the purest of individuals cum in their pants. Jon's cock was red and pulsating in your hands, the feeling of you jerking him so good making his legs shake. Eventually, he couldn't handle it anymore.

"That's it. I need you. Now."

Jon pulled his hand out and yanked down his boxers, revealing a red, throbbing cock ready to cum. He effortlessly flipped you over and yanked up your ass to meet his hips. All you could do was bury your face in your pillows and brace yourself.

"You ready, baby?" Jon breathed, flicking his red tip up and down your slit.

You turned your head around and said,

"Yes…please…let's fuck…"

Jon pulled off his shirt and threw it to the side, revealing his soft, yet strong features and beautiful natural body. He was now completely naked for you and only you. You yanked off your shirt just to feel his skin better, leaving your binder on. With that, Jon positioned his tip at your entrance, pushing it a bit before being sucked into you, both of you awing at the feeling. His tip stretching your tight hole made your eyes roll back into your head as you begged him to go deeper.

"Ah…Already?...You're so needy…I love it…"

He pushed himself deeper into you, your slippery, gunny walls clenching so hard around him, trying so hard to stretch to his size. He could barely slide further because of your tightness, but he pushed himself even deeper. Clenching onto your love handles and choking out hot breathy moans, he started thrusting in and out of you, leaning forward to get a better angle.

"Oh Jesus Ch…Christ, Y/N…You're so f…fucking tight…"

You arched your back further, pushing back into him, the sudden contact with your g-spot making you cry out into the pillow. You could hear Jon chuckle through a heaved breath as he started fucking into you at a medium pace, moaning desperately as he did so. It was like his cock had been sucked up into a black hole, never to escape.

"Y-oh fuck…You okay, baby?"

You nodded, lightly grinding against him, making him grab you tighter and go deeper.

"Oh god, yes…so fucking big…" You keened, your eyes glossy from the pleasure.

The line of praise got you trapped in Jon's arms; He had toppled onto you and gripped the sheets on either side of your head.

"Oh ho ho ho, I'll show you big…"

He rammed into you, catching you off guard and causing you both to cry out in pleasure. His hips were like a piston pummeling into you faster as he moaned various praises in your ear. The repeated blows to your g-spot had you whimpering like a slut for him, begging him to use you however he wanted.

"Oh yeah?"

He went even faster, your eyes rolling back into your brain as your buttcheeks clapped violently against his pelvis, his nuts slapping against your clit.

"Oh fuc-oh yeah…! Take it! Take it like a dirty slut…!"

Jon snarled endless dirty talk in your ear as you both came close to your orgasms in a matter of minutes.

"I'm gonna fucking cum inside you so hard…"

Jon buried his face in your neck from behind, biting down on your pulse and gripping your hips with the strength to keep them still, using you however he wanted. With each thrust, the knot in your stomach came closer to unraveling while Jon cried out and held you still. He could already tell you were about to cum by your tightening, trembling walls and your cries becoming more desperate. Jon violently slammed in and out at the speed of light, nearing his orgasm by the tiniest bit. You were so close to releasing all over his cock,

"SHHHHIIITT!!!"

"Oh my god, fuck!!!"

Seeing stars, your eyes rolled back into your head, and your insides twitched rapidly as you came undone, Jon's hot, milky sperm shooting deep inside you while he cried out incoherent praises and loud moans. With each spurt of cum he would thrust hard into you, draining himself in your body. Eventually, he quickly pulled out and collapsed on top of you, his hairy chest moving up and down against your back. Once he completely calmed down, he started feathering kisses along the back of your neck, drawing a cute smile from you while you held his hands.

"You alright?" Jon asked, kissing your shoulder.

You turned yourself around to face him, pulling him up with you to sit on your bed face-to-face.

"I've never been better…"

Jon gave a little toothy smile and pecked your lips, caressing the little marks on your hips.

"Sorry if the dirty talk got a little outta hand…I'm a horny bastard as you well know."

You chuckled and squeezed his hands.

"Oh no, it's fine. I liked it."

Jon smiled and pulled you under your covers, turning off your lamp.

"Let's just lay here the rest of the night…I'm so fuckin' tired."

"Me too…"

Jon pulled you into a big naked bear hug, holding you close to his chest while you caressed his back, pulling him into you.

"I love you, Jon."

"I love you too, Y/N…"

[overbearingstruggles]

the amount of heinous bullshit you spew on here and you are judging a woman for saying one thing to fans who relentlessly bullied her 15 years ago? let's burn her at the stake for the rest of her life. how about last week when you called Danny and Caroline's baby ugly? How about everything you've ever said about savannah? Or Rian? Or Lisa? Or whatever other nemeses your 30 something year old living in your mothers basement ass has? of all people to call someone holier than though... you act like you have boundaries and are above certain things and then turn around and spew hate left and right... so who is holier than thou? how would you like to be judged for your actions in years past, let alone today? you haven't grown out of your hateful nature but Lisa hasn't said anything to anyone in over a decade and I've seen tons of photos of her with fans and she seems fine in all of them, but also it's not her job to take pictures with people. she isn't in a band. I think it's better that she doesn't want that attention and hasn't tried to use Alex to put herself in the spotlight, even after doing RS. it seems like she would rather be recognized for her actual job that you also have an issue with. call a spade a spade - you're just hateful to be hateful. you don't seem to care that kieran culkin are rolling in money and chose careers that make them tons of it. why? what's the difference?

First off, I live in California and we don’t have basements. I cosigned a long ask with one phrase I wouldn’t have even said but the sentiment remains. Have you read my responses? Because I listed my issues with her and included receipts. They are all within the last decade. I’m a self-aware hater who doesn’t claim to be anything else. At the end of the day this is a big group chat, it’s harmless. Understand the difference between my weird tiny gossip corner blog versus going to attack people directly for no reason other than to fight. That is something I would never do. You prolly got an ugly baby too.

[syscultureis]

Hi! I’m a DID system in treatment with a specialist in childhood trauma and dissociation. I just thought it’s worth mentioning that my therapist, and many of his colleagues, absolutely do believe that plurality without childhood trauma can happen and does happen quite regularly!

Granted, he does NOT believe that complex dissociative disorders like DID and OSDD can form without repeated childhood in trauma. But even he and other trauma/dissociation specialists he works with don’t think that these are the only ways plurality can manifest.

He’s mentioned spiritual plurality many times to us in therapy. We’ve also talked about the concepts of imaginary friends and the internal family systems model and how, for many, those might qualify as plurality for them! Plurality is actually incredibly complex and diverse, and there are TONS of qualified specialists in the field who don’t agree with this closed minded thinking that “plurality is only caused by trauma.”

Just wanted to let you know that like… the line of thinking used on this blog isn’t even followed or believed by those who are actually specialists and professionals in the field of trauma and dissociation!

Our therapist, who specializes in DID and other trauma disorders holds the opposite belief. As do most of her colleagues.

She has actively told us she's disgusted by people who think that plurality can happen without trauma, because the human brain doesn't work that way

We ourselves are a psych major taking classes on this, where our teachers have said it's a complex disorder that can only happen via trauma.

Specialists are just as divided on it as the people suffering from the disorder.

Plurality is a trauma response.

Read our fucking dni. We are extremely tired of people trying to convince us we're wrong about something we know is right.

Syscourse makes us tired and annoyed. It makes our stress sky rocket and causes splits nearly every time we get involved at all. Ignoring it doesn't work because you keep sending us shit. Responding makes it go away for a while but you always come back.

Just fucking leave us alone. We don't go to your blogs spewing bullshit, don't come to ours.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

if one of the Zutarians criticizes Aang, his beliefs, or his culture or people, this is not racism and not an attack on Tibetans, because Aang and Air nomads are fictional, non-existent cultures! they are based on Tibetan culture, but they are not real Tibetans!

I can't tell if this is sarcastic/mocking something you saw a zutara fan say or not, but I'm gonna respond to it as if it's serious (my apologies it wasn't).

"This is inspired by Tibetan culture" means that there are artistic liberties taken by the writers, and thus viewers that are familiar with Tibetan culture and how their monks behave need to keep that in mind and realize there will inevitably be differences between the real thing and the show's version, as this is a fictional story, not an educational program or documentary.

However, the simmilarities are still there, and a ton of the very hateful things zutarians say about Aang and his culture are also said by people who legit despise tibetan culture.

Like, imagine if Aang's people were instead meant to be an allegory for a jewish community, and zutarians wrote every antisemitic stereotype into their fics to make Aang and his culture look bad, including using "arguments" the nazis made as to why they're an entire race/culture of undesirable people and thus Katara deserves better than to be with one of them - it wouldn't matter if they technically are not explicitly refered to as jews in the text, the inspiration would be VERY clear, and the hate towards an entire community distressingly real.

An attack on a fictional character being entirely based on his race and culture 100% counts as real life prejudice when said race and culture have a real life inspiration. If zutarians dislike Aang as a character/romantic partner for Katara and personally disagree with some of Tibet's beliefs/lifestyle, that's fine, but the second they start spewing out legit hateful stuff (which they do A LOT), I'm gonna call them a bunch racist motherfuckers because that's what they are, and if they don't like that they can just try not doing that kind of bullshit.

[skrunglebeasts]

a discussion some friends were having got me writing about how misandry isnt real. its all misogyny

"mens" issues are largely built on the weaponization of the socially induced fear of being regarded as feminine. on a historical and societal scale, feminine means lesser. even the fucking bible is misogynistic

yes, men commit suicide more often. guess which social gender commits basically every type of killing more often? guess which gets murdered more often?

even misandry is another tool of patriarchy to reinforce misogyny. retaliation from a socially constructed and oppressed class is always used as a way to justify putting them back in their place because we are all taught to ignore the many many mechanisms in place to keep it this way and instead ask "but what about my suffering?"

and why wouldnt we ask that? if were hurting, were going to blame the most obvious thing that hurt us. its a perfect smokescreen because its reasonable. and there are tons of andrew tates in the world who saw the mechanisms and the smokescreen and saw a way to build for themselves in it by just becoming another smoke spewing gear in the mechanism

tradwife tiktok does the same. look how perfect, look how feminine, ignore all the money they make by being lucky and profitting off their good looks and precariously balancing on the tip of the knife that will ruin them when age or fear or something else makes them unable to keep up the act. when it all comes crashing down, theyll respond by being upset at other women instead of realizing their whole deal was never theirs. their obsession with playing perfectly into subservience makes them forget subservience requires nothing, not even their choices, be theirs. everything loops back into the closed circuit of misogyny and itll help them as long as theyre useful and compliant. do you understand how cults work?

this isnt even getting into how much this fucks up trans people. too. how many trans men are killed for not performing masculinity well enough? how many trans women for failing to perform feminity? how many nonbinary people? how many of all kill themselves for that failure? is it suicide if society kills you?

even the male loneliness epidemic (stupid name given to a fake issue because birth rates are low since everyones broke) being treated as a male problem and not a deeper societal ill is a tool of societal manipulation. completely ignoring how many women are also lonely or harassed because of a very specific reinforcement that people are owed the time of women

it is all part of a sprawling method of class based self-governance that only truly benefits those in power. revenge sexism is also a part of that tool. because it makes everyone fight over dumb bullshit in retaliation for hurts they face without asking "hang on. who benefits from this?" because no ones going to ask that when theyre in pain